tw | toxic relationship

[21:09] you wish time would just stop for even a minute. let you collect yourself and your thoughts and actually be able to choke up words to say to him. but it’s not like he’d listen, anyway. talking to hyunjin is like talking to a child. he doesn’t actually listen. just waits until you finish speaking so he can get a word in again.

but it’s because you let him, you suppose. you’ve always been so lenient with him. never raising your voice in fear of getting him mad enough for him to leave. sure, he’s pissed you off plenty of times, but you try to keep it to yourself to avoid any arguments. arguments with hyunjin never end well.

he’s loud. you could be screaming at the top of your lungs but somehow he always finds a way to overpower your voice, as if somehow being louder means he’s right.

he’s stubborn. he doesn’t care if you have tears streaming down your cheeks. you could blatantly tell him exactly how to change to avoid the situation again or to just fucking listen to you for two seconds. but he’s too prideful to lose. his mind isn’t gonna change; you might as well give up now.

but worst of all, he’s victimizing. it doesn’t matter whether or not it was actually him in the wrong. it’s never his fault. you could have done better to avoid the situation. you should be the one who’s sorry.

so you apologize. over and over and over until he finally throws his hands up and says something like “whatever, i’ll be back later” and leaves you in tears in the living room and doesn’t come back until the morning.

but he always comes back with snacks and flowers and games and movie tickets with red, puffy eyes and an embarrassed apology and you forgive him without hesitation because the hyunjin from last night isn’t the hyunjin he is. i just got caught up in the heat of the moment, he says. you know i didn’t mean it. it won’t happen again.

and you always believe him. because when you truly love someone, you’re willing to look over a bad quality or two to keep them there.

it won’t happen again, you think. because when you truly love someone, you’re willing to change a bad quality or two to keep them there.

but he doesn’t truly love you. he just likes the thought of it, is all. but you’re too far in to be able to make that connection.

not like he’d ever let you, anyway.

so as we know, recently hyunjoon, woojin, and hoseok (mx) have left their groups (all of whom i write for). i’m kind of iffy about doing this, but to respect the decisions of having left their groups, i will not write for these three beginning next comebacks. for example, i will continue to write for woojin until dec. 7, and the others whenever their former groups release a new album.

this will apply to all future idols who leave their groups. please respect my decision to do this. i’m sorry and thank you.

jl-micasea-fics:

❝ , . .❞

↳Part 1/9 ofUnmatched, 2022 rewrite. Set several months after the events of Unrequited, you are now married and settled with the man you thought you’d never have. Yet when old secrets and bad habits resurface, things are not as entirely harmonious as they seem.

↳Female reader x Lee Know, female reader x Hyunjin

↳6.4k

!Strong language, established relationship, marriage au, love triangle au, thriller, romance, stripper-slash-escort Lee Know, husband Lee Know, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, dominant Lee Know, oral sex (f. rec), storeroom sex, dirty talk, references to sex toys and aids, themes of casual sex, promiscuity, commitment issues and adult themes throughout !

「Contents List」 「Unrequited」 「© June 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

For better, for worse.

For richer, for poorer.

In sickness, and in health.

To love, and to cherish.

Until death do you part.

A vow so sealed with a kiss had bound you to the man you loved for eternity, though it’s no stretch to suppose he claimed your soul long before the eyes of church and state ever deigned to recognise it.

Marriage was blissful. Marriage was harmonious. Marriage would change you both, they’d said, make you a better person through the responsibilities it comes with, the duties of a wife to her husband, of a husband to his wife.

Those people didn’t know you. They didn’t know Minho either.

For if they did, they’d have saved such pearls of wisdom for the next couple coming through.

You don’t think marriage has changed you. By all accounts, you’re the same old person you always were.

Your lips purse to the same pout they always do. Your hair is the same colour it always was. Even your general outlook on life remains naïvely optimistic, irrespective of the inevitable bad days you occasionally suffer through.

Rolling your car to a gradual stop and firmly switching the ignition, you reangle the rear-view mirror, taking a second to assess presentability before you get out. It’s by tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that you’re momentarily blinded by a sharp glint; the silver wedding band on your ring finger, set with a single diamond that catches the dusky afternoon sunlight.

You admire it—the diamond demands that you must—spreading your fingers out, holding your hand under a dusted ray that beams through your car window. It sparkles, quietly reminding you that despite all the sameness, your life is vastly different now.

You suppose that if someone had informed you six months ago that you’d be married and relatively settled down by now, you’d have advised them in favour of industrial strength therapy and maybe a lobotomy or three.

Yet here you are; more than half a year into a marriage you never foresaw, with a man you can’t well live without.

Perhaps more miraculously than any of that, however, is the fact that anything has yet to go wrong.

Keep reading

Ladies and Gentlemen, the wait is over. The new ride has begun

On a side note, Chan pissed me off so much here

jl-micasea-fics:

❝ , .❞

↳Part 2/9 ofUnmatched, 2022 rewrite. See part 1 for story description.

↳Female reader x Lee Know, female reader x Hyunjin

↳5.6k

!Strong language, established relationship, marriage au, love triangle au, thriller, romance, stripper-slash-escort Lee Know, husband Lee Know, heavy angst and tension, explicit sexual content, office sex, make-up sex, dirty talk, scenes of conflict, alcohol consumption, stripping, emotional turmoil, themes of casual sex, promiscuity, commitment issues and adult themes throughout !

「Part 1」「Contents List」「Unrequited」 「© June 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Chan’s announcement cloaks the staff room in a reverent silence.

Even as the thud of his booted footsteps fade down the corridor, the tension remains palpable. Indeed, every person in proximity feels it, yet none of them dare to break it.

You’re in utter panic.

Your nerves are working overtime, all proverbial hands are on deck trying to calm you, yet it’s futile. You’re trembling, freezing all of a sudden. Heart pounding, a prickling of icy sweat nips at the nape of your neck and small of your back.

Yet worse than all that, is that you dare not look at Minho. You’re terrified of what you might see.

Of course, he’s the first to collect himself. He steps towards you, hand outstretched in what might well be an act of comfort, yet you can’t allow yourself the weakness of his touch. Can’t allow yourself the addling toxin that comes with his excuses, his justifications, his voice of reason that will assuredly side with Chan, because why wouldn’t he?

“I, uh… I’m going to call you that cab, Lix, okay? J— Just sit tight for a while.”

Voice shaky, polite and professional demeanour so clearly forced it’s enough to inspire pity, but nobody addresses it. They simply nod, smile, don’t try to stop you or offer words of consolation as you leave the room without a glance at your husband.

You suppose it was bound to happen, when your pretence of togetherness crumbles, for it was fragile at best. Your breaths come too sparse, too quick. Your temples throb, your racing, panicked heart is too erratic as it runs away from you, wanting out of the confines of your chest.

Space. That’s what you need. A little alone time to simply process, rationalise, perhaps break down in isolation.

The door to your office in sight, you rush the last few steps with unwanted tears, flinging it open and finding solace with your back against the hard wood as you slam it shut, shoring up for the intrusion you’re sure is coming.

“Baby?”

Keep reading

THAT ENTRANCE ✨ OH MA LORD

Guys, get going. Get on this train. You’re missing out.

[17:23]

everything felt like a fuzzy dream. the joking banters, the funny texts, the innocent teasing, the jokes thrown here and there, the gradual comfort they were building around each other, it was small but noticeable to her.

maybe she noticed the way she started relaxing around him because she spent so much time keeping her guard up that letting loose in so long felt almost easing, like a cold shower on a warm sunny day.

she was so lost in the way he messed around with her, that she forgot about the bigger, impending, truth that may lay behind his action. that or she simply didn’t know until someone opened her eyes for her.

since they met five months prior, they always had a cat and mouse kind of relationship, much like the one she had with everyone else in the friend group. she had always kept her guard up around people, new and old alike, always careful to not let them in too much, to not say too much about her life. the fear of not being able to trust anyone fully way too big. and after the only person she could ever trust wholly, broke up with her, that thought only reinforced itself. because she knew she would never be able to trust anyone as much as she trusted her last lover. so when they broke up a few months before she started being comfortable around minho, she decided she didn’t want to let anyone know. for she didn’t want anyone to think she was what people called “fresh on the market”.

she didn’t know when she started loosening up around him. maybe it started when after all the play fighting on the field, that one day they had a group picnic, she started her period right before they left for home and her cramps hit her. and as she tried helping everyone carry the remnants of what was left of their belongings, he had fallen in step with her and with already a bag in each hand he had softly taken the heavy water case from her hand muttering a “here, give it to me,” and she had protested that she could carry it only for him to scold her, “good for you, now give that here. you’re already in pain.”

or maybe it was when she went to that birthday party and he insisted her drink a few sips from his glass because, “i didn’t mix too much vodka, it’s almost all sprite,” he had muttered just so their friends would stop bothering her and she would be able to have fun.

or again, maybe it was when he invited her, felix and moonbin to his house for dinner with his mother. they had stayed at his place until almost 2am and they had fun writing funny things on the white board in his room and taking polaroids, and when the picture developed he had cackled loudly and, “i cannot believe this! your dress looks like we’re wearing matching pajamas,” he had pointed out.

or maybe it was when the same night he had jokingly given her a Yu Gi Oh card and told her to put it in her clear phone case, saying something about “the monster’s lips look like it’s blowing someone off, and you’re good at that, right?” and she had promptly thrown a few punches and kicks while he laughed loudly and taken her phone to put the card on top of her photocard, saying a “do not change it.”

or once more, maybe when he would promptly check every time they met after if she had changed the card and once he saw that she indeed did he would wrestle her to jokingly tell her he would throw away the photocard once he gets his hands on it.

and the fact he made her download a texting app when he deactivated on all social media because of his studies just to text non stop didn’t exactly help her.

or how when he asked advice on skincare, she had suggested about a cleanser she couldn’t find anywhere but was insanely good for her, he had come over the next day with the cleanser in hand. when she told him “ayy you got it!” thinking he had bought it on his way to her place, he had said, “that’s for you, i bought two.” and when she said he didn’t need to he said, “it’s okay, you said you couldn’t find it anywhere, so,” and he had shrugged his shoulders like nothing.

it was always the small things.

and maybe it was the day he was sharing with her and felix about his rocky again off again relationship that she thought that maybe she could tell him that she had broken up with her lover. and so she had signed subtly to felix if she should say something about her private life when they made a deal of all three saying something about their love life because minho didn’t want to be the only one to share stuff. but felix shook his head and trusting her childhood friend blindly she had said nothing.

nothing until a week after he texted her asking if she woke up early in the morning to talk to her long distance boyfriend, and she had thought she had avoided the question when she said something about her waking up late everyday. later, when she had told that to felix laughing, he had chuckled and told her, “don’t tell him, he’ll tell moonbin right away.”

moonbin. moonbin was the truth she had forgotten.

moonbin, a close friend, who happened to have a crush on her. her, when everyone knew she was taken. her, when all she wanted was to be friends with everyone. moonbin, who had just gone through a messy break up from a relationship he still wasn’t over, claimed he liked her.

and the day she found out she couldn’t lie and say she was surprised nor was that she thrilled. and moonbin’s every nice action made her feel like he did it because he had ulterior reasons and as much as felix told her he was just that nice to everyone, she didn’t like the unsettling feeling in her bones. because she didn’t want people spending money on her just to hold it over them. she hated the feeling of being indebted to people.

and somehow the fact that moonbin had told everyone around the friend circle about his crush on her didn’t sit well with her. she hated the feeling of everyone knowing what goes on behind all of his teasing and possibly teasing her about it or the nightmare that was shipping. she absolutely hated all that, finding the act of shipping and teasing to be childish. she liked her life to be private, her romantic life more than every other aspect, and sadly moonbin wasn’t like that.

and the other big thing was that she had no feelings for moonbin, and to a certain extent she didn’t have any feeling for minho either. the only thing she knew was that minho, unlike moonbin, made her feel like she could talk to him without fearing him discussing her problems with anyone else. or maybe she just didn’t know him that well, but she couldn’t deny the comforting feeling he carried around, like he would listen to anyone sharing their problems with him. which she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

and as she sat on the floor of her room that morning with felix, she felt her walls slowly going up again between her and minho. and her mind started getting clouded again by questions she didn’t, nor she would ever have answers to.

did he try to warm up to me to wingman moonbin?
did he just want to find out about my relationship status to tell moonbin?

did he not want to be my friend just because, maybe, he liked my personality?

was this all it was about?

and the ever persistent reason why she never could open up to anyone came back. the constant feeling of not being worth of friends with came back. nobody would want to be friends without any other motive. and the thought brought back all the other bad feelings she had slowly learned to overcome slowly.

so she told herself that she needed to close off again. she needed to be like before. unknown, but someone that was important to keep around because she was childhood friends with felix.

so that day, when minho texted her, she didn’t reply as fast as she usually would, and she decided she wouldn’t get any closer anymore.

alone.

synopsis: changbin and y/n’s relationship, although it started beautifully, hit rock bottom a long time ago and while he fell headfirst into his university life and all the chaos and craziness that comes with it, she was left behind. while he had the time of his life for the first time ever she was drowning in the arms of her biggest enemy and friend, loneliness and self doubt. changbin hears her cries of help a little too late.

characters: Changbin, Main Character, a smidge of Bang Chan.

pairing: unistudent!changbin x f.maincharacter

genre: angst, das all, just angst

word count: 1.9k

warnings: description of being left behind and feeling forgotten, loneliness and self doubt.

author’s note: i think i wrote this someday during spring of 2020, when i wasn’t in a good place. this hits a bit close to home and is way too personal but bc i’m a person that doesn’t really express themselves that much i found out writing helps a lot so here it is lol
i hope you enjoy reading this

She felt small sitting under Changbin’s cold gaze, her eyes kept shifting here and there to always end up falling down to her twiddling fingers.

It had been a little over fifteen minutes, and he hadn’t said a word. She knew what the matter was, but she was scared of where this was leading.

“Tell me what’s up,” Changbin suddenly said. Y/n’s head snapped up at his voice. Her eyes stared at his face for a while.

“What?” She muttered, hating how hesitant she sounded. When did things become so uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked again, his usual higher, sweet voice now low and gruff. Y/n gulped.

Suddenly she understood why everyone said Changbin was scary when angry, although she didn’t know if he was angry or upset. Either ways, it was scary.

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled only for him to quickly snap back.

“Bullshit. Tell me,” he demanded, arms crossed. And god, it was so intimidating.

“Can you not intimidate me so much,” she asked, a nervous snicker leaving her lips. Changbin didn’t give any signs of change. Y/n cleared her throat her eyes falling once again to her fingers.

“You want to break up?” Changbin suddenly asked, his voice cold and almost mocking. Y/n closed her eyes, head down. She felt so small in front of him.

Things hadn’t been going the best between them for a while. And where it first started because Changbin couldn’t keep his promise of always making time for her when she needed it, it followed with her slowly distancing herself and closing off. The loneliness too much to bear at times.

And she got so used to him not being there that she made friends with the loneliness. It provided her more comfort than Changbin did.

She knew she shouldn’t have put so much of herself into a guy, after all it happened before too. But Changbin was different.

He had to be, right? He was my bestfriend, he knew me so well. I had no reason to watch my back as I let myself fall with my eyes closed. He could read me so well. Then why wasn’t he there when I called for him? Why was I cast aside the same way I was before? Why did he forget what I cried to him about in the past while I was with someone else? How did he forget about his bestfriend?

He promised. As soon as you feel like I’m not giving you enough time, you tell me, and I will drop whatever I’m doing to talk to you and vice versa, he said. If you need me at any moment, you call me, and I will too, he said. I want this to work, i love you so much, he said. I will try my best so it doesn’t get to the point where I don’t give you enough time, he said.

So when she called the first time why did he snicker and tell her he had to figure some stuff out now that he was in university, with it being the first few weeks of it, and things being chaotic. And she understood.

But then he was figuring things out, sorting out his schedule, socializing, partying, making new friends, hanging out with them, going to classes, having meetings with the clubs he joined. And where did she fall in between all that? So she understood.

And when she couldn’t, she called him asking for just a ten minute call a day, she would be okay with just that. Just ten minutes of his attention.

And you can call her an attention whore, that’s okay. She can be one for her boyfriend if she wanted to, she had every right to ask for a little of his attention.

But why didn’t she receive that ten minute call after the fourth day? Why were his texts coming in so late?

30 minutes. 1 hour. 2 hours. 3 hours.

She trusted him, blindly, she knew him all too well not to. He was her bestfriend.

So she called again, tried to get her ten minute call. He was never alone. Friends always surrounding him, and where she was glad and happy for him that he clicked with a circle in university, so he didn’t have to be alone and drowning in his thoughts, she also sat there, on the phone with him, while he sat there with his friends.

And she spoke, fuck, she tried to tell him stuff that happened in her daily life like she always did. She just wanted to fucking talk to her bestfriend like she did the past five years. But who would she speak to when he wasn’t listening to a word she said.

So sometimes she would abruptly stop talking and see if he’d notice. He wouldn’t. And if he would it would be when it’s been too silent on the other side and he would say, “hello? You there?”“Yeah!” She would say in a light voice, so he wouldn’t notice.

And then she was the one drowning. And she hated water, goddammit, she hated it so much, she was terrified of it but she would choose that over the drowning she was going through.

The voices in her head too many, drowning her, screaming over her, comforting her. Because now someone was talking.

Comfort was loneliness, and again, she got used to the sweet lullaby the silence would sing. So loud, yet so calming.

Because silence can’t hurt you, loneliness can’t disappoint you. They won’t ever leave you.

And in months, she was closed off once again.

Where she had her bestfriend in the past, she had no one now.

And she hated herself for it, she hated it because she lost her bestfriend. The only person that could ever help her, the only person that she could ever run to, the only person that she could say anything to.

Suddenly she had no one to help her, that she could run to or that she could talk to.

And everything was back on being suffocating. The empty feeling sucking her in it’s black hole, the constant lost feeling looming over her.

She couldn’t talk to him about herself anymore, she just couldn’t.

So she knew he was meaninglessly taunting her with that question, but was it even appropriate when he knew they were on the rocks? Was he so willing to ask such a risky thing when she was so used to being alone?

Changbin stared at the girl in front of him, wondering what happened.

She used to be so full of light, so full of life. And now she was just a shell of her old self. She was doing so good, they were doing so good.

And he knew it was mostly his fault, and damn, did he hate himself for it. He should’ve seen it before. The signs were obvious.

How did he not see it? He had spent a lot of his time in the arms of the same loneliness for so long, how did he not see it?

He had spent so much of his teenage life, if not all of it, drowning in his own loneliness, his own voices. He had been lost for so long, and she was the one that gave him hope. She helped him without even realizing. Hell, even he didn’t know. Then how did he let this happen to her?

What games was fate playing with him?

He had told her so many times how small things she did or said helped him cope up so much when he was the one drowning. His bestfriend was the light at the end of the tunnel.

How did he push her down the same tunnel he struggled to come out of? The same tunnel she helped him out of? How did he turn his back on the same hands that helped steady him without even knowing anything? How dare he?

He saw her in this state before, he helped her out of it when that bastard shoved her too deep into the claws of self hatred. Loneliness her most comforting friend back then too. He helped her out of it, then how did he let her fall again?

His hands felt clammy now, his body heating up as he tried to keep his emotions at bay.

She gulped down the lump in her throat, not wanting him to see her weak and bothered. She didn’t want to worry him. She hated the thought of him thinking he had to watch over her, he had to keep her from falling again. She didn’t want to be a burden, she felt like that her whole life already.

She took a deep breath as she looked up at him, a small sad smile on her lips and Changbin held in his breath not believing but also knowing where this was going. And it broke the couple’s heart.

“That would be the most reasonable think to do, don’t you think?” She asked, and fuck why did she have to sound so sweet yet so heartbreaking? He thought, gulping down.

“No, we can make this work,” he furrowed his eyebrows, stubborn, hopeful. And y/n almost smiled at her stubborn baby, but she couldn’t. He hadn’t been her baby in a long time.

