#your family members start disappearing
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it is really something else to be the only responsible one in your entire family. my cousins are in their late 30s-40s and they're all idiots and actively make problems instead of helping. my aunts are both foolish and can't get their shit together like why.
#that bullshit about how u get ur shit together in ur 30s is a lie#that's when shit starts falling apart#your parents and family members get older and older so YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS#the responsible ones step up while everyone else disappears suddenly#people fall to pieces and you have to wrangle them back up while ALSO taking care of your own mental health#and there's no reasoning with them. there's no understanding it's just. foolishness
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Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!
And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.
ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.
you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.
your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.
you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.
one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.
you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.
one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.
the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.
he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.
“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.
the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.
well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.
you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.
apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.
simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.
“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.
“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.
the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.
you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.
the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?
“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”
“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”
“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.
“points to you.”
“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.
he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.
“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.
you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.
“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.
“or should we take off another?”
you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”
“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.
“ghost!”
it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.
“what, mactavish? im busy.”
“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.
the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).
“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.
“it’s fucking shepard.”
it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.
you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.
“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.
you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.
you pass out.
when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.
“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.
your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.
the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.
your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.
“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.
you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.
“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.
“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.
“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”
he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.
he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.
just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.
“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.
you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.
“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.
“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”
“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.
“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.
“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.
“and whose fault is that?”
the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.
“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.
you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.
simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.
your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.
“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.
“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.
the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.
“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.
spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.
john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.
when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.
the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.
there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.
it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.
your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.
when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.
“how’re you feeling?”
you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.
“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”
the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.
the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.
“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.
no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.
you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—
you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.
that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.
your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.
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authors note:
I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.
thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶
#angst#simon riley x gn reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley angst#cod mw2 fic#cod x reader#task force 141#tf 141#141 x reader#141!reader#ghost x gn reader#gn!reader#ghost x you#ghost angst#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#ghost cod#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john price#kyle garrick#john mactavish#mw2 141#captain price
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Each of the Batfamily members have moments that genuinely scare the others.
For Cass, the family generally tries not to piss her off from a consensus that she'll win any fight.
Damian is usually not feared, especially when he's making assassination attempts or insults. When he becomes silent and an animal is involved, that's when the Bats start to freak out.
Duke doesn't mean to be scary. He'll just casually mention something he's done or react to someone instinctively with his powers. This reminds the others why he usually handles the day shift alone.
Dick has two settings to set his family instantly on edge: The first is when he lacks a smile or quips. This is usually reserved for enemies. The second is when he -is- smiling, but it's not right. He only does this allies who are about to be verbally or physically eviscerated.
Steph will lack any visible emotion in her face.
Jason's scary to his family when he makes biting remarks or starts to monologue. He usually follows those up with physical retaliation or some dastardly plans.
Babs uses her "Customer Service" voice as the last warning before your tech or reputation is destroyed.
Tim will either disappear without warning (to make some heinous schemes), or he'll pull out the Drake™ smile.
Bruce just starts talking about emotions.
For Alfred, there'll be dirty dishes in the sink.
#dc comics#dc universe#dc robin#tim drake#batman#dc red robin#damian wayne#bruce wayne#dick grayson#red hood#dc nightwing#jason todd#duke thomas#cassandra wayne#alfred pennyworth#dc signal#steph brown#dc batfam#batfamily#barbara gordon#dc oracle
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Idea for a Generic Medieval Fantasy Setting: The characters refer to their nameday as an apparent stand-in for birthdays, celebrating it annually according to their respective preferences and perhaps family customs, as one does. People talk about things that happened before someone's time as having gone down "before you were named", someone grievously insults an opponent on the battlefield by going "your mother should never have named you." So with the way naming is always talked about, as a reader you start to somewhat assume from context clues that these people have some sort of a taboo about the word "birth" or something, and naming is used as some sort of an euphenism to avoid naming the process in which people come into the world.
Then somewhere halfway through the story it turns out that in this setting, people aren't named immediately after being born. This is a semi-realistic-gritty fantasy setting, after all. Due to the somewhat high infant mortality, to at least somewhat soften the blow of potentially losing a child, babies just aren't named before the parents are pretty confident that the kid is going to survive. The naming ceremony is where a baby is officially aknowledged as an entire individual, a member of the family and a legally existing person, instead of just a gurgling extension of the mother who may or may not disappear from this world. And that timespan between birth and being named is - depending on the situation and the family - somewhere between 1-4 years.
And suddenly the whole bunch of annoyingly-too-mature teenagers and other weird remarks about age start making sense in hindsight. The heroine protagonist who celebrated her 16th nameday at the start of the story is actually 19 years old. The wild difference in maturity between two characters who were both named the same year wasn't just a difference in backgrounds, The Rich Idiot isn't just rosy-cheeked and naive due to being sheltered growing up, but actually literally years younger than a peasant "of the same age". A character who's sickly and was frequently remarked to look much older than their years hasn't just been harrowed by their illness, but was not named before the age of seven because their parents didn't think they'd survive.
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THINK YOU NEED SOMEONE YOUNGER + ONE PIECE MEN
they start to realize they might be a little too old for you ft. crocodile, mihawk, smoker, shanks, doflamingo, corazon
info: will do this for other fandoms too i think, angsty on some; not proofread
crocodile never felt insecure, at least when it came to your relationship. after he left impel down and came to look for you, things got a little... weird. he was avoiding you. you knew it wasn't because he didn't want to bring you into his business (he did it more than once), it was something you didn't really understand. before you could even confront him about it, he said out of nowhere one day: "did you... get with anyone while i was away?" he looked at you with a hard stare. "someone... younger?" you almost laughed at his question, but you held yourself back. your arms circled his waist and you rested your chin on his chest. 'i don't know anyone younger that is as attractive as you, sir.' he grinned, holding the back of your head with his hand. "good."
mihawk noticed how you and zoro interacted during his time at the island. he wasn't suspicious that something was happening, he knew you would never cheat on him or break his trust; but... a thought started to spread in his mind like poison. once zoro and perona left, and you two finally managed to carry on with your married life alone, he asked you one day while you drank tea together. "how do you feel about me being... older?" you looked at him with raised eyebrows and 'the only thing that matters to me is you. i fell in love with your personality and the way you treat me, not your age.' he hummed, a deep sound that you know reverberated on his chest. even if it was faint, you could see a soft pink dusting his cheeks.
smoker didn't think about your age gap until he overheard some of the new recruits talking about you two. captain smoker having a younger partner is a little weird isn't it, was what they said. when he was back home and you were resting against his chest, softly playing with the hair on the area, he told you about it. you looked up, your eyes shining, 'old pan makes good food'. the laughter that left his lips was one that he always reserved for you, his most sincere and genuine laugh; he pressed his lips on the top of your head, murmuring praises and love confessions against your hair.
shanks really didn't care about it, not as much as other members of his crew did – with how well they knew their captain, the man would be destroyed if you decided to leave him. 'she might go for a younger guy, when your thing doesn't get up anymore.' they usually voiced their concerns in the form of jokes, so they wouldn't be too harsh on their captain, but it was effective. those comments made him start to realize what you two were – lovers. one day, without telling you, he and the crew left. simply left the island, leaving you behind with only an note written "don't look for me." in a messy manner.
one thing about doflamingo is that he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants. and since the moment he laid eyes on you, you were his. the people that tried to comment on your age gap always "mysteriously" disappeared, even if they were from inside his organization. no one could talk about him and his partner like that. if he ever brought up the topic, it was only to test if you were seeing anyone or wanted someone younger (he knows you don't. he knows everything); your praises towards him and your love always left him pleased – he would give you the same in return.
corazon is frequently insecure about your relationship. he wonders if you really love him, if he's good enough for you, if he's being a good boyfriend, if he missed any important date that he should've remembered – your age gap (made worse by your height gap too) is only another one of those concerns. no matter what you say, he often asks you if you wouldn't want to be with someone younger and with a better family than him. one day, after he asked that for the millionth time, you answered: "we can have a family of our own, rosi. you deserve happiness. you said once i made you happy, so i will stay. the only way you're going to get rid of me is if one of us is gone." he chuckled and smiled widely, as he often did around you and law, hugging you tightly against his body. 'i adore you. with all my heart and soul, i love you.'
2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!
#crocodile#dracule mihawk#smoker#red hair shanks#donquixote doflamingo#donquixote rosinante#one piece x reader#op x reader#one piece x you#one piece x reader fluff#op x you#corazon x reader#rosinante x reader#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo x you#mihawk x reader#mihawk x you#smoker x reader#smoker x you#crocodile x reader#crocodile x you#shanks x reader#shanks x you
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Falling Flower | K.Mg
Pairing: CEO Mingyu! x Secretary Reader
Genre: suggestive, fluff, humour, angst
Summary: Mingyu never thought that he would find Y/n, his friend's secretary, attractive. What's started from eyes, physical, has fallen to his heart. As he tries to get to know you, he realizes he knew nothing about you.
Warning: child abuse, mental health, pregnancy, unprotected sex, ptsd, asexual description on character, heavy plot asdfghjkl.
Part 2 has uploaded here: Flower Bloomed
Mingyu's nervous anticipation lingered in the air as he rhythmically tapped his finger on the sofa, his other hand guarding his mouth to restrain words he feared might escape. Across the room, Choi Seungcheol remained absorbed in finishing his work, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil brewing within his younger friend.
"I was surprised when I heard you'll be visiting," Seungcheol remarked, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Mingyu's restlessness. Rising from his desk, he joined Mingyu on the sofa, prompting a flicker of hope in the younger man's eyes.
The door creaked open, and Mingyu's gaze snapped toward the entrance, only to be met with disappointment as one of Seungcheol's secretaries entered. A visible trace of frustration clouded Mingyu's expression, realizing he wouldn't see you upon the door's opening, a fact that had fueled his anticipation since stepping into the building.
"Here's your coffee, gentlemen," the secretary politely interjected, placing the cups on the table. Instead of retreating, he cleared his throat, vying for both Seungcheol and Mingyu's attention, though Mingyu sensed the message was primarily for Seungcheol.
"Ms. Ji has informed that she needs a day of rest and may join you tomorrow, sir. I'll be attending today," the secretary conveyed, a hint of formality in his words. Seungcheol's forehead creased with concern, and Mingyu, sensing an underlying tension, couldn't help but wonder about the undisclosed circumstances.
"Why didn't she call me? Is she alright?" Seungcheol's voice held genuine worry, and Mingyu found himself caught in the currents of concern and curiosity, eager to unravel the mystery veiled behind Seungcheol's questioning tone.
"Yes, she's alright. She didn't want to worry you, sir. Please let me know if there's anything you need," the secretary assured, earning a nod from Seungcheol before gracefully exiting the office.
Mingyu, sensing an unspoken weight in the air, couldn't hold back his concern. "What's wrong? What happened to Y/n?"
Seungcheol, his face etched with a sigh, began to unravel the untold tale. "She collapsed an hour before you came."
Mingyu gasped, the news hitting him like a sudden storm. "Is she alright?"
Seungcheol, taking a contemplative sip of his coffee, revealed, "Just like what you heard from Jun earlier. She never takes a day off and barely has any rest. I was worried because she has no one but a roommate."
The revelation gripped Mingyu's attention. "No one? You mean family?"
Seungcheol's furrowed brows hinted at a mystery yet to be unraveled. "I don't know, but she didn't write down her family members on the application form."
Seungcheol swiftly redirected the conversation, his tone revealing a calculated move. "Why are we suddenly talking about my secretary? I know you're here with a reason, right? Is it about the article released yesterday?" Mingyu, caught off guard by the shift, sensed that Seungcheol might be deliberately steering away from the topic of Y/n.
"You've got it pretty bad, my man. That's why you disappeared all of a sudden, huh?" Seungcheol remarked, referring to a photo of Mingyu with a woman at Joshua's birthday party. Mingyu sighed, wearied by the older man's probing questions. "It's almost two months already, but why did the media have to release it right before my company's anniversary?" he lamented, finding solace in finally having an outlet for the frustration that had built up since the article's publication.
"They even wrote 'Kim Group's heir playboy agenda...'" Mingyu paused, attempting to convey his exasperation by showing something on his phone.
Seungcheol stifled a laugh while reading a headline the media had crafted. "Kim Mingyu: a businessman who's ready to sweep your heart. Pfftt.."
Mingyu pocketed his phone, frustration evident in his voice. "I didn't go study business in the States just to be accused as a playboy." The weight of Mingyu's words hung in the air, a mix of pride and frustration as he grappled with the undeserved label imposed by the media.
Seungcheol nodded knowingly. "I know. It was your fault starting that playboy image when you brought actress Kim Huisoo to the Jeon charity ball years ago," he stated matter-of-factly, a fact that sent Mingyu's head spinning.
"I know. I should've clarified that Kim Huisoo is actually a cousin. She doesn't want the public to know she's part of our family," Mingyu sighed, a tinge of regret coloring his words.
Seungcheol, nonchalant, shrugged. "It was a good decision that I only brought Y/n to every event I attended." He continued, "That's why I told you to have a woman as your secretary."
"Not all women are Ji Y/n," Mingyu muttered, rolling his eyes at the older man.
Seungcheol smiled proudly. "That's true."
Mingyu, shifting his posture, finally divulged his true purpose. "Talking about Y/n... I actually came here to meet her." He paused, but before he could elaborate, Seungcheol interjected, "What is it?"
Shaking his head, Mingyu rose from his seat. "I should get going. Are you coming to Wonwoo's after-party tomorrow?" he inquired, leaving Seungcheol in a state of confusion. Despite the lingering questions, Seungcheol could only nod as Mingyu exited his office. The unspoken complexities of Mingyu's visit left Seungcheol pondering, unsure of the full extent of what transpired within those walls.
*
"You must be kidding me, right?" Minseo exclaimed incredulously, throwing her hands in the air as if attempting to physically reject the words that had just escaped your lips. A nervous laughter bubbled up within her, and she desperately clung to the hope that it was all some elaborate joke. "It was a joke, right? Ok, nice one," she managed to say between laughter, offering you a compliment for what inadvertently became an unexpected ab workout from holding back her amusement.
As you gazed at Minseo, a profound calmness settled over you, concealing the internal turmoil that had been brewing since yesterday. Silently, you wished for this surreal revelation to be nothing more than a prank or a bizarre dream. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, prompting a deep sigh as you leaned into the sofa. Fatigue gripped you, and you closed your eyes, seeking a momentary escape from the harsh reality that had unfolded.
Kim Minseo scrutinized your expression, her own heartbeat quickening as the reality of your confession sank in. The gravity of your words was unmistakable, and there was a palpable tension in the air – nothing about this was a joke. The weight of the truth hung heavily between you.
In a surge of disbelief and frustration, Minseo seized your collar, her grip tight and accusatory. "You're crazy?! How could you get pregnant all of a sudden?!" Her words erupted like a storm, echoing through the room as she confronted the unexpected revelation.
You furrowed your brow, a mixture of annoyance and resignation etching your features. "I know. It just happened," you mumbled, attempting to convey the unexpected nature of the situation. However, the mounting tension pushed you to a breaking point, and in a moment of frustration, you pushed Minseo away. The force caused her to stumble, landing on the floor – a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that had unraveled in mere moments. The room now held an uneasy silence, broken only by the echoes of Minseo's shout and the lingering weight of an unforeseen reality.
Minseo swiftly rose from the floor, her urgency palpable as she seized your arm. "Let's go have an abortion!" she declared, the words hanging in the air with a weight you never anticipated coming from her.
Your eyes widened in shock, the gravity of Minseo's suggestion hitting you like a sudden storm. Her unexpected proposal left you speechless, grappling with the reality of the situation. This was a turn of events you hadn't prepared for, and the tension in the room escalated.
"What?" you stammered, the incredulity evident in your voice. The idea of Minseo suggesting such a course of action caught you off guard, unraveling any expectations you might have had.
Minseo locked eyes with you, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "What?" she echoed, seeking a response to her proposal.
Shaking your head, you replied hastily, "I don't have time. I have work to do!" The weight of responsibilities, both unexpected and preexisting, pressed on you, clouding your judgment.
In response, Minseo gasped before tightening her grip on your collar once again. "And you've got time to get knocked?" she retorted, her frustration evident as the confrontation escalated, leaving both of you ensnared in a complex web of emotions and decisions.
Observing your silent turmoil, Minseo released a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of understanding. Her eyes softened as she settled beside you, gently taking hold of your hand in a gesture of support. "How long is it?" she inquired, her tone filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
You turned your head to meet her gaze, the vulnerability in your eyes reflecting the reality of the situation. "5 weeks," you revealed, the weight of those weeks palpable in the heaviness of the air.
A nervous edge crept into Minseo's voice as she broached a sensitive question, "Do you know the father?" Her inquiry hung in the air, the uncertainty adding an extra layer of tension to the conversation.
Closing your eyes, you hesitated, reluctant to delve into that particular topic just yet. Instead, you nodded, your acknowledgment accompanied by a flood of memories from the night in question. Regret washed over you as you raised your hands to cover your face. Rather than succumbing to sadness, embarrassment swept over you like an overwhelming wave, adding a complex layer to the emotional tapestry that unfolded. The room, once charged with confrontation, now held a delicate atmosphere of shared vulnerability and unspoken understanding.
The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, and you couldn't escape the realization that it was a mere drunken mistake – a wishful thinking that somehow the alcohol had clouded the events of that night. However, clarity hit hard as you acknowledged that you were a hundred percent sober, the memories of that regrettable night etched vividly in your mind. A part of you yearned for him to forget, yet another part wished he would remember.
"Noooo!" The exclamation escaped your lips as you kicked your leg into the air, a spontaneous outburst that startled Minseo, sitting beside you and absorbing the rollercoaster of emotions.a
Minseo, with a careful tone, sought to understand the complexity of the situation. "It's not just a random person you met at a club or something, right? The father?" she asked, delicately navigating the sensitive terrain.
"It'll be better," you mumbled in response, a quiet plea for understanding. The weight of the truth and the potential consequences loomed large, creating a web of conflicting emotions that both bound and divided you in this unexpected journey.
Minseo's palm met her forehead in an exasperated gesture. "Okay!" she declared as she rose from her seat, pointing a finger at you to emphasize the undeniable fact – you were five weeks pregnant. The weight of the revelation settled in the room as she continued, "And I'm going to fly to the States for study in three days."
A cloud of guilt seemed to shadow her expression as she posed a poignant question. "Are you okay with me leaving you?" The concern in her eyes was evident, a reflection of the dilemma she found herself in.
You nodded reassuringly, "Yeah, don't worry. It's not like my entire life would change," you offered, attempting to alleviate Minseo's concerns and downplay the upheaval that lay ahead.
"Should I delay my study and help you instead?" Minseo queried, raising a brow in consideration.
In response, you playfully threw a pillow in her direction, the well-aimed hit prompting a light chuckle. "No way! You worked hard for this. You should go," you insisted, appreciating her ambitions and refusing to be the reason for any detour.
"It's not like it's my first time living alone," you added, attempting to underscore your self-sufficiency despite the unexpected circumstances. Minseo observed you, her worry evident as she mumbled, "But you're pregnant."
Standing up, you prepared to retreat to your room, asserting, "It's just pregnancy, Minseo. I'll get used to it. Don't worry," leaving a lingering reassurance in the air as you walked to your room. You definitely need time to process this.
*
As you strolled towards the office, Seungcheol abruptly halted and called your attention, snapping you out of the daydream that had seemingly captivated your thoughts since morning.
"Are you okay? Do you need a day off?" he inquired, observing your startled expression. You shook your head, offering your usual smile. "I'm good, sir. Just lost in thought. I apologize," you said, motioning for him to resume the journey to his office.
"What did the hospital say about your condition yesterday? I hope it's nothing that's causing you to be distracted today," he remarked, a mix of jest and genuine concern in his tone. Clearing your throat, you reassured him, "i'm fine, sir. Just exhaustion. I rested well yesterday," you explained.
Once the two of you arrived in front of his office, he paused, refraining from entering immediately. Turning towards you, he hesitated for a moment before extending an invitation, "Can you accompany me for my schedule tonight? Just until the after party."
Nodding in acknowledgment, you took note of this favor, "Do you want me to come in a suit or a dress, sir?" It was a routine question, one you always posed whenever the same agenda surfaced.
"Dress, please. Even though it's Wonwoo's birthday, you know how the Jeons are with their events," he replied, a subtle reminder of the grandeur and regality that often accompanied gatherings hosted by the Jeon family.
As you nodded and respectfully bowed, returning to your desk, Seungcheol unexpectedly swung his office door open once again, prompting you to turn your head towards him.
"Yes, sir?" you inquired, noticing the furrow on Seungcheol's brow.
"Mingyu was looking for you yesterday. Do you have business with him that I don't know about?" he questioned, his tone reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern.
Caught off guard, you paused for a moment before nervously responding, "He might want to confront me for a mistake I made last week. I mistakenly scheduled a meeting with him earlier than intended." The unexpected visit from the heir of Kim Group, CEO Kim FnB, Kim Mingyu, still surprised you.
Raising an eyebrow, Seungcheol pressed further, "Why does he have to confront you himself?"
You shrugged, replying, "Mr. Yoon was like that as well," referencing Jeonghan, Seungcheol's friend who often interacted with you in a friendly manner.
Seungcheol sighed, expressing his concern, "Please tell me immediately if the boys bother you next time," his words carried a protective tone, a reminder of the tight-knit group of friends you had become acquainted with through your association with him.
As you nodded in acknowledgment, gratitude laced your words, "Yes, sir... Thank you so much." Seungcheol reciprocated the nod before gently closing the door, leaving you alone at your desk.
A heavy breath of relief escaped you as you contemplated why Kim Mingyu sought you out. Did he remember? You shook your head, recalling that he seemed oblivious that night, likely due to intoxication. If only you hadn't approached him at the bar and engaged in conversation.
To shake off the lingering thoughts, you resorted to a series of self-slaps to regain focus. There was a pile of work, emails to send, and phone calls to make. Distractions happened, but you were determined to get back on track.
Just as you were settling into your tasks, a phone call from Minseo interrupted your concentration. Her urgent tone conveyed a sense of distress. "Ji Y/n, what am I gonna do? My course starts earlier than I expected, and I have to fly to the States by tonight," she explained, painting a picture of her predicament.
"Really? But I have a schedule tonight; I can't come to the airport," you replied, glancing at your itinerary, which indicated the after party starting at 11. A brief moment of realization hit you; that was the time you'd be free.
"It's okay. Please make sure that you call me if anything happens, okay? I'm in the middle of packing!" Minseo requested, seeking reassurance.
"Hmm... Take care," you replied, the weight of conflicting priorities settling in.
*
"Mr. Bae Inhyeon, President of Gubbae Electronic, at 12 o'clock," you whispered to Seungcheol, trailing a few inches behind him. Seungcheol's grin widened, and he raised his hand in a welcoming gesture towards Bae Inhyeon. You followed suit, offering a polite bow as Seungcheol introduced you as his dedicated secretary.
Not even ten minutes had passed since you and Seungcheol arrived, yet the room buzzed with excitement as everyone eagerly anticipated meeting Seungcheol, the formidable contender for the future presidency of Choi Corp. With a subtle finesse, you discreetly shared the names of those who greeted him, offering hushed insights behind his back. Your role extended beyond mere administrative duties; you navigated the intricate web of industry relationships with adept skill.
As the interactions unfolded, you observed the dynamics at play, blending seamlessly into the background while subtly influencing the course of conversations. The air was charged with ambition and anticipation, a palpable energy that hinted at the high stakes involved in the corporate world. Your commitment to understanding the industry's players proved invaluable as you seamlessly assisted Seungcheol in navigating the intricate social fabric of business engagements. In this fast-paced environment, your keen awareness and discreet gestures spoke volumes about your competency as a secretary.
After exchanging pleasantries with the gathering, Seungcheol made his way to Wonwoo, the man of the hour celebrating his birthday. With a subtle motion, he indicated for you to enjoy the impending festivities, as the ceremony for the launch of Wonwoo's entertainment label was about to commence.
Taking advantage of the brief moment, you excused yourself and navigated toward the restroom, intent on a quick check of your appearance. Inside, you found two women engaged in a lively conversation, their camaraderie evident.
As you eavesdropped on their discussion, it became apparent that they were the "plus one", well-versed in the dynamics of the industry. The woman in the black dress remarked enthusiastically, "Did you see Kim Mingyu entering the ballroom? This place lit up."
Her companion, while reapplying lipstick, nodded with a knowing smile. "He's a fine man, and he's still young. What do you expect from a conglomerate?"
The black dress woman chuckled, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. "However, he's a womanizer, do you know that?" she revealed.
The woman in the yellow dress responded with a teasing tone, "With that look, he couldn't not be one. If my daddy ever grows tired of me, I might just throw myself at him."
A sigh escaped your lips as you turned your head towards the animated conversation. "Excuse me, Daddy's babies. Could you lower your voices a bit? Thanks," you calmly requested, punctuating the statement with a corporate smile that concealed any underlying irritation.
They scrutinized you from head to toe, skepticism evident in their eyes. One of them, with a hint of disdain, asked, "Who are you? It doesn't seem like you're part of their circle. Are you also a mistress?" Laughter ensued from both, the echoes of their amusement resonating within the restroom.
Undeterred, you gracefully walked away. Just before reaching the exit, you turned your body and retorted, "Do I look like one of you guys? Stop joking!" The playful remark carried a touch of assertiveness as you left the restroom, leaving behind the lingering traces of your unyielding self-assurance.
The ceremony had yet to begin, and as you wandered around the ballroom, Seungcheol appeared to relish his newfound freedom in your absence. Determined to locate him, you scanned the crowd for his familiar figure.
Amidst your search, a man approached, introducing himself as Lee Jaewook. "You might know me from my father, Lee Daeyong, of Daeyong Finance," he stated confidentially, handing you a glass of wine.
"What's your name, lady?"
Politely accepting the glass, you replied, "Ji Y/n."
His admission continued, "I've seen you around sometimes, but I never dared to approach you."
Nodding graciously, you offered a warm smile. "I appreciate that. I'm engaged," you revealed, lifting your hand to showcase the engagement ring you always wore to events—a precautionary measure suggested by Seungcheol. The ring had been carefully chosen and purchased by him.
Jaewook appeared taken aback, inquiring, "Are you with your fiance then? May I know him?" Before you could utter a response, a hand slipped around your waist, catching you off guard. Turning, you found Kim Mingyu with a smile that seemed to hold secrets shared between them and extended to Jaewook.
"I've been looking for you," Mingyu remarked softly, his words carrying a certain ambiguity. Confusion etched across your face as you regarded him, but any questions were silenced as he whispered into your ear, "Just play with me."
"Kim Mingyu, I didn't know you had such a beautiful fiancée," Lee Jaewook remarked, a touch of admiration in his voice. Mingyu responded with a charming smile, acknowledging the compliment, "Yeah, it's not easy to have a beautiful fiancée and try to keep her away from some foxy eyes around. Right, Lee Jaewook?" He took the glass of wine from your hand, sipping it casually as if to emphasize his point.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, wondering about Mingyu's unexpected playfulness. It was a departure from the composed and mysterious demeanor he had displayed earlier. As Lee Jaewook smiled and excused himself, stating, "I should go. See you later, you two," you couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of intrigue and uncertainty.
