MariannaCrXss

Pearl, 18, bts & skz, my alt anime account is helplesslypurple77

[helplesslyblue77]

you can call me Pearl!

im bisexual, Felix and Han bias, Yoongi and Jimin bias

for now, i write for bts and skz, as well as some other animes, it just depends on what strikes my fancy

btw, im always happy to chat! im not doing requests but feel free to dm me with anything else!

check out my alt anime account, helplesslypurple77

Links

ao3 : masterlist : request :

Recent Works

Snow White Lily

© helplesslyblue77 — all rights reserved. modification of any kind is not tolerated

[helplesslyblue77]

hey so i skipped off tumblr for a minute and just came back to release a few of my fics are surpassing 400 kudos!!

i literally cant thank everyone enough, this is like a dream come true for me, im literally smiling so hard!

xx <3

[helplesslyblue77]

Hi pls continue your smile is the sunrise. 🩷

Hey so i dont know if ill end up continuing this one any time soon. its one of my favorites because its my first fic but i dont want to raise any false hope so...

but i have a couple more chapters on my ao3 is you wanna read that!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45418621/chapters/114273583

xx <3

[helplesslyblue77]

I love your work especially the Snow White Chan one🫶🫶 The plot was so well written and you did an amazing job.🤧 I was just wondering if you are going to release the others in the series, no rush tho I was just wondering🫶😭.

Thanks! I am planing on releasing at least some, although it’s taking longer than I would have hoped, currently going though some things…

I’m already started with some of them so hopefully it won’t take too long ☺️😊

[helplesslyblue77]

I am in love with you Chan fic! The indulgence I felt while reading it was unmeasurable, something about that unorthodox trope made is so interesting and thrilling to read. Not going to lie, I would like to read another story with a similar idea. Chan really fits that role, having both feelings of someone strict and parently while also being romantic and charming. Thanks a lot! 😀😊😊

Oh my god, ur so welcome! It was as fun to write as it was fun to read.

[helplesslyblue77]

Snow White Lily

first story in the ‘fairy tales with a twist’ series i’ve started(because i like creating more work for myself...) 

Pairing: Step Dad!Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 12.6k(it got out of hand...)

Warnings: Smut, like not in full but its still there. bad parental figures, slight mommy issues, reader has some self esteem issues, also...this story has so much crying, like seriosly. 

Summary: “Years ago, your father had died and your mother had remarried. You never liked your step father, simply because he was not your real father, and you made no secret of your dislike. Many years later, your mother died and your step father became the temporary reigning monarch. You vowed the feelings you were feeling were anger, but when you fall prey to a mysterious curse you realize maybe those feelings weren't hatred after all…”

Notes: soooooo...sorry this took so long. i was originally planing to post it on the 22nd but my computer died and like a fucking moron i forgot the charger...so yeah, so sorry about that. also Reader is more than legal. i ignored the traditional marriage laws of ‘yee olden days’ in favor of not being icky. her and Chan have a age gap of about seven or eight years or so.(side note but saw the barbie movie and fucking loved it, ‘im just ken’ has been stuck in my head for days now...)

♔♕♔

Let me tell you a story dear reader. A story of love, of loss, and all that is forbidden. Let me tell you of a beautiful princess who befell a dreadful curse. Let me tell you the story of Snow White. Now you may be thinking to yourself, dear reader, “But that is ever so common. How dreadfully boring.” I beg you not to jump to such conclusions, for everything you think you know about this lovely tale is, in fact false, and the real story will only be revealed today. So I urge you to sit back and listen to my voice as I weave you a fantastical story. 

Once upon a time in a kingdom far far away lived a young woman of only sixteen. She was as beautiful, as she was kind, a true princess in her own right. Her loving father, the benevolent king of the land, doted on her. Her mother, a woman of extraordinary beauty but unpleasant disposition, could not touch her as long as the king treasured her. And thus the princess was raised with love from her father and cold indifference from her mother. Each day she became more beautiful. 

Her hair grew long and luscious, her eyes bright with knowledge, and her body grew curves as she matured. As she grew, her thirst for knowledge also grew. Much to the queen's disapproval the king allowed her to take up such thoroughly un-princess-like activities as horseback riding. The queen disproved, but to her satisfaction, the princess also enjoyed activities like embroidery and fashion, so the queen let her wild activities continue. But alas, as our princess turned upon her seventeenth year, her father the king fell deathly ill. Our heroine could only stand by and weep as her beloved father took his last breaths, as the spirits accepted him gracefully into the world of the dead.

Ragged sobs tore through your throat. Your father's hand lay on your own, still warm even though life had drained from his body only moments before. The soft silk of the king's grand bed accepted your tears wholeheartedly, soothing your wet cheeks and stinging eyes. The bed held so many memories for you. Memories of you curled up against your father's warm body as he told you story after story, all in an effort to lure you into a deep and peaceful sleep. Memories of crying in his arms as he stroked your hair and comforted you with sweet reassurances. The realization sank in that he would never embrace or gaze upon you again. 

It took a long time for your tears to stop. The palace staff let you stay at the bed, even as your father's cold dead body was removed from the silken sheets, and life in the palace resumed. Only when the golden hour sunlight poured through the stained glass windows, painting the red silk sheets and the golden bed frame dazzling colors, did you lift your tearstained face from the bed and drag yourself to your feet. You stumbled out of the king's chambers, your bare feet making barely a sound as you walked listlessly down the large corridor with the heavy stares of your ancestors weighing on your back. Your hair hung unstyled around your shoulders, your cheeks were smeared with tears and your eyes red and puffy. You were clothed only in a thin nightgown and normally you would have been scandalized. It was highly improper for a princess to wander about in her underclothes, but you were so wrought with grief you could not even bring yourself to feel shame. 

Your maids were waiting for you as you dragged open the heavy doors to your chambers. You felt their pitying stares on you but for once they didn't say a word about your disheveled state, only drawing you a bath and slipping away as silent as ghosts.

With heavy hands, you rid yourself of your only garment and slipped into the water. The pink rose petals danced across the ripples your body made as you submerged yourself completely. You closed your eyes and felt the heavy hand of despair settle over you. Tear after silent tear slipped down your cheeks, dripping into the water below. Maybe, if you continued to cry like this the gods would take pity on your sorry state and let you simply slip away, let go of this painful life and join your father in the afterlife. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a princess, but you had never been a perfect princess anyway. Too unattractive, too outspoken, nothing like your composed mother, the epitome of a perfect queen. As beautiful as a statue carved in ice and as cold as one as well. 

You knew these thoughts, these ugly self-deprecating thoughts, were not true. But with your father's passing all your insecurities were rearing their ugly heads quite akin to a many-headed monster, dead set on devouring you and only you. You closed your eyes and ever so slowly let yourself sink down until your chin was barely brushing the water. You let the comfort of the water envelope you like the warmth your father had given you, the warmth your mother would never give you. And with one last tear, you rose from the bath, water cascading off your body, and came to a grim realization.

From this day on, you were on your own. And even as the room filled with people, your maids dressing you carefully, even as the mellow chatter filled the room, you had never felt quite so alone. 

The next day your maids prepared you for the funeral. As they slipped the black dress over your head, pulled your hair into a modest bun and painted your face just enough to be suitable for such an occasion you desperately held back your tears. It was no such time for your sadness, you are a princess and to reassure your people you must look only appropriately distraught. There would be no breakdowns, no hysterical crying and screaming, none of the sort. As the maids slipped your black veil over your head and handed you the black lace fan, you take a deep breath, and shove your feelings into a deep well, one covered in moss and ivy, simply for another day. 

A sea of black greets you as you exit the castle, the air filled with the cries of thousands. The day is gray as if even mother nature is distraught. Gaunt faces torn with sadness, the silent tears of men and women, the loud cries of children who are too young to understand but sense the forlorn atmosphere and respond. You take your place on the open carriage, your father's casket laying only a few feet away from you. The casket is grand, black with gold embellishments, but you can't bring yourself to look at it. It makes it all too real. Your mother steps into the carriage, her beautiful face pulled into its usual frozen expression. Her cold gaze drags over you, and you ignore her as she tuts disapprovingly but says no more. Even she can hold her tongue when she needs to. 

The carriage starts its long trek to the royal cemetery, and you feel every rock as it bumps slowly across the road. You watch faces flash by, each hollow with a sadness you feel in your core. The ride to the cemetery is excruciating, as the sky starts to rain, big droplets that splash against the casket, and down your face. You're thankful, as it masks your tears.

The ceremony is grim, and mostly a blur. You watch as a little girl comes forward, and with small hands gently places a single white lily on the casket. More children follow, and soon the dark top of the casket was blanketed in white. Your tears are falling more frequently now, your hat and veil long gone. But these tears, instead of being pure despair, are also interspersed with gratitude. Gratitude for your kind maids, who treated you with such gentle warmth, gratitude for the looks of kindness and understanding you received from your subjects. As you finally leave the cemetery you turn back, laying eyes one final time on the grim black coffin covered in pure white lilies. Your father's favorite flowers were lilies. 

The following weeks are a blur. The world seems to continue even as you morn, and you do your best to continue along with it. Your deep loneliness is pushed to the back of your mind and you soon begin to forget it. Months pass, and soon, your eighteenth birthday approaches. You find yourself engaged to a truly dreadful man, but per your mother's request, you are unable to do a thing about it. And then one day, your life changes forever. 

The royal dining room is large, with high arching ceilings letting a draft permeate through the space. A huge crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room, filling the large space with shadowy candlelight. Of all of the many rooms in the palace, this one has become one of your least favorites.

The large marble table is laden with food, untouched at the moment and the servants bustle around, serving wine and tidying various lighting fixtures around the room. Your mother, the star of the show, is late. You bristle, as she can't even show courtesy as the host of this sham of a party. Your mother has never been your favorite person, and as long as you have known her, those cold eyes, so dead of feeling, have always scared you.

The large doors slammed open and in waltzed your mother, her head held high. Your eyes narrow as you take in the full picture, the man escorting her to her place. He looks young, maybe eight or nine years your senior, and very handsome. With dark black hair and broad shoulders, he supported your mother as she walked across the room, pulling out the chair for her like a gentleman. Twinkling brown eyes and a sweet smile. Just your mother's type. Anger sang in your veins. How dare she bring in a cheap boy toy so soon after your father's passing. The man tried to send you a smile, but you turned, ignoring him. Your mother’s cold voice echoed in the grand hall.

“Darling, please welcome your new father.”

She didn't ask for your opinion, she simply barged ahead as she always did, as if you didn't matter. It angered you beyond belief, but it also made you feel so insignificant like you were nothing and if you simply went to sleep and never woke up, the world would continue around you, not even stopping to mourn. The room was dead silent as it awaited your response, eyes bearing down upon you. Your mother's cold expectant ones, the knowing eyes of the servants, the eyes of this new man. Emotions roiled in your gut and you stood suddenly, rattling the crockery on the table. You could tell your face was a mess, and you felt the tears start to slip down your cheeks as you ran from the room. 

You heard voices fade away as you slammed the door behind you. The worried voice of the young man and your mother's cold reply. 

“Is she feeling quite well? Was it something I did?”

“Don't mind her foolishness, she is simply a child.”

You fled down the hall, your skirts a whirl around your legs as you ran from the suffocating room. You were not a child, and most definitely not foolish, you seethed to yourself as you yanked open the doors to your chambers. 

But as you entered your room, all the explosive anger drained out of you, leaving only cold acceptance and resentment. It was childish, you mused as your stomach growled in hunger. You crashed face-first on your bed, your hair falling from its updo and pooling messily around your shoulders. 

Your mind was a mess, greatly resembling a dark and stormy ocean, a rocky shore tossed by tumultuous waves. Emotions raced through you, too fast to truly catalog. Angry thoughts of your mother's disrespect for your father's name. How could she bring this young handsome boy toy to the castle, so soon after your father's death? And to introduce him as your father? You vowed to never accept this man, to snub him at every turn and refuse to acknowledge him as your father.

(Somewhere, deep in your subconscious, you felt the vile monster of jealousy rear its head and stomp its many feet threateningly. You were jealous, jealous of your mother's goddess-like beauty, jealous of her power, and most of all, you wished the unnamed man could have been yours instead.)

♔♕♔

On that fateful day, the day your mother got remarried, you were notably absent. Your maids had searched and searched your usual hiding spots, but you were nowhere to be found. You were, in fact, in a very unprincesslike position, thrown over two bales of hay, your body bared to the heavy air of the stable. You lost your innocence to the handsome stable boy as wedding bells filled the air. And as you felt ecstasy, gripping the stable boy's broad shoulders, you couldn't really say you were sorry. At the moment at least. The lasting consequences were a bit of an inconvenience. The absence of such a notable figure, the daughter of the bride at that, sent scandalized whispers spreading around the castle. 

“The Princess did not show her face at her mother's wedding.”

“She must not accept this new man.”

The rumors didn't bother you but what did bother you was your mother's response or rather lack thereof. There was only a slight tick in her perfectly arched eyebrows as she looked down at you, picking at her long scarlet nails. You met her gaze head-on, never one to show fear to a predator. She looked over at you, taking note of your disheveled appearance, the bits of hay tangled in your long hair, the red marks scattered across your neck, and shook her head. 

She tutted disapprovingly. “Darling, if you must partake in those kinds of…” She paused, raising a perfect eyebrow delicately, “Activities…try to restrain yourself when you have official duties.”

You felt like stomping the ground, no matter how childish it was. Your mother always made you feel like this. Like a small, insignificant child, wandering about the world in dumb confusion, and not a fully grown adult woman. You opened your mouth to protest, but your mother waved a hand, dismissing you. You turned, your shoes pattering on the marble floor. You had just reached the door when she spoke last time. 

“And for god’s sake, clean yourself up.”

You slammed the door behind you and made the long trek back down the twisting halls and into your chambers.

All through the short and unpleasant meeting you had avoided meeting the eyes of your new ‘father’, but if you had dared to look, you would have noticed the pangs of hurt and disappointment flashing through his dark eyes. 

♔♕♔

Over the next few months, you did your best to avoid your new ‘father’. And soon, he gave up his little attempts to get to know you and treated you with the exhaustion of a man who accepted the fact that he was not wanted. Infuriatingly, he was never disrespectful of you, never treated you with contempt, and oh, how it angered you. It was hard to justify your hate when he was such a nice person. And so, a year passed, and then, only a few months before your nineteenth birthday, your mother died.

It was a carriage accident. She was on the way to a friend's house when the carriage was struck by lightning and thrown, burning, off the side of a cliff. It was a fitting end for your mother, fiery and dramatic.

 It was sudden, and in your opinion a much-needed breath of fresh air. Maybe you were a truly vile person for thinking this, but your mother had never truly loved you, and you most definitely had returned that hatred. But she was your mother, so even though you loathed it, you couldn't stop the few tears that fell at the funeral. 

Later that night, you go through your mother’s belongings and find a stack of leather journals, her personal diaries. Unsure of whether you want to know what these bound confessionals hold you let them sit untouched for a few hours. Finally, overcome with curiosity you open the volume marked with the earliest date and begin to read. As you read her diaries you let yourself cry in earnest. Your mother was a pitiful person, obsessed with beauty to a fault, and it in the end had doomed her, doomed her to a life of marriage to a man she didn't love, not allowed to love who she truly loved. Thinking back to the funeral you did notice the familiar and yet strange woman mourning your mother from the background. A friend your mother had called on at indecent times of the night. The pieces were beginning to fit together. You wanted to hate her, you really did, but as you read of her heartache, you felt yourself sympathizing with her. You hated that feeling, so you buried it deep in your heart, and burned the remainder of her diaries. As you watched the smoke billow into the air, you cried, your tears watering the vines choking your throat. 

 You watched in grim acceptance as Chan, your ‘father’, accepted the position of temporary monarch, at least until you got married. Truthfully, although you glared fiercely at him, you didn't mind. Being a monarch was a responsibility you were not willing and not ready to shoulder, and Chan was a fair, level-headed person. Those exact qualities were something you despised in him. It was hard to hate a man who was so easygoing and intelligent. But you hated him, you were certain of it. Every thought of him was accompanied by a pounding in your heart like the drumbeat of soldiers marching to war. When you laid eyes on him your body would flush with anger, your fists trembling and your breathing choking you with hatred. If this terrifying feeling was not hatred, you could not tell what it was. And you didn't know if you wanted to know.

♔♕♔

For the next several years, you settled into an uneasy peace, interspersed with dramatic fiery fights that left you running away from it all, on your favorite horse, and disappearing for hours on end. You would always ignore Chan’s worried face when you got back, intent on hating him.

You embroidered, chatted with your friends, rode your horse about the pastures, and begrudgingly met with your dreadful fiance. And just like that, four long years had passed and you were nearing your twenty-fourth birthday when Chan summoned you into his study.

You hated his study, hated how cozy he had made it with warm red curtains and dark cherry wood surfaces, hated the faint smell of woodfire, and Chan's deep musky scent that made you heat up with what you were sure was anger. You avoided this room of the castle at all costs, but even you could not ignore a direct summons, so you stood before him, avoiding his eyes. 

“Name, please sit.”

He waved his hand and you wanted to refuse, but you valued your comfort over your stubborn nature so you sat across from him on the red satin couch, munching away at a few biscuits and avoiding his eyes. You watch Chan’s hands as he places you a cup of tea in front of you, and pours his own. You take a deep breath, the sweet scent of jasmine, your favorite tea, filling your nostrils. Chan sighed, the breath gusting out from between his plump lips as he spoke. 

“I hear you did not attend your usual meeting with your fiance.” You do your best to portray your annoyance with your face as you speak, still not meeting his eyes. 

“Lord Brandish is dreadfully boring and dull, I just could not stand to speak with him again.”

Chan sighs a sigh of frustration, one that only you can manage to pull out of his mouth, and sets his teacup down on the wooden surface of the table. He looks at you and you hate the disappointment leaking from his eyes. 

“Name, you are nearing your twenty-fourth year already, soon it will be time for you to get married and take over rulership of this kingdom.” 

You hate how level-headed and smart he sounds, and how in comparison you sound like a dumb immature child. What makes it worse is the way he handles you, so patient even after you treated him with such disrespect. You slam your tea cup on the table, the hot tea sloshing over your fingers. You hiss at the burn and Chan rushes to your side, his strong hands grasping your own.

“Name are you alright? Does it hurt?”

His hands are big, much bigger than your own, and the comforting warmth envelopes you, spreading from your hands all throughout your body. The warmth scares you, but in a moment of weakness, you let him caress your hands gently, smoothing ointment onto the burns. It takes a moment, but Chan meets your eyes, perhaps wondering why you haven't yanked your hands away and stormed off. You find yourself wondering the same thing and hurriedly yank them away, settling as far away from him as you can. He seems to sink in on himself, returning to his seat and clearing his throat. 

“As I was saying, you cannot miss these appointments, they are vital to your future relationship with your fiance…”

He continues on, and you tune him out, your anger slowly building. How dare he, who is he to command you like this? As usual, anger is your first reaction, and you brandish it both as a shield and a sword.

“I refuse to go.”

Chan stops, his eyes meeting your own, and waves his hand around.

“Name, you're being childish. You must continue to go—”

You interrupt, your heart beating in your ears. 

“I refuse!” 

You hate your fiance, hate his crude remarks, his overall poor attitude, and the way his slimy hands feel up your thighs at every opportunity. Lord Brandish is a truly vile man, but of course, he puts on his mask, playing the part of the perfect gentleman in front of Chan and your servants. 

Lord Brandish appeared to them a perfect man, as handsome as he was kind, and they simply could not understand your animosity towards him. And to you, you would never tell. The mere thought made you feel pathetic, running to your ‘father’, admitting you could not solve all your problems on your own. It felt like weakness, and you hated weakness. So you bottled it up and did your best to treat him with absolute contempt, hoping maybe, he would just refuse to marry you. Sadly, that day had not come. 

Chan threw his hands up in exasperation, as you continued on. Your voice trembled embarrassingly as you jumped to your feet. 

“Who are you, how can you make me go?”

You could see he was finally losing his patience as he stood as well, his hands waving annoyed patterns in the air. 

“Name, I don't understand why you can't just listen to me for once!”

You are yelling by now, your usual defense mechanism, anger, spewing out of your painted lips like knives, flying at their target and embedding themselves deep in his chest. 

“I can't! I won't!”

Your words are basically nonsense, the emotions you had buried deep in your heart, all those tears you had refused to let fall, years and years of loneliness and resentment crawling their way out of your heart. Akin to ugly black vines, the leaves long withered, and dead, weaving their way up your body, tearing through your internal organs, and exploding out of your mouth in ugly sobs. You bite the sobs back, they were a weakness. 

