Guys... Huening Kai.. Guys... Guys

Guys... Huening Kai.. guys... guys

Hi cee 😽😽 how’re you??

Hi Lua! I'm doing okay, how are you? Happy new year, in advance or belated hehe <3

Uncanny.

mafia dad jjun who's just as protective n possessive of his nanny as he is of his daughters :3

oomf this took me so long and yet it could be so much better ><

Mafia dad Yeonjun is very picky about who looks after his children. When he finds the perfect nanny, perfect in both the hours you're willing to work and for his children's needs and preferences, he pays well. He buys you a separate phone for communicating with him—just a precaution to ensure the safety of both his kids and their nanny.

He hears so much about you from his two girls who rave about you all the time that he feels as though he knows you, in some small way, before he has the time to get to know you. Eventually, when he gets the time to come home early while you're still up, the two of you talk over drinks in the kitchen. Slowly you begin to get to know each other in the flesh.

Yeonjun comes home to find the house quiet, kids put to bed already. He comes across the nanny at the kitchen table, fallen asleep while reading, and he can't help the warm smile that breaks over his face. Gently, he wakes you up and sends you to bed.

It's not long, maybe a year, until Yeonjun starts to consider you as part of the family just as his girls do. It feels natural, like a no-brainer. You're flustered when you spot a present wrapped and under the tree with your name on it that Christmas. Yeonjun's eyes and smile beam as you bumble on about how he shouldn't have.

There's one small incident wherein Yeonjun tags along on the weekly grocery shop, lifting his daughters into the cart and pushing it along happily through the aisles of produce behind you. It's quite a good system: you find the things on the list, Yeonjun takes them from the shelf and gives it to the girls who put it in the cart—perfect teamwork.

He feels so at ease, doing these mundane things with his little family. It's nice to feel as though his family is more complete again, though it's not in the traditional sense.

But all too soon, there's a phone call that he can't ignore, his blood pumping to high alert when he hears the news from his informant. He doesn't explain anything when he hangs up the phone— he can't, not here and not now—just deposits his cell into his pocket and grabs his kids. He passes the younger and lighter of his girls to you while he takes the oldest, abandoning the cart of groceries and ushering you of the shop through the entrance door.

He drives for hours until the sun has gone and darkness falls. It's only when he pulls up and parks in front of a secluded house in the middle of what feels like nowhere that he breathes easily again. The kids are asleep in the back seat and have been for a while, but you haven't asked any questions. His eyes, no longer frantic, turn to you in the darkness. He looks depleted. You can tell he has something to say, but before he can speak, you're unbuckling your seatbelt and nodding towards the children. Together, you carry the sleeping girls up to a bedroom that looks to be meant for them but yet to be used.

In the kitchen, Yeonjun unravels. He pulls you into him, the first real intimate physical contact you've had, and you feel the tension vacate his body. He sits you down and tells you everything—the full extent of his job and what he's really involved in, which he hadn't filled you in on except the bare bones of what needed to be known, the phone call, the danger. He tells you that if you want to quit, he'll understand, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes at the thought of you doing so.

He looks up as you place your hand over his, and you take the opportunity to lean in and press a tentative kiss to his lips. He cradles the back of your head, so gentle as if he doesn't want to break you but enough to keep you there so he can return the kiss, all his emotion expressed through this one action. When you part to catch your breath, you tell him you can't leave. Not when you've finally found somewhere, someone, who feels so much like home.

I'm not sure who this is about, since the poll hasn't finished. I was envisioning Yeonjun as I wrote it, but you can read it as whoever you like :) side note, thanks to aura whose work I was reading when inspiration struck!

trigger warning: angst?

"Don't marry him."

The world seems to shake as the words fall from his lips. It feels as though your heart comes to a screeching stop and drops into your stomach with a thud.

"What?"

"Please," he's saying before you've even finished forming the word.

His eyes are so sorrowful, and you're not sure if it's guilt or sincerity. Your head begins to throb as you catch up to reality. A few steps and he's in reach of you, reaching to cup your face between his hands as he looks down at you. His eyes dart between your own, trying to trace the look in them back to one single emotion. But even you don't know what you feel as you wordlessly shake your head as though the action could clear it.

"I..." you splutter, and his eyebrows tick upward, waiting for the rest of your reply, but it doesn't come. It feels like time might have stopped inside this room.

"I love you."

It sounds like the most matter of fact statement in the world. It sounds like waves crashing and the wind picking up and the first bird song of the day. So why does it feel so wrong?

"Why?"

You can feel the warmth of your own cheeks radiating back to you from the skin of his hands. The emotions you can't name are beginning to bubble up like lava in your belly, too many to name.

"'Why?'" he repeats, confusion clouding his brow with lines.

You wish you could silence the noise inside your mind. Thousands of words and questions and scenarios battering round and round inside your head, too loud.

"Why now? Wh- why are you telling me this now?"

You see the way he bites the inside of his cheek before he speaks, a nervous habit he's always had. "Because... I can't lose you."

The lava forms a name: Anger.

Instinctively, you pull your face from his hands, moving half a step back from him. "You're ruining everything... because you're jealous?"

"It's- I'm not jealous." His hands hang dumbly at his sides now. He looks hurt—by your words or by the way you've separated yourself from him, you're not sure. "Didn't you hear me? I love you."

Blinking back hot tears, you shake your head again. You refuse to believe it. Somewhere in the molten pool inside you swirls grief for what could have been if his words are true, and it's too much to bear.

"If you loved me, you could have told me. You had so many years to make your feelings known." You breathe sharply, something catching in your throat. "You just don't want me to have something that you don't."

The expression his face dissolves into makes your heart hurt tenfold. Maybe you were reading this whole thing wrong. But it's too late now; you're too proud to take it back or stay to hear another word. With one last look at your best friend and his pitiful glassy eyes, you turn and make a swift exit, finally allowing the tears to make their own escape. They taste of loss and regret.

warnings: drunkenness, mentions of kissing, one use of sh*t

"Please leave a message after the tone."

Listen... baby... He's drunk. He may be more drunk than you've ever known him to be. I know- I know it's too late, but you know I have to try because... A deep sigh. Because I can't lose you, okay? I know I already did, and it's killing me, baby. I... baby? Why won't you say something? Oh, right. Damn, I miss you so much. I miss your voice. I miss the way you'd be counting down before the countdown just to make sure we were together, and there was no way we'd miss out on our New Year's kiss. He chuckles, the sound turning into a scoff at the end. I wonder who you're kissing now. I just- I know you said that I just don't want to be alone, but... but it's not true. It's you. It's only you that I want to see right now, all the time. Believe me, there's a party full of people in the next room, girls who would be climbing all over me- no... no, I didn't mean that- shit. He's silent for a moment. I love you. I love you, and I would do anything for you to please just give me one more chance, I-

"Voicemail box full."

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form