As Lee Jaewook departed, you seized the opportunity, releasing a fake cough to capture Mingyu's attention. He promptly withdrew his hand from your waist into his pocket, meeting your gaze with a hint of amusement. "Not even a thanks?" he teased, his tone carrying a playful edge.
You sighed, offering a gracious smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Kim." Intent on continuing your quest to find your boss, you began to move away, but Mingyu unexpectedly grasped your arm, halting your departure. "I think we have something to discuss."
Tilting your head skeptically, you mumbled, "I don't think so," though your heart betrayed you with a subtle flutter. Mingyu leaned in, his hand tracing your left arm as he whispered, "Even you wear the same bracelet as that night." The revelation caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, a rapid exhale betraying your flustered state.
A stroke of luck intervened as you caught sight of Seungcheol seated at his table with friends Jeonghan and Joshua. Turning to Mingyu, still playfully smiling, you seized the moment. "Let's talk tomorrow at lunch," you asserted before walking away, leaving behind a tantalizing air of mystery and a perplexed Kim Mingyu. The ballroom continued to buzz with anticipation, but your focus had shifted, promising a lunchtime rendezvous filled with unanswered questions and hidden intrigues.
*
Mingyu carefully placed your order on the table, his discomfort apparent as he kept a watchful eye on the surroundings—ever mindful of maintaining a low profile in the presence of college students. Taking your sandwich, you remarked, "No one knows you here," alluding to the anonymity offered by the casual crowd.
Sitting across from you, Mingyu sighed, his gaze fixated on you as you began to eat. A playful smile crept onto his cheeks as he teased, "Slow down, Seungcheol hyung must have starved you, right?"
You shook your head, replying, "I've been wanting this," prompting a chuckle from Mingyu.
While you effortlessly devoured your sandwich, you noticed Mingyu hadn't taken a single bite of his. A trace of guilt flickered across your face, leading you to apologize, "Sorry, is it not to your liking?" His soft laughter followed, leaving you puzzled.
"Why are you laughing?" you inquired, furrowing your brows.
Mingyu shook his head, "No, it's just... I like it," he confessed, his smile genuine.
Curiosity piqued, you casually asked, sipping your orange juice, "What do you like?"
His response caught you off guard, "I like how you're so casual when it's only the two of us."
The unexpected revelation caused you to halt mid-sip, setting the stage for a moment of candid connection amid the backdrop of a quiet lunchtime rendezvous. The air hung with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as you navigated the uncharted territory of personal interaction with Kim Mingyu.
"Never in my life did I think I would have the chance to talk to you until you approached me at the bar," Mingyu began, his words carrying a tinge of vulnerability. "We talked about a lot of things, right? I remembered them all. I also remember... Hmm... What happened next," he nervously confessed.
Your nod signaled acknowledgment, but you found yourself at a loss for words. Mingyu's next statement caught you off guard, "I want to know your feelings about me," he admitted, leaving you slightly taken aback.
Raising your brow, you responded almost whisperingly, "My feelings?" Mingyu nodded earnestly, revealing, "Because I don't resent everything that happened that night. On the contrary, I found it profound."
A pregnant pause hung in the air as you processed his unexpected confession. Finally, you let out a soft chuckle, breaking the tension, "I didn't expect this, Mr. Kim. I mean, it's not very much like how you are portrayed. Your image... is not very much sentimental like this."
Mingyu nodded, "I know, but this is who I am," he explained, his sincerity evident. You released a sigh, leaning back in your chair. Your gaze fixed on him, and you adjusted your posture before expressing, "I don't do romance, Mr. Kim. Honestly, I don't know how to do that. And you know how I'm almost married to my work as Mr. Choi's secretary. I—"
Mingyu quickly nodded, understanding the complexities of your professional life. "Yeah, I understand. I won't rush you. I just want to let you know about my feelings after that night. I'll wait for your answer; take your time," he interjected, cutting through your explanation to emphasize his genuine intention.
You nodded slowly, a quiet acknowledgment of his understanding. "Thanks..." you mumbled, your gratitude mingling with a sense of contemplation.
"And please," Mingyu paused, his eyes holding a plea, "don't avoid me from this time." The request hung in the air, underscoring the vulnerability of the moment.
The encounter with Mingyu left your thoughts in disarray, making it challenging to concentrate on your work. Even Seungcheol's calls failed to pull you out of the daydream that enveloped your mind. Concerned about your well-being after your recent collapse, Seungcheol insisted you leave on time, assuring you that Jun would take care of his needs.
Reluctantly, you took the bus home. As you walked from the bus stop to your shared apartment with Minseo, another sigh escaped your lips. The absence of Minseo for the next two months strangely saddened you, a departure from your usual contentment with solitude.
You never disliked the moments of solitude, relishing the times when you could come home and find Minseo absent. Cooking a delicious meal for her, anticipating her return around 9 while you were immersed in work preparations, and going to bed by 10 had become a comforting routine. However, the sudden longing for Minseo highlighted a void that even the familiarity of solitude couldn't fill.
Your phone rang, and a smile lit up your face when you saw Minseo's name on the caller ID. Greeting her with enthusiasm, you were met with Minseo's melodramatic tone, "What's up with your voice? You're not happy I'm calling you?"
Chuckling softly, you replied, "It's not like that. Just... tired."
Minseo, always quick with her teasing, inquired about the baby. Confused, you questioned, "What's with the baby?"
With an eye roll you could almost feel through the phone, Minseo clarified, "Your baby! The baby inside you... How are they doin'?"
"As tired as their mom," you playfully responded, earning a laugh from Minseo. She then delved into the topic of keeping the baby, referencing her suggestion, to get an abortion. Swiftly dismissing the idea, you explained, "No! I heard it's hurting and takes time to recover. I don't—"
Minseo interrupted with a humorous impersonation, "I don't have time, I have works to do. Bla-bla-bla..." Her words made you laugh.
Regarding the father, you admitted to talking to him but hesitated to share the news. Minseo expressed concern, urging you not to keep the situation from him. However, you confessed, "I just think I don't need him in the frame. You know what I mean."
Concerned, Minseo probed, "But are you gonna be okay with that?" A pregnant pause followed as you contemplated the question, questioning your own feelings about having the baby.
"I don't know. Should I go with your suggestion instead?" you asked, prompting Minseo's playful screams.
"I was just joking! But... I support whatever you decide, Y/n. Just tell me first," Minseo reassured.
As you arrived at your apartment building, you concluded the call, promising to keep Minseo updated. The weight of the decisions ahead lingered, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of the future.
*
Feeling unexpectedly unwell, you woke up with a fever four days later. Quickly, you informed Jun and Seungcheol about the situation through messages, indicating the possibility of taking a day off. Seungcheol, concerned for your well-being, immediately called and offered to take you to the doctor or send one to your house. Politely declining, you assured him that a paracetamol might alleviate the fever.
Throughout the day, you remained in bed, the passage of time marked by your fitful sleep. The darkness outside hinted at the advancing evening, but your fever persisted, accompanied by bouts of nausea. Realizing you hadn't eaten since last night's simple ramen, you mustered the strength to walk to the kitchen.
Dizziness accompanied every step as you prepared another pack of ramen on the stove. Approaching the dinner table where your phone lay, you noticed a barrage of notifications that had accumulated since you turned it off in the morning. Just as you contemplated checking them, a phone call interrupted, and it was Minseo on the line.
Weakly greeting Minseo, you sensed the surprise in her voice as she questioned your well-being. Admitting, "I can't reach you all day. You okay, Y/n?" you confessed, "No... I feel about to faint."
Minseo's voice filled with concern as she pressed for details, "Hey... What's wrong?" The line remained silent as she called out your name repeatedly, growing increasingly anxious.
The lack of response heightened Minseo's panic, a situation she dreaded when leaving you alone. Despite your usual resilience, your occasional bouts of sickness always managed to evoke worry in her. She understood the contrasts in your persona – the organized, straight, and ideal image you presented to the world, counterbalanced by the underlying quirks of your clumsiness and forgetfulness. It was these very qualities that fueled your meticulous note-taking and organizational skills, making you an exceptional secretary.
Minseo, feeling the urgency of the situation, contemplated making a crucial phone call. Aware that something dangerous might transpire if she remained passive, she considered potential contacts. Mr. Park, her father's driver, was quickly dismissed as he was occupied attending to her father. Mr. Seo, her mother's assistant, was also ruled out, as informing him would inevitably reach her mother, who was unaware of Minseo's current location in the States.
Her thoughts turned to her brother. Trusting him implicitly, Minseo decided to call him. Dialing his number, she anxiously waited, relieved when he picked up after only a moment. The connection established, she began to share the concerning situation unfolding with you.
A playful voice greeted Minseo's call, "What is it, Kim Minseo?"
Panicking, Minseo quickly explained, "Oppa, help me! My friend is sick at the moment. And I think she's collapsed in the middle of a phone call!"
There was a pause for seconds before her brother responded, "And then?"
"She's in my apartment; she's my roommate. Can you come and see her? I just wanna know if she's fine," Minseo requested, making a favor to her brother.
She heard him sigh, "Why don't you check her yourself?"
"I'm not in Korea! I'm in the States," Minseo forcefully admitted. "Don't tell anyone."
Curiosity piqued, her brother pressed, "Why are you there? Tell me first!"
Minseo sighed, "I'll tell you later. Please come to my apartment first. Please! Please..."
"Alright, send me the location and details," he finally agreed, the concern evident in his voice.
*
As Mingyu sighed after ending the call with his younger sister, he signaled his secretary to drive to her apartment first. In the car, he muttered, "She only calls me if she needs anything."
Observing the situation, Mr. Song inquired, "Is it your sister?" Mingyu nodded in confirmation.
"She wants me to check on her friend. I'm a busy person; why doesn't she ask one of her friends?" Mingyu found the request somewhat perplexing.
Deciding to comply, he turned to Mr. Song, "Can you accompany me, Mr. Song? I don't think it'll be appropriate if I'm the only one who goes into the apartment."
Fortunately, the drive took only 15 minutes, as Mingyu was in the nearby area. Once they arrived, Mingyu scrutinized the details his sister had sent, leading them to the 8th floor and apartment number 802. Entering the elevator, Mingyu and Mr. Song ascended to the designated floor.
Arriving on the intended floor, Mingyu and Mr. Song were met with an unexpected aroma of smoke that hung in the air. Mr. Song astutely noticed wisps of smoke escaping from the door of apartment 802.
"Mr. Kim, there's smoke from inside," he urgently alerted Mingyu.
Worried, Mingyu swiftly called Minseo, urgently seeking the passcode. "Is your friend cooking something? There's smoke from inside," he conveyed the developing situation to his sister.
After Mr. Song adeptly opened the door, Mingyu concluded the phone call and entered the apartment. Smoke engulfed them, prompting both Mingyu and Mr. Song to shield their mouths and noses. The room was shrouded in a haze as they cautiously proceeded further inside.
Reacting quickly, Mr. Song rushed to the intercom, activating the smoke detection features. A cascade of water descended from the ceiling, effectively extinguishing the smoke. Simultaneously, Mingyu focused on locating Minseo's friend, while Mr. Song skillfully handled the kitchen fire with an extinguisher.
In a moment of shocking revelation, Mingyu discovered a familiar figure lying weakly on the floor. The unexpected sight heightened the urgency of the situation.
Mingyu's heartbeat seemed to halt for a moment as he realized it was you lying weakly on the floor. Shock and concern painted his features as he swiftly assessed the situation.
"Y/n!" he exclaimed, his worry evident as he helped you navigate through the smoke-filled room. The urgency to get you to safety propelled Mingyu into action.
As the commotion in the apartment drew attention, assistance was summoned to the building. Mingyu carefully supported your weakened body, guiding you towards the paramedics who had arrived on the scene. The gravity of the situation was palpable, and Mingyu's focus remained steadfast on ensuring your well-being.
With a sense of urgency, Mingyu handed you over to the waiting paramedics, who quickly took charge, assessing your condition and providing the necessary care. The atmosphere around the apartment building buzzed with a blend of concern and the organized efforts of those responding to the emergency.
Mingyu, visibly distressed, trailed alongside the paramedics as they transported you to the hospital. Concern etched across his face, he couldn't shake off the worry that had gripped him since discovering you in the smoke-filled apartment.
Meanwhile, Mr. Song took it upon himself to retrieve some essentials for Mingyu. Understanding the need for a change of clothes, he swiftly headed to gather necessary items from Mingyu's residence.
At the hospital, Mingyu anxiously waited by your side as the medical team attended to your needs. The sterile environment of the emergency room seemed to amplify the tension in the air. Mingyu's mind raced with thoughts of your well-being, the unexpected turn of events leaving him grappling with a mixture of anxiety and a fervent hope for your recovery.
As the medical staff worked to stabilize you, Mingyu clung to the hope that the prompt medical attention would bring about positive results. The waiting room became a sanctuary of anticipation, each passing moment laden with the weight of uncertainty.
Mingyu, now clad in fresh and dry clothes, had made the call to Seungcheol, your boss, updating him about your condition. Seungcheol, concerned for his secretary, immediately rushed to the hospital.
In the interim, Mingyu instructed Mr. Song to go home, assuring him that he would wait for any updates on your condition. The hospital room became a temporary haven for Mingyu, a place where the weight of worry and the desire for your recovery lingered.
As Seungcheol entered the room, he looked at Mingyu, his face a mirror of concern. "How did you find her?" Seungcheol inquired, seeking details about the situation.
"My sister called for help; she's her roommate," Mingyu explained, still overwhelmed with the relevance of the events that had unfolded. The anticipation in the room heightened as they waited for the doctor to arrive and shed light on your condition. The air was thick with a sense of urgency and concern, Seungcheol's presence serving as a testament to the tight-knit nature of the professional relationships that had become entwined with personal care and worry.
The doctor entered the room, and a hushed silence fell upon Mingyu and Seungcheol, their eyes locked on the medical professional who held the key to understanding your condition. The doctor, with a composed demeanor, began to detail the situation, "Her lungs were filled with smoke, and we've cleared it. However, recovery will take time, and we recommend several medical check-ups to monitor her progress."
A solemn nod from Mingyu and Seungcheol acknowledged the gravity of the situation. However, the atmosphere shifted when the doctor broached the subject of your pregnancy. "The baby is fine," the doctor reassured, but then added, "Careful body maintenance is crucial, especially in the delicate first trimester, which poses potential risks."
Mingyu and Seungcheol exchanged a bewildered glance, the revelation about your pregnancy catching them off guard. The unspoken tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unexpected responsibilities settled upon their shoulders.
Surprised by this new information, the doctor, unaware of the dynamics between Mingyu and Seungcheol, inquired about the father. The question hung in the air, adding a layer of complexity to an already intricate situation. "I apologize for having to announce the situation this way," the doctor offered, sensing the discomfort in the room.
As the doctor conducted a few more checks, a conversation ensued between Mingyu and Seungcheol, attempting to process the unforeseen turn of events. Mingyu's voice carried a mix of astonishment and concern, "I had no idea."
Seungcheol, still processing the information, responded with a solemn nod, "Me neither."
The doctor, having fulfilled their medical duties, left the room, leaving Mingyu and Seungcheol to grapple with the newfound realities.
"I don't know Y/n has boyfriend." Seungcheol said as he turned his head toward Mingyu. Meanwhile Mingyu only could stand still in silence. Contemplating everything that has happened.
*
"Yeah, she's fine. I promised I'll take care of her. Just make sure you tell Mom soon that you're not in Korea," Mingyu reassured his sister over the phone, updating her on your condition.
Mingyu settled onto the sofa in your room, patiently awaiting the moment you'd regain consciousness. The clock mercilessly ticked away, indicating the wee hours of the morning – 3 am. Fatigue tugged at him; Mr. Song and Seungcheol had returned home hours ago. Still, Mingyu couldn't bring himself to leave your side after discovering the truth about your condition – the possibility of you carrying his child.
As he sat there, a mix of concern and anticipation played across Mingyu's face, his fatigue overshadowed by a sense of responsibility and newfound realization. The room held a quiet tension, disrupted only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock.
Mingyu found himself reflecting on the recent conversation with Seungcheol regarding your love life. Seungcheol had candidly admitted that, despite working closely for nearly five years, you never divulged any details about a boyfriend or romantic partner. This revelation was particularly striking, considering your previous role as his father's secretary. Mingyu's thoughts were further compounded by your recent statement that you were not one for romance, leading him to consider the possibility that he might be the only one who had shared intimate moments with you.
A heavy sigh escaped Mingyu as he contemplated his own admission. If he were to be honest, his sentiments mirrored yours. As the CEO, the weight of significant responsibilities for the company and its staff often overwhelmed him. Despite his parents attempting to arrange matches with various conglomerate daughters, none had piqued his interest. Mingyu's sister, ever the worrier, had chosen a different path, steering clear of the family business to pursue a culinary career.
In the quiet of the room, Mingyu grappled with the complexities of his life. The burden of expectations, both familial and professional, weighed heavily on him. His fatigue was not only physical but also carried the weight of emotional fatigue, a longing for something more than the orchestrated connections and societal expectations that surrounded him.
The memory of that pivotal night at Joshua's party flooded back to him. Mingyu recalled the details vividly – you in a sleek black dress, the distinct order you placed at the bar, the subtle grace with which you caught the bartender's attention. And then, there was that moment when you turned your head towards him, inquiring with a simple yet impactful, "How's life, Mr. Kim?" It was a question that had lingered in Mingyu's mind, offering a glimpse of connection and a departure from the orchestrated rhythm of his existence.
Mingyu couldn't help but let out a chuckle, finding himself at a loss for words in response to a question he rarely encountered. "How's life?" he mused internally.
"I don't know, how's yours?" he finally replied to your query, intrigued by the unexpected turn of conversation.
You nonchalantly shrugged and took a sip of your orange juice. "Great... Have to deal with a lot of work. But that's how life's supposed to be, right?" you remarked casually, and Mingyu felt a surprising sense of ease in conversing with you.
As the dialogue unfolded, Mingyu discovered a different side to you. You, who had garnered popularity among his friends, received commendation from Seungcheol for your efficiency as a secretary. Jeonghan and Seokmin, both directors in Seungcheol's company, couldn't stop praising your appearance. To them, it seemed like a waste for someone with your looks to be confined to the role of a secretary. Mingyu, too, was now realizing this as he observed the expression on your face while you responded to the questions he posed. Your answers resonated with him, and the realization sparked a connection that transcended the superficiality of social expectations.
Mingyu's alcohol tolerance had always been high, and he vividly recalled urging you to step outside for some fresh air that night. Amidst the ambient glow near the pool and beneath a palm tree, he found himself whispering compliments about your striking appearance. That innocent exchange led to a shared first kiss, and what began with a kiss soon escalated into something more dangerously intimate. Mingyu, fueled by alcohol, surrendered to the lack of control, embracing the pleasure rather than resenting it. In the haze of the night, he anticipated more with you.
However, the harsh light of morning revealed a stark reality – he was left alone. Cold and isolated, Mingyu attempted to reach out, but you remained elusive, even through Mr. Song. He sought you out at Seungcheol's company, only to discover that you were avoiding him. It wasn't until Wonwoo's birthday that he could finally confront you.
In the midst of that confrontation, Mingyu grappled with unexpected emotions. It dawned on him that what he felt for you transcended the physical, extending beyond mere desire. Through your words, your thoughts, and the passionate expression of your opinions that night, Mingyu realized he had encountered a connection that went beyond the surface – a romantic sentiment.
As the weight of the situation pressed on him, Mingyu confronted a profound question. Was it a sin to consider that the baby you were carrying might be his? The uncertainty hung in the air, a heavy burden that only intensified the emotional turbulence within Mingyu.
"You're awake," Mingyu uttered softly as you slowly opened your eyes, a series of coughs escaping you. Concern etched across his face, Mingyu promptly summoned the doctor to attend to your needs. With a watchful eye, he observed your reactions as the doctor provided an explanation of your condition. A glimmer of hope flickered in Mingyu's gaze when your eyes briefly met his during the mention of your baby's condition.
Once the doctor concluded their visit, Mingyu pulled a chair close to your bedside. "How's your feeling?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern.
You released a heavy sigh before confessing, "I was cooking ramen." Mingyu nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the mundane details that led to your current state. "And it burned your apartment as you collapsed. Your fever has gone down though," he added, checking your temperature and tenderly placing his hand on your forehead.
"Mr. Kim, please stop," you urged, puzzled by the revelation that Mingyu was the one who saved you and brought you to the hospital in the nick of time. "How do you even know my address?" confusion laced your inquiry.
Mingyu, lips tightened, began to explain, "Kim Minseo called me to help his friend. She's... my sister." His nervous explanation hung in the air, leaving a palpable tension as he struggled to find the right words.
A silent gasp escaped you as you connected the dots, realizing the familial connection between Mingyu and your friend Minseo. Mingyu's gaze scrutinized your expression before delicately broaching the topic of the baby. "Do you know that you're expecting?" he cautiously inquired, and you nodded in confirmation.
"A week ago. A day before Mr. Jeon's birthday party," you revealed, answering Mingyu's unspoken question.
Mingyu took a deep breath, "is it mine?" He finally asked.
A prolonged silence hung in the air as you gazed into Mingyu's eyes. The hospital room seemed to hold its breath, the only audible sounds being the hum of medical equipment and distant footsteps. Breaking the stillness, you shook your head quickly and uttered, "It's mine," diverting your eyes elsewhere.
Mingyu released a heavy exhale, his confusion palpable. "It's mine, right?" he pressed again, seeking confirmation and clarity.
In response, you gently urged him to leave. "You should go, Mr. Kim. You must be exhausted, and you have work this morning. Thank you for your kindness," you murmured, closing your eyes as if to feign rest.
*
As you were discharged from the hospital, a familiar face caught your attention. Wi Seunghyun, your mother's secretary, gestured for you to join him in the waiting car. In silence, you complied, feeling the weight of the gaze that had been following you for months now. The realization of the observer's identity finally dawned on you.
Seunghyun drove you to your parent's house, the journey feeling interminable. Exhaustion clung to you, but nervous anticipation kept your eyes wide open. The looming entrance into the house held the promise of confrontations and revelations. You couldn't help but wonder about your mother's reaction upon learning about your condition.
Upon entering the family room, Seunghyun placed your hospital bag as your mother rose from her seat. Instead of the expected embrace that usually accompanied such news, a hard slap resonated through the room, nearly sending you to the floor. The sting of the unexpected physical blow mirrored the emotional shock of your mother's harsh response, creating a tense and disheartening atmosphere.
"How could you be more stupid, Ji Y/n? Getting pregnant before married? Are you some kind of whore?" Your mother, Sung Yaeun, delivered a harsh commentary on your situation, the biting words cutting through the air after months of not seeing each other.
"You've burned your apartment, gone homeless, and pregnant. You only come home every time you're in trouble," she continued, her words carrying a tone of disappointment and frustration as she moved away to sit on the sofa.
"Mr. Wi, please lock her in her room. Make sure no one could meet her unless by my instruction," she commanded, and without hesitation, Mr. Wi complied, tightening his grip on your arm. As your mother's orders were executed, you found yourself silently following Mr. Wi to your room, watching as you were locked in from the outside, isolated in the familiar yet unwelcoming confines of your old room.
The weight of your mother's harsh words and the physical confinement left you frozen, grappling with the harsh reality of your current predicament. The room, once a place of solace, now felt like a prison, amplifying the emotional turmoil within you.
Returning to this room after almost 10 years, you sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and sorrow escaping you as your body leaned against the door. The realization of the gravity of the situation hit you, and silent tears streamed down your face.
The memories of the last time you were in this house surfaced – the day your father passed away. Locked away and denied the chance to bid your father farewell, you had been blamed for his death by your mother. This confinement, the echoes of past injustices, resonated with the pain you thought you had left behind.
The recollection of being locked away and unjustly accused of your father's death brought forth a flood of emotions. Despite the passing years, the wounds remained fresh. The recognition that you didn't deserve the treatment meted out by your mother – the isolation, the starvation – washed over you. It wasn't the first time you had experienced being locked away, but now, you understood you didn't deserve it.
Escaping to your former nanny's house had been your refuge, a sanctuary where you completed your education and found a way to stand on your own. Working as Seungcheol's dad's secretary marked a turning point, allowing you to secure your own place and break free from the shackles of your past. Yet, the return to this house served as a stark reminder of the pain you had endured and the strength it took to overcome it.
From childhood, you grappled with the perplexing mystery of your mother's disdain. Her treatment was marked by physical abuse, emotional neglect, and an unsettling abandonment of your presence. Your father, blinded by allegiance, justified her actions under the guise of it being for your own good. Yet, amidst the turmoil, you slowly comprehended that love was an elusive sentiment within the confines of your home. The only solace you found was in the embrace of your nanny, Gam Mijoo, who became the beacon of warmth and care you craved.
As time unfolded, you began treating Mijoo as a surrogate parent, finding the love and nurturing that had eluded you elsewhere. However, the cruel hands of fate intervened when she passed away during your college years, succumbing to a heart attack.
Locked away in your childhood home, memories of Mijoo's comforting presence fueled your resilience. Despite the pain, you vowed to provide a different life for your unborn child, one filled with love and understanding.
*
A week had passed, and Mingyu found himself seated in front of his parents after a month, attempting to salvage their weekly dinners that had turned sporadic due to his demanding schedule. Amidst the shared meal, his father dropped an unexpected bombshell, leaving not only Mingyu but also his mother visibly stunned.
Mingyu's mother's voice rose to an uncharacteristic pitch, "What?!"
"Daeyoung suddenly came and congratulated me for your engagement. So, I was wondering if you finally found a girl you want to marry," his father revealed, triggering a heavy sigh from Mingyu. Lee Jaewook, the scoundrel.
The air thickened with tension as Mingyu grappled with the unforeseen revelation, and a mixture of disbelief and frustration played across his mother's face.
"So the woman from the article weeks ago. It was her? Your fiancée?" Mingyu's mother suddenly bombarded him with questions, referring to a photo taken while Mingyu was escorting you to his hotel room on the night of Joshua's birthday. Fortunately, they had blurred your face, only his was visible.
"Let's not talk about that," Mingyu said, attempting to halt his parents' interrogation.
His mother scoffed, "Why? We should talk about this! How dare you have an engagement without involving us. Is that a trend among youth nowadays?" Mingyu's father nodded in agreement, intensifying Mingyu's fatigue as he grappled with what response to give his parents.
"So, who's the girl? When can we meet her?" His father asked with curiosity, leaning in for answers.
Mingyu, caught off guard, shrugged, hesitating to provide an immediate response. "Answer your father, Kim Mingyu," urged his mother, her tone demanding clarity.
Sighing, Mingyu mumbled, "She's busy," buying himself time to consider his next words.
Mingyu's mother's eyes sparkled with curiosity, "Is she finishing her study abroad so that she can't meet us as soon as possible?" she guessed, eager for details. However, Mingyu shook his head, revealing a different truth.
"She's Seungcheol's secretary," Mingyu confessed, the weight of the revelation settling in the room.