Anger is burning in Chan's eyes. The two of you had indeed had fights before, but for some reason, this particular fight felt different. There was a quality in the air, floating around the two of you like a deadly wind, disturbing everything it touches. You were basically in hysterics by now, hands clutching and tearing at your necklace, and it was no longer about the conversation, no longer about Lord Brandish. This was about something much deeper, something darker, something you weren't ready to talk about yet. 

The vines were back, tearing at your throat and teeth, and in a moment of weakness, you let them out. All your resentment tearing out of your mouth in three final words.

“I hate you.”

They were words you had never dared to say, never quite believed, and the moment they left you, the moment you looked up and saw his face, the anger melted out of you and you burst into tears. It was all too much, the pain on his face, the way he stumbled back slightly, the way his hand trembled as he reached for you. The tears were still burning a hot path down your cheeks, staining the collar of your dress dark with water. You felt pathetic and small, and most of all, you knew at that moment that you didn't hate Chan. You thought it would feel good to finally say those words out loud, that it would feel like a relief. Instead, the feeling that ran through you was regret. The vines that had poured out of your mouth were suffocating you, and all you wanted to do was cry and cry until it all went away. 

You were still so young, so immature, and you felt so, so regretful. You were drowning in your tears, you were suffocating in your clothes and you just wished it would all go away.

Warm arms enveloped you, pulling you into a hard chest, caressing your hair roughly. You began to cry harder, the words coming out jumbled and croaky. 

“Chan, I apologize. I never meant it, I just—”

His deep voice interrupted your choked apologies, his hands rubbing soothing circles in your back. 

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

His kindness, his ever-present kindness, just made your tears fall faster, your hands knotting in the back of his shirt.

“You are just so kind, and I was so horrible to you and I apologize—”

He just stroked your back soothingly, murmured nothing into your hair, and let you cry, years' worth of emotions wetting the thin fabric of his undershirt. It felt good to cry, and those horrible dead vines wrapped around your throat slowly loosened, falling gently around your shoulders, and turning a brilliant vibrant green. Leaves sprouted and you cried and cried, until the sun sank below the distant hills, and you found yourself still laying in his arms, embraced on the floor. It had been so long since you had felt a touch of comfort, and you would have compared it to the times your father had held you like this, but for some strange reason, it didn't quite feel like that.

It felt comforting of course, but you also felt strange. Your cheeks flushed pink, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You had always assumed this strange feeling was rage, but maybe…

You hurriedly put a stop to that line of thought. For now, you should do your best to make it up to Chan and enjoy your time with your ‘father’.

♔♕♔

Over the next few weeks, you spent more and more time with Chan. The two of you would eat each meal together, and you found that he was actually very pleasant company. You found he shared your love of horse riding and promptly planned a picnic. The servants cooed over your relationship, most of them just grateful you were both happy, although you had heard strange whispers and giggles from the maids every time you interacted. You asked them, but they had just giggled and ran off. It was strange but you were too happy to dwell on it as you anticipated your picnic. 

It was a beautiful day for a picnic, the sun smiling down and the wind tossing your hair around your head gracefully. Your favorite horse, Pearlie whinnied and reared playfully into the air as you stroked her pure white coat. 

Pearlie was a beautiful white mare, gifted to you on your fifteenth birthday by your father. You took one look at her pure white coat and promptly named her Pearlie. Your father had dissolved in laughter and patted your head reassuringly. 

Pearlie was docile and playful, and you adored her with your entire being. Her long white main blew gently in the wind, the sun bouncing off her gold embroidered saddle and almost blinding you. You patted her reassuringly.

“Just wait a minute more Pearlie, it's almost time.”

A cough sounded behind you and you whip around, your eyes coming to rest on Chan. Your breath caught in your throat. He looks positively radiant, clothed in a thin white shirt and tight black pants, his hand grabbing the reins of a gorgeous black stallion. His brown curls blew gently in the breeze, he smiled at you, his dimples peeking out. You felt your heart heating up and again, your heart beating insistently in your chest, bumping against your ribcage and begging to be let out, if only to jump into his arms. Much like you wanted to do. A flash of gold caught your eyes and you looked down, blushing as naked flesh graced your eyes. The front of his shirt was undone, and a bit of fair peck peaked out at you. A golden pendant hung around his neck, swaying gently as he walked, drawing your eyes towards its golden glow and the swaths of skin available for your eyes to devour. You hurriedly yanked your eyes away and mounted your horse. Chan joined you, pulling his black stallion up next to yours. He smiled and your heart felt like it would simply rip from your chest and leave you cold and dead. 

“Ready to depart?”

You managed a nod and urged Pearlie into a trot. You let the wind cool your heated cheeks, let it caress your face and toss your hair, and all too soon, you had arrived at your destination.

The lake was special, a spot you had discovered one day, running from your mother's wrath. The sunlight bounced off the pure blue surface, and the trees around it were such vibrant greens, rivaled only by the bright wildflowers littering the ground. The air was warm, and butterflies scattered as you dropped to the ground, Chan following suit.

He let out a noise of amazement. “This place is extraordinary.”

You smiled, happy that he thought so too. “Isn't it? It's my special place.”

You were busy laying out the blanket and missed the look he sent you, so full of happiness tinged only with a slight flavor of longing. 

You plopped down on the blanket, and he joined you, laying out the spread of treats. Small bite-size sandwiches, little cakes and pies, and a large pitcher of iced jasmine tea. It made your mouth water and you delicately picked up a small raspberry pie, taking a bite. Your teeth sank into the flaky pie crust, the slightly tart filling making your taste buds sing in delight. You let out a moan of satisfaction as you finished the treat, reaching for another as Chan laughed. 

“You like raspberries?”

You nod, your mouth full, and swallow a delicious bite. “The kitchen really outdid itself.” It is a picturesque afternoon, and in no time at all the large spread of food is long gone and the both of you are laying back, letting the breeze play gently with your clothes and gazing into the pure blue sky. Birdsong fills the air, and you can see butterflies darting around from flower to flower, never stopping for too long. Faintly, you think you can hear bees buzzing in the distance, and sure enough, across the lake, you spot a bees nest, hundreds of bees buzzing around it, little soldiers devoted to their work. The smell of nature fills your nostrils, wispy clouds arching gracefully and the sun blazing a path across the blue, blue sky. 

Chan breaks the peaceful silence, clearing his throat before speaking. “I am really glad we could do this.”

You nod, turning your body to face him, your arm squishing uncomfortably below your side. He looks positively radiant beside you, beaming at you, his dimples doing horrible things to your heart. You cough and reply. “I'm sorry, I was stubborn.”

Chan sits up, waving his hand in protest. “No, Name I didn't mean—”

You sit up as well, your hair falling around your shoulders and tickling your bare skin. It all just feels so carefree, you feel a smile carving its way across your face. 

“I know, Chan. I know how kind and forgiving you are.” You take a deep breath, stealing yourself to let your emotions show. “I should have noticed earlier. I took my irrational anger out on you and I apologize.”

You're not used to apologizing, and you know your dialogue sounds stiff and formal, but you can't quite think of another way to get it out. 

Chan moves to protest, but in a moment of ill-advised boldness, you place a finger gently on his plump lips, bringing his words to a sharp halt. 

“Chan. Let me apologize for this at least.”

He nods, and your hand falls reluctantly from his lips, finger hot from the contact. You're left looking at him, your eyes staring deep into his own deep brown ones and falling down, down, down. The world around you disappears, the birdsong fading away to nothing until all you can see is his face, highlighted by the sinking sun, his tousled brown hair, and those disastrous dimples disappearing as his smile fades, his eyes dipping from your own to focus on your lips. You're frozen in time, filled with a longing you finally understand. Those symptoms you for so long assumed were hatred were in fact desire. You long for his touch, for his warmth, and shamefully, for his love. The metaphorical vines curled lovingly around your neck begin to bloom, white lilies falling from their stems and plopping into your lap. The sun suddenly seems to shine just a little brighter, the leaves seem a more vibrant green, and the birdsong returns, louder and more beautiful than ever. You are floating, dancing in your happiness, the relief of realization rendering your body light, and now you're soaring, dancing on the cloud tops, but then, you fall. The guilt pours in, guilt over your love, your love of your mother's husband, a man who probably still devoted himself to her, even in her passing. And you know you could never compare to your mother, her beautiful face still etched in your mind, her cold expression glaring at you from her perch on the wall, her face immortalized in a royal portrait, frame made of solid gold. And you know, that you can never have this man, the man you want and have wanted for longer than you were willing to admit to yourself. And with that, the sun sinks below the hills, and the vibrant colors leak out of your surroundings. You break eye contact, turning away and standing up. 

Chan jumps to his feet. “Time to go?”

You nod, forcing a smile, and grip Pearlies reins in your hand. You turn, away from Chan and gaze out over the lake. This spot will be forever intertwined with bittersweet memories, a place where you came to realize your unrequited, very forbidden love. A heavy warm hand lands on your shoulder and you turn, Chan's worried face greeting your own. You find yourself mesmerized by his lips as he speaks. 

“Name, are you alright?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically and adorably shy. You took a deep breath and put on a smile. “I'm fine Chan, just a little tired.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying your face, and you did your best not to feel a little self-conscious. But then, he was done and you turned away, mounting Pearlie as he jumped atop his black steed, and you set off back to the castle. 

The ride back was silent, the orange glow of the sunset bathing the hills in fire, and the fireflies had come out to play. It was a beautiful scene, but you couldn't bring yourself out of your somber mood and the two of you rode home in tense silence. 

♔♕♔

Later that night, as your maids bustled about, lighting the lanterns one by one until the room was bathed in candlelight, you noticed the strange new addition to the room. A large mirror. Your head maid noticed where your eyes were going and helpfully chimed in. 

“Was your mother”s, she left it to you.”

You frowned. It didn't look like anything your mother would own. It was old, the glass slightly foggy and no matter how you strained your eyes, you could not make out a reflection. The rim of the mirror was gaudy, gold with inlaid jewels, and for some reason, as you stared at it you got the unpleasant sensation of eyes on you, watching you as you crept closer. 

You stretched a shaking hand out, and just as your fingers brushed against the surface, the fog within the mirror began to swirl violently. You jumped, pulling the offending hand back and clutching it to your chest as the fog congealed, coming together until a face was visible. You looked away hurriedly. It wasn't as if the face was ugly, no, you would rather describe it as unnerving. It was a woman, her face what you could only call perfection, and it was a woman who you knew far too well. Your mother's perfect face stared back at you, immortalized inside this strange mirror even as her corpse rotted in the graveyard far from the castle. The maids were gone now, and as you stepped closer to the mirror a breeze came in through your open window, ruffling your silk nightgown and tossing your hair. The woman in the mirror spoke first, but the voice that exited its perfectly painted mouth was not your mother’s, no, it was a strange amalgamation of voices, male and female, blending together in a truly unpleasant way. 

“You must be my new master.”

The face in the mirror moved as it spoke, almost as if your mother was here in front of you again, and you hated it. You responded, trying to hastily tidy your unruly hair. You always felt so small next to your mother, so small and unattractive. 

“Your master?”

The face in the mirror never changed, no emotion ever crossed its stone-cold face and the longer you stared at it the more dazed you felt, as if a heavy fog was suddenly blanketing your mind. The world seemed to fade away and all you could see was the mirror. The mirror spoke again, its words cutting like ice, pulling your insecurities out of your mind and weaponizing them against you. 

“You can be the object of his affection.”

Every emotion was heightened, and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as a sudden and intense desperation enveloped you and you rushed forward, gripping the sides of the mirror.

“Tell me! Tell me this instant!”

Your voice sounded desperate even to your ears but for some reason you didn't care. The mirror’s perfect face curved into a stunning smile, as its ruby lips parted one final time, and a poem fell from them. 

You repeat the first line of the poem as you exit the castle, your heels clicking much too loudly on the cobblestone path. 

“Enter the woods, under moonlight so bright…” You lift your eyes to the sky and breathe in relief as the moon decides to peek out from behind the clouds, lighting the path in front of you. 

You were always told never to enter the woods, and you hear the words echoing in the back of your mind, but the strange fog in your brain quickly blankets it, and you step off the cobblestones and onto the well-worn path into the woods. You reach into your pocket, pulling out a compass as you recite the next few lines in the poem. 

“A choice will be yours, surrender tonight, Walk to the north, not south or not west.” The woods are dark, the trees foreboding, their branches reaching desperately toward the moonlight. It's silent, unnervingly silent as you walk off the beaten path, your shoes touching damp grass, padding softly across its surface, and leaving crushed beaten grass in your wake. Not a sound crosses your lips, as you walk on, through the large trunks of huge black trees. You look at the little paper where you hastily scrawled the mirror's words, and read the next line.

“Until in a grove, she grants your request…”

Sure enough, ahead of you, your eyes catch on a break in the trees. The dark trees gave way to green moss and stones, and the moonlight poured into the clearing, illuminating the strange statue in the center. It's made of a peculiar black stone and almost shines by itself. It's big, much taller than you and the edges are rough, like it was hastily carved. It mesmerizes you, as you stare deep into the black interior you suddenly feel the urge to touch it. You move your hand, almost in a trance, and brush the rough surface. The surface is smooth, and ice cold, and as your fingers leave its surface it begins to melt away slowly, black goo melting off its surface and sizzling into the ground. The goo swirls, and the ground below it seems to melt away until a shining glass statue is revealed. The statue is large, almost your height, and of a woman. Her face is covered with a strange mask, round and smooth and without any features at all, her hair cascades down her shoulders, reaching all the way to the ground. She is clothed in a skin-tight gown, with a revealing slit up the side. Her feet are bare upon the grass. In her hand, she holds a single object, a shining golden apple. The paper in your hand flutters to the ground, long forgotten as you stare wide-eyed at the apple. Its shimmering surface mesmerizes you and you find yourself reaching out, and gripping its smooth surface in your hand. 

It's cold, and as you bring it to your lips, you have the vaguest feeling of foreboding. In the back of your disordered mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Chan, screaming at you to stop, to put the apple back and turn, leaving the woods for good. But the mirror's promise echoes in your mind and you open your mouth, taking a single bite of the apple. The skin is thin, the flesh just the right amount of sweet and tart. The apple is delicious, and as you chew it, you suddenly hunger desperately for more. Your gaze zeros in on the apple and you bring it to your lips again, but just like that, it slips from your hand. You look around in confusion, only for your vision to start to fade around the edges, your hands are suddenly limp and as your consciousness fades, you have one clear realization. 

“I should have never listened to that mirror.”

The last sensation you feel is the soft grass beneath your legs, as you fall gently to the ground, and slip into a dark, dreamless sleep.

♔♕♔

Something was wrong. Chan could feel it, even as the clock ticked on endlessly, as the words scrawled on documents began to blur over, as you waltzed through his mind, your smile consuming his every thought. It was unhealthy, and so, so wrong. This woman, this young, beautiful, and when he had enjoyed the chance to know you, kind woman was someone he could never even touch. This woman who he lived too close to, was a woman forever out of his desperate hands, a woman he could never have, never kiss. The thought killed him. And that was why Chan took the long journey to your room, down the dark empty halls, past the portraits that judged his every move, and knocked quietly on your door. It was late, he knew that. Much too late for him to be visiting you, and Chan felt his face heating up as he realized how improper it looked. Him, a young man, visiting a young woman in the dead of night. But, he reassured himself as he stood in front of your door, his first thoughts had been innocent, a desire to talk to you, to laugh with you, even if his later thoughts had turned less proper. 

The silence worried him, and he knocked again, harder. The door cracked open, light pouring into the dark hallway and Chan frowned. You were up? At this hour? He realized how hypocritical that sounded, here he was, awake and trying to visit you, but in his defense, he hadn't been thinking of anything besides your smile. The smile he had glimpsed this afternoon, shining like the sun after rainfall. Chan had thought he might die. You looked radiant among the flowers, a forest fairy masquerading as a human, a being so perfect and radiant he might die if he dared to lay a hand on her skin. He truly wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Your smile was like the sun peeking its way from behind the clouds after a storm, the storm of your hatred. Chan never wanted to be on the receiving end of your hatred ever again. 

He pushed the door cautiously, and peaked around it, taking in the fully lit candles and the strange mirror standing in the corner of the room. He stepped inside, taking the opportunity to look around your room, usually a forbidden place for him. Your room was large, with high sloping ceilings giving it a breezy feel. Your window was open, curtains flapping in the wind, and the moonlight poured into the room, illuminating the white sheets on your bed. 

Your perfectly made bed. Your dreadfully empty bed. 

Chan ran to the window, his heart pounding in his chest. What was going on, where had you gone at this late hour? He feared the worst, even as he leaned out the window, and spotted the imprints in the grass. Footsteps. His body froze, ice water coating his insides and dread in his thoughts. Where could you be going at such a late hour. He prayed you had not headed into the woods. The woods were home to many things, some good, some terrifying, and the thoughts of what could happen to you turned his mind to stone. You were the  woman he loved above all else, he could not let you die. Chan knew it was illogical. He should have waited until morning, gathered an armed search team, and departed into the woods, but he could not help the way he ran down the stairs, and flung open the castle doors, running barefoot into the woods. 

Alas, his searching was for nothing, because as he stumbled back in the morning, sleep deprived and emotional, he still had not found you.

♔♕♔

And thus, six uneasy days passed. Chan pulled together a search team. He insisted on coming along, even if the head butler protested, and the team of strong volunteers turned the woods upside down in search of you. Night after sleepless night passed, and the dark circles under Chan’s eyes grew and grew. The servants whispered, their concern for their employers spread to the townsfolk and finally on the morning of the seventh day, they received a tip from a huntsman. A tip that told of a woman, asleep in a glass coffin, deep in the woods.

Armed with this information, they stumbled through the woods, exhausted men led by their relentless king, a man driven by a love he didn't even realize. And as the sun set on the seventh day, Chan found you.

The clearing was bathed in the rays of the dying sun, the light illuminating the intricate glass coffin taking up the center of the clearing. And laid in that coffin, still as death was you, still clothed in your white nightgown, hands crossed gently over your chest, holding a perfectly preserved golden apple. Chan feared the worst, stumbling to the coffin with a cry and throwing it open. His hands desperately felt for a pulse. Fear poured over his heart, as he felt nothing…

…a pulse, faint but definitely there. Chan collapsed to his knees, his head falling against the edge of the coffin, his hands desperately clutching the glass sides, and cried.

And that's how the rest of the search team found him, crouched against the glass coffin, tears streaming down his cheeks, knees grass-stained and dirty, looking nothing like the king he was, only a man brought to the ground with relief. 

They moved you to the castle, careful not to disturb you, and laid you to rest in your bed. Only then did Chan allow himself to sleep, although his dreams were nightmares, plagued with you, encased in glass, dead to this world. He awoke the next morning and rushed to you, certain you were awake but when he arrived in your room, took in your form, now changed into a white silk nightgown, still fast asleep. The maids shook their heads, and he rushed to your side, desperately calling your name. He tried and tried, but you remained as silent as death, faint pulse the only evidence that you were even alive, and he finally collapsed, sinking into a chair the maids had provided and taking your cold hand in his own. He took you in, your hair, now washed courtesy of the maids, fanning around your head, your eyes closed, lashes kissing your cheeks, your pretty mouth, open slightly as you breathe. Your skin was cold to the touch, and you made barely a sound in the room, cold and silent as death.

Cold and silent as your mother had been. 

Chan was never in love with your mother, and in turn, she had never loved him. It had been like a contract for her, to hide her secret lover from the public. She said lover, but Chan was not sure your mother could truly love anymore if the way she treated you was any indication. 

Chan still remembered the day the queen had shown up to his small house, in all her royal glory, and asked him to marry her. He had agreed, if only to support his siblings, and moved into the castle. He remembered the day he had met you, a woman so beautiful and full of life, so bright as she glared at him, so angry as she ignored him, such an opposite of the woman he married. He had admired you since the day he met you, your glowing beauty seemed to light up the room, your smile like the sun after a rainy day. Even your anger was vibrant, so much better than your mother's cold treatment of all living things. But soon he hungered for more. He longed to be on the receiving end of your smiles, to no longer be subject to your hatred. And then, one day, his wish had come true. After years and years of receiving your glares, one of your brilliant smiles had been reserved specifically for him. Not for the stable boy you favored, not for the new butler who the maids gossiped about, not even for your gossipy friends who smirked in his direction, no, this smile was reserved simply for him. It was karma, he decided, that the night after he received such a privilege, you disappeared for seven days, and then refused to wake up. 

