Ahem. It's snippet Sunday; you know what that means!
For everyone who's been waiting for the next chap of Bloom...have a lil slice. :3
bloom
Five years. That’s how long it’s been since he’s had a real drink. Since he’s worn something other than a jumpsuit. Since he’s had a shower all to himself. Since he’s had a good fuck.
He winces to himself, even as he makes his way to the bar. Jesus. Vanessa. He hasn’t given her a second thought since this shitshow with - with the RV started.
It isn’t that he regrets it, exactly. He had already decided, before he’d even gotten out, that they needed to part ways. Trying to get all three of them across the border was too big a gamble, and - fuck. As much as he’d missed her…he hadn’t. Not really. Not the way she thought he did.
They’d had some good times, for sure. But for every good memory, there were about five shitty ones waiting to overshadow it. From smashed dishes across the head to misunderstandings to out-and-out death threats, they had plenty to pick and choose from. He couldn’t go back to that. It had been a pipe dream, something to while away the endless hours on the inside. But as much as he was in the habit of dissembling to himself, when the time had come to leave, he had decided once and for all that a clean break was what was needed. He’d pass on the money, say his goodbyes, and then it would be end scene.
Of course, getting some during the course of those goodbyes had been on his maybe to-do list. He had missed her, after all, and she’d been more than willing. And it was one the only things they’d ever been good at together, really. So he’d gotten his, she’d gotten hers, and that had been the end of it. Where she is now, he hasn’t a clue. Maybe she escaped. Maybe she’s halfway to Florida with her four mil right now, planning on getting that bar. It had been more her dream than his, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen the appeal.
Or she could be locked up right now, and that piece of the take is now back in the hands of Uncle Sam. The thought has him gritting his teeth. What a fucking waste, if that’s what happened.
So here he is, in a brand new suit that’s already been through hell and back, and feeling restless, an itch just beneath his skin, despite the quickie.
At least he got his shower. And there’s a fucking bar.
He makes his way towards it, Jacob on his heels. He grabs up a bottle of rotgut tequila, determined to raise his alcohol level tolerance back up to its former glory.
And comes to find out, after a quick back-and-forth with the barkeep, that this is Carlos’ place. His territory. Jesus, this day just keeps getting better and better.
After making a deal with the bartender that he isn’t half as confident in as he portrays, he leads a quietly seething Pastor Fuller back to a table where the rest of his brood is situated. Where she is.
He still can’t think of her by name, much less say it. At any rate, he hasn’t tried to, and that’s just fine with him. Pretty soon she’ll be going one way, and he’ll be going the other, and that will be all there is to it.
That thought sits oddly in his throat, an obstruction he has to swallow around. It stands to reason, he supposes, that yeah, he’d be a little fucked up about that. You wait seventeen years to meet someone - and understand, you already know they’re gonna hate you - but you wait that long, suppressing all kinds of stupid shit: daydreams, little fantasies you’ve constructed in your head, and bitterness starts to creep in. You tell yourself that despite everything else you believe about the world, that one person can’t possibly be your destiny, your sole purpose in life, ‘cause where’s the fun in that? The world is too wide, too vast for it to be narrowed down to the existence of a single, solitary being.
So he keeps reminding himself. Some days it’s easier to lie than others.
But it’s been seventeen years. He’s been waiting all this time, denial or no, and now it’s just - what, wham, bam, thank you ma’am? He doesn’t know a damn thing about her. If ‘Kate’ is short for something. What her favorite dessert is. If she prefers summer or winter. He’s tried so damn hard not to build up a construct of her over the years, but little things have slipped through. For some reason, at one point he had got it in his head that she was, in fact, left-handed like him. Like they’re supposed to be this matching set. Which is a dangerous thing to assume, as it leads down a slippery slope towards hope. No thanks. Seth could do without the Disneyfication of his life.
It’s these thoughts that force his hand. There’s a chair by Jacob. He could have sat there, out of her orbit, far enough away where he couldn’t feel her heat, smell the chlorine in her hair.
Could have. He doesn’t.
Instead he parks himself right beside her, sets the bottle of tequila between them. It puts his back to the majority of the room, which makes him itch between the shoulder blades, but it’s worth it.
I'm saving the cherry pie scene for AO3, forgive me. It's nothing ground-breaking or awe-inspiring, but it is my own version, and I quite like it.
Thanks ever so for reading! ❤️If you enjoyed this, try the whole thing here on tumblr or on AO3.
✿ PAIRING: CEO!hoseok x bookstore employee!reader (nicknamed bloom)
✿ RATING: (18 +) mature
✿ GENRE + WARNINGS: ex’s to lovers au, angst, smut, fluff | straddling, one spank, masturbation, cum tasting, implied sex, dreams, flashbacks, break-up, heartbreak, haru is a cutie pie, mina is the bestest friend, passing of a family member, grief, implied depression, brief mention of therapy, second chances, fluffy smut, kissing, oral, fingering, light nipple play, multiple orgasms, praise kink, aftercare, cuddling
✿ WORD COUNT: 6.2k
✿ SUMMARY: life gets busier for hoseok once he acquires his late father’s company. you understand his new role as CEO, but he slowly pushes you away as he grieves, and with every special occasion he misses. one day, you both decide it’s best to go your separate ways. still, as time passes, you both realize that living without each other is much more painful.
✿ AUTHOR’S NOTE: flashbacks/dreams are in italic
for the Hopeful Hearts february event hosted by @bangtanwritershq
“Jagiya, be a good girl and let me finish these papers first,” you giggle because you can hear the hesitation in his voice, although you know he means it as a warning. Hoseok doesn’t have many weaknesses, but one of them is definitely you.
You’re straddling his lap, placing soft, warm kisses along his neck as he reads over a document. His hand automatically reaches behind you, his fingers lifting the hem of your T-shirt, and when he feels the skin of your bare ass, he groans. Hoseok feels you smile against his neck, and without warning, he gives your behind a spank and chuckles when you yelp and squirm in his lap.
You look up at him with big innocent eyes, but he knows you better than that. There’s nothing innocent about you when you’re like this. You grow impatient and needy when you go without his attention for too long. Hoseok knows it’s been days of him holed up in his home office trying to get work done, and you’ve tried to be patient, but you miss him. You miss talking to him, having meals with him, hugging him. You miss laughing and making love.
Hoseok misses all of that too.
He drops the document on the table to place his other hand under your ass, and then he stands, lifting you with him and taking you into his bedroom.
He tosses you on the bed, and you gasp, your body bouncing on the mattress, which makes you laugh. Your boyfriend grins at you before removing his shirt and tossing it to the floor. You’ll never get used to how beautiful he is, how he still takes your breath away. But you have the same effect on him, and he knows that’ll never go away.