Mingyu's father furrowed his brows, questioning, "You're in a relationship with a subordinate? Is she from a conglomerate?" The inquiry sent a wave of nervous tension through Mingyu as he grappled with the potential implications of his choices.
Mingyu shook his head, trying to maintain a facade of calmness. "She's an ordinary staff," he stated, a hint of defiance in his voice.
His mother gasped, "No! Your grandfather won't let you become the heir if you don't marry a conglomerate," she mumbled, a sense of family expectations weighing heavily on the conversation.
Rolling his eyes, Mingyu asserted, "I won't marry a spoiled conglomerate daughter," expressing his firm stance.
The discussion continued, with Mingyu's mother expressing her desire for him to marry someone he truly wanted. However, in the midst of their conversation, a sudden interruption occurred as Mingyu's father's secretary approached, presenting something on his screen. All eyes shifted to Mingyu, who was in the midst of his dinner.
"What?" Mingyu inquired, slightly irritated.
His father, removing his glasses and placing them on the dinner table, declared, "Kim Mingyu, I want you to bring her this weekend." A pregnant pause filled the air.
The weight of those words hit Mingyu like a sudden storm. Shocked and unable to comprehend what he had just heard, he rose from his seat and walked away from the dinner table. Mingyu hastily grabbed his phone, bombarded with messages from his secretary and friends. The notifications revealed a shocking headline: 'Kim Mingyu Seen in Hospital, Mysterious Girl Turns Out to be a Fiancée.' The revelation sent a wave of disbelief and confusion through Mingyu's already tumultuous evening.
Mingyu hurriedly made his way to his apartment, where he and Mr. Song had agreed to meet. Just as he entered, his phone rang, and Seungcheol's name flashed on the screen. Bracing himself, he answered, "I can explain."
A storm of rage and fury erupted from Seungcheol's voice, "How dare you touch my secretary!"
Concerned about your well-being, Mingyu quickly inquired, "Are you with her, hyung?" Hoping you were safe and in the company of Seungcheol.
Seungcheol's hum echoed through the phone, "In fact, she's been living in my house for almost a week."
Mingyu felt a stab of surprise, almost losing his composure at the unexpected revelation. "Why is she in your house?" he questioned, trying to make sense of the situation.
Seungcheol explained calmly, "You remember her apartment was burnt? It takes time to get it done. So she's living here temporarily. My girlfriend didn't mind either."
Sighing in relief, Mingyu acknowledged, "Alright, I'll be there in twenty, hyung." He ended the call, immediately contacting Mr. Song to redirect him to Seungcheol's place. As Mingyu navigated the complexities of the unfolding events, emotions ranging from relief to confusion swirled within him.
"She's in her room with Nari," Seungcheol mentioned, referring to his girlfriend. "However, I want to have a talk with you first," he continued, gesturing for Mingyu to sit on his couch.
As they settled into an uneasy silence, Seungcheol voiced the thought lingering in the air, "So, you two have an affair that I don't know," his words carried a mix of accusation and confusion, leaving Mingyu grappling for an adequate explanation.
Seungcheol's gaze bore into Mingyu, probing for answers, "Is she the girl in the recent articles?"
Mingyu, feeling the weight of truth, nodded, adding, "Also the one you've seen previously."
Curiosity etched Seungcheol's face as he asked, "How long have you two been seeing each other?"
Nervously shaking his head, Mingyu replied, "We're not seeing each other. It just happened... But I truly care for her."
Seungcheol observed Mingyu's sincerity before delivering a revelation that added another layer of complexity, "I can see... But you know, Y/n's situation is complicated. She's having a baby."
Mingyu nodded, acknowledging the weight of the situation. "I actually think... it's mine," he confessed, revealing the depth of his realization.
Seungcheol, unfazed but understanding, remarked, "Kinda expected it, seeing how shocked you were when the doctor revealed it."
"However," Seungcheol continued, his frustration evident, "I don't think it's time for romance and all. The situation has become so complicated." He wiped his face, grappling with the complexities ahead.
Exhaling heavily, Mingyu leaned on the sofa, admitting, "I told my parents that we're both engaged. And they want to meet us this weekend."
Seungcheol silently gasped, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and resignation. "Kim Mingyu," he sighed, closing his eyes, "you know how to make things even more complicated." The tangled web of emotions and circumstances unfolded, leaving both men entangled in a situation neither had anticipated.
*
After a lengthy discussion with Mingyu, you concluded that it would be better to temporarily live with him rather than in Seungcheol's house. Despite Seungcheol being not only a great boss but also a good friend, you didn't want to impose on him and his girlfriend any further. Mingyu had shared his parents' response to the recent article, urging you to attend the upcoming dinner as his fiancée to maintain a semblance of normalcy. You agreed, as long as your identity remained private and Mingyu handled the situation.
However, there was one piece of shocking news for Mingyu. In reality, you were the heir of JIS Corp, a global automotive company based in South Korea. Your father, Ji Seunggi, was a former president of JIS Corp before it transitioned to being managed by a board vote after his passing. Meanwhile, your mother currently held the position of CEO within the company. The revelation left Mingyu puzzled and intrigued.
As Mingyu processed this unexpected disclosure, the question lingered in the air: why did you decide to work with Seungcheol despite your prominent family background?
"I didn't know you were Minseo's roommate," Mingyu admitted as you both drove to his place.
Humming, you responded, "I didn't know you were Minseo's brother." The revelation about your family backgrounds hadn't been a topic of discussion between you and Minseo, both preferring to keep a low profile regarding your respective family names.
Mingyu recalled a recent phone call with his sister, "She called me to help you that night... She's technically begging."
You sighed, acknowledging Minseo's sometimes bothersome but well-intentioned nature, "Yeah, she can be a bit—"
Mingyu cut in with a soft chuckle, "I know what you mean, darling."
Blinking at the unexpected pet name, you couldn't help but wonder, "Darling?" His choice of endearment added a surprising layer to the conversation, leaving you slightly taken aback.
You cleared your throat and asked, "Is your place far?" Mingyu shook his head.
"Not that far. It's pretty close to my company building and Choi Group. Do you drive to work?" Mingyu inquired.
"No," you confessed, surprising him. "Surprisingly, I couldn't drive."
Mingyu's brows raised, "Really? Then who drives for you and Seungcheol hyung?"
"Mostly, Mr. Won," you mentioned Seungcheol's driver. "But sometimes Seungcheol drove himself."
Mingyu smiled, "It's the first time I heard you call hyung by his name. It was always Mr. Choi."
You sighed, "I know, it's still awkward for me to change it. I've been calling him Mr. Choi for the past 5 years. He asked me, though, so I can't really refuse." You explained your reason to Mingyu.
"How about calling me Mingyu? Is it gonna be burdensome for you?"
You tilted your head, unsure. "I don't know."
Mingyu smirked, "Or do you have anything in your mind? Babe? Honey? Yeobo?" He joked, and you sighed loudly.
"Mingyu," you said carefully, a wide grin appearing on Mingyu's face.
"That's better than Mr. Kim," Mingyu remarked, savoring the shift in familiarity between you two.
Once you two arrived at his place, Mingyu immediately offered any assistance as you settled onto the couch. He took the time to give you a brief tour of his clean and organized house, explaining the available guest room for you.
"You could put your stuff and clothes here," he suggested, pointing to a section in his closet connected to his home office.
As you settled in, Mingyu inquired about cooking, to which you nodded hesitantly, not wanting to impose on him further. Surprisingly, he suggested, "Me too. But we're out of ingredients. Do you mind going to the grocery store tomorrow?"
"Sure," you agreed, appreciating his willingness to share responsibilities.
Mingyu bit his lip, hesitating before revealing a shelf in his kitchen stocked with pregnancy products—from formula to vitamins and snacks. "I asked my secretary to have this ready for you... just in case you need them," he explained.
Looking at the products, you shifted your gaze to Mingyu and whispered, "Thanks." His hand reached for yours on the kitchen island, intertwining fingers. "Just want the best for the baby," he mumbled, his genuine concern evident.
Watching your hands together, you found a sense of security around Mingyu. The revelation escaped your lips, "Our baby." The words surprised both of you, Mingyu's eyes meeting yours at the unexpected declaration.
"O-our? Yeah, our baby," Mingyu stammered, taken aback by your words. The truth revealed in that moment opened a new chapter, catching both of you off guard but bringing a genuine connection to the forefront.
In the warm glow of Mingyu's living room, a vulnerable question hung in the air. "Are you accepting my feelings, Y/n?" Mingyu courageously asked, his heart brimming with emotions that he struggled to put into words. Happiness? Love? Tonight had certainly stirred something profound within him.
Rather than answering immediately, you took a slow and hesitant step towards him. With arms outstretched, you embraced his torso, your voice barely audible as you mumbled, "Please take care of me." Mingyu's chest tightened with the rapid beating of his heart, mirroring your vulnerability. His hands mirrored yours, enveloping your body in a reassuring embrace.
"Let's stay like this for a moment, okay?" Mingyu whispered, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy, where unspoken emotions lingered in the air.
In that tender moment, Mingyu's soothing words broke the silence, "You're doing great, Y/n... You're doing so well." The sincerity in his compliment was palpable, marking the first time you felt a genuine acknowledgment of your efforts and emotions. The atmosphere shifted into one of mutual understanding and acceptance, as the connection between you two deepened in the stillness of the room.
*
The weight of suffocating thoughts pulled you from your sleep, haunted by the lingering fear of a repeat incident since the last apartment fire. Midnight's dimness cast a soft glow as you rose from your bed, craving solace in a sip of water. A leak of light drew your attention to Mingyu's home office – was he still working?
The desire for something more than water surfaced, remembering the provisions Mingyu had prepared. As you opened the shelf, searching for a glass, a realization struck – there were none in sight. An unexpected arm reaching for a higher shelf startled you.
"I'm sorry," Mingyu said, aware of his sudden movement. He handed you a glass, taking a step back as you proceeded to make yourself a comforting glass of milk.
"You're still working at this hour?" you asked Mingyu, breaking the silence that lingered in the dimly lit room.
Mingyu shrugged, "Just finishing some paperwork," he explained.
Turning towards him, you offered, "Need help?" anticipating the weight of late-night tasks.
Mingyu chuckled, "I appreciate it, but no thanks. I couldn't pay you overtime." He joked, acknowledging the unconventional hour – 2 in the morning.
Laughing softly, you reassured him, "Seungcheol pays me enough. Just take it as a rent payment."
Mingyu shook his head, refusing the suggestion, "I should ask for those rent payments for something else."
Curious, you asked, "What do you mean?" with a chuckle.
Mingyu playfully suggested, "Maybe a kiss? Or..." leaving the sentence open-ended.
Rolling your eyes, you responded, "Shut up," as you finished making your milk and settled onto the counter.
Mingyu followed you to the counter, his arms unconsciously creating a barricade as he stood beside you. "How's your everyday life look like?" he asked, breaking the quietude of the night.
Sipping on your milk, you shared, "It's pretty basic. Waking up, having breakfast that I prepared the night before. I walk to the bus station, grab breakfast and coffee for Seungcheol on the way to the office. After work, if I'm too tired, I'll take a cab. Sometimes, Mr. Won drives me home too."
"Sometimes I think about learning to drive, but I'm just too afraid," you admitted.
Mingyu nodded, his mind drifting to a shocking news from 15 years ago. "My father died in a car accident," you revealed, watching his face as you shared such a deeply personal and traumatic piece of information. "I was with him, in the car." The weight of the revelation lingered, creating an unspoken connection between you and Mingyu in the quiet of the night.
Mingyu let out a heavy breath slowly. His arms raised to embrace you, "I'm glad you're safe," he said, tightening the hug. In that quiet moment, the weight of past fears and unspoken pain became a bridge, connecting you and Mingyu in the comfort of the present.
*
Dear diary,
Today marks the beginning of my second year of Senior High School. I'm grateful that Minseo and I are in the same class again this year. I don't know how I would survive high school without Minseo. Although I've befriended everyone, Minseo has been a pillar of support for me since the last time 'she' taunted me.
Minseo confided in me that she likes Taehyung, a boy who sits in front of her and enjoys listening to music with headphones. She mentioned they will have a group project after school, and if Taehyung doesn't ask her out, she plans to make the first move. Minseo asked me if there's anyone I'm interested in within our class or even in the entire school. She seemed surprised when I said no. How could someone not liking anyone yet be considered weird? Perhaps it's because my standards are as high as my father's. Speaking of my father, he's the greatest man I've ever known. However, I couldn't just reveal to Minseo that my father was the President of JIS Corp, could I?
I miss my father.
**
Dear diary,
Today, after visiting my therapist, she prescribed me sleeping pills in case nightmares return. Meanwhile, Minseo informed me that she dropped out of her business major in college, and she seems genuinely happy about it. I'm relieved she's finally able to choose her own path. I wonder if her parents reacted as negatively as mine did.
When was the last time I saw 'her'? Perhaps a year ago, at my father's memorial. She questioned my presence there, as if I weren't part of the family. I chose not to engage with her, following my therapist's advice: block those who hurt you and prevent you from loving yourself.
What is love anyway? I've forgotten its meaning since 'she' did what she did. I wonder if I'll ever experience love again. It's difficult to develop an interest in anyone.
Continue to part 2
#densworld🌼#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#seventeen drabbles#mingyu imagines#mingyu fanfic#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu#mingyu#mingyu au#mingyu fluff#mingyu fic#mingyu imagine#mingyu ff#mingyu recs#mingyu scenarios#mingyu angst
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FATHER, CAN I DIE?
✶﹒ platonic yandere! manhwa fathers x suicidal/overworked daughter! reader.
tw : suicide attempt, neglect, blood, etc.
erno etam
erno is a psychopath, or atleast— that's how you see him. at first, this guy pay no attention to you at all. but he doesn't neglected you (or atleast that's what your maids were saying to make you feel better). he still gives you whatever you want and needed, give you clothings, house and foods. but affection? nah, there's no way he will love someone boring as you.
erno sees everyone as chess pieces, and yes, unfortunately you were also one of those chess pieces. yes, you were an important piece because of your abilities when it comes on magic and military tactics. but it doesn't changed the fact that he can dispose of you whenever he wanted.
and maybe because of his treatment to you and how everyone ridicule you because of erno's treatment. became the last straw to make you do that thing. and damn, the maid who saw your half dead body laying on your research lab and with your slashed throat— got traumatized. to the point that after she saw you like that and called the doctor and the other members of the etam family, she resigned and unfortunately a year after become crazy.
but it wasn't the same for erno. because the time that he saw that sight— he became interested. he remembered when he saw you for the first time as a baby. how you held his finger as if it was your own way to say that you wants to live.
when you woken up, you were disappointed to see the face of your younger siblings as well as your grandfather who scolded you to the point that your ears were about to burst. but what caught your attention was erno who started acting like a proper father for the first time. and seeing that glint on his eyes, the excitement that you felt for the first time started to disappear when you realized that— ah, damn. this is another game for erno's perspective.
nevertheless, you still gave him what he wanted. a perfect oldest daughter who will never disappoint him. you showed him a façade that he wanted. and with the months where he acted like a proper and perfect father who adores his daughter. you realized one thing and you couldn't help but to scoff as your hand traced the bandage around your neck. this guy, he finds you interesting for the first time— he finds the fact that his daughter almost killed herself, he finds the sight of his daughter half dead and bleeding— interesting.
it makes your stomach churn, it was disgusting— he is disgusting. you couldn't help but to wonder why in the are you so desperate to have his attention before? damn it.
but since this is what he wanted, you couldn't help but to think— why can't you give what he wanted? the sight of you dying and bleeding to death? and that's how your suicide attempts started. at first, it was simple such as poisoning yourself, drowning, etc. at first you used the methods where you were sure that it wouldn't hurt you that much.
and erno doesn't know why— he only spent few months acting like a proper father to you. but the sight of you unconscious in your bed was enough to make his hand shook. was it because of fear? why is he scared in the first place?
he spent a week trying to think about the reason. but then, while he was on the palace— he got a message from home saying that you jumped from the castle inside the etam estate. and now, he realized why the hell is he scared. hurrying to get back home, the only thing that erno has inside his mind was his daughter.
those times you tried to impress him, those times that you tried to get his attention, those times that you crave for his affection. and those times when he carried you as a newborn for the first time. erno realized that he fucked up— to the point that he couldn't do anything to change it anymore.
and after once he got home, he was welcomed by the sight of his daughter— sitting down on her bed with bandage around your head and those lifeless eyes of yours. erno felt as if he wanted to cry. and by the time he heard that you got amnesia because of what happened. erno was delighted— delighted by the fact that he was given another chance to fix your relationship. a chance to redeem his self.
but maybe, because of what he did before— no matter what he do. you became obsessed on dying. and your how do we quote it? "turning in new leaf" father got scared that you might succeed in doing that.
and that was the time he resorted onto something that he knew will affect your life, but he doesn't care. you have him, he will take care of you— you don't have to worry. your father got your back.
the only thing that you remembered before erno broke your legs and arms was the series of apologies that he whispered on your ear. and now, you become dependent to him just like what he wanted. don't worry, your father won't disappoint you this time.
“ i know it hurts, little cupcake. but this is what happens when you don't listen to father's requests!"
#manhwa x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere headcanons#yandere manhwa#yandere manhwa x reader#platonic yandere#platonic yandere x reader#erno etam#I'm being raised by villains#imagines#headcannons#platonic yandere headcannons#tw.suicide#tw.yandere
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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ enhypen obliviously in love
hi.......lmfao i keep disappearing i swear i'm alive but my isnpo has been going down the drain but i got this cute lil idea also to take a break of all the smutty things i've been posting lolz... anyways hope you enjoy this one !
make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!
WARNINGS ! none really i think?? this is just not my best work im sorry </3
word count: 1.9k
a/n: sorry that some of them, mainly hee's, are smaller than others, my brain isn't functioning and i had a writer's block during this and if it's not goo it's bc i quite forced myself to write this bc i wanted to post sth :(
୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG ! - trying to hold your hand and failing
you and heeseung met through mutual friends in your first year of college and you became almost inseparable ever since then. in the beginning of it, you would only be together when the whole group was, but as time went by and you both started feeling more than just platonic feelings you two started hanging out alone as well. it was usual for heeseung to walk you to your apartment after classes and today was no different. you two walked side by side, the sun almost setting behind you. it was mostly quiet except for the background chatting and the small talk you two would make about something you saw. you could feel heeseung’s hand brushing against yours from time to time and you were internally cursing him out for not holding your hand already. after a few moments of silence, you heard heeseung sigh as he gained courage to hold your hand. his hand got closer to yours but- oh! a light post came between you two. needless to say heeseung was a blushing mess while you laughed at him.
୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ! - confronting you about it
anyone had to be really blind to not notice the romantic connection there was between you and jay. it was so obvious you were both in love with each other, it was almost painful how one of the sides didn’t notice. that side being you. it’s not like you didn’t like jay romantically, because you do. a lot. but you felt like he just saw you as a best friend he tends to protect a lot. jay didn’t really show it, but he gets really frustrated when he tries to make a move on you in a subtle way, only for you to put him in the friend zone, but it’s all unintentional. every time someone tells you “jay totally likes you.” you’re quick to dismiss them because he would never see you like that. even though you’re the one saying it, it breaks you inside. until one day, you’re both in a diner, sharing fries and a milkshake and you can see jay fidgeting nervously and bouncing his leg repeatedly. “you’re restless, what’s going on?” you ask him, worried. jay sighs heavily and props his elbows on the table, staring at you with a serious expression. “look, i don’t know if i should just give up, because at this point you have to be pretending not to know.” he says “T-to know what?” he laughs at that. “that i like you, dummy.”
୨୧ SIM JAEYUN ! - tries to kiss you and fails
as childhood friends you and jake were always expected to end up dating by your fellow family members. you would always brush off any comments about you two (deep down you wish they were true) while jake just smiled like a fool while looking at you. it was no surprise when jake told his friends he liked you. it wasn’t hard to notice how he felt about you, seen the way he looks at you with glimmering eyes as he took in every word you say. he has never really tried to hide how he felt about you. he wasn’t ashamed of it and couldn’t wait for the moment you realized he liked you, because deep down he knew you felt like him too. it’s funny to him how he’s always making flirty comments and giving you kind of romantic presents and still you just thought he was playing his role as your best friend. but still, even though it was all funny and entertaining to watch, jake was tired of waiting and he decided to just directly show you how he feels. so that’s how you find yourself sitting in the park bench with him as layla plays around. jake takes a quiet deep breath as his hand comes up to brush your hair from your face, making you face him. he takes that as an opportunity to lean down. you, thinking he was gonna whisper something, turned your face to the side, making him bump his head against you. he starts laughing at you, making you confused. “you can’t really see it, can you?”
୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON ! - misunderstanding gone right ?
no one who knew you two understood how in hell you and sunghoon weren’t a couple. it was so obvious you both liked each other but still none of you seemed to do anything about it. you two were your class’s representatives so you two were almost always together and it wasn’t too hard to notice the lingering touches or stares you shared. but something the other students didn’t know was that you two had actually talked about your “feelings”. one day sunghoon almost overheard you telling your friend you liked him. “you like me?” he had asked “no! no, i don’t like you, sunghoon.” you answered trying to play it off. he nodded, his lips pursing. “good, then because i’m in love with someone else.”. it was something along those lines and you two had never talked about it again, but the tension never left. it felt heavy on you and it was painful to spend time alone with sunghoon so you settled that you were gonna tell him the truth. “remember that day you asked me if i liked you?” he hummed as he stopped in his tracks. “well, i lied. i like you, actually. i don’t want things to get awkward because you don’t feel the same but i needed to be honest.” his eyes widened as he stared at you like you were crazy. “are you kidding me? i only said i didn’t like you because you said you didn’t like me.” you gasped and pointed an accusing finger at him “why did you lie then? you said you were in love-” “hey! don’t put the blame on me now you lied too.” “well, we still can fix it right?” you said laughing making him do the same.
୨୧ KIM SUNOO ! - “PFT! who would ever like me?”
you and sunoo weren’t the closest people ever but you two spent a lot of time together since pretty much all of your friends were mutual. still, that fact didn’t stop you from developing a silly crush on him that quickly turned into something more serious the more you got to know him in the very few times the two of you were left alone after a group hangout. no one knew about it except for your best friend. you never told sunoo, not because you were afraid of rejection or him being rude because with how sweet his personality is, he would’ve rejected you in such a friendly manner it would make you think he’s reciprocating the feelings, but because no one like him would ever like you, he was way out of your league. so, confessing was definitely out of question, no matter how much your best friend would insist you would simply not do it. but in reality, it wasn’t really like that. one day you were hanging out with sunoo and your best friend at a cat cafe when suddenly in the conversation you said something along the words of “who would ever like?” and bold sunoo, was not afraid to hide his sincere feelings and answered with “i do.” he smiled while you looked up blushing furiously. your best friend laughing maniacally. “w-what?” sunoo chuckled at your reaction. “i thought i made it quite obvious that i liked you, silly.” oh! who would’ve guessed!
୨୧ YANG JUNGWON ! - heard you liked “someone else”
you and jungwon had met each other in sophomore year of highschool and it was safe to say there was a connection instantly that was more than just a platonic one. you two quickly became attached at the hip. if jungwon said he was going somewhere it was sure that you would be here two, if you were being invited somewhere they could already expect the “can jungwon come along?” question, and vice-versa. it wasn’t strange when people came up to either you or him and asked if you were dating each other and it honestly shocked everyone when you both would always answer no to it, even your own girlfriends found your “friendship” strange. they did not find the idea of a boy-girl friendship weird or impossible to exist but they just couldn’t see your dynamic as friends so it was bound for them to question you. you heard the question so many times you decided to just tell them “fine! yes, i like him so, what?” you saw their shocked faces but they weren’t looking at you. you looked behind you seeing jungwon behind you. when you locked eyes he was quick to turn his back and walk away making you panic. a few days have gone by after that and you decided you needed to talk to him. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i didn’t want things to get ruined by this.” jungwon stared at you “who even is tha guy?” he asked making you look at him as if he had three heads. “what?” you asked “what what?” “jungwon the guy is literally you, i thought that was settled already.” jungwon stayed silent before laughing like a maniac. “if you’re here to make fun of me you can-” jungwon shut you off with a kiss, making you relaize where things went wrong.
୨୧ NISHIMURA RIKI ! - i don’t even know how to word this one
let’s settle one thing. you two knew you both liked each other. romantically. you just don’t bother on labelling it or directly showing it to each other. everyone around you found your dynamic honestly weird but to you two it was more simple than people put it to be. it all started when you were really oblivious about ni-ki’s feelings for you so he decided to hint that he liked you more than a friend. like one time you were walking to his house and he just shoot “you look cute.” but you didn’t quite hear what he said, distracted by a dog “what did you say?” he sighed “i said you look like a fruit.” “riki that does not make sense, but whatever you say.” and he started gradually getting bolder. “i can’t get this song out of my head.” you told him during class “i can’t get you out of my head.” oh! that was new information for you “thanks…?” at this point you were acting dumb for him and he couldn’t take it anymore so he got even more straightforward. during one of your daily walks you were rambling about a flower you saw on the way and he just let you talk as his hand sneakily grabbed yours, making you stop talking and falter in your steps “what?” he asked as if it was nothing “n-nothing!” he smiled as he kept walking along with you. after that day he noticed a change. a good one. and that’s when he realized you had realized so he decided to just get to the point “is it weird if i kiss you?” he asked when you were eating lunch in the school garden. you put your drink down and turned to look at him. “honestly, riki? yes. do i care? no.” so with that he grabbed your face, kissing you as he smiled against your lips.
#enhypen fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen drabbles#enhypen imagines#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen imagine#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen reaction#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#niki x reader#enhypen drabble#enhypen suggestive#enha fics#enha x you#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha reactions#enha x y/n#enha imagines#enhypen headcanons#enhypen jake
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Dookie the Matchmaker
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x f!reader
Warnings: mention of blood
Summary: She curses herself for forgetting to ask for your name, but she thinks it's better this way. She can't afford to get close to anyone. Not after Amber. Not after Quinn and Ethan.
Masterlist
Tara falls in love.
It happens slowly, gradually. At first, she doesn't even notice, just keeps sending you awkward smiles and brief glances, long enough to be considered friendly, but not long enough to make you question her.
She sees you regularly during her economics class - it was one of the electives, and Sam made some good points about choosing it, so she did.
You're never late, always showing up a few minutes early, taking your seat near the window and drawing doodles in your notebook.
Tara doesn't even remember when she first started noticing you, she just knows that one day she walked in and her eyes zeroed in on your seat, corners of her mouth curling up at the familiar sight of you hunched over the desk, chewing on your pen.
You're never absent, so when she was forced to miss one of the lectures she ventured to you, hesitantly asking to borrow your notes.
She keeps telling herself she did that because she is an outcast now, no one in her class is willing to talk to her and seats closest to her always remain empty, but honestly she just wanted to hear your voice and maybe see you smile at her, if she's lucky.
Turns out luck was on her side that day, because the smile directed at her was wide and inviting, and you gave her your notes without a question.