Chan brought your ice-cold hand to his lips and pressed one gentle kiss upon your soft skin. Tears fell silently down his cheeks and dropped onto your hand. Chan prayed your fingers would twitch, that your eyes would flutter, and then open slowly, that your skin would warm and the color would return to your cheeks, but alas, no such thing happened. Your eyes remained closed, your skin remained cold, and the only thing he felt was a tap on his shoulder. The doctor had arrived. 

♔♕♔

The only sound in the room was the flip of paper, the rustling of pages turning. Chan glanced up from his book, hoping that your eyes would open, but alas you remained as still as ever. The doctor had come and gone, unable to do a thing, and the maids, having grown tired of his constant staring, had provided him with some books to occupy his mind, at least until the next doctor came to visit. Much to his chagrin, he had found himself being sucked into the world of the characters. He found himself sympathizing more and more with the main character, a man who was in love with a woman he could not have. He turned the pages eagerly, absorbed every word, and found the world melting away. He understood John, the main character in the novel, as he pinned over Elain, the young woman he loved and soon the characters were no longer John and Elaine, but they became Chan and you, and he imagined every interaction as you and him. It helped him escape, helped him hold hope that one day you would wake up and interact with him again. 

The book had a happy ending. John and Elaine got married and moved into John's large house together. Chan felt satisfied as he put down the book, leaning back in his chair. He could picture your wedding. You would look stunning in white, just as you looked now. And he would watch you walk down the aisle, smiling from ear to ear. Your vows would be exchanged, and you would retreat to the wedding bedroom. Chan felt his cheeks heat up, but he continued with his fantasy even as he glanced around nervously. There you lay, asleep and peaceful on the bed. He could not dare to do such a thing in front of your sleeping form, so he stood up and turned the chair around. It was much better to face a wall and do such a thing as touch himself thinking of you, right in front of your sleeping face. He still felt like a degenerate as he imagined the scene. 

You would tease him, you liked to tease. He could imagine it now, your first layer of skirts falling gently to the floor, leaving you only in your thin underlayer. He could see your nipples, perky and rubbing against the fabric. 

Chan gulped, palming himself slightly over his pants. It was embarrassing how quickly he rose to hardness, over a simple fantasy. 

You would let the last layer fall, and sit on the bed, your perfect body on display for his greedy eyes. He watched as you smirked, spreading your legs and bearing your core for his eyes. Chan gulps as you beckon him forward, falling to his knees before your core. 

The Chan in reality refuses to actually pull himself out of his pants, electing instead to press harder, his palm doing its best in the circumstances as he falls back into his fantasy. 

You grip his hair, smirking down at him, and with enough force to startle, shove his face into your—

A knock sounds on the door, interrupting his dirty fantasies and Chan hurriedly does his best to hide his hardness, pulling himself as the maids lead the next doctor in. If they notice his disheveled appearance and how the chair is now facing the wall, they don't say a thing. 

♔♕♔

For the next few days, the castle was abuzz with worry. The news spread fast, and soon villagers were lining up with gifts. Everything from jewelry to a bouquet of wildflowers given to him by a small girl, who sobbed and asked if the princess would wake up. Chan did his best to reassure her, even if on the inside he felt like crying. 

He summoned every doctor he could, but none of them seemed to have an answer. You seemed to be stuck in time. You didn't need to eat, or drink, and you didn't change one bit, from the moment they found you laying inside that glass coffin, deep in the woods. Hours turned to days and you didn't wake up. Chan despaired. He posted desperate notices around the kingdom, begging for any information regarding endless sleep. He tried any and every doctor he could, he prayed to any god available, but alas, nothing. 

Days turned to weeks, and the word seemed to move on around him, even as you slept, so beautiful but so lifeless, and even as Chan despaired. He did his best and ran the kingdom like he was supposed to, but everyone could tell his heart wasn't in it. His eyes looked glazed and distant, and he spent all his free time sitting by your bed, holding your hand. The villagers and nobles cooed at his dedication, calling it the love story of the century, but the servants did their best to keep the rumors from him. A month passed, and Chan feared you would never wake again. He was so close to giving up, when one day, a strange woman entered the palace, and with her dirty robes, she brought his hope. 

The woman appeared old, but with witches, you could never be so sure. She smiled at Chan, looking calm and complacent, a sharp difference from Chan’s harried look. She was wearing a long red dress, a woolen cloak covering most of her body. When she first appeared, it had been covered in mud, but between the time she had entered the door and Chan had brought her to your room, the cloak looked brand new. 

Chan spoke first. “Do you think you can help her? She won't wake up and I don't know what to do anymore—”

The witch raised a manicured finger, and Chan stopped talking, effectively shushed. The witch spoke, and her voice echoed in your large chambers, years younger than her appearance. 

“I'll see what I can do.”

Chan blinked, and when he looked back at her, she had de-aged, looking closer to thirty than ninety. Her blond hair, cut in a sharp bob at her chin, peaked out from her hood as she smiled at him. Witches and their disguises. Her blue eyes lined heavily with black, took in the situation and Chan watched nervously as she walked to the bed where you lay, still as cold and silent as ever before. She looked at you for a second, her eyes scanning your features, frozen in time before her eyes moved to the golden apple, sitting inconspicuously on your small bedside table. Chan frowned as she picked it up, turning it around in her hands, her nails filed to lethal sharp points, and painted a dangerous red. He had never given the apple much thought, too concerned with your state, but as she turned it around he noticed the one, small bite, perfectly preserved, on one side. 

Chan can't help himself, he rushes forward. 

“Is that what it is? Is she poisoned? Is she never going to…”

He can't bear to say it and lets the sentence trail off. The witch stares at him for a moment, chewing something in her mouth, before she takes pity on his sorry state and sets the apple down, turning to him. 

“Yes, cursed apple. But…”

She turns and walks to the strange mirror that had been sitting in the corner of your room. Chan watches in horror as she lifts a pointy heeled shoe, and gracefully kicks the mirror. The surface shatters, the pieces clattering to the ground like rainfall, and Chan opens his mouth to protest but shuts it as he watches. 

The pieces have risen in the air, distorting and twisting until they crash to the earth, and with a strange howl, one that sounds a lot like despair and fills his soul with sadness, they vanish. The room seems automatically lighter, like a disturbing presence has been removed from the room, and Chan suddenly felt a bit more optimistic. The witch turned to him with a sigh, tossing the apple in the air. Chan watched it spin, slightly mesmerized. 

“Alright, it seems like that vile mirror convinced your lover to depart into the woods and eat this apple.”

Chan frowned, questions spilling from his mouth. 

“How did the mirror do that? What kind of mirror was it and why would it do that? Also—”

The witch held up a hand, silencing him as the apple spins in the air again, coming to rest in her manicured hand. 

“It's a cursed mirror. A vile human soul, doomed to trick unsuspecting people into death.”

How did such a thing end up in your possession? He can only imagine the horrible thoughts it must have put into your head. Chan’s horror must show on his face because she chuckles a little as she continues. 

“It must have played on her insecurities, impersonated a person she feared or respected, and convinced her to go into the woods.”

The witch moved over to the window as she spoke, and drew her arm back, and with all her might, threw the golden apple into the sunlight. It spuns in the air for a moment, before it exploded with a bang, disappearing into thin air. Chan staired. The witch laughed.

“That apple,” She said, dusting her hands of imaginary dirt. “Is a cursed item. It's the usual thing,”

The witch held up two fingers, and pitched her voice, mimicking someone. “Cursed to sleep until she receives true loves kiss,’ it's so cliche but some witches still rely on the old stuff—”

“True love’s kiss?”

The witch looked at him like he was stupid. “Yes, true love's kiss. Should be easy for you.”

She pulled the hood of her cloak up, and Chan watched as wrinkles grew on her fair skin, her hair turned a dark gray, and she aged about fifty years. Her voice was still clear and young when she spoke. “Unfortunately, I have to go.” she waved an old wrinkled hand and smirked at him. “Good luck.”

And with that, she was gone, like she was never even there, leaving Chan to deal with the bombshell of a declaration she dropped on his head. 

Chan deliberated long and hard about this dilemma, his brain in conflict with his heart, worry constantly etched across his handsome face. He knew his kiss would work, he loved you more than he thought he had loved anything before. But as much as he longed to press his lips to yours, he was too afraid of the consequences, afraid of what would happen when his kiss worked and you opened your eyes. Afraid of the disdain that would cross your face once you realize your stepfather had inappropriate feelings for you. The thought of your face carved into a mask of disgust made his heart ache desperately in his chest, but he would rather live a life with your hatred than live a life without you entirely. 

He sank into the chair beside your bed and turned his eyes on your still form. You were so beautiful, but silent and cold as a statue and Chan longed for anything, your laughter, your screams, even your sobs, anything but this cold shell of a woman laying deathly still on the bed. Your lips, slightly parted in sleep, taunted him. Blushed a pretty pink, curved and sultry and teasing him even now. You were a temptress incarnate, and Chan would do his best to resist your charms until the very end. You were carefree, wild and the exact opposite of your mother, and as a result you had no shortage of admirers. Your fiance, who in Chan's opinion was a jerk, the stable boy, a handsome new butler, a young lord at a ball. And some of them, you favored them back, disappearing off for secret trists that your mother had scoffed at and Chan wished desperately that he was one of those men you snuck off with. He still remembered the fateful time he had accidentally heard you, panted moans and pretty cries painting a forbidden picture. You sounded so beautiful, and Chan had longed desperately that he was the one teasing those sounds out of you, not some upstart young lord. He was ashamed at the way he leaned against the wall, guiltily listening to your symphony of sounds, unable to bring himself to leave until you reached your high, sneaking off to take care of himself. It was a shameful memory, one he blushed at even now, even as he desperately prayed to any god available, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to your own in a chaste kiss. A kiss so full of longing, a forbidden taste of something he could only pine for, a woman constantly out of his reach. 

♔♕♔

The world was a sea of black. It stretched forever, all you could see. Your body felt weightless, and you blinked, looking around for something, anything. But there was nothing. You faintly remembered an apple, a mirror, and then the sensation of falling, but your memory after that was blank. You decided to walk forward, looking for anything. Your feet made no sound as you pattered across the nothingness, and after what seemed like only a few minutes, your vision began to waver. You felt a creeping sensation on your back, and a voice you could not hear urged you to run, run away from the thing behind you. You knew subconsciously that if it caught you, you would never wake up. And so you ran. 

You flew, your desire to wake propelling your feet, even as your throat begged for water and your legs burned. Somewhere in the distance, you saw light, and in front of that light, a figure. A familiar figure, a figure of a man you loved with all your heart. You ran and ran, and the Chan in the distance held out a hand that you longed to grab. Your feet moved impossibly faster, and you practically flew towards him, even as the sound of slithering behind you grew louder, the creeping sensation sending shivers up your spine. And as you came into the light, as you grabbed his bigger hand in your own, as he pulled you into a warm hug, the world around you faded. The strange dreamscape blurred, and you opened your eyes to the familiar colors of the ceiling, in your private chambers. You blinked, and looked around, your eyes catching on the figure seated beside your bed. Chan looked haggard, his eyes were highlighted by dark circles and his hair was a mess, but the relief in his eyes trumped it all. Your mouth felt dry as you opened it to speak. 

“I'm hungry.”

You watched in confusion as tears slipped from Chan's eyes, and he tackled you on the bed, hugging you tight to his chest. You fell back against the bed, your back hitting the silky covers as pounds of muscle crashed onto you, suffocating you in his embrace. You melted into it, albeit a little confused, and stoked his large back as he cried into your nightgown. Your voice cracked as you spoke again. 

“What's wrong?”

The door crashed open, and your head maid and bedroom maids crashed into the room. As soon as they lay eyes on you they were running to the bed, tears running down their faces. You were beyond confused but no one bothered to answer your questions. It took a long time for everyone to stop crying, and the maids promptly heard your complaint and brought you a bowl of warm soup and bread. Chan, still sniffling, sat in the chair by your bed and looked deliciously disheveled and desperate. You munched happily on your food as the castle staff piled into your room, and answered their questions.

Chan asked the first question. 

“Why did you go into the woods?”

You remembered the thoughts that had sent you into the woods, and now that you thought back on them it seemed oftly extreme. It seemed the mirror might have been the cause of them. You chewed thoughtfully as you answered. 

“This strange mirror, it told me I could be beautiful…”

You play with your spoon, a little ashamed and blushing deeply as you continue. 

“I was a little erratic, I am in love with this man and so I listened to the mirror’s rambles, even if they were irrational.”

You're too focused on your embarrassment to notice the giggles and looks traded among the staff, the way your stepfather's shoulders sink slightly, his disappointed gaze. Because he could never imagine that you love him, you must be in love with some young lord, a man who doesn't deserve your love, who could never give you what you want. He shook his head, putting a stop to that presumptuous line of thought. He knows you deserve someone younger than him, unmarried and full of youthful energy to match your carefree spirit. 

You keep glancing at Chan out of the corner of your eye, looking for any change in his expression, and you watch in delight as his shoulders sink, and his face darkens. You feel a flicker of hope spark in your chest, small and pathetic, but there nonetheless. You decide to test the waters a little. Clasping your hands together, you keep your eye on Chan as you speak. 

“I'm just so in love, I think of him every day, and I long to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You feel a little bad as you watch Chan’s face fall, watch his hands clenched in his lap. The small flame in your heart sputters and grows, roaring to life and heating your heart in a joyful fire. You are now sure he loves you back. He sends you a strained smile, trying to be encouraging. 

“That's, um, wonderful!” The servants giggle behind him, trading secret smiles hidden behind their hands. 

“So, when will I meet this wonderful man?” The emphasis on wonderful makes you want to laugh, and you choke back your giggles as you continue. 

“You know him.” Confusion flashes across his face. “I do?” The staff is muffling laughter behind their hands, but Chan remains ever oblivious. You smirk. “Yes, very well.” 

You think he might be the only person in the room, stuffed to the brim with castle staff, that hasn't gotten it. His brow furrows as he thinks. “Is it Lord Brandish?” You emphatically shake your head. He frowns. “I really can't think of anyone else…”

Your head butler coughed, running a hand through his perfectly combed silver hair. His voice is resigned as he speaks. 

“It's you, sire.”

The room is dead silent. Chan stands, his eyes wide as he turns to the head butler. “Really?” The butler nods, and Chan turns again, tripping over the leg of the chair and crashing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding your soup. Your head maid rescues the food from your lap and you grin as Chan blushes, pulling himself into a sitting position. His voice is uncharacteristically shy as he speaks. 

“Is it really me?” Your beaming as you nod and a hopeful smile lights up his handsome face. You throw the covers off your legs and stand, your feet hitting the soft carpet with a thud. 

Chan takes your hand in his own, and bows before you, bringing his full lips to it. Your heart pounds as he presses a delicate kiss to it. He straightens to his full height “I love you more than you can imagine.” Someone coos in the background, but all you can see is the handsome man in front of you, your hand still clasped in his. He drops your hand, and you feel his hand heavy on your waist, his other hand coming up to caress your jaw, tilting your head up. His voice is so soft as he speaks. 

“When I looked into your eyes, my heart felt like it would escape my chest and run into your arms.” Your own heart feels the same, and you wonder if you might die. He's closer to you now, and all you can see is him. Around you, the servants begin to creep out giggling and smiling as they leave. The door shuts behind the last of them but neither of you notice, too caught up in each other's eyes. His voice is raspy now, and his gaze drops to your lips, darting back up to your eyes and back down. “At that moment… I knew I loved you.” 

He's so cheesy, and if any other man was saying such sugar-coated words, you would laugh in his face. But when Chan says it, your heart pounds in your chest and your cheeks burn with the fire of your heart. You suppose everything is different with him. His breath hits your lips, intermixing with your own as he comes ever closer. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Can I kiss you?” You smile, your hand winding around to grip his shoulders, as you reply. “Please kiss me.”

And so he does. 

♔♕♔

Your wedding is a joyous occasion, the townspeople clap happily, and as you kiss your new husband, under a rain of lilies, clutching the precious flower in your hands, you think back on what an odd set of events had preceded it. To think, in a way, you had your mother to thank for your husband. After all, it was she who brought Chan into your life, her death that had indirectly caused the two of you to have an opportunity to become closer and her magic mirror that pushed you to go trecking into the woods in the first place. And as the joyous wedding bells rang through the air, as you and Chan boarded the carriage and sat side by side, your head on his shoulder as the driver whipped the horses into a trot, you found it in yourself to be thankful to her. For although she had caused you a great deal of pain, in the end it had shaped you into the person you were today, a person full of flaws, yes, but those flaws just made you human. 

“Why are you so quiet. Having second thoughts?”

You giggled, and snuggled closer into your husband's strong embrace. “I would never.” You replied, and tilted your head up for a kiss. 

And as your lips locked, and you drove off into the sunset, you were sure this was the happiest you had been in your whole life, but you knew, there were only happy days to come. 

♔♕♔

taglist: @angieknght, @moasworld, @lofasofabread, @smhlino, @elizalabs3, @orrrgannnic

[helplesslyblue77]

Stray Kids-Fairy Tales with a Twist

a series of fics, each one focusing on an individual member, and placing them into classic fairy tales, each with their own little twist for flavor 

They will come out one at a time, at a random pace, but hopefully i'll be done by september(But with me its hit or miss)

and most of these will have smut

So why dont you sit down, and listen to my tales...

“Once upon a time, in a far away Kingdom...”

Bang Chan...Snow White

“Years ago, your father had died and your mother had remarried. You never liked your step father, simply because he was not your real father, and you made no secret of your dislike. Many years later, your mother died and your step father became the temporary reigning monarch. You vowed the feelings you were feeling were anger, but when you fall prey to a mysterious curse you realize maybe those feelings weren't hatred after all…”

Completed!

Lee Minho...The Little Mermaid

“Merpeople have been disappearing, and your Father, King Triton, gives you a mission. Go to the surface and investigate. You are excited to explore the surface, but upset that you have to be accompanied by the Sea Witch Ursula’s son, Lee Minho, because you think he hates you. But bad things are brewing on the horizon, and you will need all the help you can get, maybe even from the man you ‘don't like’…”

(Coming Soon...)

Seo Changbin...Little Red Riding Hood

It's your birthday and you're on your way to visit your grandmother in the woods. Your mother always told you never to stray from the path, and you had listened, never following the clever words of the wolf. But maybe the wolf didn't want to eat you, maybe he was just lonely…

(Coming Soon...)

Hwang Hyunjin...Beauty and the Beast

You are an enchantress, and long ago, you had punished a spoiled prince with a curse. He would turn into a beast until he felt true love’s kiss. Many years later, you finally decide he has suffered enough and send a sweet girl named Belle to help the cursed prince. But for some reason, the beast refuses to fall in love with her and keeps trying to talk to you…

(Coming Soon...)

Han Jisung...The Frog Prince

Once upon a time while gathering wild mushrooms for dinner, you find a peculiar golden frog. You decide to keep him, not knowing that the frog is actually a cursed prince. You carry on with your daily life, musing about how weird your new pet frog is, until one day, you slip and fall, accidentally placing a kiss on his warty forehead…

(Coming Soon...)

Lee Felix...Cinderella

Once upon a time, you had lived a happy life, with your loving mother and kind father. You had been best friends with a sweet boy who would come to visit you every day. But one day, it all changed. Your mother fell ill, and soon after passed away. The boy suddenly disappeared and your father remarried. Your step mother was kind to you at first, but as soon as your father would leave on his merchant trips, she and her daughters would bully you, forcing you to do all the chores. One day, you hear of the prince's ball. In hopes of meeting a nice man and escaping from your stepmother's house you try your best to go. When you arrive at the masquerade, you are fortunate to dance with the prince. But you have the strangest feeling you have met him before… 

(Coming Soon...)

Kim Seungmin...Rapunzel

Once upon a time, a beautiful princess was born, with golden locks that shined brightly. Fearing for her safety, the king and queen entrusted their daughter to a powerful witch friend, to keep her safe and hidden until she came of age. Years later, on Rapunzel's tenth birthday, a prince came knocking on the tower, mistakenly informed that Rapunzle was much older, and trapped by an evil witch. You quickly drive him away, after explaining the story but for some reason he keeps coming back and bothering you…

(Coming Soon...)