“Take it off,” he gestures to your shirt with his chin, eyes suddenly darkening with lust, and you obey. You can’t wait to feel his hands on you. You’re desperate to taste him, hear his groans as you, too, please him. His eyes follow the path of your hands as they descend to the warmth between your legs, fingers teasing your clit. You can’t take your eyes away from him as he bites on his bottom lip and, at the same time, grips his clothed cock.
“Baby, please. Want to feel you inside me,” you whine, legs parting further apart for him. Hoseok’s in awe of how wet you still get for him. Pushing two fingers inside yourself, you let out a moan. For Hoseok, there’s nothing sexier than watching you pleasure yourself. He might even dare say it’s almost better than sex.
His cock jerks at the sight of your essence dripping on his sheets, and he’s not able to contain himself any longer. Removing his pants along with his underwear, he then climbs over the bed and wraps his hand around your wrist, bringing your wet fingers to his lips. He groans at your heady taste as it coats his tongue. You’re his favorite flavor, and all he wants to do is get his fill of you for the night.
Hoseok gently pushes you down against the pillows and caresses your cheek. You melt into his touch and turn your face a bit to leave a soft kiss on the delicate skin of his wrist. The look of pure adoration in his eyes leaves you breathless and your heart rate accelerating.
You’re still so in love with him.
“You’re so beautiful, Bloom. Radiant as ever,” You smile at the nickname and think back to the day he gave it to you.
Two years ago, you attended the Yeouido Cherry Blossom festival with your best friend Mina and her three-year-old daughter. Hoseok was running late for a meeting when he ran into the festival. With all the rush, he’d forgotten about it and couldn’t take the usual shortcut. He decided to risk it last minute and weave around the people to get to his office faster. That was until he noticed you standing by one of the cherry blossom trees with a tiny human in your arms, helping her reach for one of the blossoms with a giant smile on your face. Radiant, he thought.
Hoseok forgot everything at that moment. His name, the meeting he was supposed to attend, how to breathe. There was only you, your pretty smile, and the way the wind blew through your hair. It sounds crazy, but a whole life with you flashed through his mind, and it scared him a little because that’d never happened to him before. That same future he imagined made his feet move towards you. He hadn’t even noticed he was close until the little girl in your arms spoke and made you turn to him. When your eyes met his own, that’s when he knew he wasn’t wrong.
“Haru, you’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” you’d said teasingly, not taking your eyes away from the handsome man standing before you. He had warm eyes and an endearing heart-shaped smile. You’d never seen a smile so bright on a man before. But what astonished you the most was how perfect his dyed platinum hair complemented his deep golden skin. The man was gorgeous, and he resembled a prince surrounded by all the cherry blossom trees.
“You’re the prettiest bloom amongst all the cherry blossoms,” he blurted without thought. Your friend playfully slapped your arm with a chuckle, trying to get you to say something back but all you could do was laugh. But it was a warm laugh, and it instantly made his heart calm down.
“I bet you say that to all the girls you see around,” you smirked, lifting a dark brow.
“I only see you,” he countered, and your smirk faltered because damn, he got you, and you didn’t want him to let go.
“Jung Hoseok,” he offered you his hand to shake, “It’s nice to meet you, Bloom.”
He knew that faraway look in your eyes. Hoseok always thought back to that day too.
“Kiss me, baby.” You raise your hips to grind your sex along his length for some friction as he lowers his head to kiss your lips. His kiss is deep and slow, taking his time to taste you and play with your tongue. Gently, Hoseok parts your legs further to place his cock at your entrance, and then he slowly pushes in as his mouth swallows your moan.
You’re sobbing when you wake up from your dream full of happy memories once lived, tears streaming by the side of your face as you struggle to breathe. You’re still lying down after a couple of minutes, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how hard it’s been not having Hoseok in your life anymore when he made all of your days so much brighter. It’s been nearly a year and a half without him, and dreaming about your ex still hurts.
You startle when you feel the vibration of your cellphone. Retrieving it from the side table, you smile when you see it’s your goddaughter video calling you, and you answer right away.
“Haru, did you sneak off with your mother’s phone again?”
Your break-up with Hoseok affected Haru as well. She was only three when he came into her life, and the little girl quickly got attached to him. He was amazing with her, and you knew he loved her so much. He was a part of her little life for two years, and she got used to being around him and expecting to see him whenever she came over to your house. He’d taught her how to read, and he rarely told her no when she asked him to play dolls with her. The only thing you’d asked for when you broke up was for him to keep in contact with her somehow to lessen the blow of him not being around anymore.
He kept his word.
Haru giggles and shakes her head, “No, eomma knows I’m calling! She’s making breakfast, and she said if you want to come to eat with us.”
“Say yes!” You laugh, hearing your best friend shout from the kitchen.
“Okay, baby girl. I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you sit up and hop out of bed.
“Yay! Bye!” Haru squeals and hangs up, which makes you chuckle. She always made you smile even on the days you didn’t think you could.
You loved that Haru and Mina lived in the same building, just two floors down. After the break-up, they were such incredible support for you. Mina knew better than anyone how much you loved Hoseok. She was there the day he went up to you. She always thought you were both perfect for each other.
After throwing on a hoodie and a pair of sweat pants, you slide on some slippers and head downstairs to Mina’s apartment for breakfast.
“Your father would’ve been so proud of you, Hoseok,” his mother lovingly cups his cheeks and smiles up at him with the same bright smile he inherited from her. It’s been a while since she’s seen her son smile, though. She’ll rarely catch a glimpse of a genuine one these days. Only you brought that out in him, and she’d give anything for him to get that happiness back—if only her son weren’t so stubborn.
“Thank you, eomma. You’ve been there every step of the way, and I’m truly grateful for that,” he places a gentle kiss on her forehead. He should feel happy. He achieved something his father had been trying to do for a while—merging their company with one of the best fragrance companies in South Korea. Not only that, but he’d gotten them to agree in doing so on equal terms, something that is mostly unheard of. Profits have been increasing since then, and it’s all the business community has been talking about.
Hoseok’s mother looks at him cautiously, debating whether or not to bring your name up. She decides to just go for it because her heart couldn’t take seeing her son waste his happiness.
“Have you thought about giving YN a call? I think—”
“Eomma, please don’t,” Hoseok warns. “We’ve been over for a long time now. I know you really liked her, but we’ve moved on.”
“Answer me this one question—do you still love her?” Hoseok sighs, looking defeated as he takes a seat at his desk. His mother’s eyes soften as she watches her son debate if he should entertain her question.
“I do still love her,” he finally admits.
“Then it’s not over yet,” she says. “Your break-up, although painful, was amicable. You were still in love with each other when you decided to separate.”