She curses herself for forgetting to ask for your name, but she thinks it's better this way. She can't afford to get close to anyone. Not after Amber. Not after Quinn and Ethan.
She convinces herself that the looks she regularly receives in the halls don't bother her. She pretends she doesn't hear harsh words muttered behind her back. She sits at the farthest table at the cafeteria with Chad and Mindy by her side, looking away when she feels people staring.
She can't ignore the shove she receives after she hurries away from her economics class.
She looks up and fights the urge to throw up.
It's one of Ethan's friends, all bulky, tall and angry. Other students walk by without a second glance, and his lips curl in a way that makes her shiver.
She takes a deep breath and looks him straight in the eye, straightening her shoulders.
"What's going on?"
You're the last one to walk out, looking between them in confusion, one hand in your pocket, the other on the door behind you.
He smirks and cocks his head to the side, and she really really doesn't want you to see this.
"Are you deaf?" You ask, more forcefully this time, and to her surprise you choose to stand by her side, your shoulder brushing against hers in silent support.
"Just want to have a little chat. You should leave." He jerks his head at you, but you don't budge, your eyes narrowing.
"After you, Matthews."
You look at each other for a long moment, and Tara's about to finally speak up, tell you to just leave it and go, when he scoffs and walks past you, shouldering you harshly.
You roll your eyes and make sure he leaves, before turning to her with that warm smile and kind eyes, asking if she's okay, offering to walk her home.
She shakes her head, whispers a quiet thanks and rushes away, not looking back.
Later that night she cries in Sam's arms. No words are said out loud, but she knows her sister understands, can feel it in the press of lips on her temple and the tears that disappear in her hair.
Next morning they visit a dog shelter and come back home with another family member.
The dog doesn't take well to strangers.
Mindy and Chad, who are now living with them, shriek when they first see their new pet, jumping on the counter when the Doberman starts barking loudly. In the end, Sam is the one to calm everyone down, because Tara is too busy wheezing on the couch.
It takes two months for the dog to get used to the twins and they complain the whole time. But even they can't deny feeling this new sense of security.
"Dude, she's so good." Chad rambles on and on about some girl days later, while Tara picks at her salad distractedly, her thoughts on you and the shirt you decided to wear today. It showed off your arms and she idly wonders if you play any sports, but doesn't allow her mind to wander further.
Mindy laughs loudly and shakes her head.
"I'm telling you. You should've seen her, she's crazy." He exclaims, gaining attention of nearby students.
He doesn't look away like Tara does, instead he looks them in the eye and waits, daring them to say something. They never do, because Chad is Chad. And Tara is… well, she's just Tara.
"Okay, we got it. Or do you want everyone to know?" Mindy chuckles, elbowing her brother.
Chad takes a sip of his water and grins proudly. "As matter of fact, yes, I do. She's amazing and everyone needs to know that. I think she's in one of your classes, you need to introduce us," he directs at Tara to which she shrugs, trying to hide her sudden interest.
You're the only person she notices, and if you're the one he's talking about she has no desire to introduce you.
If she could, she would keep you to herself.
She blinks, surprised by her own thought and quickly shoves it into the deepest corner of her mind.
She finally understands what he was talking about when she sees you during basketball practice, practically annihilating the other team. She gulps and pointedly ignores the looks Mindy and Chad keep sending her, her eyes on your lean body as you send yet another ball through the hoop. You smile when your teammate slaps your back good-naturally and send her a wink, making Tara swoon in her seat at the bleachers.
You don't notice her at all, your eyes never stray away from the court, your chest glistening with sweat, making the smaller girl lick her lips.
"Are you drooling?" Mindy smirks.
Tara rolls her eyes and doesn't grant a response.
She spends the rest of the day wishing that wink was directed to her.
When she sees Matthews again it doesn't go the way she thought it would go.
You burst through a door, looking ragged and breathless. Tara runs into you, your eyes widening in alarm before you quickly hide your hands behind your back, and Tara immediately tenses up, unconsciously taking a step back. A moment later Matthews walks out of the same door, his nose bleeding profoundly. He blanches when he sees you, and backtracks, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
You shift sheepishly and apologize for startling her, but Tara doesn't hear any of it, all of her senses focused on the way your chest rises with each breath, the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips in a nervous gesture.
Tara blinks rapidly and curses quietly. She mutters a lame excuse and almost sprints out of the building, away from you, away from her unwanted feelings.
That night Sam tells her something that makes her heart skip a bit.
"We can't live our life in fear. Maybe… maybe you should give them a chance. But not before I meet them, of course."
The words leave her with a warm feeling in her chest. She doesn't know how Sam found out, but she's grateful nonetheless.
The problem is, she has no idea how to approach you. It wasn't easy to come up and ask for notes and you were strangers then, she wasn't fully aware of her feelings. Technically, you're still strangers, but you've saved her ass multiple times now and all she's done is run. So yeah, no one can blame her for not knowing how to approach you after she so carefully avoided any interaction with you for so long.
It happens right after she steps out of her favorite pizza place after picking up her order.
One moment she has a tight grip on the leash, pizza box in other hand, and the next, her dog is sprinting like there's no tomorrow, easily tugging Tara behind him.
The brunette struggles to keep up, pizza long forgotten in favor of trying to stop her dog, both of her hands getting white from the tight grip she has on the leash.
"Dookie!" She shouts, trying to stop her dog. "Dookie, stop!"
With one last harsh tug from the doberman she is forced to let go of the leash, huffing and sprinting after the dog. She is already panting, and by the time her dog rounds the corner she has half a mind to call Sam and make her chase the dog down herself. After all, it was her sister's idea to get one.
There's a yelp right before she rounds the corner and she runs faster, almost bumping into the rough concrete, panic coursing through her veins.
She stops in her tracks as soon as she sees you.
"Hey, buddy," you say, giggling.
The leash previously held in Tara's hand is now wrapped snugly around your legs, effectively keeping you in place. Her dog, the traitor that he is, is jumping at you in joy, trying to lick your face.
Now that she's sure no one's hurt, she takes a moment to get her breathing under control and to observe her supposedly very scary guard dog making you laugh. She can't help, but be jealous of the way her dog so easily got your attention.
She thinks about calling Sam, or Mindy, or even Chad, because she can't do this. She can't walk up to you when you're looking so breathtakingly beautiful, laughing unabashedly, your eyes glistening in the sunlight.
But she has no other choice now, seeing you nearly topple over when Dookie decides to make another lap around you.
"Stop it!" she whisper yells at the dog as soon as she nears the two of you.
You look up, surprised, and blink, before a grin overtakes your features. You try to face her and realize you can't even turn when your legs don't move an inch.
She bends and picks up the leash, embarrassment painted over her features. "I'm so sorry. He's never done that before," she chuckles awkwardly and tugs on the leash.
You yelp when the movement causes you to trip and fall into her arms, and she catches you without missing a beat, holding you while you regain your footing.
Her dog barks happily from behind you.
"Sorry," you mutter, trying to pry away from the leash, but the dog doesn't move from the place near your feet, drool dripping over your shoes.
Tara's sure she looks positively horrified at the sight of your drool covered shoes, her face feels like it's been set on fire. She crouches in front of you and begins to unwrap the leash, and you try to help her as much as you can, much to the dog's displeasure.
"There. All done." She gets up, her eyes darting around the street. "I'm really sorry about this. Don't know what's gotten into him, he's never tried to kidnap anyone before." She realizes just how true the words are as soon as they leave her lips.
Dookie hates strangers. It took Chad and Mindy almost a month to even pet the dog, much less cuddle with him like old friends, which is what you're doing now. She hums in thought, barely managing to hide a smile.
Dookie's approval means Sam's approval.
You laugh, shaking your head. "It's fine. Seems like he just wants to play. You're Tara, right?" You look up, squinting from the sun and the sight almost takes her breath away.
Her face burns and she curses herself for not even giving you her name after all the times you've saved her. But it seems you don't mind at all, smiling softly and looking away like you don't want to pressure her into having a conversation.
She decides she's done being afraid.
"Yes. And you're Y/n," she mumbles, suddenly shy. "And this is Dookie," she adds, gesturing to the dog jumping at your feet.
You get up from your crouch, laughing. "Dookie?"
"Short for Babadook. It's my favorite scary movie." She looks away momentarily, tension taking root in her shoulders as she awaits your reply.
"I hate scary movies." You make a face, shuddering.
She exhales with a chuckle and looks back to where she came from. "Wanna go look for the pizza I threw somewhere down this alley?" She asks jokingly, but she really really hopes you'll say yes.
"I'd love to," you smile, a red tint on your cheeks.
When she comes back home with a spring in her step and a happy grin in place, Sam smiles knowingly and gives her a hug that feels like home.
#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#tara carpenter x fem!reader#tara carpenter#jenna ortega#dookie the matchmaker
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Hiii LOVE your fic 🫶🏻! I was wondering if you could write a fic where everything that happens in the chase scene, happens to fem!reader but Miguel actually catches up to her & kinda knocks her down. He begs her not to do this, to stay down. As she gets up she asks him if any of it was real, he says it was and still is. He tells her that he thought that if he pursue her romantically then she would accept her dad's fate & wouldn't go against him (of course it doesn't work) she says she can't do that & escapes. He loses it a little & starts destroying everything & makes it everybody's mission to find her
Just pure angst 😭 I'm sorry if this is a lot
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Summary: You finally understand the true purpose of the Spider Society; protecting the canon, protecting the multiverse even at the cost of all the Spiders' suffering. But you were going to stop at nothing to find your way home, though Miguel isn't keen on letting you go.
Warnings: Angsty, Miguel gets angry.
“Miguel…what are you doing,” you ask softly, still not wanting to believe what you were seeing. All around you, members of the Society began closing in, caging you in an inescapable circle.
You didn’t want to accept it. That all these people, the ones you have grown to call family would turn their back on you in the blink of an eye. Or rather an order from their leader.
“I can’t let you leave, mi vida,” he says, eyes apologetic but unrelenting.
“What is the purpose of this place, the true purpose of this place Miguel,” you ask, your voice hardening. You had always believed when Miguel first recruited you it was to act as Spider-Man across the multiverse, no longer limited to your own hometown. But it seems there was some other agenda you were made unaware of.
He hesitates for a moment before exhaling lowly, eyes boring into yours.
“The Spider Society…was created to protect the canon of the multiverse. To ensure that in each world the events progress as they should,” he explains as the world disappears around everyone, replaced with holograms of a complex web.
“I don’t understand, what does that have to do with me saving my father?” you ask, and he winces.
You were never supposed to see the hologram and the message that followed it, you realize now. But you had snuck into the monitoring room, carrying a lunch of all of Miguel’s favourite foods when you saw it.
A hologram of your father going about his day, the message ‘Canon Event Detected. Time: 2 Days’ followed by the words ‘Soon to be Deceased’.
You thought it was some sick joke, some prank a cruel spider thought to play on you. But when you asked Miguel about it he refused to make eye contact with you, and that’s when the intervention began.
“Your father dying, is a canon event,” he says. “Just like how every person in this room undergoes their own canon events, their own version of loss. It's what ties every person in this room together in the web that makes up the Arachno-Humanoid Polymultiverse,” he explains, and you only grow more confused as he acted like that explanation justified any of this.
“So you’re saying you know that some of the most important people in every Spider’s life will die, and you just let it happen?” you ask, in disbelief at the blatant cruelty.
“It must happen, to ensure that life continues. That it doesn’t disintegrate into nothing…like how my universe disappeared.”
You only shake your head, taking a step back as your breath becomes slightly unsteady.
“You’re saying that our job here is to make everyone suffer, because of something that you fucked up a long time ago?!” you say, and his eyes narrow at you. It was harsh, but it was true. Perhaps the cumulation of disordered events could destroy a universe, but there was no way of proving that slight changes would hurt anything.
Scientific fact arises through countless hours of testing and experimentation. One result that happened one time shouldn’t dictate what the conclusion will be.
“You can’t tell me not to save my father, Miguel! I can’t just let him die if I can do something about it,” he says, and a look of pity washes over his face as he walks closer to you, but you take a step back.
“All this happens for a reason, these canon events allow us to become who we are, even if it hurts,” he says gently. And even though you hate to say it, it soothes you. His voice always has.
So much so, that you let down your guard for a single moment. Allowing him to come close and slip the watch right off of your wrist.
“No!” you say, trying to take it from his grasp but he was too fast. “How am I supposed to go home?”
“You won’t,” he says in turn.
“I’m sorry,” a voice cuts in from behind you. Jess, with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “I know it's hard, but it's for the greater good.” Looking around, you see all your closest friends surround you, but against you.
“Even you, Peter?” you ask softly, and he only glances away with guilt.
“2 days? That’s plenty of enough time, I’ll get home one way or another,” you say, glaring at Miguel.
“I can’t let you do that,” he says before he tosses a trap right at your feet. Before it can work, you use your telekinesis to throw it back, trapping him instead.
“STOP! ENOUGH OF THIS!” Miguel shouts. It was the first time in your life you had ever heard him shout, and frankly, it scared you as you watch him try to claw his way out.
Everyone immediately starts to move in on you, but you throw your arms out casting a force field that throws everyone back.
Leaving an opening for escape.
~
Running from hundreds of different spiders all on the hunt for you was not easy. It doesn’t make you feel very superhuman when all that are chasing after you were also superhuman, and quite frankly you were exhausted.
Not only physically, but mentally as well. The whole situation was taking a toll on you even if you were trying to shove it to the back of your head.
Luckily everything served as a pretty good distraction for the pain your heart was in.
“You can’t keep running,” Jess says as you leap from car to car on the freeway, tailing behind you on her motorcycle.
“What choice do I have?” you say, though your voice cracks. You see her determined expression falter. You and she grew close soon after you joined the Society, she was truly one of your best friends.
But best friends don’t keep things from each other, especially things as important as the supposed ‘cause’ you were all working for.
You notice her hesitancy, and that’s when you strike. Kicking her off her bike, you pin her to a car with your webs as you snatch the watch from her wrist.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” she says, looking up at where you hung from the vehicle, sadness in her eyes.
“You already did,” you say before swinging away.
~
You were very quickly running out of options for escape. Even with the watch, you couldn’t find an opening to program the watch for home.
As a last resort you latched onto the roof of the high-speed bullet train of Nueva York headed toward the skies, hoping that the force of gravity paired with the speed would at least stall some of the spiders off of your trail.
But before you could realize it, Miguel was very quickly on your tail until finally, he grabbed ahold of you, slamming you down into the roof as you yelped out in pain.
“STOP THIS!” he shouts, straight into your face. He doesn’t even take his mask off as he does, making the whole situation seem even more impersonal. You could only scoff in his face before the hurt overwhelmed you, and you spoke before you could stop yourself.
“Was any of it even real?” you ask softly, tears welling in your eyes as you do. Miguel looks taken back for a moment, eyes widened in surprise as his grasp falters for a second.
“What?” he asks.
“Was any of it real?!” you say louder this time. “Those times when you held me in your arms as I cried, the times when you kissed me in the kitchen as we made dinner together, or when we danced in the living room at night. When you said ‘I love you’ for the first time, was any of it even real?” You say as you feel the anger rise.
“Or was it just some kind of sick way of keeping me under your thumb because I’m the 'original anomaly’, to keep me from going against the canon and your sick agenda that you force everyone else to suffer?” you say, your voice loud now as you struggle harder against his grasp.
“It was real...in the end,” he admits, and you feel your expression drop. You wished that this was all some horrible nightmare, that you would wake up and this would just be in your head and he would hold you like he always did.
But deep down you always knew.
Knew that you loved him more than he did you, that this relationship was built on a lie. But you ignored it for the sake of your fragile heart, and here it is getting shattered all over again by the one person in this life you thought you could trust.
“We’re done, Miguel,” you say, resigned at last.
“Huh?” he says, as though he couldn’t believe your words even after everything you had been through.
“I said we’re done,” you say before you kick him straight in his stomach, launching him off of you so that he has to claw his way back onto the roof.
“Goodbye, Miguel,” you say, before you take a leap backwards, flying through the sky for a few moments until you open up a portal back home.
~
Miguel shouts in frustration as he marches back into the monitoring room, rage radiating off of his form in waves.
In his anger he shoves everything in his path out of the way, talons scratching into the walls as the rest of the Society surrounds him, awaiting his next orders.
Finally, he manages to calm down enough to utter out a single phrase.
“Find her, for the canon…for the multiverse,” Miguel says as guilt creeps in like vines around his heart at his lost love.
Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose
A/N: Could you believe I was going to post fluff today? Crazy how life gets in the way sometimes, but hey, managed to get this fic out lol. Sorry, I know I'm the fluff writer and all but angst just hits sometime :3
#miguel o hara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman#spiderman 2099#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#spiderman 2099 x reader
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Run Away
Dad!Gojo x reader
Genre: Fluff
Words: 653
Synopsis: Your daughter wants to run away from home
Masterlist
In the Gojo household, chaos was just another member of the family. Amidst the battles and the trials, there was a slice of normalcy: your child.
Little Yuki was the light of your life. She looked like the carbon copy of Gojo, but somehow inherited your calmer personality. Like any child of her age, she had her moments of defiance. And today was one of those days.
"Mommy, Daddy!" Yuki's voice pierced through the silence of the household like a tiny arrow. You and Gojo exchanged a glance, accustomed to such interruptions.
"What's up, kiddo?" Gojo asked, a grin already spreading across his face.
"I want ice cream for dinner!" Yuki declared, crossing her arms over her chest, her pout matching her father's all too well.
You exchanged a look with your husband, silently communicating that it was a battle neither of you were going to win. "Sorry, sweetheart," you began, "but ice cream isn't really a dinner food."
Yuki's face fell, her disappointment evident. But instead of the expected protest, she surprised you both with a declaration. "Well, if I can't have ice cream for dinner, then I'm running away!"
Gojo's laughter echoed through the room, and you couldn't help but chuckle at your daughter's dramatics. "Running away, huh? Where to?" he teased, kneeling down to her eye level.
Yuki's tiny brows furrowed in concentration as she pondered her escape plan. "To the park! I'll live on the swings and under the huge elephant slide!"
You exchanged another glance with Gojo, both of you struggling to contain your laughter. "Well, we'll miss you, little adventurer," you said, trying to keep a straight face. "But don't forget to pack your teddy bear!"
Yuki's resolve wavered for a moment as she considered the logistics of bringing her favorite plush companion on her great journey. "Okay!" she exclaimed, dashing off to her room to fetch her teddy.
As she disappeared down the hallway, Gojo turned to you with a amusement in his eyes. "Should we let her go through with it?"
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "Of course not. But let's play along for a bit. It'll be good for a laugh."
Agreeing to the plan, you and Gojo followed Yuki to her room, where she was diligently stuffing her teddy bear into a tiny backpack. "All packed and ready to go?" Gojo asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Yuki nodded solemnly, her expression a mix of determination and excitement. "Yep! I'm gonna live at the park forever and ever! And I'll have a lot of fun!"
As she made her way towards the front door, backpack bouncing with each step, you exchanged a knowing look with Gojo. This was going to be one for the family scrapbook.
With exaggerated solemnity, you and Gojo followed Yuki out the door, watching as she marched purposefully down the sidewalk, her tiny frame filled with determination.
But as she reached the end of the block, her resolve began to waver. The park seemed much farther away than she had anticipated, and the weight of her decision started to sink in.
You and Gojo watched from a distance, hidden behind a tree, as Yuki paused at the corner, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.
"I don't think I want to run away anymore," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible from your vantage point.
With a silent nod, you and Gojo emerged from your hiding spot, unable to contain your laughter any longer. Yuki's face lit up at the sight of you both, her momentary distress forgotten.
"I'm sorry for trying to run away," she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
Gojo scooped her up into his arms, planting a kiss on her forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart. We know you were just upset. But next time you want something, just ask nicely, okay?"
Yuki nodded, her tears replaced with a wide smile. "Okay, Daddy."
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo#satoru gojo#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk gojo x reader#jjk satoru#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fluff#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader
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honeymoon period | jumin han x reader
After Jumin marries you, slowly, his threads start to untangle.
a/n: my first and probably last long jumin fic. this has been in the works for months, literally what i've been stalling on superior for (pre keigo 😭) i hope you all enjoy! i love this man <3
warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, some depressing thoughts, smut, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, references to kinks that they both have, references/nightmares about abuse including sexual harassment, insecurity, jumin's comedy lol
word count: 13.2k (only a little less than the last superior chapter that is cray cray)
There is a knock on your door.
It makes you jump. Not that you’re nervous—it’s a hotel and several of your friends and family are here to see you get married, so naturally many of them know where your room is. The room itself is, of course, lavish, a paradise compared to most of your previous lodgings. Honestly, you miss the penthouse.
No, that’s not quite right. You just miss being curled up on the couch, tucked into Jumin’s chest with Elizabeth on your lap, wine on his lips and love in his eyes. You miss him, even though you saw him last this morning. You know he’s in the hotel lobby being forced to get wasted by Luciel, because the hacker in question has sent you dozens of videos of your fiancé. In one of them, when Zen reminds him he’s getting married tomorrow, a goofy smile breaks out on his face as he ducks his head.
Maybe the wedding wasn’t necessary. Maybe you two could have just signed the necessary papers without having to go a full day without seeing each other. How are you supposed to sleep tonight? You could call him, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Sighing, you make your way to the door. If it’s one of your friends trying to convince you to let loose or a family member coming to check up on you, you’re not in the mood.
When you open the door, your fiancé is standing there.
“Jumin!”
All questions on the tip of your tongue disappear when he brings you into his arms, burying his face in your neck with a content sigh. There’s no urgency in it, just a quiet, sudden happiness, like he’s fully aware that in just a few hours he won’t have to worry about you being anywhere but in his arms again.
“Thank you.” His voice breaks the silence, muffled on your skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”
Your eyes well up with tears. What an emotional bride you’re turning out to be. And what a wonderful groom you have, to somehow know exactly what you need even when he’s not completely sober.
Slowly, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
“You’re welcome, Jumin.”
///
There has never been a lovelier sight than your smile, and Jumin hopes you know that.
If you don’t, he’ll just have to convince you.
“Hi, sweetheart.” You’re sporting a grin for him—just for him—wearing nothing but one of his shirts with Elizabeth the Third scurrying out from between your feet when she sees him. There’s a pink bottle on the counter. Frosting, he thinks. “I hope you don’t mind, but having a chef cook for us for a month straight has ruined my palate for anything else. I had to cook for myself again before I got spoiled. I can call him to make you dinner if you don’t want to eat what I made, though!”
“Of course not.” The urge to embrace you is unbearable. A month after the wedding, and his first day back at work after the honeymoon, he still can’t seem to keep his hands off. “What did you make? I’ll eat anything.”
He leans down to take Elizabeth the Third in his arms, scratching the back of her head softly. “Alright! I made stew and baked some cupcakes, I hope you like it. But you should probably change first. Slip into something more comfortable.”
“Ironic, considering you and I are wearing the same thing.”
“Well…” You lean over the counter, making a show of ogling him. “If you really want to match, you can leave the shirt on and take off your pants.”
It’s impossible to even try and stop the smile growing on his face. “Would you like that?”
“Come over here and find out, hubby.”
The nickname makes him flush pleasantly, but instead of taking you up on that extremely tempting offer, he simply walks up and presses a kiss to your forehead. You pout, and with the tact of knowing Elizabeth is still in his arms, you tug on his tie and kiss him properly. Jumin’s brain turns off, if only for a few seconds. As long as you kiss him and he kisses you back, the only thing he knows is you, you, you and nothing else.
Now, instead of changing, he’s holding his cat and kissing you in the kitchen. With just a minor breakaway and murmured apology, he’s no longer holding his cat. His hands slide around your back and pull you in, and your hands meet at the base of his neck. You. Only you.
“Ju-min,” you admonish breathlessly, the second he pulls away to trail hurried kisses down your neck. “Dinner first.”
“Mm. I’m not hungry.” Or he is, but not for dinner.
Your hands come to rest on his chest, but you don’t pull away, and Jumin is beyond grateful. He doesn’t want to eat, doesn’t want to sleep or shower or do anything else when he could be showing you just how much he’d missed you at work today.
Slightly pressed into the counter, you place your hands back and jump onto it, and he eagerly steps in between your legs to kiss you again. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair—a habit of yours, he’s noticed, to mess his hair up. He doesn’t mind. Not if it makes you happy.
Finally, you pull away and before he can dive back in for yet another kiss, you dip your finger into the bowl next to you and offer it up to him. Without even considering it, he takes your finger in between his lips and licks the gravy off.
It’s only after he registers the taste does Jumin realize how intimate the action is. And of course, he knows that you’re married, that you and he have seen each other absolutely bare and open to one another, that he is literally making out with you in his—in your—in your shared kitchen. He knows that despite everyone thinking that the marriage was rushed and impulsive, this will be a long road, and he plans to stick by you for each and every single step. He knows that tasting something off your finger is hardly the most domestic thing you two will do.
But it doesn’t stop the flurry of butterflies he feels in his stomach. It doesn’t stop him from thinking my wife is letting me taste what she made, because she’s perfect. That’s not to mention how wonderful the taste actually is.
“Good?” you question, with gleaming eyes.
“Incredible.” He takes your hand and dips your finger in the bowl, stealing another taste right after. “More than incredible. The best stew I’ve ever had.”
“I know you’re flattering me.” Leaning forward, you take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Softly, gently, like he’s something fragile that will break if you use any force. “But I’m not complaining. Keep going.”
“Food is always better when a beautiful woman is the one serving it.”
You beam. The butterflies in his stomach do a victory soar.
Jumin Han is in love.
///
Zen has a dream about you. That’s when the problem starts.
He tells it to the group in great detail—it’s not anything romantic or sexual, but Jumin doesn’t see a reason for you to be in his subconscious at all, even if you were just the supposed director for Zen’s dream movie. You’re not any sort of movie director, so the dream is ridiculous at any rate.
It doesn’t stop him from pouncing on you the second you two get back home. You don’t even get to take a seat before he’s pressing you against the door, ensuring it’s locked (the last thing he needs is for one of the security guards to see this and have dreams about you too) and kissing you possessively.
“Jumin—?” There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but it cuts off into a delicious moan when he starts sucking and biting all the same spots he knows he left hickeys on during your honeymoon.
“Spend the day with me,” he whispers. “Just me, no one else.”
An amused giggle bubbles from your throat. “I was already gonna do that, honeybunny.”
Good. That’s plenty of time for him to mark up your neck (and other places) so that everyone knows you’re his, and other people can stop dreaming of you. Already his mind is filled with wicked thoughts, of how he can make you cry and beg and scream today. From the time you two spent on your honeymoon, he knows you can get quite loud if he puts his mind to it.
The only limit is his imagination.
“Jumin.” Your head tilts back against the door, eyes closed as his tongue soothes a bite mark he just made. “Ah, J-Jumin, are you jealous?”
“No.” He is.
“I know what possessiveness looks like.” You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to each fingertip. “You know that me being in Zen’s dream isn’t something in our or even his control?”
“Of course I know that.” He huffs, impatiently fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
He kisses you again, and you hum in understanding, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. It’s amazing, no matter how many times he thinks everyone would dismiss him for being ridiculous over something like this, you are always there to prove that at least one person wouldn’t. And you taste. So. Damn. Good.