“Changbin,” she whispered and Changbin hated it. Hated how she called him, how she made him sound pathetic and like a baby and an involuntary sob escaped his lips.

And almost immediately she got up from her seat on his desk chair and her arms were around his wide shoulders as his head pressed against her stomach. Her own tears running down her cheeks as she quietly sobbed with him.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, arms tightly secured around her thighs. She nodded, her cheek resting against his hair as she stroked his locks with one hand, the other secured around his shoulders.

“I’m very sorry, too,” she spoke against his hair, her voice strained.

“No, I was supposed to be there for you. You told me you were not okay, I should’ve been there for you, I-I should’ve, should’ve,” she shushed him, wrapping both of her arms around him and bending forward to rest her head against his shoulder.

“Don’t,” she scolded softly, her constant tears probably wetting his hair as they ran down.

“Don’t lose yourself, okay?” She reminded him, her fingers running through his hair again as she stood up straight. She felt Changbin’s arms tighten a bit more.

“Stop worrying about me, think about yourself for once,” he sternly spoke, his voice rough. He refused to let go. He just needed a little bit more.

“I will,” she said nodding, even though he couldn’t see her and Changbin snorted.

“No, you won’t,” he spat out and she flinched because she knew it too but she decided not to say anything.

-

She had left after calming him down but to be honest, both of them knew the other broke down crying as soon as they were out of each other’s sight.

Changbin stared at his bedroom ceiling, staring at nothing in particular.

A knock at the door brought his attention to it, his eyes shifting to Bang Chan standing at the door.

The older walked in, a tight lipped smile on his lips as he handed a cold water bottle to his friend.

“Thanks, hyung,” Changbin smiled at him, sitting up and taking a sip of the water right away.

“Don’t worry, Bin. Everything will be okay,” he softly spoke, his hand comfortingly grasping Changbin’s shoulder, and the younger couldn’t help but nod, hopeful. Trusting his oldest friend.

“I hope so too,” he muttered.

genre: angst  
au: idol au
warnings:none
word count: 0.7k    
pairing: f!reader x seo changbin 
song: fools by troye sivan

Once upon a time, you could have had everything.

After you landed a well paying job, you had a castle, a one bedroom apartment in a new high-rise building with giant glass windows and an infinity pool on the roof. Once you earned a promotion, you bought a gleaming white carriage with 350 horsepower. When your grandmother passed, you inherited her gold crown with the sheer veil.

All that was missing from the story was a prince.

For years, you never thought you would meet him, but fate finally smiled upon you on your twenty-seventh birthday. The sun shone with a brilliance, and the clouds spread across the blue sky made it feel like the heavens had presented themselves to the mortals on such a blessed day. Distracted by the sight through the café, you bumped into a stranger, splashing your latte all over their shirt. You apologized profusely, but the man assured that he was unharmed. He pulled his baseball cap further down, almost if he was embarrassed by the incident. Then he scurried away.

You assumed you would never see him again after that. To your surprise, he was sitting at the café the following week. Tucked away in a back corner, hunched over a notebook, you would not have noticed him until he rose from his chair with a screeching scrap. An offer to buy him coffee as an apology turned into a chat and then a conversation that you did not want to end. He had a way with words and a sharpness to his tongue that you found strangely charming.

Names were exchanged, but you dared not ask for his phone number. It was too presumptuous, so you instead chose to visit the café every day in hopes that he would also come back. He did.

He worked in the music industry, he said, a producer and writer. When you asked for specifics, he danced around, so you did not pry. The liminal space you two occupied always seemed to be on the verge of collapsing when reality threatened to seep in. One did not wax poetry about doughnuts to strangers, but they did not reveal their deepest, darkest secrets to friends either. He was the only person you told about your loneliness, for the princess in her tower had no confidantes. He talked about the heavy burdens he carried, the immense pressure he placed on himself. Was it the shared pain that brought you closer? Your heart ached when you saw his artfully crafted smiles. They were masterpieces indeed, but the prince needed to be saved in this story.

So you broke the unspoken rule. It was by accident, but when the opportunity presented itself, you could not stop yourself.

Through a magazine cover, you discovered Changbin’s true career. You pored over the interview and the countless ones he had done before. Everything he had a hand in, you watched and listened with great curiosity. It was wrong, but he bared his soul to you; you had to help him. You should have kept your mouth shut, but your selfishness won out.

During your outburst, he shrunk himself into a little ball and tugged his cap down, trying to hide you from his view. When he finally looked up, there was betrayal written across. An apology wouldn’t suffice this time, nor would a barter of your own background. No matter what you did, you could feel him slipping away. You could not blame him, but you did not want to let him go either. You knew the rules, unspoken and spoken, so what compelled you to hold on? It only hurt you.

Finally, the rift grew too large to heal. While he returned to the stage, you sheltered yourself in your castle and watched from afar. You dreamed that he wrote about you, that your existence left something lasting. Yet nothing ever proved your claims, so you gathered the glass pieces of your heart and found a new prince. You wore your crown on your wedding and traveled to a new kingdom.

Now your past is just a fairy tale, a bedtime story you tell your children who do not believe it anyway. Perhaps that is the most difficult thing to come to terms with, that your relationship with Changbin was never possible in the first place.

genre:angst  
au: non-idol au, vaguely historical au, doctor au?  
warnings: descriptions of gore, lobotomy, back alley medical procedures, implications of mental illness  
word count: 0.7k  
pairing: gn!reader x lee felix
song: maniac by stray kids

“Do you hear them?” you hiss. You grip the armrests of your chair and furtively look around the room for the ghosts. All you can make out are blurry shadows along the walls, but those appear to be from the furniture in the room rather than ghosts. You learned how to tell the difference after they tricked you the first few times. You have never been able to see them before, but maybe they will finally show themselves to Doctor Lee Felix. He is worthy, isn’t he? He’s a renowned doctor, and they promised to leave you alone if you brought someone worthy. “Can you see them?”

Doctor Lee leans forward, folds his hands together, and gives you a pleasant smile. “Who?”

The grandmother, with her gnarled fingers and heavy rings, strokes your hair, clawing your scalp and grabbing fistfuls. You scream and whirl around to hit her, but you only make contact with the air. You grab randomly, hoping that you can curl her pearl necklace around your palms and control her like a puppy on a leash.

You cannot, and she laughs. She orders you to kill him. Pluck his eyes out, and give them to me. She promises you honey-sweet tangerines and your favorite sausages.

“No!” you shout. You bury your heads between your knees as you try to stop her from touching your hair again. “Go away!”

“Are you alright?”

Before you can answer, a childhood lullaby fills your ears, even though your ears are muffled with cotton. They’re always loud enough that they can get past your defenses. The little girl sings, her notes crooked and ugly just like a crow’s screech, for you to reach inside Doctor Lee’s chest and hold his heart. Feel his heartbeat in your hands. Watch the blood pump and spill down. Frightfully, you glance up at the doctor who is still patiently waiting for his answer. He asks you again.

You can’t hurt him, so you furiously shake your head. “Make them go away! They won’t stop!” You jerk forward to avoid the grandmother’s grasp and land so close to Doctor Lee that you can see the freckles dotting his cheeks. They look like little stars. “I don’t want to kill you.”

His smile falters for a second, but his mouth curves up again. “Do people ever tell you that you have a few loose screws?”

Your mother, your father. The man who sweeps the grocery store floor and the teenaged boy who lives across the street. “Yes, all the time. Why?”

“Well,” he says as he picks up the drill beside him, “it’s not just a figure of speech. I can fix you, if you’d like.”

Fix you. Like you’re a torn doll who simply needs some stitches to go back to normal. For a few seconds, you can ignore the jeering from the ghosts. “Can you really?”

“Of course. I’ve done it many times before. It’s my specialty.”

You hold his hand in yours. His skin is warm and soft, unlike yours which have been roughened from years of battle with the ghosts. Knives don’t work on them, nor wooden clubs, but that never stops you from trying to get rid of them. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Wonderful.”

A week later, you find yourself lying on a medical bed, staring up at a bright light. The grandmother has returned, and she screams from wherever she is for you to lash out, to scratch crimson red lines down the faces of those hovering around you. A crowd of curious onlookers have gathered to watch Doctor Lee perform a miracle on you. She won’t stop screaming. She wants you to take their eyes so she can have them for herself.

“Please hurry,” you whisper to Doctor Lee. He is dressed in a white lab coat today, and the little girl sings of how handsome he will look when his ribs are cracked open to reveal a pulsing heart. “They’re back, and they want me to hurt you, but I don’t want to.”

He places a calming hand on your forehead. “Close your eyes.”

You do.

When you finally wake up, the ghosts are gone along with a piece of your skull and brain.

genre:angst
au: noir au 
warnings: alcohol, implied drugs
wordcount:1k
pairing: f!reader x hwang hyunjin

Your long fur coat settles around you like a puddle of luxury as you take a seat at the counter. It’s slow tonight, with only a smattering of gentlemen flocking around the stage of the woman who sings in a voice made of honey. Cigar smoke wafts throughout the bar, intermingling with the distinct perfume of booze.

Your eyes wander to the expansive shelves behind the bar and take note of the expensive collection of bottles on the top shelf. The golden scotch interests you, but perhaps another time. Before you can call the dark-haired bartender over, he comes to you instead. With a silky smooth smile, he slides a shot of whiskey across to you. “On the house.”

Rule #1 of The Apothecary: Do not drink anything you did not ask for.

You push it back with your index finger. “I’m more of a gin person myself. Clover Club with a shot of oxy, please.”

“Coming right up.”

While he busies himself with your order, you do your best to keep an impassive expression on your face. However, the cleverly hidden door in the far back of the buildings distracts you. Forget the drinks, people only come to The Apothecary for one reason. You keep one hand on the inside pocket of your coat, feeling for the carefully folded bills inside. They are all accounted for; you know that even through the lining.

You listen to the jazz singer croon into the microphone for another minute, watching the men as they talk amongst themselves, raise glasses of bourbon to their lips, wolf whistle when they spot you lounging in the dark. The lipsticked smile you flash sends them into howls.

The bartender sets down your cocktail in front of you. In a low voice, he says, “He’s ready for you.”

The door is now ajar, weak light filtering through the crack, beckoning you to come in. Taking your drink, you make your way inside. A young man with blond hair sits behind a mahogany desk in a chair made of crimson velvet. Just the sight of him makes your heart pound. Saint Valentine in all of his glory.

“Hey there, dollface,” he says. Then he taps the wooden tray on the desk.

Rule #2 of The Apothecary: Always bring an offering.

You place down your pink cocktail, taking special care to not disturb the line of white foam on top. Then you take out the money and set that on the other end of the tray. “Clover Club,” you inform him as you sit opposite of him, “and the usual.”

He sips on the drink, making a sour face when he tastes the sweetness. “Gin rickeys are much better than this. Dark or light this time? Or both?”

“Both.”

He procures two glass vials from a desk drawer, and you accept them. One vial is filled with a clear, almost iridescent, liquid, and the other is a deep amber tone.

Rule #3 of The Apothecary: Ensure what you are being served is what you requested.

You uncap the light vial and allow yourself a mere drop of the potion. A warmth spreads through you, and an enchanted serenity falls over you. You feel the ghost of your mother’s arms around your shoulders, the dizzying laugh of your best friend, the rhythm of Saint Valentine’s lilting words. For a moment, you are euphoric, dancing atop of heaven’s clouds with Aphrodite smiling upon you.

Then it all disappears.

Without thinking, you clasp your hand over your heart, almost gasping when you find yourself back in the bar. Everything is dull in comparison to what you just experienced. Disappointment and anguish coat you like tar, and your mouth waters for another drop. However, you tamp your desires down and grab your sleeve for an earthly anchor. Saint Valentine sinks into his chair when he notes that you have come down from your high. He nods to the dark vial, and you roll it into your palm.

You pop off the cap before holding it out to him. “Will there ever be a day where you try it instead of me?”

“You know I don’t dabble in my own goods. It’s bad for business.”

“Of course.”

You take a tiny sip. Saint Valentine clouds your thoughts—his midnight eyes, his marble cheeks, his Cupid’s bow. The droll voice he uses when he speaks to you. That perfectly delectable, plump lower lip of his. He is so close. If you stand up and lean across, he would be yours, and you would be his. You want—no, need—to kiss him.

“I…” you breathe, gripping the edge of the desk for support, “I… love—”

You snap out of the spell, a hot blush creeping up your face as you realize how near you are to him. Even after the effects of the drink have worn off, your passion for him still lingers. One accidental move could mean that you would be touching him. However, you fall back into your seat, trying to appear less flustered. He stares back with a faint smirk playing on his lips. You watch them when he asks, “All to your liking?”

In a desperate attempt to regain composure, you give him a cold look that melts as soon as you notice the bob of his throat when he tries the cocktail again. “They’re perfect. As always.” You stand up and smooth your coat. “I’ll see you next week.”

Saint Valentine slowly blinks at you and devilishly smiles, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. “Send my regards to the gentleman you seduce next. God only knows how hurt he’ll be when he discovers what your true intentions are. It might even kill him.”

“See you next week,” you repeat.

You stalk out of the room and then out of the bar. The bartender says something to you as you stroll past, but you cannot hear him over the applause from the stage and the rush of wind as you push open the door. You make it down one block before fumbling for the light vial and consuming all of its contents.

This time you only feel Saint Valentine, only him.

psst if you want a fluffy, valentine’s day story with hyunjin:candy hearts 

genre: slight fluff but mostly angst
au: dark academia au, college au
warnings: mentions of blood, corpses, murder, knives, stabbing
wordcount: 1.2k
pairing: gn!reader x kim seungmin

A cold wind scatters dead leaves across the campus, static clings onto wool sweaters, the squirrels retreat to their trees—all signs of an incoming storm. The sky boasts of large gray clouds, the promise of rain literally looming overhead.

Yet for the past twenty minutes, not a single drop has fallen. As you traverse the campus to the library, you wonder if you should have chosen to wear your oxfords instead of your practical but ill-matching rubber rain boots. The prospect of rain was what stopped you, but you were very nearly tempted to damage your favorite pair of shoes because Kim Seungmin asked if you wanted to study together.

As charming as you found him, you nonetheless donned your cherry-red boots before you left your dorm and took what your friends referred to as your ‘funeral umbrella’ in case a storm did arrive. You discover that you made the correct choice when you approach the steps outside of the library, when the sky finally enacts its threat.

It comes down all at once, and you scramble up the darkening stairs with your unopened umbrella. Fat water droplets pelt your cheeks, and lightning flashes in the distance, momentarily lighting up the world before it falls dim again. A small crowd has gathered at the door to watch, and you hastily push past them, muttering apologies as you frantically smoothing your wild hair before entering the premises.

You suppose today has proved to be an unfortunate sort of day because Seungmin is one of the onlookers. He calls your name, and you wave back, trying to presume a nonchalant pose that turns out to be more awkward than you imagined. When he makes his way over to you, you are thoroughly flustered.

And you haven’t even said a word to him yet.

“Forgot you had that?” he teases, gesturing to your umbrella.

“I thought I could make it. It all happened so fast.” You nervously thumb the strap of your worn leather messenger bag and wonder how you are going to make it through the study session. “Good thing you got here before it started.”

“Yeah, I just missed it. I arrived a little before you did. But now that you’re here,” he says, “where should we go? I like the basement level the best, but I’ll let you choose since you got rained on.”

You select the fourth floor, the topmost one with the large floor-to-ceiling windows and a terrace overlooking the historic campus. Brick buildings laced with ivy, sun-dappled maple trees—with such a view, you have no clue why anyone would prefer the fluorescent lights and dust of the basement.

When you ask him, he simply replies, “No one’s ever there.”

Your shoes make uncomfortable squelching sounds rather than the satisfying clicks you are accustomed to. The students lounging on the first floor eye you as you pass by, but Seungmin continues striding forward, slowing his steps when he remembers that he is walking alongside someone for a change.

“I can hold your umbrella for you,” he offers.

“I’m fine. Oh,” you realize as you now look more carefully at him, “you didn’t bring one, did you?” Before you lose your nerve, you add, “I can walk you home or to your car or whatever if it’s still raining when we’re done.”

He smiles. If you were the dramatic, romantic sort—and you are—you would liken it to the sun. “Really? Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” you shyly reply as you press your thumb to the elevator button. It has always felt wrong to you that a stately, old building like the library has something as modern as this. Sometimes it feels as if the university agrees since the elevator works like it is as old as the invention of the apparatus itself. “You said 9 in your text, right?”

“Yeah, but we can honestly study until closing if you want. I don’t have anything planned for tonight.”

“That sounds great! I mean, ‘cause I also—”

A loud rattle interrupts you. The silver doors open, and a boy with a near identical messenger bag to yours, walks out. You and Seungmin step inside and stand a delicate distance away from each other in the middle. You push the button for the fourth floor, and the doors shut, leaving just you and Seungmin alone, together, underneath a flickering panel of light. The inner workings of the elevator shift and creak as they carry you upwards.

A crack of thunder, able to be heard even through the walls, makes you jump. The light disappears the same instant, and a frightened cry escapes your mouth when everything goes black. Seungmin asks if you’re okay, and you assure him that you’re fine. The elevator is at a standstill.

“I think we lost power,” you uselessly say after a few seconds, when it is clear that the outage is not going to be momentary. You fumble for your phone, only to reason that there will be no service anyway. You turn on the flashlight and direct at the panel of buttons. “Hopefully the emergency call actually works.”

Seungmin seems rather delighted by the situation. “Can I do it?”

Unfortunately for him, the elevator starts going back down. Everything is still dark though, so you and Seungmin exchange concerned looks when you both voice your confusions. As the ground floor approaches, the confusion morphs into unease when you hear the commotion on the other side of the doors: distant screaming, a multitude of hushed conversations that have become a sea of noise, and orders being shouted.

“What the fuck is happening?”

You grip your umbrella handle tighter while Seungmin puts his arm protectively in front of you when the doors open. The first floor is still swathed in darkness, but with the help of flashlights from everywhere, you can make out a crowd of people crouching near the front entrance. Lightning flashes, illuminating dozens of faces against the windows. As Seungmin guides you out, you catch whispers.

Knife. Stab. Murder.

No, two murders. Maybe three. Definitely more than one.

You pull on Seungmin’s sweater sleeve. “Let’s stay here,” you say before he can get any closer to the crowd. A wide berth has been given to the crime scene because of a security guard, but Seungmin seems entranced by it. Half of the library seems to be in the same stupor as well. “I don’t think we’ll be able to leave.”

“Yeah, probably not.” He sweeps a hand through his hair and sighs. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

You echo the same sentiment and let out a sigh of relief when you hear sirens in the distance. When the paramedics come with stretchers and not body bags, for a moment, you hope that this is all a mistake and that someone simply fainted. But when the crowd gets up to make room for the paramedics, through the gaps, you see a dark pool of something that can only be blood. Then a limp hand laying leadenly across the floor.

“Don’t look,” Seungmin warns too late.

“I know.”

You tear your eyes away but not before seeing a police officer pick up a bloody messenger bag that looks eerily similar to yours.

Clap of Thunder | l.mh [p1]

Pairing: Lee Minho x OC (Estela)

Summary:Estela has learned a lot about people. How to charm them to get whenever she wants, how to sweet talk her way out of anything. How to be nice here and rude there. The most important thing she has learned is how to kill a man. There are a million ways to do so and she knows the most important one, break his heart.

WC: 14.3k

Warnings: mdni. violence. Drugs, alcohol, cursing. Talks of different torture methods. Blood mentions. Mafia content that comes with the territory. Minho is an alleged murderer but who isn’t in this story honestly, acab is heavy in this fic, side ships, aged up character(s),

Smut Warnings: pt 1 includes: kink negotiations, bdsm themes, cunnilingus, pet names (baby girl, dollface), slapping, sexual bruises, etc

A/N:this was originally written as apart of the april clownracha mafia prompt, since then it has flourished to be way too big for its britches

Taglist:(reply or askbox to be added)@burningupp@sunnytaes@saltyone101

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I learned at a young age that there were multiple ways to kill a person. There was the traditional violence, something that could mutilate their bodies and make sure they would never breathe again.