“I don’t know if she still feels the same way. I pushed Bloom away, eomma. I was so wrapped up in my grief over appa’s death and the pile-on of work he left behind that I neglected her. I said some hurtful things to her too. I can’t believe she forgave me for it. And she was so understanding when I proposed breaking up. I don’t deserve her,” the pain displayed on her son’s face further breaks her heart. Hoseok had never told her this much before.
“A love like that isn’t forgotten so quickly. My heart tells me she loves you still,” she pats his cheek lovingly and smiles.
“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic, eomma,” he chuckles.
“So are you, my dear son. You got that from me,” she says with a grin, remembering how adamant he was about naming their new fragrance after you.
His father’s cremation ceremony took a lot out of Hoseok. He kept his emotions in check for his mother, and he could only do so because you were there helping him stay strong too. He broke down as soon as you both got home that late afternoon. You had no idea what it felt like to lose a parent but only thinking about it made you feel an emptiness inside you never wished to experience in any lifetime. You’d never seen anyone cry the way Hoseok did that day, and you felt helpless because there was absolutely nothing you could do but hold him as he sobbed against your chest.
He’d fallen asleep on the couch a while after. As he slept, you made him some tea and soup so that he could have something in his belly before going to sleep later in the night. It took a little coaxing, but he ate more than half of the soup and drank all the tea once he woke up. He was barely eating since he found out his father passed, understandably so, but it worried you to no end.
“Come closer, baby,” you whispered to Hoseok in bed. He was lying on his side, his once bright eyes full of sadness and his usual beautiful heart-shaped smile now in a straight line as he looked at you. He slid closer, allowing you to envelop him in your arms. Once you felt his breathing even out, you knew he’d fallen asleep, and you followed right after.
The days following that night were difficult. You saw less of Hoseok each day, and on the rare occasions you did see him, he was stuck in his office at home. He’d barely look at you when you’d go inside to leave dinner on his desk. You knew he was still grieving; there’s no timeline for how long grief lasts, and you understood that. His job was much more demanding now that he was the CEO, and he’d get home so tired. You tried giving him time and space, but as the months passed, you began feeling like a nuisance in his life. He hadn’t touched you intimately in a while, and that made your insecurities rear their ugly face. You didn’t feel wanted or needed anymore, and sometimes that made you feel guilty because how dare you to feel that way when Hoseok was going through so much?
“No, YN. Don’t do that to yourself. You have a right to feel whatever you’re feeling. You’ve stuck by him through everything, put your needs aside to help him get through his grief, and supported him in his new life as CEO. You don’t have to feel guilty in admitting that you feel neglected,” Mina hugged you, trying to calm your sobs. She’d knocked on your door to ask to borrow some gochujang when she noticed your red-rimmed eyes and the tracks of dried-up tears on your cheeks.
On a day like today, you would’ve been over at Hoseok’s; instead, you were at your apartment because you couldn’t take his coldness towards you anymore. You were hurting too, and you weren’t sure how to bring it up to him. You were so scared of losing him, but you didn’t know what else to do.
“He forgot my birthday last month,” you said, not meeting Mina’s eyes. It was Haru’s weekend with her father, so Mina decided to stay with you for the night.
“What? But he sent you a birthday gift to the book store. I signed for it and everything,” this confused your friend, and she figured there was more to it that you didn’t want to say.
“Yeah, well, all of the “special” dates are saved on his assistant's computer, so she’s always on top of things like that. I can’t deny that it made me happy when you handed me the gift. He didn’t say anything in the morning, barely acknowledged me. I thought maybe he’d forgotten that morning and quickly sent something to apologize, but when he got home and I thanked him for it, he seemed confused. That’s when I figured it out.”
“Oh no,” Mina sympathized.
“Yesterday was our anniversary. Remember I asked you to let me go early from work?” Mina nodded. “I prepared his favorite meal, I got all dolled up and lit candles everywhere, and he never came home that night.”
You felt your throat tighten, tears threatening to spill again as you recounted the events of the following morning when Hoseok finally arrived home. He found you sitting on the couch with everything you’d prepared for him the night before, still out in the open. He felt terrible as soon as he realized what he’d missed, but the guilt and his pride wouldn’t let him comfort you, which led to an argument and him calling you needy. He said you made him feel suffocated with all the attention you begged from him, and as soon as those words left his lips, he regretted them. Hoseok regretted them because it wasn’t true. You were perfect through everything, and he couldn’t understand why he would say such things. He wasn’t thinking straight, afraid that he’d hurt you more if things kept on like they were. You were his everything, and he needed to protect you from himself.
Hearing your boyfriend call you needy and suffocating was heartbreaking. You were only trying to be there for him, but if he felt that way, then you had no business staying there anymore. What could you even say to that? So, you said nothing and walked towards the bedroom.
Hoseok panicked when he noticed what you were doing and tried to stop you.
“Bloom, please don’t,” he grabbed your wrist, but you wouldn’t look at him. He did this to you. He made you cry and made you feel like you weren’t wanted. He fucking hated himself for it. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”
“You don’t look at me or even touch me anymore, Hoseok. You’re never home, but I’m suddenly needy, and now I suffocate you?”
“You don’t. I don’t know why I said that. Please forgive me, Bloom. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I don’t want you to leave like this,” he cupped your face, trying to get you to look at him.
You sighed, tears streaming down your cheeks as he rushed to clear them with his thumbs. It was no use when they kept falling like a burst dam.
“Okay, I forgive you,” you whispered, voice still shaky from crying. You buried your face in Hoseok’s chest, wanting to breathe in his unique scent. It did its job in comforting you. That was until his following words shook you to your core.
“I think it’s best if we break up.”
“Y—You don’t love me anymore,” just saying those words felt like it burned you from the inside out.
“I love you more than anything. That’s not why I said we should break up. Bloom, I’m not okay right now, and I don’t want to keep hurting you. I’m afraid you’ll end up hating me if we keep on like this. It’s killing me having to tell you this, but I hope you understand.”
“Hoseok, please—” he reached for you, hugging you tightly, and kissed the top of your head. He was sobbing too. You could hear his heartbeat by the way he held your head against his chest. You were going to miss falling asleep to that wonderful sound.
“You look gorgeous!” Mina says as she takes a step back to look at your finished makeup.
“She looks like a princess, right, eomma?” Mina nods, giggling as her daughter circles you, taking in your dress with wide, curious eyes. You’re smiling down at her, but the excitement doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Haru, why don’t you go to the living room and pick out a movie to watch after YN leaves for her date?”
“Okay!” She runs off giggling, leaving Mina and you chuckling after her. She was just so cute!