So why not taste you all over? Jumin hungrily slides his tongue over your teeth, seeking entrance. When your mouth parts for him, he tastes you intimately, swallowing your soft sighs.
“For the record,” you mumble, out of breath, “I only ever dream about you.”
“As do I, darling.” He pulls you closer still, thinking about how good you’ll taste when he has his mouth on your pussy. “As do I.”
///
This need to prove himself to you extends beyond the sexual—you laugh so much when you’re around Luciel and Yoosung. Actual laughter that is so different from the polite smiles and chuckles that are in response to his own words.
He hates it. He hates it so very much. He wants to make you laugh, full blown and unabashed. As much as he likes making you giggle, he wants to make you laugh so hard that there are tears pouring down your cheeks. And his experience has quite readily set him up for the expectation that if he wants something, he will have it.
And now, what he really, really wants is to see his wife lose her in laughter because of him.
That means it’s time to bring out the big guns.
Right now you’re under the covers, reading glasses on as you flip through a book. The book in question is something from his personal library (when he showed it to you, mentioning a scene from Beauty and the Beast, you had promptly told him that he was not a beast, but that you finally understood how the princess felt in that scene).
To an extent, Jumin feels bad when he distracts you from work or requests your attention. But he tries to remind himself that if you didn’t want it, you were more than capable of telling him as much. And your reaction to him crawling on top of you with his arms on either side would certainly not be to put the book aside and pull him down to lay on your chest with a kiss to the crown of his head.
For once in his life, Jumin is certain that he is loved.
“I have a joke,” he tells you matter-of-factly, and your brow raises.
“What is it?”
Taking a deep breath, he raises himself up so he can take a good look at your face.
“Hit Seoul, hit Daejon, hit Daegu, hit Busan, hit it!”
There’s a long pause, and your surprised expression slowly morphs into a giggle, then at his grin, a chortle. Jumin laughs first, and then you do too, throwing your head back. It’s single-handedly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.
“W-what—“ You’re wheezing now, shoulders shaking. “What does that even mean?”
“I cast a spell on you. Those who laugh are no ordinary souls, for your information.”
“You are so perfect.” The praise catches him off guard, but your body is still shaking from laughter, and in your eyes he sees something like adoration. “How are you so perfect?”
That is definitely not a word he associates with his humor. His status, money, company, business acumen? Yes, perfect, as they were always meant to be. But the little flips in his stomach tell him that none of those things are what you’re referring to. The look in your eyes—he never sees you look at material objects or money that way. He has only ever seen it aimed towards him, and Jumin realizes with a start that there is no need to compete with Zen or Yoosung or Luciel—because really, there is no competition to begin with.
///
Being a workaholic comes with benefits. Everything always gets done. And he enjoys doing business, so there is no negative side effect…other than the lost time that could be spent with his wife. Typing away on the computer he has set up in his study, Jumin sighs, cracking his neck every half hour or so. He’s been at it for hours, but there’s still more left to do.
A soft knock makes him look up. You peek your head in, blinking sleepily and all wrapped up in a blanket. “Sorry to disturb,” in a whisper that barely reaches his ears, “can I sleep here, honey?”
Jumin beckons you in, looking around dubiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s any surface here you’d be comfortable on. I don’t want you to have an ache by tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Your eyes keep blinking closed, as though you’re barely staying awake. All your words are hushed, but you still manage to clamber over to his side of the desk, blanket in tow, and fall onto his lap, burying your face in his chest.
With a start, he catches you, holding you close. “What is it, sweetheart? You can’t sleep?”
You shake your head, getting even more comfortable. “The bed’s too cold.”
Something indescribable squeezes his chest. Above everything, the pleasure that you would rather seek warmth from him rather than get another blanket is all-consuming. Without another word, he stands with you in his arms and walks to the bed. The second he steps into the bedroom, your grip on him becomes a little tighter.
He huffs back a small laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I’d just rather you sleep here.”
Pulling out a second blanket from the closet for good measure, he lays down on the bed with you, throwing both blankets over your bodies before wrapping you up in his arms. You sigh happily, legs mixing with his and face pressing in his chest once more.
“Sorry for distracting you.” Now your voice is barely audible. “Mm…you’re just…so much warmer…”
“Can I ask you a favor?” You hum softly in response. “Please never apologize for demanding my attention. I am yours, that includes my body, my soul, and my time. Should you ever need me to sleep and I am in the office, please call me and I’ll come home immediately. I’ll take the jet home if I have to. That doesn’t just stop at my time either. If there is anything, anything, you would like, then all you have to do is ask me. I’ll buy you anything. The world is at your disposal.”
There’s a pause and Jumin thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you break the silence, quietly asking, “Is it okay if I ask you for something, then?”
“Anything.”
Cute but glossy eyes peer up at him, and you blink rapidly. “A kiss?”
Jumin places his hands on your cheeks, catching the stray tear that falls. Then he leans in, and everything is right with the world.
///
Ice Prince.
Jumin has no idea where the title actually came from. He doesn’t see what’s wrong with someone having control of their emotions. Is he expected to cry or rage at every little thing? That’s a genuine question. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion at all, and he should. He’s open to advice.
It shouldn’t even be on his mind. He’s watching a soap opera, and the most beautiful woman in the world is in his arms. He enjoys watching your reactions more than watching the show itself, whether you’re holding back an aww or wincing. Every so often, you look up and meet his eyes, giving him a sweet smile each and every time before placing your head back on his chest.
Still, he can’t get the article he read earlier out of his head. Has the Ice Prince really settled down? What kind of life does the new Mrs. Han lead? One can only imagine that she does not get many warm moments with Jumin Han. A speedy divorce would not be surprising.
Just the thought makes him tug you in closer, the idea of you leaving never failing to terrify him. He’s gotten better, he doesn’t freak out over you exiting the penthouse or hanging out with friends or working. He’d told himself harshly that he would not drive you away with his overt possessiveness.
But maybe he’s going to drive you away if he can’t learn to show you his emotions and instead continues to be…well, an ice prince, as much as he hates the term.
“Jumin.” You’re pressing a kiss to his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you tired, honey? We can go to bed.”
When he looks down, you’re gazing concernedly up at him. He doesn’t feel like a villain when you look upon him like this. And holding you close is not the only privilege he has here. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you, and you melt in almost immediately. Jumin knows that you’re starting to get sleepy because you don’t make any move to straddle him further.
The man who knows you best—that is what the articles should be about. Doting husband. Family man. Your partner. How could anyone think he was cold or heartless to you?
“Juju,” you mumble softly, not bothering to break the kiss, “we should get to bed.”
Yes, you’re right. However…
“May I ask you a question?” His curiosity and slight anxiousness requires him to make sure. If he’s ever done anything to make you think he’s some kind of robot, he needs to get rid of such behavior immediately.
Your lips quirk like he’s said something funny. “You may.”
“Have I ever seemed…cold to you?” Almost as if to remind you before you answer, he holds your hand, squeezing gently, while the other hand remains on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Since we’ve been together, I mean. Have I ever acted anything like an…” Jumin cringes just saying it out loud. “Ice prince?”
The question seems to take you aback, and you blink a few times. Your eyes—warm, beautiful eyes—first stare at him with a certain confusion, then quickly become infused with a sudden anger.
“Did someone say that about you? Who was it?”
“No one,” he responds, then hastily amends, “there have always been articles calling me that. I just happened to see one today, so it was on my mind.”
Now, you really do straddle him, threading your fingers through his hair. The anger has dulled into a stubborn crossness. With a deep scowl, you kiss his forehead and say, “That is ridiculous. You have been nothing but warm to me, Jumin Han.”
The same warmth you’re talking about spreads across his cheeks, painting them pink, but you’re not done.
“Since when do you care about those articles anyway? They’ve always been inane. Remember when everyone was convinced that you would marry Sarah?” Here you huff, and he hates to admit that he loves seeing you jealous, even if over someone he never even considered getting to know. “And you had to set them straight for them to print anything accurate. Maybe I should give a press statement of my own. Ice Prince my ass.”
“Such language,” Jumin says lowly, already hiding his face in your neck. You’re still peeved, muttering things under your breath as you stroke his hair, angry kisses pressed to his skin in the middle of your rant.
Eventually, you tire yourself out, falling asleep right there on his chest, a common occurrence. He doesn’t mind it one bit, it’s actually really easy to carry you to bed. For some reason, Jumin feels much, much lighter.
///
His wife is a party planner. An event planner, technically, since you’ll take some requests for meetings as well, but it’s mostly parties. He knows that due to your marriage, there’s been an increase in the amount of clients wanting you to plan their events. Even before, you’d said your schedule had always been sporadic, revolving around whatever the current most pressing event was.
Frankly, he shouldn’t be surprised, with how masterfully you pulled off the RFA party.
He’s more than proud of you, of course. He’s now attended quite a few of the events you put together, and it always leaves him impressed. You’ve confided in him about how you’d like to either switch to a company that exclusively does weddings or start your own, and despite your protests, he’s fully prepared to finance such an endeavor when the time comes.
The only issue about your job, and his job as well, is that your schedules can be sporadic. There are days where you can work without even leaving the penthouse, and then there are days where you are running around and don’t return until 2 AM. Jumin can hardly get upset when he’s taunted the clock with his record times at coming home as well.
Can’t get upset at you, that is. Being upset at the situation is perfectly reasonable. He wants to spend time with his wife, dammit. You’re his favorite person in the world, all the things he wants to do involve being with you.
So when he’s the one who’s arriving at 2 in the morning, he deflates to see that you’re fast asleep, a couple documents and your phone in the bed next to you. How many times has he told you he would set up a separate room for you to work in? Each time, you shake your head and say all you need is your phone and laptop, and you can work anywhere. That doesn’t take into account your health, though. The place you relax should not be associated with work, or it leads to a less relaxing sleep cycle. He once read a study about that.
It might be hypocritical, but Jumin misses you. He wants to talk to you so badly it pains him, and not just longing phone calls that always leave him wanting more.
Loosening his tie, he waits for a second before falling hard onto the bed.
Your eyes flutter open immediately, and in your daze you take in your still-dressed husband. With a sleepy smile, you push away all the papers next to you to snuggle into his arms. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” One arm secured around your back, he pulls you as close to him as you can. He sees you breathe in his lingering cologne, and it makes him downright giddy that his scent seems to bring you comfort. “Shouldn’t a loving wife be waiting up for her husband?”
You yawn, throwing one leg around him. “Not when the husband returns at an ungodly time and the wife has an early morning site inspection. Did you have dinner?”
“I did. Did you?”
“Mmh. Yeah. I refrigerated some in a container if you wanna take it to work tomorrow.”
This is one of his favorite domestic things you do—and he doesn’t even think you realize how much he appreciates it. If it’s between having something from a five star restaurant or having your cooking, the latter will win each and every time. Sometimes he wants to brag to the whole world, although the most he’ll do is slip how tasty his lunch was today to Assistant Kang (who will almost always respond with a dry, “Glad to hear that, Mr. Han.”).
“I will.” Jumin kisses your lips, smiling when he feels you respond with little effort. “I’ve missed you.”
Your arms snake around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin. Jumin sighs when he feels you kiss his collarbone. “I’ve missed you too.” All he needs is your breath on his skin, or your hands on his face, or your voice filling his ears. It relaxes him instantly. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”
“I’ll be in the office all day.” Already he groans, burying his face in your hair in the hopes that it will preemptively soothe the headache sure to form tomorrow. At first he didn’t understand why you insisted on using the same hair conditioner you always did instead of a much more expensive one he could buy for you, but the smell of your hair is so exquisite that now he wholly prefers it (although there is a special kind of tingling in his chest reserved for the moments you smell like him).
“Same. After my inspection, I’m going to be meeting four new clients, and I’m going to guess they all want priority.” You roll your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is also Mr. Wang’s wedding, so I’ll be back late.”
At his wordless whine, you giggle, kissing his cheek. Then after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, a soft hum sounds from your throat.
“I have an idea.”
///
The click of Jaehee’s heels alerts him to her entrance, and Jumin straightens in his chair, accepting the papers that she hands him.
“Thank you. Have you eaten, Assistant Kang?”
Jaehee blinks at him once, then twice, like he’s grown an extra head. Then she slowly nods, the surprised expression melting back into her perfectly professional one once more. “Yes, sir. And you?”
“Not yet. I brought a container my wife packed for me.”
“Honey, I don’t think she really cares to know that.”
“I see. She is a pretty good cook if I recall correctly.”
“Everyone cares,” Jumin insists.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re so sweet, it’s annoying. I want to kiss you all the time.”
“Mr. Han, are you alright? You look a bit out of it—should I call for a doctor?”
“Do it.” He smiles at the papers in his hands. “I won’t stop you.”
“Call…call the doctor?”
“Will you kiss me back, in front of all your employees?”
“Yes. Of course. Whatever you desire.”
“Right away, sir,” Jaehee responds in a sort of strangled voice, and it’s not until he hears the click of her heels again that he remembers she was there. In almost a flash, she leaves his office.
“What did she say?”
Jumin touches the tiny earpiece that’s been on all day, adjusting it only slightly. “I honestly have no idea.”
///
Jumin hates leaving. But he does, well, what is the phrase? Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave? Something along those lines, is what you’ve said to him. He’s not sure it applies here, since he is actually leaving to go abroad for a few days, and already he’s looking forward to his reunion with you, but he didn’t expect that both of you would be so needy for each other the night before the flight.
It starts with a few kisses, a pout on your lips that he thinks he can kiss away if he just tries hard enough. Telling you in hushed whispers that he’ll miss you an unfathomable amount. Your understanding on a pragmatic level, and your clinginess the second you both laid down. Both are appreciated more than he can say.
“What if I want to watch a movie with you?”
Kiss. “Just wait a week for me, my love.”
“What if the bed is too cold and I need you to warm me up?”
Kiss. “One week, I promise. No more than a week.”
“What if aliens invade the penthouse and I have no one to protect me?”
Kiss. “Tell them that your husband is going to kill them…in a week.”
For a few minutes, it goes on like this, with you proposing other scenarios and Jumin doing his best to both reassure you and make you laugh. He lays kiss upon kiss to your lips, and perhaps subconsciously, they become more ravenous, demanding. Seeking more. Seeking your conviction on just how much you will miss him.
“Jumin,” you breathe into his mouth. Jumin, Jumin. He loves how you say his name.
You’re seeking something as well, the warmth that you are so certain will disappear along with him. On one hand, he hates that his princess has to sleep without him at all, especially when she clearly doesn’t want to. And on the other hand, knowing that you’ll be here, missing him so desperately, makes his heart flutter. You’ll miss him. You’ll miss him.
Within moments, you’re on top of him, seated on his lap and unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. He’s responding in kind, leaving love bites on your neck as he slides your night robe off your shoulders.
“What if I get lonely?” you ask, more demure than you actually are. “What if I need you, and my fingers aren’t enough?”
His hands press into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You mewl at the slight pain, and he manages to hiss, “I never want your fingers to be enough. If you wait for me, princess, I’ll make you cum more times than you can handle when I get back.” Even if just the idea of you sending him a video or even calling him as you touch yourself was incredibly appealing. Maybe next time. This week, he would have you think of nothing but his own fingers, his tongue, his cock.
And what better way to do that than to remind you how they feel?
“I’ll be gone seven days exactly.” Spoken more to your breasts than you, but he does gaze up at you reverently as he kneads them in his hands. “Maybe tonight I can make you cum once for every day I won’t be here. Would you like that?”
He jerks his thigh up against your core before you can answer, so you nod frantically, mouth falling open. “Uh huh!”
And who is Jumin to ever deny you?
///
The trip right before Valentine’s is the worst. It’s all Jumin can do to finish work before running like a madman through several different stores, picking up this and that. He insists on a different bag for each purchase, despite the clerks gently pointing out that he can put a lipstick tube in the same bag as a pair of heels and nothing will happen, but he doesn’t want to. He would like to see you open every item with a new spark of delight in your eyes.
Usually, he would return late at night, always opting to finish the day’s work and catch a flight right after instead of waiting for morning, because this way he would arrive home, gather you up in his arms as you slept soundly, and then bask in your surprise and delight when you woke the next morning.
And this time would have been no different if one of the departments had not messed up, forcing him to wake up on Valentine’s Day still out of the country. After five days’ worth of work forced into two hours, a shopping spree and a quick call with you, he nearly takes the wheel from the pilot himself before Jaehee begs him to just sit and try to enjoy the ride home. The rest of the trip, they are engaged in a glaring contest every time she looks up from the video she is watching on her laptop.
As soon as the door opens, he hears a surprised cry of his name, and then you’re barreling into him—all the bags in Jumin’s hands fall to the floor in favor of catching you and hefting you up in the air for a spin.
“I thought—“ Kiss. “That you—“ Kiss. “Weren’t coming back today!“ Deeper kiss.
“I couldn’t miss my first Valentine’s with you, my love.” The deepest kiss of all.
The two of you only stop because his bodyguards are coming into the room after him, with more bags. Your eyes widen as you take in all of them, and your sharp mind has already pieced together what’s going on. “Is this all for me?”
“Of course.” Jumin knows that the way you’re latching onto him with such a tight grip is a more priceless gift than anything in these bags. “Why don’t you open everything? I wish to see your reaction.”
And so you do. The makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the jewelry, the books, the decor, all of fine quality and all things well thought out with your interests in mind. With every single item, no matter how big or small, you gasp, or squeal, or simply smile ever so widely. And without fail, you kiss him right on the lips each time.
Jumin is dizzy only halfway into the opening process—he must start buying you gifts far more often if this is the reward he gets.
However, you see beyond just his outward appearance, and you place the next bag he hands you aside without so much as a glimpse at it before clambering onto his lap. Hands on his cheeks, your thumbs smooth over where he’s sure eyebags are forming. “My poor Juju,” you whisper, “you look really tired, honey.”
Honey, honey, honey. How joyful he feels when you call him honey. “As always, you see right through me. I can’t hide from you, can I?”
“I never want you to hide from me.” A sweet kiss pressed to his cheek makes his stomach jump, like he’s a teenage boy with a crush. “Let’s lay down, shall we? We can finish opening everything afterwards.”
Jumin concedes, rising hand in hand with you until you’re both on the bed, curled up in each other. “What a terrible Valentine’s this turned out to be. I’m sorry, my love.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him slow, soft and smooth. “What are you talking about? You’re here where I can hold you, we’re both off work, and you’ve gifted me more than anyone else ever has or will in my life.”
“Good,” he says, satisfied that he’s set a standard that no one else can ever match for you. “But is that…enough?”
“Enough?” Your tone is incredulous. “Jumin, just you being here is more than enough. I love you so, so much, and I—“ You cut yourself off, slightly backing up as though you’re trying not to overwhelm him (a ridiculous notion, he would love nothing more than for you to overwhelm his every sense). “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have married you.”
This time he kisses you, the idea of sleep slipping further and further away because really, why should he close his eyes when he can only see you when they’re open? Why should he rob himself of the privilege to gaze upon your lovely face and listen to your quiet, soothing voice? Why should he do anything else, eat or drink or work or play, when he could simply kiss you for the rest of his life?
“I love you,” he breathes, pulling you closer because you simply can never be close enough. “Happy Valentine’s, my precious wife.”
///
Of course, the first time your schedule allows you to accompany him on a business trip he’s ecstatic. Finally a week without the headache of returning to an empty hotel room, and instead what will feel like more of a vacation, especially once he completes the necessary work and the two of you can spend the rest of the days lazing by the beach.
Because of the honeymoon, Jumin had become well acquainted with your fear of flying, and had arranged your seats in his private jet to be close together. As the jet takes off, he holds your hand in his as you squeeze, eyes shut tightly for the takeoff. Reassuringly, he kisses your hand, rubbing the back of it while his other hand strokes Elizabeth the Third’s head through the carrier she’s in.
“Poor Elizabeth,” you manage to whimper, still looking quite pale even after the takeoff is done, “I hope she doesn’t get airsick.”
“She doesn’t,” Jumin reassures. Elizabeth is used to such flights, unlike you. He’d much rather you focus on your own health right now.
The stewardess for the flight comes through with the cart of food and drinks. “Anything for you, Mr. Han?”
“A glass of wine.”
“Of course, sir. And you, Mrs. Han?”
“Oh, um…” You smile sheepishly up at her. “Would you happen to have apple juice?”
The woman blinks once, then, as though she’s fighting back a laugh, says, “Apple juice, ma’am?”
“Is that a problem?” Jumin cuts in sharply before you can answer, glaring daggers.
“No, no! O-of course I can give you apple juice, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend—“
“No offense taken.” Even nauseous and teased, you smile kindly, eyes lighting up when you have your drink. If he remembers correctly, he used to drink apple juice when he would get airsick as a child as well.
When the stewardess leaves, you lean over and press an apple-tasting kiss to his lips, and he catches a few drops of the juice in his mouth. It tastes yummy, or maybe it’s just the taste of you that he likes.
Probably the latter. Either way, he’s eager to get this vacation started.
///
“I feel so good that you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. I…never want to let you go.”
…
“I’ve trapped you here, haven’t I?” he asks one night, after he thinks you’ve fallen asleep.
You’re wide awake, though, and he feels your lips on his throat as you whisper, “I’ve never once felt trapped with you, Jumin.”
///
You’re a lightweight, and it’s the most adorable thing Jumin has ever seen. Including cat photos. Including Elizabeth the Third. And you don’t realize just how cute you are, which only makes you cuter.
“Juju,” you whine, when he starts to guide you to bed.
“You have to sleep, my dear.” Almost smugly, he places a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Sleep and allow me to take care of you in the morning.”
The protest you seemed to be ready to fire back morphs into a happy giggle as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “I do like when you take care of me.”
“Likewise.”
For some reason, that sends you into more giggles as you press against him. “You talk so smart like. I love when you use big words.”
Biting back a smile, Jumin raises a brow. “Is likewise a big word?”
“Anything is a big word when you say it.” You kiss him softly, sliding your hands in his hair. You love messing up his hair, almost as much as he loves letting you do it. “You’re so smart. So clever. Your brain is like…” To exaggerate your point, you lean your head away, with his hands on your back to keep steady. “Soooo huge.”
“Not the only thing,” he hums slyly.
“Jumin!” Laughing, you hit his shoulder, only for him to tug you in close, making you squeak. The only downside to how well you two know each other now is that he doesn’t get to see your beautifully embarrassed face, but he still gets some wins when he catches you off guard.
“I’m only kidding, my love.” Watching your lips part for him as he leans in, Jumin kisses you this time, gently sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Let no one say he wasn’t out and open with his oral fixation when it came to you. “I’m honored to know you find me intelligent.”
You beam, nearly blinding him with how brilliant your smile is. “Intelligent, and funny. So, so funny. I love your jokes.” Now you turn your cheek, placing sloppy kisses along his jaw. “And handsome. I have the most handsome husband in the world.”
Jumin, only now realizing the difference between being happy and being giddy and knowing he’s both, can only close his eyes, tilting his head back. “Ironic for you to say, considering no one with your beauty has ever existed before nor will exist again.”
The way your cheeks flush make him realize that he, too, must be quite tipsy. Surely his stomach does not flip so violently just to see how your eyes glow at his praise.
“I love you.” You swallow, and he watches the movement of your throat closely. “Do you know how much?”
He exhales, not having realized he inhaled before. “M-more than is reasonable, I presume.”
“A lot more than is reasonable,” you whisper before kissing him again. This one is different, he can tell. Something more desperate. More wanting. More likely to make him lose his mind.
How does he know? It’s because you’re not just kissing him, you’re also borderline riding the knee he’s slotting between your legs. With a whine, you tug on his collar, as though you want him closer. Need him closer.
Losing his mind is just the beginning.
“Sit on the couch.” The tone with which you beg makes his already hardening cock twitch. “Please, Jumin.”
He obeys—how could he not obey?—and just the sight of you dropping to your knees to unbuckle his pants has him throwing his head back with a lustful groan. How did he get here? How did he get so lucky?
You kiss the head of his cock, and Jumin is gone.
When you start bobbing your head, eagerly sucking with your eyes closed in concentration, it takes every inch of willpower he has ever had to not cum immediately, so that this can last. With every slow caress of your tongue, he can feel himself getting lost in his own base senses, every coherent thought fading away and leaving only an animalistic need.
“Princess,” he moans, fingers in your hair. His words escape him in a slurred, barely coherent manner. “I, ahh, won’t last—shit—”
Coming inside your warm, wet mouth is not in the top five moments he remembers when he thinks of his favorite times with you, because he likes to think he’s classier than that, but regardless, he’s never going to forget this.
///
Growing up, the one trait that he was always told to avoid and to find disdainful in others was laziness. There is nothing worse than a person who is not efficient. People who waste time just doing simple tasks are not worth his time, he was told.
But surely, surely, that does not apply to you. (Or maybe it’s a silly lesson in the first place, another one to add the list he has started to garner since he married you.)
It does not apply when you have to get up early for work and you sadly try cuddling with him in the five minutes you have left to remain in bed. Most days Jumin leaves before you, pressing a kiss to the lips of the princess in bed before heading out. Your parted lips in sleep do such a number on him that he has to make sure not to linger too long.
Days where your job demands you wake with him are no less enjoyable, and perhaps even more so as he gets to witness your clinginess. Jumin tugs you to the bathroom, where you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as both of you brush your teeth. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he seats you on the chair by the counter and amuses himself by watching your sleepy eyes follow him while he makes a quick breakfast.
“Maybe I could eat ‘n your lap?” you ask cutely, poking at your scrambled eggs with a fork.
“My dear,” Jumin answers, intertwining your fingers to kiss the back of your hand, “I would love nothing more, but you will fall asleep again.”
Not even an argument as you nod with a lazy smile, head falling forward on the counter. “I want to fall asleep again. How do you do this every day?”
“It’s what I’ve always done.” He’s finished with his eggs, so he stands, sweeping your hair aside to lean down and press a kiss to your nape. You squeal, squirming away as he catches you and tugs you to him, watching you immediately give up this play fight and snuggle into his chest to catch a bout of standing shut-eye. “Now come, Driver Kim is waiting to drop us both off.”
You shake your head, clutching onto him stubbornly.
“You can sleep on my lap in the car.”
And he feels inordinately pleased with how fast you move after that.
///
The days that he knows you will be at the penthouse when he returns, there’s always an extra breath in his steps, as if the air itself knows he must return home immediately.
Tonight, for example. He has a whole night planned. The two of you would cook the next thing to try on that list of recipes you printed and excitedly taped up in the kitchen, then after dinner he plans to play some soft music and waltz you around the rather spacious living room, and then both of you could go for a swim in the pool, and the night would end with you dozing off in his arms.
A perfect night. The kind he dreams about, the kind that he never can quite believe are real.
When he opens the door, he doesn’t hear any call of his name nor is he tackled in a hug, which only makes his shoulders deflate slightly. Elizabeth the Third softly mrrows at him from where she’s sitting on the couch. Placing a kiss atop her head, he pokes in to check a few rooms, searching for his wife.
You’re nowhere to be found. The only place left to check is the bedroom. His sweetheart usually doesn’t fall asleep so early, though.