Yang Jeongin...Hansel and Gretal

You are a powerful witch living deep in the forests, whose only wish is to be left alone. One day, a young girl and her older brother venture into the forest, trying to escape their evil stepmother. They both eat part of your candy house, and to apologize, the boy agrees to be your housecleaner for a few months. In return, you promise to help them with their evil stepmother. You try to keep your distance from the boy, but for some reason, hes always following you around, trying to get your attention…

(Coming Soon...)

(This announcement post was mostly made so that i would guilt myself into actually finishing all of these stories, because if i don't leave a record somewhere, i probably won't finish this series to completion.

Oh yeah and the summaries for these might change slightly, i never quite stick to my plans. Don’t worry though, the basic themes will be the same)

[helplesslyblue77]

do you ever just have to many unfinished fic ideas?

like i have an idea for a monster fucker fic but i cant decide what member to use for it(my first inclination was Felix or Jisung but ive already written stuff for them and it feels unfair, my secound idea was mark lee but i feel like i would just simplify his character and not do it justice because ive just gotten into nct...or i could do seungmin or minho but i feel like i would oversimplify them and/or i dont quite know them well to write about them and---)

and then i also have this idea for a more subby member fic but i cant decide if i wanna do Felix or chan or bangchan and again, ive already written stuff for them and it seems unfair but this theme doesnt quite fit for any of the other members and/or i dont feel confident in writing them and---

anyway...its fucking three am and im having a mental breakdown lol

[helplesslyblue77]

bro i cant survive without ao3, i might shrival up and die without my fanfics

[helplesslyblue77]

Your Smile is the Sunrise, It Warms my Heart

Chapter 5: Taehyung is a Weak, Weak Man

You wake up early the next day, to the sun streaming in through the large glass windows and a hesitant knock on your door. You drag yourself out of your warm cocoon of covers and open the door, ignoring your messy state.

Taehyung stands there, looking unfairly handsome, too handsome for your morning self to take. After taking a minute to collect your thoughts, you smile, waving him inside. 

“So, what can I help you with?”

Tae jumps, seemingly remembering why he had bothered you in the first place. “Name, I need a favor.”

You nodded, opening the door wider as he passed by you. You were still in the process of unpacking, boxes littering the floor, so you gestured for him to sit on your bed, plopping down next to him. He fiddled with the end of his sweater, his ears slightly flushed.

He looked unfairly handsome, almost like a marble statue came to life. He looked around nervously, before turning to you. He seemed to be avoiding your eyes, looking somewhere over your shoulder. 

 “Can you be my model?”

You stared at him, a little confused and he rushed to explain.

“I'm a photography major, and I need a solo model for my next assignment. It's just three photoshoots, the theme is Summer Days.”

“And you want me to be your model?” You would be lying if you weren't flattered, watching the way his face heated up in embarrassment. “Well yeah,” he mumbled, uncharacteristically shy. 

You grinned at him. “I'd love to be your model. Just let me eat some breakfast, and we can get started.” 

He jumped up, grinning at you.

“Great! Meet me by Jimin's car, after you finish,” he said, making his way out of the room excitedly. You grinned, his excitement infecting you. This would be fun.

❀❀❀

Taehyung leaned on the side of Jimin's expensive car, studying the list his professor had given them as he assigned the project.

“I'll be housing these in our local museum, so do your best!” he had dropped on them, before exiting happily.

Tae sighed. Most of the things on the list would be fine, but it was the last photo shoot he was worried about. The list specified it had to be a couple shoot. He felt a weird ache in his chest. You would be perfect for that, but he would have to ask one of his brothers to pose with you. He had already decided on the theme, a romantic picnic, and the thought of you cuddling up against one of his brothers, made a weird feeling start in his stomach.

He was suddenly very happy he had settled on that option instead of his other option, “The Wedding Night.” Thoughts of you in lacy white lingerie flooded his mind, grinning seductively at the camera and Tae quickly banished all thoughts of your skin bordered by lacy white from his mind. 

And just in time, you joined him, freshly showered, grinning excitedly. He opened the passenger door and you hopped in.

“So where are we headed?” you asked him as he started the car, pulling out of the driveway.

“There’s a field about fifteen minutes away. The flowers bloom early so it's the perfect place to complete our first set of photos. The first set is your classic, white dress, hat, and flower combo…”

You nodded, grinning. “Do you have all the costumes and such?” 

Tae nodded. “Yeah, I have everything we'll need. The second shoot is a vintage pool-themed one.”

 This seemed to get you excited. “Like heart sunglasses, red lips, and newspapers?”

Tae laughed, you were cute when you were excited. “Exactly. We can just use our pool for that one. The third shot is a little more complicated. We might need another model—”

He was interrupted as he pulled into a parking space and you jumped out excitedly.

“Wow,” you said, gazing at the field in front of you. “It's so beautiful…”

He nodded in agreement, The truth was, he could have just done this photo shoot on the front lawn, he didn't have to drive all the way here. But as he watched you gaze in wonder at the beautiful scenery, he congratulated himself on the choice. You almost sparkled in the sunlight, the rays illuminating your hair, as you turned to him, a beaming smile on your face.

You were saying something, but Taehyung couldn't hear you, too busy focusing on the radiant image that was you, standing among the flowers. 

“—started?” Tae shook himself out of his daze, ears red. “What?” 

You repeat yourself. “I asked, when are we gonna get started?” Tae reached into his truck and pulled out his equipment, handing you a white cotton sundress. “There's a little cottage over there, change into this, then meet me back here so we can finish hair and makeup. You took the dress from him and disappeared into the picturesque cottage. 

Taehyung distracted himself by taking out the makeup pallets and straw hat he had “Borrowed” from Jimin. He pulled out a foldable table and chair as well, setting them up and putting the pouches of makeup down on the table. 

You reappeared, clothed in that white sundress, and Taehyung realized his mistake. When he had picked out the dress, he had thought it was fine. 

The dress was made out of two layers of fabric, the underlayer was a heavy white fabric that reached about midway down your thigh. The overlayer was a thin chiffon fabric and completely see-through. 

That wouldn't be a problem, what with the second layer being long, but he hadn't anticipated how thin it was, large swaths of thigh showing through the fabric. Tae gulped and motioned you over to the chair.

“Sit here, I'll do your makeup.” you sat down obediently, your dress riding up even more, and closed your eyes, tilting your face upwards.

Taehyung valiantly focused his eyes on your face and assessed it. You were already wearing a base, so all he had to do was the eyes and, he shuddered a little, lips.

Fine, eyes, he could do that.

He picked up the pallet, and began, using pale pinks and shimmers to match the wildflowers behind you. 

❀❀❀

It only took him about fifteen minutes, thanks to Youtube tutorials. He settled back assessing his work as you opened your eyes.

He had to admit, you looked breathtaking. Like an angel, or a fairy, clothed in white, hat held against your chest, hair in a gentle updo, falling gracefully around your shoulders. The light makeup only served to highlight your etherealness, and Tae felt a bit melancholy all of a sudden, you grinned at him, all smiles.

He suddenly wondered what it would have been like if the two of you had met under different circumstances. 

You looked at him, “What should I do?” you asked him as you walked back into the field.

Taehyung shook all thoughts of coffee dates and honeymoons out of his head and began directing you in different poses, snapping pictures as he went. He had to admit, you were a natural. The way you posed looked natural and not at all forced, and you seemed at home with a camera on you. As he looked back at the pictures, you leaning over his shoulder, his senses flooded with the scent of your shampoo, and he asked you about it.

You laughed, the sound light and airy in his ear, your breath tickling his neck, “I did drama, all through high school. I also have a friend who is majoring in directing, and he likes doing little film projects. I was often dragged into those.”

Tae looked up, curious. “Do you have any?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I have a lot! Do you wanna see them?”

Tae nodded, he would very much like to see them, and you grinned. “Maybe later then.” was all you said, making your way back to the car. 

Taehyung cleaned the rest of the mess and followed you. He knew he had made the right decision.

❀❀❀

The two of you arrived home, ate some leftovers from last night, and Taehyung handed you the bathing suit. You asked him, “Do you want me to do my makeup this time?” he nodded, telling you what he wanted and you ran upstairs to change, as he went outside, pulling the beach chairs into place and collecting his props. 

For this shoot, he was using a wine glass, a newspaper, and some sunglasses…he ticked things off on his list as he went.

“What are you doing?” 

He was interrupted by a curious Yoongi, who eyed the camera suspiciously, book in hand. “School stuff,” Tae said vaguely, trying to get him to leave. For some reason, he didn't want Yoongi to see you in a bikini.

As if on cue, you walked out, wearing only said bikini.

When Taehyung had picked out the Bikini, he had tried to find a relatively modest one, and he thought he had succeeded, he really had. 

But he had overlooked the fact that it was a Bikini. Large swaths of skin were on display, and Taehyung had to yank his eyes away from your long legs. He looked up, only to be met with your boobs. 

Fuck, the bikini was too small, but it would have to do.

He heard a choking sound from the door and turned to a red-faced Yoongi. He smirked at Tae.

“So this is the kind of photoshoot you were doing huh?”

Tae glared, and you turned around, smiling at him. “Hi, Yoongi. What are you up to?”

He smirked at you, subtly grabbing a pillow and placing it on his lap, opening his book. 

“Just ignore me, I'll be over here reading,” he said, ignoring the glare, Taehyung sent his way. You turned your eyes to him and Tae swallowed hastily, telling you what to do. You positioned yourself on the lawn chair, sunglasses on, and leaned back, letting Taehyung snap a few pictures.

It was all going fine, Taehyung had managed to distract himself by taking pictures, until he had smashed into the table, knocking some props to the floor.

He reached for it, but you beat him to it, bending over to pick it up. 

Taehyung almost dropped his camera. Wonderful, he thought as he looked down and groaned.

He was hard. He needed to wrap this up before you noticed. What was he thinking when he chose this theme? Why had he ever thought this was going to be a good idea? 

As if things couldn't get any worse, Jin chose this moment to walk out onto the porch.

He took in the scene. You in a too-small bikini, boobs practically falling out of the top. A flustered Taehyung with his camera, and Yoongi, reading an upside-down book.

He sighed, “Dinners ready, you guys.”

You turned to Taehyung. “All finished?” you asked and he nodded, trying to subtly move behind the table.

You turned to Yoongi, “Oh right, Tae said we need another person to be in the shoot tomorrow, you wanna help?” Yoongi smirked at you, “Anything you want.” he said. Tae noticed the blush that made its way onto your cheeks and glared.

You were too excited to notice, running into the house to change. Jin cleared his throat. “What are you guys doing?”

“Photoshoot.” Taehyung ground out. “For school.”

“In a bikini?”

They both ignored him. 

Jin sighed. “Well anyway, it's dinner. Come inside and eat with us.”

[helplesslyblue77]

Your Smile is the Sunrise, It Warms my Heart

Chapter 4: Family Meeting Take One, and a Prince in a Yellow Raincoat

The dinner had been lovely, Namjoon reminisced. The restaurant was a family favorite and he could see you had enjoyed it too, happily chatting away with Jungkook and Yoongi. After dinner, the group had arrived home, and you had disappeared upstairs, telling the boys you were taking a nap. 

Namjoon surveyed the five boys sitting around the large dining room table, their faces painted with different levels of guilt or defiance. He opened his mouth. 

“Usual rules for a family meeting, one person speaks at a time, no interrupting—”

Taehyung interrupted him. “Why isn't Name here, she's part of our family now.”

Namjoon sighed, “What did I just say about not interrupting! And she can't be here for this family meeting because—”

Namjoon was interrupted again, this time by you as you came down the stairs, purse in hand.

You smiled at them, pulling your hair back into a ponytail. “Im headed out,” you said, walking towards the door, “Need to get some essentials from the drug store.” 

It was Jimin who responded, smirking at you. “Out to get some more of that sexy lon—” You tossed your turtleneck sweater at him, smacking him in the face, and made a hasty exit, slamming the door behind you. 

Jungkook glared at Jimin.

“Stop harassing Noona.”

He yanked your sweater out of Jimins hands and folded it carefully, setting it on the table. Jimin just smirked. “Your just jealous I made my move first—”

Jungkook lunged over the table, aiming for a laughing Jimin, but was stopped quickly by Tae, who shoved him back into his seat.

Namjoon sighed.

“I think you know why I‘ve called this emergency family meeting.”

“Yeah, cause Jimin’s a little b—”

“Your just mad she liked me more—”

“Jungkook, Jimin, quiet.”

Jungkook glared. Jimin smirked back. Jin sighed. 

“Jungkook.” He said, turning to his first victim. “How long have you had a crush on Name?”

Namjoon thought the youngest's face might explode. Jungkook frantically waved his hands, stuttering out denial after denial. The others just shook their heads. Yoongi’s head dropped to the table, and he sighed. 

Jungkook gave up and answered quietly his face bright red. “A few months.”

Namjoon felt a headache start behind his temples as Jungkook looked up again, his angry gaze directed at Taehyung this time. “Why am I in trouble? Taehyung had his hands all over her last night, during the tour!”

Taehyung frowned slightly, opening his mouth, but before he could respond, the door slammed open and You ran in. “Forgot my sweater.” was all you said.

You spotted it and ran over, swiping it off the table. As you bent down, Namjoon noticed something.

A dark bruise on your collarbone.

Another below your jaw.

He watched in slow motion as Jungkook turned, looked at you, and noticed the bruises, no, hickeys, on your neck. Namjoon watched Jungkook's face go white, then red, then green with envy.

And then, just because he could, Jimin decided that he hadn't caused enough chaos and jumped in, winking at you. “Name, as much as I love seeing the marks I left on you—”

You squeaked in embarrassment and fled the scene, the door slamming behind you. 

Namjoon could pinpoint the exact moment Jimin's words sank in, he could see the moment everyone realized what had happened. And just then, chaos erupted.

“Namjoon, Jimin’s harassing Name—”

“HE LEFT NONCONSENSUAL HICKEYS ON HER—”

“I bet she didn't even enjoy it—”

“Oh, she very much enjoyed it, she was almost grinding against me and she made the sweetest noises—”

“HOW DARE YO—”

“Everyone please stop yelling, Jungkook stop attacking Jimin—”

“HE LEFT HICKEYS ON NAME’S NECK—”

“Yoongi get off the table, Jungkook sTOP—”

“I HAD A CRUSH ON HER FIRST—”

“It doesn't matter, she obviously likes me the most—”

“No, she likes me the most—”

“Yeah but we share the musical connec—”

“SHUT UP YOONGI YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A CRUSH ON HER—”

“Maybe I do—”

“Wait you said you would fall for her—”

“I haven't—”

“WAIT HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE A CRUSH ON MY CRUSH—”

“She's not yours—”

“I LIKED HER FIRST—”

“EVERYONE BE QUIET”

Namjoon shouted, massaging his temples. The table went silent. “One at a time, please. And Jungkook? No yelling.”

Jungkook glared sulkily.

“First of all, Jimin.”

Namjoon directed his glare at the offending brother.

Jimin didn't look fazed.

“Please do not ‘Harass’ our new step-sister, in any way—” Namjoon held up a hand when he tried to protest.

“No buts. Jungkook. Stop trying to attack Jimin. Name is a grown woman, she can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, end of story.”

Jungkook stared moodily at the wall, crossing his arms. “And this last one is for everyone. Please, for the love of GOD, try not to fall in love with Name.”

Jin jumped in, “and if you already have.” he eyed Jungkook, “or are in the process of…” he aimed his gaze at Tae and Yoongi, and they looked away, guiltily.

“Do not, for the love of everything holy, act on it. She is our new sister.”

Jungkook pipped up, his voice accusing. “We shouldn't let Jimin be alone with her. He's dangerous.”

Jimin grinned, and Namjoon felt an impending sense of doom as he opened his mouth.

“But she obviously likes me the best, and we've become so close! She even showed me her sexy underwear. Did you know she likes black lace—”

“YOU'VE SEEN HER UNDERWEAR—”

It took both Namjoon and Jin’s combined efforts to drag Jungkook off a smirking Jimin. Yoongi and Taehyung were absolutely no help, and Namjoon noticed they both sent Jimin glares of their own as he waltzed upstairs, not a care in the world.

As soon as Jimin was upstairs Jungkook sulked off to the living room, and soon the sounds of overwatch filled the space. Jin yelled at him to close the door and the noise settled down a bit, more like background noise.

Namjoon turned to the remaining brothers. 

Tdaehyung interjected, ears red. “Just so you know, I don't have a crush on Name. I'm just protecting her.”

Yoongi nodded along and Jin sighed, waving them off.

“Family meeting hereby dismissed,” he said and the two of them meandered upstairs, chatting quietly as they went. Namjoon and Jin made eye contact, sighing.

Jin groaned. “It's so much worse than we thought.”

Namjoon nodded his head in agreement, “And Hobi isn't even back yet. I just know he's going to crumble like wet cement, one smile and it's over.”

Jin stood up, making his way to the antique alcohol cabinet and grabbing a merlot, slamming a glass in front of himself and Namjoon. Namjoon nodded gratefully, taking a hearty swig, and sighed. As if on cue, his phone beeps, ‘Hobi’ flashing up on the screen. 

“Just got back, be home soon ;)”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Hoseok's back.”

His phone beeps again, this time it's you. 

“At the grocery store, need anything?”

Namjoon looks up. “Names at the grocery store, do we need her to pick anything up?”

Jin nodes, downing his glass of whine. “I'll send her the shopping list.”

❀❀❀

Jin’s shopping list came through with a ping and you grimaced, walking into the grocery store to accept your fate. You should have realized how long it was, after all, it was a house full of boys. Grimly you made your way into the produce section.

“Alright…” you hummed to yourself, “First on the list…carrots, zucchini, eggplant….lettuce, and cucumbers. They should be over here…here! Now bell peppers…green onions…”

By the time you finished up the produce and headed to the butcher to pick up some very expensive cuts of meat, it was 3:30 and you weren't even halfway through. You sighed, lugging your cart into the dairy section to pick up three gallons of milk and an offensive amount of cheez, silently cursing your kind offer.

“Alright, what's next…cereal, maple syrup…gochujang…soy sauce…alright! Off to the condiment section.”

❀❀❀

You swore the cashier was laughing at you as they rang you up, putting an obscene amount of bags into the cart. You glared at the receipt and pocketed it, dragging your cart full of grocery bags into the car. By some miracle, you managed to load them into the back of Jin’s van, without any major accidents.

The ride home was mostly peaceful, but the real trouble came when you parked outside the house, and opened the back. You groaned, mentally calculating how many trips it would take to get all your groceries into the house and grimly pick up two bags, making your way up the driveway and dumping them unceremoniously on the front porch.

It went smoothly until you tried to carry the seven cases of beer up at one time and bumped into another handsome man. This one was wearing a yellow jacket and bucket hat and he miraculously managed to catch the flying beer and look attractive in yellow at the same time. You immediately apologized but the man just waved it off, smiling at you.

“You must be Name, our new sister?” when you nodded he continued, “I'm Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi. Now, do you need any help with all those groceries? Your face lit up and you smiled gratefully as he followed you back to the car.

“It's nice to meet you Hobi.” he grabbed a couple of bags and you busied yourself with the rest of the beer. “Yeah, I was out shopping and I offered to get some groceries for Jin.” Hobi winced, “How mean of him, making a pretty girl carry all of this stuff by herself. You tried to ignore the ‘Pretty girl’ comment and quickly shook your head. “It's not his fault, ok maybe it is…but I did volunteer so…”

You let the sentence trail off the Hobi grinned. His smile seemed to light up the air around him, and although it was a sunny day, the air brisk and barely a cloud in the sky, Hobi’s cheerful smile seemed to be brighter than the sun.

You watched in awe as he somehow opened the door with his hands full of groceries and ushered you inside, the two of you making your way to the kitchen. “So Hobi,” you said, dropping your groceries on the kitchen counter.

“Jimin told me you're a dancer,” Hoesok nodded and followed you back outside, grabbing another round of groceries. “Yes, I was traveling with my dance company, that's why I couldn't be here to meet you with the others, I do some shows and stuff. You are welcome to come if you wish.”

“Really? When's your next show?”

“Well I'm taking a short break for the wedding, but I'd be happy to show you anything—”

Jimin slammed open the kitchen door, “Jin, where is the god damn—Oh Hobi, your back.”

You watched awkwardly as Hobi set down his groceries and the two of them did some kind of ‘bro’ hug. Jimin made eye contact with you and you looked away, quickly setting the last of the groceries on the counter. Jimin swiped a beer off the counter, but Namjoon walked in, sent him a glare and he sulkily put it back. They made eye contact for a minute before Namjoon nodded, shoving Jimin in your direction. Jimin opened his mouth. 