There was another way, a way to make a person wish they would never take another breath for as long as they lived. A way to make someone cry with every too big gasp or wish they could start all over fresh and anew, kill their own beings just so they wouldn’t feel the pain you caused them. Killing someone was easy and I knew hundreds of ways to do it, constantly calculating each way when I walked into a room.

Torturing a person was harder, lasted longer, and felt sweeter.

Lia’s kiss was sweeter than most of what she gave to me. Sweet and almost pure, a bright and bloody lip stain smearing my cheek. I groaned at her, wiping the lipstick print off my face. 

“What? Suddenly dislike my kiss, sweetheart?” Lia smiled one of those looks that made her seem docile, cute even. Something that made her seem like a peach. Her lip was still bleeding as I tossed her the warm and wet rag. She snatched it up before pressing it to her cheek, that sick smile still on her face.

If she was a peach, she’d be rotten.

“One day, you have to get back out there with us,” she plopped down onto the couch, her eyes clouded and dreamy as she reminisced, “It’s not fun running the city when my favorite girl isn’t there.”

I just looked at her before sighing, turning towards our bedroom door, “Don’t stain our couch.”

“Help me shower? Clean my wounds for me like you used to?”

“Bother the medic, Julia.”

“Julia!” Lia scoffed, her voice breaking off into a yell as she rushed off the couch, stopping me before I could get too far, “Don’t tell me you’re angry with me again.”

Lia never really liked when I called her by her full name or anyone doing so for that matter. Putting her out at times felt like telling a spoiled princess she couldn’t go to the ball. It was dramatic, overdone, and painful for everyone involved. Lia glowered at me as she pouted, her cute bottom lip poking out.

“Come on, Estela, don’t be like that,” she looked up at me sweetly, tugging on my shirt trying to bring me closer. Once upon a time, I think she thought she and this pout of hers had some control over me. It didn’t then, and it surely doesn’t now. I yanked back and if she could pout more, she would have.

“Don’t annoy me, Julia.”

“Seems like everything I do annoys you!”

“Not just you.”

“Excuse me, Boss,” a weak knock sounded on my bedroom door the next morning. Lia must have left the door unlocked after I kicked her out, no doubt angry I wouldn’t let her into my bedroom for the third time that month.

I slowly blinked awake, trying to remember what day it was. What month even? Friday? No, it’s Monday. Yesterday, I attended that church service at our funeral house. Month? April? Possibly with how it’s raining outside. Since when do I own popcorn ceilings? I have to get that fixed immediately. I’ll let Yeji know to get it fixed. It was such an eyesore.

A quick look to my left told me I fell asleep drinking the whiskey I poured for myself. The condensation left a pool of water on the dark wood. Sitting up, I grabbed the glass, chugging the last of it down. 

Breakfast of champions.

The knock happened again.

I stood up slowly, taking the time to stretch out each limb before walking over to the window and opening the curtain, letting the sunlight stream through.

My room was lit up nicely this way. Even though the only things in this place was a bed, a nightstand, a laptop, and a lockbox of all my weapons. Sighing, I let my hair fall free from my scarf and walked over to the door.

His hand was poised to knock again when I answered the door, rings glinting off his fingers as the sun hit them. He gasped softly before quickly putting his hand down and bowing to me.

“Good morning, Boss,” his pretty dark hair fell into his face. Today, he was wearing one of those all black face masks I see the others in at times, however since he was with me, it was pulled down to show off his smile. He smiled brightly, “You look amazing, Boss.”

I grunted in response, “What does Hongjoong want this early, San?”

“Hongjoong is requesting you meet him soon,” Choi San notified me as if it was obvious. It probably was, “He said you guys were supposed to have breakfast today.”

“What time is it?”

“2 pm, Boss.”

I rolled my eyes. Another day gone. Seriously, what was I even doing?

“Alright, tell Yeji to pull my car around. Tell Hongjoong I’ll be at his place shortly,” I ordered San around easily and he nodded, pulling out his phone. Choi San was more than used to servitude under me.

“Should I also get Wooyoung to bring you something to eat?”

“Unnecessary.”

“Dr. Song said-”

“I don’t care what Mingi said, San.”

“I do!” San chirped up before shrinking back down as he realized he was talking back to me. I raised an eyebrow at this sudden admission. San bowed quickly, keeping his head down as he spoke. He started to wring his hands out, the metal of his rings being constantly twisted, “Apologies for talking out of place, Boss, but you seriously need to eat better. Dr. Song instructed me to keep track of your eating habits and I have been!”

“You can keep track of my eating habits but you couldn’t even peddle on your corner without getting distracted?”

San at least had the common sense to look ashamed of his shortcomings before he spoke again, “You haven’t ate anything substantial in a couple days. I’m ordering you food, Boss. You also smell of whiskey so shower before I take you to Hongjoong.”

“Who in the absolute hell do you-”

“Do you want me to say it or do you want Hongjoong to say it?”

San made a point which was more than aggravating, “Fine. While I shower, make sure Yeji is prepared to take me anywhere I wish to eat. I don’t feel like eating in Hongjoong’s presence.”

“Yes, ma’am. What shall I have Yeji get for you?”

“I want to stop at Felix’s bakery. If I must eat, at least let Felix make it for me.”

San nodded, typing out a quick text before putting his phone away, “We worry about you, Boss.”

“Shut up, San.”

San simply nodded before leaving my condo. I sighed as the energy left my body. Maybe I should have listened to my father all those years ago and started taking my medicine more regularly. Social situations were getting more draining. I snatched the bottle off my nightstand and took two of the anti-depressants dry. Mingi was right in saying it was hard to get used to these pills. 

Maybe I should go back to therapy.

I remember being younger and how my father rarely talked about his parents. Said it wasn’t necessary, terrible for his mental just to even think of them in a small capacity. Just as well, I never met them while he was alive. He didn’t want me to. He would tell me about how old school they were, how their favorite methods of torture was waterboarding. The act of slowly drowning your victim. A painful, mentally agonizing form of torture that left no marks. It was repugnant. It was the best way to torture a person to get something out of them. The best way to extort. 

Sometimes, I could shower without screaming. As long as my back was turned from the stream of water, I was fine. If my face was caught in it, I could still feel the burn of the water filling my throat. The tears blinking away. The constant throwing up of water for hours upon hours after. There were no permanent physical scars to it.

“Where is your mother, Estela?” 

“I don’t know,” I didn’t know if my face was covered in tears or the freezing cold water that was being poured down my cellophane wrapped mouth. This was agonizing and it felt like it was going on forever. My body shuddered when he touched me, his face reeking of his favorite scotch brand and Colombian cigars.

“Protecting that slut won’t save you.”

“Please. Leave me alone, Dad, please.”

He would just chuckle, “Look at you, protecting that little slut as she runs off with mymoney! My hard-earned money! Clothes I bought her! Car in my name! Blackmailing me with my secrets! Who is here protecting you, Estela? Not your dear, sweet mommy.”

“Sir, we shouldn’t be-”

“Shut up, boy!” My father regarded Hongjoong angrily as the young boy gingerly held the bucket of water. Hongjoong didn’t move an inch as my father turned his rage onto him, simply just blinking. He was a fresh runner at that time. He wasn’t the second in command that he was now. He wasn’t my best friend yet. Just a newbie looking for a place to belong and forced to watch me get tortured for my mother’s infidelities.

In a way, I felt sorry for Kim Hongjoong. He was kicked out at a young age, working multiple jobs to try to take care of himself. Then he made the mistake of stumbling across my aforementioned mother. She would poke his cheeks, call him cute, and say that the grime covered boy could come into our mansion. Our estate. Work for us, free housing, free food. All he had to do was keep careful watch for her. Keep her dirty secrets.

He did so marvelously. So well that no one knew her secrets, no one even knew that Hongjoong knew them. Not my dear father, at least. Instead, he assumed I would know. Assumed I would know why she ran away to another country. Why she took so much of his money and prized possessions. Why she took my father’s secrets to another mafia. 

I didn’t know but it was my cross to bear.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Back from the dead?” Bang Chan smirked as Lee Minho stepped into the room. Minho smiled at the older man. It was hard not to when Chan’s smile was just so contagious.

“Thanatos himself will have to drag me down before I let those two-bit gangsters kill me,” Minho laughed as he sank down into the chair that Seonghwa pulled out for him. He settled into it before he was pushed back up into the table. Park Seonghwa patted his shoulder as he gestured to the meal in front of him.

Lee Minho would describe his lifestyle as humble. The house he lived in was a quaint five bedroom, two story house. A two car garage with an apartment over it where Seonghwa slept when he wasn’t being paid to stay by Minho’s side every second. A basement that was practically an armada. A glorious master suite that was designed and custom made to fit all of Minho’s needs. A newly renovated kitchen. An outdoor pool with an attached jacuzzi. Four bedrooms he filled with whatever whims he craved.

Yes, his suit was made out of the finest fabrics and each one custom made to fit him. And maybe the jewelry he wore was also cut of only the richest carats and handcrafted by the most careful of hands to be made just for him. Well, maybe Lee Minho only knew the finer things in life, only knew proper indulgence, but he was humble.

Even when his personal chef made a dish he disliked, he was humble. Even when that same chef messed up one of his favorite meals, he kept his screaming and disgust to a minimum. 

It was even easier to remain humble when that same chef tried to poison the mafia leader. Chan easily stepped in to take care of him, but Lee Minho was as benevolent as a deity. He understood and nodded as the chef pleaded, begged for mercy. Minho understood, how could he not. When someone is extorting your family, practically forcing you to do something so vile to someone else, at the risk of your own life? How could you not want to poison Lee Minho in order to save your family from the other bad guys?

Minho understood, and since he was humble, so humble actually that he was not afraid to twirl the knife in his hands, one, two, three times before it hit his target.

He could hear Seonghwa groan at the mess he made, the one he would have to clean up. His eyes were on Chan as the older man smiled at the chef as he laid on the kitchen floor. 

Minho was trained to taste poison at a young age, microdosing on it like it was his daily vitamins. Minho knew all the weak points of everyone who stepped into this eyesight, accessing them so that if the time ever came, he could easily dismantle anyone and everyone who threatened him. He was rich, he considered himself kind, poised, trained, an absolute beast. 

Most of all, he was humble. A heart on his sleeve kind of guy. Just your average run of the mill type.

“You just got back and you’re already ruining the fresh wax seal,” Seonghwa said with a deep sigh as he went to call the clean-up crew. Bang Chan was still smiling at the body as Minho handed him the dagger. 

Chan delicately cleaned the blade for him with his handkerchief before handing it back to him. Minho placed the knife back in its holder, the putrid scent of iron filling his nose, even with it being clean of blood. Chan giggled before giving a slight nudging kick to the limp body that was pouring out blood on their feet, “He made good bibimbap.”

“No, he didn’t,” Minho sighed heavily as he turned and walked out the kitchen. His meal was ruined and he didn’t feel like cooking.

“Do we think it was a hit put out by Onyx Star Syndicate?” 

Minho regarded Chan for a second, thinking about the question, “Doesn’t exactly seem like their dear leaders style. He’s more upfront.”

“We don’t know much about Kim Hongjoong. He could be capable of anything.”

“No one does,” the leader of Red Thunder shook his head, already feeling his mind start to process just who exactly is dumb enough to order someone to poison Lee Minho. Who dared to think he was stupid enough to fall for such a dumb, obvious trick?

“Shall I order you take-out?” Chan said, taking note of his mood. If Minho was humble, Chan was considerate. They worked well together.

“How about we go out for a meal? I feel like I don’t interact with this city enough. Not yet, at least.”

“That may be a little hard, Minho,” Chan said, never using honorifics when it came to Minho. They have known each other too long for that, “The Onyx’s seem to own everything around here.”

“I’m sure a meal at one of their smaller restaurants will cause them no problems,” Minho shrugged on his leather jacket, switching out of the Armani sportscoat he had on earlier, “Besides, it’s not like people truly know our faces. They use our establishments often. As long as we’re cordial, it should be no problem. We’re giving them our money anyway”

“Understood. Where would you like to go?”

“Is there a bakery near here? I am craving a really good brownie to finish off my meal.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hongjoong expects us at his home in forty minutes, Estela,” Yeji held up her phone as she typed something out, barely looking up at me as she spoke. If it was anyone else, I would be offended, “I told him he should just meet us here but he said it’s business.”

“Friends for more than five years and he thinks he can boss his own boss around,” I sighed and shook my head. As if I could hold anything but love for that spitfire man, “I give him my legacy, and he hands me orders.”

Yeji just shook her head. She’s known me for way longer and is not afraid to shove that fact in my face, “He’s an idiot.”

We got into line at the bakery, looking up at the chalkboard menu. Felix’s gentle yet caring touch lingered throughout the place. Soft music echoed through the speakers and it only felt relaxing inside even with all the talking going on. It was a nicely decorated place. The walls were a soft, pale yellow and all the furnishings were a soft sage green. Pictures of different idols and scenic views decorated the walls. Some stuffed animals on tables and fresh flowers everywhere.

“Do you want your usual?”

“I think I want to try something new, Yeji.”

Yeji just hummed before looking back down at her phone. She trusted me too well to be aware of our surroundings. I wouldn’t take it away from her though.

Hwang Yeji was brutal in her job as my bodyguard.

“Yeji!” A voice chirped as we reached the front counter before a long haired brunette popped up in front of us. His hair pulled back into a beanie but it left his pretty face on display. The perfect cupid’s bow and the skin dotted in freckles. His apron was covered in whatever he baked today as he popped up to take care of our order.

No one here knew who I was. Hell, no one outside of Hongjoong, Yeji, Lia, Wooyoung, and San knew the truth. Our other mafia members didn’t. Not even the smaller heads like Changbin and Jeongin. To them, Hongjoong was the head of the crew, I was just his best friend, the pretty girl on his shoulder that they kept safe from time to time. The girl Lia took home some days and Hongjoong the others. Hell, Estela only appeared randomly and she worked at a flower shop that supplied flowers for funerals and massive events funded by the gang. She was so sweet and innocent when she put the act on, she couldn’t be completely corrupted by the evil mafia. Estela couldn’t be the head of the Onyx Star Syndicate that ruled over half of their country. She couldn’t have been raised to be just the cold-hearted, ruthless leader that Hongjoong pretended to be. 

There was no way.

“Hi, Felix,” Yeji said, turning on the charm. To anyone else, it looked like we were just two girls going to hang out before doing whatever young girls did these days. They didn’t know we had at least 7 weapons on us a piece and were shaking, readying our bodies for anything. Constantly in motion, “What’s good today?”

“Besides that pretty smile on your face?” Felix flirted with a giggle and I rolled my eyes, “I’ve been experimenting with a stuffed spinach and cheese croissant? That and some peach white tea? Sounds amazing right. Estela, should I get started on your usual? Caprese on ciabatta and a gooey brownie?”

“I want the croissant you mentioned. And a gooey brownie.”

Felix tried not to act surprised. It didn’t work, “Two years of getting the same thing every time you come in and now you want to change it up?”

“I still want a basic Americano.”

“Of course you do,” Felix giggled, the sound as smooth as air, ringing up our order after Yeji rattled off what she wanted. The smile he gave us could make flowers bloom.

“Looks like you got some new help,” I said as I slid over some cash. I looked at the two people who were busying themselves cleaning the counter and the other making drinks.

“Yeah, I can finally afford to have some help these days,” Felix smiled again but this time the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t know I knew his business almost tanked and why it was flourishing now. He didn’t know I made sure Hongjoong gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

After all, I couldn’t live without Felix’s brownies.

I looked at them again. I remember Joong telling me Felix ended up hiring some boys who worked for the rivals, Red Thunder. He wanted to tell Felix to fire them but I stopped him. This is a good way to get information on their leader. The faceless boss of Red Thunder was almost as elusive as me. 

Almost.

Red Thunder was a relatively new criminal organization to our area. Supposedly they were big in a couple cities over. Specialist in weapons and smuggling, the mafia was originally from a port city. They were great in what they did there. Providing efficiently and quickly to all who needed their product. Then they stuck their hands into the underground gambling ring and struck gold in more ways then one, allowing them the money to take over the city’s politics. Put their funds in the hands of corrupt politicians who didn’t care for nothing if not power. Their city was in their red hands, caught in the web like no other. The story goes that their current boss let his middle son leave, start his own league since he wasn’t taking over the mafia there, and the son decided that he wanted to come here, beat out one of the biggest mafias in the country.

Good luck to him, because I will be damned before I let somone ruin what I have built.

“Yeosang. Hyunjin, Come say hi,” Felix said and the two came over. They were both beautiful men, which may contribute to why Felix hired them. Things sell when someone with such killing looks is selling them to you.

They both nodded in a greeting.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” Hyunjin smiled and it was subtle but I noticed the nervous flicker in Yeji’s eyes. Yeji didn’t know much about her family after they gave her up to my mother. But she knew her last name.

It didn’t happen much these days, and it didn’t happen often, but there were some families, the richer ones in our mafia that held mistresses and concubines. That was normal. Them getting pregnant with a child by their benefactors? Normal. Them giving up the child for foster care is normal. What wasn’t normal was the selling. Getting rid of the kid by any means necessary. What wasn’t normal was my mother buying the kid for twice the amount and raising them alongside me as if they were my younger sister.

Sometimes abnormal was good.

“I assume you are Yeosang,” I said as Yeji tried to keep her cool. I could already see the wheels turning in her head and the itch to make sure she knew everything about this man as soon as she could.

“Yes, nice to meet you. Felix always tells us about how much he likes all his regulars.”

“Just one more,” Felix said as a blush took over his face.

“Just one more,” This Hyunjin teased, mocking Felix’s deeper voice, “Sorry, Felix, but anytime he walks in, you sputter and run to the back room.”

“Oh?”

“Shut up, Hyunjin.”

“It’s true. He says hi to you in that Australian accent of his and you turn to mush,” Yeosang commented and Felix looked as if he wanted to catapult into the sun.

“Please shut up.”

“Is that so?” A voice, an Australian voice, sounded off behind us and Felix yelped, turning bright red before running to the back room.

Yeji and I turned around to see the owner of the voice. 

The man had dyed silver hair, slicked back with a couple of curls decorating his forehead. A strong scar stretched across his forehead to an eyebrow ring and another one decorated his high cheekbones. His full lips were stretched into a wide smile, showing off dimples and a sparkling diamond septum piercing. His arms looked heavily tatted, inked skin peeking out from the sleeves on his sweatshirt. Even though the sweatshirt, I could tell just how buff he was, how toned he must be. 

“Hi, I’m Chris,” yeah, that man was Australian. This had to be Felix’s guy. I’m not one to play matchmaker but who knew twink Felix wanted a man who looked like he could dominate the ever-living fuck out of him. Kinky.

“Aussie guy!” Hyunjin yelled before Yeosang came and grabbed him to help prepare for food. 

“I’ll order for us,” the Australian said to the man beside him who nodded.

“Wow, he’s hot,” Yeji breathed out and I had to agree as Chris left. I turned to take in his companion.

He had an all-black face mask on so we couldn’t completely determine all of what he looked like. Just from the eyes alone, you felt caught in a web as his gaze landed. The light hit the man’s eyes in such a way that they seemed to be dazzling. His dark hair was floppy as it rested on his forehead, looking soft and well taken care of. A sliver of forehead could be seen around the gentle curls that framed his face. His ears were covered in a delicate mix of earrings. The man wore dark black slacks that were obviously designer and a nice silk shirt with a leather jacket. One look at his shoes and I knew they were the same Ferragamo dress shoes that San always cried about wanting. His jewelry looked custom. Hell, the man looked as if he walked out of a GQ magazine, that body of lean tone muscle poised as if both modeling and ready to attack. The thing that kept my attention on him was the ring on his finger. 

A silver ring, so shiny it gleamed in the sun. Rubies were embedded into the thick band with a large, roughly cut gemstone, almost like cloudy quartz, maybe something more than that. 