He opens the door, then freezes in his tracks.
With a couple of candles lit up around the room, you sit on the bed, nothing on except the set of lingerie he ordered a few weeks ago at your request, black as the night sky (“because it reminds me of you”). A few pillows support you as you lean back, eyes trained on him. There’s a glass of wine in your hands, and another on the table next to you clearly reserved for him.
You take a small sip, and some drops purposefully miss your lips and slowly drip down your neck, down over the swell of your breasts.
“Care to join me, husband?”
Jumin swallows.
None of his plans end up coming to fruition that night, and he doesn’t mind one bit.
///
(You’ve pointed out how the most random things turn him on—when you wear his clothes, but specifically his striped shirts, when you let him buy something ludicrously expensive for you, when you do simple things to take care of him, when you wait for him at home after work, cat ears—cat ears, cat ears, cat ears!—and the rare moments where he gets to see you pissed off.
But he’d only responded how the things you were into were equally as random—seeing him disheveled after a hard day’s work or a visit to the gym, the way he answered business calls simply by saying Jumin Han speaking, what do you need, and every time you’re naked on his lap while he’s fully clothed.
Shall I remind you how desperate you get, my dear? he growls into your ear. Your cheeks flush, and Jumin reaches for the ribbon in the drawer, even more impatient than you are.)
///
There are other times where Jumin will arrive home and if you aren’t leaping into his arms, kissing him full on the lips as he spins you around or pins you to the wall depending on the mood, you’re sitting on the couch, typing away on your laptop either for your job or for the RFA.
In those moments, he finds himself easily sliding his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, absolutely reveling in the subconscious way you rub his nape and kiss his hair.
Sometimes you both will exchange stories of your day, expanding on something a phone call simply couldn’t cover or something that perhaps you had wanted to say in person to fully soak in the reaction (you seem to particularly enjoy how he insults the difficult clients you tell him about). Other times, there is a serene silence, only broken by Elizabeth the Third’s purring and the clack of your keyboard keys.
You smell so good, all the time. He wonders if he should be capitalizing on the perfume you use so that no one else can buy it. That way this scent would solely be yours, just like he is. Something about that idea blooms a warmth in his chest.
The best part of the night comes when you finish, closing the laptop and setting it aside before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you,” you say, only for his ears, just like how your lips are only for his skin, just like how your scent is only for his nose, just like how Jumin is only here to be yours entirely.
///
In the past, when he’s fallen ill, he’s either ignored it or simply just taken the necessary amount of time to recover. The last time he was pampered like this was as a child by his nannies. And even their doting paled in comparison to yours (but then, didn’t everything, when it came to you).
Because this. This, is heavenly.
Every single ounce of your affection is solely for him. Your soup that you feed him, your fingers stroking his hair, your voice sweetly singing him to sleep. Your lips on his forehead, whispering, “How are you feeling, Juju?”
Granted, because he’s sick, he can’t fully appreciate it without the feeling that his body is turning against him. But it’s worth it, it’s easily worth it.
So, the day that he wakes up with a low temperature, feeling absolutely fine, he still manages to cough pitifully and throw out the word to Jaehee that he simply has to take another day off.
You have a knowing smile on your face, but when he slips his arms around your waist, with his face buried in your neck, you still hold him just as warmly, and Jumin is so, so, so in love with you. Nothing could possibly stand to be better than this. One hand absentmindedly strokes his hair while you type on your phone with the other hand, communicating with someone from work.
Your phone starts to ring; he only shifts minimally to get closer as you answer it. “Hey, what’s up?”
He can hear the person who called—it’s one of your friends. “Hey! Check your messages, I won that ukulele I told you I would win last time.”
The sound of your laugh is so melodious, he’d do anything to get drunk on it. “Win another one for me, I’ll hang it up in my closet.”
“Yeah, right.” Your friend snorts. “I wish you were able to come. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”
“I know, but Jumin really doesn’t feel well. I couldn’t just leave him at home alone.” As though your friend can see, you plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll go another time, definitely.”
“I’ll hold you to it. Alright, I have to go. Give the husband all my love, I hope he feels better.”
“Will do. Bye, have fun!”
With that, you hang up, resuming the scrolling through your phone and the stroking of his hair. Jumin is still, for good reason.
You had meant to go out with your friends today. And due to his not-actually-sick state, you had canceled on them.
Hadn’t he told you to put him second to your own self? But he can’t pin this on you, not when he was the one faking. A terrible feeling begins to rise in his chest, causing him to move away from you and stare at you with a guilty expression.
“Is your neck finally tired of…” You trail off when you look at him, furrowing your brows. “What happened?”
“You were meant to go out today.”
A small frown forms on your face. “Um…we made plans, yeah. But you were sick—“
“I wasn’t,” he confesses, ironically sick to his stomach. “I just wanted to take another day off and spend some time with you.”
“I know that.”
“I—you know?”
The frown on your face is replaced by a tiny smile, as you tug gently to bring him back into your arms. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
“Yes I am.” He pouts, still upset but more calm now that you don’t seem disappointed.
“Honey, the one time I kissed your finger after you got a papercut, you somehow got a papercut on every finger the following week.”
Jumin blushes, but you’re not wrong—he just craves your attention. You simply make everything better.
“More importantly,” and now you pull him into your chest, settling back into the same comfortable position with a kiss on his forehead, “I’m faking just as much as you, because I love it when you do things like this. Why would I complain? I get to spend time with you.”
This is what it feels like, Jumin is certain, to be loved. To be cared for and adored so deeply that it leaves an ache in one’s chest. “The next time,” he murmurs, as your hand finds purchase in his hair once more, “The next time you would like to go out to an amusement park with your friends, please let me know. I can buy it out for the day.” A thoughtful pause. “Or forever.”
Another soft kiss, he’s tempted to keep going, to make more and more outrageous promises just to earn each and every press of your lips to his skin. “My friends will appreciate that. I think the park is already owned by C&R, actually.” You chuckle. “Some fast passes though? I wouldn’t say no.”
Fast passes? He’ll ask you what in the world those are just as soon as he finishes kissing you (something a fake sick person can, thankfully, afford to do).
///
A soft knock on the door.
“Mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice to a polite volume. “I’ve played with all my toys. May I please come out now?”
Silence.
Jumin clears his throat, trying his best not to look behind him, just three steps down. It’s dark down there, and he knows it is not logical to be afraid of the dark, but even the logic does little to quell the growing fear inside him.
“Mother? It…it has been a few hours now.” Fourteen hours, he counted on the tiny clock that ticks a little too loudly in the basement. “May I please be let out? I’m starting to get hungry.”
That’s a lie, but he doesn’t think she’ll know. The truth is he began to get hungry hours ago, and is now close to starving. As if on cue, his stomach growls.
Jumin knocks again, the dread he feels growing with every second. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I’ll play with my toys. I’ll be normal. Please let me out.”
None of it makes any sense to him. In all the books he reads, none of the mothers lock their sons up in the basement. But then maybe none of the sons are as strange and abnormal as he is. They didn’t need to be locked up like he did.
Still, even if he deserves this, the loneliness is starting to scare him.
“Please.” Childish tears start to prick at his eyes. “Mother? I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”
The only response he gets is the silence, beckoning him to come back to the darkness where he belongs. With a trembling lip, he turns to face it once more.
The doorknob jiggles.
He whips his head back, not daring to believe it. Is this punishment finally over?
The first thing he’s going to do after he eats is call Jihyun, ask him if he’d like to go to the park nearby. Anything to go outside, in the light, with other people.
Except, to his horror, when the door finally opens, it’s not his mother standing at the top, but his stepmother.
“No,” Jumin whispers, stumbling back. He misses one step and trips, hands on the cement floor as he stares, terrified, at the woman. “Please, no. Where’s Mother?”
The woman at the top laughs, a sound that seems to make others happy but only serves to suffocate him further. He’ll choose to stay in the darkness for a hundred more hours before going upstairs to see her. “What’s this? Another woman in your life, Jumin? What a lady killer!”
He shakes his head desperately, as though to tell her that there’s no one, there’s no need for her to get possessive.
It doesn’t work.
“I’m your mother, Jumi.” He hates that nickname. “Shouldn’t you spend more time with me? You know I love our time together. I know you love it too.”
No, no, no, no, no. He’s on his feet in an instant, scrambling back away from her as fast as possible. His back hits the shelf, no longer a child but an adult, and yet still equally as pathetic.
“Your father doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore. You’re all I have, Jumi.” Her eyes turn cold. “But it looks like you’ve found someone else, haven’t you? You’ve replaced me so easily.”
Now her gaze is focused somewhere else. Jumin follows it, peers through the darkness, only to see…
You.
Relief floods his chest all at once. You are his solace, to hold close and worship. You are the only person to ever understand him, to love him without hurting him. You have accepted him no matter how much he’s shown you that he doesn’t deserve any of your care. As long as you are by his side, he can face anything.
“Jumin.” Even his name sounds so much nicer coming from you. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away.
He takes one step towards you.
You speak again, but it doesn’t sound the same this time.
“Jumin.” Now that he can see your face properly, you look…angry. “Don’t come any closer.”
Immediately, he stops, and that sharp fear grips his throat, squeezing.
“You’re fucked up, Jumin.”
The words spit out of you like a spear, hitting him right in the center.
It can’t be you talking. You don’t say things like that. You always tell him you love him, that you understand him, that you adore him.
But maybe you’ve just…had enough.
Tears begin to spill from his eyes. You stand before him, his heart in your hands, and you look at him with such disgust that he hopes the darkness in here opens up and swallows him.
“I’m leaving,” you say firmly, “don’t follow me.”
“Please,” he gasps, shakily reaching a hand out. “Please don’t leave me here, my love.”
But you don’t listen. You step up the stairs, grip the door, and with one last look of vitriol, you slam it shut, damning him to the darkness forever.
Jumin wakes with a gasp that’s really a sob, head jerking up and slamming against yours.
“Ah!” You grip your forehead, wincing in pain from your position above him. “Ow ow ow, that hurt!”
Like he’s in auto mode, Jumin sits up, touching your cheek with a terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, my love, let me call the doctor. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m fine.” You wince again, rubbing your forehead. “It’ll probably bruise later, but I can deal with it.”
He hurt you. He hurt you.
But you don’t have any of the hate that your dream counterpart did in her eyes. Instead, yours are filled with concern, and you cup his cheeks with such gentleness that he closes his eyes, immediately melting in your hands.
“Were you having a nightmare?” You kiss his forehead. “You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep.”
As much as he wants to bask in your worry for centuries, it doesn’t stop the guilt that threatens to spill. “I apologize for waking you, my love. And for hitting you. I—I was having a nightmare, yes, but I’m alright now.”
“Jumin.”
“If you’d like, I can make some tea for you to help you go back to sleep—“
“Jumin.” Your lips are on his forehead again. “You’re crying, sweetheart.”
So he is. It’s strange he didn’t realize, but there are indeed tears wetting his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet your gaze, looking at him so sincerely and with such care that this time he actually feels the tears pour down.
“Oh,” you breathe, brows meeting in concern. Your thumbs wipe his tears away diligently, and your lips begin to kiss every spot you wipe. Jumin trembles under your touch, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of you and simultaneously considering crying forever so that you stay here forever too. “What is it, honey? Please tell me how I can help.”
He wants to. But all he can manage to do is grip the back of your shirt in his hands, bury his face in your shoulder, and sob.
Not even for a second do you let him go. He doesn’t know how long he stays in your arms, seconds, minutes or hours. He cries, and cries, and cries, until his eyes feel swollen. and all the while your hand strokes his hair, your lips kiss his cheek, and your voice comes out in soothing whispers.
It’s okay.
I’m right here, I’m here for you.
You have me forever.
We’re going to get through this.
I promise I’ll stay with you as long as you want.
Even though he hasn’t told you what his nightmare was about, you still somehow know exactly what to say.
Even when he finally tires himself out, Jumin can’t stand the thought of not being held by you. He’s never felt this safe, this protected, in his entire life. He continues to grip your shirt tightly, breathing in and out, chest heaving. Any second now, he thinks. Any second now, you’re going to pull away and see how awful he is when he clings to you again, like a child.
You do no such thing. Instead, you lean back against the headboard, gently guiding his head to rest on your chest. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he shifts so that he’s sitting curled into you and pulls you forward gently to place a pillow behind your back. This way, he can hear your heartbeat.
And it’s that steady rhythm that makes his eyes start to droop.
But if he falls asleep again, he risks having another nightmare.
“Sleep,” you murmur, kissing his temple. Jumin’s eyes close on instinct. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The promise knocks him right out.
///
When he wakes, you’ve kept your promise, and you’re in the same unfortunate position, head lulled to the side as you snooze.
An indescribable feeling settles upon him. It’s not just one feeling, in fact, but multiple. Guilt, because he forced you to sleep like this throughout the night. Gratitude, because he’s pretty sure he’s in the arms of an angel sent from above. And most importantly, he feels white hot love, because he has clearly married the only person in this world worth a damn.
And as much as he wants to stay like this, he knows that will surely not bode well for the chiropractor appointment he plans to schedule for you. So Jumin slips out of your embrace gently, taking good care to lay your head down on the pillow. With you picturesque in front of him, he places a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”
“Ju,” you mumble in your sleep. Your hand seems to reach for something, stopping when he intertwines his fingers with yours.
An angel, indeed.
Jumin gets up fully, taking the time to brush his teeth and freshen up before going into the kitchen to whip something up for breakfast. He wasn’t expected at the office until after lunch, so he had time to really make something nice. Chocolate chip pancakes, instead of his usual strawberry.
As he makes the batter, he thinks. Last night was…an anomaly. There should be no reason for him to dream of people that no longer matter anymore. His present is the most important, and his present is, thanks to you, leagues and leagues ahead of his past anyway. He wants to forget it all, forget his mother and stepmother and even Sarah Choi, who, while she hadn’t made an appearance last night, had been in his nightmares more than once, in a bleak alternate reality where he actually married her.
But he knows who he really married. It’s the person whose arms are sneaking around his waist right now. You.
“Morning.” Your voice is exceedingly pleasant, especially when it’s cooed in his ear. “You’re going in late, right?”
“Yes.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand, pressing his lips to each knuckle. “And you, my princess?”
“All from home today, my prince.”
Inwardly, he feels a quick twinge of irritation. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you. I should call out.”
“I’m never going to dissuade you of that.” You kiss him right on the nape of his neck; Jumin shudders. “But it’s up to you.”
“I’ll end up burning these pancakes if you keep distracting me.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.” Your laugh is so pretty, he thinks, and he didn’t think he could describe laughter as pretty before you. “Um, before I get too off topic…don’t you think we should talk, Jumin?”
He knew you weren’t going to simply forget the fact that he had cried himself back to sleep last night. Luckily, before you’d woken, he’d already prepared for such a scenario.
“I apologize for disrupting your sleep. I had a disturbing dream, but it will not happen again.”
For a second, he thinks it’s enough to stop you from asking any further questions, up until he feels your arms slide out from under him. The next thing he knows, you’re turning off the stove before he can start on the next batch of pancakes.
Then, you’re gently turning him so he’s facing you, looking at you right in the eye. Jumin has seen that look before. It’s way too determined for even his stubborn nature, and it always comes out when you’re about to do whatever you want (a rare delight, given your selfless nature, but one he enjoys every time).
Your hands loop around his neck, and you kiss his cheek. Jumin closes his eyes as you speak softly. “Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”
It’s amazing that you think anything could bother him when you’re this close, calling him that.
“Just a nightmare,” he says softly, but you clearly don’t buy it.
“I have nightmares too, it’s very rare that one of them affects me that much after I wake up.”
“A bad nightmare.”
The other version of you flashes in his head again. You’re fucked up, Jumin. But she’s not you, and even though he thinks for a terrible second that you’re going to shove him away, you pull him in for a hug instead, warm and welcoming and cozy. The scent of your nameless-brand shampoo fills his senses—it makes him desperately want to go back to bed.
“Please,” you breathe on his neck. “That’s what you were saying last night. Please, Mother. Please, no. Please, don’t leave me.”
His hands grip the back of your shirt.
“Please talk to me, Jumin,” you plead. “Please.”
Somehow, he has to keep from crying this time. How pathetic can one man be? But he also has to acquiesce to your request, because you’re you, and he cannot deny you no matter how hard he tries. If you want him bare, you shall have him bare. If you want him destroyed, he will destroy himself in an instant.
“Alright,” he concedes, trembling.
Not wanting the kitchen, where you and him cook together and laugh together (and a couple other things too), to become associated with these tainted memories, he guides you to the couch, hands holding yours. You promptly get into your favorite position, on his lap with your knees on each side. With a sigh, he rests his head on your shoulder, the fabric of your shirt seemingly smoothing out the creases in his forehead.
Your lips on his skin and your whispered words of encouragement give him a courage he wasn’t aware he possessed. Jumin talks.
“You have not met my mother yet. There is…good reason for that. A week before our wedding, she sent me the profile of a woman she wanted me to marry. I refused, of course. But that is the first time she has reached out to me in years.” He clears his throat. “She and I did not have a pleasant relationship. I think some part of me was very disappointing to her, because instead of giving her the true challenge of parenthood I molded to exactly what she wanted me to be. She recognized that I was…abnormal.”
In the span of a few seconds, your eyes have hardened more than he’s ever seen them harden before. This isn’t determined. This isn’t even pissed. This is raw anger.
“Abnormal?” There’s a bite to your words. “Is that her way of saying she was blessed with an intelligent, kind child?”
“You are kind,” Jumin whispers, cupping your chin to press a short kiss to your lips. “As a child, I was perhaps more robotic than I am now. I took to the world of business rather quickly.”
“You were brilliant, Jumin. Were and still are.”
If he kisses you after your every reassurance, the two of you will never leave this couch (not that he necessarily minds that idea). The more disturbing risk is that he will break down in front of you, if he starts elaborating, not to mention when he begins to talk about his stepmother as well.
But that’s a risk that Jumin can now accept. He understands now, that he hasn’t known love before you, and that there will be a great many times he will feel afraid, but he also knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more.
Taking a deep breath, he continues.
///
Jumin is addicted—addicted—to making you cum.
The face you make when you orgasm—eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream, head thrown back—is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He considers spending eternity with his head between your legs, recklessly licking you to completion again and again.
The sounds you make—God. They have him rolling his hips against the sheets, so close to finishing just from your taste. It’s an obsession now, one that’s been growing ever since you two were married. A stressful day or a bad meeting or even projects being set back for whatever reason, Jumin can get all that frustration out as long as you allow him to spread your legs and devour you. As long as you squeal on his tongue, make a mess of his face, cum on his lips once or twice or more. He only stops when you beg him to.
He could taste you forever.
But he reconsiders this commitment after he experiences the feeling of you coming on his cock once more.
A choked cry escapes him when he feels your walls clench around him. For a second, he can’t move, too lost in the way your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin. It’s the most pleasurable pain he’s ever had the fortune of experiencing.
“Ju-min,” you whine, legs clasping around his waist as he continues to thrust lazily, seeking his own release, “more, please.”
It really is always nice to know that he’s not the only one affected, enthralled and addicted to this madness.
///
Returning home to silence is still better than returning home to the sound of soft crying.
Jumin is on high alert in an instant, not bothering to take his suit or even his shoes off. You’re curled up on the couch, wiping your cheeks aggressively when you catch sight of him.
“J-Jumin, I didn’t hear you come in. Um…” You swallow, dried tears still obvious on your face. “I haven’t made anything, let me call the chef.”
He crosses the rug over to you almost blindly. There’s nothing else in his head, only you—your tears—you’re crying—you’re crying and he wasn’t here. His hands cup your face, wiping another fresh tear that rolls down your cheek as you look up at him, shaking.
“Who did it?” There’s a white-hot anger pulsing inside of him. He never sees you cry. “Tell me who I need to kill.”
A soft gasp escapes you, and you shake your head frantically as he sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his own and pressing reverent kisses to your knuckles. “N-no one did anything—I promise I’m fine, h-honey, please get up—“
Your laptop is set to the side, but the only thing on it is an email draft, giving him no clues at all. The last thing he desires is for you to have to recount that which distresses you, but he wants, needs, to ensure that you never get upset again.
“My love,” he swears, pressing his palms to yours, “please, tell me what happened. Was it something I did? One of the employees in the building?”
You whisper frantically, “No,” but even as you do another fresh wave of tears drip down your face.
Jumin wants to scream, wants to hurt someone, whoever is responsible, but he’s helpless, and so he lets intuition guide him, rising up until he’s next to you on the couch, and he’s pulling you in.
With a firm grip on his suit, you bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking. In this moment, he recalls the predicament from that night, when the roles were reversed. How you’d simply let him cry, and held him all the while. Is he capable of…can he possibly bring you the same peace you bring him? Could you allow him to comfort you in the same way?
No matter what, he’s going to try. Anything for you.
Placing a kiss to your hair, he tightens his arms around you and murmurs sweet nothings, making sure you hear all of them. Everything from you’re the strongest person i know to i’m here for you, my love, i’ll be with you till the end of time.
“It’s just so much,” you finally hiccup, sniffing, “I’m busy all the time, they dump every project on me, I never get a chance to just take some time for myself and breathe! I’m always on some call, writing some email, visiting some area, I just want it all to stop. And you’re busier than me, and you do it so effortlessly, I can’t imagine how pathetic I must look compared to you.”
“You’re worth a hundred of me.” His voice is fierce, and he meets your eyes with his entire honest conviction. “Nothing about you is pathetic. You…you’re hardworking, you’re talented, you’re brave, and you’re the kindest person I know. I do not deserve you. I’ve never deserved you.”
“Please don’t say that,” you whimper, face still wet. He squeezes you tighter.
“I apologize. This isn’t about me. You need a break, sweetheart. Please, just request a week or at least a day off.”
“Jumin, I can’t—”
“I’ll request off too. Whenever you get a break, I’ll schedule one at the same time, and then I’ll take you wherever you desire, or we can simply spend it in the penthouse, and lay in bed all day. Or I could buy your company,” he half threatens, half jokes.
You let out a weak laugh, sinking into him, but he feels the tension in your shoulders release just slightly. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he quickly texts for the chef to come by within the next hour, then tosses his phone aside to hold you better, which is when he catches sight of your own phone. On the screen is an image of the chatroom—a screenshot, he realizes, since his own messages are in it and he hasn’t been on the messenger today.
Your gaze follows his, and a slight smile finally forms on your face. “Messages from when we first met. Ah, the day I came to your apartment, I think.”
Oh, no. To put it lightly, those days were not a good time for him (although he’d never say such a thing, because he finds it cruel to say that some of the hardest days of his life included the one where he met the most wonderful woman in the world). Heaven knows what foolish things he’d said, he’s tried to block out most of the times that didn’t include the sight of you in front of him.
“They calm me down,” you admit softly, “the screenshots I have. I’m glad I took them, I have almost a hundred pictures that remind me of all the butterflies I would get when I talked to you. Knowing you’re my husband is the biggest calm of the storm.” Your cheeks are still stained with tears, but in your eyes is a newfound admiration as you and him look at each other, as though you have all the time in the world.
Jumin’s heart seizes.
“I’ll request a week off.” You reach up, a thumb on his cheek. “Thank you, Jumin.”
Surely, he thinks, being needed by you is the best experience of all.
///
“Thank you.” Your voice breaks the silence, muffled on his skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”
Your husband kisses you, impatient as always, and you adore it.
“You’re welcome,” he breathes.
#jumin x reader#jumin x mc#jumin han#mystic messenger#mysme x reader#jumin han x reader#jumin han x mc#jumin han smut#valkyrie stories
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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for resplendeo; Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing.
Batman pulls his cowl back up, because he’s Bruce Wayne and people would recognize him if he didn’t, and Billy flees as adult-ly as possible back to the meeting room. Everyone else is still there, including a very clearly tense Robin, and Billy has absolutely no idea what to say.
“Um, so–” he tries to start, and Robin immediately bristles and draws himself up to his full height.
“Silence!” he snaps, baring his teeth at him. “I want nothing to do with you. I have nothing to do with you.”
“I mean, that’s not actually true?” Billy says, trying not to wince. “Like the soulmate thing is definitely a thing. If you don’t want me around, I understand, just first can I try to–”
“I do not want you! You are superfluous!” Robin snarls, and, well, at least Billy knows why he’s picking the specific insults he’s picking this time. Though he doesn’t really know why Robin is so convinced of that even thinking that they’re familial soulmates. What’s wrong with having more family members?
Like, ones who aren’t asshole uncles who’ll steal your inheritance and leave you homeless and destitute on the street just for kicks, he means. Obviously.
Maybe Robin’s had an asshole uncle or two in his family. Billy can understand that. But also, like . . . that’s really not what’s happening here, so . . . he really needs to figure out how to, like, spin this or something. Or . . . something.
“I would really like to talk to you first,” Billy says. “Like–just if you let me–”
“No!” Robin snaps, clenching his fists as his shoulders stiffen. “You are unnecessary and I want nothing to do with you! I have a father, and he is neither dead nor derelict in his duties and I have no desire for–Father, I want nothing to do with him, don’t give me to some other–I am your son and I don’t want a different father!”
“Oh,” Batman says quietly, and Billy cringes in guilt. Oh. Okay.
He really, really didn’t mean to make Robin feel like his dad wouldn’t want him just because he had a soulmate.
Shit.
Batman opens his mouth and starts to say something, but the speed of Mercury and also guilt gets there first.
“Please don’t freak out, I promise I’m not your dad,” Billy says with another cringe, half-covering his face with a hand, and Robin–pauses, and frowns.
“Wait, what?” Green Lantern says with a frown of his own. “You said you were the kid’s soulmate.”
“I mean . . .” Billy winces, then drags his hand down his face. “I am? Just, uh–right, okay, so I maybe kind of joined the Justice League under pretenses that in a certain light might appear to be false and I am so sorry for how weird I have made . . . literally all of this, pretty much, pretty much everything ever? Also, um. Shazam.”
The lightning hits in a blinding flash. Captain Marvel disappears.
Everyone says absolutely nothing. A whole lot of nothing.
Then Green Arrow falls out of his seat.
“Marvel,” Flash says, just staring at Billy. “What the actual, literal, entire fuck.”
“What the hell, Cap?!” Green Lantern yells. Billy, since he’s now not incapable of acting like a sassy little bastard with a heart of brass at best, just shrugs and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
“Should you guys be swearing in front of the children like that?” he asks skeptically. Green Lantern makes a strangled noise. Green Arrow manages to fall out of his seat again without actually having successfully gotten back into it.
“Is this your true form?” Wonder Woman asks, looking perplexed. Billy shrugs. Black Canary puts her face in her hands.
“You–you are grounded, Mister,” she says.
“No I’m not,” Billy says, making a face at her. “You can’t ground me, my parents are too dead for you to tell on me, and I’ll just Captain Marvel myself away if you try and stick me back in foster care. So there.”
Black Canary keeps her face in her hands and makes a very pained sound, for some reason. Superman looks very, very stressed out.
Robin just tilts his head, looking much less upset than before. So that’s something, Billy figures. Like, that was what he was going for here, with ‘fessing up to this and all. He really was not intending to confess to this before Robin happened.