“Name, I'm very sorry for leaving ONE HUNDRED PERCENT TOTALLY CONSENSUAL HICKEYS—”

this part was aimed at Namjoon,

“On your neck and I promise to totally one hundred percent do it again—”

“Jimin…”

“Fine. I promise to NEVER do it again…Unless you want me to…”

Namjoon glared at him but Jimin just laughed, swiped a beer, and made a beeline for the stairs, leaving a blushing you, a confused Hobi, and a beyond-tired Namjoon.

He turned to you, and sighed, swiping a beer for himself. “Name, I'm really sorry for Jimin's behavior,” he said, taking a swig.

You tried to calm your blush. “No it's ok, it's kinda my fault anyway, it took me too long to push him away.”

Hoesok jumped in, shooting the two of you a confused glance. “What's this about hickeys?” 

As if on cue Jungkook stalked into the kitchen.

He was so grumpy you wore you could see a little rain cloud floating above his head, the occasional strike of lightning cracking through the air. Shooting you a smile he dragged Hobi’s arm and yanked him bodily out of the room. You thought you heard a faint, “I'll explain…”. Before a door slammed shut upstairs. 

Namjoon turned to you. “Did you get everything you needed at the drugstore?”

You nodded, holding up a bag, and smiled at him, still a little red. “I'm gonna head upstairs to unpack. Tell Jin I got the groceries,” you said, before making a hasty exit. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Something 'Bout You

Chapter 2: The Roomates, And Jerk #1

“Jisung! Seungmin! Jeongin! I'm home!” You're met with the concerning sounds of crashing from the living room, followed by indigent shouting. 

“Seunmin, you can't shove me, that's cheating!”

“SeUnGmIn yOu CaNt sHoVe mE—”

Another crash erupts from the living room. Then more shouting. 

“This is Mario Kart, there are no rules.”

“Bitch, that doesn't make any sense—”

“Jeongin! Don't let such filthy words escape your mouth—”

Looks like your roommates are home. All of them by the amount of noise coming from the living room. You take your time, knowing that nothing dangerous is happening there.

“Be careful, you're going to knock over Noona’s pretty vase.”

“I am being careful, I'm always careful—”

Seungmin’s laughter sounds from the living room, followed by another crash and a grunt. Then the sound of shattering glass. You pray for your vase. 

“Seungmin, look what you did.”

“Noona’s going to be so mad.”

“Hurry. Jisung, pass me the garbage bags, maybe she won't notice it's gone.”

You smirk, practically gliding into the living room. 

“Notice what's gone?”

Three equally guilty faces greet you.

They're crouched on the floor, the TV still showing the highlights from the game. Gathered shards of broken glass and crushed flowers littering your carpet, like three toddlers that just broke their mother's favorite wine glass. In a way, they are.

You sigh. It's to be expected, living with two men, that this stuff will happen, and it's gotten worse. Jeongin, bless his heart, is unbelievably clumsy. Although from the shouting it sounded like it was Seungmin this time. You put your hands on your hips, glaring down at them. 

“So…who did it.”

Jeongin and Jisung slowly back away from Seungmin, pointing accusing fingers at him. 

“It was him,” Jisung says, now safely hiding behind the couch. Seungmin glares at them, betrayed. 

“How could you do this to me, after all the stuff I know you guys did.”

You frown, “What? Did you guys break anything else?”

The two boys hiding behind the couch trade glances, then leap into action. 

“Actually Noona, it was all of our fault, we accidentally, um, crashed into the side table and knocked over the vase.”

“All of you? At the same time?”

“Yeah…haha…totally. Right guys?”

“Yeah yeah, that's right Name.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the side table. 

“The side table is only a foot wide.”

“We…uh…we were all huddled together! Yeah, that's it!”

They avoid your eyes guiltily. You feel a bit guilty. Whoever did it, it was an accident, and they kind of look like kicked puppies right now. It tugs on your heartstrings.

“Whatever, just clean up the mess ok? I'm sore from the gym, so I'm gonna go sit down.”

They nod, scrambling up for the mop and broom. 

You sink into the chair, watching them.

It was certainly eventful, living when two, now three male roommates. They were usually easy though. They were relatively clean, very kind and for some reason, none of them had ever brought anyone home.

It was kind of a mystery, to be honest, they were such handsome dudes, you figured they had people lining up for them. But apparently, you were mistaken. 

Honestly, if they weren't your roommates, you would have hooked up with them, in an instant.

But you had a strict policy: 

‘No Fucking friends, No fucking Roommates, No Fucking Instructors, No Fucking Coworkers.’

Any of these relationships could be potentially ruined by one your life, or someone else's life or just make things plain awkward. So for your sanity, you tried your best to follow them.

Honestly, that policy was starting to screw you over, but your will remained strong. You even had a sign in your room reminding you.

Jeongin tapped your shoulder, sending you a shy smile.

“Um Noona, I'm sorry about your vase.”

You pat his head, he is such a cutie. 

He meets your eyes, his own pretty ones curving up with his smile. 

“You said you were sore…from the gym? If you want, I can give you a massage…”

He trails off, his ears flushing shyly and you swoon. He's so adorable. You wish you had a little brother like him! Sohee was so lucky. 

“I'd love that Jeongin. Thanks, you're such a dear.”

His smile lights up his face, and he takes your hand, escorting you to the sofa and gesturing for you to lie down. 

You giggle and oblige as he climbs on top of you, crouching over you as he begins to work circles into tight shoulders. It feels heavenly and you don't notice the…ehem…interesting sounds you let out. 

Distantly, you hear the clatter of someone dropping a broom. But you're much too far gone to notice. 

◻◻◻

Jisung has that evil little brat pinned. He might have fooled you with his innocent act, but Jisung had seen that man's search history. He watched balefully as he climbed on top of you. Damn that brat was smart, he had gotten to you first. 

Jisung was sure the brat was only doing it as an excuse to feel you up, not out of actual concern. 

Now if he was doing it, he would do it properly, and not as an excuse to feel your pretty body…absolutely not…no way…

You let out a sound, and Jisung’s soul rockets out of his body and into the stratosphere. 

“Oh, Ah.”

Seungmin’s broom clatters to the floor.

“Ohhhh, Jeongin that feels so gooood.”

Yep, they're all going to hell. 

“Jisung, you're drooling.”

Jisung glares at Seungmin. “Maybe whip that dumb look off your face before you talk to me like that—”

“Guys be quiet, let Noona enjoy her massage.”

That little brat. Jisung and Seungmin form a temporary alliance. 

“So Name.” Seungmin starts. “How did your day go?”

You still have your eyes closed, but you open your mouth, your words interspersed with little moans. Jisung does his best to focus on your words and not the…um…other sounds that leave your mouth.

“Well, in dance class, Instructor… ooohhh …Instructor Park paired me with That Jerk Hyunjin, for a dance assignment! He litera… ohhhh Jeongin…right there!… He literally knows that jerk hates me and he still pared up! The good news is—”

You stop, interrupted by a particularly loud moan, and Jisung clutches the mop in his hands hard enough to break the cheap plastic handle. 

He's just sexually attracted to you, he tells himself. Seungmin seems to read his mind. He scoffs. Jisung glares and sinks into the armchair.

“Anyway, the good news is that Instructor Park agree to let Felix —”

You almost moan the name, and Jisung wishes you would moan his name like that. Wait no he doesn't—

“Anyway, I emailed him and he said he’ll add Felix to the dance so we Quote ‘won't kill each other.’. Have you met Instructor Park? He’s literally so fine, if he wasn't my teacher id—anyway, he always seemed like he knows something I don't, but the… .ohhhhhh yeahhh …the good news is that I won't have to stand Hyunjin all alone.”

You turn to him, opening your eyes slightly and Jisung subtly pulls the throw blanket over his lap. 

“And after that, I had a class with Chan, then I went to the gym. Oh yeah! Have I told you guys how fine my new Gym Coach is? His name is Changbin and he's so sexy… Yeah Jeongin, do that again!… like I'm not usually into muscles, you know? But I'd totally let this dude throw me around with those sexy arms of his and… ohhhhhhh …anyway, what were you guys doing?”

Seungmin jumps in. “Oh nothing much, just playing some games.”

You giggle, “And apparently destroying my expensive vase, the one that was a gift from Sohee before she left.”

“We’re very sorry, Name.” Jisung wines, sending you his best puppy eyes. 

You smile at him, “I know, I'm just teasing you Jisu uUNG ohhh —”

You cut his name off with a moan and Jisung thinks that's the sexyest thing he's heard in a while. And he is an avid porn connoisseur. He saves the sound away for later. Seungmin glares at him and Jeongin hops off you. 

“All done, Noona.”

He speeds off, and Jisung chuckles to himself. If he wasn't so jealous he would feel sorry for the poor man. You stare after him in confusion. 

“Why did he run off so fast?”

Neither of them answer you so you shrug, letting the subject drop. 

The three of you sit in silence for a moment, before you shriek, hurriedly standing up and racing to your room with a shout. “SHIT I HAve wooooooooork…” Fading off into the distance. Soon your back changed into your work uniform, and grabbing your purse as you run out the door. You send Seungmin and Jisung a wave. 

“See you guys later, don't break anything else.”

The door slammed behind you. 

Seungmin smirks. 

“Your sooooooo in love with her, it's sad.”

Jisung hits him with a pillow. “Touche Bitch.”

Seungmin stares sadly at the front door, and Jeongin joins them.

“You know how much competition we have right? Chan and Minho have known her way longer than we have…”

Jisung groans. “And she thinks she hates Hyunjin but…and of course, she's always talking about how Felix is such a ‘Cutie’…”

Jeongin sighs, flopping onto the couch. “And then there's this new guy…Changbin…”

Depressed sighs fill the house, Seungmin falls onto the couch you had abandoned, his head hitting the cushions. 

“Even Instructor Park and the other one…Instructor Jung have us beat. Even though they would never date her.”

“Yeah, she’s always going on and on about them, have you two ever met them?”

“No, but Noona also talks about Mr. Min, the Instructor in charge of the volunteer orchestra too. She says he's—” Jeongin holds up his hands, his fingers making parentheses in the air. “Like hella cute but super sexy you know? And his hands—”

Seungmin giggles. “We’re so lucky those three are professors…”

He lets the sentence trail off and the three men flop back onto the couch, with matching sighs. Jisung speaks up. 

“We should make a club. The ‘people who have a crush on Name’, Club.”

No one laughs. 

“It's funny, you can laugh”

“Jisung, it's not funny when it's real life.”

◻◻◻

You love almost everything about your job. You work in a quaint little cafe, and you know you're lucky to have scored the job. The owner, another handsome man in his late twenties, had hired you right off the bat. 

“You're cute, the customers will like you. And you're nice.”

So, you had been handed the job. You had asked one of the senior workers, Jennie, about it and she had just shrugged. “Mr. Wang works in mysterious ways.”

You loved the atmosphere of the cafe, with its quaint flower boxes and checkered table clothes. You loved talking to the friendly regulars you got, in short, you loved everything about your job.

“You're doing it wrong, loser.”

Well, almost everything.

You sent the sweet lady at the cash register a smile. 

“That will be 7.50. Have a nice day.”

She smiled back and took her coffee and scone and went to her table. 

You turned to Minho, the customer service smile melting off your face. “Jerk. What are you talking about?”

He smirked. “You have to repeat the order to the customer, you know that.”

You want to slap that stupid sexy smirk right off his face. 

“I know that. And I was about to right until you interrupted me—”

“Alright you two, that's enough.” 

Your coworker, Jennie smirks. For some reason, she and your other coworkers always have these stupid smiles painted across their faces like they know something you don’t. 

Everyone who works at the cafe is unfairly attractive, and sometimes it makes you feel a little insecure. But then you remember, you work here too…

Mark, your other coworker comes over from the back, and he and Jennie exchange grins.

You glare at them balefully. 

They giggle, sending little smirks in your and Minho’s direction. Mark grabs Minho, and drags him off into the back, sending you a wave. 

Jennie accosts you by the cash register. 

“So girl, what's the deal with you and Miho.”

You grimace. “There's no ‘Deal’ and don't we have customers?”

Jennie gestures at the mostly empty cafe. You sigh, she got you there. 

She stares at you expectantly. 

You poach a muffin from the display, handing her half. 

“I've known him forever, he's such a jerk.”

She just giggles. “You think he's handsome…right?”

You frown. “No, he's an ugly jerk.”

“Sure.”

“Id literally rather fuck a doorknob than him.”

“Uh, huh.”

You lean closer to her, and she bends down. 

“Fine, I maybe used to have a small, tiny, miniscule crush in high school—”

Jennie interrupts you with a squeal. You shush her. 

“But he turned me down, really rudely too, so I got over it.”

Jennie frowns in confusion, but you glance at the clock, sending her a wave. 

“It's time for me to clock out! Bye!”

With record speed you shed your apron and grab your things, running out the door. Jennie waves after you, laughing to herself behind the counter. 

Mark joins her by the counter, and the two of them watch as Minho grabs his coat, chasing after you. 

"He's whipped." Yeonjun, the next shift watches as Minho grabs your arm, speaking. Jennie giggles as you shake him off, stomping away. He follows you like a lost puppy. 

"She doesn't notice." Jennie grabs a slice of cake out of the display. "All those dumb comments are just plays for attention."

She glares as Mark takes the cake away, putting it back into the display. "The man can't flirt, it's bad."

Yeonjun grabs the same slice of cake, taking a bite it before Mark can take it away again.

"You say that like you would do ay better." he dances away from Marks halfhearted smacking and Jennie laughs again. Even if you dont realize it yourself, your life is so interesting. 

She, as a harmless spectator, can't wait for things to heat up. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Your Smile is the Sunrise, It Warms my Heart

Chapter 3: Of Underwear and Chinese Food

The ride back to your old apartments was subdued. Jimin was driving, he had volunteered both his car and his driving services and you had happily accepted. The two of you carried on a quiet conversation, about directions and useless things, while Jungkook was quite the entire drive.

You had the fleeting thought that something was wrong, but when you whispered the question to Jimin he just laughed, shaking his head.

“He’s just a little sulky,” he whispered, guiding the conversation back to normal topics.

You leaned back against the leather seat of Jimin’s Porsche, careful not to get anything on the seats. Jimin had assured you it was alright, but you still felt nervous. It was a luxury car! You had the fleeting thought, wondering what job he had to afford such a car. Jimin pulled up to the curb of your old apartment and pulled a mask out of the glove compartment.

“We're here!” he said brightly, slipping on the mask as Jungkook opened your door.

“Thanks.” You shot him a grateful smile. He smiled back, averting his eyes.

The metal stairs clanged as the three of you walked upstairs to the second floor, stopping at #6194.

You typed in the code and stepped into your old apartment. The floor was littered with boxes and you turned to Jungkook. “Can you start putting boxes in the moving truck? It should be here in a minute.”

He nodded and picked up two boxes, his arms flexing.

You tried not to stare. 

Jimin looked at you.

“What about me.” he pouted, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You stopped drooling over Jungkook's arms and led him to your closet. It was still full, racks upon racks of clothes still needing to be packed.

“You can help me with these.”

Jimin looked around, eyes wide. “Wow.”

You laughed. “Yeah clothes are my weakness.” you started on the shirts and blazers.

“There are boxes over in the corner, you can start over there.” you gestured at your dresser vaguely and he nodded, opening the top drawer. 

“So Name, I hear you share a class with Jungkook?” he began to fold your pajama shirts.

You folded up a green button down, “Yes, we have the same English class, I remember at the beginning of the year all the girls were freaking out. It was pretty funny.”

Jimin laughs, “And what about you Name, were you freaking out?”

You laugh, “Maybe a little, at first.” you admit. “But I was to broken up about my ex to pay to much attention.”

You're too busy folding clothes to notice Jimin freeze. 

“I bet he didn't even notice me.” you laugh a little, “Maybe that's why he looked so spooked out when he found out I was his sister.”

Jimin went back to folding, chuckling to himself.

“Maybe.” was all he said, as he closed the top drawer of the dresser and opened the one below it. 

“What about you,” you asked him, “are you still in school?”

“I'm taking a year off for work, I'm twenty-four, just like you.”

You laughed a little as you made a new box. “What do you do?”

Jimin stopped folding and came up behind you, throwing his arms around your shoulders.

“That's a secret,” he whispered into your neck and you swore he was doing it on purpose. 

“What about the others?” you distracted yourself.

Jimin separated himself from you, walking back over to the dresser.

“Jin’s a doctor, both Tae, and Kookie are in school. Namjoon works as a TA while he's getting his teaching license and Yoongi does some music stuff. Hoseok, who you haven't met yet, is a dancer.”

“A dancer?”

“Yeah, he does some modern dance stuff. One of his shows is coming up. I could take you.” you smile over your shoulder at him. “I would like that, Thanks”

You opened another box, “Where does Tae go to school?”

Jimin closed the second drawer, opening the one below it.

You didn't notice how he froze, or how his breath stuttered a little bit. And you definitely didn't notice the smirk that crawled across his face as you continued.

“Does he go to the same school as Jungkook and I? I don't remember ever seeing—”

You yelped as you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist, his lithe body pressed flush against yours.

“My My Name.” He practically crooned, his cursed fingers tracing little patterns up your sides and stopping just below your boobs.

“How naughty of you.”

You frowned, confused, and turned on and opened your mouth to question him when he took one hand off your body and reached back.

He lifted his hand back around, a thin piece of black lace draped from his fingertips.

You froze, face hot. Right, the third drawer was your lingerie.

In your conversation, you had completely forgotten. “I'm sorry, Jimin.” you managed, your face beyond flushed at this point. 

He laughed, his voice low and seductive. “Oh, believe me, Name, I don't mind one bit.”

You could feel his body, the heat of it pressed against your back, and not for the first time the stray thought crossed your mind.

‘God I need to get laid.’

Here you were getting so thirsty over your new brothers. Although this one, in particular, wasn't really helping, you thought to yourself.

And Park Jimin, like the devil he was decided just then to press his lips against the column of your neck. You let out an embarrassing sound, a tiny little moan, and he grinned against your neck.

You needed to stop this, you needed to, this was so wrong—

But Jimin was leaving little open mouth kisses on your neck, working his way down and tracing his hand up your body to your breasts and your brain was just too fuzzy to stop him.

“It's too bad really,” Jimin crooned against your ear, his stupid wandering hands finally reaching your breasts.

You let out a little moan as you felt his plush lips open slightly, his tongue scraping your neck as he left a hickey right above your collarbone. You whimpered, heat pooling in the base of your stomach. He pressed closer and you felt him, the hot line of his cock pressed against your butt.

You squirmed a little and he let out a groan, sucking another hickey right below your jaw. “I wish you—”

A loud crash startled the both of you and you jumped apart, startled.

Right. Jungkook was in the other room.

You glared as Jimin let out a shaky laugh, the both of you turning back to your closet. You were too annoyed with yourself to hear the way his tone wavered or to see the flush making its way up his neck.

Your hands shook a little as you finished folding up the clothes and helped Jimin carry the boxes out into the living room. What the hell were you doing? This was your stepbrother.

Although this time it wasn't all your fault, you thought to yourself. Unlike your ‘moments’ with the rest of your brothers, Jimin was the instigator.

He was troubled with a capital T and you decided not to be alone with him, for your own sanity.

❀❀❀

After Jungkook had finished loading all the boxes in the moving van and sent it off, he suggested a place to get lunch.

“It's a great Chinese place,” he said, opening the door for you, ever the gentleman.

“It's near the shopping district anyway and Jin wanted some groceries.” you agreed. Chinese sounded good. You hopped into the car. If Jungkook noticed how you sat in the back this time, he didn't say anything. 

The ride was mostly uneventful, except when Jungkook and Jimin got into an argument about who got music privileges(Jimin won because it was his car.)

You closed your eyes, letting the music lull you into a sense of security. You could hear Jimin humming softly to himself, Junkook silent beside you. Before you had left the apartment you had had the good sense to put on a turtleneck sweater, covering up the marks Jimin had left on your neck. It only covered the one near your collarbone, but you arranged your hair so the other one was at least slightly disguised. 

You sighed, looking out the window. Your life had been mostly uneventful before.

Your father was wealthy, so you were always comfortable, but not rich. He had valued high-quality food and a high-quality education over material things, and as a result, he had spent hundreds of dollars on fresh produce every week, you had attended a private boarding school in the states, had been given the highest education, and had graduated with honors. But it was a lonely and uneventful life.