“Well, that didn’t take much convincing,” Mina muses.
“She does love her movies,” you say.
You both grow quiet as you glance at yourself in the mirror. Mina was great at makeup; you had to admit. She always knew the best way to bring out your eyes.
“You don’t seem excited about the date,” your friend guesses. She takes a seat on your bed and gestures for you to do the same. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”
Letting out a long sigh, you look at her and shrug your shoulders. “This is going to be my third date with Jinyoung, and I still haven’t felt any sparks between us. Honestly, I don’t even know why he even asked for a second date in the first place.”
“Maybe it’s because he likes you a lot, YN. No, I’m sure he does. I still remember the look on his face when you came to his rescue at the bookstore. It was like he was in a trance. He couldn’t take his eyes off you,” Mina chuckles at the memory of the clumsy man who almost dropped a row of books at her store.
“He’s a good guy, and he’s so handsome, but I don’t want to keep stringing him along if I don’t feel anything, you know?”
“Tell you what, why don’t you go on this date, and if by the end of it you still feel the same, let him know it’s not going to work out. If he’s genuinely a good guy, he’ll understand,” Mina suggests.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am!”
The date wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t the best either. You were distracted the whole time. The restaurant Jinyoung chose was incredible; the only problem was that it was Hoseok’s favorite place, and he was all you could think about as you both ordered food, ate, and conversed. Everything reminded you of him and all the special occasions you both celebrated there.
“Hey, are you alright?” Jinyoung asks as he places his hand over yours. You flinch a little at his touch, and his eyes widen with concern.
“I have to tell you something.”
Hoseok felt like his heart stopped as soon as he saw you walk into the restaurant on the arm of another man forty-five minutes ago. He’s been observing you ever since, not being able to focus on his dinner meeting with new clients entirely. His table was far enough away where he could see you clearly but not hear you. God, you’re beautiful, and he couldn’t help feeling this sense of possessiveness over you as your dinner with the other guy continued. But Hoseok knew you well. You don’t seem like yourself. He notices how you absentmindedly play with your ring—something you always do when nervous about something.
Suddenly, the man you came in with called the waiter over, paid, and then left. You got up from your seat and headed over to the restroom.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I have to use the restroom.” Hoseok figured you were upset, and he had no idea what he would say to you after not seeing you for so long.
Several minutes passed before you finally came out of the bathroom when your steps faltered at the sight of your ex-boyfriend. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him here, it was his favorite restaurant after all, but it was still a shock to see him. You were still sensitive about how things went with Jinyoung, and you couldn’t help the tears brimming your eyes. You felt such a deep longing for the man standing in front of you, but you couldn’t deny you were angry with him too.
“Bloom,” no one but Hoseok ever called you that, and hearing it now crushed you because you missed him so much. You closed your eyes upon hearing the nickname; the tears that were just threatening to fall finally do. Things couldn’t ever work with Jinyoung, or any other guy for that matter, because you were still in love with your ex. “I’m so sorry, Bloom. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Hoseok reached out for you and pulled you close against his chest as you let out the sobs you were holding inside.
Hoseok held you until you let it all out, never rushing you or telling you that it was alright because it wasn’t. He wanted to make it right so badly, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. Would you ever be willing to give him a second chance?
“Hey, Bloom. Is it okay if I drive you home? I just have to get back to my table and let them know I have to go.” He was being so gentle with you, wiping your tears, and you couldn’t help but melt against his touch. You’ve missed his warmth so much.
Your throat felt tight with emotion still, so you answered him with a nod instead, “Okay, here.” He handed you a valet ticket, “I should be outside by the time the car arrives.”
The car ride home was quiet, just like Hoseok had assumed. You decide to make yourself busy by making some tea as Hoseok removes his shoes and suit jacket by the entrance. He feared a rejection on your part to have a conversation, but you surprised him by inviting him upstairs before he even asked.
“Sugar?” You break the silence and add the sugar when he nods.
Your heart’s pounding from how nervous you are. When Hoseok notices your trembling hands, he stands and takes the tea from you to bring it into the living room. You follow him and take the seat beside him, and then he turns to look at you.
“I handled my father’s death terribly, and what followed after was worse. I’m so sorry for putting you through all of that, for pushing you away when all you wanted to do was show me love and support. I’m sorry for hurting you by making you believe I didn’t love you anymore when that was the furthest thing from the truth.”
The burning at the back of your throat returns, but you don’t want to cry anymore. You’d done enough of that. Whichever way this situation went, you needed to speak clearly. You needed to let it out all in the open.
“You lost a part of yourself when your dad passed, and you grieved as a son should. I will never begrudge you that, Hoseok. But when you began treating me as if I didn’t exist, yeah, that hurt. You forgot about me. You forgot about us. But I’ve also had a lot to think about this past year and a half, and I can’t imagine the amount of pain you were in. I wished for you to open up to me many times, but now I understand that maybe you didn’t know how to do that,” you place a hand over his, which in turn he takes in his and squeezes gently.
“It’s still not an excuse for how I handled it. I never meant to hurt you; I hope you know that.”
“It’s not, but I do know you never meant to hurt me, and I forgave you a long time ago. It was so hard in the beginning, being without you. I’m lucky I work with Mina in her bookstore and that she made me take some time off for myself. As time passed, it became a little more bearable, and I tried to move on,” you say as you wonder if he’s managed to move on from you.
A selfish part of yourself wishes he hasn’t.
“Does he make you happy?” Hoseok asks, trying to gauge your reaction. “The man you were with at the restaurant. Your boyfriend?”
“No. not my boyfriend. Um, it was just a date, and it didn’t go well,” you look away, remembering how nice Jinyoung was about everything, which made you feel that much more guilty.
“Oh, sorry to hear that,” but as you look at him, he doesn’t seem sorry.
“Are you really? What exactly is it you want to know, Hoseok?” You were never one to beat around the bush; he should’ve anticipated your boldness.
“I, uh… I want to know if you’d be willing to give me another chance.” God, he’d be crushed if you say no. “I’ve been seeing a therapist for the past year, trying to learn how to understand my emotions and how to deal with them. But I get it if you don’t want to deal with that—”
“Hey, I think it’s amazing you’re seeing a therapist,” you smile at him and take his hand in yours. “You’re bettering yourself, and that makes me happy.” His eyes softened at your words, the kind of look that gave your heart flutters much like right now. Your glad to find out those never went away.
Where you willing to give him another chance? The short answer was yes.
“Do you think you’d be able to love me again?” Hoseok could be so clueless sometimes. Couldn’t he tell by the way you were looking at him? Couldn’t he tell by the way you held his hands, not once removing them from your lap? Or at how you couldn’t stop staring at him, eyes bouncing over every beautiful feature of his. His eyes were bright again, and you could see that some of the unhappiness he carried was gone.