“It’s impolite to stare,” his voice was gentle and deep. His eyes were settled on me as if expecting me to back down with how intense his glare was. I suppose a normal girl would.

I guess I should act like one, “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!”

Yeji scoffed as the man just shook his head and walked past us to find a table. Yeji pulled me to do the same, but something made me keep an eye on that man.

“Why are you staring that man down?” Yeji whispered to me in French.

I guess those years we spent in France when we were younger were more than beneficial, “His ring. Look up the gemstone.”

“Say please?”

“Do it and I won’t tell Jisung about your major crush on him.”

“I can’t believe people say there’s no better person in this world than a sister,” Yeji groaned in disgust as she did what I asked, “21 damn years on this planet with you and you’re still a pain in the ass.”

“You’re welcome.”

By the time our food came and I took my first sip of coffee, Yeji found it.

“Fulgurite? A quartz type created from lightning,” Yeji showed me her phone before eating her own meal. I went ahead and read the article.

Interesting. Who gets jewelry made so nicely over fulgurite? 

“That man has a lightning bolt tattooed,” Yeji said, looking at Chris from where we sat. They were across the store but I never sat with my back facing the door so I couldn’t see them. Yeji had my back as she watched them.

“He took off his hoodie. Right on the bicep. A bright red lightning bolt. Can’t miss the detail of it though.”

All of my nerves felt alive instantly. Red lightning bolt, the symbol for Red Thunder Mafia’s heads. The ones that were close to the top. Not many people knew that fact besides other mafia leaders. We all got tatted at a young age with our symbols. The only way I got away without one was I didn’t want my father to be the one to tattoo me. Didn’t want to give him my pain, as was tradition.

Besides, I don’t need a black star tattooed. I am a black woman named Star. I am the symbol. 

“Interesting, coming onto our property,” I whispered in French. The gears in my head were already working. If Chris was a part of Red Thunder, then that man with him had to be…

“Estela,” Yeji’s voice held a slight warning I chose to ignore, “We have 30 minutes before Hongjoong. Please don’t do anything to ruin the schedule. We can deal with this another time.”

“That’s your only concern?”

“You and I both know you can handle yourself.”

I giggled as I slid out of the booth and walked back up to the front counter. Felix was still hiding in the backroom, occasionally peeking his head through the back door window, his yellow beanie and eyes being the only thing seen as he watched Chris. Hyunjin remained sat at the counter, a bored expression on his face.

“Can I order something?” I kept my voice soft as I approached. Hyunjin smiled brightly at me. I noticed the cutest mole that sat underneath his eye as his eyes became sweet moons as the smile landed. What a bright-looking boy to be a rookie for the rival. I’ll let Jeongin know to keep a watch on him from now on.

We learned the hard way not to trust the sweet-looking ones.

“Of course, sweetheart, what can I get you?”

“I want to buy that pretty man in the mask one of Felix’s brownies, please. Tell him it’s from me, please?” I practically begged, keeping my voice light. A gentle point in the right direction and Hyunjin smiled with a nod. 

“Of course, how could I not? I’m a hopeless romantic!”

It was hard to walk back to the table without a smirk on my face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chan was giggling all throughout lunch. Minho glowered at him, gently lifting his mask every once in a while to take a bite or a sip of his drink.

“Could you stop jumping up and down like a toddler?” Minho fiddled with his father’s ring on his finger. He just got it resized and was getting used to wearing the heavy ring. Why did his ancestors decide on such a gaudy piece? 

“Didn’t you hear? The pretty baker apparently gets turned to mush by me,” Chan nearly squealed, his legs swinging back and forth as he danced along to the song that played. Minho sighed.

“You probably could with all that muscle, you bonehead.”

“Hey,” Chan’s bottom lip poked out, causing his top lip to gently touch the septum ring, “Meanie.”

“Go ask him out,” the brownie was good, he noted. He wouldn’t mind if the baker boy was around if he could keep eating these brownies, “He’s a good Brownie Boy.”

“We should probably find out his name.”

Minho couldn’t give a damn what his name was. Chan cared though, so he guessed he would too.

“Excuse me, sirs,” Minho didn’t bother to look up as one of the workers came up to them. He knew him to be one of their newer recruits working under Chaeryeong’s unit. Hyunjin and Yeosang probably didn’t even know they were next to their superiors, waiting on him hand and foot like they were meant to. Maybe he should station them at the Main House for a while.

“Hello, Hyunjin, what can we do for you?” Minho said and Hyunjin looked slightly taken aback, his features easily showed his emotions. He sighed internally. Hopefully, Chaeryeong can kill that habit of his.

“How’d you know my name?”

“What do you need?” Chan repeated Minho’s question. Minho didn’t like to repeat himself.

Hyunjin blinked himself out of his surprise, “Oh, um, yeah.”

He held up a wax paper bag to Minho, “Estela, that girl over there. She bought this for you.”

Minho supposed she was pretty enough. The same girl who stared at him earlier, not even any type of shame covering her face when she was caught. Smooth, deeply brown skin covered her strong features. High cheek bones and glossy lips were smiling his way. He could tell her hair as long as it was brushed into a high, curly ponytail. Her outfit was simple enough, but she was subtle. To the untrained eye (Minho had a trained eye, don’t worry), it looked as if her outfit was just dark flared jeans and a black turtleneck. Minho knew a designer label when he saw it. Minho knew the tennis bracelet on her wrist wasn’t fake but was probably custom. The apple watch she had, though the band looked old, had to be the newest model, and so was her phone. Her purse was the kicker though. Dingey, probably decades old, probably considered vintage as some old designer’s name decorated it.

The girl was flexing, but it was a subtle flex. An almost humble brag. Lee Minho appreciated that.

Minho took the wax paper bag from Hyunjin, gesturing towards the girl. His face was covered but he smiled underneath, hoping it still showed his gratitude. 

“Shouldn’t you go and thank her?” Chan questioned him and Minho rolled his eyes as he turned back to the table. He could still feel the girl staring down the back of his neck. She really did have no shame.

“No, but, Hyunjin,” Minho slid over a wad of cash to him, “Let the girl know she can have anything her and her friend want.”

Hyunjin nodded before bowing and walking. Chan just shook his head slightly, “Talking to her would have been too hard?”

“She just wants my attention. Here I am, giving it to her.”

“She’s pretty,” Chan stated, taking another bite of his sandwich, “Besides when was the last time you got laid?”

“Getting laid is not one of my main concerns, no.”

“It should be, especially if she looks like that,” Chan shrugged, taking a drink, “Go on, eat Minho.”

Minho was beginning to actually enjoy his food before he was approached again. This time by a worker he didn’t see before, one with pretty, long, and dark hair and a young face. Maybe the bangs made her seem younger than she was. Probably a student that worked with Felix. He couldn’t tell if she was a part of any mafia dealings at all. 

“Hi, sorry to disturb you, sir. I was told by Miss Estela, and paid rather well, to come over here and spit in your food.” the young girl said with a small giggle and Chan sucked in a breath in shock and Minho simply blinked in response.

“Excuse me?”

“She said that she would be damned before having a man ignore her kindness and just shove money back in her face,” the girl said before sighing, “That’s actually the meanest words I’ve ever known Miss Estela to say. She doesn’t particularly like to be ignored, sir.”

“What’s your name, kid? How much did she pay you?”

“Yuna,” she bowed politely again, “Five hundred dollars to spit in your food.”

“That’s it?” Minho laughed a little breathy as he reached into his pocket and counted some notes out before sliding that pile over to Yuna, “Here’s double that to not spit in my food and to tell your Miss Estela that I don’t take threats kindly.”

“Estela,” Chan repeated the name once Yuna left to relay the message, “That’s French, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Minho didn’t care. If the girl wanted to leave an impression, she sure did. He’d give her that much.

It wasn’t long before Yuna came back, handing him a business card, “From Miss Estela.”

Minho took the card before Yuna walked away, no doubt tired of playing the messenger game even if it left her two thousand dollars richer at the end. 

“She left,” Chan noted as he kept watchful eyes on the door. Minho looked at the card.

Persephone’s Heart

Estela, Owner & Florist

Office: xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hours: Mondays-Fridays: 9AM-7PM, Closed Saturdays and Sundays

458 Gray Way

The card was subtle in decorations. Pretty flowers decorating the edges. It was an all-black card with gold lettering. Quality made to last. Another subtle flex that even for her small business and something as inconsequential as business cards, she got the best material they could be printed on.

He flipped it over to the back to see pretty cursive lettering.

Come by sometime, I’d love to give you flowers as pretty as you. And maybe, you can enjoy other types of brownies.

Minho tucked the card into his wallet as Chan eyed him. A laugh left Chan’s mouth before he could stop it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hongjoong was always dressed nicely. His neatly split dyed black and white hair was styled strategically, a method I know he spent years perfecting. His hair was unruly in style but he made it work. Even just wearing a t-shirt and jeans he looked like a model. His eyeglasses sat perched on his face as he looked at me in contempt, his lip pouty. His darkly outlined eyes were like boba pearls as he looked at me, his eyebrows curved as he looked at me.

“I haven’t seen my best friend in weeks,” Kim Hongjoong hugged me before I could allow him. I tried not to let my disdain show and let him.

“You see Wooyoung every day.”

“You bitch,” Hongjoong slapped my arm. It barely fazed me, “I’m talking about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this meeting over with. I left Jisung at the shop by himself today. I need to at least be there to close.”

Hongjoong frowned at me before gesturing for me to sit in his office. The room was as eclectic as he was, covered in a multitude of various knickknacks. His floors had the softest rainbow-printed rugs that matched curtains. His deck was a glossy gray color and held all of his most prized possessions, from a solid gold harmonica to a picture of us when we were seventeen. Probably the last time either of us smiled genuinely.

We shouldn’t have been smiling then.

“Take a seat, Joong,” I said and he sat down across from me at his desk while I sat in his extra chair across from him, “I really did not have to do that, you know?”

“I don’t like to feel like I’m in charge when I’m with you.”

“What a submissive thing to say.”

Hongjoong had the nerve to blush at my words before waving me off, “We have a few things to discuss.”

The meeting was long and tiring, as it usually was. Hongjoong was straight to the point but no situation we dealt with was. We spent the next couple of hours trying to make everyone we can happy, give us money, or any other business we needed to attend to before my phone rang.

Han Jisung.

“Hey, Hannie, what is it?”

I could easily envision the squirrelly man as he spoke. Han Jisung, while being a rookie under the mafia, still was a sweet kid. Just needed money to help his family out, and we were happy to give it, perhaps a little more leniently than usual. If I paid him a couple extra thousand on some paychecks or cleared some bills and loans from him here and there, he was forever grateful. I didn’t have the heart to throw him completely into our business, instead keeping him on the outskirts as an errand boy and a worker in my shop. 

“Hey, boss, there’s a man here? Says he won’t leave till you show up. Want me to do the thing you always say to do?” Jisung sounded nervous as he asked, meaning he did not want to do the thing. That thing was calling Lia to come in and take care of it.

Suffice to say, she’s a little messy when it comes to us having an issue.

“What does he look like?”

“Kinda hot? Nice clothes. Young.”

Must be the guy from Sunny Chick Bakery we saw earlier, “Very well. Let him know I am on my way.”

“Wait, you sure you wanna come in, boss? He gives hella bad vibes,” Jisung never could hold his tongue, “Maybe you should bring Yeji or Hongjoong with you, I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

Bless his heart, “It’s fine, I’ll be on my way.”

I hung up before he could say more then sent a text to Yeji to pull around the car. I could feel Hongjoong’s intense gaze on me.

“Leaving before I dismiss you?” Hongjoong spoke like it was a threat but the grin on his face was teasing.

“And what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he leaned back in his chair, twisting a pen around his finger, “I heard something about a man there to see you. A romantic man, Estela?”

“None of your business, Joongie.”

“You’ve been my business for as long as I want to remember.”

I rolled my eyes at that, “You could have left once my father died.”

“And leave my business to run itself into the ground?” his earring chains hit his cheek as he shook his head, the jingling sound radiating through the room, “As painful as you are, come around more, yeah? Not just for business meetings.”

“I’ll try.”

“She will,” Yeji walked in then and Hongjoong smirked at her. They always got along way too well for my liking, “Next time, plan a party though. I wish to have fun before I die, Kim.”

“You got it, Hwang,” Hongjoong giggled before standing to lead us both out of his home. Well, my home. It was my family’s mafia house that he and a bunch of the other heads and their assistants, including Yeji, lived in.

By the time I reached the flower shop, it was less than an hour before closing. Jisung was already running around trying to finish all his nighttime tasks. This all usually consisted of preparing tomorrow’s orders, cleaning, and pruning as needed. When he heard the door ring as I entered, his wide eyes looked at me first as if I caught him with a mouth full of cookies. 

Which I have before. 

“Estela!” Jisung waved as I walked in, “You’re later than usual today.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no!” He quickly waved his hands, “You just always work the full Monday.”

“Had some family business to attend to.”

“Again? God, I can’t believe you take care of your grandmother all alone.”

My grandmother died when I was seven in a raid, but Jisung didn’t need to know that. 

“Where’s this mystery man?”

“Apparently his name is Taecyeon.”

“No last name?”

He shrugged, “That’s all he gave me.”

Curiouser and curiouser. Color me intrigued, “Well, where is he?”

“Outback in the nursery. Wanted to see our different cherry trees apparently.”

I went outback. The store wasn’t huge or extravagant but it was ideal and able to hold everything we needed neatly. It was cleanly designed with glossy white fixtures and rose gold accents. Plants bloomed and flourished throughout. We had enough space to even allow a customer service aspect of a full nursery for bigger products or the ones that needed full sun. This was where I found the aforementioned Taecyeon, carefully reaching out to a mini Japanese maple. 

“A full Japanese maple can grow to 25 feet in height,” I told him, Taecyeon turning to me as if I didn’t approach him silently. Like he already knew I was there. He simply blinked and hummed in response before standing up straight. The mask was still covering his face and this time he was wearing dark-framed glasses. 

“I don’t know much about plants,” Taecyeon spoke as if whatever he said was just fact. No room for much in terms of arguments. 

“We have gardening classes once a month if that’s something you’re interested in?”

“Why did you give me your card?”

“Oh? No hesitation huh?”

Taecyeon just raised an eyebrow. I noticed again how intense his gaze was. Though sparkly, it was like a roughly cut diamond, not the ones made for rings but the ones made for knife handles. 

“You’re cute. I like beautiful men,” I think he would appreciate the honest truth. The hum of approval he gave proved it just as well. 

It wasn’t the truth but how could he know that? 

“Well, I appreciate the compliment.”

“I’m full of more if needed.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

I faked a giggle at that. Who knows if Taecyeon could see through me. If he did, he didn’t call me out on it. 

“What made you open a botanical shop?”

“I like flowers?” I giggled genuinely that time, I didn’t know how to answer at all. 

“Did you go to school for it?”

“Sure.” Does a couple of online courses and a year in France working under a landscaper through boarding school count?

“Do you know anything about landscaping?”

“Surprisingly, yes!”

“How much to hire you?”

Well. That wasn’t expected. This may be a lot easier than I thought, “I’d have to do a quote. How big the area is and what you want versus what is needed?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“Now I am.”

“I’ll send a car to pick you up from here at noon?”

“I don’t even think I know your name, sir.”

“What did your employee tell you?”

“Taecyeon.”

“Call me that, you can call me Tae, some friends call me Lee.”

I tried not to think too much about that sentence, “Lee Taecyeon?”

“Sure,” he smiled but it was one of those smiles that glimmered a little too well, showing just enough of his teeth without giving too much. A charmer of a smile.

“Your name that much of a secret that now you’re confusing me? Saying ‘sure’ isn’t an answer.”

Taecyeon had the nerve to look at least a bit bashful at that, “I like keeping pretty girls on their toes.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kim Seungmin sighed into his cup of coffee. Jongho brought it to him over an hour ago and he was only just now drinking it, the drink already cold. It was way past clocking out time and Seungmin hated working overtime. The only thing he hated more was he still had no leads on the Red Thunder. 

The Red Thunder Mafia seemed to have popped up out of nowhere. They didn’t hint at their rise. It was as if Seungmin blinked and suddenly there was another major power in the city. The leader of Red Thunder was just as much of an enigma, no one ever saw him or saw his face in full. Yet, you knew he was present. 

At first, there wasn’t much to worry about when it came to this new mafia, they weren’t like the other ones in town, for sure nothing like Kim Hongjoong’s Syndicate. Instead, they seemed calm, practiced, as if nothing could touch them. Then, the city elections happened. It was small at first, a politician that was a heavy rival for an already long-standing congressman would go missing. Maybe a couple of community heads that tried to change the city for the better would suddenly fall ill or move to a new state out of nowhere. Then some detectives would disappear. Go on missions and wouldn’t return for months. If they did come back, they were a different person, a new personality to match the new scars and bruises.  Soon, less and less of the police force looked into the Red Thunder. Great for them because as the elections continued, the main opponent for Mayor Park suddenly found themselves dead at dinner. One day, they were laughing, drinking, and celebrating a win in the debates. The next? Passed out at the family dinner table, wine spilling onto the ground while their wife and children screamed. 

It wasn’t personal for him, but justice did not have to be personal for Kim Seungmin to want it. 

“Hey, Seungmin,” Jongho opened the door to Seungmin’s office, not bothering to knock. He never did, which bothered Seungmin, yes, but Jongho made up for it with his great work ethic each time.

“Yes?”

“Another body was found at one of Red Thunder’s dumpsites,” Jongho said, passing over a file. 

One look inside and Seungmin sighed. The body had the usual style of the Red Thunder’s leader. The throat was wide open in a curved smile almost, a very stylistic approach. One that made it known when he killed someone to the detective. Seungmin sighed down at the photograph.

“The victim went by the name Daniel and was a part of a lower-level gang. Apparently, that gang has had it out for Red Thunder ever since they forcibly took over one of the ports.”

“You think he attempted to murder their leader and paid the price?”

“It looks like it,” Jongho said, looking over the file again. His eyebrow knit in worry as he looked over it, “The body was in their dump site, but usually people of this gang wear a specific necklace.”

“So?”

“No necklace was found in the victim’s items.”

“Nowhere near?” Jongho nodded his affirmation.

“Interesting,” Seungmin thought about it for a moment. The wheels in his head were turning faster than he anticipated.

“The chief also wants me to tell you to drop the case and focus on all your other ones.”

“You and I both know I already finished all my assigned cases.”

“I wouldn’t be a good partner if I didn’t,” Jongho turned to leave before stopping at the door, “Listen, don’t get yourself killed trying to find out the inner workings of this mafia. They seem way too ahead of us at every curve and I am not too convinced that half of our department is not in their pockets. It’s dangerous, Seungmin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jongho left Seungmin to his thoughts as he added the newfound body to his ever-growing binder on the Red Thunder.

Maybe it was time for a new approach.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I can’t believe he hired a landscaper without telling me,” the gorgeous man in front of me shook his head quickly, a bunch of black hair escaping the neatly gelled down style he seemed to have kept it in. He was way taller than Chan or ‘Taecyeon’ and was nicely dressed in an all-black suit that looked like it was made of some Italian fabric. His hands were covered in a smooth leather as he twirled a phone in his hands.  His full, pretty pink lips were made up into a sneer and his eyes were damn near staring into my soul.

I tried to keep the sweet girl attitude but the look of disgust on this man’s face was getting to me. Glaring would come way too easy if he kept talking.

“When does he ever tell you what he’s doing?” that dragged my attention over to the absolutely beautiful woman next to him. She was a bit taller than me with wavy black hair that reached her shoulders. She was dressed similarly formal as the other man but she wore a white button-up paired with a pinstripe vest and pants. Her boots looked heavy and her hands were clean of everything except two brass knuckles on both hands. The vest held a singular broach on it, a red lightning bolt chained to a smaller figure of what looked like a wasp. 

If I didn’t already know she was a part of the mafia, she gave it away too easily.

“What are you doing here, Ryujin?” the man turned to the girl and she shrugged.