Your mother had died when you were three and your father had crumpled in on himself. He had spent less and less time at home, with you, and more and more time at work. He was never mean to you, just distant. You had spent your early years with your nanny, a kind middle-aged woman by the name of Anna. Anna had raised you well, and you still received postcards from her in the male.

She was like a second mother to you.

When you entered Saint Catherines K-12 Boarding School, the loneliness had eased.

You had met Emma and A-Jún, and the three of you had been inseparable. Your father had grown even more distant when you reached eleventh grade, and in retaliation, you had acted out even more.

You had spray painted obscenities on the walls, got bad grades, and hooked up with so many boys, girls, anyone really.

You had dated the school bad boy, the one who had gotten arrested for drugs a year earlier, just to get his attention. It had failed, and you had ended up with a broken heart, and a bad report card. Thankfully the Nuns and Saint Cathrines had been very forgiving and had let you off with a warning.

You still remembered the night you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. You had cried in A-Jún’s arms, letting him rub your back gently, murmuring soothing words. Emma had been away, working on another Drama project, and as she was the voice of reason the both of you were feeling reckless.

A-Jún had suggested it first, while you had cried all over his expensive green silk shirt, a horribly reckless and at the same time truly wonderful idea. And thus, the two of you had spent the first part of the night egging your ex-boyfriend's dorm while he and his roommates were away.

It was exhilarating, letting it all out as you spent your week's allowance on eggs and toilet paper. When the two of you had finished, the dorm was a disaster, with eggs and toilet paper strewn across the walls and floor. You had laughed, your face flushed with exhilaration and adrenaline, and jumped into A-Jún’s arms.

At that moment, another idea popped into your head. A stupid, reckless idea, but at the same time, the best you had ever had. An idea that would haunt your waking hours until you decided to act upon it, an idea that—

“Name, we're here.”

You were pulled out of your memories by the devil incarnate, also known as Jimin, as he shut off the radio, and hopped out of the car opening your door. You stepped out and slipped your sunglasses on, looking around.

You followed the boys into a small Chinese restaurant and were immediately hit with the sound of angry mandarin and clashing pots. You grinned. The best Chinese restaurants were always loud and boisterous, family-owned little establishments with poor customer service. 

“By the way, Name, Yoongi, and Namjoon are meeting us here.” Jimin motioned to a table in the corner and you saw the aforementioned brothers sitting in the corner, wrapped up in a hushed conversation.

Jungkook interrupted them, loudly scraping his chair against the floor as he sat down. You followed him, sitting between Yoongi and Jungkook and pulling out a menu. You avoided Jimin's eyes as he sent you a little wink, your cheeks turning pink.

Jungkook frowned and leaned over. “What are you getting, Name,” he asked, casually throwing an arm around your chair. You didn't notice, and leaned over, happily rattling off your usual order.

You failed to notice the way his ears turned red at your close proximity. 

Namjoon sighed, shooting Yoongi a glance, which he ignored in favor of grabbing the menu and examining it.

Namjoon turned his eyes on Jimin, who avoided them, also grabbing a menu and staring at it a bit too thoroughly than necessary. Namjoons eyes narrowed, glancing at you.

You were happily chatting away with a pink Jungkook, seemingly unaware of his flushed state as you explained all your favorite dishes excitedly. He shook his head, sighing and you looked up at him, surprised. “Is something wrong, Namjoon?” you asked him, a worried glance making its way across your features. 

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond but Yoongi jumped in, interrupting him.

“Nothing's wrong, Hyung's just tired.” you nodded, turning back to your conversation and Namjoon sent Yoongi a strange look. He shrugged, turning back to his menu and Namjoon sighed. 

Your pleasant conversation with Jungkook was interrupted when the middle-aged waitress came over to order. You each ordered and she left shortly after, hardly sparing your group a glance. It reminded you of A-Jún aunties and you smiled, reminiscing. Asian aunties were a force to be reckoned with.

❀❀❀

“So name, Jin told me you play piano.” Yoongi pushed his black hair behind his ear and set the menu down, looking at you.

You flushed at his full attention, grinning.

“Oh yes, I've been playing for a while now. Is the grand piano yours?” you asked and Yoongi grinned at the way your face lit up in enthusiasm.

“Yes.” he said, “You can play it whenever.”

Your face beamed with happiness and you couldn't help the little squeal you let out, enveloping him in a small hug. He grinned, patting your back and avoiding Namjoons eyes as you babbled on, face bright with enthusiasm.

“Once a month I do a video call with my piano teacher, Abbie. She lives back in the states and I sometimes—”

He let you ramble on, watching you carefully. Your face was practically glowing, as you talked about your teacher and your lesions, and Yoongi admired the way you spoke so fondly. He could see how much you loved piano and he couldn’t help but admire your determination and love for it.

He could see why his brothers were so enamored with you. You turned your dazzling eyes directly on him. 

“Do you play as well? Jin told me you write songs. Do you write classical or…”

He grinned at you, “I'm trained in classical, but I rap a little. I have a Soundcloud as well, and I write some of—”

He was interrupted as the food arrived.

Yoongi shook his head, and ignored the ferocious glare Jungkook sent his way.

He cleared his thoughts of your bright smiles and dug into his food.

You had already ensnared his younger brothers, he thought to himself, he would let you ensnare him as well. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Your Smile is the Sunrise, It Warms my Heart

Chapter 2: Your Looks are Crime...

You felt a little nervous after you hung up with Emma, walking into the dining room and standing there awkwardly. The others were already seated, Seokjin at the head, and they looked up as you entered. Seokjin smiled, indicating your seat, and you sat down. Placed directly between Jin and Taehyung, you smiled hesitantly. “I hope I didn't make you wait.” 

Namjoon grinned, “You didn't, we're still waiting on Jungkook. I don't know what's taking him so long.”

You grimaced and startled as Jungkook himself appeared, walking hurriedly to the table and taking his seat. He looked up, and when he met your eyes, squeaked, his ears going red, and hurriedly looked down. 

You smiled at him hopefully. He seemed to be warming up to you. You all began to eat.

Namjoon directed his attention to you. “So Name, how're you settling in.”

You looked up at him, pulling your attention away from the delicious food. “Everything's going well. I love the room.”

Jin joined the conversation. “What's your plan for getting the rest of your stuff? Do you need any help?”

“I'm planning to go tomorrow.” you responded, “ I have a friend helping me but I could always use more hands.”

Jin nodded and was about to respond when a voice interrupted him. “I can help.”

You looked at Jungkook in shock. He looked up, meeting your eyes, and tugged at his hair. “I mean if you don't want my help-” “I'd love it, thanks” you interrupted him shooting him a grateful smile. He grinned shyly back and looked away, the tips of his ears bright red.

Namjoon and Jin shared a glance. “So Name.” Namjoon started, “I heard you go to the same university as Jungkook here.”

You grinned, “Yes! We share an English class, he always sits behind me.” you shot another grin Jungkook’s way. “He’s always so kind, I'm always forgetting things, pencils, you know. And he's always ready to lend me something. It's so sweet.” 

“Oh, it's nothing.” Jungkook seemed to be having trouble meeting your eyes. 

You shook your head. “No, I appreciate it,” you said, meeting his eyes, trying to convey your gratitude. Taehyung giggled beside you. “Noona,” he said, successfully diverting your attention. “Open wide.” you laughed, opening your mouth obligingly and he popped a pickled cucumber into your mouth. You turned back to the table, distracted as Jin asked you another question, and didn't notice the glare Jungkook shot at Taehyung.

Taehyung just smiled, grabbing your hand in his. “Noona,” he said, all innocent smiles. “You have to feed me too,” you ignored your blushing cheeks and smiled a little, obliging him. Taehyung was sweet, he was doing his best to make you feel comfortable in his own strange way and you appreciated it.

No matter how much it made you blush. Too busy wrapped up in your thoughts you missed the furious glare Jungkook sent Taehyung and Namjoon's worried glances. 

❀❀❀

“So Name,” Jin started, pulling his chair back and standing up, “Would you like a house tour?”

You nodded, “That sounds great!” you said, standing up. Jin nodded, “Tae and Jungkook can show you around. I would love to but I have to clean the kitchen.” you frowned. “I should help…” but Jin shook his head, interrupting you. “Go enjoy the Tour,” he said, ruffling your hair. You needed to blind yourself against your step brother's good looks. Taehyung jumped up, slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of the dining room and down the hallway. Glaring furiously behind your back, Jungkook hurried after you.

“All the bedrooms are on the Second floor. You've already been up there right?” you nodded. 

“On the first floor is the entrance hall, the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen.” Taehyung's hand lay heavily against your waist and you tried to ignore it.

“Out back we have a gym and a pool. The third floor is mostly offices and storage space. Not very interesting at all. So Noona,” he paused, looking down at you,

“What do you want to see.” 

His fingers were tracing distracting patterns along your side and it took you a moment to register his words. God, you needed to get laid. “The pool.” you breathed out, separating yourself gently from Taehyung's deadly hands.

In your haste to get away, you smacked into Jungkook, who automatically reached out to catch you, his muscular arms enveloping you.

He smelled heavenly, like sweat and musk and underneath it all, a faint floral scent. You didn't even have time to be flustered because Jungkook dropped you like a hot potato. You barely managed to grab Taehyung's shoulder, stopping yourself from crashing to the ground. With a jumbled, “Sorry Noona gotta go do something.” Jungkook spread off, practically running back upstairs. You stared after him, completely confused and a little hurt.

Taehyung's laugh brought you back to earth. You turned, watching him as he quickly swallowed his laugh and threw an arm around your shoulder.

“Well Noona, let's show you the pool,” he said, slinging an arm around your waist(again) and leading you along the hallway. “Taehyung,” you started, “Call me Tae”.

“Tae, is Jungkook mad at me for some reason?” he laughed. “Don't worry Noona, Kooks is not mad at you. He's just a little upset about something.”

He pushed open the large french door and led you onto a wooden railed patio.

The patio was large, wrapping around the back of the house. There was a picnic table, boxes of flowers, and a large hot tub, one of the fancy ones with jets and the like. And past the patio, surrounded by sandstone, was a large pool. It was huge, you thought, and so, so blue, the water clear and the pool lights sending shards of light piercing through the water.

On the other side, there was a little lodge and you pointed at it, looking at Tae. “That's the gym,” he said, leading you around the pool, and navigating past the pool chairs.

“Kookie probably uses it the most. The rest of us use it too but he's super into it.” Rich people were pretty great, you thought to yourself. A home gym, a pool, a concert piano. This was too good to be true. You kept waiting for the catch, expecting something horrible to happen. But so far, everything was perfect.

You had yet to meet the rest of your brothers, but you hoped you would get along. It had only ever been you and your dad, but you spent most of your home time by yourself. After you had become friends with Emma and A-Jún the loneliness had gotten better, but recently, with them both distracted with large projects and family reunions, you had felt that loneliness creeping back in.

But now you have a new family, new brothers. It didn't matter how handsome and touchy they were, you had to ignore it. They were completely off-limits. And anyway, they didn't want you that way, they were just being nice. With a sigh you turned away from the gorgeous pool and followed Taehyung back inside, closing the patio door behind you.

“Anything else you want to see, Noona?”

Tae was smiling at you and you relaxed, he was so kind. “I think I'll go upstairs and rest, maybe take a shower later.” you replied, “thanks for the Tour.”

“No problem Noona.” he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You stood frozen, as his soft lips pressed against your forehead, staying there for perhaps a minute too long before he pulled away, smirking. “Goodnight, Noona,” he said, turning and walking back toward the kitchen. “Goodnight Tae.” you managed, before you made your way back upstairs, closing your door behind you.

❀❀❀

Taehyung strolled into the kitchen, a light spring in his step. What an adorable step-sister he was blessed with. Namjoon and Jin were sitting at the empty kitchen table. They turned when he entered. He went to join them, pulling out a chair and plopping down. “Where’s Name?” 

“Finished the tour.” Taehyung grins, “She's upstairs, getting ready for her shower.”

Jin nodded, distracted. “She’s very kind, we're lucky to have her.”

Namjoon nodded, “yeah, I was a little nervous, I'm glad she's not a jerk.” 

Taehyung agreed with them. You were cheerful and kind and were trying your best to adjust to life in the house. You were pretty too. Tae grinned dreamily. He kind of wished you were not his sister. You certainly were very pretty…and you made the most adorable flushed faces…he wanted t—

“—Hyung! Taehyung!” Tae snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. His hyungs were staring at him. “Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out.”

Namjoon and Jin exchanged a loaded glance. “We wanted to know what you thought of our new sister,” Namjoon said, eyes unreadable.

“She's so sweet.” Taehyung sat up excitedly, “She's very kind. And pretty. And she makes good food.” the other boys nodded. Taehyung stood up. “Going for a shower.” was all he said. 

Jin sighed. “We have a small problem.” was all he said. He saw how both his younger brothers were already smitten with you, and honestly? He couldn't blame them. You were nice and pretty and made adorable flushed faces. You seemed kind of feisty too, but you were generous, offering to help him with dinner. It seemed like you were trying your best to get to know them and to settle into the house. 

But he had self-control. You were his new Step sister for god's sake. This was real life! Not a porn shoot. 

It seemed like Namjoon and he agreed. Unlike their little brothers, they could control their feelings.

Namjoon sighed. “I don't think Tae even realizes how smitten he is, he just met her for god's sake and he's already all over her!”

Jin felt like smashing his head against a wall. “You saw the angry glances Jungkook was sending his way!” Namjoon sighed, “I'm sure he’ll get his feelings under control soon, we just have to be careful.”

Jin nodded, “no matter what.” he said, “We are not allowed to catch feelings.” They sealed their vow and as Jin opened a bottle of wine. He had a feeling these next few years were going to be a hell of a ride.

❀❀❀

It was late when you finally decided to take a shower. You slipped on a robe, gathered up your pajamas, shampoo, and toiletries, and crept out of your bedroom and down the hall. The bathroom had a nice little sign on it, proclaiming it the bathroom and you pushed open the door, stepped inside, and dropped your stuff on the countertop. You walked to the shower, all glass, and turned it on, wincing as the cold water hit your arm. 

You dropped your bathrobe, letting the water heat up, and stepped under the hot stream of water, closing your eyes. 

You sighed, letting the warm water run down your body. You could feel the stress of your day melting out of you, rolling down your body with the water and washing down the drain. You felt refreshed already.

What a long day it had been.

You'd met some of your brothers.

Seokjin was very kind and welcoming and Namjoon seemed quite mature, you felt as if you could go to those two if you never had any problems.

Taehyung was…you blushed, the shower suddenly a little warm. You knew he didn't mean anything by it, but he was so touchy!

Not that you minded, a little voice in the back of your mind whispered. You shoved it down. 

Jungkook was a different story. He was probably just adjusting to having a new sister, but just in case you decided you would talk to him tomorrow when you went to pick up your stuff. 

But the biggest problem was you. When did you get so thirsty? You were practically drooling over them. That on its own wouldn't be so bad, but they were your new step-brothers. You sighed, head falling against the wall.

You really needed to get laid. 

❀❀❀

The next day you were awoken abruptly by the sun, shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You groaned, realizing you had forgotten to close the curtains last night, and stubbornly closed your eyes. Alas, it was too late, you were already awake.

You sighed, reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing your phone, glancing at the screen. 10:09. Not too bad. You scrolled down your notifications. Some emails, spam calls, and the like.

Your eyes caught on a missed call. 8:30, A-Jún. Oops, better call him back. 

You opened your phone, scrolling through the favorites section. You didn't have many, your dad, A-Jún and Emma were the only ones. Maybe now that you had more brothers, you would have more favorite callers. You smiled to yourself, pressing the call button.

It rang twice before he picked up with a “Hey, Darlin”

You smiled at the familiar greeting.

“Miss you A-Jún, you called earlier?”

You could hear a commotion through the phone line as he responded.

“Yeah so…turns out I won't be able to help you with your stuff today. I'm sorry darlin, our flight is delayed. We won't arrive until Tuesday.” you could hear the frustration in his voice. 

“Oh don't worry,” you said, your tone reassuring.

“One of my new brothers volunteered to help.” 

He sighed in relief, “that's good.”

“Let me know when you get back, we can hang out.”

He murmured his assent, distracted and you could hear what sounded like a loud argument in the back. “Gotta call you back hun, sounds like a fight is gonna start.” you laughed, and with a murmured “love ya,” he hung up. 

A delay. You could feel him on that one.

Last Christmas you tried to fly back to the U.S. to see your family and your flight ended up being delayed six hours. It had been absolute torture. 

It sounded like he was entertained at least.

You smiled and crawled out of bed, your feet tiptoeing on the cold floor, and walked to your overnight bag, pulling out a skirt and some accessories, and stumbled your way to the bathroom, grabbing your makeup bag on your way out. 

As soon as you got to the bathroom you placed your stuff on the counter and splashed your face with cold water. Well, you are awake now. You pulled on the green skirt and white button-up shirt combo, threw on some fishnets and started on your makeup. After doing your normal makeup routine and your hair, you put a pair of green earrings on and marched downstairs, dropping your stuff in your room and picking up a purse and some necessities. 

The kitchen was full of bustling bodies, Seokjin stood at the stove managing four different pots and pans. 

Namjoon and Taehyung were seated at the table with someone you didn't recognize and Jungkook was pouring everyone orange juice. Another boy you didn't know was seated at the opposite end, working on a computer. 

You walked over to Seokjin, smiling and offering your help but he waved you away. “You don't have to, go sit down with the others.” 

Taehyung looked up, his sleepy eyes meeting yours and he waved you over.

“Hyungs, this is Name, our new stepsister. Name, this is Yoongi.” he indicated a sleepy-looking boy next to him.

He blinked at you, nodding and you couldn't help but notice he reminded you of a black cat.

“And this is Jimin.” he indicated to the boy on the computer. Jimin jumped up and walked around the table. “Hey pretty Noona,” he said, sending you a flirty wink. You simply laughed, your mind made up not to let them fluster you. In the back of your mind, you wondered how they knew how old you were, but you shoved it aside as Jimin enveloped you in a hug. Another touchy one. Well, you could handle this.

You hugged him back briefly then stepped back. “It's nice to meet you, Jimin.” “Call me Oppa.” he pouted “Jimin-Oppa”. You sighed. Both boys were handsome, again. But it was a pretty morning, the sun shining, and you were able to ignore their attractive faces and focus on breakfast.

The small talk was light, both Taehyung and Yoongi were still half asleep and Jimin seemed to be working.

Jungkook was doing his best to avoid your eyes, but he still spoke to you and answered your questions. Seokjin and Namjoon were as pleasant as usual, although a bit reserved. You brushed it aside.

“Jungkook.” you asked, “still up for helping me with boxes this morning.”

“Of course Noona.” he nodded shyly. “Thanks.” you spoke, your tone grateful, “Unfortunately there's going to be more work for us. My friend who was supposed to help, his flight got delayed.”

Seokjin joined the conversation, curious. “Delayed? Where's he coming from.” 

You poured yourself more orange juice. “Oh, he had a family reunion, back in his hometown. He didn't want to go, so his brother dragged him.” you laughed lightly. “A-Jún never wants to go to those, he usually drags me along too.”

“A-Jún? Is he Chinese?” Taehyung interjected.

“Yeah, he was born in Handan. I've known him since high school. Seokjin, these pancakes are amazing.”

Seokjin smiled at you, “I'm glad you like them, Name. Do you need any more help with the boxes?”

Jimin looked up, “Yeah Noona, I can help!” he winked at you again.

You grinned around your breakfast, giving him a thumbs up. “That would be helpful, thanks. We're going to leave around 11 if that's ok.” He nodded and went back to his computer, munching on a sausage.

Your phone rang, the sound of ‘Hey Sexy Lady’ disturbing the peace and you yanked it out of your purse, sending Seokjin a questioning look, he nodded, waving at you to take it. 

You smiled as ‘#1 whore’  flashed up on the screen. 

You answered and that familiar voice greeted you. 

“Hey, Darlin, change of plans.”

“What's up?” you responded.

You heard him sigh over the phone. “Sorry Darlin, I won't be able to get back until the 17th. Da-ge is dragging me around and the relatives wanna introduce me to girls now.” You laughed.

“So that's why you always drag me along with you when we see your relatives! Were you using me as a prospective wife blocker?” 

“Well…you're the closest thing I have…” You could hear his teasing tone over the phone and you laughed. 

“Can't talk long, I'm at the breakfast table.”

He switched to mandarin. “Have you met your new brothers?”

“Yeah, they're nice.”

“Introduce us some time, will you?” you could hear a slight growl of protectiveness and you shivered. 