“I never stopped loving you. There wasn’t an instance where my love for you ever faltered, Hoseok.” He’s surprised when you move to sit on his lap and place your hands on his cheeks to wipe the tears away. He’s so happy to know you still love him; to be able to hold you in his arms is something he thought he’d never get the chance ever to do again.
“I love you too. I missed you so much,” he pulls you in and kisses you. It’s desperate, but you match his fervor, pouring into it every moment you thought of him, every tear you cried, and all the wishes you made to have him back in your life.
You don’t need to say what you both need right now; you let your bodies talk. Hoseok stands, wrapping your legs around his waist, and walks over to your room. You’re panting against his mouth, your hands gripping his hair as he sets you down to pull off your dress. It’s only then that Hoseok allows himself to pull away from the kiss to admire you.
“Please, baby. It’s been so long without you,” you say, reaching out to unbutton his shirt. You do so quickly and then go on to unbuckle his belt next.
Before you can unzip his pants, he grabs your hands, “Get in the bed for me, love.”
You don’t hesitate and do as he says while he watches the way your breasts bounce when you plop yourself on the bed. He smiles at your playfulness, eyes darkening when you reach to play with your nipples. He always did love watching you touch yourself, but he wanted to be the one to make you feel good. Clothes off, Hoseok reaches for your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. His warm hands slide up your legs, his touch igniting every part of your body as his fingers reach your underwear to tug them off.
His eyes are met with your glistening sex as he kneels before you, parting your legs wider to see all of you, “So fucking beautiful, Bloom. Always so wet and good for me, baby.” His praises make your walls clench, and you whine, wanting him where you need it most. Thank God he doesn’t make you wait long.
“Fuck,” you sigh when he licks up your wetness and then uses his tongue to lick at your aching clit. One of his fingers circles your hole before he slides it in. The drag of it and the perfect pressure he applies on your nub is enough to make you cum within minutes in a shudder.
“Such a good girl,” Hoseok says before placing a kiss on your clit. You both move further up in the bed, and more kisses follow as he makes his way up to your breasts. He slots his bottom half between your parted legs; one hand is placed next to your head as the other begins to knead your right breast. The moan you let out when he drops his head to suck on your nipple and rut against your cunt is obscene. Letting go of your nipple with a wet pop, Hoseok glances up at you, “You’re sensitive, my love.” You’ve missed this—missed him so much.
He's still grinding against you, the friction against your throbbing nub bringing you closer to another orgasm, “It’s b—been a long time,” you manage to breathe out.
Hoseok’s eyes widen with surprise at your admission, “Not since me?” He dares ask, and you shyly nod, teeth biting into your bottom lip. The knowledge that you haven’t been with anyone else but him this whole time selfishly makes him feel happy, but only because it’s been the same for him too.
“Oh, love. Can you cum for me just like this?” He rolls a nipple between his fingers and then pinches, the pleasurable pain making you cry out as you cum a second time. Hoseok never takes his eyes away from you as you continue writhing under him, body jolting when oversensitivity kicks in. You’re so fucking beautiful to watch like this.
“I’ve only been yours this whole time, too,” he says, and he kisses you deep and desperate as he lifts your leg to wrap around his waist, his cock pushing in slowly to give you time to adjust to his size again. You’re so tight, and when he’s finally filled you to the hilt, you both moan against each other's lips. “I love you,” he whispers as he begins moving his hips, the drag of his cock making your already sensitive walls clench.
Hoseok’s thrusts are slow but deep, the tip of his cock hitting your spot each time. He angles his hips and fucks into you just right, making you cry out, back arching away from the bed and falling back with a thud. “Fuck, I’m not going to last long, baby. So close,” he says. He can tell you’re close, too, as your walls grip his length repeatedly. When his fingers reach for your clit, you whine as his thrusts become faster.
“Cum with me; need to feel you first, love.” That’s enough to have you seeing stars when you finally cum as you say his name over and over until he’s spilling inside you with a loud groan and his face buried in your neck.
“I love you,” you tell him, watching as he cleans you up. He’s being so gentle with you, and your chest tightens when you see the adoration for you in his eyes. “Stay the night?”
“Of course,” he answers, his heart-shaped smile taking your breath away.
“Good morning, beautiful,” you smile when you feel Hoseok’s arms pulling you in flush against his body, his hold tightening as he leaves a trail of kisses along the back of your neck, and chuckles when you playfully push your ass back against his morning wood. You haven’t slept this well in a very long time.
You’re welcomed by his sleepy but gorgeous face when you turn in his arms to look at him. It’s all you want to do after being so long without him. His platinum hair sticks out at odd angles, and you almost coo at how endearing it is. Hoseok’s not surprised when you pull him in for a kiss, sweet and languid as you card your fingers through his hair. Of course, he immediately gives in. You always woke up extra cuddly in the mornings, and he was happy to know you hadn’t changed because it was his favorite part of the day.
“I didn’t get to tell you last night for obvious reasons,” he grins, “but I leave for Japan in a couple of days for business, and I would love it if you came with me.” You’re surprised by his request. Your excitement is palpable, but you let him continue. “The cherry blossoms will be in bloom there, and I’d like to take you. I also have a surprise for you.”
The hand that Hoseok has splayed against your back slowly descends until it reaches the top of your bare ass and pulls you in closer, his erection now poking at your mound. Your body reacts to his touch, his warmth. You don’t ever want to leave this bed.
“I think I can work something out,” you say, smiling against his lips. It’s just a sweet kiss, but you feel his cock twitch, and it makes you chuckle because anything you ever did always got him riled up. You feel a little smug that you still have such an effect on him. Hoseok’s just grateful to have you in his arms again, hoping that he’d get to reach over every single morning and that you’d be next to him, that he’d get to breathe you in and have your scent embedded.
You were both going to be okay from now on. That much you knew to be true in your heart.
MK was born with an uncurling tiger lily emblazoned above his heart.
or: in a world where people Bloom flowers on their skin based on their life experiences, MK has many.
🌸 rated G
🌸 8.6k, complete
🌸 Heart-Flower au, magical tattoos, language of flowers
🌸 found family/families of choice vibes
🌸 read it here!
Alright everyone my moots got me into this fandom and now it’s taken over my waking thoughts so it should take over yours too! Hope you enjoy!
excerpt:
MK pouts. He can’t read yet, and the characters swim before his eyes when he tries to focus, so he just looks at the pictures as Pigsy skims through the book. He flips a page, and a familiar flower catches MK’s eye. He leans forward, pushing himself up on the table. “Pigsy, Pigsy, that one’s mine!”