Ryujin chuckled, looking at me as if I was an object, not an actual living being in front of her, “Wanted to see what kind of person our fearless leader invites into his home. I bet Yunho is glad to be off of grass cutting duty.”

“She hasn’t got the job yet. Inform Yunho not to get too excited.”

“I already am excited!” A large man bustled in through the front door. I don’t think this one got the ‘wear a suit’ notice like the others had. He dressed more like he was ready to join some boy band than anything. The tall man, Yunho, was dressed in baggy blue jeans, a large white top, and a big puffy jacket that had way too many patches to count. He had on this bucket hat that was low on his face, covering most of it. 

He was also the first one of them who looked at me like I was an actual person.

“Hi, you must be Estela. I’m Yunho, it’s nice to meet you,” he held out a hand for me to take and I shook it, noticing how his hands were covered in bruises, some fresher than others.

I suppose a normal girl wouldn’t know off rip that these were all ‘Taecyeon’s’ subordinates in his mafia, “Wow, it looks like he has a lot of friends. I am Estela, it’s great to meet you all.”

“Aren’t you cute?” Ryujin cooed, moving to touch my face before I backed away, “Come on, Seonghwa, let’s keep her.”

Ryujin kind of reminded me of Lia with that sentence. Both were alike in the way that when they first saw me, decided to snatch me up right then and there. I was way younger when Lia first saw me, sitting next to my father during a meeting but that didn’t stop the girl from coming up to me after and practically begging me to follow her into her bedroom.

Choi Lia would also not like me letting another woman lay claim to what she deemed ‘hers’. No matter how many times I told her I wasn’t.

I’d rather be dead than belong to anyone.

‘Taecyeon’s’ house was quaint to say the least. Decorated nicely with that I could tell were authentic paintings and bigger than the usual home of a regular person. The house resided on an acre of land so the landscaping job would be big if I were actually planning to do it as a normal landscaper would.

Jeongin’s latest technological design seemed to be weighing in my pocket. Multiple, small black recorders were in my pocket, ready to be placed all around the property. There was no guarantee I would get a chance like this again, and I needed to act on it.

“She’s a person, Ryujin,” the first guy, Seonghwa, shook his head, exhaustion covering his features. More often than not, he reminded me of Yeji and her ever-growing exhaustion. As if just being alive was tiring to them.

“That I am!” I said, forcing a huge smile onto my face, “I am also a person who would like to get started on my work, if I can?”

“Give it a second, I’m waiting on someone to give you a tour of the property like the Boss suggested,” Seonghwa said looking down at his phone, “He apparently doesn’t want me to do it.”

“I can!” Ryujin raised an arm quickly, “I’m not busy right now. I would certainly enjoy the opportunity to escort this pretty thing around.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “I can do it, Mingi is still looking at his current patient anyway before we head home.”

That sentence caught my interest. Mingi. Song Mingi? Our doctor, huh? I was already well aware of the fact that Mingi worked with other mafias. We allowed him to, it’s not like the man knew any of our secrets. Hell, he didn’t even know that I was the leader, just thought I was another mafia whore that got caught in the mix of violence too many times to count. Of course, we knew Song Mingi’s entire life story. Every move he made was under our radar, especially when we found out he got married a year back to a Yunho. Seems like the name just got a face. 

Fuck, that also means I have to avoid Mingi while he is here.

Seonghwa sighed heavily as he stared at his phone, “I suppose that is fine since Lee isn’t answering and neither is Chris. Just as well, Yunho, you know where and where not to take them, get them familiar with where you keep tools if needed. Miss Estela is just using today to quote a price, correct?”

He still barely acknowledged my existence past this. I nodded and Seonghwa kept talking. Something about him made me feel inconsequential.

As Yunho took me around the property, I discreetly placed bug after bug in the around as much as I could. I wish this tour included indoors because I am sure the most gets done there. The best I could do is place one in the bathroom and one on a painting in the mudroom. A couple of the bugs laid in their garage port too. Hopefully, Jeongin could find out something that way.

“I hope this tour was helpful to you in some way,” Yunho walked us back up to the front of the property where my car sat waiting. It was rare days where I drove myself around but it was better on certain days like this one. The matte black SUV sitting idly in the driveway as Yunho walked me to it.

“It was, I think I came up with a quote. Will you relay it to Mr. Lee for me?” I informed him, writing the amount on one of the business cards I kept in my pocket.

“I will be sure to let him know,” Yunho smiled and I had an inkling of an idea that his smile was reminiscent of a sunray. He didn’t smile like everyone else in this business, his smile reached his eyes and filled his face euphorically. Yunho was a genuine person, “It was nice to meet you, Miss Estela.”

“You as well! You’re too sweet,” I smiled back, this time genuinely and I meant it. It was hard not to smile in Yunho’s presence. He made you feel comfortable so easily, way too easily.

I’ll have Jeongin keep an eye out on him too.

“Estela?” We both whipped our heads around to see the good doctor leaving the Lee Residence, Lee himself following him. Song Mingi looked confused but who could blame him. He’s never seen me without Lia or Hongjoong so I’m sure he was more than a little worried, especially seeing me with his husband. 

“You know her, love?” Yunho asked but it was ‘Taecyeon’ or Lee, god what do I call this man, who looked as if he questioned it more.

“Yes,” Mingi said with a shrug. “Patient/Doctor confidentiality, babe. Plus, she was the one who provided the flowers for our wedding.”

Oh yeah, I did do that. It was the least I could do when Mingi worked day and night attending to my crew. But, he didn’t know that.

“Really?” If it was possible, Yunho’s smile was even brighter as he turned to me again, “Those arrangements were so beautiful, I ended up saving so many of them. Thank you so much.”

Yunho bowed at that and Lee scoffed at that. Mingi gave him a scathing look, one I didn’t think the kind doctor was capable of. It was interesting seeing this side of him, one so controlled by love.

“Yunho, you are free to take your leave,” Lee “Taecyeon” called out as the pair came closer, “I wanted to discuss some things with Miss Estela before she went off.”

“Yes, sir,” the husbands left without a further word, leaving me alone in the mafia leader’s presence.

“I’m sure you’ve already picked up on just how confidential this landscaping job is,” his smile was reassuring but cold, “My crew isn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Maybe if I was dumber.”

“Yet, you didn’t run off? Why is that?”

I suppose a regular girl would have been intimidated by them and run off. I’ll have to keep that noted for next time, “I didn’t say I was smart either.”

I barely knew the man in front of me but his laugh was almost contagious. Strong as he threw his head back and cackled happily. He didn’t bother covering the laugh or not feeling it entirely. It was something to admire.

“Have you ate lunch yet?” he said when he sobered up from laughing.

“It’s like 5 in the evening.”

“Let me make dinner for you then,” he said, leading me into his home again, almost giving me no choice in the matter. 

His hands were warm as they grabbed mine, dragging me behind him. They didn’t engulf mine but our hands were the same size. This proximity allowed me to get a proper idea of how sweet he smelled. Egyptian musk and amber and something else. 

Something sweet.

He told me to call him Lee. Something about how we’re friends now that he has officially hired me. I hate this name change guessing game. Regardless, Lee was a pretty competent cook, making a traditional meal for us to enjoy. He sat me at one of his  island stools that overlooked the kitchen. I got to see him move back and forth in the kitchen, humming every now and again as he cooked. I resigned myself to playing around on my phone as I waited, having already bugged the room as we entered. Jeongin would be proud. I shot out a quick text to tell him the entire place was bugged. 

Yang Jeongin replied with some meme.

“How much do you like spicy?” Lee asked me, looking up with a sweet smile as held a bottle over the food hesitantly. He waited patiently for the answer.

“I prefer things that cause me pain,” I replied without thinking, a funny joke that would have caused Hongjoong to agree or Changbin to jokingly reply offering to cause the pain. Lee on the other hand looked as if he swallowed a frog, slowly taking a gulp before pouring the bottle into whatever he was making.

“I also like causing pain,” after a couple of silent moments, he replied with that and I chuckled.

“Kinky, Lee,” I joked and his eyes cut to me, panther like. As if he could pounce at any moment. The thought alone had me on edge, whether in caution or the subtle flirting, I didn’t know anymore.

Even I had to admit how amazingly gorgeous Lee was. His face was absolutely, soul-wrenchingly beautiful. A strong look that made you keep looking and looking. Pretty pink pouty lips with this perfectly angular nose and jawline. High cheekbones that cradled his annoyingly beautiful face. His eyes were cunning and clever but the glow of him didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Here, taste this,” Lee held a spoon out to my mouth, gently cradling a hand underneath the ladle as not to cause any drips. It drug my attention back down to his hands and that weird ring he wore on his finger.

The second I slightly opened my mouth, Lee’s eyes were on mine, watching my mouth encapsulate the spoon. A sweetly pink tongue darted out to wet his lips while I tasted whatever concoction he had made. His eyes were rapt on mine as he watched and all I felt was pliable underneath his gaze. Strong and sensual.

Lee’s eyes strayed to my mouth again. I’m not one to provoke but I do like to entice. Lowering my gaze slowly, making sure Lee was watching as I darted out a tongue, opening my mouth a bit more. My tongue cleaned off the spoon while he watched, his eyes never leaving my mouth. Once the spoon was completely clean, I hummed softly as I stepped back, gingerly taking a finger to rub any remnants off my lips.

“It tastes good.”

Lee’s eyes stayed stuck on my mouth. The spoon clattering onto the counter as the other hand grabbed my wrist, preventing me from stepping back to far. He walked closer to me, instead of pulling me into him. Lee was the one who tipped my head forward to stare into my eyes without a glance at anything else in this room. I heard a small bubble burst as the souce seemed to roll to a boil but the thought was quickly replaced by Lee taking a knuckle and holding my head level to his.

“Do you mind if I taste?” the gentle voice was like harsh winds followed by a cool breeze as he watched my reaction.

I breathed out softly. Never before have I been touched in a way that wasn’t complete swift moves, this was smooth, gentle, “You should always taste what you make.”

Lee’s lips felt so soft over mine. A strong, hand cradled my jaw, his thumb right over my chin as he pulled my head closer. Another hand came over my shoulder, pressing me closer into the kitchen wall as he kissed me. One of his legs, those strong beautiful thighs, came between my legs. My hands seemed to move on their own, pulling him closer and our bodies together. 

“Seems you’re forgetting about the food,” I breathed out the second he let me up for breath and Lee rolled his eyes.

“I wanted to taste the sauce, seems like you enjoyed it,” his tongue darted out aga

[9.06 pm] Chan watched you leave, tears in his eyes, while you took your belongings and pieces of his heart and closed the door behind you. He regretted ever laying his hands on another woman, but he knew the moment you found out he’d lost you forever.

too late - kim seungmin

pairing -> kim seungmin x reader

summary -> there’s nothing worse than falling for your best friend, is there? Add him moving away to the mix.

word count -> 2.5k

genre -> friends to lovers!au, angst

warnings -> mutual pining, both of you are absolute dumbasses about your feelings at first but very painfully obvious now, nothing else.

past.

“You’re my past, my present, and i hope, i awfully hope you’ll be my future,”

You finish and look up at Seungmin, he holds his breath and his face gradually twists into one of those smiles that make your heart feel at ease. And he feels the same, it’s right in his eyes as he holds out your hand –

And you open your eyes to yourself, hair unkempt and in front of the mirror. You were practicing confessing to your best friend and a version of you that was not completely a fool in love rolled its eyes at you, this was so typical, falling for your best friend, fantasizing about him feeling the same, it was all so cliche.

But it went away as you shook your head, there’s nothing wrong in it.

In about a few hours, all your friends would come over, including seungmin for a casual hangout and normally you would be scrolling instagram until seungmin came and reminded you what time it was. 

This was just how every weekend of yours went by.

But today instead of the usual relief in your senses that you could finally relax after a hectic week, a nervous fiddling sensation took over you as you anticipated that the clock hit the 5:00 pm mark quickly. 

present.

You sit on seungmin’s bed fiddling with the handle of his bag, touching along the rough surface of it. You’re shocked you still have tears in you, given the amount you’ve cried as the realization of it all settled in you, and blink them away. You were going to be okay, besides you can’t afford to cry in front of Seungmin, you can’t make him weak, it’s already going to be so hard for him. 

As you scratch off a spare piece of dirt from the bag, you can’t believe it gets to stay with seungmin and you don’t. So silly. 

you think back to that day again, it was july, early july, yes. You remember how your heart was practically jumping out of your throat as you saw him.

And it was Han who found out, it was one of the gatherings you all kept at the time, you planned it at yours this time, wanting to confess while cleaning up or when the rest of them are gone because it was almost always this way; they’d come over and have fun, watch movies but at the end of the day only your best friend would stick around to clean up or vice versa if it was at his. It often ended in a sleepover with you both being so tired that you’d fall asleep right about just anywhere. 

Back to Han, he wanted a pen for your cousin, who was visiting at the time, to write down her number and he knew that being the nerd he was, seungmin would have a pen and paper with him. The movie was paused for a quick bathroom break for seungmin when your cousin had finally given into the han’s shameless flirting and had accepted to give her number. Han had discovered the acceptance letter then, perched between his books, not in an intention of hiding, almost as if he wanted it to be discovered. 

A dark blue envelope with a huge “to, mr. kim seungmin” written in professional handwriting. And when seungmin came back, his friend looked at him with a small smile, clearly offended that his friend didn’t tell him, but he still got over that quickly and hugged him tight, he was so proud of him.

Meanwhile seungmin had looked to you, and while you knew seungmin had an interest in going abroad, you didn’t actually quite believe it till that moment. And you had comforted him, if that’s what made him happy then he should obviously go for it. 

And he let out a sigh in relief.

But time had stopped for you, what was supposed to be something special had ended tragically and you felt pain sear through your heart slowly, taking over your body slowly. 

But deep down you both knew that even though you told him that it was okay, it wasn’t quite the case. He could sense the disappointment you had in him in the next few days in the form of distance you gave him, the silent treatment.

They only stopped when he confronted you about it, and you apologised and confessed to him, who would like their best friend moving away?

To which he had told you it’d be okay, he’ll stay in touch and be back before you know it.

Thinking about him, he comes out of the bathroom with his hair moist and skin glossy. He’s, unfortunately, dressed, as the tshirt sticks to his obviously wet torso. You can almost see the wheels in his brain spinning as he makes sure he’s taken everything and has planned everything. As he looks at you, he shoots you a smile. 

And it pains him more than anything in this world to do it, because he chose this, he shouldn’t be regretting it, he shouldn’t be hiding the fact that he isn’t happy, from you; but he doesn’t want you asking the reason behind it, because clearly he was very happy about his admission letter when it came in 2 months ago. 

But it was before. It was before the realization that hit him on the head suddenly and caught him off guard that he’s in love with his best friend. And he thought it’d go away, he’d ignore it and that would be it. But as the days passed and the time he’d have to spend away from you came closer, he wished on every shooting star in the world for it to be cancelled, some unexpected thing to pop up, anything.

He can’t tell you this obviously, because as of now, it’s concrete he’s going and if you even reciprocate a proportion of his feelings, you’d be hurt and he did not want it. 

past.

The screen had gone black, leaving the dark room in silence in its wake. And the credits began rolling on the screen. Some trashy ost plays in the background and as seungmin reaches for the remote on the table, a question lights up your brain.

 ‘what if he doesn’t feel the same?‘ 

You’re 14, and you don’t see a problem with being in love with your best friend except one, which might just be the downfall of the very feeling.

Oh wait, no, there’s another, 'what if he does feel the same, but you both don’t work out?’ that’d automatically be a crash for a great friendship.

And the movie which revolved around two best friends trying to navigate problems while being with each other and just ending up together gave you hope, you wouldn’t lie, but you also knew real life was nothing like a movie. 

So you tried to get your answer slyly, lying on your back on the sofa of seungmin’s basement, you watched him as he wrapped up the stuff that was littered around, spare pieces of popcorn, wrappers from packets of chips, to get ready to sleep. 

As he tried finding them all, you stretched your hand, and looked at the ceiling, and as nonchalantly as possible - 

“Minnie, did you like the movie?”

“Uh huh,” 

“The plot?”

“Kinda?” he said, still not looking up from his work. 

“Do you think best friends can end up as lovers?” dropped the bomb. 

“I-, well,” he looked up and you turned to him, the tension in the air was thicker than it had ever been. 

“It depends on the person,” and for a moment you think, he might confess or if he doesn’t you have the urge to, but -

“And besides that was a movie, y/n, a movie.”

He knows, now, or has a hunch about what you were trying to tell him.

present.

Maybe if he had been a little more intelligent he would have realized it then and he wouldn’t be here in this ordeal. 

And even though all of the articles he found on long distance relationships were positive, he didn’t wanna do that. It was too much longing. 

So he was just going to have to leave and try to forget you, because in this case he can’t have you return his feelings. Just no, he doesn’t know how he can leave after that. 

He glanced at you, trying to look around the room for things he could possibly need but have forgotten. 

And goddamn is he in love with you. 

The reality hits you once more as you’re taking the bags downstairs, he’s leaving, he’s taking all of your happiness with him, he’s taking away the bracelet you made him when you were 7 but you’re sure it’d be forgotten. He checks the time on his watch, “3:00 pm.” he announces, his flight is in 3 hours, and in 3 hours your relationship, your friendship will be a thing of the past. 

present.

You don’t believe it’ll remain the same even after he promises you with a comforting smile everytime you bring it up. 

His parents give you a sympathetic look as you shoot them a smile; it’s going to be fine, his mother had told you. “You can come visit when you miss him.” and you’d rather bite your own knee then visit this house where you spent most of your childhood and all of your teenage years without the boy who made it alive. 

Seungmin sees you zoning out and it makes him wanna rip apart his admission letter, tear away the suitcases and stay here forever. But he takes one look at his watch which draws closer to his departure and recounts if he has everything for the umpteenth time. 

And you wanted to break down all over again as you saw the bags piled over near the door where you’d run in together during summer hoping your popsicles don’t melt until you can slurp and look into the mirror and see the color on your tongues, secretly hoping what the two colours would look if mixed; 

The original plan was for you to see him off at the house itself; but his parents urge you to come to the airport and you pick at your sweater, thinking of ways to stop your tears. And even Seungmin insists you tag along, he doesn’t even want to waste a minute of being with you. 

and you bury your upset inside deeper; you need to keep your friend strong.

a few of your common friends drop by as his father loads the luggage in the back of his car; the sun is a pretty shade of orange mixed with pink, a little dull and depressed due to its defeat to the moon in a few hours.

you think about how you’ll keep on replaying this evening over and over again for nights to come. thinking about something you could have said to make the pain go away because feelings weigh down on you, threaten to crush you apart when you don’t let them out and that was exactly what was going on with the both of you.

Han, as he completed talking to his friend, walked over to you sitting on the porch, and took a seat there. 

“are you okay?” he asks in a whisper. “i mean your best friend is going away,” 

he emphasises his ‘best friend’ a little too much to be in a normal way and you narrow your eyes at him.

“fuck you,” you roll your eyes playfully and laughs as well. it was an unspoken thing between you two, he knew you liked seungmin but he kept his mouth shut and you knew that he did.

“but for real though,” his expressions transition to serious after he’s done laughing. “are you going to tell him or not?”

“no,” you deadpan. 

“why? it’s so fucking obvious he likes you!” he groans. 

“I don’t know, han. firstly i’m not even sure he likes me and second, even if he does, we’re not guaranteed to work long distance so it’s better if he finds someone else there and we’ll see it from there if or when he’s back.”

“you’re dumb.”

you shoot him a grin, “i know.”

later, you’re in the car, you’re going over something suitable to say, because the atmosphere is tense. his parents are getting as upset as you as their only son is about to leave. 

and seungmin; seungmin feels like he could start bawling his eyes out anywhere, he didn’t want to leave his world, his home.

but it was his choice and now he had to own up to it.

And finally about two hours later, he’s glancing at his city, his parents and his world, all for the last time. He wants to turn back time and never ever write the essay that got him in here in the first place, but it’s impossible. 