“Yeah, of course. You can just come over to the new house when you get back. It's huge by the way.”

You could hear shouting in the back. “Gotta go, Darlin, attack of the angry aunties.”

You laughed, “Don't die. I'll miss you~” you teased, and with a “Love ya”. You hung up.

“Something wrong, Noona?” you looked at Taehyung. “Oh it's nothing, Tae, A-Jún gonna be delayed for a few more days, he was attacked by angry aunties trying to set him up with a wife.”

Taehyung giggled, and Jungkook interrupted you two. “It's almost time to go Noona.”

You swore, looking at the time. 10:48. You shot Jungkook a grateful smile, “Meet you guys at the door.” you hurriedly cleaned your plate and put it in the dishwasher, rushing out of the kitchen.

❀❀❀

As soon as you had left Seokjin turned to his brothers. Taehyung was playing with his food, his face a little downcast. “Noona’s so impressive.” he said, staring after you. “She knows three languages.”

Seokjin sighed. Jungkook was staring after you as well, “that  A-Jún person, her ‘friend’.” Seokjin winced at the mocking way Taehyung said the word friend, “she said, ‘love ya’.” Jungkook winced, “do you think—” he started, his words drifting off into nothing. Jimin stood up. “Kookie, let's go, get your stuff.”

"Going to work out." Taehyung dumped his dishes in the sink and left.

Seokjin watched his younger brothers leave, already feeling exhausted. He turned to Yoongi, who was downing an entire cup of coffee. “What did you think of Name?” he asked, already feeling a little apprehensive. “She seems nice,” Yoongi replied and Seokjin sighed in relief. Yoongi sent him a weird look. 

Namjoon took pity on him and explained, stirring his cup of coffee. “Taehyung is already completely enamored with her.” Yoongi just stared at him, confused. “Not in a friendly, new sister way. In a ‘please date me’ way.” Yoongi grimaced downing another cup of coffee. 

Seokjin ground. “We think Jungkook had a crush on her before. They share a class in university.” 

“Namjoon and I are on team, ‘Don't fall for the pretty step-sister’. I think you know better than to fall for her, right?”

Yoongi nodded his assent, placed his coffee cup in the sink, and left the kitchen. 

Seokjin felt like the whole conversion had aged him about twenty years. 

Sure you were pretty and nice and offered to help him with meals. But he was sure he could stop himself from falling for his new stepsister.

He wouldn't fall for you.

He couldn't allow himself to. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Good God Let Me Give You My Life

Chapter 3: And Soon It Will Be Spring

The morning light crept through the Gauzy curtains surrounding your bed, creeping beneath your eyelids and pulling you gently from your fitful sleep. You opened your eyes, mind deliciously blank, and sat up, covers falling and polling gently around your naked waist. You looked down, startled, and frowned as last night's memories poured back into your brain, the shock and fear and anger and…arousal. You must have fallen asleep in Hobi’s arms last night and he must have kindly put you to bed. 

You shuddered as the memories overwhelmed you. You could still remember the man's cold hands around your neck, wringing your life's essence out of you. You felt yourself shiver in the morning air, you didn't quite feel safe.

You crawled out of bed, grabbed your morning robes, and sat before your small table, complacent. 

‘I should think of a way to thank Hobi,’ you thought to yourself as your maids arrived, dressing you in your casual day attire. A soft knocking caught your attention. 

“Name.” It was Taehyung, looking unfairly put together for the early hour. You motioned for him to sit before you. “How can I help you?”

He eyes you, as you fiddled with the hem of your embroidered robes, still a little drowsy. An awkward silence permeates the space until he opens his mouth. 

“Are you ok?”

That simple question breaks you. The memories overwhelm you once again, flashes of blood and screams of the dying ringing through your ears and you bite back your tears. Tae seems to notice, even as you try to hide your distress. He reaches across the table, laying his big hand across your own, slowing your trembling fingers.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

He speaks again, his tone cautious.

“You have to make an appearance at the official banquet tomorrow night.” This shocks you out of your state, the news trickling down your back like a cold stream. 

Ei Rei exclaims excitedly, grabbing her purse and the other maids, and with a hurried goodbye, they're gone. Probably off to buy clothes for said banquet. 

You stand up hastily, brushing your skirt into place and exiting the comfort of your chambers. Tae follows you, confused. “Let's go to the library. On the way, please inform me about this banquet.” 

You wind your way through the grand halls of the palace as he speaks. “This banquet is being proposed as a formal welcome for the new Empress, but they're using it as a test.” he hesitated, trying to judge your mood. Truthfully, you were more apprehensive than surprised. After what had transpired last night, you had surmised you had quite a few enemies in the palace. Taehyung opened the garden gate for you, ushering you inside as he continued. “They want to know if they can control you, or if they can eliminate you.” 

You shudder as you make your way through the garden, Taehyung following behind you. 

“I see,” you replied, “And who are ‘They’?”

Taehyung frowns, pulling you to a stop. His scent suddenly grows nearer and then his lips are so close to your face, whispering in your ear. “Someone's watching,”

His words register in your brain and you nod, pulling away and marching towards the large library doors. 

The librarian is busy today, but he still drops everything as soon as he sees you, lowering himself into a bow. 

“Your Majesty the Empress!” He exclaims, “How can I help you today?” 

You wave at him, sending him a smile and dismissing him back to his work. He sends you a sweet smile, turning back to the piles of papers scattered across his desk. He reminded you of a small mouse, his eyes big and doe-like, brown hair pulled into a long messy braid. He was cute, with a sweet smile and you felt the urge to protect him.

You survey the large mostly empty room, your eyes catching on the woman, clothes in expensive-looking silks, standing by the librarian's desk.

She turned to you, as if she knew you were looking, and made her way over. You felt Tae tense behind you as the air was filled with a cloyingly sweet smell of perfume. 

She smiled at you, her pretty mouth contorting into a sweet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

“Lady Name,” she said, sinking into a half bow. Taehyung stepped in front of you, his eyes full of loathing.

“You will address her by her title, ‘Her Majesty the Empress’ and will kowtow before her.” the unknown woman smiled. “She has yet to become the Empress, so I will address her by her proper title.” she smiled at you sweetly, her teeth on display. You kept your eyes above her head. “And who are you?” you asked, making sure to keep that haughty tone about your voice.

She tensed, her face changing for a second before that sweet smile slipped back on her face. 

“I am the first daughter of Official Kim, Lady Kim Jooha.” 

You spared her a nod of your head, deciding not to give her any ammunition.

“I see, and what are you doing here today?”

She smiled that fake smile again, and gestured to the books she was carrying. “I was just returning these books. I was doing some studying on some important political topics. You know them of course, ‘The Day the Heavens Fell’ and of course, ‘The Burning Village’. What Empress wouldn't know such topics?”

You nod at her dismissively, giving her a small wave, and filing that information away for later. 

 “It was lovely to meet you.” was all you said, giving her a small head nod and making your way towards your destination, disappearing among the bookstands. You heard the door close, and the librarian's relieved sigh. It seemed she had left.

You felt Tae grab your arm, pulling you into a more secluded second of the library, a small nook with a reading table surrounded by tall bookshelves. He leaned down, whispering in your ear, his breath caressing your ear. You shivered a little. 

“You need to watch out for her.” he said, “She was aiming for the position of Empress before you were suggested.” 

You sat down, curious. “Tell me more,” you said, arranging yourself on the cushions by the table as he sat beside you. 

“Lady Kim is the daughter of the off Official Kim, you met him earlier.” He must be referring to the Pompous official that had been present on the day the marriage was finalized. 

“She acts sweet and kind, but everyone knows she has a horrible personality.” 

You can hear the hatred in Taehyung's voice, see the way his fists clench against the fine silk of his robes. You reach over, placing a soothing hand on his own, just like he had done for you. “You seem to dislike her,” you comment, stroking his fingers gently. He sighs, the trembling in his hands slowing. 

“I don't like her.” is all he says, gripping your hand before he lets go and turns to the shelves.

“So what were you looking for, name?” He asks you, fingers skimming over the spines of the books halfheartedly. 

You open your mouth hesitantly, “I was looking for some information about some events. The ones she mentioned earlier. ‘The Day the Heavens Fell’, and ‘The Burning Village’.”

He nods, pulling select files out of the shelf and handing them to you. 

“Take a look at these first, I'm going to grab some more classified information.” and with that, he disappears back into the bookshelves. 

You settle down and open the first file, neatly labeled D-Day 01. Several sheets of paper lie inside the file, most of them severely damaged, covered in stains and water damage. The edges of the first document are burned beyond recognition but you can still make out some passages. 

*note from the head of Filling Han Jisung, ‘Please be careful when handling these documents, they fall apart easily.’

*Note from Yang Jeongin, head librarian of the royal library, ‘this document is one of the only surviving pages of The Old King’s diary, pulled from the wreckage of the palace after his death. The ‘facts’ stated in this diary are not necessarily true.’

Excerpt from The Old King’s personal diary, date unknown.

——the Young Masters wouldn't rebel————make sure to put an end to the————cultist knew me,————knew they would respond——Asmodeus leader of the malevolent ones communicated s——communicating with th em —— -unsuccessful , we were interrupted————unknown reason—— won't let those —take my kingdom from me—

The page was so badly destroyed the words were hard to make out. You sighed, opening another file. Maybe this one would be easier to understand. 

It seems to be an autopsy report of some kind and as you turn the pages you notice the amount of redacted text, it's so redacted you can't decipher enough to understand so you move on to the third and final document. 

This last document is far more gruesome, and a note from the head librarian warns you of this.

*Note from Head Librarian Yang Jeongin, please be warned, this document contains multiple triggering topics. Please be careful before proceeding.

*Note from Head of Filling Han Jisung, please note this document is missing a few pages. Remember to file changes with the librarian in charge

‘The following is a list of names, ordered by importance and date of death.’

You scan the list, face turning grimmer and grimmer. 

“Official Chen, sentenced to death for corruption. Official Jeon, cause of death unknown. Official Kim, burned to death—”

…and on and on. You scanned the top of the document again, the information finally sinking in. This was a full and comprehensive list of all the people The Old King had murdered. Whether by ‘rightful’ causes or just plain murder, he had caused the death of so many innocent human beings. You felt yourself tearing up but forced yourself to continue, pouring over the huge list of names. 

“Consort Kim, sentenced to hanging. Consort Jung, died during childbirth*. Consort Min, assassinated, Consort Han—”

*her second child

You pause, confused. Something about those names seemed familiar.

“Kim, Jung, Min—” You mused, turning the names over and over in your head. “Kim, Jung, Min…Oh!”

You dropped the list, as the memories poured back. You suddenly felt very stupid. “Kim Taehyung, Jung Hoesok, and Min Yoongi,” you murmured to yourself, slamming your head against the table. 

You felt tears sting your eyes for the second time today as the realization sank in. The Old King had executed each one of his Consorts, including the prince's mothers. Every single one. 

Your hands trembling, you replace the papers in the folder, closing it gingerly and setting it down on the reading table. 

The second file is labeled with a string of numbers and letters, dates, and other information, it's all very indecipherable. 

This folder only has one document, a neatly organized set of interviews, labeled Witness Accounts. The familiar neat handwriting of the Head of Filling greets you again as you begin to read. 

*Note from the head of Filling Han Jisung, A team was sent to investigate the strange occurrence in XXXX Village in the third month, XX 1XXX.

Upon finding the entire village burned to the ground and the population of adults above the age of 26 deceased, the children were nowhere to be found. The children have since been tracked down and interviewed.

Tracked down certainly sounded ominous, you thought as you continued reading. You remembered your mother talking about the event known as “The Burning Village”. You had just turned 18, and your mother had pulled you aside, her face grim. 

“Do you remember the village we used to visit? The one with the cherry trees.”

You remembered it well, you had visited in the summer, and your parents had a meeting with the village head years ago. You remembered playing with the village children in the large fruit orchards and having an immensely enjoyable time. You also remembered how your parents had left the village early. How they had stormed out really, you father beyond furious. They had never told you why.

You told her as much, and she simply smiled. “Unfortunately, the village has burnt to the ground.”

You remember the fear in her voice, but strangely enough, also triumph.

Most of the witness accounts are stuff you already know, but some sections give you pause. 

Hwang Hyun Jin, former resident of ‘XXXX’ village

“I lived next to the Village head, and I was close friends with their son. He was a quiet boy, and I always noticed the bruises littering his arms and legs. I remember asking my mother why he was hurting, why his parents hurt him. She told me simply, ‘You don't know what you’re talking about.’ 

I was eighteen years old when the village burned. My parents had forbidden me from leaving the house, but I disobeyed them. I had a sweetheart in the village over and would often go to visit her, playing in the fields for hours. It was twilight when I got back, and I kissed my lover goodbye outside the village gates. 

I stepped into the village and made my way back to my house. My mother was inside, berating my younger sister for spilling her rice pudding on the floor. Her words were harsh as usual, ‘You stupid clumsy girl, how will you ever get a husband when you are so lazy and clumsy.’ My sister was only seven.

Just about then, the village head's house burst into flames, burning in an instant. I remember thinking of the boy, wondering if he was ok. I headed towards the house, and strangely enough, the flames didn’t burn. The gate rebonded me, a harsh pink glow lining the edges, it burned. A thought was shoved into my head, “Leave this place.”

I quickly returned to my own house, grabbed my younger sister, and left. My mother chased after me but was quickly caught up in the flames. She and my father burned to death. As we crossed the village gate and escaped into the woods an inhuman screech echoed behind me. I turned to look and the last thing I saw as my sister and I left the village was the pink flames flickering, and turning a calming lavender purple…

‘Do you Remember the boy next door's name?’

“Strangely enough, I cannot seem to remember…”

You knew Hyunjin, you remembered vividly meeting him in the village that day.

You blushed at the memory, he was the most handsome boy in the village, and you remembered telling your mother you wanted to marry him when you grew up. The strangest thing about his testimony, however, was the mention of the village head’s son. You vaguely remembered hazy images of pretty brown eyes and long straight black hair, but for some reason, your memories were strangely hazy. 

Your eyes scanned the document, catching on the flames. “Changed color, from pink to lavender…”

Your voice trailed off. Something was niggling at the back of your brain, a vague idea forming in your head that you couldn't quite reach. If you just concentrated you could…

“I'm sorry your majesty, I couldn't find any documents you might need.”

Taehyung interrupted, plopping down beside you on the cushions. The theory was gone and you were shocked from your deep reverie. You shut the file, placing it down on the table with the D-Day files. 

“It's alright.” you sighed, picking up the two files and making your way out into the lobby, “We should head back.”

The librarian was at his desk when you exited and you smiled at him, making your way over. His desk is cluttered, stacks of papers littered across the table, and his inkstone buried under more papers. His hair is shoved haphazardly behind his eyes, his pretty brown eyes jumping up to meet yours shyly. A familiar name is engraved on a small nameplate half buried under more papers:

“Han Jisung, Head of Filling and Deputy Head of Royal Library.”

‘So he’s the one leaving the notes on some of these documents.’ you muse to yourself, sending him a smile. He returns it shyly. 

“How can I help you, your Majesty?” he asks you, setting his brush back in its holder and chastity trying to make his workspace more presentable. You smile, he's adorable. “I'd like to borrow these two files, how should I go about doing that?” 

He digs around his desk, pulling out a slightly crumpled sheet. “Please sign your name here,” he says pointing to a space, “And please list the files you have borrowed, right here.” 

He hands you the paper and smiles, “You can keep them for a month or so, and then please return them or check them out again.”

You do as he instructed, handing back the paper and sending him another smile. His cheeks flush and he looks away, turning back to his cluttered desk. You grin again, playing with the edges of your fine embroidered robes, his reactions are so cute. You feel the urge to tease him more. Bending over the desk, you speak again, your voice sweet. 

“Jisung? Can I call you Jisung.” he lets out a startled little squeak, nodding hesitantly his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, “I was wondering if you could place a request for me?” he nods again and you continue, “Could you let me know when Lady Kim returns…” you glance down at the list on the table, “Stay Gold, I'd appreciate that.” 

He nods, pulling himself together. “Oh course your majesty, I'll send you a note when she returns it.”

You smile, waving at him as you make your exit, “Thanks Jisung, and you can just call me Name.”

The library doors close behind you and you make your way back through the garden and to your chambers. 

♜♜♜

It was late by the time you made it back to your room. The maids had set up a late dinner banquet and the scent of spices perfumed the air. Taehyung joined you for dinner and interestingly enough, so did Jimin. Transforming into his human form, still wearing the strange mask, he paced around the room, his light feet making no noise on the paneled floor. 

He waited for the two of you to wrap up your meal, then presented you with the book of protection spells your sister gave you. You took it, gingerly and frowned at him, confused.

“Protection spells, you'll need them.”

That was all he said. His voice was uncharacteristically short, almost harsh without his usual flirtatious tone. The closing of your bedroom door echoed in the space as the last of the maids backed out with the remaining dishes, you turned to him. “Is something wrong?” you questioned, folding your legs neatly underneath you and placing the book on the floor. Taehyung ignored both of you, peacefully eating the last of his food. 

“It's nothing Mistress, nothing at all…”

His replies, his voice drifting off a little at the end, and you frown, not used to this strange behavior. You turn to him, opening your mouth to protest, but he interrupts you. “Don't you have any questions for me Mistress?” 

You decide to give him the obvious deflect and turn to your bookshelf, taking out the Phantom Guidebook. You place it gently on the table and crack open the cover, pointing to the strange lettering lining the pages. “Can you translate this for me?” He nods, his hands caressing yours as he takes the book from the table and closes it. He mutters some words and it disappears from his hand, probably off the dreamland. You stare after it curiously, before turning fully away from the table and facing him.

“Do you gather your power from dreams?”

And at that, he's back to his smirky confident self, he leans down, plopping himself next to you, and transforms into his panther form, laying his head in your lap. “Not quite.” is all he says. 

You poke his head, silently asking him to elaborate.

When he doesn't, you just sigh and decide on another question. “How old are you?”

He freezes, tensing in your lap as he answers cautiously. “I was nineteen when I died.” 

You resume your stroking, playing with the soft fur around his ears. The rumbling of a purr rocks through you, and you smile, “You're my age then.”

He purrs louder, settling into your lap gently and you find yourself gently lulled to sleep. The deep rumbles are somehow soothing, and soon your eyes drift closed, and your head falls back as your consciousness fades.

You open your eyes to a familiar scene. In the hazy scene of your bedroom, Jimin perched gingerly on your bed. He makes his way over to you slowly, his pace much more measured than before. 

“We're going to try something different, Mistress,” he says as he reaches you, gently placing two fingers on your forehead. He speaks one word, and suddenly you're whisked away. His voice echoes in your ears as you fall through your very own memories.

“Sweet Dreams, Mistress.”

♜♜♜

Park Jimin watched you as your expression went blank, your mind forgetting everything as you slipped into dreamland. He had to know more about you and the easiest way for a Phantom such as himself was to observe your dreams.

He watched carefully, floating just above the cloudline as your first dream materialized. Jimin froze, suddenly paralyzed with fear as he saw the setting of your first dream. Those horribly familiar buildings materialized the fruit orchards and the cherry blossoms. He knew it all too well. But how did you know it? Panicked, he flew down, racing towards you at the speed of light and taping your forehead, shooting you into a different dream. 

You were sitting at a round table, a picturesque lake surrounded you, lily pads delicately interspersed throughout, the sun bouncing off the surface sending streams of emerald green light shooting across the pavilion. You sat in the middle, a tea set for two laid out across the round tea table before you.

A man sat across from you.

Jimin turned himself invisible, zooming closer to look at his face. The familiar face of the librarian greeted his eyes.

Jisoo, or Jiseo, or something.

He frowned. Why did you even like him so much, he wasn't that cute. He didn't get your obsession with the man. He couldn't believe his ears when he heard you this afternoon. Flirting with that shy little librarian. His mistress. He bristled, staring gloomily out at the scene. 

You were talking now, “ Jisung, this place is so beautiful! Thank you so much for inviting me.”

The librarian nodded back, flushing as a smile curved across his face. “Of course your majesty, I have the books you requested.” He passed three booklets across the table, and you reached out to receive them, taking them gently from his hands and placing them beside you on the table. You reached across the table and picked up the delicate teapot, offering him a cup. Jimin glared, it wasn't like he was jealous or anything, this man was just suspicious, obviously. 

 He takes the cup shyly. “Actually, your Majesty.” he started shyly. You smiled at him, “Just call me Name.” 

“Name, I called you here because I have something to ask you.” you finished pouring the tea, placing the teapot on the table, and serving him a matcha cake as you replied. “Of course, Jisung. How can I help you?”