“Heliotropes,” Pigsy says. MK mouths the unfamiliar word along with him. “Devotion. Huh.”
“What’s devotion?”
Pigsy pauses. “It’s when you care about something a lot. Like me and the noodle shop.” He looks down at MK. “You got something like that in your life, kid?”
MK giggles. Isn’t it obvious? There’s only one person in the world who took him in, who feeds him, who takes such good care of him even when he doesn’t have to.
MK is devoted to Pigsy.
He tells this to him with a big grin, tilting his head back so that he can see Pigsy’s face and that rare, special smile that he gives MK sometimes, the one that makes him light up from the inside out.
But Pigsy gets a funny look on his face. “Haha, kid.” He kind of smiles, but it’s wrong somehow.
hi! for brother’s best friend week i could not sleep without recommending “bloom” by jungxk 💌 it’s insanely hot, insanely well-written. tells the story of namjoon’s sister and his best friend hoseok who sniff around each other for years before finally giving in. so good!
Hi! Thank you for the rec, we’ll add it to the masterlist!
Posting this lil idea here first. It's far from done - I need to rewatch the titty twister/temple eps to make sure I've got it all right.
SethKate Soulmate AU reimagining of the show. Older man/younger woman; red string of fate; alcohol/drug use; Mostly canon compliant; Angst and fluff and smut; angst with a happy ending
I’ll tell y'all something: I don’t normally like rehashing canon and going over the same scenes that have already happened, and I don't usually like reading about it, either. AND YET. Here we are. This was begging me to write it, and who am I to deny the muses?
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Bloom
She marvels that whatever eventually comes out of her mouth, no matter how many times she changes it in her head, no matter what she finally chooses…whatever she says will be on that man’s body somewhere. The very thought gives her chills.
And it is inevitable. She felt the mark burn the minute he closed his mouth, the second he was done uttering those damning words. She wonders what it looks like now; tiny, hideous buds of some secret flower furled in their little shells, waiting, with the patience of death itself, to come into bloom.
They’ve been there since birth, the words on her skin. Permanent and unchanging, bright and clear on her forearm: Time’s up, princess. Ominous or reassuring, she’s never been certain. It isn’t Kyle; it never will be. But regardless of whoever she’s got waiting for her down the line, she knows one thing: it’s God’s will.
Six months and one road trip to Hell later, she’s not so sure she even believes in God anymore. How could a loving, benevolent Father have let her family die, let such unnatural creatures walk the earth?
And why, why for the love of all that was holy, would he ever intend her for a man like Seth Gecko?
And I loved her, all of her,
For how i watched her crawl
Beneath my skin and into my
Soul. and I loved her, all of
Her, for how she would glide
Over my dark fields and leave
Trails of roses left to grow.
And I loved her, all of her,
For how she devoured me whole
And made sense of all my bones.
But most of all, I loved her,
All of her, for healing my
Pieces and guiding them all
Back home.
-rm drake
“Come on out, Kate, no point in putting off the inevitable.”
Richie’s voice calls from outside the bathroom door. Kate fumbles at the zipper of her jeans. She’s trying, but her fingers shake so badly she can barely get a hold of anything properly. Fear is an ice-cold fist in her gut; her thoughts are turning themselves in circles. How could this be happening? Who are these men? And why them, why her family? This is something that happens in the movies, not real life.
Eventually she gets the pants situated, wiping her hands down her thighs to get rid of the clammy sweat that’s overtaken her. She looks up into the mirror, into green eyes with pupils shrunken to pinpricks. Tries to swallow, once, twice before it finally works; her mouth and throat are bone dry.
She reaches with trembling fingers for the lock, fumbling for a moment before managing to open it. As it swings open she shrugs into her plaid overshirt, pulling the sleeves down past her fingertips out of habit. The words mean less than nothing, right now, but she can’t help but want to protect that part of herself from these men. Time’s up, Princess, she thinks wanly. And it is. It is.
“Do you, Daddy? Really?”
“Kate, what the hell,” Scott hisses, but the other man, the older one, is speaking now, and she ignores Scott in favor of obeying the man with the gun.
Despite her current feelings towards her Daddy, she can barely stand to watch him go. At least he’s going alone, without a gun at his back. She takes a seat over at the table by the window, folding her hands demurely in her lap. She’ll be a good little hostage, if only for her family’s sake. It’s not like she’s got any kind of superpowers or hidden abilities that will magically get her out of this mess.
Scott and Richie are next, and she’s left with the leader - with Seth. It’s what she heard Richie call him. Richie, that freak that was currently with her little brother. She feels herself heat all over at the thought of the things she’d told him. God, Kate, sure, just blab your deepest darkest secrets to the first cute guy that looks your way! That’s not shallow or desperate at all!
Kyle barely figures into her thoughts; how could he, right now, with so much going on?
Absently she rubs at her wrist, where her mark sits. No, Kyle doesn’t get too much of her time these days, and after yesterday? Screw you, Kyle, she thinks vindictively, and that’s the last she thinks of him for a very long time.
Then she realizes something: she’s barefoot. She’s been running her feet along the carpet, back and forth, the whole time she’s been sitting there. With a little sigh, she reaches down, picking them up from where she had placed them under the table.
As she’s tugging them on she can feel the shift in the man’s focus; he’s watching her now. He’s intense, but in a different way than Richie, who seems to have a few screws loose. This guy likes control, likes power; it’s clear he gets off on it. Whatever his deal is, he’s just as terrifying as his brother.
Obstinately, she makes a meal of tying her shoes, making sure the loops are nice and even, the tongues fully out. She hears him sigh as he watches her. “Oh-kay,” he mutters, as if to himself. Then he clears his throat to get her attention.
“Time’s up, Princess. I think you’ve got ‘em good and tied.”
What.
Her brain. Stalls.
Everything else- her breath, her body, her heart - freezes as well. She doesn’t move from her position bent over her shoes, lips and fingers gone numb. The laces sit pathetically in her limp grasp. Distantly, she feels a dull, burning sensation begin on her inner right wrist.
“Hey, kid, I'm talking to you.”
She jerks back to life at the proximity of his voice. He sounds closer now, and then she sees the tips of his shoes appear in her line of vision. That, more than anything, animates her, and slowly, agonizingly, she sits back up. To her horror, she can feel tears threatening behind her eyelids. She blinks them away frantically. She is not going to cry in front of him.
When she sits up, he nods, twitching the gun towards her. “Good girl.”
Something in her stomach twists painfully. This can’t be happening. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe this is just one of those lucid dreams she’s heard of. Based on her life lately, Mama dying, Daddy guilty of something she’s afraid to put words to - it’s likely she’s cooked up this little fantasy all in her head.