“We’ll go get some snacks for you?” His parents sense the need for privacy and excuse themselves. Meanwhile you try to not cry your very existence out.

“so,” he turns back. you’re on the boarding gate almost, after this, it can be almost a year when you see him again, and you //know//, you just know you both won’t be the same as now. 

“I didn’t think you’d come actually,” 

“to the airport?”

“to see me off, i know you’re not happy with my decision.”

And you don’t deny it; no more playful bantering.

“I mean we did plan to go to a college near us, but well things change and I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye.’’

and you hug your best friend. 

you don’t want him to go, you want to confess to him, make him regret taking this decision. but as much as you loved him, he loved his dreams.

and as for you, seeing him content would be enough.

and so, after his parents return and his mother sniffles a little, he leaves.

 he promises he’ll stay in touch, give you updates, a dorm tour, and you give him a day or two before he gets busy. and you don’t blame him, you accept it and you move on.

it is hard on the first night, you toss and turn, about to text seungmin to let him know you can’t sleep and to possibly sneak out and sit on the bench outside your house just staring up at the sky. but as you pick up your phone you realize that he’s not coming. 

so it sucks but you hug your pillow and try to forget it. but ended up wetting with the constant flow of your tears. 

you move on with your life, your classes, new friends, a whole new kind of life without your best friend.

but then his face turns into a small icon you see on instagram putting up stories of the new cafes he visits and the new people he meets.

and he contacts you first, a lot, updates you, facetimes you.

and soon, seungmin is just a ghost of your past.

Bonus: Changbin x Minha

- skz version

:

Han Jisung x YN

Where Jisung meets Y/N during the summer and they fall in love…

Genre: Fluff/Grease!AU/College!AU/Tiny Angst

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ✨ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ✨ɴᴇxᴛ

тαg ℓιѕт (please send me an ask or dm me if you want to be on the tag list uwu)

@wonwoosimp​​@bleachhoney​@wooxyjin​@sassystay-bunny​@jaehyunicecream@hanniiesuckle17@hanstagrams@taehyunswifey@multistan-net

creatures of curiosity

the prince of the sea ; hyunjin | series masterlist

word count: 5.2k

warnings: angst, fluff, fantasy au, themes of horror (no gore, just general feeling of unease), lowkey stockholm syndrome, hyunjin is uncomfortably very full on, implied sex, maybe don’t read if you have thalassophobia

a/n: this ended up much longer than i anticipated but it’s finally done!!! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ;___;

taglist:@screaming-wea-sel@drrramaaaqweeen@simjaeyunspinkytoe@frozenpeasworld@lovhyunj@lcvryu@yoyeolears@lix-ables@koovvie@hwnghyvnjn@lixtokki

The red sails above tremble under the whistling wind, a stark contrast to the gloomy grey skies. Undecided rain threatens to fall at any moment as the ship creaks and groans in distaste for the salty waters it safeguards you from. Truthfully, you had only agreed to venture on this expedition under the guise that it would be short and three weeks into it, you’re no closer to your destination. The captain had made sure that you were accommodated of course, you have your own private quarters adorned with silken sheets and gorgeous shining silverware; so not all is bad. Still, you’re what the locals dub “a landwalker” and for good reason; you would much prefer solid ground to the volatile waters.

Now the heavens pour open, a bad omen, rain begins to lash against your skin like tiny knives and you’re painfully aware of the entire crew’s eyes boring into your skull. You’d heard them protest as you boarded, some even spat at the ground as you passed but you held your head high and made your way to the captain, maps in hand and ready to assist whenever needed. 

“Bad luck to have a woman on board,” it’s the first time a crew member dared speak to you, or rather, about you in this case. You raise an eyebrow as he stares, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “‘Specially in these waters.” 

“And why is that?” you quiz, mimicking his stance, “Blatant sexism or just plain stupidity?” 

Your remark earns some jeers from onlooking crewmen, one even pats you on the back. The first man shakes his head with a grimace. 

“Come on lass, you’re telling me you haven’t heard the tales?” 

Of course you are aware of the stories, you remember your Father reading you fables of the Prince of the Sea, an eternally woeful being whose spilled tears crafted the very ocean you sail upon. It’s said that he mourns the death of his beloved and is in search of anew. That his elegy of sorrow enchants whomever’s ears it happens to fall upon, luring them to their untimely demise. As a child you felt sorry for the Prince, losing his betrothed and while mourning being pestered by unwanted ships in his realm. Now as an adult, you see the tales for exactly what they are, propaganda to prevent women from sailing the seas

“You need not concern me with your stories,” you reply with a scoff, “Especially not old wives tales crafted to fuel your sexist agenda.”

“Made up stories, eh?” he says through gritted teeth, “Ships go missin’ with women on ‘em far too much to be coincidence.”

“Then I suggest you keep your eyes open for trouble instead of wasting my time.”

You’re thankful when he retreats, mumbling what you can only imagine to be curses under his breath. It need not concern you, all that matters to you at this moment is tracking your whereabouts and leading the crew to their destination. Rain continues to fall, your hair begins to drip at the ends as you wipe the drops from your compass. The dial spins for a moment before comfortably setting on the east.

It’s unusually welcoming when night falls, the crew’s boisterous clamouring quietens and the final shanty has been sung. The deluge had finally subsided too, replaced by a vista of stars; you divine them, tracing the shapes of latent constellations. The ship sways with the tide, rocking the crew to a gentle sleep and leaving you almost completely alone, save for a few nocturnal sailors who chug rum like it’s water. They’d fall into an alcohol induced slumber soon enough. You watch the waves as they languidly ebb and flow against the hull and suddenly you’re homesick; longing to see your friends and family again. It has been longer than anticipated and will be longer still; you begin to wonder if they’re worried. The thoughts consume you and for a brief lapse in judgement, you consider joining the drunken sea dogs who are now passed out on deck. You shake your head and chuckle at their misfortune, unbeknownst to your own.

Fog begins to rapidly roll in seemingly from nowhere and at once your vision deteriorates. Through the thick clouds, you call out to someone — anyone, yet no one heeds your call. Instead, a haunting melody echoes around you, an otherworldly eerie requiem of sorrow that lurches your heart. You can’t control your sobbing, the tears flood from your eyes like waterfalls and your gut wrenches as the song grows closer and louder. Now, you can see the crew — some crashing into each other, some gasping for air, some crying uncontrollably and some screaming. They wail, they beg for the reaper to take them. And still you’re crying, weeping as you navigate through the mist to find the Captain. It’s futile, the density of the fog proving to be too much. Below you, the ship screams in agony; wood snapping and metal clanging and you feel the hull you peacefully watched not long ago be torn apart. There’s nothing you can do; you are at the mercy of the sea now and you simply pray. Pray that somehow you might survive and return to your family and friends unscatched.

The darkness steals that dream.

*************

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been out. A minute? A day? Time eludes you. You blink your eyes, squinting to adjust to your new surroundings and you’re taken aback. The room is extravagant, home to a four poster bed that almost takes up the entire space. On the walls are antiquated paintings, fitted with threads of golden embellishments that glint and sparkle. Below them, lies an immaculately tidy, pure white vanity table — adorned with opulent gems and jewels and a full oval mirror. Wherever you were, the host did not spare the details of your accommodation. 

You decide to investigate, rummaging through drawers and cabinets to find someclue to your whereabouts. As you approach the door to the room, the faint smell of dew tickles your nose and it reminds you that your clothes are damp. Or, they’re supposed to be. When you look down, you’re surprised to find your attire to be drastically different; a long, pearl nightdress drapes over your figure. Now you’re panic stricken, knowing someone had changed your clothing coupled with the ignorance of your whereabouts proving too much for you. 

Right as you’re about to beseech for aid, you hear it; the same chilling verses from the ship, echoing throughout the halls of wherever you are. Curiosity gets the better of you, your fingers twist the golden doorknob and you venture outside the confines of the room; warily following the music to its source. Through winding corridors and narrow passages until finally you find it. 

In the centre of the room sits a grand piano but your eyes merely gloss over it. Instead, they focus on the massive window that touches both the ceiling and the floors; however, it’s the view that truly catches your attention. Through the glass lies a forest inundated by the sea, the sunlight above struggles to penetrate through the dense grouping of kelp trapped in the muted expanse. It’s astonishing, it’s magical and it confirms your location in an instant. Your eyes slowly return to the piano and you finally see the fabled Prince of the Sea, fingers ghosting over the keys in his haunting composition.

Your first reaction is to panic, your eyes dart around the room in search of somewhere to run, somewhere to hideas your face turns a chalky white, drained of all life. Your eyes blur as tears begin to gush from them and fear tugs at your soul. You’re too young to die, there’s so much you haven’t done. The faces of your friends, of your family flash in spectacular colours in your mind as your legs give way beneath you and you fall to your knees in anguish. 

“Please, do not be afraid.” A voice, so soft and gentle it rips you from the maddened terror momentarily. Of course, it could only belong to him; such a melodic tone from such a frightening being; it doesn’t make sense in your head. “You’re safe.”

“Safe?” You repeat, wiping the tears from your eyes and finally meeting his gaze; glacial blue eyes that peer into the darkest reaches of your soul yet the warmest smile you’d ever laid eyes upon. His golden hair is flattened against his cheeks, wet as though fresh from the rain. “You’re not going to hurt me?”

“Hurt you?” His brow furrows and he genuinely sounds offended, enough so to manifest some guilt within yourself. “You have given me no reason to.”

The guilt dissipates and fear creeps back up your throat. “Ah,” is all you can choke out,afraid that you mayjust give him a reason. Still, he is ever smiling and even offers a hand to help you up from the ground. Warily, you accept the gesture.

“Hyunjin,” he says as he helps you up, “And you are?”

“Y/n,” you reply, dusting off your knees. “But you’renotjustHyunjin, are you?”

To this, Hyunjin chuckles darkly; striding back over to the great piano and perching himself neatly on the seat. When you don’t move, he beckons you by patting the empty space next to him. Again, you are cautious yet you move swiftly to avoid conflict. “Only those who know me call me by my name,” he says, beginning to coax yet another melody from the instrument, “Others know me as—”

“Prince of the Sea,” you finish his sentence, eyes never wavering from the piano keys. “My Father used to tell tales of you when I was young.”

“And you’re not afraid?” Hyunjin asks with faux curiosity, “How very brave. Or terribly foolish.”

You dare not answer, opting instead to listen to the music that Hyunjin plays so eloquently. For a moment, you both bask in the sombre song; sharing an odd kinship. Hyunjin plays from his soul, the chords reaching deep down into his core and manifesting in an elegy of desperation; of sweet sadness. It feels strangely humbling to hear.

“You are a good listener,” he says when your eyes gently close and you begin humming to the melody, “A trait to be desired.” 

Perhaps he’s correct. Or perhaps civility is a mask for fear.

********

Time seems to stand still in the palace; since sunlight cannot breach the murky waters, you aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in Hyunjin’s domain. For the few hours after your first meeting, you wandered the empty corridors through twists and turns, leaving no stone unturned in this abyssal abode. One particular dark room, stowed deep in the sub reaches intrigued you so, however a lock kept it safe from prying eyes. In the meantime, Hyunjin has been perfectly pleasant towards you, making sure you are eating and drinking well and presenting you with many gifts — knick knacks of sorts, clothing and jewels that even a Queen would envy. You’re acutely aware, of course, just whyhe’s being so kind to you — the stories say as much. You have no intention of staying, your primary goal is to free yourself from his shackles and get back to your friends and family.

It’s one particular day (or at least you thinkit’s day) where Hyunjin requests you wear a very specific dress; one of scarlet velvet and trimmed with obsidian lace. Of course, you comply — fear holds its grip on you tightly and you worry that failure to do so would result in your early expiration. You meet him in an ample room with similar floor to ceiling windows as the great hall, only this room is littered with various sheets, splattered with a rainbow of colours and containers filled to the brim with glossy paint. In the centre of the room, Hyunjin sits patiently across from a black chaise; a worn apron protecting his attire.

“Wow,” he says, head leaning on a hand as he watches you approach, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

It takes you aback and you’re unsure how to respond; losing your composure for just a moment, your cheeks burning almost as bright as your gown. “Thanks,” you say simply with a small bow just in case before setting yourself atop the cushions. “You’re an artist?” 

Hyunjin hums an affirmation, busying himself with architecting his easel and perching a pure white canvas atop it, nodding at a small collection of brushes at his side. “You could say that.”

“And your subject?” You ask warily.

“Sits before me,” he smiles, studying you with the eye of a true virtuoso. “Relax, Y/n. It takes time, you don’t want to be uncomfortable, do you?”

No, you do not.

So you sit there, still and quiet while Hyunjin’s keen eye captures your essence; his brushstrokes are as graceful and delicate as he is — they bewitch you into a trance. Your eyes gently close and you slip slowly into slumber only to be awoken by a gentle glissando. When your eyes flutter open and are met with a hydrous lyre floating gingerly in the air next to Hyunjin, you gasp.

“My apologies,” he says, eyes sternly focusing on the painting, “I did not mean to wake you, only to amuse myself with some music.”

“No, it’s alright,” you reply, now very aware of the silence between you. There’s part of you that wants to get to know him, to know this mythical being that stories were passed down from generation to generation. Someone of that calibre must have lived a riveting life. Though to ask such questions out of the blue would be morbidly rude. “You’re a very capable man,” you hope to ignite some conversation, “A painter, a conjurer, a songster and a musician.” 

“And yet, my social skills are severely lacking.” 

You laugh, truly, and it shocks you. “A comedian too?”

Hyunjin joins you in laughter, chuckling as he continues darting his eyes between you and the canvas. “Truthfully though, I simply have a lot of time on my hands to learn new crafts,” he says once the laughter quietens, “Art, music, languages, literature; trivial pastimes to distract the mind.”

“How profound.”

“So it is true that if you brand yourself an artist people will naturally attach more meaning to the things you say.”

You shake your head as he jests, “Your words dohave meaning, the stories and songs tell of your loneliness.”

To this, Hyunjin gives a poignant smile. 

“I’ve learned every instrument, read every book in my library and speak every language that piques my interest and still, there is a vast emptiness inside me.”

Intense, but you’re glad to finally be addressing the elephant in the room. A sense of sadness falls about Hyunjin, one you hadn’t seen since arriving. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“I understand,” you begin, edging to the end of the chair and clasping your hands neatly in your lap, “Loneliness can be all consuming, especially when it’s born from losing a loved one.”

Hyunjin regards your comment with yet another pitiful smile. “True indeed, sometimes it feels as though my memories are more alive than I.”

The open honesty tugs at the strings of your heart; your compassion is immense and you have the impulse to lunge forward and cradle him in your arms. Hearing stories of his loss, details lost in transference, is one thing; to look him in the eye as his heart pours open for you is another. You’re at a loss for words, solemnly watching as Hyunjin continues his painting.

“Forgive me, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.” He can tell you’re lying.

The conversation comes to a natural stop as you assume the original position for the portrait. Hyunjin quietly hums along to the music as he works, occasionally flipping his blonde locks from his eyes. Briefly, you forget the circumstances of your arrangement; right now you are simply two beings sharing an unspoken moment. 

“Are you excited to see the finished work?” He asks, eyeing you over the canvas, “It’s almost finished.”

“Yes, of course,” you reply, “Although, I’m not entirely sure if I have the look for it.”

This stops him dead in his tracks, his head lops to the side and he eyes you curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Just that paintings are for the rich and the beautiful,” yousay and Hyunjin scoffs.

“My dear, beautyis in the eye of the beholder.”

You blink, unsure of what to say. 

“Come, see for yourself how others see you.”

And so you do, moving swiftly behind Hyunjin and peering over his shoulder to admire his work. Before you, there is someone who resembles you, yet the features you are most self conscious about seem to harmonise. It’s mind boggling and you look down to Hyunjin in disbelief. 

“This…doesn’t feel like me.”

“Because your perception is warped. You see only what is reflected in glass or water.”

Now, Hyunjin turns to face you and you’re eminently aware of just how close the two of you are. It’s the first time that you’ve been so intimate with him and you curse your heart for pounding so much in your chest. 

“You do not see yourself mid laughter or when you have your nose buried in a book,” he continues; eyes locking with yours as he raises his hand, cupping your cheek gently. “Those moments are where true beauty lies.”

How you are so captivated by your captor bewilders you, yet his words penetrate your soul; every inch of your body feels as though it’s set aflame. When you are ever silent, he laughs and retreats his hand.

“Forgive me again if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.”

And you truly meant it this time.

*****************

The next week or so, Hyunjin’s gift giving becomes more frequent; every day you awaken to some form of gift at the edge of your bed, delivered by your own nautical magpie. Never have you been gifted so heavily, you begin to think your thank you’s are losing their meaning. Not only have you been bombarded with gifts, but each time you pass each other by as you explore or as he seats you at the dinner table; there is a veil of passion between you. Neither party acknowledges the faint tinge of desire but both feel it coursing through their veins. You do not yet understand it but you feel drawn to him like a sailor to the open sea. 

Hyunjin had been leaving you alone most of the time, to your surprising dismay; allowing you freedom to spend time in the multitude of recreational rooms that filled the halls. Your most favourite of all being the library where Hyunjin’s vast collection of tomes rivals even the most learned academics in the city. 

“You can read anything here, provided you speak the language.” Hyunjin had told you with a wink.

“And if I don’t, perhaps you wouldn’t mind teaching me.” You had replied.

And so he did. Huddled around a cramped desk, stacked to the heavens with literature and poems in romantic languages some of which you hadn’t even heard of. When you make a mistake, he laughs hard and it’s so therapeutic to hear. When you’re correct, he beams with pride and gently squeezes your hand. Another fleeting moment passes in which you are simply two people; two strangers becoming acquainted. 

Once dinner time approaches, he leads you to the dining room and seats you directly next to him; this was new to you. Previously you’d been across from him and nothing more — your heart begins to pound in your chest. 

“You know,” you say as you sit, “I’ve never seen a single person other than us here, who is cooking the food?”

Hyunjin chuckles, taking his own seat after tucking yours in, “You only thought to ask this now?” When you nod he shrugs, “I have an imp pet who takes care of it.”

You have no idea if he’s joking or not but the time to question him passes as he begins to eat; encouraging you to do the same. You would love to eat, really, but your heart is lodged in your throat and the feeling only worsens as Hyunjin takes your hand in his. 

“Having you here has been wonderful,” he says, out of the blue and you can’t help but blush, “it’s been a long time since i’ve been this happy.”

“I’m glad I can help,” you reply, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. 

The two of you finish your food, hands tied together the entire time and once your fork is placed neatly beside the plate, Hyunjin pulls you to your feet. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.”

Soon enough, you’re met with the familiar view of the closed off room you found the first day you arrived and you look at Hyunjin with curiosity. From his shirt pocket he pulls a tiny key before twisting it into the lock and springing the door open; what you find inside is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

Glass replaces the concrete walls of the room, it’s like stepping into the open ocean yet breathing air. Sunlight pours in brilliant beams, illuminating the multi coloured coral reef that borders the underwater palace. Marine life is rife here, various schools of fish swirl in perfect synchrony, leaving a glimmering trail in their wake. You gape at Hyunjin before running off to get a better view. 

“This is incredible,” you marvel, hands pressed against the glass, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.”

Hyunjin joins you, wrapping a hand around your waist; it catches you off guard and you spin to face him. Now, you can see him so clearly; bathed in the light of the sun, his eyes shine and his flaxen hair frames his features so perfectly. Briefly, you blink absently.

“Y/n,” he speaks low, maintaining eye contact and when you try to avert your gaze, his hand cups your cheek and reels you right back in. There’s a serene silence between you as he brushes the stray hairs from your face, taking in all of you. It’s when his lips press against your own that you lose all inhibitions, letting his tongue explore your mouth as his hands pull you closer by the waist. You cannot escape this primal need to be closer to him, to let your arms sling around his neck and allow yourself to be held; to melt into him. 

One kiss is all it takes for you to tumble into bed with him. Hyunjin takes it slow with you, though you are unsure whether it’s so he can greedily savour every second or to provide you with comfort. Not that it matters when he’s making you feel so good. You lose yourself, submitting fully to him; letting yourself reach highs you never thought existed. When you’re spent, lying flush against him and panting, he cradles you in his arms and smothers the top of your head in tiny kisses. 

“It might come as a shock to you,” Hyunjin muses aloud, eyes looking anywhere but you, “but I think I may have found my missing piece.”

To this, you glance up at him and laugh at the sight of his usually pale face burning beetroot, “What do you mean?”

“It means you complete me and I believe I am in love with you.”

Whoa.

Before you even begin to formulate a reply, Hyunjin butts in.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to reciprocate it just yet,” he says, now looking down at you, “I just wanted you to know.”

You truly are at a loss for words, it feels far too soon for your liking for him to be devoting himself to you yet you are blinded by the rose tinted glasses. Without answering, you nuzzle in the crook of his arm and allow yourself to be coaxed into slumber by Hyunjin absently playing with your hair as you drift into a rest filled with fantastical dreams of what could be.

Reality can never really compare with dreams.

The next morning you return to the glass room and gaze upon the bustling ocean life with childlike wonder, feeling fortunate that you get to view the sea life in a way no other mortal had. You follow the fish, counting every species you see and recognise. It’s not long until Hyunjin finds you and sits neatly on the floor by your side. 

“You seem to like this place a lot.” he observes, leaning back on two hands to get a better view of you. 

“It’s like a different world down here.” You reply, watching with awe as the fish scatter when what looks like a transparent shark passes through the reef. Strange. It’s only upon closer inspection that you realise it’s not a shark but the aquatic outline of a…person?

“Hyunjin,” you grab his attention by pulling on his sleeve and pointing at the figure, “What isthat?”

Hyunjin barely gives a glance before answering.

“They are but wisps in the ocean, nothing to concern yourself with.”

You are unconvinced by his answer but dare not pry more. Instead, you lift yourself up and get as close to the glass as you possibly can to get a better view of the ghostly figure. As you approach the glass, a muted chorus of song can be heard as the figure drifts in and out of view.

“Hyunjin.” you say again, only this time much more stern. When a second figure joins the first and loops in the water, it almost crashes into the glass and your eyes widen in horror. “Is that a woman?”

Hyunjin remains ever silent as your eyes follow the ghostly woman as she sings, her song sending familiar chills down your spine. You turn to him, eyes filled with fear. “What…what is this?”

Hyunjin sighs.

“Sirens,” he says simply as though it were obvious. “They’re Sirens.”

Everything begins to fall into place, the jewels and gems gifted to you, the dresses that were so beautiful…

“Y/n,” Hyunjin is standing now, towering over you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Let me explain.”

You gape at him, words slip from your mind as you try to comprehend the gravity of what he has done.

“You did this?” You can’t hide the disbelief, it encompasses you.

Hyunjin hangs his head in shame, too afraid to look you in the eyes.

“Tell me the truth,” you squeak, beginning to back away slowly.

“They ran from me,” he begins through gritted teeth, “As though I was their worst nightmare incarnate. So I…tore their undeserving beauty from them.” 

You cannot believe what you are hearing. “You cursed them?”

He gives a solemn nod. 

“They will live a life of eternal yearning; an unquenchable thirst for lust that no one man can ever satisfy. That is what they deserve.”

“Is this the fate that awaits me?” You ask, a lump forming in your throat, “A siren lost to the tides?”

Hyunjin ponders the thought for a moment too long before shaking his head.  “You were the first not to run. You are the first I’ve truly felt for.”

Although his plea sounds truthful, you cannot bear to look at him. “You could have let them go,” you say in barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you let them go?”

Hyunjin does not answer, for he cannot. 

“I…I would like to leave.”

The silence is deafening. Every minute that passes where Hyunjin does not speak is a minute closer to your demise: you truly fear for your life. 

“Then, you may go.”

What?

You almost break your neck to look at him; his eyes are reddened with tears.

“You…you’re serious?” you ask in disbelief. 

“If you love someone, you let them go. I cannot keep you here against your will.”

You can feel the pain in his voice, like his heart had been ripped from his chest. 

“Then, let me go.”

Briefly, he pauses and you fear that he has reconsidered but the fear is washed away with the tide as he beckons you to follow him. He dares not reach for your hand as he usually would.

The walk to the great hall feels like an eternity, with Hyunjin’s despondency bearing a heavy weight on your soul. Once you arrive, he stands firmly in place and gnaws on his bottom lip. 

“I can take you home,” he finally says, “That is what you want, yes?”

The glimmer of hope that you will change your mind still faintly burns so when you nod your head, it crushes him. With a heaving sigh, he reaches around his neck and fiddles with a necklace of some sort before taking your hand in his own and passing it to you.

“Take this. If you ever change your mind, open it and I will find you.”

“A locket?” You say upon closer inspection, the brassy heart is adorned with threads of gold. “But this is precious to you.”

He bows his head, “Look after my heart, won’t you?”

Then, darkness consumes you.

*********

When you awaken, you find yourself somewhere in the sea on a rickety old ship just as before; except this time you’re bed ridden. You have no idea whose ship you’re on or how long you’ve been there, so you arise and make an attempt to seek out someone to explain your situation. As soon as you stand up, a splitting migraine assaults your mind — it’s piercing and you fall back onto the bed. With a hiss of pain, you throw your head back onto the pillow. 

Had it been a dream? Surely not. 

With haste you reach for the locket Hyunjin had gave you to find it missing. No…it simply couldn’t have been a fever dream — you refuse to believe it.

The sky screams in anguish as rain lashes down on the upper decks and you try to speak to any of the crewmen who are busying themselves with attending to the ship. Not one of them acknowledges you — typical. It’s by chance that you see one of the men dangling a chain from his hand, boasting to a friend that he’d won it in a card game only the day before. 

“Excuse me, sir,” your attempt at being courteous is pathetic as your patience wanes, “That necklace belongs to me.“

“Says who?” He snarls, looking you up and down.

“Says me,” you reply haughtily, snatching the necklace from his grubby hands.

As soon as the brass touches your skin, your body is set aflame; memories of Hyunjin wash over you like a tsunami — his touch, his taste, his smell. You’re flooded with emotion, drowning in the sweet sadness that fills your heart and you mourn the spark in the ocean, doused as it ignites.

“Bloody bad luck to have a woman on board,” the thief sailor spits as you loop the locket around your neck, twirling the golden heart in your fingers.

“Is that so?”

creatures of curiosity

spirit of the fae ; felixpreview

fables of the trickster fae felix have been passed down through countless generations. hair of honey with a smattering of golden freckles, he is easily the most alluring of his kin. curious and playful, he bewitches his victims with eyes of emerald into following him through knotted brambles, deep into the depths of the forest — his giggles echoing amidst the trees. rarely, though, does he show himself, leaving locals wondering if such an elusive creature can really exists. felix relishes in the uncertainty, for it leaves them susceptible to be lulled into his lair. for all the mystery, felix is truly harmless; he simply enjoys to play and with the other feyfolk seemingly lost to time, it’s a rarity that’s hard to come by.

seriesmasterlist

Pairing: Changbin x Y/N

Genre: heavy angst, fluff, apocalypse!au

Warnings: swearing, gun shot, panic attack, mention of death, it’s the apocalypse so yea….

Words count:3.1K

Summary: Keeping your heads low, you and Changbin sprinted toward the exit. « Don’t stop running! » he screamed. Your lover gave you a quick glance and you noticed that he was just as terrified as you were. You still could hear the hideous noises coming from the train station, noises you believe you would only hear in horror movies or hell… It was the reality you were in. An apocalyptic one.

A.N: hi! here is a little song rec for this fic: next to you by john vincent III  and dance with me by beebadoobee. english isn’t my first language so i apologize for the mistakes. as always, any comments or sharing are always appreciated (´｡• ω •｡`) hope you will enjoy it! - cami, 220220

Your bodies were stuck against each other, people were pushing from every sides, making it difficult to move. Screams and cries could be heard. You could barely see what was going on, too focused on your breath, trying to calm down. Your boyfriend was holding your hand tightly, not wanting to let you go or else it would be almost impossible to find you, lost in that crowd of desperate people. He tip toed, to see if there was any chance for you to jump on the train. Unfortunately more than a hundred of families, elders, kids, and so on were waiting, always pushing and screaming at the station employees. 

One of them turned on the megaphone he was holding on his hand. A piercing sound made the crowd silent, every single soul hoping to hear some good news. 

« Listen! It’s no use to push! This train only has 280 places… Young kids along with their mothers will go first, please make a line or we will not open the gates! » said the man. The silence became thicker. You knew what it meant, you and Changbin didn’t have a single chance… Too many people were standing in front of you to even try to sneak on the steel machine. Your throat became drier, if it was even possible. Your mind was becoming empty, just looking at the grey ground, where all of you were just like those insects, crawling. 

« What about us then ? We don’t get a chance to live ? Don’t you have other trains ? » a sudden yell of a middle-aged man broke the silence. Whispers started to grow louder. Two days ago, an official statement of the government was broadcasted on national tv. Some bunkers were available but, obviously, the amount of places was limited and far too small for the thousands of people of each cities and neighbors. A total of ten bunkers were listed, eight could welcome five thousands people and the two others had a capacity of ten thousands. Not even all the kids would be able to go in there… And then there was the rich ones, politicians, high graded soldiers getting a vip tickets for those concrete fortresses. This was the kind of society you were living in. 

The same employee turned on the megaphone again. 

« We hear your pleadings but… » his voice started to crack, his knuckles were so white that we could wonder if blood was still running through his veins. « It’s the last train which will depart from this city. » 

You knew it. You and Changbin had to try even if you knew it was a lost cause. He looked at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes full of despair. Seeing your own reflection into his deep brown eyes, your expression was mirroring his. 

The crowd was now rumbling. More yells and protests started to burst, people were pushing harder, trying to make the barriers fall. Your bodies were compressed to the point you thought your ribcage was about to break. This meant nothing good and the situation was too tensed. 

« We have to go back, now » urged your lover. You nodded, unable to make a single sound. Intertwining your fingers to make your grip stronger, you turned around, trying to reach the station exit. You were moving forward slowly but it wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would, people were too greedy to steal your spot to not let you pass. You heard the sound of some metal falling on the ground. The barriers were down. 

BANG! BANG! 

« What the fuck! ». Swearing, Changbin immediately put a hand over your head, making you bow to avoid the gun shots you just heard. Your ears were ringing, your hands shaking uncontrollably as your breath was becoming erratic. « Shhh, I’m here babe, I’m here… » said the black haired boy, trying to soothe you. You were still walking, almost crouching, toward the exit. You could see the doors opened right in front of you, few people separating you from your escape. 

After a few seconds, a different voice was heard through the speaker. A soldier warning the crowd to make a line or more people would be endangered despite their ages. It didn’t help, it was just adding some fuel to the fire. 

For the next minutes, only your instincts guided you. The gun shots were incessant, babies and kids were screaming, crying, along with adults. 

« Y/N! Run! » 

Keeping your heads low, you and Changbin sprinted to the exit. « Don’t stop running! » he screamed. Your lover gave you a quick glance and you noticed that he was just as terrified as you were. You still could hear the hideous noises coming from the train station, noises you believe you would only hear in horror movies or hell… It was the reality you were in. An apocalyptic one. 

Weaving on the empty streets, the sounds of your footsteps were echoing against the gigantic skyscrapers and buildings. Your lungs were burning and that’s when you come to a halt to your runaway. You were far enough to be safe now. Changbin immediately stopped. You let go his hand, putting both of yours on your knees to catch your breath and support yourself from falling. The boy looked at you, he could feel tears threatening to fall any time, but he needed to hold them back a bit longer. For you. For him. Fuck. What you both just witnessed was terrible. A shooting. It was human’s true nature, uh ? And it was probably your last day in that sick world. At this thought, Changbin had to bite his lips harshly to not break into tears. You still hadn’t move from your hunched position. Coming closer, he put his warm hands on your cheeks. He felt the wetness of them as you were silently crying. 

« Look at me… Baby. Please ». You didn’t want him to see how broken you were. You knew he felt the same but tried his best not to show it. That’s how he was, thinking about the ones he loves first, being so selfless. Complying to his request, you faced him. His chin was trembling, his eyes were full of panic as he was trying to keep his composure. 

« We will stay together ok ? No matter what. I will never leave you behind. » 

«  I know Changbin, I know » you wrapped your arms around his torso as he gave you a peck on your forehead. You stayed in each others arms for a few minutes before he took your hand in his. 

« We should get going. Let’s find some water and food first. » 

You nodded, following your boyfriend. 

The silence on the streets was burdensome. You could hear some things falling on the concrete sometimes, some tv running in abandoned houses. Birds weren’t chirping anymore. They flew away a while ago, even before scientists knew that an enormous comet was about to fall on earth and destroy almost every lives on it. Where would you ask ? You didn’t know. Animals had this survival instinct humans barely had. They would probably find the safest place if there was one.

Around a corner, you found a small grocery store. Your race had made you thirsty and water was very much needed. The dark haired boy looked through the glass of the window. There was not a single soul in sight. He gestured you to come with him, pushed the door, a bell sound welcoming you. 

« Hello ? » he asked, scanning the surroundings. No answer. 

« Ok, I will go grab a bag and take some supplies to spend the day. You get the water, seems good for you ? ». 

« Yea, no problem, I will be right there » you said, pointing at the drinks area. He gave you a small smile that you returned and turned around. There wasn’t a lot of bottles left. After the announcement, people rushed to get some stock of food and water, in hope of surviving. You kneeled down to get a bottle stored at the end of the rack. As your fingertips were skimming over the bottle cap, you felt something hard against the back of your head. 

« Don’t move ». A man was standing behind you. Your heart started to beat faster. Was this a damn joke ? You escaped a place just to get in an other ambush. Putting your hands in the air, you tried to face the man, but he pushed the thing harder on your head. 

«  I said don’t move! » he yelled. You heard some steps rushing in your direction. 

«  He has a weapon! » you warned. The steps stopped before starting again, slower this time. 

« What ? You’re with someone ? » the guy seemed more and more panicked. Just a wrong move on the trigger and you would be dead. 

« Come on mate, let her go ». Your lover was here. You could only see his shadow on the floor. Looked like his hands were up as well. The tip of the gun finally moved. The stranger didn’t know where to point it at. Changbin continued. 

« We just want some food and water for the day… It’s not as if it was the end of the world, right ? » he scoffed at his own sarcastic joke. Apparently, he was the only one to. You finally managed to turn around and see what was going on. 

The man was probably in his forties, holding a shotgun in his hands, aiming at your significant other. They were looking intensely at each other, when the man finally dropped his weapon. He let himself fall on the ground, sobbing. 

« Y-you right… We’re going to d-d-… » the word couldn’t even go through his lips. Grabbing his scalp, his breath loud and quick. He was probably having a panic attack. Who could blame him ? 

Taking advantage of the weak state of the stranger, Changbin helped you to get on your feet, the water bottles secured into your arms. 

« We’re leaving now. Take care of you man. » you both waited for a second, to ensure your security, before going out. Your pace quickly sped up. Your boyfriend tripped over some garbage on the ground, losing his balance before you caught his forearm. 

«  You ok ? » you asked, eyes looking every inch of his body to know if he was hurt. 

« I am, don’t worry, just keep going » he spat, worried about the possibility of the shop owner loosing his damn mind. For what seemed to be the nth time of the day, here you were, running. 

Bang! 

The sound was distant but you know what it meant. You looked at Changbin who simply replied that you couldn’t have saved him. Nobody could. Humanity was doomed. 

Roaming around the road, few cars were abandoned, most people took theirs to try to reach the cities owning a bunker as soon as possible. Your significant other saw a possibility for you to, maybe, have one last car trip. He tried to open the car doors. Some were locked, some opened but no keys on it. When finally he found one. 

« Y/N look! », for the first time of the day he seemed excited. He put the backpack you got at the grocery store on the ground, took place on the driver seat and turned on the engine, pushing on the accelerator with one of his feet. The motor was making some strange sounds. 

« Come on » he mumbled. A low sound, which sounded like victory, could be heard. « Yes! » he jumped out of the car to throw his bag on the back seats. His sudden serotonin burst was pretty contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. He sped up to open the car door for you. 

« Mademoiselle » he said while bowing reverently. You thanked him, giggling. Where did he learn that word ? It didn’t matter honestly. As long as you were together, nothing mattered. 

« Babe, why don’t we go to our favorite place ? It might be the last time we see it. » offered the black haired boy, a sour taste lacing the joyful tone of his voice. 

« It’s one and half an hour from here though». Would you make it one time ? Wasn’t it more reasonable to just found a nice place around here, to enjoy your last day ? Because it surely was the last. Trying to reach one of the bunkers was out of option, too far away and, seen what happened at the train station, too dangerous. 

« Yes, when we respect speed limits » he answered with a smirk. Changbin wanted both of you to enjoy this time to the fullest. You returned his smile and buckled your seatbelt. 

The road was desert. Indeed, it was easier to not respect the speed limits. You had turned on the car radio, singing all the songs you knew, screaming through the opened windows. It felt like freedom. However, the song was cut short as you heard the government official sound resonating. Your smiles faded away in a blink of an eye, catching all of your attention. 

« Dear inhabitants of XXXX, nine out of the ten available bunkers are now full. » 

« Already ? » you thought out loud, astonished by how fast it was. You glimpsed at your lover. His grip on the steering wheel was firm, his knuckles white, jaw clenched as his gaze was focused on the road unveiling in front of his eyes. Your heart broke at the sight of it. You put what you hoped to be a comforting hand on the back of his head, caressing his hair lovingly. He gave in into your touch, taking a deep breath as the politician’s speech was still going on. 

« According to the scientist, the comet’s impact should happen- ». Before you could hear anything else, Changbin turned the radio off. The mood became gloomy. 

Resting your head on his shoulder, you were thinking about everything you did together. All the good and bad times, those memories engraved in your soul so deeply that you could never forget them.

« Remember that time I broke your computer and tried to fix it ? » you asked him. 

« Uh ? Why suddenly ? ». He seemed confused by your question. 

« I thought you would be furious. I saw your face turning white when I showed it to you but you didn’t yell at me. You just said that it was too old anyway and wanted to buy a new one. You always put the others’ happiness before your own. I wanted to thank you for that. » 

Your words were sincere, he could feel it. He took one of your hand in his and gave a gentle kiss to it. 

« It’s better to enjoy the time we have with our loved ones rather than fighting over small and useless things , right ? » he whispered in a deep voice. You nodded, tightening your grip on his hand. 

The trees siding the road were becoming sparse. At the horizon, you could now see it. The deep blue of the sea spreading far, far away until it became one with the sky. You and Changbin loved to come here. This place was full of memories and the only one able to soothe your wounded and desperate hearts.

It only took you fifty minutes to get there and you were glad you accepted to come here. He parked the car. You stay in for a moment, staring at the sea. Your boyfriend was the first one to go out, stretching his sore body. Joining him, you also grabbed the food and drinks in the backpack. 

« Let’s eat, shall we ? » you asked, softly smiling. He agreed. You both sat on the sand, eating in silence, unable to truly enjoy your last dish. The little happiness you had before was now gone.

« I should have propose to you » he blurted out. You almost choked at his declaration. He kept going. 

« I wish I had seen you wearing a beautiful wedding gown, seen you carrying our babies, seen you aging by my side. I wanted it all. » his voice cracked. Gathering all the strength you had, you answered him.

« You would have been a wonderful husband and father, Seo Changbin. » 

He looked at you, his eyes filled with tears. It was hard to swallow, your throat so tight that you wondered how you could even breath. 

« I love you Y/N and I will love you in our next live, and the next ones. Always. » 

You half laughed, half sobbed. « I love you too, I will love you till death do us apart ».