“I see,” Robin says after a moment, narrowing his eyes assessingly as he looks Billy over. Billy resists the stupid urge to straighten his hoodie. “So you are a romantic soulmate to me, not a familial one. And you are also a nigh-unstoppable force of magic in possession of incredible godly powers.”
“I . . . technically, I guess?” Billy says, not sure how to take that.
“But you are also a literal twelve year-old,” Robin says, his eyes narrowing a little more.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Billy says with a grimace. Robin frowns.
“I really don’t know how I feel about this,” he says.
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▸ Assassin Jaehyun x Assassin Female reader
▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Gore, MATURE
▸ JAEHYUN SMUT SERIES: FUCK, MARRY, KILL
▸ VOLUME I: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3
Summary: The start of a new life. Training to be an assassin and a chance to experience true love. The son of the leader of the Jeong clan fell in love with you while you two live your lives as assassins. He promised a quiet life, but when things went south. You decided to leave Jaehyun… and hide your daughter from him.
VOLUME I: PART 1 WORD COUNT: 7,889k
Warnings: THIS FIC IS FICTION ONLY, Smut, smut, smut, MATURE THEMES, Heavy description of killings because most of the characters are assassins, mentions of blood, character death, A LOT OF NCT MEMBERS WILL D WORD IN THIS FIC, unprotected sex, mentions of condoms, mentions of pill, pregnancy, swearing, mentions of alcohol. Mentions of being an orphan, Not everything is proofread, apologies again. I hope I did not forget anything.
A/N: I will cut VOLUME I into three parts, just because 20k word count is not acceptable in one post hahaha. I'm sorry :( I will try to put warnings on every part of the story that has gory details. This will still focus on the love story but still I wanted to write again so this may be long. I hope everyone will enjoy every word of VOLUME I.
Too good to be true
When you singlehandedly ruined your life it’s a given fact that you became desperate to saving yourself especially when you know that no one else got your back. No family, no friends, it’s just you and your shadow. You’re an orphan who’s friendless, no one would take you and on top of that …. You’re fully capable of hurting people. That’s why everyone is scared of you.
“The orphanage… cannot handle you anymore. You’re a good person y/n, you cause trouble because bullies won’t leave you alone… but you’re becoming… too dangerous. I’m sorry- it’s the Jeongs or the slums.” The head of the orphanage explains to you with sorry eyes.
The Jeongs… Who are they? Am I finally getting adopted? You thought alone as you fix your things, preparing to leave first thing in the morning. Why does it have to be so rushed? Are they really excited to meet me?
The next day, you were picked up by a tall man. A big, buff and tall man named Chanyeol. He looked sharp in his suit, he immediately explained that he will drive you to the Jeong’s residence and also explained your purpose there from now on. And that’s where your fantasies about having a family disappears. “You are adopted by the Jeongs to be one of their assasins. To kill for them” The words from that guy Chanyeol’s mouth sounded unreal, you wanted to ask if he’s just scaring you and if he’s joking. Apparently not.
The Jeong’s residence was big. It’s like a paradise. It looks peaceful because it has a very green garden, big trees, flowers here and there, and nice staffs that wore black their entire life working for the Jeongs. There were three other guys arrived after you. They all look alone too and lost, and you figured they all came in different countries.
“Taeyong, Yuta and Mark. This is Y/n,” a woman in black introduced them to you, they all said hi but you can see right through them… they all have this wall around them as if any time the people here are going to kill them any second. “From now on the five of you will be a team and will work with the Jeongs” she added.
“Five? There’s only four of us here” Mark said, he’s the youngest.
“You will meet the fifth member tomorrow before you training starts…”
By the time she took you guys for a quick tour around the residence, your world became quiet as if you’re not interested anymore. You just want to rest and start what you need to do in this place.
It feels good huh? You said to yourself as you stare in the mirror of your own bathroom. It feels good to finally know your purpose in life. The Jeongs gave you shelter, comfortable clothes that are all black but all new and nice, your own room with all the things you need… they even gave you a makeup kit. And you wonder whats that for.
There were only 5 things they want you to remember. In exchange for the Jeong’s goodness, you need to:
Train to be an assassin everyday.
Only one Holiday outside.
Don’t make friends outside. We are your friends and family now.
Look out for each other.
Earn your freedom. That means after your years of service, you will of course have your freedom.
The terms were simple and you can only hope that killing someone is as simple as these rules too.
Everything is too good to be true.
Until now, you can’t believe that you’re lucky to have this kind of family now.
“So when are we going to meet the fifth member?” Taeyong asked, the oldest. He has a cold impression, scary but very handsome.
“I’m here. Sorry- my sister and mother is very dramatic. They were having a hard time letting me go. By the way, I’m Jaehyun!” he said with a big smile in his face. He is the first person in this place who actually lit up the entire room with just a smile.
He’s very handsome. Almost as if you were looking at a saint, you thought.
“You look lost,” Yuta said, the Japanese guy who looked tough. “The four of us looked so lost when we arrived, but we all felt that we belonged here… but you, I believe you’re out of place. You don’t belong here you’re too happy”
“I’m not happy. I’m just as miserable as you are, I just don’t show it” Jaehyun said with a cocky smile.
“Oh come on! It’s our first day together, what is up with this tension?” Mark tried to stop Jaehyun and Yuta from fighting, but Yuta knows the truth already.
“This guy right here is the only son of Mr. and Mrs. Jeong. The next in line to be the next great Jeong” Yuta said with a smirk, mocking Jaehyun’s last name. And this time, he is getting on Jaehyun’s nerves already… but Jaehyun knew better than cause trouble. He calmed himself down and did not let his anger get him.
Everyone in the room completely understood what’s happening here. He is the son or Mr. Jeong, Jeong Yoonoh, but they call him Jaehyun. He is next in line after Mr. Jeong, the one and only son and is expected to take the family business when the time comes.
A typical plot, everyone thought. But training your one and only son to be a monster is a different kind of brutality. You can only imagine what kind of struggles he’s carrying.
“On behalf of my parents, and family, I would like to apologies for them” he bowed in front of everyone sincerely, “I will start training with you guys but that doesn’t mean I am not grateful to sacrificing your lives for our clan. Thank you” after that, he walked towards Yuta whispered beside his shoulder,
“Don’t you think it’s fucked up? That my father sent me here- his only son. You don’t know me” Jaehyun said sternly that made Yuta shut up.
The room became quiet and as the first instructor enters, giving Jaehyun and Yuta a good punch before everything starts.
And that is the start of your life here as an assassin.
You’re adopted to be an assassin. You’re going to grow old here.
The past few weeks was easy. You had the opportunity to know your colleagues, all four of them. Finally, people you can call family you thought. It’s part of your training to treat each and everyone as family because by the time you guys are sent for a mission, no one can be left behind. In other words, each and everyone of you should be capable of saving each other.
Eventually, Jaehyun and Yuta became friends. Good friends.
Months have passed and this was the beginning of every struggle. It has been heavy and hard. The training was harder. Everyone is bleeding but everyone grew stronger without you guys noticing.
After a years of training, you became good with guns and became a good fighter as well. Theres nothing much of your story… yet. But you are loving this new life that the Jeongs have given to you.
Jaehyun is good at everything. He was expected to do so. If not, his father will give him a hard time. During the training everyone could see the pressure that he carries everyday. The constant reminder of “I have to be great at this part,” you can basically see it in his face.
Yuta became a swordsman, and is actually good with everything sharp. Eventually, you guys knew his story. That his family, The Nakamoto clan is in huge debt of the Jeongs, and he came in here voluntarily for the honor of his family. Obviously, besides Jaehyun, he’s the only person who has a family.
Taeyong became the leader and can turn everything into a weapon. Everyone was quite expecting this already, aside from weapons Taeyong is good at strategizing… planning and organizing everything for everyone not to get killed.
Mark, became really good at technology. He can hack every system. Unfortunately, because he’s the youngest, he’s not allowed to do the dirty job, only the techie stuff. Which he loves doing.
Everyone matured in their own way, Chanyeol even got married. But even though time flies so fast they haven’t sent anyone of you to kill somebody yet.
It was a scary thought. Everyday you wake up thinking, “Is this the day?”. Is this going to be the day that you will kill for the first time in your life? Its not that you kill innocent people, the people that you’re about to kill in the future probably deserves it. At least thats what you’re told.
You thought that accepting the reality of what you’re doing is the hardest thing but no. “Wait until your first kill. It’s like your first love, you will never forget it” Chanyeol said during one of his lectures.
But by the time everyone had their first kill already, everyone became unstoppable.
They started training you at the age of 19 and watched you grow to be a young assassin at the age of 24. You grew up ruthless, crazy, and merciless. You have your own way of killing the people you need to kill, you do it fast, but whenever you want to play, you watch their souls leave their eyes. You even became Jaehyun’s father his favorite assassin because you could be anything and you could kill anyone.
“You could be a perfect Jeong,” Jaehyun joked while you two are sharpening knives that you both used from training earlier. You watch him in front of you and you cant help but notice, he really is handsome but Jaehyun is not only handsome because of his look. Maybe… he’s handsome in you’re eyes because he’s actually nice, he’s nice at the staffs here, he’s nice to you, heck… he takes care of you. He grew up well despite the dangerous environment he’s already in.
“I don’t want to be a Jeong- I’m not perfect,” you said while you work with a knife.
“You’re perfect in my eyes and in my father’s eyes,” he replied.
By this time you just wanted to shut him up and make him stop. Quite annoying actually. “So what, you want to be siblings with me? You have sisters aren’t they enough? or you want someone who kills people for a living as your sister?”
“Nope. What I meant was marry me someday,” He bravely said.
There was silence between you two, awkwardness. Jaehyun really saw the ugly truth that it’s not yet time to confess his feeling to you. Not this way, but well, at least he tried.
“I’m just kidding” he added to take away the awkwardness, “Dinner is almost ready, don’t be late okay?”
There’s nothing in the world you hate the most than going on a mission alone. You’ve always done missions alone though, but whenever it gets too long to finish, you miss home a little too much as days go by.
New York is always busy. It never gave you the calm feeling that you’ve been yearning for.
Again, Its lonely when you do missions away from home. It’s the kind of mission where you have to be patient and plan your kill silently, and without trace. The one that you have to plan oh so carefully because you have to make it look like an accident. And because it’s frustrating you, you’re now looking at a beautiful sunset, breathing in and out, on this busy park. Feeling the cold breeze of today, feeling it kiss your face, it’s almost Christmas you tell yourself and shook your head immediately because you just missed home even more.
Another thing you hate about being lonely, is that you kept thinking about the blurry future. The one that was promised after years of service, your freedom. You can’t help but think about hows it like to have a normal life, quiet mornings, experiencing love, experiencing heartbreak, new beginnings and discover opportunities.
It was calm but at the same time, noisy for a moment, until you received a call from an unknown number. Little did you know, this phone call will change your life.
“Hello?” You wait for the person on the other line to talk.
“Well, you look lonely. What’s bothering you?”
Of course you knew that voice. The voice that gave you a smile tonight, and has been making you smile ever since you two met.
“You could ruin both of our missions-“ you giggle through the phone but Jaehyun was beside you already and pulled you in for a warm hug.
“Why are you dressed so thin?” He said, looking fine as ever while he talks to you. He was all red, his nose, his ears, he looked like he’s really freezing but he did not hesitate to give you his coat.
“I didn’t know that we were on the exact same location” you said as you swing your arms around his and stay close to him. Motioning him to walk with you.
“I didn’t know it either but, Mark told me that we were. He also said that you’ve been home sick lately”
“Yeah. I’ve been- it’s frustrating me Jae. I can’t shake him up and point him towards my trap”
“Patience. Just be patient,” he smiles.
The night went on beautifully. Jaehyun took you to dinner, had couple of drinks, walked around town, took pictures together like you’re on vacation, you two were playing around, making alibis, wondering if anyone from your missions pass by and recognize any of you. It will ruin both your covers, and what you two are doing right now is dangerous.
While you two are walking towards your apartment, you asked Jaehyun, “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”
“Nope. Nothing real. It’s all for the mission, I guess. Been with a couple of girls, all part of the mission” Jaehyun answers.
“Me too. Sometimes when I’m with someone, I can’t help but think what’s it like to have the real thing”
And that gave Jaehyun a stupid idea. A stupid idea to make use of your time together here in Nee York.
It’s a beautiful time.
A beautiful time to be together.
If he couldn’t admit his feelings to you, he will drive you towards love instead and make you love him.
“Thank you for tonight Jae, I really needed it” you reached out for his hand and gave it a good squeeze before pulling him in for a hug before you go inside.
“Hey can I visit you again tomorrow?” Jaehyun asks, with a smile.
“Of course. Good night Jae,” you said sweetly.
As promised, Jaehyun visited you the next day, and the day after that, and the following days.
Your friendship bloomed beautifully but it was pretty obvious that it wasn’t just friendship this time. You’re not stupid, you didn't miss how he puts his arm around your waist and keep you close whenever the place gets too crowded. Like that time while you two rode the subway together, he kept you close and made you feel safe.. as if you’re not capable of saving yourself.
He made you feel like you can depend on him. He made you feel like he’s your man.
But most importantly, you can see that Jaehyun has been putting the work for the both of you.
He has been doing the things he likes with you, while you do the things you like with him. It was beautiful you thought.
You’ve always wanted to hug someone in the morning and tell them good morning.
You’ve always wanted to make coffee for someone, not because you have to, but because you actually want to.
You’ve always wanted to have quiet moments while you read a book, and just enjoy a good day quietly… with your someone. With Jaehyun, it was always calm and warm.
Like this afternoon.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jaehyun asks while playing with your hair. You on the other hand is feeling very comfortable laying your head in his lap.
“I love the time we spent together… I can’t help but think of the day we finally get to go home… are we going to be close like this?”
“You’re thinking too much—“
“Yeah you’re right I’m thinking too much,” you got up quickly from your comfort because it pissed you off. How can he disregard what you just said to him… it was basically a confession.
But just before you walk away from him, he was quick to grab your hand, and made him face you.
The tension between you two was intensifying. He’s never touched you like this or be close like this.
Then he finally kissed you.
After years of yearning, patience and stopping himself from confessing. He finally did it.
It was a beautiful afternoon. A beautiful afternoon to kiss and confess each other’s feelings through the way you kiss each other, the way your hands roam around, and the way sweet words just comes out from your mouths naturally.
He motioned you towards your shared room, hands carefully undress each other in between giggling and whispering.
It all felt right at the moment.
His hands are warm when it roams around your skin, it feels like you’re burning in want when his fingers first glide on your wet slit while his mouth is busy kissing your neck and whispering the things you should do. Like, ‘open your legs more,— thats more I like it’, ‘do you want cum already or should I do more?’ ‘Calm down, you look like you’re about to cum’ ‘I want to hear my name’
And in between those lustful moment, he kisses you sweetly, as if he’s telling you ‘please’
When he saw that you’re already soaking, his kisses went down along your body, kissing and licking your boobs, taking his time to turn you on again and again, until he reaches your pussy and did not waited a second to kiss it and spread your pussy lips. Working with his fingers, up and down and taking turns with his mouth. Time seems to be slowing down at the moment while you arch your back and unintentionally grip Jaehyun’s hair while you enjoy every second of his what his mouth, lips, tongue and fingers could do to you.
Until you reach your first high and asked for more.
He reached for your hand and made you pump his cock, “ready?” He asks, you just nod sweetly and reached for his face to kiss him hungrily.
It didn’t hurt that much but there was a good stretch. He was big after all, and his rawness felt so good around your walls you can’t get enough of it.
He thrusted slowly, kissing you while he focuses on making you feel good, careful not to hurt you.
“Fuck- you fuck so good,” with heavy breaths that compliment came out of nowhere he just kissed your neck to respond to that. “Are you really this good at everything Jaehyun?” You added, swinging your arms around his body, touching every part of him which he loves. You touch his body while he looks at you eye to eye, you put one finger in his mouth and it was just another paradise.
When you feel him asking for more. You comply to what he wanted to do. He flipped you on your stomach and licked your entrance before you feel him kiss your back which made you weak and land face first on the mattress. Little did you know, it was just his way to get you on his favorite sex position.
Now your on all fours, face on the mattress while Jaehyun thrusts on your pussy slowly. You can feel his hands rest on your ass, giving a slight smack whenever you try to put it down, but he was also quick to replace it with a kiss before going back to business.
“You don’t know how many times I imagined doing this to you,” he whispers and planted kisses on your face.
When he felt you clenching around his cock, he fucked you faster making the bed rock and mattress creak. He came inside you of course, while kissing your back and soothing your right ass cheek. When he pulled out, he inserted one finger which felt nice and made you excited again.
“We’ll go another round,” he winked and watched his cum come out of your pussy.
That night, you two stayed in bed and fuck more than you could have imagine.
Of course there’s a time where you just talked about your feelings. How much you two don’t want to go back just yet and how much you wanted this relationship to work.
After that night, you don’t need to imagine what real love feels like.
Love and home suddenly became a person for you and that’s Jaehyun.
You can feel his presence already whenever you feel like he’ll arrive anytime soon at your doorstep and shower him with kisses. Love is knowing that someone will come home to you. Love is watching a movie together, and not noticing that one of you is sleeping already. Love is trying to impress Jaehyun with your cooking skills, and even though he’s a better cook he says you cook better.
Love is having someone to comfort you whenever you have nightmares and you see the faces of the people you kill in your dreams.
“Y/n, wake up, baby you’re having a nightmare”
Jaehyun open the lampshade and got you a glass of water after successfully waking you up. He’s been waking up for five minutes already. He was so worried.
When you’re all calm again, your now watching the rain outside and enjoying the quiet evening. Arms around each other, keeping each other warm.
“We’ve experienced tough shit — I really believe that we deserve each other’s love” he whispers so he wont ruin the quietness of a beautiful night.
Days continue to be beautiful with Jaehyun. It felt like a dream but he was a hundred percent real because he proves it every day. The moment you wake up, you get to see his handsome face. Arms around you, like he’s never planning to let you go.
You reached your vibrating phone and answer the call, Jeno. He was your mission. Your fake boyfriend. The one you need to kill.
“Hello?” You answered, trying to get out of Jaehyun’s embrace but too late, you woke him up and decided not let you go. As he’s reminding you who your real boyfriend is. He thought of teasing you while you’re on the call but he knew better. Work should be respected.
“Hey, I just miss you… where have you been?” Jeno says, giving you a hint that he knew you were cheating and seeing a man beside him. Of course, you knew that already, Jaehyun mentioned that Jeno sent a gut to tail on him. Your boyfriend just laughed it out, he sees Jeno as a joke.
“I was actually just gonna call you— sorry I’ve been busy with work, with the coming holidays”
But even though Jeno knew you’re cheating, he still wanted to make things work. So he tries. “Can we go on a vacation tomorrow? Please? Days have been stressful and I just miss you”
“Tomorrow? Uhh.. sure why not? Text me the details? Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” Words continue to come out of your mouth that hurt Jaehyun. But what can you do? You still have to play the part.
When the call ended Jaehyun was silent. His eyes were closed and hasn’t said a word the moment you ended the call.
But the man… truly and deeply loves you. So he stopped being childish and greet you good morning and showered you with kisses.
“So I guess we have morning until afternoon then,” he said and kissed your shoulders. You just smiled and kissed him good morning which turned you on, “Why do you have to be so damn irresistable?”
Jaehyun just chuckled and kissed your lips for the last time before he got up from bed, “I know we can’t get enough of each other but we have to get up now, it’s a busy day for the both of us but… can I just kill Jeno and have you for myself?” he joked.
Even though Jaehyun knew that this is all part of the job, he can’t help but think that … he can’t just let you allow them to touch you. He wanted you to at least… think of him…
The whole morning was unexpectedly quiet. You know the reason so you confronted him. “I wont let him lay a finger on me from now on, I promise” you said and hugged him behind while he’s cooking. “I know you’re worried. But please don’t forget that I am more than capable to protect myself”
“Thank you for promising,” he smiled and kissed you.
When Jeno kept you away from Jaehyun it was torture for you. You used to like it whenever you and Jeno have sex, hell- that’s the reason why you got him around your finger. But now that you’ve experienced love finally and you know how making love feels like… you just can’t let Jeno touch you ever again.
The whole trip was a mess. You stopped yourself from just slitting his throat while he’s sleeping. He didn’t like it when you stop him from having sex whenever he asks you to. He hated every reason you give him, but he never forced you. Of course Jeno knew this was because you’re cheating on him. He was planning to get you killed. Little did he know, you’re already ten steps ahead of him.
By the time you and Jeno got back from that wasted vacation, he kept you on his side most of the time. Making sure you don’t have time for Jaehyun. He visits your apartment every night, pick you up in the morning, and spend time with you whenever he can. He even admitted that he really loves you. You just faked it and told him, you love him too. It’s disgusting.
Jeno is a head of a drug cartel. He made a very famous drug that made a lot of people crazy about it. Too much of it can definitely kill you. That’s what happened to the daughter of Mr. Seo. Well she didn’t die, almost die. Mr. Seo is a powerful man that has great connections with great doctors whom took care of her daughter. Long story short, the daughter was Jeno’s ex-girlfriend, they made that drug together but Mr. Seo denied that his daughter had anything to do with it.
By the way, Mr. Seo is Mr. Jeong’s longtime business partner. And that’s why you’re here. To serve revenge to someone’s daughter.
Jaehyun on the other hand, is here to protect Mr. Seo’s daughter, just in case Jeno tries to send someone and kill her. But he just protects the girl from a far. Jaehyun is very careful with his job, he hates messy things. He’s the silent killer not you.
“Can we just switch missions? I’ll protect the girl and you kill Jeno?” you joke and booped his nose. You just finished having sex and it really felt good to be fucked by the man you love after for so long you thought. This has been the first night you’ve been together, ever since Jeno kept you away. This wouldn’t even happen if Jaehyun didn’t kill the man tailing him. Poor guy you thought.
“Don’t give me ideas,” he laughed and made you sit on top of him, creating a great view of your body, you then reached for his cock and surprised him. He didn’t expect that you’d put it in and grind on top of him.
“You were saying?” you wanted him to continue what he was saying while you fuck him. Yes, fuck him.
“I said…” he croaked, almost a moan. He couldn’t even finish a sentence, “don’t give me ideas that I could easily do” he pulled you down so you’re closer to him, kissing your neck while you continue what you do. In a matter of minutes, Jaehyun came and you stayed on to him, feeling him catch his breath.
“If Jeno dies, we both come home— but I’m not pressuring you,” he laughed and kissed you, “I’m just a little excited to what’s next for our life after this mission, you know?”
But you were already sleeping when he checked up on you. Of course he didn’t just let you sleep naked on top of him, gently he made lay you down beside him and looked for clean clothes to cover you up. He kissed you goodbye because he needed to work tonight.
The next day, there was something off with Jeno that he kept on getting mad and he’s getting into your nerves. That pushed you to go for the kill and just use a knife to kill him. To your surprise, he was specially skilled with sharp objects too. You didn’t back down of course, you gave his pretty face a nice scar, just incase he survives and you fail to kill him, at least he will remember you.
“Your boyfriend is an assassin too, I know that much. He’s dead now,”
And those words got the best of you. It caught you off guard making him had the chance to pierce the knife deep.
Now you’re on weak on the floor bleeding and trying to survive. But your mind is really not on what’s happening to you, you don’t care if you die. But you care if Jaehyun is really dead. It can’t be. He’s the greatest assassin you’ve ever seen.
You feel your body getting weaker and weaker as you crawl away from Jeno… then suddenly you hear a thud. And heard someone call your name…
“Y/n— fuck, stay with me baby,”
It was Jaehyun. You’re sure that he’s well and alive.
“It’s just a cut Jae, I’ll live for sure,”
Jaehyun on the other hand was quick to get materials he knew could save you. He also called for Mark’s to send help and clean up Jeno’s body. “Mark, Y/n needs help send a doctor to Jeno’s place now and clean up”
“Got it! Yuta is also on his way to fill in for you— we had a lead on,”
“Mark, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I don’t care if that girl dies. Y/n needs me, how long do we have to wait?”
“S-sorry, but help will be there 20 minutes tops”
Jaehyun didn’t even said thank you or good bye to Mark. He just ended the call and took care of you because you passed out already. Jaehyun was panicking already and more than furious that he shot Jeno’s dead body a few more times to release his anger towards him.
When you finally wake up, you see Jaehyun beside you sleeping. You figured maybe he didn’t even got the chance to rest from last night.
This mission was more than fucked up. You failed. Jaehyun failed. All because you finally have a weakness now, and it’s Jaehyun. This is bad you thought.
By the time you’re all well and ready to go home, you thought that Jaehyun will go home with you and tell every truth to Chanyeol together. But no. He needed to stay behind because he needed to fix his own mess for you and for him. You could have helped him but you’re too weak at the moment.
When you came back, Chanyeol was beyond furious, he told you ugly truths… that made you force yourself to the things you don’t like. Like, leaving Jaehyun.
“He didn’t tell you that the girl he was protecting secretly was his future fiance?” Chanyeol smirked, he didn’t want to hurt you either but he needed to tell you the truth for your own good. After all, you’re like a daughter to him.
“Are you really sure you love Jaehun?” you nod ‘yes’, of course. “What can you offer to him? Cant you see it? You two are not perfect for each other, he’s a son of a powerful man. Who are you y/n?”
And that hurt you.
“Have you ever imagined stepping into Jaehyun’s real world? You have to understand that you two are not meant for each other,”
He was right. “Good thing Jaehyun’s father never heard of your relationship. He wanted you to work directly with him. Take this as a chance to redeem your last mission. And try to forget about Jaehyun while you’re away”
And just after Chanyeol talked to you, Jaehyun just arrived in 127 house, wearing the biggest smile on his face. Hoping for a welcome back kiss perhaps. But you avoided his touch.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, you don’t know where to begin but he already knew that Chanyeol a;ready brainwashed you, “Chanyeol is good at brainwashing Y/n, you know that”
“But that doesn’t mean that the things he told me aren’t true. I’m sorry Jae— it was childish. What we did was childish,”
“I can’t believe I’m fucking hearing this. AFTER EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN NEW YORK Y/N?!” He shouted.
“I’m sorry,” is all you could say before turning your back on him.
Maybe life is punishing your for all the lives you’ve taken without mercy.
You’ve been far from home way too long now… you’re long forgiven for what happened to New York now.
At this point you don’t even know if what happened between you and Jaehyun was true or was it all just a dream or a fantasy made up. You don’t even have one single proof that you and Jaehyun shared something special there. You only have this heartbreak that you’ve been carrying for years, ever since you left.
Given that you’re Mr. Jeong’s favorite assassin, you work tirelessly whenever he puts you on schedule. You’ve been assigned to be close to him and became his personal bodyguard, and go whenever he goes, and kill whenever he says so. Mr. Jeong is very busy man, he flies in and out of different countries and you alone is responsible with his safety for the whole time… well, you and other unnamed bodyguards that are foreign. But most of your days are spent on the Jeong’s skyscraper building. You just stand all day, everyday outside Mr. Jeong’s office and guard it.