Except. She can’t escape the burning, pinching feeling on her forearm. Something is growing there, she knows with this with a dreadful, all-encompassing certainty. Something damning and repulsive. She couldn’t make this up if she tried.
She can still feel his eyes on her; her skin crawls with the familiarity she feels imbued behind the weight of his gaze. It’s so wrong, it’s - it’s all wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.
She was supposed to go to college. Maybe she’d drop her pen in one of her classes, and some handsome coed in front of her would turn around and pick it up for her, smiling a dimpled smile. The test would just have ended, but she’d take it back from him with a smile and she’d try to scribble in just one more answer, and he’d say -
That dream is dust, now. For I eat ashes as my food, and mingle my drink with tears, she thinks dully. The taste of them coat her tongue.
Her wrist still throbs.
He’s talking to her again, completely unaware of the monumental paradigm shift he’s just set off within her. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to shake off the shock. He. Has. A. Gun. Idiot. She reminds herself savagely. She can’t afford to lose track of anything he says or does. It’s not only her life she’s playing with, now. She has to think of her family.
Oh, God, what would Daddy have to say about all this?
Then she reminds herself that she doesn’t much care what her Daddy thinks at the moment. He may or may not have caused her Mama’s death, and she can’t forget that. She won’t forget that.
But he’s still talking to her. “Did…my brother didn’t," he hesitates, sounding oddly unsettled, "do anything to you, did he?”
That’s…not what she was expecting. Slowly, she shakes her head, eyes rising to meet his.
They’re dark, with thick, fluttery lashes and equally dark, heavy brows. Right now they’re creased in what might be concern, if it were anybody else. There’s something in her, some insidious little voice, telling her to soothe it, to tell him she’s alright. But she can’t speak. If she does, he’ll know. The mark will burn, and bloom, and everything will be in ruins.
She marvels that whatever eventually comes out of her mouth, no matter how many times she changes it in her head, no matter what she eventually chooses…whatever she says will be on that man’s body somewhere. The very thought gives her chills.
And it is inevitable. She felt the mark burn the minute he closed his mouth, the second he was done uttering those damning words. She wonders what it looks like now; tiny, hideous buds of some secret flower furled in their little shells, waiting, with the patience of death itself, to come into bloom.
“Alright,” he says, checking his watch, “showtime.” Then he looks up at her; she can see him from the corner of one eye. “Hey, look at me,” and his voice is gentler than she was expecting; not cruel or demanding, but almost entreating.
So she looks, doing her best not to flinch. “Just remember, you do what I say and when, and you’ll get outta this, no bumps or scrapes. Okay?”
Again, she nods, watching his face. He gestures at her, gun held loosely in his fist, and she gets up, goes to the door, the strap of her backpack held in a deathgrip.
He blows out a hard breath through his nose. “Alright, he mutters, and puts the hand with the gun against her back; she can feel the cold of the barrel seep through her layers of clothes, and tries not to shudder. “Here goes nothin'."
IS THIS ANYTHING??
Dividers credited to @saradika-graphics ❤️
Moodboard designed by me (not my graphics; found on Pinterest)
Kate Fuller/Seth Gecko; Soulmate AU; angst and fluff and smut; angst with a happy ending; older man/younger woman; HEA; canon compliant; to a certain extent!; red string of fate; drug use; alcohol use
This is a first draft, so apologies if there's any mistakes or if it seems choppy. I'm just posting snippets, for now.
She marvels that whatever eventually comes out of her mouth, no matter how many times she changes it in her head, no matter what she finally chooses…whatever she says will be on that man’s body somewhere. The very thought gives her chills.
And it is inevitable. She felt the mark burn the minute he closed his mouth, the second he was done uttering those damning words. She wonders what it looks like now; tiny, hideous buds of some secret flower furled in their little shells, waiting, with the patience of death itself, to come into bloom.
Part One
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Bloom pt.2
When she spots the Ranger, she freezes again. Everything, the wind, her own breath, the beating of her heart, all slows to a crawl. From out the corner of her eye, Seth moves, stepping out of the doorway into the Ranger’s view.
And then time starts moving at breakneck speed; Seth’s scooping her up in one arm, hauling her up against him, and for the most terrifying, hysterical moment she thinks he means to put her out in front of him as a shield.
But he doesn’t. What he does is swing her out to one side, still flush against him, and she scrambles frantically for his arm to keep herself upright, otherwise she feels as if she’ll go careening away into freefall.
Gunfire; her ears feel as if they’ll never stop ringing. They dive back through the door they just came through, and he pushes her into one corner, placing himself in front of her, an arm across her chest. “Just stay put and do what I say, remember? No bumps or scrapes.”
She gives a frantic, jerky nod, still not daring to say anything. The only thing that crosses her mind, in the moment, is that he’s put her behind him again. There’s something off about this, but beyond that, she can’t think. There’s no room for error here; he’s seriously on edge and trigger-happy, and one wrong move could result in her very untimely demise.
Distantly she can hear more gunfire, steadily moving closer. Then, without warning, one long leg careens through the busted-open door to their left, and there stands Richie, own pistol brandished and ready to use.
“Goddammit, Richard, do you want a cap in your ass? Next time fucking knock or something. Would go a long way towards your not getting shot.”
Richie ignores this. “RVs been moved around back, it’s ready to go.”
“It’s what? Why?”
“Just trust me, brother. I know what I’m doing.”
“Jesus Christ, Richard.”
Then everything is moving loud and in fast-forward, and before she realizes it, Richie is scooping her under his arm and hauling her away from Seth as he fires back at the Ranger.
One more bang, and then comes the blood, misting pink in the air. She screams, shrill, panicking. Not him, please not him.
She doesn’t have time to process what she’s thinking, simply reacts to whatever Richie is telling her to do, moving on autopilot. Everything inside her is screaming to run back, to see if Seth -
Her thoughts are broken and scattered and mean nothing. Later, she’ll resent them for what they are - the soulmate bond doing its job. As far as she can tell, they got that part of the lore correct, though it’s been disputed, just like everything else about it. No one can seem to decide on any one theory as one hundred percent canonical.
Yet the bond hasn’t been sealed. It’s still one-sided, laying open like a circle that forgot to grasp the other end. And she. Can’t do it. She can’t speak to him, or it will all be over. Her life as she knows it has already been turned ass over teakettle, as her uncle likes to say. To close the circuit would be - she can’t fathom it.
So why it should already be working its will, she couldn’t say. It’s already trying to drag her, kicking and screaming, towards him. The thought makes her almost ill. Something inside of her, some unknown entity, stirring from its lifelong slumber, activated by three innocuous words - yes, something foreign is inside of her right now, making her think and feel things she never could have before. It’s the soulmate bond. It’s got to be.