He cupped your face and crashed his lips on yours. The kiss was full of passion and distress. You could feel a salty taste on your tongue. His tears or yours ? Probably both. You stopped to catch your breath, noses brushing against each others. His eyes were red, lost, helpless. You stood up, giving him a hand to join you. He grabbed it and put the other one on your waist. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you started slow dancing to an inexistent music, kissing softly in between your sobs. Murmuring some « I love you » and « I will always be with you ». 

While you were dancing, the twilight started covering the world of its dark blue coat. Stars shining like little diamonds. As the universe was watching you, you kept talking about your good memories, holding hands, hugging each other. It was unfair. You didn’t deserve this. However, it couldn’t be helped. 

This is when you saw it. The comet. A white bright line tearing the sky into two distinct parts. It was far bigger than a simple shooting star. You could see the rocky aspect of it. You were both hypnotized by it, like moths being attracted by the street lights. At this moment, you could tell that there was some beauty in death. Coming back to your senses, as if time had stopped for a minute, you both jumped into each other arms, holding yourselves with such strength that you thought your bodies were about to make one. 

A thud echoing from afar. Air started to vibrate. 

« Changbin! » you squeaked. He knew. He had known what was going to happen for days but still hoped you could have a chance to survive. He could see his reflection in your eyes. Tears falling uncontrollably as he was trying to memorize every single one of your face feature. His hands were shaking. 

A jolt made you loose your balance, almost making you fall on your knees. One last hug. One last « I love you ». 

« Let’s meet again, my love » he whispered with a faint smile. 

« I will always find you, Changbin. » 

One last kiss. 

Your world vanishing into nothingness.   

Someday: Chapter 14 - My Side

Pairing:Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Chapter word count:1.9k

Song recs:Depend On You,Cornelia Street

a/n: double update!! <3

Series masterlist

He freezes. Your breath catches in your throat as he turns to face you once more, eyes wide.

“What?”

“I know it’s too late,” you admit, sighing. He shakes his head slowly. “But if you could just forgive me- no, you don’t have to do that, you don’t need to, but I’m not going to let you slip away this easily, I-” your words die in your throat as he quickly closes the gap between the two of you, takes your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours.

You melt into his arms as they circle around you, pulling you to him with a firmness that, if it were from anyone else, would scare you. But this is Chris. This is comfortable, this is familiar. This is him.

“I love you,” he murmurs when the two of you pull apart, faces remaining centimeters apart. He runs a hand over your hair. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m so sorry.” You start to cry in earnest, tears soaking the front of his shirt as you bury your face in his chest. He doesn’t say anything, just holds you to him with a tenderness that makes you sob even harder. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats, rocking the two of you slowly back and forth.

He hums quietly, something he used to do over the phone when you couldn’t sleep. It’s a song you recognize, an old one from when you were kids. His mom used to sing it while she cleaned the kitchen, the two of you sat at the kitchen table doing math homework or drawing.

When you finally step back a few inches, he takes one of your hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You smile at him, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Can I kiss you again?” you ask tentatively, and he smiles, tilting your head up with his right thumb and forefinger. You fit your lips to his, cheeks ablaze. You take it slow, letting yourself let go of any residual worries. His breath is warm as it mingles with yours, and his lips are slightly chapped, but not rough. You bring a hand up and rest it on the side of his face, smiling against his lips as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to him again.

You hiss in pain as his sleeve scratches against the cut on your neck. He pulls away, concerned.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes widen when you lift a hand to the abrasion, and a couple of your fingers come back dotted with red. “Fuck, did I do that?” he asks, going to check his hands. You shake your head, sighing at yourself.

“No, it’s from earlier. I thought I got it to stop bleeding, I guess I was wrong.” When the panic on his face doesn’t go away, you lay a hand on his arm. “I’m fine, my necklace just got caught on my shirt and it cut my neck a little. I’m okay.” He nods.

“You should put something on it,” he stresses.

“You sound like my mom,” you complain as you head inside, nodding for him to come in behind you. He shuts the door behind him, laughing quietly as he follows you to the bathroom.

He nods for you to sit on the edge of the tub, pulling the first aid kit down from the shelf above the sink. You take a seat, watching as he takes out some Neosporin and a band-aid.

You scoot over so he has room to sit next to you, shivering as he pulls down the collar of your shirt and carefully cleans and covers the angry red stripe across your neck, gentle fingers ghosting over your skin.

“Thanks,” you say as he returns the first aid kit to its spot next to a jar filled with toothbrushes. He nods.

“Be careful, okay? That could’ve been worse if it was deeper.” You nod, taking the hand he offers to help you up. You stumble forward, cheeks burning as he easily catches you, your faces a breath away.

“Hi,” you say, grinning. He laughs as you regain your balance and stand up. “I know it’s, like, 3 am, but I’m not tired at all. Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Always,” he answers, and you grin.

About a minute later, you’re standing in the kitchen, perched on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab a couple of mugs from a cabinet. Chan reaches over you, procuring the cups and placing them down in front of you.

“We get it, you had a growth spurt,” you grumble, and he laughs, wrapping his arms around you from behind for a moment before letting you go so you can make the drinks.

“Can you fill up the kettle?” you ask, and he nods, picking it up and taking it over to the sink, turning on the tap and letting the water pour into it. He hands it back to you with a smile, and you put it on the stove, turning on the burner and leaning back against the counter as you wait for the water to boil.

“So,” Chan says, standing next to you. “We should probably talk.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding.

“So, do you want to…” he trails off, motioning between the two of you. You nod, smiling softly at him.

“I do. I really do,” you say earnestly. “I’m not going to pretend like I’m not terrified, but I want to try.”

“What of?” he asks, and you sigh, using your palms to hoist yourself up to sit on the counter. You lean over to check the kettle before looking back at him.

“The stuff I mentioned earlier, I guess. Just things not working out.”

“You have nothing to worry about, I promise,” he reassures you, shaking his head. You open your mouth in protest, but he shakes his head again. “Even if we can’t make it work this way anymore, you’ll still be my best friend, okay? That’s never going to change,” he says, coming to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his and holding them up between the two of you, interlocking your fingers. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

“Okay,” you breathe. “I won’t either.” He smiles, moving your hands from between the two of you to press his lips to your forehead. He pulls back, meeting your eyes.

“We’re good?”

“We’re good,” you say quietly, nodding. You hold out your arms, and he smiles, wrapping his around you, picking you up off the counter, and setting you down on the floor to properly hug you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He pulls you impossibly close to him, clutching at the back of your sweater like he’s afraid you’ll disappear into thin air. “You’re going to be the death of me,” you breathe, and he laughs. You smile at the sound.

“I would hope not, I really want to drink that hot chocolate.”

The two of you stay up for another hour or so, sitting on the kitchen floor, sipping your hot cocoa, and talking about what to do next.

“I’d prefer if we didn’t tell the members for a bit,” Chan says, grimacing. You tilt your head.

“Why not?”

“They’ll tease both of us mercilessly.”

“Fair point. We can wait a bit on that one,” you laugh, nodding. Chris smiles softly as he watches the corners of your eyes crinkle with laughter. He’ll never get tired of the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, making your stomach do somersaults. You set your mug down as he laughs at how flustered you are. “I’ve complimented you before, haven’t I?”

“It’s different,” you whine, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He just laughs softly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to him. “Chris,” you say, voice comically muffled by his sweatshirt. “I’m really tired.” As if on cue, he yawns.

“I think you might be psychic,” he teases.

“Can you spend the night?” you ask tentatively, sitting back. “I don’t feel good about you driving back this late. Also, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Sure,” he says, lifting a hand to your face and gently brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I can stay.”

“Yay,” you cheer quietly as you stand up, making him laugh. You grab the mugs the two of you used and quickly hand wash them in the sink as Chan puts away the hot chocolate mix and says hi to Bella.

When you’re done, the two of you make your way down the hall to your room, leaning on each other for support. You hadn’t quite realized how tired you were earlier, but as the adrenaline from the earlier events of tonight and the small traces of caffeine in the chocolate wear off, your exhaustion smacks you in the face. Chan’s visibly in the same predicament, barely able to keep his eyes open.

You switch on your lamp, the bulbs illuminating your room as you rummage through your closet for PJ shorts and a t-shirt. You quickly change into them as he washes his face in the bathroom.

Bella comes trotting in as he enters, and you scratch her ears as she curls up on her bed in the corner of your room. Chan flops face-first onto the mattress, star-fishing across the blankets. You laugh, shoving him over to one half and then climbing under the covers. He does the same, yawning.

“C’mere,” he says, and you laugh as he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them securely around you.

“Wait, I forgot something,” you say, leaning your head back. He tilts his head, confused.

“What did you-” you press your lips to his, and you can feel his cheeks warm.

“I’m glad you remembered,” he says as you lay your head back down, and you laugh softly.

“Hey, Chris?” you say after a while, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Hm?”

“Thank you. For not giving up on me. I’m sorry for not telling you how I was feeling about everything earlier.” You feel him smile as he tucks your head into the spot between his chin and chest.

“I don’t think I’m capable of giving up on you,” he says.

You drift off to the sound of his quiet breathing and the comforting weight of his arms around you, dreaming of sunny afternoons from years past and warm laughter that echoes through your head like a melody.

Chan lies awake until he’s sure you’re asleep, smiling when your breaths even out, the hand you’ve intertwined with one of his going limp. He knows you’ve been having trouble getting to sleep - what with finals having just ended and not knowing how you did yet, along with everything else, you’ve told him how hard it is for you to get enough rest as of late. He’s glad you’re able to get some now.

He mulls everything over as you slumber beside him, unable to tear his eyes away from your sleep-softened features. He isn’t sure that any of this is real, unable to believe that the person in his arms is finally his. After all these years, you’re his.

Andgod, is he yours. He has been since the day he met you. Yours. Always.

taglist:

@chrisishungry100397@nattisbored@hwangjinnies@phobia0325@awkwardnesshabitat@chanology325@hobi-is-golden@wearethethunderousones@skz-enhypen@christina-g@bigsobforskz@simjaeyunspinkytoe@kassthepotato@madhatterhp16@foivetimesacharm@hanasonmi@nasiaisan

Someday: Chapter 13 - Phobia

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Chapter word count:2k

Song rec:I Wish You Would

“You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m not giving up on you.“

a/n: sorry this update took so long! i’ve been burnt out bc of how difficult school’s been lately and it’s been hard to find writing time. tysm for being patient <3

Series masterlist

You lay in bed for hours, nervously fidgeting with your necklace, moving the ring back and forth along the chain, fingers turning raw. The sound of Bella barking at a car pulling up across the street startles you, and you turn quickly, your necklace slicing the back of your neck.

“Shit,” you breathe, wincing. You quickly bring a hand up to check the cut, sighing when it comes away dotted with red.

You trudge to the bathroom, switching on the light. It flickers sporadically, spelling out a message you don’t care to decipher. Dampening a washcloth and pressing it against the back of your neck, you lean back against the counter, staring up at the ceiling. What a night, you think to yourself, letting out a bitter laugh.

Once the bleeding seems to stop, you retreat to your bedroom, thoughts consuming you again. You mull over what you’d said to him, knowing it wasn’t fair to either of you. It wasn’t fair of you to not try, preferring to lose him completely without even taking a risk.

He was stupid.

He was so fucking stupid.

Chan repeats the word over and over in his head as he sits upright in bed, unable to move.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He’d said he wanted to forget everything. Forget you. He’d practically done everything but pack your bags and send you on the next flight to New York.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Sighing, he toys with the ring on his finger, a knot tying itself in his throat.

He eventually pries himself out of bed, fumbling to the bathroom in the dark and turning on the water.

Steam billows up from the showerhead as he steps inside, letting the water soak his hair and skin. He rubs his hands with his face, ring catching on his nose and leaving a small scratch in its path.

He sighs, angrily wrenching it off and watching as it slips through his fingers. It falls to the slick tiled floor of the shower with an echoed ping. He quickly picks it up, clasping it in his hand with a shaky breath.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He turns off the water, stepping out of the shower and drying off with a towel as he slips back into his room and pulls on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He quickly discards it as he realizes it’s the one you’d borrowed a few nights previous, opting for the one he’d worn earlier today.

He sits down on the edge of his bed, opening his still-closed fist to reveal the slim metal band that rests on his palm. He sets it on the mattress next to him, burying the heels of his palms in his eyes, blocking out the pale moonlight filtering through the blinds.

Muffled sobs shake his shoulders as he doubles over, the words the both of you had spat at each other on the beach replaying over and over in his head.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He isn’t sure how long he stays like that, but by the time he sits up, a knot has twisted itself in his neck. He checks his watch. 1:47. Sighing, he stands, grabs his keys from his dresser, and heads for the hallway. He pauses in the doorframe before turning back to grab the ring sitting on the comforter and then goes downstairs.

He grabs his shoes, pulling them on then quietly slipping outside, closing the door behind him.

He drives and drives and drives, not sure where he’s going.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He berates himself silently as he turns down street after street, repeating the words in his head even louder when he realizes where he’s ended up.

He hops out of the car, closing the door behind him with a thud and making his way down the path into the park, letting his legs carry him to wherever they’re going. The fuck if he knows.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Moonlight ripples like silver foam across the pond, its dim rays washing the surrounding foliage in a cold, pale glow. Chan sits down on a bench by the water, pulling his legs up and crossing them under him with a sigh. He glances over to the spot you’d occupied just days ago, when none of this was as complicated as it was now, when he hadn’t ruined everything.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He stands with a shudder as he battles with the idea developing in his head. It’s idiotic, he tells himself as he walks back. Far beyond it, in fact.

He gets into the car, putting the key into the ignition and pulling out onto the street, hands shaking as he grips the steering wheel.

If you’re awake, you might as well pack. You leave in a couple of days, and your suitcase is still a jumble of worn clothes and recently purchased books and other various items from your outing with everyone earlier today.

Sighing, you grab an extra hamper from your closet, fill it with your laundry, and take it to the mudroom, tossing the used clothes into the wash and turning on the machine before heading back to your room.

You tetris all of your books into a cardboard box, making a mental note to print out a shipping label tomorrow morning - you’ll have to mail them to your dorm, they won’t fit in your luggage. You frown as you realize that means you won’t be able to read them for a few weeks.

You hear a series of muffled sounds from the direction of the living room, passing it off as Bella knocking over the bucket of her toys in the dark. You continue folding shirts and jeans, placing them into your suitcase neatly.

The sounds repeat, and this time you realize they’re knocks - someone’s at the door.

Who the fuck is even awake right now? you think to yourself as you pad into the living room, sidestepping the folded clothes and boxes on your floor.

You open the door a sliver, eyes widening as you realize who’s standing on your porch.

“Chris…?” you manage to breathe out.

“Hey,” he says, swallowing nervously.

“What are you-” you sigh, shaking your head. “It’s two in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“I was stupid. I was so fucking stupid, Y/n, I-” he takes a deep, shuddering breath as he forces himself to meet your eyes, the familiarity in them no longer comforting. “If I could take it all back, I would. I didn’t mean what I said, I-”

“You said it, though,” you say, voice wavering.

“Y/n…”

“I can’t talk to you right now, I’m sorry,” you say, voice breaking as you shake your head and step back over the threshold.

His words die in his throat as you shut the door in his face, tears stinging his waterline.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, shaking his head firmly as he watches the shadow of your form freeze behind the frosted glass. “You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m not giving up on you.“

You pull the door open again, salty tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “I was perfectly happy to go back to being just friends,” you choke out. “But I think you made it pretty clear you don’t want to do that. I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I loved you, Chris,” you force out, biting back more tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. His face crumples. “I really, really loved you. I still do if I’m being honest with myself. But I can’t- I can’t keep letting us do this,” you say, motioning between the two of you.

“Y/n, I l-”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Please don’t.“ Your vision blurs as more tears bead in your eyes. You sigh, blinking furiously as you look away briefly. “You were the only person in the world that made me feel safe. Made me feel at home. Even if that home looked different from time to time, even if we both thought it would have different implications at some point. But I realized that waiting for you, waiting for us, wasn’t something I could do. I was scared, okay? I was scared.” your voice breaks as you admit it. You pretend to not notice the tears starting to trickle down his face, akin to your own. “I know that’s stupid, but I was. I was terrified that I would lose you if we couldn’t make it work, or that you’d meet someone else - someone better. That they’d make you’d realize that waiting for me wasn’t- wasn’t worth it.”

Chan freezes, brows knitting together as you finally step out onto the porch to stand a few feet from him, letting the door shut behind you.

“Y/n,” he breathes. You shake your head, turning away from him, but you make no move to stop him, so he keeps going. “I didn’t mean what I said. That doesn’t make it okay, but…you deserve to know that it wasn’t true. And you also deserve to know that-” he takes a deep breath. “-that there couldn’t be anyone better than you. Ever.” You turn your head slowly, eyes softening. “If you need to let go, I understand. I won’t try to stop you. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you did, nobody deserves that, especially you. I’ll- I’ll get going.” He glances away for a moment, looking out at the neighborhood. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, turning to leave.

“Chris, wait,” you say shakily. He looks back at you for a moment. You shake your head slowly, biting the inside of your cheek.

Deep down, you’ve always known that he’s part of you. He knows everything about you, and he’s never shied away from any of it. He’s never hesitated to let you know how much he cares about you.

He’s your best friend.

You won’t let yourself sabotage this like you usually do with things that matter to you. You’ve lost too many relationships like this. You’re sick of it. You’re sick of yourself.

But somehow, he isn’t. He isn’t sick of you. He’s always there when you need him. He’s always by your side. And that’s what you need right now.

You need someone by your side.

You need him.

“I want to try.”

taglist:

@chrisishungry100397@nattisbored@hwangjinnies@phobia0325@awkwardnesshabitat@chanology325@hobi-is-golden@wearethethunderousones@skz-enhypen@christina-g@bigsobforskz@simjaeyunspinkytoe@kassthepotato@madhatterhp16@foivetimesacharm@hanasonmi@nasiaisan

star-lemonade:

Just Hold Me

Pairing: Stray Kids Changbin x Reader

Rating: R

Word count: 9.7k

Genre: angsty, fluff, smut, hybrid au

Warnings: smut, angst, loneliness, cuddling with a stranger, cockwarming, soft smut UwU, strangers to lovers

Synopsis: You’ve been going through a period of depression and feeling rather alone. When you see a flyer advertising a professional cuddling business, you laugh it off at first because there’s no way you’re that desperate. Only the idea won’t seem to leave your mind. One day you’re feeling especially bad and before you know it you’re inside the building and signing up for a session.

This is a prompt by @hybridfanfiction<3

A/N: Okay, trust me on this one. If Changbin is the tiniest bit attractive to you, you should read this.

Stary Kids Masterlist

Things had not been looking great lately. Slowly but surely you had grown apart from your friends as your lives had moved in different directions and you had less and less to talk about. Work was okay but you just went there to pay your bills. There were one or two colleagues that were worth your time but they were often busy with their own lives that you rarely saw them outside of work. It had been some time since your last date and even longer since your last relationship. You and your family had not spoken in years which was the only good thing given how toxic they had been for as long as you could remember. Even now after all this time, you doubted that they had changed and their words from the past sometimes still swirled in your head when you lay awake at 3 am. 

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noramoons:

2:33 a.m.

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, (slight) angst

word count: 1.3k

warnings: language

summary: a thunderstorm keeps you and chan from falling asleep.

You’re in that hazy, unbalanced world between sleep and consciousness when you hear the first clap of thunder.

Your eyes widen. You’re certainly awake now.

But you wait for a few moments. The rain outside is pouring, sure, but maybe you’ve just caught the end of it. You’re tired enough as it is from your day earlier—if you can just go back to sleep, maybe everything will—

Your room lights up with the next bolt of lightning, nearly as bright as if you’d turned the lights on.

Shit.

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strawberry-felix:

ROOMMATES ▶ CHAN

▶ Summary: When you best friend and roommate, Chan, starts dating someone new, you’re forced to confront your true feelings for him, and question whether you should be living with him at all

▶ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem reader (non-idol AU, roommates, mutual pining)

▶ Warnings: explicit content (specific warnings under Keep Reading)

▶ Word Count:4.9k

▶ Rating: 18+

Masterlist

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