But by the time Chanyeol made you come back and put you on a field mission, you’ve never been so happy and excited to kill someone after so long.
“I love seeing your smile Y/n,” Jaehyun welcomes you back with a hug, together with the others, “But you wont like this mission,” Jaehyun warns you.
He talks to you like nothing happened. Like he wasn’t the reason why you were away from this home for far too long. You’re not mad at him. You’re just surprised on with how well he’s been and that’s the only thing you want him to be. Happy.
While Mark is explaining what is what and who is who, you can’t help but think that Jaehyun was right with his warning earlier.For years and years of killing, this has been the hardest mission for you. It was as if you are looking for a ghost who kills people and you’re almost hopeless with this mission.
Hendery.
There are six Phantoms, Yangyang, Winwin and Xiaojun are all dead. And Hendery was the one assigned to you, while Ten and Kun are both hard to find because no one knew their faces. No one knew what Hendery looks like either, but Mark just so happens to know that he will have business in Hongkong on new year’s eve. That’s all the information he could give to you, because that’s all the information he has about Hendery.
The Phantoms are very rich chinese men who has many successful business around asia. They’re powerful because they kill every competition they have, and they kill strictly for business and because of business. Business is everything with the Phantoms. And that’s the difference between the Jeongs and the Phantoms, the Jeongs kill for protection.
Rumor has it that the Phantoms wanted to buy every business that the Jeongs own. And that is where the war started between them.
“This time I really want you to be careful,” Jaehyun came out of nowhere while you were packing your things.
“Privacy Mr.,” you joked, “I know your family owns me, but you don’t own me, yet.” you teased him, you were talking about him being the big boss someday. He just laughed and crossed his arms. He always looks nice in black with his golden ring, the only token he had from his mom, its like an I.D for him… so that people around this house will not forget that he’s still a Jeong.
“When I killed Yangyang, the kid almost fooled me” he started and sat down your bed, “It was a loud kill, I almost fucked up”
“That sounds like a joke, you never do loud kills ” you stopped packing and sat down with him.
“He knew who I was… barely came out of his house alive” Suddenly the air in your room became cold… this has never happened to Jaehyun before. “They’re all jokers Y/n, they know us”
That night, Jaehyun didn’t want leave your bed. You couldn’t sleep either, you just miss how his warmth can calm you and make you feel safe. He didn’t want to bombard you with words like “I miss you so much…” and tell you the things he has been doing while you were away. You have so little time together, and all he can do it show you how much he still feels for you.
So he bravely kissed you.
And you kissed him back.
For a few minutes it felt right. Like you two were back in New York in that small little apartment. His kisses were sweet and inocent, his hands were all over you but on the right places, like while he intertwines his hands with yours and how he cups your face only to hold you closer. But when you two stopped and realized that this will get you two into trouble again. He let you turn your back against him.
And theres nothing he could do and did not protest.
He pulled your duvet and made sure youre warm tonight, kissed you one last time on your head and left your room.
He still loves you. And that fact alone made you cry to sleep, because you still love him too.
When you left for the mission, it was already loud and red all over Hongkong. Mark still has no further information about Hendery which makes you even more nervous. “Calm down, just read the room and trust your hunch” Mark said through your earpiece.
“What if I kill the wrong guy Mark? Are you going to take responsibility-” but Chanyeol had the line even before you could finish.
“Can you please calm down? Hendery is within the area already because his bodyguards are spotted… but still no visual on the target,” you sigh at what Chanyeol said, “Maybe Mark is right, read the room. It’s not hard to find someone who looks rich and has an army of bodyguards around”
“Okay. Fine. I’ll move on my own since you two are so useless”
You removed your earpiece and put it in your purse.
You were ordered to just watch him during the event and go for the kill when the clock strikes 12 and the whole country will be so loud. You were having a hard time looking for him at the moment, who would have thought that it would be this hard. You drank your frustrations away, shot by shot. Until you’re becoming light headed and a little tipsy already. You can’t go home with a failed mission. Agin.
During the celebration, you noticed someone who’s really handsome and really attractive… actually, his family is so loud, you figured he was celebrating with his beautiful sisters and their kids. The room was not hard to read, they are just a normal family that will be in shock by the chaos you’re about to do later. Poor kids you thought.
The kids were all cute, wearing colorful dresses, very energetic… it makes you dream about having your own someday. Will you have a daughter? A son? whatever it is, you will your kid with all your heart.
Then suddenly… One of the kids approached you with a glass of water.
What if… the water was poisoned. What if Hendery sent her?
What on earth are you thinking Y/n? She’s a sweet kid.
“My uncle thinks you need a glass of water,” she whispered and gave you the class… before the so called uncle finally approached you.
Of course he knew you already. He knew beforehand that someone will try to kill him tonight because he has been attending funerals of his friends lately. But he did expect you. And by the time you and Hendery finally faced each other during new year’s eve in Hongkong, he fell in love with you.
“It’s amazing how little human beings can have a power to us all” you smiled watching him.
“Well those human beings can be little monsters too and can really dry up my wallet fast” he joked and sat beside you.
One last look around to check if you still have any luck for Hendery… but looks like… today, is really not your day.
For the whole night, you and that stranger talked and talked. Luring you into saying what your heart truly desires. He became your first friend outside your job as a killer, which is basically a sin and you could be punished for this. He made you feel like a normal person.
At 12am, Hendery was still a no show. So instead, you enjoyed your time for yourself.
Hendery let you play with his nieces, you two danced and talked and drink until you’re drunk enough to even remember your purpose. And by the end of the night, he bought a suite so you two could talk somewhere quiet.
But it’s not what happened. It was intimacy in bed… that’s what happened. Good thing you weren’t actually clueless in this game so you get to satisfy him. But what really counted as a memory that night was the way he talked to you about freedom. Like he knows you already, like he’s trap somewhere too… like you.
“While I was looking at your nieces earlier, I can’t help but think about my own future. Someday I want someone to drain my energy with how they drained ours earlier,” Hendery laughed at that fact, her nieces are all full of energy and you were both really tired playing with them.
“I want to have a life,” you added.
“Me too,” he said.
“Hmm. What troubles you,” you asked while you play with his hair.
“I may look like a prince but I’m swimming in debt, I need to pay up. That’s how I could have a life,”
It was too much private information in one night, you thought so you stopped asking questions and just lured him to have more sex with you. By the time you pass out sleeping on his chest, he thought…
He could easily kill you with one swift move right now. But no.
The moment you wake up, he’s gone and left you a note.
You can kill me anytime. Come find me again. - Hendery.
And it was more than a frustration to you. You stare at the note that smelled like garden rose. You were more than angry and mad but you couldn’t let it out because your mind was busy searching for clues from last night… but then again, you remembered what Jaehyun said.
Yes, it was a failed mission. But theres a part of you that was actually happy that it failed. You can’t kill him in front of his family and his loving nieces. It will just plant trauma to them. And you can’t be the one who caused that.
You came home from a failed mission. Chanyeol was beyond disappointed to you. Again. Not only you failed the mission, but you broke one of the rules. “You befriended an enemy Y/n. How could you kill him in the future now? What will you feel if you heard the news that Taeyong successfully killed your friend? — you also had sex with him. I am out of words…”
"Well, at least it wasn't Jaehyun right?"
It was silent in his office for a slow minute. You knew everything you did was wrong and you have nothing to blame.
“You’re on schedule for three months, no rest days and no holidays,”
By the time you and Chanyeol are done talking, Jaehyun was waiting outside. You figured he heard everything.
“I think this Hendery guy fell in love with you. god y/n you’re so stupid when it comes to shit like this” Jaehyun said, he sounded jealous, of course he was. But even so, he brought you apples because you missed dinner.
“Like what?” you said as you munch the apples he gives you.
“Like when someone is showing you bold signs that they like you” Jaehyun continue to munch the apple. You were quiet because maybe he’s right.
“I like you. Cant you see it?”
I’m well aware Jae. But you didn’t say that. You didn’t want to talk about your relationship tonight. You can’t get Hendery out of your head. “Hendery is different-“ is all you said.
Jaehyun scoffed, “Of course you’d say that. What you like him too?” the change of his tone bothers you already.
“Hendery is different because he opened the Pandora’s box for me. He had nieces, cute nieces Jae. And I spent time with his family that is super sweet,” you tried to explain nicely, but he keeps on pushing you.
“So you do like him?” theres a part of him that is envy and jealous that Hendery was the one who got to opened that “pandora's box” for you.
“No Jae. I don’t like him. I only love the things he made me experience that night. To have family, to be able to play with kids, to dream for my own… to dream of my own freedom,”
And then there it is.
Jaehyun stopped himself from talking because he knew this conversation could turn into a fight. He also realized, that Hendery showed you different things, a different angle in life that he can’t give you. For now. His father adopted you to be an assassin, and caged you in the world of killings.
Jaehyun was quiet and all he could do was hug you and calm you down. But you pushed him. Hard. And made him leave.
Thank you so much for reading this work of mine!
If you love what you read, please leave something in my inbox and tell me how you feel!
CLICK THIS LINK.
I hope we can practice, give and take.
Stay tuned for the next part!
-B.
#nct smut#jaehyun smut#nct scenarios#nct imagines#jaehyun#nct#jaehyun angst#jaehyun nct#nct 127 smut#jeong jaehyun#fmk#jaehyun fluff#reader x jaehyun
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Some CoD Hybrid Reader Drabbles
Hybrid reader stuff, if it's not your taste I recommend clicking off and finding something better to read (*cough cough* Temporary Relocation *cough cough*)
TW: Descriptions of violence and gore
Other than that mostly just fluff
I've gone down a rabbit hole (two kinds) and I can't help but think about some concepts I want to see interacting with this trope like...
If reader was a bunny hybrid, separated from their fluffle so just aimlessly wandering around. Used to having other bunny hybrids around to help with grooming/cleaning so you don't entirely know how to do that, either, at least not effectively. I imagine you wouldn't be found by the 141 while they're on duty, but rather one of them (or their family members) would find you while on leave. They'd take you in and take care of you, and start noticing just how good of a fight or flight system you have. Maybe with some good training, you'd make a good soldier...
If reader was a dog/wolf hybrid, kidnapped owned by some of the not necessarily best people in the world since only being a pup. In fact, these people end up being wrapped up in activities that the 141 ends up sticking their noses- and barrels- into. As they're stalking around the building where you're kept, making sure all of the targets are taken care of, they train their guns on you for a moment. It's when you back up quietly, whimpering with a raw and dehydrated throat, that they realize you aren't a threat. They unlock your prison kennel and tell you to move it before you're definitely a liability (whoever dictates this choice gets mega whooping from their higher-ups later). When they run into you again on the way out, finishing ripping out the esophagus of another target who would've otherwise interfered with exfil, that you're offered a position as a soldier. And you accept.
If reader was a cat hybrid who spent their time wandering streets, taking bites of abandoned food and finishing drinks long forgotten in order to survive, only for that very town to be the one Ghost and Soap arrive in while fleeing from Graves. You're crouched behind a dumpster when Graves is rounding up the cops, and even though you're bringing claws to a gunfight you can't stand to see him acting as judge, jury, and executioner. You find a Shadow nearby, not expecting anyone in their previous path to still be alive, and silently get their weapons off of them. You wait for your moment, using your intricate knowledge of the alleyways and buildings and rooftops to stay undetected, taking out the Shadows around Graves. You take an angle at Graves himself, jumping from a rooftop and landing on his shoulders, pulling his hair until he's stumbling backwards and you both fall into the fountain. You grab a beer bottle off of it and bash it directly over his head, making sure it shatters and knocks him unconscious. You scurry off, disappearing into the night before Soap has a chance to get down and speak to you, or even process what he just watched.
#141#call of duty#cod#ghost#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod mwf2#cod mw ghost#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#mwii#call of duty modern warfare#task force 141#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#hybrid reader#bunny hybrid reader#dog hybrid reader#cat hybrid reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#price x reader#gaz x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#drabbles#fluff
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Hi! Could you do a headcanon or scenario of the effects Neteyam's na'vi mate has on him, like things she does or says that make him completely goofy in love, physical aspects of her he worships and appreciates, that would be so sweet please, if it's not bothersome ❤️❤️❤️
THE LITTLE THINGS THAT COUNT
Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya Reader
Word count: 3,5k
Warnings: kissing? Small make out?
Check out my Masterlist :)
Thank you so much for the request! The idea is so sweet and I really enjoyed writing this :) I hope you like it :)
Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3
Before you and Neteyam had your first encounter, you had little to no knowledge of each other.
Okay, that´s not fully the truth.
Stolen glances have been a part of your and Neteyam's daily lives
The first time he had noticed you, was at the tree of souls. He remembers your soft and delicate eyes moving over the beauty of Pandora, the way you reached for your queue, and connected it with the Tree of Souls, the way your eyes closed as your ears filled with the sound of your ancestors.
From then on somehow you were everywhere where his eyes landed.
Your figure always catches his attention, his eyes on you like glue sticks to paper.
It would be a lie to say the growing affection was unrequited. You yourself searched for the Na’vi boy in every crowd you found yourself in.
Once you and Neteyam made your relationship official to the clan, nothing but happy reactions were thrown your way.
The warmth, that spread through your chest from the affection and love his family offered you, a welcomed feeling you’d like to keep.
Neteyam always knew that the both of you would be together one day, the moment you caught his eyes, he had to make you his.
Throughout your relationship, your bond only grew stronger, the love he holds for you growing every day.
One of the aspects he loves about you is the way you treat his family, the way you don’t judge four-fingered family members like his father, brother and sister.
Neteyam's feet touch the soft and fluffy earth the moment he lowers himself from his Ikran. The day had been long for him, his list of tasks was finally completed and no cry for his help ran through the air.
A sign for him to call it a day.
A sigh leaves Neteyam's mouth, preparing to be the next Olo´eyktan is like a rock resting on his already tired shoulders, but that rock seems lighter the moment you step into his presence. He lets his hands run along the warm skin of his Ikran, and a sound of comfort leaves its mouth. He chuckles, removing the string that holds his bow from its side.
He sets the things aside, fixating the weapon on his back and both of his hands are now filled with multiple belongings of his. Now walking back to the village, his Ikran takes it as it is and starts to hoover over the ground and flies away into the slowly darkening sky.
Neteyam watches him disappear but seconds later you pop back into his mind. The highest priority now. His steps quicken as his feet carry him to your shared tent.
“Y/N? Tìyawn, I am back,” he says, the smile evident in his voice, teeth glowing in the darkness of his home.
“Tìyawn…?” he trails off, only now realizing that the tent is dark, your nonexistent presence taking the light from his home. Without you, it is not his home.
He swiftly grabs the bow from his back and strips it off, letting it hit the ground with no care, he quickly emerges through the entrance of your shared tent and steps outside.
Seconds later, he finds himself standing in front of his family´s tent. His chest heaving in worry for you,
What if you weren´t here? If you were hurt?
But the worry is washed away when your laughter fills his ears, your laugh always eases his tense shoulders and let´s frowns on his face disappear within seconds. He used to joke about the hold you have on him, but over the time he spent with you, he realized just how much he appreciated you.
"No, no wait. He did what?" you laugh out, your smile reaching your eyes as you hold your stomach with soft giggles. Lo’ak sits across from you, both of you with crossed legs on the ground and surrounded by the rest of the Sully family. Neteyam’s eyes move over to you, your hands now back to being occupied with Kiri's hair as you braid it softly.
“I know bro! He’s such a skxawng.” Lo’ak replies, They keep on talking about whatever topic they moved to, the conversation blurs out in Neteyam’s ears, his eyes still on your form. If it were physically possible, his eyes would be heart-shaped.
"Pinky-promise me you will tell me if he does something like that again." You laugh out, well aware of the fact that you don´t own the extra finger like he does.
"How do you know what a pinky is?" he laughs in return.
"I just do." You smile, and in return, he holds out his little finger and you wrap your entire smaller hand around it.
“Neteyam! You are back!” a shrieking voice cuts through the trail of his thoughts as Tuk suddenly yanks at his right arm, he is forced to avert his glance from you and huffs out a laugh at her happiness.
"Tuk, I-" he starts to say before the little Na´vi that just clung to his arm starts to speak up again, now pulling him in the direction of you.
"Look! Y/N did this for me!" she says with a sparkle evident in her big eyes, pure delight reflecting in them. She shakes her head a little from side to side to show him her short hair which is now newly braided and equipped with beautiful orbs in different colors. Her movement makes them swing in the moonlight, the sun no longer framing Pandora.
"She did? It is beautiful." Neteyam smiles, Together they enter the warm tent, and your eyes are now finally pulled to him due to the loud words that left Tuk´s mouth.
Them entering the tent caused multiple greetings to be thrown the young Na´vi´s way, his family happy to have him back. But no answer can leave his mouth, not before he felt your warmth. Neteyam walks over to where you sit, your hands still occupied with Kiri´s hair. He takes a seat next to you and engulfs you in a hug, your back now pressed to his muscular chest, You huff out a breath in surprise at his uncommon actions.
"Neteyam? What are you doing? Your family is less than two feet away…"
"I just missed you, yawntutsyìp," he whispers, his lips finding their place on your cheek to give it a soft peck, You can´t help but blush at his close proximity. No one really seems to notice the exchange though, his family not paying much attention to the both of you, already used to the lovestuck pair.
"So, you did Tuk´s hair?"
"Yup, and now Kiris," you stated, popping the p.
"That is nice of you. I think my family likes you more than me." he chuckles and buries his head in your warm neck.
All you can do is blush.
Something that Neteyam admires you for is the way you can easily read him
His body language or simply just the sound of his breaths can tell you what he feels and thinks
Like, when his father scolds him for something Lo’ak did and keeps saying that Neteyam should have taken responsibility
The way his ears lay flat against his head
Or when his shoulders tense up
No matter what, you are always by his side and know what to say and do to calm him
"You´re the big brother! It´s your responsibility to take care of your siblings!" Jake shouts angrily, his eyes reflecting the opposite of his harsh words. The fear and sadness are evident in his yellow orbs. He could have lost them.
"I´m sorry sir." Neteyam apologizes, his head hangs low and his eyes trail to the ground that he currently stands on.
"You should be," he says, his strong words causing his and Lo´ak´s ears to flatten against their heads. While Lo´ak keeps his eyes averted, Neteyam´s head raises slightly, his eyes now finding you who stands behind his father with a soft look on your face. He can tell that you can read him like an open book, and the moment he will be dismissed can´t happen sooner.
"You are dismissed." the older Na´vi huffs.
Neteyam lets a breath of relief leave his lungs, ears now back up to be able to catch all the sounds that are created by his surroundings.
He takes quick strides away from the scene, and the second he leaves his position he is by your side. His hand grabs onto yours and pulls you away in the direction of your shared tent.
"Hey, hey hey hey wait up tìyawn…" you whisper, just loud enough to reach his ears. He stops in his tracks and closes his eyes. When they reopen his orbs are glassy and a frown forms on his face.
"I´m okay. I just need a minute."
"You don´t need a minute, you need longer, and you are wounded and in pain so you´re not going anywhere. Let me treat you."
Neteyam can´t help but smile at your words, you´re the only one who can always see through his act.
It is you that can erupt this warmth that spreads in his chest
No matter what you do or what is happening around him, no one can break his focus off you
He´s not sure, maybe it´s the way your body always seems to move with such grace and softness
The way the vibrant colors of Pandora's plants reflect in your eyes.
Oh.
Don´t get him started about your eyes. He could always look at them, the entire day, and not get sick of them.
He would never admit it if someone asked, but the fact that he is taller and all in all just bigger than you might be one of his favorite things
One sunny day, as you wandered through the lush jungle hand in hand, You stumbled upon a vibrant flower. It was a rare blossom with petals that changed colors, mimicking your own moods.
Neteyam went to touch it but you quickly slapped his hand away.
"No! Don´t just touch it! You don´t know what it will do if you make contact with it." you laugh, your eyes sparkle in the time of eclipse.
Neteyam stops in his tracks, his hand being pulled back with his own will to his side again. He can´t help but take a minute to admire you. Every day he is thankful to have you by his side, that Eywa has chosen the both of you to bond.
Your blue skin reflects the warm sunlight, your eyes always show this special spark that appears when he is near you. Your braided hair that is decorated with little colorful orbs, but no vibrant plant or shiny orb could get close to the beauty of your eyes.
"What?" you ask shyly.
"Do I have something on my face?" you quickly look to the ground and your hands touch your face, in search of any unwanted guests.
"No. No, I just. I don´t know, I like looking at you." he quickly replies, his thee-fingered hand cups the left side of your face, angling it upwards so he can look at your eyes again. They are big and round and hold so much love for him.
His stare never seems to lessen, you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks coating your face and parts of your neck with a purple hue.
A mischievous smirk appears on his lips, your eyes widening, already aware of what your lover is about to do.
"No, wait, Nete-" you start but are cut off when Neteyam quickly dips down and throws you over his shoulder.
"What was that? I can´t hear you from up here," he says, an amused look on his face as you´re still thrown over his shoulder. You start to kick a little and hit his back -with no intention of hurting him- in return.
Situations like these always show that the size difference between the both of you is huge.
Like, when you simply talk or walk with him, he towers over you
He loves it when you compare hand sizes
Or just touching his hands, they might be a little rough from all the work he has done but you don´t care.
"How about we compare hand sizes?" Neteyam states, complete out of the blue. You and Neteyam are currently spending time in your shared tent, cuddled up together in your bed.
"Why?" you laugh out, your face that just rested against his chest facing his own, a confused but amused look on you.
"I dunno, just thought it would be fun." he shrugs, his hand now moving towards your own. And now that you think of it, his hand is huge. Like really really big compared to your own.
"Oh…" you laugh, a small purple hue now coating your skin as he pushes his flat hand against your outstretched one. His fingers reach multiple centimeters over yours, his hand is almost twice as big as yours.
"You´re so tiny," he says with a smile and laugh, purposely trying to rile you up and get on your nerves. Although he loves annoying you and seeing that nose crunch you do everytime something doesn´t sit right with you, you won´t let him win this time.
"Well, being smaller has its good sides, you know, hiding from animals and all that." You try to defend yourself, your weak argument only causing his smirk to widen in return.
"But being bigger is still better."
"No, you need much more place and all that so clearly I win." you proudly state and continue on rambling about the positive aspects.
Neteyam no longer listens to your words, he loves your voice when you get competitive when it comes to your opinion on something. You and him know that this is all just a small bickering and small joke.
Everything that leaves your mouth is like music to his ears, your soft voice is something he could listen to all day. You keep on talking and talking, now a little less passionate about it, but even then you always pull him to you like a magnet.
One of the reasons why he was so head over heels for you, is that you always seem to put everyone's needs before your own.
And it seems to be that your feelings are required.
Sure, you guys got closer to each other and actually became good friends, but no one really took the next step.
Before you and Neteyam made it official, everyone around you seemed to know just how fond he was of you and you of him, like his sister Kiri, aka your best friend.
She used to tease you about it all the time, just like Lo´ak made fun of Neteyam for not having confessing to you yet, whenever the both of you are together and you get all shy and embarrassed.
And that meant they had to take it into their own hands to make it happen.
That one day, many days ago, you and Kiri sat by the bonfire, spending quality time with friends and family. The clan shared a feast after a good hunt. You laugh and joke the entire time, unaware of two eyes that keep following you wherever you go.
"Bro! You gotta get it together and talk to her already!" Lo´ak laughs and pats his brother's back with a little force, his body getting pushed forward a little by the sudden movements of his brother.
"No, I can´t do that, Look at her, she has such a great time, I can´t just barge in and force her to talk to me…" he replies, his head hanging low, aware of his aching heart that is seeking your affection.
"You´re overthinking big bro, common, now just- go-" Lo´ak pressures his brother and pushes against his back to urge him on.
"I just don´t think that today is a good id-" It seems like Lo´ak isn´t even listening to him as he himself stands up too and starts to walk with Neteyam, your direction obviously his new destination.
"Lo´ak-" Neteyam is cut off again.
Meanwhile, you and Kiri keep exchanging your experiences and the prior day you had, your difficulties and priorities when it came to your Clan.
Unknown to you, Kiri noticed the two Na´vi boys walking in your direction, and neither did she miss the teasing look on Lo´ak´s face.
"Y/N? When exactly are you going to talk to Neteyam again?"
"And about what should I talk with him?" you fired back with squinted eyes.
"Oh common now Y/N, you´ve been in love with my brother for Eywa know´s how long and haven´t made a move yet!"
"I have no idea what you´re talking about…" You reply, the fruit you were about to eat now long forgotten, the sudden topic erasing your appetite.
"You and I both know that Neteyam feels the same, he looks at you the way Dad looks at Mom, so don´t deny it any longer," Kiri argues, a knowing smirk on her face.
"Even if he did, do you think he would want to talk to me?"
"Well, looks like you´re about to find out." Kiri giggles while she raises to her feet and mentions with her head behind you, As you turn your head the view in front of you makes you suddenly shy.
"Uhm, hi," Neteyam speaks up, his tail behind him showing just how nervous he is.
"Hi?" You reply a small blush forming on your cheeks. Kiri´s and Lo´ak´s laughter blurs behind you.
The rest is history.
Let´s just say shy conversations turned into long talks and feelings have been confessed, Lo´ak and Kiri could not be happier.
And during your still-fresh relationship, the shyness finally dissolved into thin air, as the both of you got more comfortable around each other.
Last but not least Neteyam is being teased by Lo´ak to this day because you can make his knees weak without words.
For example, just your hands touching or you kissing his cheek as a thankful gesture.
But something he always looks forward to is cuddling.
The way your arms wrap around his waist in a way to close the space between you got him all blushing and smiling thanking Eywa for gifting you to him.
But besides cuddling, he could make out with you forever.
The way your smaller hands grab the back of his neck to keep him close to you
The warmth of your mouth that starts to claim his the second your lips connect, if he could the rest of his time alive would always be spent against your lips.
The feather-soft touches comforting him in a way like no other could, got him melting into your embrace.
To prove the effect you have on him, let´s take the situation like the other day when Neteyam got into a fight with his brother for causing trouble yet again.
The two brothers had been yelling at each other non-stop and Neteyam's blood kept boiling with anger.
Kiri had searched for you after the argument took place, Neteyam pacing angrily in front of Lo´ak.
The moment Kiri had grabbed your arm in a hurry and pulled you to your feet from your crouched position, she mumbled the situation to you and that you had to calm Neteyam down.
It only stopped Neteyam from yelling at his brother after you took his hand in yours
Your both hands softly wrap around his wrist in hopes of calming him down.
His expression softens at that and he glares at Lo´ak a last time before you pull him away all the way back to your shared tent
After arriving you urged him to sit down and take a deep breath for a functional discussion with his younger brother
He only kept on talking angrily about the rules Lo´ak broke and how much trouble they were going to be in
Not even your soft words could stop the water-flowing words spilling from his mouth, and the only idea that came to your mind to shut him up was to grab his face and pull his lips against your own.
Neteyam held his breath and only hummed in return, his anger for Lo´ak long forgotten.
#avatar twow#jake sully#neteyam x reader#loak sully#neteyam#neytiri#avatar#jake sully x reader#cosmicsully#kiri sully
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