Does she even want him to live?
The thought shocks her into stillness. Of course, she thinks to herself. Of course, she doesn’t want anyone to die. What a horrible thought.
Still. She probes at her own thoughts, wondering, turning them over. If he were dead…if he were gone…would Richie leave them, to avenge his brother? Most likely, from the little she’s seen of him. He seems the type; he’s completely off his rocker.
Or - and this truly terrifies her - would he blame her family? Would he avenge Seth by killing them off, one by one, horribly, slowly, painfully? Or would it just be a bullet, swift and brutal? She shudders. She doesn’t like the path she’s headed down in her head, so she attempts to focus on something other than - than her soulmate, what an insane thing to be able to say - dying.
Not to mention the chill it leaves in her gut, at the thought of it. The immediate repulsion she feels at thinking it. He can’t, she thinks, trying not to panic.
So she focuses instead on where Richie is. Up front, talking to their Daddy in low, threatening tones. Ok, so now she knows where the danger is. Now, Scott.
He’s sitting tense and still next to her, eyes on Richie’s back, the same as her. Probably doing the same thing; watching for the more, immediate danger should things go South.
The gunfire has ceased, which is…worrying. Who won? The good guys or the bad? And does that make her family bad guys, too? Surely not.
Out of nowhere, there’s a resounding thump on the roof of the RV. She and Scott both flinch, looking up. Footsteps, grunts, and the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh. Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me, she thinks distantly.
Then there’s a stretched pause in which everyone seems to hold their breath. Then she hears it: a rap at the back of the RV. She tries not to let her relief show. Relief! At the thought that their kidnapper made it safely back to them.
This soulmate thing is going to drive her crazy, she just knows it.
Seth eventually crawls in through the cracked-open door, slamming it behind him in obvious relief.
“Told you,” says Richie, smugly.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a fucking genius,” says Seth rather breathlessly. He swivels, taking in the position of everyone. “Everything copacetic here?”
“Running smooth and right on schedule.”
They lean in closer, speaking in low voices that Kate can’t quite make out. But they both seem satisfied by the exchange, and to her relief, it’s Seth that goes to keep her father company. The less contact she has with him, the better, she tells herself. Richie takes a seat in front of them, gun held loosely on the table.
Sometime later, she’s not sure how much, she’s rubbing her arm again. It still itches, though not as much. She wonders what it looks like now. That’s when she has an idea.
“I need to use the restroom,” she says softly to Richie, using her big, limpid eye routine.
He shrugs, “Sure,” and stands to walk her over to the door. “Don’t take too long,” he warns her, but there’s no real heat behind his words. They’ve been making somewhat polite, stilted conversation - after Scott was done antagonizing him, of course - and she’s grateful that they’ve managed to keep the peace for this long. She has no real idea how long this trip from Hell is going to take, and it would go much more smoothly if everyone could just be cool.
She ducks into the bathroom, unsure whether to lock it behind her. He didn’t say she couldn’t, but she’s too nervous to attempt it, so she doesn’t. She doesn’t really care how that looks.
Ok. Moment of truth, Katie. Holding her breath, she slowly slides her overshirt off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She raises her right forearm. Pulls up the sleeve of her blouse. Looks. And feels something in her chest constrict painfully.
Thorns. They’re short little nubs at this point, twining delicately around her words, but it’s obvious that’s what they are. In the corner, at the end of Princess, there’s a single, tiny, furled bud. Just one.
Roses? She thinks wildly. Roses. Fucking. Roses. It has to be. She can't think of any other flower that has thorns at the moment. She wonders what color it will be. Oh, Lord, anything but red. She knows what red means. She’s read up on soulmate marks over the years, knows there’s all kinds of plants that could bloom, not just flowers. Knows they all mean something different, that their different colors also have their own meaning. For her thirteenth birthday, her Mama had given her a book on Victorian flower meanings, that she’d read until the spine cracked in two and fell apart.
And roses…well. Their colors all signify something different, but the main one? It’s unthinkable. Impossible. The mere thought that she could - that he could -
Her head is spinning. You can’t think about this right now, she tells herself frantically. You can’t let this distract you. You’re in danger, you airhead. This isn’t the time to start swooning over flowers and dangerous men with guns. This isn’t a cheap paperback novel.
She’s read plenty of them; bodice rippers, her mama had called them with a giggle. Trashy soulmate romance novels that she’d hidden in the back of her closet, about dangerous, lone-wolf men that met their soulmate, usually some sort of damsel in distress type, and were somehow magically changed for the better through the power of True Love.
She feels bile rise in the back of her throat; her nostrils sting with it. This isn’t it, Kate, she reminds herself forcefully. This is real life. Stuff like that just doesn’t happen.
Like getting kidnapped at gunpoint? A little voice in the back of her head whispers. Like finding out your soulmate is actually your kidnapper? ‘Cause that’s not something that would ever happen in one of your books, it continues derisively.
Oh, God, she’s going to puke.
Kate has to swallow several times to force it back down, trembling hands pressed to her face to stymie the tears. She thinks about praying, but it’s too much right now. She can’t find the right words. Help me, Lord. That’s all she has in her. It’ll have to do, for now.
She sucks down a few shaky breaths, willing herself back to some semblance of calm, and picks her flannel shirt back up, slipping it on, making sure the sleeves are pushed down all the way. She barely remembers to flush, and runs the water for a moment. Then she slips from the bathroom, not looking at Richie, who looks as if he’s been standing there the whole time. Embarrassing much? She’s glad she didn’t actually have to go.
Scott glances at her as she takes her seat. “You good?” He mutters to her, as Richie also sits, gun once more pointed in their general direction.
She must still look somewhat distraught, because Richie cocks his head at her, waiting for her to answer. She nods, not quite trusting her voice, and manages a small smile in her brother’s direction. She wraps her arms around her middle almost absently, tucking her right arm underneath the left, clutching at it protectively.
But now she sees, from the corner of her eye, Richie’s brows furrow. He’s staring at her, and he’s got that look on his face she remembers from the pool, when he’d talked about her Mama.
Oh, oh no. Not now. He can’t possibly know anything’s wrong, can he? There’s no way he can know.
Richie’s eyes narrow, and he leans forward, gun seemingly forgotten. He opens his mouth, but Kate beats him to it.
“I started my period, okay?” She snaps in a low voice, shunting a look to her brother. As she thought he would, he makes a face, and leans back in his seat. In front of her, Richie’s brows shoot up, but he just nods, reclining as well, looking satisfied.
Kate takes a slow, steadying breath, and tries to look discomfited. It’s not hard. She tightens her arms around herself and ducks her head, thinking of the blossoming mark on her arm, and the color of roses.