He fiddles with the corner of his sleeve nervously, avoiding your eyes. “I-I um, I wanted to become your consort!”

Jimin almost falls out of the sky and crashes into the picturesque lake below. How dare he! The nerve of that man. He yanks himself out of his angry ramblings as you respond.

“You want to be my first Consort?” The man nods, all shy and Jimin watches in dismay as the table magically clears. He feels his heat sink as he predicts where this scene is going to end. 

You reach across the table, taking the man's hand gently. “From now on,” you say, squeezing it gently as he smiles at you. “You're my first Consort.”

Jisung reached across the table and Jimin watched, outraged as his hand caressed your face, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. You lean in, and Jimin watches, helpless to stop, as your lips near his.

Closer, closer, then closer still—

♜♜♜

Someone is shaking you, hard. You can hear your name being shouted as well. You try to resist, enjoying that lovely dream but you're shaken from your sleep. You open your eyes, reluctant, and eye the room. It's still dark, the moonlight leaking in from the cracks in the curtains. Hobi is shaking you, his voice urgent as he calls your name. 

“Hobi? What's going on?”

He grabs you roughly, his large hand gripping your thighs as he whisks you from the comfort of your bed. His steps are quick as he runs to the closet, setting you down and stepping in himself. The room is enveloped in darkness as he closes the door. You look up, questioning but he shushes you, putting a hand over your mouth. 

It's then that's when you hear footsteps. Heavy thudding footsteps. Male footsteps. You hear grunts and hushed voices and if you strain your ears just enough you can hear them.

“Hurry, we need to find something…”

“Boss, she just moved in. Let's head back and return later.”

“You know the Mistress won't like that.”

You’re pressed against Hobi, held tight to his chest, your face squished against him. He smells faintly of spices and a heady musky scent that makes your groin pulse with heat. You feel yourself melt into his embrace, clutching his white sleep robes in your hand. Faintly, you hear the men start to leave. The footsteps recede and the window slams shut.

Then everything is silent.

You can hear someone's heartbeat loudly in the silence of the small closet. Is it Hobi’s or your own, you can't tell. The closet is small and although there isn't a reason to hide anymore, neither of you make a move to leave. It's comforting in a way, having his body so close to your own.

Someone bangs on the closet door. A sulky voice interrupts the pleasant atmosphere “Mistress, their gone.”

You jump out of Hobi’s arms, opening the closet and peering gingerly around your room. Nothing has been disturbed so you exit the closet, Hobi close behind you making your way to your bed. 

You plop down on the soft surface, gazing at the two men standing before you. 

Hobi is still clothed in what looks like his sleepwear, plain white robes hanging dangerously off his lithe frame. Jimin is still in his normal clothes, mask still glued into place. He's holding the Phantom Guidebook in his hand, and he flips through the pages for a minute before he stops, holding the book out to you.

“This is the Protection spell you want.” He says, fingers tracing the spell gingerly. You shoot him a confused look. “Don't you need more power for that one?” He nods, turning to Hobi. Reaching out, he grabs his head, fingers coming into contact with his temple. Hobi falls to the floor, snoring. Jimin flicks his hand and suddenly, his body is draped across your bed, his face smashed into your pillow. You can't help but giggle a little. 

Jimin reaches out again, gently placing two fingers against your temple. “You're going to visit his dreamscape now, Mistress,” he says and you feel the world start to fade. The last thing you hear is his parting words.

“I'll be there Mistress, just follow my instructions. And sweet dreams.”

♜♜♜

You open your eyes to a familiar scene. The night you were attacked. Jimin’s laugh echoes in your head as you climb into the waiting bathwater, his voice is unusually echoey as he gives you your first instruction. “Just do exactly what you did that night.”

It's all the same. The man grabs your neck in the bath, Hobi throws you on the bed, you close your eyes, they fight and then it's all over. The men are dead and gone and Hobi’s holding you as you cry. Jimin’s voice echoes in your head then, finally giving you your next instruction. 

“Pull yourself onto his lap.” 

♜♜♜

Your crying, big fat tears that roll down your face and plop onto his collar, dampening the delicate white fabric.

Hoesok feels like a degenerate. Here you are, obviously distressed and crying your eyes out and all he can think about is the fact that you're naked and so close to him. 

And now you're crawling onto his lap. He should stop you, he should gently push you away and leave the room, leave this garden of untouchable pleasures far behind but he can't quite bring himself to.

You move again, now your hands are on his chest and you're situated too close to his length for comfort and then he feels himself falling, falling until his back makes contact with the soft comforter of your bed. 

You perch atop him, like an avenging angel, descended from the Heavens to exact her punishment on his foolish mortal self. 

He truly had not decided if this was his punishment yet. But then you began to move, rocking back and forth and he gripped your hips tightly, pleasure alight in every nerve of his body. He managed to stutter out a protest, “W-wait, your Majesty—” but then you start moving faster and he can't stand it anymore.

He grabs your waist, flipping your positions so you're under him, and at least this way he has more control. But as he gazes upon you, lying beneath him, not an inch of clothing on your perfect body, he realized what a mistake that was.

He's tempted, so tempted to just lean down a few inches and seal his mouth onto yours, to finally have a taste of the sweet ruby color of your lips. It's oh so tempting to lean down and kiss your delicate neck, to make his way down your abdomen and taste the sweet nectar that lays beyond it. But he can't, even if this is a dream. So he just gazes at you with a heavy sigh.

To preserve what is left of your dignity he does his best to keep his eyes above your collarbone but without his prompting they start to trail down, catching on the peaks of your nipples, and he hastily draws them up to your face. You reach up, hand gently caressing his face and he almost cries at how tender it is. You're so kind, even when he's one small string away from snapping and taking you ruthlessly into the bed and it makes something twinge in his chest.

Your ruby lips part, as you question him, your voice soft. “Is something wrong?” 

He shakes his head, eyes too busy taking in the way your lips move, caressing the syllables of his name delicately.

Oh how he longs to kiss those lips, feel their softness against his own. This is a dream, he thinks, desperately. So he can take a little right? Just one taste, hell even compromise and kiss that sweet neck of yours. You seem to sense what he's thinking and close your eyes, tilting your head to bare your neck.

Just one, he promises himself, just one. And so he lowers his head, his lips finally coming in contact with the sweet skin below your jaw. He presses his after kiss into your skin, teeth nipping the delicate skin. Your mouth opens, sweet moans leaving those ruby lips and he has to rip himself away before he does something drastic. He eyes your neck, noting with pride the small scattering of hickeys trailing down to your collarbone.

He did that. Him.

His vision swims and then you're gone, and he's opening his eyes to the gauzy curtains surrounding your bed. 

♜♜♜

When you open your eyes, your mind feels deliciously blank. You frown, confused, and look around. Hobi is beside you, sitting on the edge of the bed avoiding your eyes. Jimin has finished drawing the Protection circle and is sitting in the middle, drawing the finishing touches. You turn to him, a little dazed and he responds for you. “You can't remember anything.”

You nod, confused. Hobi lets out a relieved sigh beside you and you turn, eyeing his rumpled state. His hair is tossed and his clothes are loose, one loose gust of wind away from revealing all to the world. He squirms under your gaze, pulling your blankets over his waist. He shoots you a distracted grin and avoids your eyes.

Jimin interrupts again, “You won't remember anything when you cross into someone else's dreamland. It's one of the conditions.” He steps out of the Protection circle and makes his way towards you dusting his hands off as he goes. “The Protection circle is done, it just needs to be activated. I have enough power for that anyway.” he waves at Hobi, and the two of them glare at each other before Hobi sighs and jumps off your bed making his way to the door before he turns to you.

“See you tomorrow Name,”. He sends you one last smile and small wave before the door closes behind him and you fall back onto the covers, your eyelids drooping. You hear Jimin murmuring a spell in the background but you're much too tired to even open your eyes, slowly drifting into dreamland, you feel a gentle hand on your forehead and Jimin speaks one last time as you drift off. 

"Sweet Dreams, Mistress."

[helplesslyblue77]

Your Smile is the Sunrise, It Warms my Heart

Chapter 1: How it Began...

“WHAT?”

The shrill shriek pierced the air and you winced, yanking the phone away from your ear. Emma really was so loud.

“Emma!” you giggled “not so loud! You're gonna bust my eardrums”.

‘Sorry” she whispered, not sounding sorry at all, “I just can't believe you didn't tell me! This is big news.” you could hear her pouting over the phone.

“How dArE you forget to tell your BEST FRIEND…” she paused for dramatic effect. “That your dad is getting remarried and you're moving in with your seven brothers!!” 

You sighed, kitten heels clicking on the sidewalk. “I know, I'm sorry Emma, it's just big news and I kind of forgot to tell you.”

You heard her indignant ‘Humph’ across the phone line. “Fine.” she huffed, “But after you meet them you better tell me all about it.” you smiled “Yes, Emma.” you groaned, stopping as you reached your destination.

“I'm here, I gotta go.” Emma voiced her goodbyes and you hung up, turning to the large modern mansion in front of you. 

Truth be told you could really use her around for moral support you thought to yourself, clutching your purse tighter in your hand. 

Emma was one of your very best friends.

You'd met in elementary school when you had been put in a group project back in the states and stuck together ever since. Your other friend Jùn Dé had joined you in eighth grade and the three of you had been inseparable ever since.

You were an odd combo, Emma with her pink hair and quintessential Korean pretty girl looks, A-Jùn with his shoulder-length auburn hair and a new girl hanging off his arm every week, and you, the loud but easily flustered girl from the states.

The three of you had made quite the picture all through high school. 

You could really use one of them with you now, you thought to yourself. But alas, it was not to be, Emma caught up in a project for her Drama class and A-Jùn in his hometown for a family reunion. He groaned and moaned about it two, begging you to come with him, but had been dragged away by his brother, barely holding back from kicking and screaming. 

So here you were. All alone. In front of your new house. About to meet your new brothers.

You felt like cursing your dad, too busy with his Fiance on their Cruze of the Mediterranean to bother introducing you. He had apologized, and you understood why, they were newly engaged and wanted to spend time together, but you couldn't help resenting him a little.

Steeling yourself and pulling back your shoulders, you opened the gate, and marched up the front walkway, pressing the doorbell.

While waiting you took a moment to admire the perfectly trimmed gardens. The rows of pink roses, yellow daffodils, and purple lavender painted a stunning picture. The large white fountain, a statue of Venus in the center, water erupting from her hands. You let yourself relax, this place was beautiful and so, so peaceful.

You were jolted out of your musings by the sound of a throat being cleared and you startled, face on fire, turning back to the door. 

“You must be our new sister.” you nodded. “I'm Name,” you said, trying to keep your voice under control.

This was so embarrassing, your new brother had caught you daydreaming and on top of that, he was handsome. So handsome.

You blushed. “Nice to meet you, Name,” he said, once again pulling you out of your embarrassing thoughts. “Im Seokjin, the eldest.” he smiled at you kindly and you thought you might melt into a puddle right then and there.

“It's nice to meet you.” you managed. You needed to get yourself under control! It didn't matter how handsome your new brother was, he was off-limits.

They all were.

With this sobering thought, you smiled right back at him and followed him as he stepped aside, showing you into the house.

The house was large, with art pieces hanging along the walls and large vases of those beautiful flowers you spotted outside on each table. As you walked into the living room you noticed a grand piano in the corner and you almost squealed.

A grand Piano! And a concert-style one too! Your inner pianist was squealing in delight and you turned excitedly to your new brother.

“Is that a concert piano? Can I play it? Is it in tune?” you babbled out, eyes sparkling with excitement. Seokjin smiled, charmed by your enthusiasm. “You play piano?” he asked.

You nodded, “yes, I've played for a while now. Since I was 14.” he smiled again,  “You’ll have to ask Yoongi, it's his.” he responded, ruffling your hair. You nodded, storing the information away for later.

A concert Piano! A Big House, and a handsome older brother!! You certainly were winning in life, Emma would have a field day.

Seokjin grinned. Your enthusiasm was adorable, he certainly was lucky to have such a cute younger sister.

 “Your room is this way,” he said, leading you up the stairs and into a long hallway. 

“We all room on this floor. This one is mine, Taehyung and Jimin are next. You're between Yoongi and Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoesok at the end.” he gestured to your room. 

“All the rooms have nameplates on them, so it's pretty easy to tell whose is whose.” you looked up at him.

“Are the others here yet?’ he shook his head, leading you to your own bedroom and opening the door. “Jimin and Hoesok are both at part-time jobs, Yoongi’s napping in his room, Namjoon and Taehyung are both out grocery shopping and Jungkook had a school function he had to go to.”

You stepped into your room and your jaw dropped.

It was huge! Way bigger than your old room. Large floor-to-ceiling windows, covered with light blue drapes and a huge king bed.

A door attached led to another room and you opened it, practically screaming when you saw the large walk-in closet. “Is the room ok?” you turned to Seokjin. “Oh, it's perfect!” you said, excitement scrawled all across your face.

Seokjin grinned happily. “I'm glad you like it. The bathroom is down the hallway. Unfortunately, we only have one on this floor, so I hope you don't mind sharing.” you nodded excitedly barely hearing his words as you rushed over to peer out the windows, into the garden below.

“Take your time to unpack and explore a little.” Seokjin left the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

❀❀❀ 

It took no time at all to unpack your purse and small overnight bag and as soon as you were finished you headed downstairs.

Your plan was to go back to your apartment in a few days when A-Sang came back to pick up the rest of your boxes and fully move in by the end of the week. He had offered to help you and you desperately needed it.

You owned way too many clothes. 

You followed the sounds of voices to the kitchen and froze. Seokjin noticed you and smiled, waving you over.

“Name, this is Namjoon and Taehyung.” You walked over, ignoring how handsome your new brothers were, and smiled at them.

“It's nice to meet you.” you started.

Before you could continue you were enveloped by the smell of flowers as 178 centimeters of cute boy embraced you in his arms. “Taeyhyung,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

“Nice to meet you, Noona.” You squeaked and hugged him back, hiding your red face in his tee shirt.

“Nice to meet you too,” you said. You liked to think you were immune to pretty people.

You were pretty enough and had attracted a lot of staring. Emma was drop-dead gorgeous and A-Sang was a delicate type of sexy. You had thought you were immune. But this day was very quickly proving you wrong.

If the rest of your brothers were this handsome you were in trouble. You needed to get a hold of yourself.

Pulling your head away from Taehyung’s shoulder, you smiled at the other one, standing awkwardly by the door, rubbing the back of his neck. “You must be Namjoon, it's nice to meet you.” he grinned at you, shaking the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, Name.” 

He seemed pleasant. Grinning at you in a friendly way as he shook your hand firmly. His hand was big, much larger than your own, and enveloped yours. 

Jin spoke suddenly, shocking you out of your daze. “Tae, Namjoon, go put the groceries away.” Taehyung reluctantly pulled himself off your back and picked up the groceries, following Namjoon into the pantry.

Seokjin smiled at you apologetically, “I'm sorry about Taehyung, he is pretty touchy when he's sleepy.” You shook your head, smiling back. “Oh, it's no problem, Seokjin. I appreciate how welcoming you all have been.”

“It's no problem, and by the way,” he started, scratching the back of his neck,  “You can call me Jin-Oppa if you want.” He could feel the tips of his ears burning. You blushed a little, “Ok Jin-Oppa, is there anything I can help with?”

Jin grinned, grateful for an escape, and nodded, “I'd love it if you could help with dinner.” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Can you start the rice?”

You nodded and followed him into the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm your red face.

❀❀❀

By the time you and Jin had finished dinner, it was already 6:30. You heard the door slam open and Jin smirked

“Sounds like Jungkook” he said, setting out the places. “Our youngest, he's still in University.”

“What school does he go to?” you asked, “-------- University.” you smile. “Oh, I knew that name sounded familiar. We go to the same university!”

Jin looks at you in surprise, “We have a shared class as well, English.” 

You look up as you hear footsteps, eyes landing on the familiar figure of Jungkook. You smile, giving him a little wave. 

“Hey, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook freezes, staring at you, his face flushing an embarrassing red.

“Name.” he says, pushing his hair out of his eyes, “what are you doing here.”

You smile at him, “Surprise!” you exclaim thoroughly cheered up by the sight of a friendly face, “I'm your new step-sister!” 

Jungkook stares at you, mouth open, before he abruptly turns, running back upstairs. You frown, feeling a little hurt.

Noticing your expression, Jin just shakes his head. “I'm sure he was just surprised, Name.” You nodded, “yeah, of course.” going back to setting the table. It was bound to be just as confusing for them as it was for you. You were so grateful to Jin and the others for being so kind and welcoming. You hoped the other brothers could eventually accept you as family, Jungkook as well. 

The opening notes of Pretty Woman blasted from your pocket and you jumped, smiling nervously at Jin. “Sorry it's my friend.” he nodded at you and whispered a soft, “Dinners in twenty minutes”.

You gave him a thumbs up and slipped out of the kitchen into the living room, collapsing on the sofa. 

As soon as you picked up the phone, Emma’s excited voice reached your eardrums.

“Name, How did it go? Did you meet your brothers? Are they hot? Are they nice?”

You laughed, cutting her off. 

“Hello, Emma, nice to talk to you again.”

She huffed impatiently.

“Yes Emma, I met my brothers.” you started switching to Mandarin.

“They're all very nice. And unfortunately, the ones I've met are very handsome,” you admitted, hoping none of the boys spoke Mandarin.

You couldn't use English, you knew Namjoon spoke it fluently. It was at times like this you thanked your father for forcing you to learn Korean and Mandarin when you were yonger, your native language English. 

“They have all been very welcoming.” you switched back to Korean. “And my bedroom is huge bro!”

She giggled, “girl you better invite me over STAT, I need to see those handsome brothers of yours.” 

“Shush!” you hissed at her through the phone. 

She laughed at you. “Anyway, A-Jùn just called me. He said he's getting back tonight. He should call you soon.” 

“Done with the reunion already?” you asked.

A-Sang’s relatives were sticky and you doubted they would let him go early.

“Yeah, I couldn't believe it either.” Emma responded, “He didn't tell me why though, something about family drama.” you nodded, you should probably expect a call later that evening.

“Emma, call me on face-time, and I'll give you a tour of the room.” Emma’s shriek of delight followed you as you ran up the stairs. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Your Smile Is The Sunrise, It Warms My Heart

posted on ao3 on 2023-03-01

reposted onto tumblr on 2023-06-08

Genre: Eventual Smut, Shenanigans

Pairing: OT7! x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Hosoek x Reader, Yoongi x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, Jimin x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k and counting

Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, Step Silblings, Not Incest I Promise, Eventual Smut

Summary:

“So here you were. All alone. In front of your new house. About to meet your new brothers. You cursed your dad, too busy with his fiance on their Cruze of the Mediterranean to bother introducing you. He had apologized, and you understood why, they were newly engaged and wanted to spend time together, but you couldn't help resenting him a little. Steeling yourself and pulling back your shoulders, you opened the gate, and marched up the front walkway, pressing the doorbell.”

When your father remarries, you decide to move in with your seven hot step brothers.

( This story is based loosely on Brothers Conflict, the anime(I haven't played the game)

I got the idea from two of my absolute favorite fics. "Oppa!" by caiuscassiuss and "Brothers Conflict" by Nyxie_pixie

Definitely go check those out, they are awsome!!)

Masterlist

Chapter 1: How it Began

Chapter 2: Your Looks Are Crime

Chapter 3: Of Underwear and Chinese Food

Chapter 4: Family Meeting Take One and a Prince in a Yellow Raincoat

Chapter 5: Taehyung is a Weak, Weak Man

Chapter 6: Hoseok is in Hell(Or Heaven he Can't Decide)

Chapter 7: Yoongi is (NOT) in DeNile

Chapter 8: Jin is (NOT) More Mature Than his Brothers

Chapter 9: In Which You Get Your Back Blown Out

Chapter 10: Yet Another Family Meeting Where Stuff Actually Happens

Chapter 11: The Beginning of the End

Chapter 12: London Bridge is Falling Down

Chapter 13: My Fair Lady

Chapter 14: Namjoon Meets God(And She Laughs at Him)

Chapter 15: City Of Stars, Why Do You Shine at All

Chapter 16: Must Have Been a Deadly Kiss

Chapter 17: The Great, All Powerful A-Jun is Here(Finally...)

Chapter 18:

Chapter 19:

Chapter 20:

Chapter 21:

Chapter 22:

Chapter 23:

Chapter 24:

Chapter 25: