#I have to get up at like 5 so I can be ready and get there by 620

[ja3yun]

Our Life | P.JS

jay x reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cum plugging, oral (f.rec), major theme of death and grievance, character death, mentions of alcoholism (very slight, not for mcs), descriptions of pregnancy and birth, strangers to married couple trope, insane amount of fluff, verging on soulmate au, hopeful ending even though it's sorrowful, some parts not proof read, anything else lmk! wc: 34.8k synopsis: one year after his wife passed away, jongseong reflects back on his life, causing him to miss you more than ever a/n: hi! writing this jay fic has come at a really funny time in my life. it's just a fic, i know, but for some reason i'm writing it so personally - a lot of this has to do with me or how i view things, the relationships i have had with my loved ones etc. this fic is the manifestation of the love i want and love i hope everyone experiences. i know we all deserve to have someone care about us so much that we feel safe and cherished. you deserve to be happy, i hope we all find that person. as always, reblogs, comments and feedback is all welcome! i also cried like 5 times writing this so...be warned.

*this fic has serious themes of death, please do not read if this upsets you or makes you uncomfortable! nothing is murder and nothing is violent, but i understand this theme can be upsetting for people!

As Jongseong hears the door of his house gently push open, he can already hear the familiar sound of tiny feet racing towards him. Moments later, the littlest one, Minji, bursts into the room, her laughter bubbling over as she makes a beeline for her great-grandfather.

“Poppy!” she cries, her small arms already outstretched, launching herself into his lap. Thankfully, Jongseong is seated in his favourite recliner so that helps him catch her. A warm smile plasters on his face, ready for her joyful embrace. Minji, at just five years old, is a whirlwind of energy, always eager to shower her great-grandfather with affection. She’s a bundle of life that never fails to brighten the room.

Minhee, her older brother, is a little more restrained. At nearly eleven years old, he’s beginning to see himself as too grown-up for such open displays of affection, though Jongseong catches the fond glint in his eyes. Minhee hovers near the door, perhaps torn between maintaining his cool exterior and giving in to the pull of family warmth.

The children call him “Poppy,” a sweet nickname coined by their mother, Ara, when she was a child. Grandad and Poppa had apparently been too much of a mouthful for her, and the name stuck through the generations. Jongseong smiles to himself, recalling how it all began.

As he waits for Ara to follow them in, Jongseong is pleasantly surprised when Jeyou steps through the door instead. His son, of course, a father himself, offers him a smile that’s full of love and history. Jongseong’s eyes twinkle as Jeyou enters, taking in the sight of his son with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. So many years had passed, and yet, in moments like this, they seemed to collapse in on themselves, leaving just the simple pleasure of being surrounded by family.

And this day a little more bearable.

"Got yourself a couple of shadows today, haven’t you, Dad?" Jeyou says, glancing at Minji who has made herself comfortable on her great-grandfather’s lap, her head tucked under his chin.

"Ah, wouldn’t have it any other way," Jongseong replies, his voice low but full of warmth. He places a gentle hand on Minji’s back, feeling her soft breathing as she calms down from her excited entrance. "Though, I expect you’ll be getting the same treatment soon enough with your old age."

Jeyou chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh, she’s all yours for now. Ara’s just grabbing some things from the car, but she’ll be in soon. Couldn’t resist having her kids run ahead."

Jongseong nods. That sounded just like Ara. Always the one to let the children take the lead, full of the same unbridled energy she’d had as a child. Even now, as an adult, she managed to keep that spark.

"Minhee," Jeyou calls, his voice gentle but nudging. "Aren’t you going to say hello to Poppy?"

Minhee hesitates for a moment, then steps forward. His gangly limbs betray his preteen awkwardness as if he's still adjusting to his growing frame. He shuffles over, his eyes on the floor, before glancing up at Jongseong with a shy smile.

"Hey, Poppy," he mumbles, and though his words are quiet, there’s warmth in his gaze.

"Come here, son," Jongseong beckons, and Minhee approaches. He leans down for a brief hug, one that’s a bit stiff but no less genuine. Jongseong pats his great-grandson on the back, feeling the familiar ache in his chest - an ache that comes from seeing the passage of time so vividly in the people you love.

Minhee quickly retreats to the sofa, where he pulls out a book from his rucksack, burying his nose into it as if he hadn’t just shared a tender moment. Jongseong chuckles softly, knowing well that Minhee’s quiet affection is just as real as Minji’s exuberant embrace.

"Just like you at his age," Jongseong remarks to Jeyou.

Jeyou raises an eyebrow. "Was I that shy?"

"Not shy, just...reflective," Jongseong murmured, his gaze softening as memories of Jeyou’s childhood flashed before him. Even as a boy, Jeyou had always been deep in thought, though there had never been a shortage of mischief hiding behind those thoughtful eyes.

But before they could slip too far into the past, the familiar sound of the front door creaking open stirred the present moment. Ara swept in, arms full of bags, her bright smile instantly lighting up the room.

"There’s my favourite man," she called out cheerily, her voice as warm as always. She placed the bags by the door and, in her usual way, let her gaze travel from her children to her father before finally settling on her grandfather. The fondness in her smile deepened as she approached him.

"Hello, Poppy," she said softly, bending down to press a kiss to his cheek. "How are you feeling today?"

Jongseong reached for her hand, his grip gentle but steady. "Better now that you’re all here," he replied, his voice tinged with a quiet sincerity.

Today wasn’t an easy day, and everyone in the room knew it - except for Minji, who was too young to understand the weight the date carried. The family had gathered not just for the usual visit but to offer comfort, to keep his mind occupied. Jongseong had been dreading this day for over a week, the memories from years past creeping into his thoughts, but seeing his loved ones around him made it a little more bearable.

Ara steps back to look around the room, her hands resting on her hips as if surveying a scene she knew by heart. "Right, then. Who’s up for a cup of tea?" she announced, though she didn’t wait for a reply. She already knew her answer.

Disappearing into the kitchen, she busied herself with the kettle, placing three cups in front of her and tossing teabags into each. The familiar clink of porcelain and the hum of the kettle filled the air, blending with the gentle sounds of the family settling in. Jeyou, already feeling at home, sank into the couch, his gaze drifting to his father.

"So," Jeyou began, his tone casual but laced with concern, "has the doctor called you yet about your heart? Your review’s coming up in a few weeks, isn’t it?"

Jongseong let out a soft sigh, not wanting to weigh the room down with his health concerns, but knowing it was pointless to brush it off. "Not yet. They’re supposed to get back to me soon, but you know how these things go."

In his mind, his heart is as fit as a fiddle despite the pieces shattered and medical scans telling him otherwise. Being seventy-six puts him at that age where he doesn’t quite fuss over the little things anymore, knowing that when he starts to go, it’s his time. His family don’t quite see it that way, but they always had a knack for worrying.

They get that from you.

Ara returns from the kitchen with a tray of steaming mugs, setting two on the coffee table and one on the side stroller Jongseong uses as a side table. It’s old and it’s definitely not supposed to be purposed for keeping his things close by, but he does it this way anyway. 

“You’re running low on milk and sugar, Poppy,” she states, smiling softly. It’s not like Jongeong to let things run to the last drop, but she supposes it’s probably the last thing on his mind these days. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Jongseong returns her kind expression and sits comfortably in his chair.

Jeyou’s eyes drift from the steaming tea on the table to the two untouched cups sitting beside it, their contents long gone cold. His gaze then falls on the doset box, where yesterday's and this morning's pills sit neglected in their transparent slots. A dull ache forms in his chest, growing heavier with each passing second. It’s not like his father to forget things like this. Something in his stomach twists - an unsettling feeling that only deepens when he looks over at Jongseong.

His father, seated comfortably in the old recliner, is absentmindedly running his fingers through Minji’s hair, but his expression is distant. His eyes, usually full of life, are clouded, as though he’s drifting somewhere far away. Jeyou knows that look too well, his father isn’t here in this moment, not really. He’s somewhere in the past, locked in thoughts he won’t share with anyone.

"Kids," Jeyou says, his voice firmer than usual, "why don’t you go play outside? It’s too nice for you to stay in here."

Minji, always eager for an adventure, springs from her great-grandfather’s lap and dashes towards the garden, her giggles trailing behind her like sunshine. Minhee lingers a bit longer, his hesitation clear, but a quick glance at his grandfather’s face tells him everything he needs to know. This was one of those moments where the grown-ups needed to talk. With a quiet nod, Minhee follows his sister outside, leaving the room heavy with unspoken words.

Jeyou scoots forward on the couch, his hands clasped tightly, his heart feeling as if it’s weighed down by a stone. "Dad," he begins, his voice thick with concern, "are you sure you’re looking after yourself?"

As expected, Jongseong forces out a laugh, the sound strained and far from genuine. "Of course I am. What kind of question is that?" He waves his hand dismissively, as if brushing away his son’s worry could somehow make it disappear. But Jeyou can see the cracks in his father’s defences, no matter how hard he tries to hide them.

Ara steps in before Jeyou can push further, her eyes soft but her tone direct. "You look really tired, Poppy," she says, careful not to let too much of her worry spill into her words. She doesn’t mention the state of the kitchen, though it’s hard to ignore. The counters are cluttered with dirty dishes, empty food wrappers, and crumpled paper towels. It’s a far cry from the meticulous space Jongseong used to keep, everything in its place, nothing left unattended. His once-pristine kitchen now looks like it’s seen better days, like he’s given up on keeping it tidy.

And his appearance - Ara notices that too. His hair, usually slicked back with the neatness he always took pride in, now lies flat and lifeless, as though he hadn’t bothered with it at all. Even his clothes seem carelessly thrown on, lacking the care he once put into his daily routines.

"I’m okay, I promise," Jongseong says, offering a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But they all know better. He’s far from okay, and they can see it in every little detail. His body may be failing, but it’s his spirit that seems most worn down. And that’s not something any doctor could fix with medication or surgery.

Jeyou sighs, the weight of his father’s stubbornness pressing down on him. He knows how difficult it is for Jongseong to open up, especially about something as delicate as his feelings. "Dad, I know it must be tough on you today, with Mum’s anniversary," Jeyou says softly, his voice cracking slightly at the mention of her, "but please, don’t neglect yourself. We need you here. We can’t lose you too."

The room falls silent, the air thick with unsaid things. Jongseong’s face twitches for just a moment at the mention of his late wife, and Ara, sitting by her father’s side, silently curses him with a sharp nudge to his ribs. Her eyes flicker with disapproval, not wanting to mention you so blatantly.

With his smile faltering, Jongseong’s eyes begin glazing over once more as he looks away, as though staring too long into his children’s worried faces might break him. "I’m alright," he murmurs again, softer this time, but no one in the room believes him.

It has been a year since you passed, and while it was easy to put on a brave face for months, something about knowing he has been without you for one entire year puts him in misery, the same misery he felt the day he found you laying on your shared bed, last gasps of breath already evacuated from your body.

jongseong’s heart, once full of love and purpose, now feels unbearably heavy without you. It’s not just the grief that weighs him down - it’s the love. A love that has nowhere to go, nothing to cling to. For over fifty years, his heart beat with the rhythm of your shared life, the quiet moments and laughter you wove into the years together. 

Now, without you, all that love is left to pool within him, filling the empty spaces with a bittersweet ache. He still wakes up wanting to tell you things, still reaches out for you in the night, only to be met with silence. That love, the part of him that was always meant for you, has no place to rest, and he feels its weight with every breath he takes.

He escapes to the past these days, just for the opportunity to see you again.

_____

The party is loud, an overwhelming hum of voices, music, and laughter blending together in a way that makes it impossible to think. The flat is small, much too small to hold the crowd that’s somehow crammed into every corner. 

People from all different majors are squeezed into the living room, the hallway, and even the tiny kitchen, balancing Tesco plastic cups on the edge of counters and bookshelves. It feels like the walls are closing in, the air thick with the smell of cheap alcohol and the heat of too many bodies in one space. Jongseong shifts uncomfortably, standing near the wall with his back pressed to it, hoping to stay out of the chaotic flow of people moving past him.

His friend, Sunghoon, is in his element, leaning over to chat with two girls from the science department. Jongseong can hear snippets of Sunghoon’s conversation - something about biology and "how easy it must be to share a dorm with a future doctor." Jongseong knows what his friend’s after. It’s the same for every party. Sunghoon is smooth-talking his way through the night, hoping to fuck one - or both - of the girls before the party winds down. Jongseong can't help but feel a sense of detachment from it all, wishing he were anywhere but here.

He glances down at his drink, swirling the last bit of beer in his cup, realising he hasn’t even taken a sip in the last half-hour. The music pounds in his ears and the conversations around him blur into a noise that grates against his thoughts. Everyone seems so eager to lose themselves in the moment, but all Jongseong can think about is how out of place he feels, like he’s in someone else’s world.

And then his eyes land on you.

Seated on the worn couch at the far end of the room, you look just as lost as he feels. Your shoulders are hunched slightly, arms folded across your chest, eyes scanning the room with a quiet detachment. It’s like you’re here, but not really. The party swirls around you, but you sit untouched by its chaos. There’s something familiar in the way your gaze drifts, a softness in the way you carry yourself, as if you’re silently wishing to be anywhere else, just like him. 

His heart skips, the noise of the party fading just a little as he watches you, wondering why on earth you are here, or where you even came from. He’s been dragged to enough of these house parties to recognise almost everyone; it’s always the same crowd of wasted university students, all looking for a cheap night and a place to get fucked up.

You shift slightly on the couch, adjusting your position as if you’re trying to get comfortable but failing. The small movement is enough to stir something in Jongseong, a quiet push that breaks through his hesitation of going over to speak with you. He pushes off the wall, weaving through the crowd, his gaze never leaving you. Each step brings him closer to you and further from the loud, chaotic energy around him.

When he finally reaches the couch, Jongseong stands there, smiling down at you. Up close, he notices the small details about you - the way your eyes are slightly glazed over like you're staring through the crowd rather than at it. Your posture is relaxed, like someone who's given up on finding anything remotely interesting in this chaotic scene. You’re lazily twirling a strand of hair around your finger, your other hand drumming absentmindedly on the armrest, and every so often, you let out a quiet sigh. It’s clear you’re bored, as if you're here out of obligation or maybe even on a dare, but definitely not because you're enjoying it.

Jongseong wonders for a moment if approaching you is the right move. Maybe you're waiting for someone, or maybe you'd rather just be left alone to your boredom. But he’s already here, and backing out now would be even more awkward. Besides, there’s a part of him that thinks you might welcome the distraction.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but just loud enough to be heard over the music. He gives you a small, tentative smile, trying to convey that he’s not like the other loser men at this party, that he’s not here to make your night more unbearable. “Is that seat taken?”

The sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts, startling you for a split second before your eyes lock onto his face. And what a beautiful face it is. His sharp jawline, soft eyes, and the hint of smile lines add to his handsomeness. The dyed white hair that’s slicked back to showcase his fresh undercut makes your mouth dry, then water just a little as you catch yourself staring.

Shaking off the daze his looks have put you in, you nod your head and smile. “Actually, my friend, Imaginary, is sitting right here,” you joke, patting the seat next to you lightly, “but I think she might move for you.”

Jongseong smirks, charmed by your wit, and takes a seat, spreading his legs just enough that his knee brushes yours. A subtle, intentional move that sends a tiny jolt of awareness through you. The music pounds around you, and the room vibrates with the beat, but here, with him so close, it feels like you’re in a different world - a bubble separate from the chaos.

"Are you new?" he asks, his voice carrying a warmth that cuts through the cold disinterest of the party.

"No, but I don't normally come to parties like this," you admit, glancing around the crowded room.

"Why not?" His eyes stay on you, curious, almost as if he’s trying to decipher the puzzle of who you are. There is something so intriguing about you, his soul suddenly ignited by even the prospect of knowing you.

You gesture around you with a slight roll of your eyes. "Lots of drunk people with egos even though they're only uni kids? Not exactly my favourite." The words drip with sarcasm, your disdain evident in the flatness of your tone. You can’t think of anywhere worse than this - people stumbling around, half-shouted conversations about nothing of substance, the smell of stale beer and sweat hanging thick in the air. It’s a headache in the making, a mess of too much noise and not enough space, a place where everything blurs into a haze of chaos and bad decisions. You’d rather be anywhere else, where people know how to handle themselves without being obnoxious, where the air is fresh and the conversations have weight.

Your answer earns a snicker from Jongseong. He ducks his head, a smile playing on his lips, and for a moment, he looks genuinely amused - like he’s found a hidden gem amidst all the nonsense around him. He takes a second to soak it in, feeling something light and warm settle in his chest. 

When he glances back up at you, there’s a brightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. "Okay, let me ask you another question, then - why are you here?" he asks, his tone playful but curious, like he’s genuinely invested in peeling back the layers of who you are. 

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. "I'm gonna have to start charging you for all these questions, y’know." There’s a teasing edge in your voice, but underneath it, there’s also a spark - something alive and electric, something that catches Jongseong off guard, a flicker in his heart.

He laughs softly, nodding along with a look that says he’s enjoying this more than he thought he would. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t just play along with the usual small talk but actually pushes back a little, makes him work for it. He hadn’t expected you to have so much spunk and confidence from just watching you sit there, looking lost in thought. It’s refreshing - a sharp contrast to the superficial conversations that fill the room around him. 

In all honesty, he thought you might have pushed him off, unwilling to even entertain him, never mind willingly try and drag out the conversation with him. That’s what he gets for judging a book by its cover.

"I can pay for a meet-and-greet, don’t worry," he says, his voice low and smooth, proud yet playful. His eyes gleam with a challenge, like he’s throwing down a gauntlet he hopes you’ll pick up. There’s an unspoken dare there, a flirtatious edge that makes your heart skip a beat. It feels like you’re both dancing on the edge of something - something that could tip into something real, something interesting, if either of you is brave enough to take the next step.

“So,” he continues, leaning back slightly, more relaxed now, “why are you here?”

He takes a sip of his drink, and it’s then that he notices you don’t have one. You don’t seem to mind, though, and he doesn’t comment on it, but it strikes him as a little odd. Typically, if someone is having a fuck awful time at a party, they drown themselves in alcohol to let inhabitions go and just pray to God they don’t make a fool of themselves. He knows there has to be a story there, and he can’t wait to uncover it.

"Thought I would check it out. I hear they’re all the rage," you say with a wry smile, clearly feeling the distaste on your tongue. 

Truth is, you’re trying new things this year, pushing your boundaries to help form your character. You’re sick of hearing about all these experiences through the lenses of TikTok videos and Instagram posts from your friends; it’s time to start living out the life you want. Not everything will be your cup of tea - tonight if quite evident of that, you can certainly cross parties off your FOMO list - but there is no harm in trying different things,

“Eh, parties are overrated, if I'm being honest,” he replies, his eyes tracing the features of your face. You’re so beautiful but so fucking familiar. He doesn’t know you, he would remember someone as ethereal as you. But there is part of him that feels you deep inside, as though you’ve rocked something in his soul.

Like you’re placing yourself home in his heart.

"Okay. Then why are you here?" you challenge back, your eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity.

Jongseong leans in a little, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “I hate these parties. Can’t stand how loud and irritating they are. The noise, the drunk people who can't hold their alcohol, the same shallow conversations...” His words trail off as he glances around, his lip curling in mild distaste. “I’ve always been a people person, but…just not these people.”

Sucking your teeth, you nod, agreeing with every last syllable of his sentence. You feel this on another level, but considering he seems to be acquainted with parties enough to dissect and disregard them so easily, you still ponder your question. 

Raising your eyebrows, you silently wait for him to continue.  

“Y’know Sunghoon? The campus heartthrob?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He hates to refer to his best friend as such, but that is literally his title within the university. Sunghoon is notorious for having girls and guys falling at his feet, kissing the ground he walks on because he has been voted Korea’s perfect face three years in a row. Jongseong doesn’t grudge it, he votes for his friend too, and he isn’t blind, he can see how attractive he is.

“Yeah?” you respond, intrigued.

“Well, believe it or not, that beautiful son of a bitch is my best friend.”

Considering the way this boy presents himself, you would have genuinely never guessed that he was friends with someone as high profile as Park  Sunghoon. However, it does explain why, even if he hates the parties, he attends nonetheless. 

You chuckle, your eyes glinting as you begin to steer the conversation in the direction you both want it to sail. “You’re saying that like you aren’t equally as pretty.”

Jongseong flushes, his cheeks dusting a faint pink. The warmth spreads across his face, and he bites back a grin, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. It’s the tiny confirmation he needed to know that you want to flirt with him. That information alone perks his confidence up, although still shy under your flattering observation. He quickly plasters on a teasing smirk, fluttering his lashes dramatically and placing his hand under his chin, wiggling his fingers. “Oh? So you think I’m pretty?”

The scene before you brings out an even bigger laugh from you than earlier, though it’s not mocking or condescending - just pure amusement and joy. It’s infectious, and Jongseong feels his heart swell at the sound. He has the sudden urge to make you laugh like that for a long time, to see that carefree sparkle in your eyes again and again. He doesn’t want to say forever, but his heart is sure screaming it.

“I think you’re pretty, yes,” you say, your smile soft and genuine, your eyes sparkling under the annoying table-side lamp with its harsh white bulb - a stark contrast to the warmth you radiate. The lamp is obnoxious and stupid, casting its ugly, sterile light on everything around it, much like several of the people at this party. But Jongseong can't help but find it almost poetic that it’s illuminating something - or rather, someone - so captivating. 

There’s a sense of irony in how this harsh, artificial light only seems to highlight the genuine softness in your expression, the way you carry yourself with a quiet confidence that makes you stand out without even trying. You shine so brightly, even in a room full of noise and chaos, and Jongseong begins to sense just why he was so drawn to you at first glance.

It’s not as if you’re ‘not like other girls’ or whatever cringe, indie-female-lead syndrome that sounds like. No, it’s that in a room full of people competing to be seen, you’re the only one who Jongseong cares to know about. There’s a magnetism to the way you occupy your space - comfortable in your own skin, bored but not bitter, playful but not insincere. You seem untethered from the superficial games playing out around you, and that’s what makes you different. It’s not that you’re trying to be; it’s that you simply are - at least, in Jongseong’s eyes.

He feels a warmth spread through his chest, a lightness he hasn’t felt for a long time. For a moment, the noise of the party fades, replaced by the sound of your laughter, ringing clear and unforced, like something rare and precious in a place like this. It strikes him then - how easy it would be to just keep listening to that sound, to find ways to make you laugh again, to see how your eyes light up when you’re amused.

“How about we get out of here?” Jongseong suggests, his voice laced with a hint of excitement that he can’t quite hide. “Grab some food, and I’ll walk you home.”

You raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Leaving this place does sound tempting...but here’s the thing, I don’t even know you,” you say, your words playful, though the interest in your eyes betrays how intrigued you really are.

He feels a flicker of embarrassment for not having introduced himself sooner. “Shit, sorry. Let me introduce myself.” He straightens up, setting his cup down with a small, almost sheepish grin. Then, with a playful seriousness that makes you chuckle, he extends his hand, inviting and warm. “I’m Jay, I’m 22 years old, I study music technology, and I’m single.”

You can’t help but smile at his theatrics, mirroring his gesture and placing your hand in his. The warmth of his skin sends a flutter through your stomach, your insides skipping in joy all of a sudden, but you ignore it, focusing instead on the easy banter between you. “My name is Y/N, I am 23 years old, and I am also single,” you reply, your tone matching his playful formality.

His grin widens, a flash of confidence in his eyes. “Sounds like the perfect match, don’t you think?” There’s a charm to him that’s hard to resist, an easy confidence that makes you feel like you’ve known him much longer than just these few minutes.

As you hold his gaze, you find yourself drawn to him in a way that surprises you. It’s not just his looks - though there’s no denying he’s handsome - it’s his energy, his wit, the warmth that radiates from him. Never in your life has someone matched your energy so well. He’s like a breath of fresh air in a space that feels stifling, and it’s intoxicating in a way that no drink here could ever be.

You knew, from that very moment, that you wanted to know more about him, and he knew he was going to marry you one day.

_____

"A treasure hunt?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice as you raise an eyebrow at him.

Jongseong had thought about you nonstop since the moment he walked you home from that party. A few stolen moments in your company, a brief but memorable conversation - it had not been enough. Not nearly enough. It was as if something inside him ignited that night, a quiet but unrelenting fire, burning through his thoughts whenever your face crossed his mind. The way you laughed, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke - it was intoxicating, and he found himself craving more. So much more. 

His friends had noticed too; he wasn’t subtle in the least. Every chance he got, he’d talk about you, about the brief time you two had spent together, already analysing every moment like a lovestruck fool.

And so, he’d come up with this date: a treasure hunt. A way to get to know you, to create an experience that wasn’t just the mundane dinner or movie date. No, this had to be different. You deserved different. Something unique. He’d spent days working out the details, coming up with clues, places, and the perfect way to make this evening special. He wanted you to smile, to laugh, to feel how much thought he had poured into this. 

Jongseong grins, proud of himself, "Yep. Well, sort of. I'm going to give you an envelope, and you're going to figure out the riddle."

Your lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that makes his heart race in a way he’s almost embarrassed to admit. You're used to men putting in the bare minimum. Dinner and a movie, sometimes even just a text at 11 pm, wondering if you were still awake. But this? This is different. He’d thought about this, actually put in effort. A treasure hunt on a first date? It was quirky, yes, but endearing. It makes you wonder if somehow, during that boring party, you found a ruby amongst diamonds. The idea makes your stomach flutter slightly and anticipation build.

"Okay," you tease, holding out your hand, palm up. "Where is this magical envelope with all the answers then?"

"Well..." Jongseong steps closer to you, the air between you buzzing with unspoken tension, playful and light. He pulls the envelope from his suede brown jacket pocket and dangles it just above your open hand. As you reach for it, Jongseong pulls away at the last second, flashing you a mischievous grin.

“Really?” You huff, your voice carrying more amusement than frustration. He’s playing with you, and you can’t deny you enjoy it.

"Not so fast," he says, heart thrumming in his chest so loud because fuck you look so beautiful, he just wants to be as close to you as possible. So, he steps even closer, his body towering over yours. The warmth from his body feels almost tangible, and the playful gleam in his eyes makes your heart stutter. "You have to answer me one question before I give it to you."

You can’t help but roll your eyes, though it’s all in good fun. "So not only do I need to use my brain and solve a puzzle, I also have to divulge personal information? You really know how to get a girl talking."

"Pretty much, yeah." His smile is smug, and you can tell he’s feeling particularly clever about his little scheme. It’s adorable, really. 

"And if I say no?"

"Then this date ends very quickly," he shrugs, feigning nonchalance, though you can tell he’s trying hard to mask his anticipation. He leans in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And you miss out on my meticulously planned adventure."

His words are light, but there’s a subtle undercurrent of vulnerability there. He’s trying to play it cool, but you sense how much he hopes you’ll say yes. That small spark of emotion hidden behind his teasing makes your heart soften just a little more. There’s something so sweet in how much effort he’s putting in, and you can’t help but feel drawn to it. Feel drawn to him.

With a dramatic sigh, you nod, "Fine, what’s the question then?"

Jongseong chuckles, clearly pleased with himself and his persuading manner. "Straight to the point. I like it." He holds the envelope out again, this time a little closer to your palm. "What’s your favourite type of food?"

You pause, considering for a moment before a smile spreads across your face. "Hmm... Italian, or! Caribbean."

He raises an eyebrow at your sudden burst of enthusiasm. "Both?"

"I mean, how could I possibly choose between ravioli and kabritu stoba?" You laugh, feeling the lightness of the conversation flow easily between you. This is nice, it feels like you have somehow known each other for years.

"Fair enough," he says, nodding approvingly. He waves the envelope slightly, catching your attention. "Now, open this."

You tear it open carefully, unfolding the piece of paper inside. The words are written in neat, careful handwriting, a small clue to the meticulous planning that went into this.

"To taste where flavours meet and blend, Find the 5treet where numb3Rs enD. Look where hungry students convene, The number’s hidden in this scene."

You frown slightly, reading it over again. Riddles aren’t exactly your strong suit, but you try to piece it together. Okay, there's a 53 in there, and R and D are capatilised...hungry students? Then it hits you, a beam of satisfaction at how quickly you managed to solve it shining from your pleased grin.

"53rd Note!" you exclaim, eyes lighting up. "The food stall on campus!" You look at him, a grin tugging at your lips. "I'm right, aren’t I?"

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Jongseong simply gestures for you to lead the way. What he doesn’t expect, however, is for you to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his in a way that feels so easy, so natural, it takes him by surprise. His heart skips a beat, something he didn’t think was possible in a moment as simple as this. Your hand in his feels...perfect. Warm, comforting, and everything he didn’t know he needed until now.

You feel the shift too - the way the simple touch adds a new layer to the evening. There’s something electric in the air, a sense of anticipation and excitement. It’s just a handhold, you tell yourself, but there’s more to it. The quiet understanding, the subtle acknowledgement of a connection that neither of you is ready to speak about just yet, in fear of jinxing something.

As you walk together toward the diner, the city lights twinkling above, the world feels a little smaller. It’s just the two of you, hands clasped, both of you teetering on the edge of something that feels new and exhilarating. Jongseong glances at you from the corner of his eye, his heart pounding in a way he knows he won’t forget. He’s down bad for you, that much he’s realised, fuck, he even came to this conclusion when you told him your name. But now, holding your hand, walking beside you on a slightly chilly evening, the sun setting in for bedtime while the moon starts its shift, he thinks maybe - hopefully - you might be down for him too.

_

The walk to 53rd Note is relatively short, yet it feels like time expands as you and Jongseong fall into an effortless rhythm of conversation. There’s no awkwardness, no fumbling through the typical, banal exchanges that often fill first dates - no one asking about favourite colours or talking endlessly about the weather surrounding you. Instead, the dialogue between you flows naturally, easily, as if you’ve known each other far longer than you have.

Jongseong’s questions are thoughtful, pulling you into a deeper conversation that takes you by surprise in the best way possible. "Why did you pick your major?" he asks, genuine curiosity lacing his tone. You find yourself opening up, explaining your passions and dreams, not feeling the need to hold back. There’s something about the way he listens that makes you feel heard, truly heard. His eyes never wander, his attention never falters - he is fully attentive.

"Is silver jewellery your thing, or are you allergic to gold?" he asks with a chuckle, glancing at the small silver ring on your finger. The question is odd but endearing, making you laugh. And when you ask about his interest in food, you learn that cooking is one of his many hidden talents. He admits to almost studying culinary arts before choosing music tech, a decision that sparks even more questions between you both.

The conversation continues, and you feel your guard slowly falling, piece by piece. You even ask him why he decided to talk to you that night at the party. His answer is simple, yet it holds weight. "I just wanted to get to know you."

By the time you reach the little food stall nestled on the corner of the student campus, you’re both lost in conversation and laughter. The place is a campus favourite, known for its amazing food and usual agonising long queues. It’s the kind of spot everyone flocks to after lectures or late-night study sessions. But tonight, something is off. The shutters are down, and the sign on the shutter swings lazily in the breeze, declaring the stall closed.

"I-It’s closed," you stammer, disappointment heavy in your voice, not because you can’t eat here, but because you feel a twinge of guilt knowing how Jongseong must have spent time planning all of this, and now you've hit a hurdle at the first stop. The last thing you want is for his carefully thought-out plan to be ruined so suddenly.

But when you turn to face him, the smile on his face hasn’t faltered. If anything, it’s grown wider, as if he’s completely unfazed by the situation. "Come on," he says, his voice full of quiet confidence as he gently squeezes your hand and leads you towards the shutter.

The stall is small but charming, with a bright yellow exterior and hand-painted menus plastered along the walls. Colourful string lights hang above it, though they’re unlit now, swaying lightly in the evening breeze. You notice a small table tucked beside the stall, probably a place for students to gather and chat as they wait for their orders. Everything about this place radiates warmth, even though it's currently closed.

Jongseong raises his hand and knocks on the metal shutter, the sound loud enough to startle a few birds perched nearby. Moments later, the shutter rolls up with a slow creak, revealing a boy wearing an apron and hairnet on the other side. His face lights up as he sees you both, his excitement palpable.

"Two to go, please," Jongseong grins at his friend, whose eyes gleam with understanding. Jake, nods enthusiastically, already bustling behind the counter. You quickly realise this is all part of Jongseong’s plan.

"You... how did you know he was in there?" you ask, confusion and amusement blending together as you look between Jake, who is clumsily wrapping up your food, and Jongseong, who’s leaning casually against the counter, looking as if everything is going perfectly to plan.

Jongseong’s cool demeanour makes you smile. "I know the owner," he says with a nonchalant shrug. "He let me borrow the hut for a minute."

In truth, Jongseong had to beg Woobin - the actual owner - to close up shop during peak hours. It wasn’t an easy feat. He had offered everything he could think of in exchange: guitar lessons, study help, and even his favourite hoodie. Woobin had eventually relented after enough pleading, but only on the condition that Jongseong wouldn’t touch the stock. Still, it worked out, and now here he is, pretending it was all effortlessly arranged.

"The normal guy isn’t here, though?" you ask, glancing at Jake, who looks completely out of his depth as he fumbles with the wrapping paper. It’s clear he doesn’t normally work here, but you can’t help but appreciate his enthusiasm.

Jongseong shifts slightly, his posture still casual, but you notice the flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He takes a breath, his voice calm but tinged with something deeper. "Ah, well... I cooked this meal."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you see a flash of vulnerability in him, a rare crack in his otherwise confident exterior. He’s laid himself bare now. The pressure isn’t just about whether this date is going well - it’s about whether you’ll like his food. 

For Jongseong, cooking is an act of love. Growing up, it had always been how his family showed they cared. His mum, his grandmother, they had taught him that food was more than just sustenance. It was a way to express emotion, to bring people together. And now, he’s hoping you’ll understand that.

He watches you carefully, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for your reaction. This isn’t just any meal. It’s his way of subtly showing you how much he could care for you, not just tonight, but for as long as you’ll have him. You can feel the weight of his unspoken words, the silent hope behind his playful banter. It’s more than just food; it’s a gesture, a glimpse into how deeply he’s already fallen for you.

Jake hands over the dishes with an exaggerated flourish, grinning from ear to ear. "Enjoy, my beautiful lovebirds," he says, winking at the two of you. You stifle a laugh, watching as Jongseong’s face flushes slightly, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. He’s clearly embarrassed by his friend’s teasing, and for a moment, you think he might actually throttle Jake. But you, on the other hand, find it sweet - endearing even - and thank Jake with a bright smile, not at all put off by the comment.

Being lovebirds with Jongseong isn’t hard to imagine, not really.

As you and Jongseong approach the small table near the stall, you take a moment to appreciate the surroundings. It’s a simple wooden setup, aged from the constant exposure to student life - scuffed by countless bags, elbows, and books. Yet tonight, it feels like it’s transformed into something more intimate as if the evening air and the quiet chatter in the distance have turned it into your own private dining space. The string lights above the stall, though unlit, seem to glimmer faintly in the twilight, casting a soft glow over the scene. The air is cool, but not cold, carrying the faint scent of campus greenery and the distant hum of city life.

Jongseong pulls out one of the two chairs for you, a small gesture, but one that sends a flicker of warmth through you. As you sit, he unravels the paper bag, the rustling sound filling the air, and the intoxicating aroma of the food reaches your nose before you even see what’s inside.

The first thing you notice is the kimchijjigae. The spicy tang hits you instantly, its deep red broth shimmering with flavour. The scent of fermented cabbage, tofu, and gochugaru wafts up, causing your stomach to rumble in anticipation. Beside it are two perfectly portioned servings of fried rice, golden and inviting, alongside bindaetteok - crispy mung bean pancakes that look so perfectly golden-brown, you can almost hear the crunch as you imagine biting into them.

Everything looks so carefully prepared, yet it’s simple, unpretentious. The kind of food that speaks volumes about the one who made it. Your heart swells as you realise how much thought went into this meal, into every tiny detail. It's not just about the food, it's about the care behind it.

"You made all of this?" you ask softly, your voice tinged with awe as you gaze at the beautifully arranged dishes in front of you. Despite the simplicity, the food looks incredible, and you can feel the thought and effort poured into it. You glance up at Jongseong, your eyes filled with admiration.

He nods, handing you a cup of water after pouring it carefully from the bottle Jake had given him. "Yeah," he says, his tone casual, but there’s an underlying nervousness in his eyes, as if he’s waiting for your reaction, hoping you’ll like what he’s made. "Everything’s vegan too. I wasn’t sure if you had any dietary restrictions or didn’t eat meat, so I went with the safest option."

That small detail, the consideration behind it, makes your chest tighten. He had thought of everything. You’d never mentioned anything about your diet, yet he had gone out of his way to make sure the meal would suit you, just in case. It’s such a thoughtful gesture, so full of quiet care, that it nearly overwhelms you. It’s not just the food he’s offering - it’s a piece of himself, his heart wrapped up in every bite.

Your heart swells with affection, and you smile so widely it almost hurts. "That’s...incredibly thoughtful," you murmur, feeling the weight of what he’s done settle warmly in your chest. You’re not used to people putting this much effort into dates, let alone cooking a meal tailored to your needs without even knowing them. In fact, you don’t think anyone has ever put this much effort into you as a person. It makes you feel seen, cared for, in a way that surprises you.

Without another word, you take your chopsticks and carefully lift a small piece of bindaetteok, its crispy edges crackling slightly as you bite into it. The taste is immediate; crispy on the outside, soft and delicate inside, with a rich flavour that bursts on your tongue. It’s perfect, so perfectly seasoned and balanced that you can’t help but let out a small, delighted squeal.

Your eyes light up as you look at him, your hands coming together in a quick, enthusiastic clap. "Oh my God, Jongseong!" you exclaim, your excitement bubbling over as your feet bounce under the table. "This is amazing!"

Jongseong lets out a relieved laugh, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he watches your reaction. His eyes soften, filled with a quiet joy that he can’t quite put into words. "I’m glad you like it," he says, his voice a little quieter now, the relief and warmth evident in his tone. But there’s something more in his expression, a look of pure contentment as if seeing you happy has made all the anxiety he’s been feeling completely worth it.

He wants to make you this happy forever.

You dig into the rest of the food eagerly, trying the kimchijjigae next. The broth is spicy but comforting, the heat hitting you just right without being overwhelming. The fried rice is fluffy, with a subtle but rich taste that perfectly complements the other dishes. Every bite feels like a hug, the kind of meal that fills both your stomach and your heart.

As you eat and chatter, you can’t help but look at Jongseong, this boy who’s already managed to sweep you off your feet without even trying, your heart doing most of the soaring. You see the way he watches you, the small smile that tugs at his lips every time you take another bite or tell him another story. He’s nervous, but proud, clearly pleased that you’re enjoying the meal. And in that moment, you realise how much he’s already starting to mean to you. This is more than just a first date - it’s the beginning of something, something that feels real and full of possibility.

As you finish the last bite, you feel a surge of warmth spreading through you—not just from the food, but from the entire experience. The way Jongseong has thought through every detail, from the meal to the riddles, makes your heart swell with affection. You smile, letting the emotion seep into your voice as you look up at him. "Jongseong," you say softly, holding his gaze, "this was...perfect. Compliments to the chef."

Without missing a beat, Jongseong's face lights up with pride. He stands up with an exaggerated bow, playing up his role as the triumphant chef, and gives a few playful nods to an imaginary audience. His movements are full of cocky grace, a confidence that’s both endearing and maddening in the best way. You can’t help but laugh, your body suddenly feeling warmer at how effortlessly charming he is - this is depth to Jongseong that you desperately want to unravel, layer by layer.

In more ways than one.

Still glowing with laughter, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out another envelope, teasingly waving it in front of you. "Now," he says, his smirk growing wider, "you want the next envelope?"

Nodding eagerly, you can barely contain the glee and anticipation bubbling up inside you. The treasure hunt has been so fun, and now you’re ready to see what’s next.

"Okay," he begins, placing the envelope on the table in front of you, his eyes glinting with mischievous delight. "But first, you’ve got to answer my question."

You nod again, this time pretending to adopt a serious game face, your brows furrowing in faux concentration as you prepare yourself for whatever difficult question he’s about to ask.

"Who was the first person you ever went to see in concert?" Jongseong asks, leaning in, his smirk turning a little more playful.

Your confident expression falters as you immediately dissolve into laughter, the memory of your first concert flashing vividly in your mind. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to suppress your giggles, but it’s no use. Jongseong raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. "Oh, there’s a story here, huh?" he prompts, grinning wider. "Is it embarrassing?"

"Not embarrassing... maybe," you begin, still giggling as the memory takes hold of you. "It was... an ‘In the Night Garden’ experience. I was seven years old, and I got to dance with them on stage." You snort, remembering how excited and utterly starstruck you were as a child.

Jongseong blinks once, then twice, as if trying to process the image, and then bursts out laughing. He leans back in his chair, throwing his head back with full, hearty laughter that echoes through the quiet evening air. It’s a deep, unrestrained laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, the kind that feels as warm and genuine as everything else about him. You join in, your laughter melding with his, both of you giggling like children at the sheer absurdity of your revelation.

"In the Night Garden?" he repeats, still chuckling, his voice filled with disbelief. "The kids' show? I was expecting you to say something like EXO or SHINee!"

You hide your face in your hands, the realisation dawning on you that it is, in fact, kind of embarrassing. But you can’t help but laugh at yourself. "I did see EXO and SHINee later on, but they weren’t my first!" you protest between giggles.

"You didn’t think to lie?" he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Not at all," you say, your voice softening as the laughter dies down. There’s something wistful in your tone now, a hint of sincerity that catches even you by surprise. "I don’t want to lie to you, not about the silly stuff and…not about the serious stuff either."

For a moment, the air between you changes. The playful banter gives way to something deeper, a quiet understanding that passes between you. It’s as if, in this small moment, you’re both realising how much you want to be honest with each other - how much you want to truly know each other. You see Jongseong’s face shift, his teasing grin softening into something tender, something full of affection. He can see it, the way you’re falling a little deeper into him with every word, every shared laugh, and the joy that fills his face is undeniable. His eyes sparkle, and his lips curve into a smile so warm, it feels like a promise.

"Well," he says, pushing the envelope across the table toward you with a soft, satisfied sigh, "I think you’ve earned the next clue."

With a grin, you eagerly take the envelope, your fingers tingling with excitement as you carefully tear it open. The riddle inside reads:

"Under a bridge of lights, a river’s friend. Where music plays, the night will never end. So gather near, beneath the sky so bright, And hear the melodies that fill the night."

The moment you finish reading it, a confident smile spreads across your face. "Oh, this is easy," you say, wiggling your shoulders smugly. "It’s the Han River."

Jongseong nods, impressed but not surprised. "Of course. But there’s a little surprise waiting for you. Come on." He stands, holding out his hand to you, his eyes twinkling with proud knowing.

You take his hand instinctively, your fingers curling naturally around his. As you stand up, you find yourself moving closer to him, your bodies leaning into each other in a way that feels effortless, natural. The walk toward the river feels different, like every step brings you closer, not just physically but emotionally. The night air wraps around you, cool but pleasant, and the distant city lights shimmer like stars scattered along the horizon. The quiet hum of life around you fades into the background as your focus narrows to the warmth of Jongseong's hand in yours and the soft sound of your footsteps together.

Your heart beats steadily, not with nerves, but with a quiet certainty: you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

_

As you approach the Han River, the usual serene atmosphere is broken by the soft hum of excitement. A crowd is gathered by one section, and you spot people seated in a semi-circle, the area aglow with warm, delicate fairy lights and scattered fake candles that twinkle like stars against the night sky. Amps are neatly arranged around a modest stage setup, cables snaking across the ground as if drawing people into the intimate space. The whole scene feels like it’s been lifted from a dream—cosy, inviting, and charged with quiet anticipation.

You turn to Jongseong, eyebrows raised in question. "Is this one of those busking things?"

"Not just any busking thing," he corrects you, his grin widening as he pulls two tickets from his pocket. His excitement is hard to contain as he watches you inspect them.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes fall on the print: Sam Kim, filming for Begin Again Open Mic.

"How did you—?" you begin, stunned, unable to process how he’d managed to pull off something so incredible.

"I might have stalked your Instagram a bit," he admits with a sheepish chuckle, though his expression is anything but embarrassed. "Saw you post about him a few times and figured it was a sure thing.” The tickets weren’t easy to get, though, that part he isn’t telling you. He had to sell one of his precious guitars to make it happen, but the look on your face right now? Totally worth it. 

Your eyes well up, not from sadness, but from a deep, overwhelming appreciation. There’s something unfamiliar yet beautiful blooming in your chest, a warmth that spreads through you and makes your heart race in a way it hasn’t before. "Thank you so much, Jongseong," you whisper, the words falling out on their own. 

Never have you looked at a man and felt this way, and you don’t think you ever will unless it’s Jongseong.

Before you can stop yourself, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. At first, he seems caught off guard, his body stiffening for a moment. But then, as if the feeling clicks into place, he quickly relaxes into the hug, his arms encircling you with gentle but firm pressure. You feel him bury his face briefly into your hair, inhaling your scent, committing it to memory like it’s something precious he wants to hold onto. His warmth wraps around you like a protective shield, and for a second, the world fades away.

If this is what being with you is like, he never wants to spend another minute apart.

"Come on," he murmurs into your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Let’s get our seats."

He leads you toward a blanket with his name written on a small tag in, neatly reserved in one of the best spots. As you approach, he helps you settle down onto the blanket, standing behind you attentively as you smooth out your skirt. It’s a simple gesture - making sure you’re comfortable, that your clothes are fixed just right and you don’t unwillingly flash the poor couple behind you - but it feels like so much more. Your skirt, a flowing, light fabric that swishes around your legs, catches the evening breeze as you adjust yourself, and you find yourself grateful for his thoughtfulness.

Once you’re seated, Jongseong slips down beside you, the space between you both comfortably close. He takes off his jacket and places it over your legs, to shield you from the biting cold wind from the river and reserve your modesty. 

Just as you settle in, the quiet murmur of the crowd dies down, and the soft strum of a guitar fills the air. Sam Kim steps onto the small, makeshift stage, his presence met with excited murmurs and appreciative applause from the audience.

You can’t believe it. Sam Kim, live and in person, just a few metres away. Your heart swells as the first notes of ‘Closer’ begin to play, the song wrapping around you like an old memory, one you didn’t realise you had been holding so close. The smooth timbre of Sam’s voice fills the cool night air, his words resonating deep within you.

You feel yourself lean instinctively toward Jongseong, and without hesitation, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer into his side. His warmth anchors you as the music washes over you both, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. He presses his chin softly atop your head, his hand lightly tracing your arm in slow, comforting strokes.

The tenderness of the moment, combined with Sam Kim’s voice singing about longing and love, stirs something deep inside you. As the next song begins - Seattle - its delicate melody and heartfelt lyrics unravel any composure you had left. Tears prick at your eyes, and you can’t help but let them fall as the song’s quiet emotion seeps into every fibre of your being. There’s something about the raw vulnerability in the music, in the moment, that makes it impossible to hold back.

Jongseong notices right away. Without a word, he gently tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer into him as if to shield you from the overwhelming emotion. He presses his lips softly against your temple in a tender, wordless gesture of comfort, his breath warm and steady against your skin.

As soon as his mouth makes contact with your skin, he feels sick in such a profound way, that all his love and realisation is now reaching from his toes, past his heart, and into his brain.

You glance up at him through your damp lashes, and he meets your gaze with such sincerity that your heart skips a beat. His eyes are full of unspoken promises, of quiet understanding. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, speaks louder than words ever could. In that moment, it feels like the music, the river, the night sky, and Jongseong are all blending together in perfect harmony.

The rest of the performance unfolds in a beautiful haze of music and soft touches. Each song Sam Kim plays feels like a gift, and by the time the last note fades into the night, you’re left with a feeling of warmth and connection that goes beyond the evening itself. It’s as though something shifted between you and Jongseong - a silent but profound acknowledgement that tonight was about more than just a date.

The final notes of the performance linger in the air, weaving through the soft hum of conversations around you. As the crowd begins to disperse, you wipe the last of your tears, touched not only by the music but by the entire night, Jongseong has crafted for you. His presence feels like an anchor, steady and reassuring amidst the emotional whirlpool of the evening.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" His voice is filled with concern, his gentle eyes scanning your face as though searching for any lingering sadness. You sense his earnestness, his desire to make sure every second of tonight was perfect for you. Jongseong knew you liked Sam Kim, but he hadn’t expected your deep connection to the music to stir such raw emotion in you. But now, seeing the impact it had, he’s certain Sam is officially his favourite artist too, simply because of what he’s done for you.

Smiling through the tenderness swelling in your chest, you nod and offer a playful pout. "I'm more than okay. Really, Jongseong, thank you so much for all of this. I don’t think I’ve ever had a date like this," you laugh, the joy bubbling up as you stand up, Jongseong quickly offering his hand to help you to your feet. His touch is light, but there’s an intimacy in the way he smooths out the wrinkles of your skirt, his fingers brushing over the fabric as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A laugh escapes you again, this one softer, almost wistful. "I don’t even think I’ll ever have a date like this again."

But the truth behind your words hits deeper than you let on. You know someone like Jongseong is rare, a once-in-a-lifetime kind of soul. The universe doesn’t often gift the world people like him so easily, and yet here he is, standing before you, having planned the most thoughtful evening you’ve ever experienced. It feels like a miracle, like some kind of cosmic alignment that allowed you to meet him.

Jongseong, ever so sweet, tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Oh, you will," he says with a soft shake of his head, a playful yet sincere smile tugging at his lips. "Because I’m going to take you on dates bigger and better than this."

His words settle in your chest, a gentle promise that fills you with an almost dizzying sense of happiness. He’s not just thinking about tonight; he’s already imagining the future - your future together. What you don’t know is that during the mini-concert, as the singer’s voice crooned through the air, Jongseong was secretly planning the next date, and the one after that, and the next one after that one, and so many more. In his mind, he’s already picturing you both years down the line, holding hands when you’re old and grey, still laughing, still sharing moments like these. He’s jumping the gun here but that’s how much he wants you in his life, no, needs you in his life.

You reach up, your hand cupping his face, your thumb gently stroking the cool surface of his cheek. His skin feels smooth under your touch, but there’s a warmth beneath it, a warmth that spreads from him to you. "How about I plan the next one?" you offer, the words carrying a weight of confirmation - you want more. More moments like this, more laughter, more adventures. More him.

Jongseong’s eyes light up, his heart swelling with happiness. "Deal," he says, his voice low but laced with excitement. His gaze, however, drifts lower, his eyes falling to your lips. The air between you shifts, suddenly charged with a new kind of energy. He’s no longer just thinking about the next date; he’s thinking about now. The urge to kiss you swells inside him, consuming his thoughts. He wants to feel your lips on his, to communicate the emotions he hasn’t been able to fully express with words. His pulse quickens as he realises just how close you are, how easy it would be to lean in, close the gap, and make this night even more unforgettable.

You sense his desire, and a matching one blooms within you. Your heart beats faster as you step closer, rising onto your tiptoes. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you press your lips against his.

The kiss is soft at first, a delicate brush of skin against skin, but it carries the weight of all the unspoken feelings between you. Jongseong stills for a moment, his breath catching as he savours the sensation of your lips on his. There’s a gentleness in the way he kisses you, a quiet reverence as though he’s afraid to break the spell. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepens the kiss, but never rushes. Each movement is careful, slow, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

Your body tingles with warmth, a soft hum of pleasure spreading through you as you kiss him back. The world around you fades into the background—the quiet murmur of the river, the distant buzz of people - all of it disappearing as you lose yourself in the moment. His lips are warm and inviting, moulding perfectly to yours as though they were always meant to fit together. It’s sweet and unhurried, as if you have all the time in the world to explore the depth of this feeling.

As the kiss lingers, you feel the intensity of his emotions bleeding through, each press of his lips a silent confession. He’s telling you, without words, how much he’s already fallen for you. How he’s imagined a future with you, a lifetime of nights like this one. There’s a vulnerability in the kiss, an openness that makes your chest tighten with something more than affection. It feels like trust, like promise, like everything you’ve ever wanted but didn’t know you needed.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingles with his in the cool night air, your lips tingling with glee. His eyes are still closed, savouring the aftertaste of the kiss, as though he’s replaying it in his mind, etching it into his memory.

You both stand there for a moment, soaking in the adoration that seems to swirl around you. The Han River, mixed with the lights of the busking, and the love in the aire from the other couples, you feel it, all so immensely. Something has shifted. This isn’t just the start of something new - it’s the beginning of something deeply powerful. Something neither of you can quite put into words yet, but both of you feel it. It’s in the way he looks at you, in the way your lips just met, and in the way your hearts are already intertwining, bonding you to him for a lifetime.

Pulling himself away from the moment, Jongseong opens his eyes and grins down at you, kissing your forehead, desperate to keep his lips on you in some way. “Ready for the next one?”

“Oh, Absolutely.” Your answer is so self-assured and confident, there is no apprehension in your tone, only sheer enthusiasm to spend every waking minute with him.

Jongseong feels the same way, maybe even more than you. And he can’t wait for the day he gets to tell you how he fell in love with you in this moment.

_____

Laying in Jongseong’s bed, you slouch lazily against his headboard as you lose yourself in the words on your Kindle. The paragraphs of The Handmaiden grip you, pulling you into their twisted world, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you - a cocktail of disgust, hope, fear, and love. Love especially lingers on your mind, but little do you know that someone beside you is feeling that emotion just as intensely, perhaps even more, because the reason for his swirling heart is real and currently wearing his AC/DC t-shirt.

He stares at you engrossed in your book and for some strange, inexplicable reason, his chest feels tight and the pressure behind his eyes hurt, like he is a bottle of coke and there is a packet of Mentos just landing inside his soul.

"I fucking love you so much," Jongseong says suddenly, his voice soft yet undeniably passionate, carrying a depth that cuts through the silence of the room like a bolt of lightning. His body language or facial expression doesn’t change, in fact, the feeling has been inside of him for so long that speaking the words into fruition doesn’t change a thing about him. 

You freeze, the words on your screen blurring as your mind tries to process what you just heard.  Did he really say that? Maybe you misheard him. “What?” you ask, turning your head to face him, and once you see the sincerity in his face and the fire in his eyes, your heart begins to race, and your question is answered.

“I love you,” he repeats, more pointed this time so you know there is not even a wiggle of doubt, his eyes locked onto yours with a look so sincere it leaves you breathless. “More than my heart or my chest can hold in.” 

His confession takes you completely by surprise. It feels so sudden, so unexpected, that for a moment, you’re left speechless. You knew he cared deeply for you - his actions and gentle gestures have always spoken louder than words - but hearing it now, on a random Wednesday night, three months into your relationship, when you were just lounging in his bed, didn’t seem like his style at all. 

And you were right, Jongseong was always the one for grand gestures, for perfectly planned moments. He wanted to tell you over a candlelit dinner, complete with a big speech about all the reasons he fell for you, fighting the urge to tell you on your very first date. But he knew his feelings, he couldn’t deny them nor did he ever want to, however, maybe blurting out ‘I love you’ when he didn’t even know your favourite colour was a bit quick, so he decided to wait for the perfect moment, which he had guessed would be planned.

But there’s something so genuine about this moment - him saying it while you’re here, wearing his oversized t-shirt, your glasses perched on your nose, so absorbed in your book that you didn't even realise he was watching you. There’s no grand setup, no orchestrated plan - just pure, unfiltered feeling. Sometimes, you don’t need a big, fancy gesture; sometimes, the love is enough.

His hand reaches out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His touch pulls you in, makes you forget about everything else except him and the love reflected in his eyes. Somehow, he looks even more beautiful than he did 10 minutes ago.

You place your Kindle to the side, giving him your full attention, and clasp his fingers with yours, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse under your touch. “You love me?” you whisper, almost as if saying it too loudly might shatter the magic of this moment.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his voice as easy as breathing, because that’s exactly what it feels like to him. Falling in love is supposed to be scary and daunting, placing your heart in the palms of someone who could break it with one wrongdoing is enough to put people off giving and receiving the emotion. But Jongseong? He would give you every part of his body for you to keep hold of - for you to own. You are everything he needs in life, the only person he would start a war for, he trusts you completely; he has never felt anything this strongly before. 

Your chest feels like it’s suddenly desperate to connect with his, to close the gap between you both and merge yourselves as one whole being. His words sink into you, filling spaces you didn’t even know were empty. 

With a shaky breath, you hold back a tiny sob, the aura in the room too overwhelming for your heart. But not overwhelming enough to stop you from saying how you feel. “I love you too, Jongseong,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly, but not with uncertainty - rather with the sheer intensity of the truth.

He looks at you, searching your face for any hint of doubt. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, but it’s just the slight thread of insecurity in being so vulnerable with someone. "You mean it? You aren’t just saying it out of obligation? Because you do-”

You interrupt him, squeezing his hands tighter. “I mean it. More than anything else that has ever left my mouth. I love you.”

A Cheshire smile breaks across his face, bright and unrestrained. He grabs your face in a rush, his big hands enveloping your cheeks as he begins to pepper kisses all over your face - your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, every inch of skin he sees squished between his palms - until you’re giggling uncontrollably. 

“Jongseong!” you squeal, your laughter infectious, and thus he keeps going, pinning you down gently, his weight warm and secure over you, his lips finding every spot that makes you laugh even harder until your sides hurt. This is what love is supposed to feel like, childlike and free, just as you two always are.

You are in love. So incredibly in love.

When he finally stops, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I will love you until my dying breath, Y/N L/N,” he promises, his voice low and solemn. The serious current that accompanies the joy in his voice tells you all you need to know, instilling you with confidence that this man means every word and every emotion he is pouring into you.

A grin spreads across your lips, and you can’t help the heartfelt response that tumbles out: “I’ll love you until we’re food for the worms to eat.”

Your morbid but romantic description makes his heart thump, his expression turning even brighter. He laughs, a rich, melodic sound that fills the room, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you like you’re the only girl in the world. “Had to one-up me, huh?” he jokes.

“You know me, always one step extra,” you tease, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt.

The kiss starts slow, tender - a soft press of lips that speaks of newfound confessions and the quiet promise of forever. His lips are warm, moving gently against yours, and you can feel the way his breath hitches like he’s savouring every second, every little brush of skin against skin. Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a low, rumbling groan from deep within his chest.

The kiss turns heated, a spark catching flame as his hands slide down your body, tracing the curve of your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. He slots his body between your legs, his hips situated on yours as his member hilts against you. Your legs spread wider to let him fully lay on top of you, your boyfriend’s heart kissing your own with each beat.

His lips part, deepening the kiss, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. The world around you blurs; all you can feel is the heat of his body against yours, the way his lips mould perfectly with yours, and the electric current that courses through you with every touch, every breath. 

Jongseong’s hand grips your hip, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver, and his lips move with a hunger that matches the rapid beat of your heart. He’s pouring everything into this kiss - all his love, his need, his promise - until you’re both breathless and burning with a desire that you never want to end.

The kiss breaks for just a moment, enough for both of you to catch your breath and him to discard your t-shirt, but Jongseong’s lips don’t leave your skin for long. His forehead rests against yours, and the two of you share a lingering moment of closeness, eyes locked, hearts pounding in sync. There’s an unspoken understanding between you, a shared desire that flows in the charged air between you.

With a soft, almost reverent touch, Jongseong begins trailing kisses along your jawline, slow and deliberate, as though he’s memorizing every inch of your skin with his lips. Each kiss is a whisper of warmth, igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through your body. You tilt your head back, giving him access, and he doesn’t waste a second. His mouth continues its descent, moving down to your neck where he plants open-mouthed kisses, his tongue brushing lightly against your pulse point, causing a shudder to run through you.

His hands, warm and steady, explore the curves of your body as he works his way lower, lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He lingers there for a heartbeat, nipping gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on, and he responds with a low growl that reverberates against your skin, sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

Jongseong shifts, his lips now trailing down to the valley between your breasts, each kiss more purposeful, more heated than the last. His breath is hot, his touch sure, and every movement, every press of his lips, leaves you aching for more. You arch your back, pushing yourself into him, craving the sensation of his mouth on your body.

As he continues his descent, kissing lower and lower, until he is at the band of your panties, his breath fans across your skin, and the anticipation builds with every second, every soft press of his lips against you.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he murmurs between kisses, his voice thick with adoration.

You giggle, hiding your face at the chanting confession. You can’t believe a man so perfect is in love with you. Gently, you run your fingers through his hair and pout down at him, “I love you, too.”

The words brush down your torso and into Jongseong’s ears, eliciting a smile from him. That is all he has wanted to hear, from the moment he met you. He knows love like this is precious, and he never intends to waste it.

Carefully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and pull them down, your legs instinctively opening, showcasing your bare, glistening pussy for your boyfriend to see. It’s delicious, succulent, and all entirely for him to devour.

"So fucking pretty," he whispers, sending chills down your spine. The room feels hotter as he settles between your legs, tongue poking through his lips oh so teasingly to wet them, your clit weaping for attention. He does this to you a lot, makes your body react in ways it never has before, even after your first date you felt your panties soaking more and more to the point you dragged him into your dorm room and fucked him. 

Was it a smart idea to fuck a man on the first date? Not usually, but you knew from that day that you were willing to spend the rest of your life with him so, what was the harm in some fun?

Kissing your clit, Jongseong looks up to watch you as he always does, loving the way your face conveys the pleasure you feel. Even the simplest of touches has you under his mercy. As he begins to lap at your core with his tongue, you can't help but clutch his hair, your fingers tangled in the strands as you grind into his face. Your back lifts from the bed as you seek even more pleasure.

Overcome with how you taste, he doesn’t even register your fingers in his hair, pulling at it harshly when he circles your clit with his tongue. You’re so wet as he slurps you up but there’s so much it’s dripping onto his chin. It serves as motivation to keep going, to pleasure you as much as possible, to show you how much he wants to devour you, both body and soul.

Jongseong doesn’t get pussy drunk with girls, but he does with you. Addicted to the taste and smell of you, he just wants to rub himself all over you, covering himself in your slick as if to scent him, like you’re both wolves in some ABO universe.

“Don’t stop, Jongseong,” you groan out, the backs of your feet digging into his back as you pin him down as best you can, signalling to him your need for more. 

Smirking at your desperation, Jongseong’s tongue runs itself along your entrance and it makes you buckle, pushing his head in further. He continues his effort, making you a panting mess. His tongue was a gift from God and you’ll need to thank the big man later when you meet him for blessing you with a sex-god boyfriend.

A sex-god boyfriend who is in love with you.

Dipping his tongue in a few times helps him gauge how tight you are, seeing how much prep he needs to give you before he can fuck his love into you. As if reading his lewd thoughts, he feels your pussy squeezing, his tongue taking advantage and swirling around to hit more circumference of your walls. 

“I can’t wait to be inside of you, baby. To show you how much i really love you.”

It’s funny that he thinks sex would showcase his love any more than his eyes and heart already do. You know he loves you, you might have been shocked at how abruptly he said it tonight, but you’ve always known. It’s in the way he kisses you, how he cooks dinner for you even after long days, and it’s in how he would give up anything to see you happy.

Your clit is suddenly being simulated by his nose, it poking at it slightly the more bountiful he inserts his tongue. It feels otherworldly, “Jongseong, s’good, so good, fuck,” Your fingers harshly massage his scalp as you wiggle, close to cumming.

He knows it too, you’re dripping so much it’s leaking over half of his face. It’s so fucking hot how you’re a mess like this, just for him, only for him. Jongseong switches his tactics, lips now encircled around your clit and sucking harshly on it, the new sensation causing you to cry out, a new wave of your juices dripping down his chin and onto his bedsheets 

And just a few seconds later, you’re coming undone. 

Jongseong, ever pleased with himself, cleans you up with his tongue, sucking up the slick that’s flowing form your hole and drinking it greedily. You taste so good he could spend hours down here. But unfortunately, and selfishly, he needs to fuck you. Right here, right now.

Wiping your essence from his mouth, Jongseong crawls up over your body, placing gentle kisses up your torso, past your heaving chest, and back to your lips. He stares at you with something deep in his iris’, a promise that he will always make you feel this inspired, this gleeful, and never cause you any harm. 

When you’re so in love with someone, all the emotions come with it. And while you both encompass the very being of adoration and love, sometimes that red that represented your passion for one another, turned into a shade none of you liked.

_____

Your heels slam against the tiled floor of the hallway as you march through the dimly lit corridor of your apartment building, the sound echoing like the beating of a war drum. Every step sends a jolt through your aching feet, but the pain is nothing compared to the simmering rage boiling in your veins. You fumble for your keys, hands trembling with a mix of exhaustion and fury, the metallic clinking of the keyring mocking your every failed attempt. When you finally manage to fit the key into the lock, it sticks, just like it always does. You curse under your breath - a small, infuriating reminder of the list of things that should have been fixed, but like so many other things lately, were neglected.

You give the door a sharp push, the old wood groaning in protest as it swings open, the gust of night air brushing over your flushed skin, cooling the anger that’s blazing just beneath the surface. Without thinking, you slam it shut behind you, the force sending a jolt through your arm as the door rebounds off something - or rather, someone. Your boyfriend. The door collides with his face, eliciting a pained grunt as he catches it just in time to prevent further damage.

“Really, Y/N?” he groans, rubbing his jaw where the door had made contact. His voice is strained, more exasperated than angry, but it only fuels the fire burning inside you.

You toss your clutch onto the nearby table with a careless flick of your wrist, the sharp clatter slicing through the tense silence. Kicking off your shoes with more force than necessary, you whirl around to face him, your vision clouded by a searing flash of red-hot anger. You know you should apologise, at least for the door, but the apology sticks in your throat, smothered by the bitterness that’s bubbling up like a storm ready to burst.

Raking your fingers through your hair, you grip tightly at the roots, desperate to hold onto something, anything, to stop yourself from unravelling completely. “I don’t even want to look at you right now,” you spit, voice thick with venom, every word dripping with the weight of betrayal. Your expression twists into one of pure disgust as if just the sight of him is enough to set you off all over again.

You spin on your heel, determined to escape, but before you can make it to the sanctuary of your bedroom, you feel his gentle grip on your elbow. It’s a light touch, but it might as well be ironclad, and despite every fibre of your being screaming to pull away, you find yourself turning back to him, drawn by a force you can’t quite resist. You wish you could fight it - fight him, fight this magnetic pull that always seems to reel you back in - but your heart, traitorous as it is, weakens at his touch.

His eyes are steady, calm even, but the way his jaw tenses betrays the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior. You can see the flicker of frustration in the tightness of his clenched teeth, but it’s not directed at you; it’s aimed at the mess that’s wedged its way between the two of you, threatening to tear apart everything you’ve built together. He’s not angry with you, not even a little, but you can see the weariness in his gaze - the weight of a thousand unspoken words hanging between you like a fog.

“Too bad, because I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We’re talking this out right now,” he says, his voice low but firm. He is not letting you stew in this mess, he hates the way your brain works, how it overthinks for hours, creating a mountain out of a molehill when he knows that one simple conversation can solve all problems.

He does fear that this might not be solved with a quick debate and kiss. This is going to take more than that.

You yank your arm away, swallowing the painful lump forming in your throat as you catch the brief flash of hurt in his eyes, like a knife twisting deeper. “Oh, sorry,” you snap, sarcasm dripping from your words, the sound bitter in your mouth. “What would you like to discuss first? The fact that you embarrassed me in front of my entire family and ruined my sister’s engagement party, or the fact that you punched my dad?”

Each word leaves your lips like a punch, each accusation sharper than the last. You watch as his calm exterior fractures, his eyes flickering with a cocktail of regret, anger, and something you can't quite place. The room feels like it’s closing in, the air heavy with the weight of things said and unsaid, as the silence between you sharpens, poised to snap at any moment.

Jongseong flinches, his expression flickering for a moment, the crack in his composure barely visible but unmistakable to you. He’s always been so unshakable, so infuriatingly composed during moments like this, and for a split second, you see the vulnerability beneath the mask - the guilt, the pain, the anger at himself. But he quickly steels himself, his gaze locking onto yours with a resolve that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You think I wanted that to happen?” he shoots back, his voice low and rough, trembling slightly with the effort of keeping it steady. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, as if searching for some kind of understanding in the sea of your fury. “You think I planned to lose it like that? That I wanted to make a scene in front of your whole family?”

His words hang heavy in the air, every syllable a plea for you to see him, to see the mess of emotions churning inside him, but all you can feel is the sting of humiliation, the sharp edge of betrayal slicing through your chest. 

The scene replays in your mind like a broken film reel, each frame more painful than the last. Your father’s slurred words, the way Jongseong’s posture stiffened, the moment things spiralled from heated words to fists flying. You remember the sickening thud of your father hitting the ground, the horrified gasps, and the wave of whispers that rippled through the room. Your heart had dropped to the floor along with him, and in that split second, everything had shattered - your sister’s engagement, your mother’s fragile composure, and the image you’d built of the man you loved. You can still hear the murmurs, each one laced with judgment, each one a knife twisting deeper.

Your dad has always been a kind man at heart, but the bottle changes him into someone unrecognisable, a man who lets the worst parts of himself spill out. You remember the nights as a child, hiding in your room while your parents fought, your mother’s angry voice telling him to sober up or get out, how he would vomit over the living room floor and have no recollection of it in the morning. It’s those memories - the helplessness, the fear, the shame - that have kept you from ever picking up a drink. 

You vowed never to touch the stuff, never to let alcohol turn you into someone altered, and Jongseong understood that about you from the start after you trusted him with your memories. He made the promise to you that night, quitting the moment you told him how much it meant to you, swearing he would never touch another drop again. You didn’t ask him too, he simply did it because that’s how much he loves you.

You step back, folding your arms across your chest, a protective barrier against the storm brewing between you. “You punched my dad, Jongseong!” you shout, your voice cracking under the strain of holding back tears. “You humiliated me in front of everyone. My mom was crying, my sister - God, do you even know what you did to her tonight? It was supposed to be her moment, and you ruined it!”

He steps forward, reaching out as if to touch you, to comfort you, but you take another step back, the distance between you widening. The urge to let him hold you, to fall into his arms and let the weight of tonight melt away is so strong it hurts, but you can’t. Not yet. Not when everything is still so raw, so jagged.

Jongseong breathes out and calms himself, “Listen to me,” he steps forward once again and he’s relieved that you don’t move. “I should not have acted like that, and that is what I am sorry for. But I will not let a man who has caused you so much pain talk about you like you are less than what you are. As long as my heart is beating, even when it stops, I will protect you from anything and anyone. I do not care if it’s family, or a stranger, or even yourself. You mean more to me than any other person on this planet and if I think for a second your heart is in danger, I am willing to do anything to protect it.”

His words hang in the air, raw and intense, vibrating with a passion that cuts through the tension like a blade. His gaze is locked onto yours, unwavering, filled with a fierce, almost desperate determination that pulls at something deep inside you. He’s closer now, just a step away, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with the cold ache of your own heartbreak. For a moment, all the noise in your head quiets, leaving only the thundering rhythm of your own heartbeat and the weight of his promise.

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as the intensity of the moment settles around you. You’re torn between the anger that still simmers beneath your skin and the undeniable pull toward him, the man who’s both your solace and, tonight, your greatest source of pain. Jongseong’s words are like a salve, and though they don’t erase what happened, they start to soothe the jagged edges of your hurt. You can see the fear in his eyes - fear of losing you, of becoming the person you’ve always dreaded. There’s a vulnerability in him now, raw and unguarded, and it stirs something soft within you.

You take a deep breath, letting the tension drain from your shoulders, just a little. Your grip on the anger loosens, and the tight knot in your chest begins to unfurl, replaced by a slow, tentative warmth. Your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out, but you keep them at your sides, not quite ready for the full embrace of forgiveness but open to something gentler, something that feels like understanding.

“Jongseong,” you start, your voice quieter now, less a weapon and more a tentative bridge. “I know you meant well. I know you were trying to stand up for me. But you have to understand… that’s not what I need. I don’t need you to fight for me like that. I don’t need you to get angry on my behalf. I just need you to be here, to help me feel safe. Not like…” You trail off, your eyes dropping to the floor as you fight to find the words. “Not like this. We’ve been together for 5 years now, I told you my dad has his moments like this and as a family, we all chose to stick by him and support him, for mum’s sake. He is trying and sometimes he slips. Punching him and lashing out because he said some stupid shit he won’t remember in the morning isn’t the answer, it’s not what I want from you.”

Jongseong’s expression softens, the fierce determination in his eyes giving way to something deeper, more regretful. Honestly, he hates that you’re all so kind to a man who has caused you grief and misery your entire life, but you, your mum, and your sister are the kindest souls in the universe, it’s in your nature to see the good in people. Jongseong wishes your dad saw you all that way too, rather than taking advantage of the chances you give him.

He steps closer, his hand finally making contact with your skin and you instantly calm, the weight of his palm on your cheek grounding you. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeats, his voice breaking slightly, carrying the weight of his remorse. “I know what I did was stupid. I still don’t regret it,” he admits, his honesty ringing clear despite the regret in his tone. “I’d fight anyone who tried to hurt you, physically or emotionally. That’s how much you mean to me.”

You look up at him, the tears you’d been holding back now spilling freely. His confession doesn’t erase the pain, but it does offer a window into his heart - a heart that, despite its flaws and mistakes, beats fiercely in your defence. You can see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict between his protective instincts and the reality of his actions.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice quiet but unwavering. “I know you’d do anything to protect me. But if we’re going to be a family - when we get married - you’ll be part of all this. You have to understand that. You have to respect my mum and dad’s needs.” Your words are a bridge between your love for him and your love for your family. “If you can’t do that, then I can’t let you be a part of their lives. I need you to know that.”

Your voice trembles slightly at the weight of what you’re saying, and the look in Jongseong’s eyes shifts. He doesn’t speak right away, but his silence is filled with understanding. You can see your words land like stones in his chest, the gravity of your family’s importance settling in. He knows how much they mean to you, and the unspoken warning lingers: if he messes this up again, there’s no way forward. The very thought of a future without you sends a ripple of fear through him. He’s never imagined that possibility because, to him, there is no option. He won’t let it happen.

His stomach churns at the idea of losing you, but his hope brightens as you say ‘when we get married’ rather than ‘if’. “I’ll do better, Y/N. I promise, I’ll support you in whatever way you need me to.” His shoulders drop slightly as if conceding to the truth you’ve laid bare between you. “You’re strong. I should’ve known that, and I’m sorry for not trusting that strength.” His remorse is palpable, and you can feel the weight lifting slightly from your chest, the anger and hurt that had clouded your mind beginning to dissipate.

The room seems to settle, the tension slowly dissolving into something calmer, something more manageable. You look up at the man you love, really look at him, and see how much he truly cares - how deeply he regrets what happened, not just for you, but for everyone. His eyes are sincere, remorse shining in their depths, and for the first time since the night began to spiral, you feel a sense of peace.

You exhale, your own apology forming on your lips as the fog of anger clears from your brain. “I’m sorry too. For lashing out, for hitting you with the door…it was childish. I shouldn’t have acted like that.” A flush of embarrassment heats your face, the shame of your actions making you feel small.

Jongseong reaches up to rub his jaw, faking a wince, and thankfully, the playful gesture lightens the air between you. “Nothing a kiss can’t sort out,” he teases, his lips quirking into a small, pouting smile, trying to bring a bit of levity to the conversation.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Let’s just make sure we don’t cause a fiasco at any more engagement parties, okay?”

Jongseong chuckles slightly, his grin widening as he tilts his head. “What if it’s at ours? Do I get groom rights to cause chaos then?”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you play along. “Well, you’d have to propose first for me even to consider that.”

Jongseong’s eyes twinkle with mischief and that same love that has always projected through from his soul as he leans in, lowering his voice to a playful whisper. “Just you wait, baby.”

_____

The heavy wooden doors of the chapel creak open, and Jongseong straightens his suit jacket, his fingers smoothing over the fabric of the black suit you had so carefully picked out for him. It’s tailored to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and tapering down to a sleek fit at his waist. The crisp white shirt underneath feels a little too tight around his collar, not because of the fit, but because of the sheer enormity of the day. He inhales deeply, gathering all the breath he knows he’ll lose the second he begins his walk down the aisle.

At 34 years old, he’s finally getting married, and it still feels surreal. Even this morning, as he stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting his tie, it all felt more nerve-wracking than he could have imagined. His hands trembled slightly, not with doubt but with anticipation. It isn’t cold feet - far from it. Marrying you is the most certain thing he’s ever felt. In fact, the only thing weighing on his chest isn’t whether or not he’s making the right choice - it’s the fact that, for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re not by his side.

Last night, the night before your wedding, was the longest you’ve spent apart in years. You’d stayed with your sister, following the superstition that the bride and groom shouldn’t see each other before the ceremony, and while it seemed trivial at first, Jongseong missed you more deeply than he ever thought possible. Since that party so many years ago, he’s spent every moment he could by your side, and now, after sharing a home, building a life together, the thought of you not being there in his bed last night left an ache he hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t the marriage that was causing him anxiety. He couldn’t wait to marry you—to say the vows, to see you in your wedding dress, to call you his wife. No, what had his stomach in knots was the thought of walking down the aisle with all eyes on him. The idea of being the centre of attention, of every gaze following his every move, from the ball of his foot to the tip of his toes, made his skin crawl. Even as a kid, Jongseong hated being the focus of a room. 

You’d always been the one to handle social situations with grace, navigating crowds, talking to guests, and subtly keeping the two of you out of the spotlight when he needed it. God, he wished you were here right now to hold his hand and whisper something to ease his nerves.

But of course, you weren’t. Tradition had stolen you away from him this morning, and now, he had to face this moment alone. The chapel, though filled with friends and family, felt overwhelmingly empty without you by his side. His heart pounded harder in his chest as the reality of the moment hit him.

Suddenly, the soft notes of music swelled from the organ, pulling him from his thoughts. It was the cue the wedding planner had told him about, the signal that it was time for him to make his way down the aisle. He stood still for a moment, nodding to himself as he acknowledged what lay ahead. The attention, the eyes on him, the anxious fluttering in his chest - it would all be worth it the second he saw you at the other end of the aisle.

With a deep breath, he steps forward. His polished black shoes make a quiet click against the stone floor of the chapel, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. Jongseong’s gaze flickers up briefly, catching sight of familiar faces in the pews. His mother, sitting proudly near the front, offers him a warm, reassuring smile. He tries to return it, but it feels stiff, nerves still crawling beneath his skin. His father gives him a subtle nod of encouragement, and Jongseong straightens his back, feeling the weight of their support behind him.

As he continues to walk, the scent of lilies and roses, the same ones you picked out together for the ceremony, fills the air. Sunlight streams in through the stained-glass windows, casting vibrant colours across the chapel floor - deep reds, purples, and golds dancing around his feet like blessings from above. He hears the faint rustle of fabric as guests turn their heads to watch him, but he keeps his eyes forward, focusing on the path ahead.

His palms are sweaty, and his pulse quickens with each step. The aisle feels impossibly long, like a steep hill with a drinking fountain waiting at the top. The rows of guests stretch on and on. Jongseong fights the urge to tug at his collar, to loosen the tie just a bit, but he knows it won’t help. Nothing can calm the storm inside him except you.

But as he nears the front, something shifts. The nervousness, the anxiety of being under watchful eyes, begins to ebb away, replaced by something else. Anticipation. Because just after this walk, after these few moments of discomfort, comes you. The love of his life. His future.

He greets your family with fondness and love as he reaches the end. Each one has become integral to his life, the definition of his second family. Jongseong's smile softens as he approaches them and offering a slight bow in respect. 

His future mother-in-law is sitting to the side, her eyes filled with warmth. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, fingers intertwined, though her expression is calm and composed. She has always been a strong presence in your life, and he feels the same quiet strength radiating from her now. She nods to him, her lips curving into a gentle smile that puts him a little more at ease. There’s a silent understanding between them - one forged through shared moments, family dinners, and heart-to-heart talks that had transformed Jongseong from a visitor into a son.

Standing next to your other bridesmaids is your sister, fidgeting slightly with the lace of her dress, her excitement palpable as the number one supporter in this relationship. She beams up at him, her eyes twinkling. She’s always been the one to bring lightness into any room, to ease tension with a well-timed joke or a teasing comment, and seeing her now, vibrant and full of life, reminds him of all the times she’d teased him for being so nervous about today. Her laughter and encouragement had helped him through many anxious moments, and her unspoken support right now is a comfort he hadn’t realised he needed.

They are his family now, just as much as his own parents sitting a few rows behind, and knowing that fills him with a sense of belonging.

Jongseong takes his position at the altar, trying to shake off the nervous tension building inside him. His friend Sunghoon is already there, waiting with a grin that’s equal parts mischief and pride. Sunghoon, who had been there for every milestone in his relationship, claps him on the back. It's surreal for both of them; after all, it was Sunghoon who dragged Jongseong to that dreadful party where you first met. Sunghoon had refused to let Jongseong skip it, even though Jongseong had dramatically declared he’d rather run naked through a field of nettles than attend. Now, Sunghoon stands by his side, proud of the role he played in bringing you both together and wearing the title of groomsman like a badge of honour.

"You look like you're about to get married," Sunghoon teases, laughter dancing in his voice. From where he stands, Sunghoon sees his best friend transformed. Jongseong’s usual cool demeanour is present, but there’s a deeper layer today - one of anticipation and raw emotion. His usually steady hands are clenched slightly, his jaw a little tighter than usual. Sunghoon notices all these small signs, but underneath them, he can see that Jongseong is just waiting to call you his wife, the need to call you Mrs. Park is what’s making him shake.

"Yeah? Too overdressed?" Jongseong jokes, trying to mask the nerves that refuse to leave him completely.

"Just a little," Sunghoon nudges him playfully. His smile fades into something more sincere. "You ready?"

Jongseong takes a deep breath before responding, his voice quiet but confident. "I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready in my life." He ignores the whispers and murmurs from the crowd, sounds he can't quite decipher. Will they be bad? Probably not, but that doesn’t stop his brain from trying to twist them into something else. What if they all think you’re settling? Still, he pushes it all aside, focusing on the one thing that matters: you.

He is so excited to see you. You had kept everything a secret - your dress, your hair, even down to your nails. He had tried every trick in the book to get even the smallest detail out of you, from sweet persuasion to playful pestering. He’d casually ask while you were busy with wedding plans or playfully guess what colour you might be wearing, trying to gauge your reaction. Each time, though, you would just smile coyly and shake your head, refusing to give anything away. Jongseong had groaned in mock frustration, but deep down, he knew it would be worth the wait. He was absolutely certain you’d look breathtaking, no matter what. You always look like the most beautiful person in the world, like the earth around you, only blooms to keep up with your beauty.

Sunghoon grins, breaking Jongseong’s thoughts. "I saw her earlier, y'know. Tried to talk her out of making a massive mistake." His tone is light, there’s no mistaking the fondness in his eyes. Sunghoon had actually visited you before the ceremony, not to convince you of anything, but to tell you how happy he was that you had come into Jongseong’s life. He had joked that he wanted a child named after him, but beneath the teasing, he was sincere. He told you how lucky he felt to witness true love up close, to see two people so in sync that it was like watching a real-life fairytale.

For Sunghoon, it was like one of the bedtime stories he read to his daughter, tales of love that transcended everything else. Sometimes, when he read those stories, his mind would drift to you and Jongseong, imagining the two of you as the characters destined for each other. Even his wife is amazed by the connection you share - two people who fit together so effortlessly that it was hard to believe. Sunghoon and his wife love one another so much, but they can recognise that you and Jongseong’s love is once in a lifetime, and they learn so much from you.

"Yeah? How did she look?" Jongseong asks, his voice tinged with hope. "Nervous? Cold feet? She’s definitely coming, right?"

Sunghoon throws his head back, laughing loudly, the sound echoing through the quiet church, eliciting some confusion on the faces of the guests. "She looks way out of your league, but no, she’s not nervous. She’s ready. In fact, she told me to let you know that you should cry when you see her. If you don’t, she’s marrying Jake instead."

Right on cue, Jake, the other groomsman, pops his head over Sunghoon’s shoulder with a wide grin. "And I will marry her in a minute, so you better get those waterworks going."

Jongseong can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. But he knows you’re serious about the tears. Your man is not one for crying, he rarely feels the need for tears, but he has a sneaking suspicion you’re going to get your wish.

The music starts, and Jongseong stiffens, his heart slamming against his ribs as if it’s trying to escape his chest and rush down the aisle to meet you. It’s only been a night since he last saw you, but to him, it feels like an eternity. The shared bed had felt too big, too cold without you beside him, and in that quiet space, he realized just how much you completed him. He missed you, and though it might seem dramatic, the longing reminded him that this wasn’t just about nerves. It was about the indescribable excitement of committing himself to you, completely and forever.

He had wanted to do this years ago, perhaps two years into your relationship rather than waiting twelve. But you had been the practical one, insisting that you both build your careers, settle into life without the added pressure of a wedding. He hadn’t minded too much; after all, what was a few more years when you had forever to spend together?

As the soft strains of music fill the chapel, Jongseong freezes. It’s an original piece - the one he had composed for you way back in the beginning of your relationship. The ballad, a quiet testament to the love he held for you even then, was something he’d never expected to hear today. Each note flows seamlessly into the next, blending together like the way his love for you has always been: fluid, effortless, natural. 

For him, loving you has never been complicated. It’s as though the melody was written not just with the keys of the piano, but with the strings of his heart. The tears, which you had so eagerly asked for, begin to gather at the corners of his eyes.

Then he sees you.

You appear at the end of the aisle, and his breath catches. Words escape him because they’re not enough to describe how radiant you are. The light from the stained-glass windows dances across your white gown, making you look as if you’re wrapped in sunlight itself. The lace of your dress hugs your figure delicately, each intricate detail shimmering as if woven from the stars. Your veil, soft as gossamer, floats behind you, catching the gentle breeze that filters through the open chapel doors. Your eyes, bright and full of love, meet his, and in that moment, Jongseong knows - if ever there was perfection, it is you.

Your beauty is beyond anything he could have imagined, like a dream come to life. You are the embodiment of every love song, every poem, every whispered promise. As you walk toward him, it feels like time slows, like the world pauses to let him savour every second, every step. You are grace personified, and all he can think is how lucky he is that this is real, that you are his.

Beside you, your father walks proudly with his arm linked through yours. His face shines with pride, his entire being glowing with joy. Jongseong feels a surge of pride for him as well. Their relationship had a rocky start, but now, four years into his sobriety, your father has become someone Jongseong admires deeply. 

The way you and your family never gave up on him taught Jongseong valuable lessons in patience, compassion, and what it means to truly love someone through their struggles. Watching your father today, standing tall and proud, Jongseong knows that all the hardships were worth it. He understands now that loving someone through their demons isn’t easy, but it’s something only the most special people can do - and you are one of those people. You have made Jongseong a better man, and he is and always will be eternally grateful for that.

When you and your father finally reach the end of the aisle, Jongseong’s breath hitches as he sees you up close for the first time. He’s lost for words, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The tears that had gathered in his eyes finally spill over as he gazes at you. Your smile is so bright, most likely happy at his reaction, and he suddenly feels like his heart is trying to burst through his chest just to meld with your own; he is so privileged you hold his heart this way.

“You look…” he starts, but the words catch in his throat.

“Like I’m ready to be your wife?” you finish with a teasing smile, your voice warm and steady.

Jongseong shakes his head, his voice cracking with emotion. “Like my everything.” 

The way he says this, so pure and genuine, your smile falters just ever so slightly, your face now wanting to express an earnest love, the kind of expression you only look at the love of your life with.

Your father, watching the exchange, beams with satisfaction. There’s a tenderness in his expression as he shakes Jongseong’s hand, pulling him into a firm embrace. “I know you’ll look after one another,” your father whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so proud to call you my son.”

The words settle deep within Jongseong’s heart, and when your father steps back to take his seat, the ceremony begins.

As the officiant begins speaking, his voice soft but clear, Jongseong can’t help but marvel at how your hand fits so perfectly in his, your fingers warm and familiar, yet somehow new, in this moment. Every word that spills from the officiant’s lips feels like background noise; all Jongseong can focus on is you. The way you stand before him, radiating beauty and calm, is enough to make his heart swell to the point of aching. You squeeze his hand softly, pulling him back to the present. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in response, a silent message of reassurance, of love. It feels as if the two of you are existing in your own world, tethered together by this secret moment amid the hum of the ceremony.

Even in a room full of people, he will always only see you.

He glances at your face, catching a fleeting look of emotion dancing in your eyes, and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms right there. You’re holding it together so well, but he knows you too well. The slight tension in your grip, the way your breath catches every now and then - it all betrays the storm of emotion beneath the surface. And it matches his own.

When the officiant calls for the vows, Jongseong inhales sharply. This is the part he’s been waiting for, and yet, the part that terrifies him the most. Not because he’s unsure, but because there’s so much to say, so much love to express, and he hopes he can convey it all with the right words.

He turns to face you, both of your hands now clasped together. He can feel the slight tremble in your fingers, mirroring the nervous excitement coursing through his own veins. The vows - this is where he gets to tell you, in front of everyone you both love, just how much you mean to him. But even as he opens his mouth, his heart beats in time with yours, each pulse echoing a silent promise of forever.

Clearing his throat, he pulls the paper from his suit pocket, calming himself.

“Y/N. I should start by saying how in love I am with you. I think it’s pretty obvious, I don’t think my heart is even mine anymore with the way you hold it. I remember the first time I ever saw you, so bored and begging to be saved from that god awful party. But it’s funny if you think about it because I didn’t save you from anything at all, you saved me - in more ways than I could ever thank you for.

You are my heart, soul, courage, fear, wonder, and love. I am you and you are me. ‘Love is a condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.’ I remember hearing that quote and never fully knowing what it meant. But since we are two people sewn together with the thread of fate, I began to understand that for me to be happy, to live in this world without regret or misery, I need to make sure I love you with every fibre of my being, to make sure you’re happy, safe, and cherished until the very end.

So today, my love, I vow to love you exactly as you are. I vow to protect you, not just from the world, but from any doubts or fears that ever try to steal your light. I vow to be the one who stands by your side when life feels too heavy, to hold you when you need comfort, and to celebrate with you when life brings you joy. I promise to love you on the days when life feels effortless, but more importantly, I vow to love you even harder on the days when it’s not.

I promise to cherish the smallest moments, the quiet mornings and the late-night talks, the laughter and even the silences that only we understand. You have made me a better man, and every day with you feels like a gift I don’t deserve, but one I will never take for granted.

I vow to never let a day go by without reminding you just how much you mean to me. To wake up every morning and choose you, choose us, over and over again. I vow to be your protector, your partner, your best friend, and your greatest supporter. Whatever life brings our way - whether it’s joy or challenges - I will be there, by your side, holding your hand through it all.

And above all, I vow to love you endlessly, fiercely, and without reservation, because you are my heart’s home, and there is nowhere else I would rather be.

Today, tomorrow, and every day after, I am yours. Forever.”

As Jongseong finishes his vows, his voice steady yet laced with emotion, you feel tears slip down your cheek. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, the overwhelming love in his words makes it impossible to hold back. You mourn the people in the pews who don’t get to experience Jongseong’s love because it is unfiltered and pure, the love people dream of and never have. He watches you closely, his eyes softening the moment he notices your tears.

Without missing a beat, Jongseong reaches up, gently brushing away the tear with the pad of his thumb, his touch as tender as his words. His fingers linger for a moment, his smile growing fond and warm as if he’s silently telling you that it’s okay, that he’s here, and that he understands how deeply his words have touched you.

Jongseong leans in just slightly, close enough for you to hear him whisper, "Maybe I should have vowed to never make you cry." His playful tone does little to hide the way his own eyes glisten, the deep emotions brimming just below the surface. 

Your lips tremble into a small smile through your tears, feeling both overwhelmed and reassured by the way he’s looking at you - as though you are the most precious thing in his world. And in that moment, you realise, you don’t have to hold anything back. You’re standing here, with the man who will cherish you for the rest of his life, and there is no need for composure, no need to hide the tears or the love that pours from you so naturally.

The officiant gives a gentle nod, signalling it’s time for your vows, but Jongseong keeps his gaze on you, his hand still cradling your cheek as if to give you strength. His smile never falters, and in his eyes, you see nothing but encouragement, affection, and a quiet promise that he will be right here, every step of the way.

You take a deep breath, your fingers trembling slightly as you hold your vows, and the room quiets in anticipation. You glance at Jongseong, your heart swelling as you realize you’re about to marry the love of your life, the man who has been your everything for so long.

“I kinda wish I went first now,” you laugh softly, stepping back to wipe your tears, earning a round of laughter from the guests. Even Jongseong chuckles, his eyes full of warmth, and the pressure lifts just a little as you prepare to speak from the heart.

“I really can’t believe I’m standing here today, two seconds away from becoming Mrs. Park. Though, let’s be real - I’m never going to be the best Mrs. Park. That title is clearly reserved for your mum,” you say with a playful smile, looking over at Jongseong’s mother. She places a hand on her heart, her eyes shining with affection, and nods back at you.

“Jongseong, standing here before you feels like a dream I’ve had my entire life. It feels like everything in the universe has led me to this moment, to you. You are my heart, my home, and the one person who makes the world feel safe and beautiful just by being in it.

People think a soulmate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. And you have changed my life Jongseong, so beautifully so. I am more confident, resilient, and passionate about my life because I have you beside me. 

There is so much love inside my body that is only reserved for you. Love is the reason we all continue to live, even through tragedies and heartbreak, we seek love in all of those moments because it’s worth living for. Jongseong, you make life worth living.

I vow to honor you with every beat of my heart, to cherish you with every breath I take. I promise to stand by you in every season, to be your unwavering support when the world feels heavy, and your biggest cheerleader when you need encouragement. I will hold your hand through the trials and celebrate with you in the triumphs, always knowing that together, we can face anything.

I vow to love you as deeply as the ocean, to be your steadfast anchor when the waves of life try to pull us apart. I promise to nurture our dreams, to build a life filled with wonder and discovery, and to always remember the simple, profound joy of being together.

You have taught me that love is not just a feeling, but a practice - one that grows and deepens every day. It is in the way we laugh together, the way we support each other’s dreams and the quiet moments when we simply hold each other close. I promise to practise this love with you, to make it a living, breathing part of our lives, one that we can carry into the afterlife and know that even if our bodies are apart through death, our hearts are always linked.

I want to be a wife who deserves you, one who never takes you for granted and gives you back tenfold the love you have for me, and God knows your love is vaster than anything else in this world. You are my heart’s truest song, and I vow to be the harmony to your melody, the gentle refrain that sings of our forever. I promise to be patient, to listen, to understand, and to always come back to you with an open heart.

Jongseong, today and every day, I choose you, not just as my partner but as my greatest adventure, my greatest joy, and my deepest love. Together, we will write a story that is uniquely ours, filled with love, laughter, and a bond that only grows stronger with time. You are my most cherished muse, wholly and completely.”

As you finish your vows, your voice quivers with emotion, and the room seems to collectively hold its breath. Jongseong’s eyes glisten with tears of joy and admiration as he kisses your forehead, his touch is tender and reassuring, and he smiles at you with a look of pure, unadulterated love. The room sighs with appreciation, moved by the heartfelt exchange.

The officiant, his own eyes misty with the beauty of the moment, clears his throat to address the couple. “Having heard these vows of unwavering love and commitment, it is now time for us to proceed with the ring exchange.”

Jongseong and you gaze deeply into one anothers eyes, the ceremony reaching its most poignant moment. The officiant gestures to Sunghoon, who steps forward, holding the rings with great reverence. With a knowing smile, he hands the rings to Jongseong, who looks at them with a sense of awe. This is it. 

“Jongseong,” the officiant prompts, “please place the ring on Y/N’s finger and repeat after me.”

Jongseong’s voice is steady but filled with emotion as he recites the traditional vows, “With this ring, I thee wed. It is a symbol of my love and devotion, a promise to cherish and honour you all the days of my life.”

As Jongseong slides the ring onto your finger, you feel its weight - a tangible representation of his love and commitment. You repeat the same words to him, your hands slightly trembling with the depth of your feelings.

The officiant smiles warmly at the couple. “May these rings be a constant reminder of the love you share and the vows you have made to each other.”

With the rings exchanged, the officiant addresses the gathering. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Jongseong leans in, his gaze locked with yours, and the world seems to fall away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. His lips touch yours with a tenderness that is both electrifying and soothing. The kiss starts softly, a gentle brush of affection, but it quickly deepens into something more passionate and heartfelt. His hands cradle your face, his thumbs gently brushing along your cheekbones, anchoring you both in the intimacy of the moment.

The warmth of his breath mingles with yours, and as the kiss unfolds, it feels like a dance - delicate and full of emotion. Jongseong’s lips move with a tender urgency, conveying the depth of his love and the gravity of the vows you’ve just exchanged. There’s gentle pressure, a shared promise in the way his mouth moves against yours as if he’s pouring all the love he holds into this one kiss.

The chapel’s applause and cheers seem distant, fading into the background as you’re wrapped in the warmth and sweetness of Jongseong’s kiss. His fingers gently trace the curve of your jaw, adding a touch of reverence to the moment. You can feel the thrum of emotion in every touch, every caress, as if he’s imprinting this perfect moment onto both of your souls.

As you slowly pull away, Jongseong’s eyes are filled with a mixture of joy and reverence. The intensity of the kiss has left both of you breathless, your hearts racing with the shared exhilaration of this new chapter. His gaze holds yours with profound happiness, and you see in his eyes the same depth of feeling that you’ve always known was there.

“I love you so fucking much, Y/N,” Jongseong confesses with more earnestness than you have ever seen in one human being. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to swear in church,” you giggle, pecking his lips to rid him of the sin.

But he’s unbothered, his emotions outweighing etiquette. He shrugs and takes your hand in his. “I think the big man upstairs will forgive me this one time.”

As Jongseong takes your hand, the two of you walk down the aisle together, the applause from your friends and family echoing through the chapel, though it now feels like nothing more than a distant murmur. His thumb gently strokes the back of your hand, and every glance he steals your way is filled with an overwhelming sense of love and pride. The weight of the moment lingers sweetly between you, as if you’re both walking on air.

Once outside, the soft sunlight bathes you both in warmth, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. This is everything you could want. 

Jongseong, ever the gentleman, jogs to reach the car first, dramatically pulling the door open with a playful grin. “After you, Mrs. Park,” he gestures with a flourish, eyes turning into sweet crescent moons as the light beams from him.

You raise an eyebrow and chuckle at his antics. “You’re enjoying this, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” he winks, guiding you gently into the car. “I love how it sounds on my tongue,” he leans down until he’s level with your face, “Mrs. Park, Mrs. Park, Mrs. Park.” 

He will repeat it until he gets bored of hearing it, which will be never and a day.

As you settle into the seat, he quickly slips in beside you, and before the door is even shut, his lips are on yours again, more urgent this time. The kiss deepens with a fervour that wasn’t quite there at the altar, and you can feel his restraint fading. He pulls you closer, his hand resting possessively on your waist, as if he’s making up for all the time he spent holding back earlier - he would have gone all in but something about tonguing you down in front of a priest and about 30 of your closest friends and family didn’t sit well with him. His lips move hungrily against yours, each kiss more intense than the last.

You let out a soft moan in response to the sudden heat, and Jongseong smirks into your mouth, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, but not before brushing his lips teasingly against yours once more. The car starts moving, but his focus is entirely on you. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his breath coming in shallow, heated bursts. The playful glint in his eyes returns as he taps the driver on the shoulder.

“Could you take us back to the hotel for a quick pit stop?” His tone is mischievous, eyes twinkling with intent.

You blink in surprise, your thoughts returning briefly to the chaos of the wedding day schedule. “But…we need to get our certificate signed, take pictures…the reception?” You eye him curiously, though a part of you already knows where this is going.

Jongseong just shrugs, utterly unbothered. “That can wait a minute. Do you have any idea how hard it was not having you last night?”

His words send a ripple of heat down your spine, and despite your initial protest, a smile tugs at your lips. “It was one night, Jongseong,” you laugh incredulously, though you know deep down you shared his struggle. There’s a certain magnetic pull between you that’s only intensified since the moment you exchanged vows.

But before you can say anything else, his mouth is on your neck, his lips trailing heated, deliberate kisses along your skin. He finds that spot just beneath your ear, the one that always leaves you breathless, and you melt into him instantly. Your earlier concerns about timing and schedules vanish, replaced by the undeniable, almost primal need for him.

Every touch, every kiss, is fuelled by the weight of the day’s emotions, and soon you’re lost in him entirely, giving in to the desire that’s been simmering between you. From love to passion, your relationship flows seamlessly between them.

Jongseong’s kisses are searing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and any remaining thoughts of the day’s schedule fade into nothing. His hands grip your waist firmly, pulling you closer as you feel the heat building between you both. The car ride blurs by in a haze of stolen kisses and whispered promises, the tension growing heavier with every touch.

Before long, the car pulls up outside the hotel, and Jongseong barely waits for the driver to open the door before he helps you out, his grip on your hand tight, his thumb brushing your wedding ring with fondness despite the heat pumping through him. 

The hotel lobby is a blur, neither of you paying attention to anything around you as he tugs you towards the lift. Once inside, his mouth is back on yours, pushing you gently against the wall, his body pressed up close, a low groan escaping his lips.

The moment the doors open to your floor, you’re both stumbling down the hallway, hands roaming, clothes being tugged at impatiently. The urgency is palpable, as if every second spent not touching is a second wasted. By the time you reach the room, Jongseong fumbles with the key card, barely able to keep his lips from yours as he finally pushes the door open.

You stumble inside together, the sheer size of your wedding dress catching between you as you attempt to navigate the small space. Jongseong laughs softly into the kiss, but neither of you cares as you pull at each other, the weight of your emotions taking over. His hands work swiftly to find the buttons and zippers hidden beneath layers of fabric, and you can feel his need for you in every motion.

Your lips part briefly, just long enough for you to gasp out between kisses, “We need to be quick, baby.” Your breath is ragged, your voice barely above a whisper, but the desperation in your tone mirrors his own.

“Quick…right,” he mutters, though there’s no sign of him slowing down. His hands are everywhere - your waist, your back, your hips - gripping and pulling as though he can’t get enough of you. He presses you up against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours again, deeper and more urgent than before.

As you pull him closer, the fabric of your dress rustles and tangles between you, but it only adds to the delicious mess of the moment. His hands slip beneath the lace, fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs, making you gasp. He smiles against your lips, that same playful glint in his eyes, but his kiss is nothing but intense.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of fumbling, Jongseong’s fingers work the last clasp on the back of your dress. The fabric slips from your shoulders, and the sensation of it gliding down your body makes you shiver. He steps back just slightly, allowing the gown to pool at your feet, his eyes following every movement with hungry intensity.

The moment he sees you standing there in nothing but the white lace lingerie beneath, his breath catches, and a flicker of pure desire ignites in his gaze. His hands, which had been so impatient before, now pause in reverence, as though he’s taking in every detail, committing this moment to memory.

“God,” he breathes out, voice thick with awe and hunger. “You’re fucking perfect, have i ever told you that?”

His words send a wave of warmth through you, your heart racing even faster under the weight of his gaze. Before you can respond, his hands find your waist again, pulling you to him. His lips crash against yours, the intensity of the kiss somehow even more fervent now that there’s nothing between you but the thin lace of your thong and his trousers.

His fingers trace the delicate patterns of the fabric, teasingly brushing over your skin in a way that makes your pulse quicken. His lips move from your mouth, trailing down your jawline to your collarbone, then lower, each kiss deliberate, driving you wild with anticipation.

“Jongseong…” You gasp, your body reacting to every touch, every kiss. The urgency from before still lingers, but there’s something deeper now - a need not just for passion, but for connection. The feeling that you’ve finally, truly become his in every way.

He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way your body responds to him, his hands sliding over the lace as though he can barely restrain himself, feeling how wet you are for him. His lips find yours again, but this time slower, deeper, as if he’s taking everything in, the moment, you, all of it.

“Quick, right?” he teases softly between kisses, but there’s now no rush in his movements now. The two of you are lost in each other, and any notion of time or urgency is forgotten as he continues to explore you, making every second feel endless and yet not nearly enough.

Jongseong’s teasing words hang in the air, and you can’t help but smile against his lips, your heart pounding in your chest. The fire between you is still blazing, but there’s a tenderness now, an unspoken understanding that this moment is more than just physical. It’s the culmination of everything - every shared glance, every whispered promise, every touch over the past 12 years.

“I’m gonna fuck you, fill you up and have you walk around the reception with my cum inside of you,” he breathes out, his hands busy undoing his dress trousers, fingers fumbling before pushing them down, the fabric pooling to his ankles, quickly making friends with your wedding dress.

The mere thought if it has you deperate, and instantly, you’re jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist, your heat craving his touch.  Jongseong lets out a low groan as you cling to him, the weight of you pressing against his cock driving his need to the surface. He catches your lips again, this time more fervently, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he practically traps you between the wall and his chest. The coolness of the hotel wall contrasts with the heat of his body, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he mutters against your lips, his voice a mix of frustration and affection. His breath is heavy, matching the rapid beat of your heart. He needs to be inside of you, and he needs it now.

As he adjusts his grip on you, his hand slides between your thighs as he pushes your thong to the side, lining himself up. The anticipation builds, and you moan softly, arching against him, silently pleading for more, the tip of his cock poking at where you need him most. He pauses for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“Ready?” he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, as if daring you to answer.

You don’t need to say a word - your body tells him everything he needs to know, but your nod anyway. “Yes, fuck, Jongseong please.”

With one smooth motion, Jongseong thrusts into you, filling you completely. A gasp escapes your lips as your bodies meld together, the intensity of the moment sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. He groans deeply, his breath ragged as he begins to move, each thrust deliberate and powerful, driving deeper into you.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your core, your senses overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you. The curve of his cock drags down your tight walls, each bump of your inner core being kissed by his bell, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His pace quickens, the need between you intensifying. Your nails dig into his back, holding him closer as he drives into you harder, deeper, the friction and heat building to an unbearable crescendo. The way he looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, filled with raw need and adoration, makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters to him in this moment.

“God, you feel so good,” he breathes out, his voice hoarse with desire. His hips snap against yours with more urgency, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he presses his forehead to yours. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Give you all of me just like you deserve.”

You can’t hold back the moans that slip from your lips, your body trembling as you near the edge. Every thrust, every touch, every breath sends you spiraling closer to that sweet release, and you can feel it building, tightening in your core.

“Can’t wait to start a family with you, baby,” he confesses, the sentence thoughtful yet primal, “What if I got you pregnant right now, huh? Would Mrs. Park like that?”

“Fuck, yes!” you mewl out, the way he says your new government name along with the promise of a family is all too overwhelming as it mixes in with the utter lust your body feels. You need him to fill you to the brim, to have each inch of him buried to the hilt of you while he pumps his seed deep into your womb. “I need you… so close…” you whisper, your voice trembling with desperation.

Jongseong's thrusts become more urgent, each one deeper and harder than the last. Your bodies move in perfect rhythm, his name slipping from your lips in a desperate moan as pleasure coils tighter within you. The world fades away, your senses filled only by the heat of his skin against yours, the heady scent of desire, and the raw intensity in his gaze as he watches you unravel beneath him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mrs. Park,” he whispers, “So pretty, and all mine.” His tone is loving if through gritted teeth, parts of the syllables coated in the desire he has running through his veins.

“I love you, Jongseong,” you whisper, kissing all over his face as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink of euphoria.

He chuckles softly, eyes almost filling with tears. “I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much.” And without another word, he kisses you with so much passion and devotion that if you weren’t already breathless from the raw fucking he is giving you, you definetly would have felt the air escape your lungs.

The pressure inside you builds relentlessly, your muscles clenching around him, drawing him deeper. He groans, a low, guttural sound that sends a thrill of electricity through your veins. His lips trail back up your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake before they crash into yours again, his kiss filled with hunger and need, as if he can’t get enough of you.

"You're perfect," he breathes against your lips, his voice strained, thick with lust. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you down harder onto him with every thrust, making you feel every inch of him. “Ready to be a mum, baby? Ready for me to fuck you senseless each and every day and use the excuse of trying?”

“Fuck yeah, Jongseong, I can’t wait.” The grin on your face contorts with pure pleasure as he takes your words and runs wild with them, making good on his promise. If it isn’t today, or tomorrow, or even in the next year, he will make sure he keeps fucking you, until both of you create something wonderful, until you create a family that’s bigger than what you both are now.

You cling to him, nails scraping against his back as waves of pleasure crash over you with every buck of his hips. His pace is relentless now, hips slamming into yours with raw, unfiltered passion, each motion pushing you closer to the edge. Your vision blurs, the world spinning as the sensation intensifies, your body trembling uncontrollably.

You can feel him pulsing inside you, the tension in his body telling you that he's close, just as you are. His name is the only word you can form as your release builds to a peak, the pressure inside you unbearable. He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on you, completely focused as he watches you fall apart in his arms.

"Cum for me," he growls, his voice a rough command that sends a shudder through you.

At his words, the coil inside you snaps, and you let go completely. A cry escapes your lips as the orgasm tears through you, your entire body trembling violently as pleasure floods your senses. You grip onto him like he's the only thing grounding you, your nails digging into his skin as wave after wave of ecstasy courses through you.

Jongseong’s own release follows soon after, his body shuddering as he empties himself inside you, his groans of pleasure vibrating against your neck. His movements slow but remain deep, deliberate, prolonging the sensation as both of you ride the aftershocks of pleasure. You can feel his warmth spreading through you, just as he promised, and the thought of it sends a final tremor through your body.

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of the moment still clinging to you as Jongseong’s weight presses you gently against the wall. His chest heaves against yours, and the only sound is the ragged rhythm of your breaths mingling in the charged air.

Slowly, Jongseong pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His fingers trace softly over your flushed skin, and the intensity in his eyes gives way to a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. A satisfied smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he leans in to kiss you again, this time with a slow, sweet tenderness that deepens the connection between you.

“You okay?” he whispers, his voice soft and reverent as his thumb caresses the curve of your jaw.

You nod, breathless and still tingling from the afterglow. “More than okay,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

“Good,” he chuckles, his eyes glinting with mischief. He sets you down gently, supporting you until your legs regain their strength. “We have a reception to get back to, after all.”

With a deft, almost intimate touch, his fingers slip between your sensitive folds, gathering his essence before gently pushing it back inside you. His gaze remains locked with yours, a mix of possessiveness and adortation. “Keep that in there until I can steal you away again and give you more.”

Giggling, you nod, biting your lip. You really cannot wait for the day you have this man’s child.

_____

Jongseong bursts into the hospital, his breath ragged, his vision blurred by the panic that clogs his thoughts. The fluorescent lights overhead feel too bright, their sterile, clinical glow only exacerbating the coldness gripping his chest. A sharp antiseptic smell wafts through the air, mingling with the faint hum of machinery and the occasional cough from sick patients in the waiting area. The beeps of heart monitors and distant murmurs of conversation all blur into a single cacophony, lost on him as his sole focus narrows to one desperate objective: finding you.

His eyes dart wildly across the expanse of the lobby, scanning for some kind of guidance. There, tucked away in the corner, is an oak reception desk. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with a sympathetic smile, taps away at her computer, unaware of the storm about to come her way. Jongseong rushes over, his heart pounding, each thud reverberating in his ears like the ticking of a countdown he can’t afford to lose.

"Excuse me, do you know where the maternity ward is?" The words tumble from his mouth in a breathless jumble, barely coherent even to his own ears. It doesn’t sound like him - this frantic, uncollected version of himself - but he doesn’t care. He can’t afford to. His gaze flickers briefly to the woman behind the desk as she begins to reply, her voice gentle, almost calming, in stark contrast to the chaos raging inside him.

"You're in the wrong section, sweetheart. Maternity is ward 48, it's down the ha-"

But he doesn't wait for her to finish. Her words are cut short as he spins on his heel, legs propelling him down the long, seemingly endless corridor. His heart is racing, but not from the sprint. It’s the weight of fear, the gnawing dread that tightens his chest and churns his stomach. He might miss it. He might miss you. Miss being by your side when you need him the most. The thought alone makes his insides twist, as though someone had reached into his ribcage and clenched his heart in a fist.

This is supposed to be a joyous moment - the birth of his son, your son, the culmination of months of waiting, preparing, and dreaming. But right now, all he feels is the gnawing anxiety that he won’t make it in time. That he won’t be there to hold your hand, to look into your eyes and tell you that you’re doing great, that everything will be okay. 

His mind races back to when he received the call from your sister, the news hitting him like a freight train. He had been at work, neck-deep in paperwork and deadlines. He had barely believed it at first. You weren’t due for another two weeks; surely, this was a mistake. Yet, here you were, two floors above him, about to deliver his precious son into the world.

But none of that matters now. What matters is getting to you, being by your side before it’s too late. 

His legs burn as he pushes himself forward, following the overhead signs that guide him toward ward 48. The corridors stretch out before him like a maze, every turn only amplifying the desperation pooling in his chest. The sharp click of his shoes echoes loudly in the silence, but all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears, the frantic beat of his own heart drowning out everything else.

When he finally crashes into the ward’s front desk, it’s not graceful. His body slams into the counter, breath heaving, his muscles taut with adrenaline. He grips the edge of the desk as though it's the only thing keeping him upright. "Excuse me, what room is Y/N Park in?" The words come out strained, his voice thick with tension. Every fibre of his being feels stretched to the breaking point, as though his body is barely containing the swell of emotions surging through him.

The receptionist looks up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. There’s a knowing look in her eyes, one that says she’s seen this before - fathers on the verge of breaking, desperate to be there, to not miss the moment that changes everything. "Down the hall, third door on your left," she says kindly, nodding toward the direction he needs to go.

He doesn’t wait. With a sharp intake of breath, he pushes himself off the counter and bolts toward your room, his legs moving on autopilot, every step pounding with urgency. His mind races, imagining you lying there, scared or in pain, and it tears at him. You shouldn’t have to go through this by yourself. He swore to be there, to hold your hand through every step of this, and now he’s running on borrowed time.

The corridor leading to your room feels impossibly long, each door blurring past him as he counts them off in his head. First door, second door...third door. His hand trembles as it reaches for the handle, the weight of the moment crashing over him like a wave. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the truth is, nothing can prepare him for this. The surge of love, fear, and anticipation battling inside him is overwhelming, but all of it pales in comparison to the thought of you.

When he opens the door, his heart nearly stops. There you are, lying in the hospital bed, your face flushed with exertion but glowing with a strength he has always admired. You look up, and the moment your eyes meet his, it’s as if time itself stops. Relief floods your features, and he rushes to your side, gripping your hand as though it’s the only tether keeping him grounded.

"I’m here," he breathes, his voice cracking with emotion, kissing all over your hand. "I’m here, baby."

And as you squeeze his hand, the world narrows to just the two of you. The chaos of the hospital fades into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breathing, the soft murmurs of encouragement from the midwife, and the quiet reassurance that, despite everything, he made it. He’s here.

“Okay, Y/N, I need you to push again for me. You’re doing so great, hun.” The midwife's voice is soft, almost a lullaby amidst the storm of chaos within you. It’s as if her words offer you a momentary anchor, a delicate thread of calm amidst the crashing waves of pressure building up inside your body. You nod, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling with exhaustion, but her voice mixed with the familiar warmth of Jongseong’s hand in yours somehow gives you strength. His fingers, strong and steady, wrap around yours, grounding you in this moment of overwhelming intensity.

He whispers soothing words, his thumb brushing over your clammy skin, wiping the sheen of sweat from your brow. But you barely register them. The noise of the hospital fades into the background as your body screams for release. It’s all-consuming, this pain—a deep, primal ache that makes you wonder how anyone could endure this more than once. You’re making a vow to yourself in this very moment: this is definitely the last time you’ll be giving birth.

The midwife’s calm encouragement pulls you back into the moment. “That’s it, you’re doing brilliantly, sweetie! He’s crowning!”

Her words send a jolt of both fear and anticipation down your spine. He’s almost here. You’re almost at the end. But it hurts - God, it fucking hurts. You can feel your body stretching, tearing, and it feels impossible, like your entire being is being pulled apart at the seams. You wonder how anyone survives this. You wonder how people choose to do this again and again. But the end is so close now, you can feel it, and it’s that thought, that hope, that pushes you to dig deep into a reserve of strength you didn’t even know you had.

Jongseong leans in, his face inches from yours as he wipes the sweat off your forehead. His touch is gentle, careful, as though you might shatter under the intensity of what’s happening. “My beautiful girl, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. His words are meant to comfort you, but in your overstimulated state, they fall flat, like a pebble tossed into a stormy sea.

"You did this to me!" you cry out, your voice a strangled mixture of rage, exhaustion, and raw pain. The agony, the pressure, the sensation of your body trying to expel a living, breathing being from your core - it’s all too much. The frustration bubbles up and spills out as you glare at him through half-lidded eyes, loathing him, if only for a second, for putting you in this impossible situation.

Jongseong doesn’t take offence. Instead, he chuckles under his breath, a sound almost swallowed by the sheer intensity of the moment. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, seemingly immune to the iron grip you’ve got on his hand, your fingers squeezing so tightly it’s a wonder his bones aren’t crushed. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the tension. “I’m a bad man for giving you the best fucks of your life and putting you in this situation, aren’t I?”

Despite the searing pain wracking your body, you manage a weak, breathless laugh. His words, paired with the earnest yet amused look on his face, somehow cut through the fog of agony. For a brief, fleeting moment, the tension in the room eases, and even the nursing team joins in with a soft chuckle, their eyes sparkling with fondness.

“You’re the worst,” you retort, your voice strained, yet the humour dances between you like a fleeting lifeline. You don’t mean it, and once your beautiful baby is in your arms, you’ll forget every resentment towards your husband, the pain long gone and only love clouding your senses.

But the pain comes roaring back in full force, and the midwife’s voice cuts through the moment. “Alright, Y/N, I need you to push again. Just one more big push, okay?”

You nod, though you don’t trust your voice to respond. Your entire body tenses as you prepare for the final stretch, the last hurdle. The pressure builds, an unbearable weight pushing down on you, and with one last groan - deep, guttural, like a battle cry those old vikings used to do - you bear down, gripping Jongseong’s hand with all the strength you have left.

“You’re doing it, Y/N! That’s it, keep going!” The midwife’s voice is urgent but encouraging, guiding you through the overwhelming sensations. The room seems to blur at the edges, your vision tunnelling as you focus on nothing but the task at hand. You feel the burn, the rawness of your body stretching beyond its limits, but you push through it, every fibre of your being screaming for this to be over.

And then, with one final, agonised push, it is.

A high, piercing cry fills the room, cutting through the tension like a blade, and suddenly the world stills. The pain, the fear, the exhaustion - all of it fades away as you hear the first wail of your son, your precious baby boy. You collapse back against the pillows, your chest heaving, tears slipping down your cheeks as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

Jongseong is crying too. His hand is shaking as he wipes his eyes, his gaze locked on the tiny, wriggling figure in the midwife’s arms. “He’s here,” he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “Our boy… he’s here.”

The midwife checks your son over for a moment, and once she deems everything is perfectly healthy and fine, she offers you a small smile. “Would you like skin-to-skin?”

Without hesitation, you nod, exhaustion clouding over you. “Yes, please.”

The midwife places your newborn son on your chest, his tiny body warm and wet against your skin. You feel a rush of emotions - love, relief, awe - all of it crashing over you in waves so powerful they steal the breath from your lungs. Jongseong’s hand is reaches up to your face, his fingers trembling as he brushes a tear from your cheek.

“You did it,” he breathes, his eyes shining with pride and wonder. “You really did it, my love.”

You look down at your baby, his small hand curling against your chest, and despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs, you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “We did it,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your son’s soft cries.

And in that moment, as the three of you are cocooned in the quiet warmth of the hospital room, the world outside ceases to exist. There is only this. Only the love, the relief, and the overwhelming sense of joy that, despite everything, you’re finally a family.

Bringing life into the world is a moment of pure wonder, filled with a sense of awe and joy that nothing else compares to. The arrival of a new soul, fresh and full of potential, feels like the universe itself holding its breath in reverence. It’s beautiful chaos, tears of relief, the quiet weight of a newborn in your arms, the sweet fatigue that follows the storm of labour. There's a rawness, a vulnerability to it that makes it sacred. The start of life is an unspoken promise, a beginning with endless possibilities stretching out before it.

But as beautiful as the act of bringing life into the world is, it's devastatingly cruel when life is taken away. 

_____

Jongseong ascended the stairs slowly, each step sending a dull ache through his brittle bones. His knees groaned under his weight, no longer the strong, agile legs that had once carried him with ease through the vigours of life. The years had settled deep into his joints, a reminder of a long life lived. At seventy-five, his body had become an archive of memories, each wrinkle and creak a testament to the passage of time. But he didn’t mind, not really. He knew aging was inevitable, and while he wasn’t the fit man he used to be, he had grown accustomed to the slower pace, to the small sacrifices his body demanded. Today, though, his knees seemed to be protesting more than usual.

The morning was still quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that only early dawn could bring. Jongseong had woken up earlier than you, something he had done a bit more often lately. Your still frame lay blissfully as he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake you. He wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed, nothing extravagant, just something simple and sweet. Toast, a little bowl of fruit, and your favourite yoghurt arranged neatly on a tray. And, of course, a tiny daisy from the garden, a little burst of yellow and white placed beside the cutlery - a small token of the love he still carried for you, as bright and fresh as the day he’d first met you.

He smiled to himself as he finally reached the top of the stairs, breathing out heavily. His chest rose and fell slowly as he gathered the air back into his lungs, a satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. “Y’know, baby, maybe we should invest in that stairmaster,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head at the thought. “My knees are giving up on me here.”

He pushed open the door to your shared bedroom, the familiar scent of lavender and old wood welcoming him in. The room was a sanctuary, a place where the two of you had spent decades creating a life together. The walls seemed to hum with memories - of laughter, whispered arguments, nights spent comforting a scared baby Jeyou when he was small, his little body tucked between the two of you as you soothed his fears. Even now, the room felt like a cocoon of warmth, filled with the quiet reassurance of a life well-lived together.

Jongseong’s eyes softened as they landed on you. There you were, lying so peacefully, your grey hair splayed across the pillow, half of your face buried into its softness. Your lashes rested delicately on your wrinkled cheeks, and even now, after all these years, you looked so beautiful to him. He’d always loved watching you sleep, loved the way your face relaxed into a soft serenity. He stood there for a moment, tray still in hand, just looking at you, his heart swelling with the same love that had carried him through all the challenges, all the joys and sorrows of life. Every wrinkle on your face told a story he cherished, every line a map of the life you had built together.

But as he stood there, something shifted. The quietness in the room felt...different. The silence was deeper, more still than usual. He tilted his head, waiting for the familiar soft snort you made when you exhaled in your sleep, or for the small rise and fall of your chest that always reassured him. 

But none of that came.

His heart, which had been so full just moments ago, plummeted in his chest. A chill washed over him, the warmth of the room suddenly replaced with a growing panic.

“Love?” His voice was uncertain, his body moving on instinct as he placed the tray down on the dresser by the door. His legs, tired just a second ago, suddenly felt weightless as he rushed to your side. “Y/N?” He sat on the bed, his voice trembling now. “Baby, come on, wake up.”

He reached out, brushing the hair from your face, the strands falling softly between his trembling fingers. His hand lingered on your cheek, feeling for the warmth he had always known, but your skin felt cool beneath his touch. Too cool.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking. His other hand found your shoulder, shaking you gently at first, and then with more urgency. “No, no, no. Come on, baby, stop joking around. Wake up. Please.”

The stillness of your body was a stark contrast to the frantic tremor in his hands. He shook you again, harder this time, but you remained as you were - so peaceful, so unbearably still. His chest tightened, the tears pooling in his eyes blurring his vision. He blinked rapidly, as though he could chase away the truth that was slowly sinking in, but it was there, gnawing at the edges of his heart.

“Please, baby, please. Don’t do this. I need you to wake up.” His voice was barely a whisper now, broken and fragile, like a child pleading for a nightmare to end. He pulled you closer, his trembling fingers gripping your arms as he collapsed over you, his body draped across yours as the sobs tore through him. The tears fell freely now, landing on your skin, tiny droplets of his heartbreak mingling with the softness of your stillness.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice strangled by grief. “Please. Don’t leave me. Not now. I’m not ready.”

The room, once so full of love and warmth, felt unbearably cold now. The silence stretched on, suffocating him, pressing down on his chest until he could barely breathe. He held you tightly, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, as if by sheer will alone he could pull you back, make you breathe again, make your heart beat again. But you didn’t move. You didn’t stir.

Jongseong’s tears soaked into your skin, his sobs shaking his frail frame. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart, every beat more painful than the last. He pressed his cheek against your forehead, inhaling the faint scent of your skin, the scent that had been a constant comfort to him for all these years. But now, even that was fading, slipping away like you had.

“I can’t do this without you,” he cried, his voice breaking as he held you tighter. “We’ve always done everything together. How am I supposed to keep going if you’re not here? Please, baby, please...just come back to me.”

But there was no response, no stirring beneath his touch. Only silence. The kind of silence that comes with finality, with the weight of something precious being stolen away forever.

He stayed there, curled up beside you, his tears flowing unchecked, his heart heavy with the unbearable realisation that the love of his life, the woman who had been his everything for decades, was gone. The weight of it settled into his bones, deeper than any ache he’d felt before. This wasn’t just the weight of age, but of loss - a weight that would never truly lift.

For a long time, Jongseong didn’t move. He stayed wrapped around you, whispering soft apologies, broken words of love, promises that no longer had a future. His tears mingled with the daisy he’d picked for you, now wilting beside the untouched tray on the dresser, a small, fragile symbol of the life that had once bloomed between the two of you.

Jongseong's sobs gradually gave way to a trembling stillness as he lay beside you, his breaths coming in ragged, shuddering gasps. The tears had begun to slow, leaving trails of salt on his cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the breakfast tray that had once held such promise. The quiet of the room felt like a heavy blanket, oppressive and final. It was the kind of silence that seemed to stretch endlessly, a cruel reminder of what was now lost.

He pulled himself up slightly, lifting his head from where it had been buried in your shoulder. His eyes, red and swollen, scanned the room - the room that had been a sanctuary of shared dreams and countless memories. He looked at the framed photographs on the bedside table: the smiling faces of a younger you and him, the family portraits, snapshots of Jeyou through the years. It was all a tapestry of a life lived together, and now, it felt like a cruel joke.

“C’mon, love,” he said, his voice hoarse but resolute. He took your hand in his, holding it gently, trying to draw strength from the familiar warmth that was no longer there. “We still have so much more to do.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on, his mind desperately clinging to the plans they had made, the future they had envisioned.

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his fingers tracing the lines of your hand with a tenderness born of countless shared moments. “Remember, we were going to finish the garden? We talked about planting those roses in the front yard. You always said you wanted to see them bloom better than the witches next door. And the trip to the lake -  Jeyou’s been asking about that fishing trip for ages. You promised him, remember? We were going to take him and Minhee out there and teach them how to catch those big trout.”

Jongseong’s tears began to flow again, mixing with the desperate, pleading edge in his voice. “What about Jeyou?” he continued, his voice breaking. “You can’t leave him behind. We’ve always been a family. He needs you, just like I do. He’s grown up so much, and he still needs his mum. We were going to watch him grown old and brittle like us, how can you do that if you don’t wake up, huh?”

He bent his head, his forehead resting against the cool, unmoving surface of your hand. “Fuck, baby,” he whispered, the words barely audible through the sobs that wracked his body. “If you can’t come back for me, come back for him. Please, please, please. Don’t leave him with just memories of you. He needs you. I need you.”

His pleas hung in the air, a desperate cry to the silence that had become so final. He squeezed your hand, the small, gentle action a futile attempt to make you respond, to bring you back. The room felt impossibly cold now, the warmth of shared dreams replaced by the chilling finality of loss.

He stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding your hand, whispering promises and plans that would never come to pass. The light from the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room, but it seemed to mock him now. The day they had planned, the future they had envisioned together, was slipping away, drowned in the ocean of his grief.

Jongseong’s heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand pieces, each shard a fragment of a life that would never be. He tried to imagine moving forward, but every vision was tainted by your absence. The world outside, with its ongoing rhythm and pulse, felt distant and irrelevant compared to the hollow ache that had settled within him.

_

Jongseong stood by your grave, the ache in his chest so profound it felt like it had hollowed him out completely. He had known, of course, that your funeral would be difficult but nothing, not even the endless condolences and the gentle words from well-meaning friends and family, could have prepared him for this kind of pain. The grief gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. It was the kind of hurt that no words could soothe, no embrace could soften. Nothing - except you.

His black suit hung loose on his frame, a stark contrast to the confident man he had once been. His posture, usually straight and proud, was slouched, his shoulders weighed down by the unbearable burden of loss. His face, pale and drawn, was a shadow of the man who once carried the light of the world in his heart. That light, he feared, had been taken with you. Since the moment you passed, the world had dimmed, and he wondered if he would ever feel warmth again. When the earth loses the sun, there is only darkness that remains.

He hasn’t slept. How could he? The bed is too big, too cold, too empty without you. Every night since your passing, he had lain awake, staring at the ceiling, his hand reaching across the bed to where you used to be, only to be met with nothing. He would run his fingers over the cool, empty space, the ache in his heart growing stronger with each passing minute. The silence was unbearable, the kind that swallowed him whole. He wondered how he was supposed to go on without you when every reason for his existence was tied to you. You had been his purpose, his love, his everything.

Since he was twenty-two years old, he had known nothing but being your other half. You had been there with him through every step, every joy, every heartbreak, every victory. Now, you weren’t here, and it felt as though half of him had been torn away, leaving a void that nothing could ever fill. His hand felt empty, void of your comforting squeezes, the way you used to reassure him with just a touch. He would never feel that again. He would never hear your laugh, never see your smile light up a room, never feel the warmth of your embrace. The thought was unbearable, a suffocating weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe.

Choking back a sob, Jongseong clenched his jaw and squeezed his throat shut, trying desperately to keep himself together, if not for himself, then for the family who stood around him. He knew they were hurting too, how could they not be, when you had been the centre of their lives as well? But it was hard. It was so hard to stand there and be strong when his insides were crumbling, when every fibre of his being screamed for you. He stared at the ground, his vision blurred by tears, the earth below looking so final, so cold.

The sky overhead was grey, a dull blanket of clouds that seemed to mirror the grief that hung in the air. The wind was gentle, but even the breeze felt like it carried sadness, the chill sinking into Jongseong’s bones. It felt as though the world itself had lost its colour, its vibrancy, ever since you had gone. The trees that surrounded the cemetery stood still, their leaves barely rustling, as if even nature was mourning. Every corner of the graveyard seemed muted, the flowers on the graves dull and lifeless, the headstones stark and lonely. Even the birds seemed quieter today, as though they too understood the magnitude of the loss.

Jongseong forced himself to look up, his eyes finding Jeyou across the gravesite. His son stood beside his wife, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, his gaze locked on the casket that had been lowered into the ground. Jongseong’s heart ached even more at the sight of him. 

He wanted so desperately to be strong for Jeyou, for your son. He wanted to walk over and put a hand on his shoulder, to tell him everything would be alright, to hold him the way he had when Jeyou was a little boy, scared and unsure of the world. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t be anything for anyone right now, because the one person who had always given him the strength to carry on was gone.

Ara came up beside him then, slipping her arm through his. She didn’t say anything, after all, what could she say? There were no words that could take away the pain. Jongseong felt her presence beside him, her quiet support, but even that couldn’t bridge the gap that had opened up in his heart. Ara’s touch was gentle, her hand squeezing his arm, but the void inside him was too vast, too deep for even the love of his granddaughter to reach.

The priest’s voice droned on in the background, speaking the final words of the burial, but the words seemed to drift away, lost in the weight of the moment. Jongseong could barely hear them over the pounding of his heart, over the sound of his own ragged breaths. He clenched his fists, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free again. He didn’t want to fall apart, not here, not in front of everyone. But how could he not, when the love of his life was leaving him forever?

Jongseong bit his lip, his eyes glassy as he glanced down to your coffin-covered body, as if searching for some kind of reassurance. But there was none to give. This was it. This was the end. You were gone, and there was no miraculous happy ending where you would come back to him, where you would smile and tell him you were never going to leave. There was only the harsh, brutal reality that he would have to live the rest of his life without you.

Jongseong’s knees buckle slightly as the final prayer is spoken, and he feels Ara tighten her grip on his arm, grounding him, keeping him upright. He wants to collapse, to lie beside you and never get up. He wants to close his eyes and pretend that this was all just a terrible dream. But it isn’t. The casket in the ground is real, the earth that will cover it is real, and you are truly gone.

Jongseong let out a shaky breath, the air catching in his throat as he continued to stare at the grave. The casket, now partially covered by the earth, felt like a cruel finality, the last barrier between him and the love of his life. The flowers scattered around the site seemed dull in the overcast light, their once vibrant colours muted by the grief that hung over the cemetery like a thick fog. Everything seemed too quiet, too still, as if the world itself had paused in reverence to the enormity of his pain.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing with the agony of knowing that this was the end—no more shared mornings, no more gentle touches, no more stolen glances. The weight of it all made his chest tighten, a crushing force that left him gasping for breath. He could hardly believe that this was real, that the woman who had been his reason for living for so many years was now gone, leaving him to navigate a life he no longer knew how to live.

Ara tugged gently at his arm, her silent plea to move, to take a step forward. Jongseong hesitated, his feet rooted to the ground, unwilling to leave the spot where you lay. His eyes remained fixed on the grave, as if by staring hard enough, he could will you back into existence, could bring you back to him. But he knew it was futile. You were gone, and no amount of wishing or hoping could change that.

With a deep, ragged breath, Jongseong finally allowed Ara to lead him away. His feet dragged against the soft ground, every step feeling like a betrayal, a distancing from the life you had shared. Ara’s head stayed resting on his shoulder, her silent support both a comfort and a reminder of the family you had built together. He felt the weight of her love, the warmth of her presence, but it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same without you.

As they moved slowly away from the grave, Jongseong couldn’t resist one last glance back. His eyes, swollen and red from the tears that had yet to stop, locked onto the casket once more, now almost completely covered by the earth. It looked so final, so unbearably permanent. The soft hum of the wind through the trees seemed to carry with it a whisper of the life they had once known, a life that was now out of reach.

The grey sky overhead mirrored the dull ache in his heart, its heavy clouds hanging low as if they, too, mourned the loss of something irreplaceable. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fresh flowers, but even that felt too bittersweet, a cruel reminder of the beauty that could still exist in a world where you no longer did.

As Jongseong allowed himself to be guided away, his shoulders hunched under the weight of grief, he knew that a part of him would forever remain at that graveside, buried alongside you. The rest of the world moved on around him, but for Jongseong, time had stopped the moment you left. Each step he took felt like a journey into an unknown future, a future without you by his side.

And as they walked further and further away, the image of your grave growing smaller in the distance, Jongseong couldn’t help but whisper under his breath, a final, desperate plea to the universe. “Wait for me, love…just wait for me.”

His words faded into the wind as Ara squeezed his arm gently, and together, they walked away from the place where his heart now lay, buried with you.

____

"I miss her," he says, his voice trembling slightly, breaking the stillness. It’s not just a simple statement—it’s a confession, raw and unfiltered, the kind that makes his chest ache as though his heart is being twisted by an invisible hand. He can feel the familiar sting of unshed tears burning behind his eyes, but he fights them back.

The living room is quiet again, but the kind of quiet that suffocates rather than soothes. Jongseong sits on the edge of the worn couch, his eyes fixed on the photographs that line the mantle. They are still - frozen moments of a life that once brimmed with joy and love. His mind drifts back to the present after the painful journey through memory, and he sighs, his heart heavy with the weight of a year without you.

The pain, sharp as it is, feels like a key turning inside him, unlocking emotions he thought he had long buried. A year. A whole year without you. Not a single day has passed where he doesn’t think of you. The mornings are the worst, when he still, out of habit, sets out two cups for coffee. He never drinks the second one - it just sits there, untouched, a quiet tribute to your absence. The daytime programmes you loved continue to play on the television, though they bring him no comfort, just the dull hum of voices filling a void. Visiting your grave has become his ritual, the only place where he feels some semblance of peace, though even that is shadowed by the overwhelming loneliness.

Jeyou shifts beside him, his own expression mirroring his father’s grief. He reaches out, gripping Jongseong’s hand with a firm, comforting squeeze. "I can't imagine what this day is like for you, Dad," Jeyou says, his voice soft, heavy with understanding. After all, he lost his mum, the one woman who sacrificed everything for him to attend the best schools, follow his dreams, and always made him feel like he belonged in this horrible world. 

He misses your soothing words, particularly on days like today, when he would give anything for your advice.

Jongseong swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head slightly. "I only pray that you go first before your partner, so you don’t have to deal with this suffering," he replies, his voice hoarse but sincere. He knows how morbid it must sound, talking so freely about his son’s death, but he means every word. Losing the love of your life is an agony he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, let alone Jeyou. It’s not something you ever get over. The pain is deep, cutthroat, and unrelenting, carving out pieces of your soul until you’re hollowed out, just an echo of who you used to be.

They continue talking for the next few hours, the conversation a gentle distraction, though the sorrow lingers in every pause, every shared glance. Minji and Minhee return from outside, running about the room, their laughter a bright but distant sound in Jongseong’s ears. He watches them, a small smile flickering on his lips. Their energy, their innocence, is a reminder that life does go on, even when it feels like yours has stopped.

As the night begins to peer it’s head, it’s time for them to go. Jongseong hates goodbyes now, even the small ones. Ara looks particularly reluctant to leave, her brow furrowed in worry as she watches her grandfather. She’s always been able to read him like a book, even as a child, and now she can see the light fading from his eyes, just as it has been ever since you left.

"I’ll pop around tomorrow, okay? We’ll get you some shopping in," Jeyou says, standing up and shrugging into his jacket, his eyes lingering on his father’s frail form. Jongseong looks thinner these days, the years catching up to him faster than ever before.

"Thanks, son," Jongseong replies, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. He knows how much of a burden it must be, looking after him, checking in on him. He should be the one taking care of everyone, the way he used to, but these days, it’s hard just to get out of bed in the mornings. The world feels heavier.

Minji and Minhee run up to their Poppy, throwing their arms around him in a tight hug. He leans down, pulling them close, inhaling the sweet scent of their hair as he squeezes them back with as much strength as he can muster.

"Be good, okay? I’ll see you soon," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Minji giggles and gives him one last squeeze before darting off towards the car, while Minhee sighs in compassion for his great grandfather before following his little sister. He doesn’t know the full extent of everything that goes on, but he knows the old man is hurting. 

Jeyou lingers a moment longer, his eyes searching his father’s face. There’s concern there, etched deep into his features. "Look after yourself, Dad. I mean it," he says, his tone firm but filled with love.

Jongseong nods, offering a faint smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. "I will," he says quietly, but they both know it’s more of a promise to make Jeyou feel better than a commitment Jongseong truly believes in.

As the door closes behind them, Jongseong stands by the window, watching as the car pulls away, his heart sinking deeper into the loneliness that has become his constant companion. The house, once filled with life and laughter, feels far too quiet now. He turns, his gaze drifting back to the photographs on the mantle - snapshots of a life well-lived, of love shared, of a happiness he fears he will never feel again.

With a sigh, Jongseong walks to the mantle and gently picks up the frame holding your picture. His thumb brushes over the glass, tracing the contours of your face, his chest tightening with the ache of missing you.

‘Look after yourself,’ Jeyou had said. But how could he, when the one person who made life worth living was gone?

As the silence wraps itself around him once more, Jongseong sets the picture back in its place, his heart heavy with the weight of another day without you.

Climbing up the stairs, he makes his way to your bedroom, the day draining him of everything he has left. Jongseong steps into the bedroom, the air feels heavier, thick with memories and the lingering presence of you. The familiar scent of lavender still clings to the room, though it’s faded over time, much like the vibrant colours of the quilt you both once shared. He pauses by the doorframe, his eyes falling instinctively to your side of the bed. It’s exactly as you left it - untouched, sacred. He’s been afraid to disrupt it, afraid that even the slightest disturbance might somehow break the fragile connection he feels with you, like it might shake you wherever you are in the universe.

But tonight is different. Tonight, the ache of missing you is unbearable.

Slowly, Jongseong crosses the room, each step feeling heavier than the last. His heart hammers in his chest, his breath shallow as he reaches the bed. He hesitates for a moment, his trembling fingers reaching out to touch your pillow, the one that still sees your head laying upon. Tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision, but he doesn’t wipe them away. He lets them fall freely, each drop a testament to the love he’s carried for you all these years, a love that still refuses to fade even in your absence.

With a shaky breath, Jongseong lowers himself onto your side of the bed, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. It feels strange at first, like he’s intruding on a space that should remain untouched, but the yearning to feel close to you again overpowers the guilt. He lies down, resting his head on your pillow, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as his tears soak into the fabric.

“I love you, Y/N. More than my heart and chest can hold in,” he whispers into the empty room, the same words he had once said to you all those years ago when he first confessed his love. It feels like an echo, like his heart is trying to reach across the vast distance between him and wherever you are now, hoping that you can hear him, feel him.

He swallows the lump in his throat, his body trembling with grief. "I don’t know how to do this without you, Y/N. Everything... everything is so hard now. Even getting out of bed in the morning. There’s no joy in anything anymore." His voice lowers to a near whisper, almost as though he’s confessing to the universe itself. 

The room feels impossibly quiet, the stillness pressing down on him. His mind races with memories of you, of your laughter, the way your smile could light up even the darkest day, how your hand in his made everything feel right. He presses his face into the pillow, inhaling deeply as if he could somehow capture the last remnants of your presence.

Jongseong closes his eyes, exhaustion creeping up on him, though it’s not the kind that can be cured by sleep. It’s a soul-deep weariness, the kind that comes from carrying too much pain for too long. He hasn’t allowed himself to cry like this in a while, always trying to stay strong for the family, but here, in the silence of your bedroom, he finally lets himself feel the full weight of his grief.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispers, his voice barely audible now. "I don’t know how to live in a world without you. I miss you so much it hurts... I just want to feel you beside me again, even if only for a moment."

He feels the tears slip down his cheeks, hot and unrelenting, but he’s too tired to wipe them away. His body sinks deeper into the bed, the familiar warmth of the blankets enveloping him, though it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same without you.

Jongseong closes his eyes, his hand clutching your pillow as if it were you, as if holding on tight enough could bring you back. The exhaustion weighs heavier on him now, pulling him under, and before he knows it, he’s drifting off to sleep - something that has eluded him since you passed.

Jongseong lies still, his breath slowing as the quiet of the room wraps around him like a blanket. The familiar scent of your pillow soothes the ache in his chest, though not entirely. His hand remains clutching the pillow, his knuckles white against the soft fabric, as if holding on just a little tighter might somehow bring you back.

His frail body begins to relax, the weight of the years and grief easing off his tired shoulders. His eyelids grow heavy, the darkness behind them more inviting than the empty, lonely room. He inhales deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you; he swears he can feel you surrounding him.

Jongseong’s heart, worn and bruised by your absence, finds a strange calm. The sharp pain of loss that has haunted him for so long softens, as if your presence - though unseen - soothes him, guiding him gently. He can almost hear your voice, soft and familiar, calling his name from somewhere far off, yet so close.

Exhaustion weighs heavier now, pulling him further into that quiet space between sleep and memory. His body sinks deeper into the mattress, the aches in his bones easing as his breathing slows. In the stillness, each breath comes softer, more rhythmic, like the gentle ebb of a distant tide.

As sleep pulls him in fully, a peaceful expression settles across his face. The lines of grief soften, replaced by something close to serenity. His grip on the pillow loosens, his hand falling gently to his side.

And in that stillness, Jongseong rests, his breathing gentle, his heart finally at peace, as though in the silence of the room, he has found his way back to you.

_____

“Dad?” Jeyou’s voice echoes through the house as he steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. A strange, unsettling quiet fills the space, not the kind of silence that welcomes you home but the kind that makes your skin prickle. There’s no familiar sound of his father calling out from another room, no clattering of dishes in the kitchen or the hum of the TV from the living room. It’s still. 

Too still.

He pauses at the base of the stairs, staring up as if expecting his dad to appear at the top, grinning, telling him to come up. But nothing. The quiet presses down on him, growing heavier with each passing second. Everything in the house looks exactly the same as it did yesterday - the framed photos of family lining the hallway, the shoes left in a pile near the door, and the faint scent of yesterday’s lunch lingering. Something feels...off.

Jeyou swallows hard, dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he places his hand on the bannister, fingers trembling slightly. He starts up the stairs slowly, the soft creak of each step the only sound breaking the silence. With every step, his heart pounds harder, his breath growing more unsteady. The house, once full of warmth, now feels cold, unfamiliar.

As he reaches the top of the stairs, the hallway stretches before him, just as it always has. But the air is different. It feels heavier, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Jeyou walks toward the bedroom, his pace quickening as he reaches the door. His hand hovers over the handle, the knot of anxiety twisting tighter in his chest. He pushes the door open slowly.

There, lying on the bed, is his father.

Jongseong is still in the clothes he wore yesterday, his body lying peacefully on the bed, his hand hanging limply off the side, fingers curled and unmoving. His face is calm, serene even, as if he’s just fallen into a deep sleep. But the sight is all wrong. His chest doesn’t rise and fall with the steady rhythm of breath. The colour in his cheeks has faded, his skin now ashen and pale.

Jeyou’s breath catches in his throat, his chest tightening painfully. "Oh... no..." he whispers, the words trembling as they leave his mouth. His jaw clenches, trying to hold back the wave of emotion crashing over him, but it’s no use. His eyes burn, tears pricking painfully at the corners before spilling over, running down his cheeks before he can even bring himself to step closer.

He drops to his knees beside the bed, his hands shaking as they reach for his father’s limp hand, the warmth long gone. His fingers brush Jongseong’s skin, but there’s no response, no twitch, no familiar squeeze. His father is gone, and Jeyou feels the reality of it shattering through him like a blow to the chest.

He leans over the bed, resting his forehead against his father’s hand, the sobs he’s been holding back finally escaping his throat in broken gasps. “No... please... not yet, Dad,” he chokes out, his voice strangled by the tears, the grief clawing at his insides. "Please..."

Jeyou lifts his head, staring at his father’s peaceful face, and for a moment, it feels like he’s just sleeping. But the quiet, the terrible, awful quiet, tells him everything he needs to know. His father, the man who had been his rock, his guide through life, is no longer here.

There is a sweet irony in this moment.

As Jeyou's sobs echo softly through the room, Jongseong’s spirit hovers nearby, watching his son with a tender, bittersweet smile. Although he mourns the pain of his son, there’s no longer any weight on his heart, no sense of loss or longing. Instead, there’s a warmth, a gentle, reassuring presence by his side. He feels it before he even turns. A familiar hand slips into his, fingers intertwining with his in the way they always had, fitting perfectly, like pieces of a long-lost puzzle finally reunited.

He turns, and there you are, standing before him with that radiant smile that never failed to brighten his darkest days. It’s the smile that spoke of every quiet moment you shared, every laugh, every whispered confession of love. His heart, which had carried the unbearable ache of your absence for so long, suddenly feels whole again. The years of sorrow and longing melt away in an instant, replaced by the purest form of joy.

“Took you long enough,” you say with a soft pout, your voice light and teasing, just as it had been in life. There’s no hint of sadness or bitterness in your tone, only the playful warmth he’s missed so much, the kind that had always made his heart flutter.

Jongseong smiles in return, a gentle, peaceful expression settling over his face. For the first time in a year, he feels truly at ease. “I was caught up, sorry, baby,” he replies softly, his voice filled with love as he gazes at you. His hand squeezes yours gently, his fingers brushing over your skin as if to reassure himself that this moment is real, that you’re really here.

And then, without hesitation, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss so tender, so full of longing and relief, that it feels as though the time apart vanishes in an instant. The kiss is soft yet meaningful, filled with all the words he could never find to express how much he had missed you. It's like coming home - like slipping into the warmth of an embrace that was always meant to be. 

The sensation of your lips against his is more perfect than anything he remembers, as if all the love he ever felt for you has been distilled into this one beautiful moment. The warmth of it spreads through him, igniting his soul with a peace he hasn't felt in a long time.

Jongseong pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting against yours. His soul feeling light yet beautifully full, free from the ache that had weighed him down for so long. He finally feels whole, finally feels like he’s where he belongs - beside you, where he’s always meant to be.

For a moment, he glances over his shoulder, back at Jeyou. His son kneels by the bedside, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs, the pain of his loss fresh and raw. Jongseong watches him with a soft expression, understanding the weight of the grief that will soon settle into Jeyou’s heart. But even in his son’s sorrow, Jongseong knows he will be okay. Time will heal the wounds, and Jeyou has the strength to carry on. He has a family, a loving wife, beautiful children, and the memories of both his parents to guide him.

Jongseong’s lips curve into a sad yet hopeful smile as he watches Jeyou. ‘You’ll be alright, Jeyou' he thinks, though no words leave his lips. He knows Jeyou will heal, just as he himself did once, after his own parents passed. There will be sadness, yes, but there will also be love, laughter, and life to carry him forward.

With that comforting knowledge resting in his heart, Jongseong turns back to you, his grip on your hand tightening just a little, as if to reaffirm the bond you’ve shared for decades. The past, the pain, the loneliness - it all falls away, leaving nothing but peace and love.

“Ready?” you ask softly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth, as if you’d never been apart.

Jongseong nods, a contented smile playing at his lips. “Always,” he replies, his voice steady, filled with a quiet, unwavering certainty. With your hand in his, he takes the first step forward, leaving behind the world of sorrow and stepping into forever with you.

And as the two of you walk together, the light grows brighter, the burdens of the mortal world disappearing entirely, now walking hand in hand, just as you were always meant to.

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21

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@star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang @alternativelix

[clrasecretdiary]

I do, I do, I do | Spencer Reid x Reader

In which spencer proposes to you.

Absolutely tooth rotting fluff

Contents: Head over heels spence, pet names (honey, angel, darling...)

Warning: none!

a/n: title is a reference to "helpless" from Hamilton & there's a scene inspired by "the tortured poets department" (can u tell I love music?). This is my favorite fic I have ever written.

---

You and Spencer have been dating for 5 years now and, since last year, the team had begun asking the two of you - especially Reid - when were you guys going to “tie the knot”. You and Spencer had talked about it, both agreeing that you both did want to get married, but we’re not in a rush.

Now, you’re at Spencer's house getting ready for one of Rossi's famous dinners. When you look through the mirror, you see Spencer leaning against the door, watching you getting ready while he cuffs the sleeves of his black button-up shirt.

“You’re looking divine angel”

“Thank you honey” You say, turning to him “By the way, this is your last chance to kiss me, unless you also want to wear some red lipstick to Rossi’s”

He giggles, giving you a quick peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom to let you finish getting ready.

Later that night, you, Spencer and the rest of the team are all sitting at the dining table, talking and laughing. This is one of those few, but extremely special moments in which you guys forget all the horrors that happen at work and just are happy together.

You’re in an extremely exciting talk with Garcia about the latest fashion news, a topic that both of you really loved when you feel Spencer playing with your hands, something he usually did, so you did not pay much attention to it. But, at a point you felt him place the small ring he sometimes wore on your finger, specifically your left ring finger, the one you put wedding rings on. When you looked down at it, your heart almost stopped.

He leaned closer to whisper in your ear “It looks perfect on you” and then took it off, continuing to talk to Morgan about… Something. If you were to be honest, after that, you spaced out for a couple seconds, your heartbeat seemed so loud that it replaced all the other sounds around you.

—

2 months later, you’re remembering this moment as you get ready for a very suspicious dinner date with Spencer. Since what happened on Rossi's get together, you knew he was thinking about it and started your detective work to try and figure out when it might happen.

You had asked - no, begged Morgan and Penelope for any kind of clue. It's not that you wanted to know exactly when and where, you just needed a clue to know how to prepare yourself. After a while, you just gave up and decided to let it happen.

You became suspicious when Spencer asked Hotch for you both to have a day off, something you both rarely requested. He also bought you a Vivienne Westwood dress you had been eying for years now.

“Spencer Reid, you did not. Oh my god you're crazy” You said as you opened the box

“Did you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it, thank you so much” You say, leaning in to embrace him in a tight hug

“Maybe I can take you to dinner this Saturday, and you can wear it” He says between giggles because of how wide your smile was, oh how he loved pampering you.

“Sounds perfect honey”

Now, finally the day you had been so excited for. Could Spencer just have felt like giving you the dress? Yes, but for some reason you felt there was more to it. Maybe the way he spent the whole day trying to hide how nervous he is, the way he’s letting you take your sweet time getting ready, saying things like “don’t rush honey” or the mysterious call he received from Morgan earlier that day but you were sure something was going to happen.

You finish getting ready and get into the car with him, he’s showering you with compliments the whole way. When he stops the car something is off, this is not a restaurant, in the dark you can’t really make out where you are but it seems familiar.

He gets out of the car, going around and opening the door for you, helping you get out. He walks you to the entrance of the place and opens the door that you now have recognized to be the library you two loved and also the place we’re he finally asked you out on a date after years of secretly-not-so-secretly being in love with you. Only now, there was a small round table there, with lit candles and a table set for two.

The shock made you not realize that Spencer had now let go of your hand, as you look to your side, you're met with your boyfriend down on one knee and a small velvet box in his hand.

“Honey, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. You’ve been my best friend, the best thing that ever happened to me, you make all the crazy stuff we go through easier, because we’re goin through it together. There’s no one I would rather live life with than you, so will you marry me?”

“Spencer..” That’s the only thing you manage to say, shocked and feeling a kind of happiness you never experienced before. “Of course I will. Oh my god I love you so much” You say, pulling on his arm so he stands up and you kiss him deeply. Feeling an amount of love you never thought was possible.

Once you pull away, he places the delicate ring on your hand and kisses you again. And all you can think is how you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Before The Darkness

☪WORD COUNT: 3.7K

☪GENRE: established relationships, old friends to friends mafia au, purge au, first kiss, i love you, betrayal, fluff ending,

☪PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

☪Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

☪MASTERLIST

The sun filtered through the curtains of your living room giving it a warm but uneasy glow of everything. You knelt on the floor trying to pack everything you were going to need for the next day or so into one suitcase and Yoongi looked at you with a saddened expression. This year he'd gotten to you earlier than he ever usually did, it was almost 5 in the morning when he decided to come and get you ready to come to his place.

The purge didn't even start until tomorrow at 7pm but you figured Yoongi was just deciding to be a little more cautious with time this year since people got a little wacky in the lead-up to the event.

"Is Cassandra going to be there this time?" You knew his live-in cook probably wanted to be with her family during the purge this year but you'd grown close with her over the years of this happening. The two of you had formed a strong friendship since it would usually be the two of you locked up inside of the house with nothing much to do except talk. Yoongi would always make sure he looked you up in his place since it was like a fortress.

Not to mention no one really wanted to mess with Min Yoongi. The man who practically ran the underworld and everyone knew the name of, he was a household name at this point. His house was one of the safest places on the planet whenever the purge was going down, people begged to be taken there when the purge was happening and he tried to keep his men or his men's family there but there were only so many rooms he could use for them.

"You're not going to mine this year," He mumbled a little just low enough for you to hear him, peeking through your curtains to make sure there was no one outside. All morning he'd been a little more jittery than usual and it was strange to see him so on edge. Someone who you knew was never like that, someone who made things in the dark is scared of him.

Yoongi wasn't scared of anything. That you knew of and you knew everything about him. The two of you had grown up living right next door to each other. Hell, you were in love with him, not that you'd ever admit that to him.

"What are you talking about?" You laughed weakly hoping he was joking but there wasn't even a hint of a smile on Yoongi's face as he turned to look at you.

"It's not safe enough, you're going out of town." You stared at him as he explained it and he made his way over to you.

"But-" You tried to say it was the best place for you to be but he cut you off rather quickly,

"Are you packed?" It was now that you noticed that there were beads of sweat starting to form on his head and you nodded zipping up your case which was quickly taken by Yoongi and then grabbed your hand. You did your best to ignore the jolt of electricity that ran through your body as he did this and followed him outside.

Today he was in his armoured car and four men with guns surrounded it, looking in all directions which didn't make you relax as you realised he must have been hiding how bad it was going to be this year.

There had been rumours that this year was going to be bloodier than usual, that people were going over the top with everything. But that was just rumours. No one would ever dare go against Yoongi, right?

"Yoongi, what's going on?" Your voice shook a little as you reached the car, your eyes lingering on the men who were all holding guns and still looking around as if they were waiting for a threat to come out of hiding.

"We have to go, I can't explain it here...Please," He opened the passenger door and you climbed in as he raced to do up your seatbelt for you. Your eyes landed on his hands and you noticed the slight tremor in them as he tried to help you.

"I can do it." You promised him but he continued to do it until you were strapped in, his eyes lingering on yours before the door slammed and he threw your bag into the back of the car. Silently getting into the driver's side and driving off without a word to you.

After about twenty minutes of driving in silence, you decided to break the ice and figure out what was going on inside of that head of his. It wasn't good for him to be in there alone too long and you knew that.

"Yoongi, you're scaring me. What's going on?" You looked out of the window to see four armoured cars following you, all of them his and your eyes went back to him.

His hands were clutching the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white and he looked as though he was ready to kill someone. Something you'd seen many times since knowing Yoongi.

"It's not safe at mine, I'm taking you somewhere better, somewhere you'll be protected." His hand moved to the gearshift and you placed your hand on top of his trying to soothe him, even just a little.

"I'm always safe with you...you keep me safe." You whispered and he swallowed the lump in his throat. While that might have been true at one point or another it wasn't true now. Now he had no choice but to send you away, somewhere safe that no one would ever find you or know who you were.

"Yn, not this time." He shook his head, his eyes flicking to your hands and he linked your fingers together as he changed gears, keeping your hand with his the whole time.

"You're taking me across state lines, right? No one will know you, or me?" You looked at him as you realised what he was doing. If no one knew you, then you weren't going to be a bigger target.

"I already have a place set up, you trust me...right?" His eyes flicked to yours as he drove and you turned to look at him.

"Always, Yoongi." You nodded at him. Maybe it was wrong to follow him so blindly, to trust someone with his power but you did and you didn't care who knew it. The car fell into silence and you looked out of the window.

You were used to extended silences with him, it wasn't anything uncomfortable and you knew never to push him when he was in this kind of state.

The car's engine finally cut off, and the silence that followed was deafening, you stared around at the forest you were currently in. It was getting dark and you'd been on the road almost all day, your back hurt from sitting in the seat. You'd only made four stops on the whole drive and you dreaded to think how much pain Yoongi was in from driving for so long.

Yoongi stepped out of the car first he walked toward your side of the car and helped you out, taking your hand in his before you walked to the entrance of the underground safe house. His heart felt heavy, the weight of everything finally getting a bit too much for him but he knew he needed to do this for your own sake. He had built this place for moments like these—when the world was too dangerous for you when life was too uncertain. But nothing could prepare him for the storm brewing inside him now.

You looked around, trying to grasp the fact that this remote, hidden place was where you would stay for who knew how long since Yoongi hadn't even told you. You stared at Yoongi and you could feel it—his reluctance, the tension in his words during the drive over here.

"You're safe here," Yoongi said, his voice low and steady, as you both stepped inside the secure space. The door clicked shut behind them, locking out the world and you saw as electric deadbolts locked you both inside. It was almost like the ones in a bank vault, no one was getting through that door unless they owned a military-grade drill or laser - or they were Yoongi.

"No one knows about this place. No one can find you. You're safe." He repeated the words as if saying them were making them feel comforted by them instead of you. You stood there, staring at him, your heart pounding with questions that had no easy answers.

"But why here? Why so far away?" Your voice trembled, barely holding it together. He'd already told you it wasn't safe back home because there was a target but this felt too extreme for that.

"Yoongi, why are you hiding me out here? Please, just tell me." You looked at him and he looked over at you. He'd made a promise years ago to you that he would never hide anything from you.

He hesitated, looking down, trying to figure out how to explain it without crushing you completely.

"The Purge this year..." he began slowly, you nodded you'd heard the rumours of course you had.

"It's worse than before. Bloodier. It's not safe anywhere in the city. I had to take you away from it. Away from the threats, you're a walking target because of me. That house isn't safe but this is." You stared at him and nodded, shit you already knew but it still didn't feel like the whole truth. Not from him.

"But that’s not the full truth." You stepped closer to him, your eyes burning into his as you tried to figure it all out, to understand what he wasn’t saying to you.

"What aren’t you telling me, Yoongi?" His shoulders tensed, and he sighed heavily at you before pushing his hands through his hair.

You were always too smart, too perceptive and he knew he couldn’t hide from you, not now, not ever.

"There’s a war," he finally admitted, his voice flat and distant.

"A war with a rival gang that’s been brewing for a long time. It’s about to explode. And this time... I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive." The silence that followed was suffocating, you felt your heart drop out of your chest and into your stomach as you stared at him. It honestly felt as though someone had shot you. You stepped closer, your hands shaking as you reached for him, taking his hands in yours as you shook your head at him.

"No," You whispered, your voice cracking at the thought of never seeing him again. The two of you had always been together. The two of you were practically joined at the hip.

"No, you can’t leave me like this. You can’t go back there. Yoongi, please... stay here with me. Stay where it's safe," The desperation in your voice cut through him, your trembling hands gripping his jacket as if you could hold him in place, but you both knew you weren't strong enough for that.

"Don’t go," You pleaded, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. There was no way he was just going to walk out on you, you wouldn't be able to live without him around.

"I have to go, my men need me, Yn." He reached out as he ran his hand over your cheek, wiping the tears out from under your thumb his heart shattering at the sight of you crying for him.

"Stay with me. I can’t lose you. I—" Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes leaning into his touch as you began forcing the words out. The words you'd been holding in for years but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I love you, Yoongi. Please. Don’t go." Yoongi’s eyes softened at your confession. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race, and yet, his smile was weak, a touch of sadness pulling at the corners of his mouth.

he'd been waiting to hear those words from you for years and now he was getting them right before he was going to die?

"You always wait until the last minute," he murmured with a bittersweet smile, forcing out a laugh as he shook his head at you.

"Always late with the things I want to hear most."

"Promise me you'll stay!" You yell at him, shoving your hands on his chest as he huffed a little the air in his lungs being knocked a little.

"Yn-"

"Don't! If you love me you'll stay here!" You threatened him and he sighed at you. He had obligations to his men but he nodded at you. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice cracking just a little.

"I’ll stay. I love you too, Yn." He whispers as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, your tears falling freely now.

"Promise me," You said softly, letting out a shakey breath as you watched him closely.

"Promise you won’t leave me. Not tonight." Yoongi nodded, his hand holding your waist in his grasp.

"I promise," he whispered into your ear, pressing a small kiss to your cheek as he nodded at you.

"I’ll stay with you." Relief washed over you, the tension in your body easing as you buried your face in his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him.

"It's been a long day, sunshine. We should sleep," He told you as he took your hand in his, leading you through the base in the direction of one of the bedrooms. You took note of everything.

There was a huge living area with a TV and selection of movies, a kitchen big enough to host dinners for an army and then a number of bedrooms but Yoongi continued to walk you until he reached the main one.

It was huge, a king-sized bed in the centre of the room and your eyes flicked to the door that had ten different locks on it to keep people out.

You clung to him as if afraid he would disappear if you let go of him but you crawled onto the bed.

"Don't fight it," he laughed as he ran his hand over your cheek softly.

"You promise not to go, right?" you mumbled tiredly as you snuggled into him. Yoongi smiled weakly,

"I promise." He whispers back to you. Slowly, as the exhaustion of the day and the weight of your emotions caught up with you. Yoongi watched you as your breathing evened out, and you fell asleep in his arms.

Yoongi lay there in the dim light, watching your peaceful face, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back before his eyes flicked to the time, he could spend five more minutes with you.

When you woke up you whimpered a little, there was a cold chill thanks to the underground safe house. You turned over in the bed searching for Yoongi but your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach the moment you realized the space beside you was empty.

"Yoongi?" You called out, your voice trembling, but there was no answer only further pushing the theory that he'd left you after promising not to. You scrambled out of bed, stumbling toward the door, your feet carrying you through the silent hallways. Each step felt like you were sinking deeper into the darkness of uncertainty, and with every empty room you passed your dread grew.

"Yoongi!" You yelled again, desperation seeping into your voice as you reached the common area. There, seated casually at a table, was one of his men—stoic, calm, flipping through a newspaper as if nothing was amiss.

"Where is he?" You demanded, your voice edged with fear and frustration, you didn't give a fuck what his rank was with yoongi you wanted to know where he was after promising you he wasn't going to leave your side.

"Where is Yoongi?" The man looked up, his face unreadable, his eyes betraying nothing, not that any of his men did. He sighed and stood up slowly as if bracing himself for your reaction. Yoongi had given him strict instructions to let you know he was gone and that you weren't to leave.

"He’s gone," he said quietly. You blinked at his nonchalant attitude already pissing you off. Your mind began reeling as if you hadn’t heard him correctly.

"What do you mean, gone?" You whispered, the words barely making it past your throat as you shook your head at him. Yoongi promised he wouldn't go. He never broke his promises. Not to you.

"He promised me… he promised me he wouldn’t leave. He—" The man’s expression softened slightly, but he remained firm as he looked at you.

"He didn’t want you to worry," the man said suddenly making you scoff at him.

"He wanted to protect you." You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your tears angrily.

"Worry? All I'm going to do is worry!" Your voice splintered, the pain and frustration bubbling up uncontrollably. You felt betrayed, and abandoned—how could he leave you like that after everything?

Time passed in a haze, and as the week wore on, your fear twisted into anger at the thought of him leaving you and not saying a fucking word to you. You were terrified that he might be dead, that the war had taken him from you forever and you'd only just confessed to one another. And yet at the same time, you were furious at him for leaving you, for breaking his promise.

It had been a week and you had almost given up hope when you heard it—heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway. The commotion and stomping of more than one set of feet and you knew it wasn't just your own lonely guard.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest, disbelief flooding you as you turned toward the door, shifting out of the covers and watching the door. The handle turned slowly, and the door creaked open.

There he was.

Yoongi stood in the doorway, covered in blood, his clothes torn and dirty. His hair was dishevelled, and bruises lined his pale skin, his lip was busted. He looked like he had been through hell, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a gleam of mischief.

"I told you," he said, his voice gravelly and low.

"I'll never leave." For a moment, relief flooded through you so powerfully that you could hardly breathe. He was alive. He was here. But then the pain, the fear, and the anger came rushing back, overtaking the relief. Gripping the pillow beside you, you launched it in his direction but he swatted it away from his face.

"What the Yn?!" Your eyes narrowed, your fists clenched at your sides as you got out from the bed and stormed to stand in front of him.

"I hate you," You spat, her voice sharp and trembling.

"I hate you for breaking your promise. You swore you wouldn’t leave, Yoongi. You promised." Yoongi’s smirk faltered slightly as your words hit him. This whole time he thought you would have been happy to see him, he was happy to be back here, he hadn't thought about how much it would have hurt that he wasn't here for the last week.

He stepped closer to you, his expression softening, the exhaustion creeping into his eyes.

"Y/N," he started quietly, his voice gentle as he moved to cup your face in his hands but you moved away from him.

"I didn’t want to break that promise. But I had to end this. I had to make sure you were safe." You shook your head, your tears spilling over as you backed away from him, your anger masking the hurt that was tearing you apart on the inside.

"You don’t get it," You whispered, your voice cracking.

"You left me here for a week—alone, terrified that you were dead. I thought I’d lost you forever. I just fucking confessed my love and you were gone!"

"I know," he whispered, stepping closer, his hands reaching out to gently pull you into his arms. You resisted for a moment, your body tense, but when you felt his warmth, the fight slowly drained from you, and you crumbled against him, your tears soaking into his bloodstained jacket.

"I’m sorry," Yoongi murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, his arms around you tightening as he brought you close. Both of you kneeling down on the floor.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought this was the only way… I thought it would be over faster. But I was wrong." You sobbed against him, your fists weakly pounding against his chest before you let your arms wrap around him tightly.

"You can’t do that to me," You whispered through your tears.

"You can’t leave me like that. I need you, Yoongi." He nodded his head, his eyes closed, holding you tighter, his heart aching at the sound of your broken voice.

"I know," he whispered. "And I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again. I swear it." You pulled back slightly, your tear-streaked face gazing up at him.

"You better mean it, because I can’t go through that again." He cupped your face in his hands, brushing away the last of your tears with his thumbs and kissing your nose softly.

"I mean it," he whispered. "I’m here. I’m not going anywhere." He kissed your lips softly and nodded his head at you.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "And I’ll never leave again." You looked up at him, your heart finally calming, your lips curving into a small, tired smile.

"I love you too," you whispered. "Just… don’t make me say it after thinking you’re dead for a week, okay?" He chuckled softly, nodding as he kissed you again.

"Deal." He whispered before kissing you once again, bringing you into his arms and letting you ask him everything about what had happened in the week he'd been away from you.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[lexawoah13]

TO-DO Oneshot

Synopsis: when a regular shooting of TO-DO has a hitch, the director is left begging his staff to fill in the parts of the models who failed to show up. What could go wrong when you get paired up with Soobin, the man you’ve been crushing on for months?

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, cum talk, fingering, handjob, fantasy play, inappropriate photos, bunny suit, let me know if I miss something!

Word Count: 10K

Tag list(open btw): @sooluving

The day started simple enough. You showed up to work ready to film the TO-DO episode scheduled for today. Setting up the props and getting everything organized before the guys show up for makeup, when you are approached by the director.

“Y/N! We need your help!? PLEASEEE PLEASE SAY YOU’LL DO IT!?” falling to his knees and bowing in desperation.

“Oh god! what’s going on?!”

“The male models that were supposed to show up today for the episode are a no show! We have no idea where they are and we have to begin shooting in 20 minutes. The guys are already fully booked for the rest of the day so we can’t hold them up”

“Okay so what do you want me to….”realization washes over you of what he’s about to ask you ”OH NO! NO! Nonononono NO WAY am i wearing those things in front of THEM” you refute his pleading. There was no way in HELL you were modeling those costumes for the 5 men you considered your friends. Your relationship with the members developed into quite the friendship from sitting in your chair. You hang out with them outside of work and there is no way you are giving them that leverage over you. You would never live it down, especially as long as Beomgyu was alive.

You see, today’s episode was supposed to consist of the guys drawing live models in their respective animal suits. Only it was supposed to be male models in pretty revealing Halloween versions of said animals. You know, corsets, masks, ears, and very short skirts (if you were ever so lucky).

“Y/N PLEASE! You will only have to model 1 and it will be in a private room so the others won't even see you. We will also blur your face when it airs so no one can see you. Actually it will probably be your whole body. PLEASE! pleasepleasepleaseplease PLEASE WE ARE DESPERATE!”

You think it over. “I want what the models were being paid”

“OF COURSE I’ll give you double! Please”

You turn around and mull it over again in your head. To be honest the only two you wouldn’t want to model in front of were Beomgyu and Soobin. Beomgyu for obvious reasons. The menace would torture you afterwards and never let you breathe peacefully without bringing you up in that “bear” costume (if you could even call it that). Soobin on the other hand… it wasn’t because he would be disrespectful or anything, honestly he would probably be the easiest one to model for. But, the fact that you’re completely head over heels for the man and the idea of him seeing you exposed like that makes you want to die. Picturing his eyes on you at all would make you a complete mess.

“I’LL GIVE YOU A RAISE! PLEASE” the director breaks you out of your thoughts.

Fuck you could really use the raise….”how will the outfits be chosen?” you ask, trying to convince yourself to do this for the money.

“Random draw. No one really wants to do this and that seems like the fairest way.”

“Fine.” you exhale, unable to believe you're actually gonna do this. “I’ll do it. But you're also buying me lunch for a month!”

“DONE! You are an absolute godess you know that!”

“Yeah yeah.. Let's get this over with”

You walk over to the other staff who were going to do this with you, seeing a couple of your work friends also in the circle.

“He got you too, huh?” one of the producers asks you

“Yeah…” you say defeated

“Figured he would. Especially since you and the guys are so close” another says from the styling department

“Yea but this is too much… fuck! if i get Soobin or Gyu i’m gonna off myself” you sigh

“Yea i can’t imagine you in front of Soobin, especially in that bunny girl fit. You’re so in love with him it's crazy he hasn't noticed yet” one of the junior assistants teases

“SHHHHHHH! Can you not! What if he pops up and hears you!” you cover her mouth

“Omg they're not even here yet. You know they let us know as soon as they enter the building over the walkies'' the stylist teases

“Ughhhh.. Can we just do this? Put me out of my misery”

“Okay but we have to promise no switches after we pick! Keep it fair! We all know no one wants to be with Beomgyu because of the teasing we will have to endure from him for the rest of our lives. So no whining, just do it!” one of the senior writers says, putting her hand in the middle to signify making a pact.

“Fine!” you place your hand on top of the others showing you agree. The hat is grabbed by your senior and she holds it in the middle “on 3 we all reach in and pick one” everyone nods “1” she starts

“I mean my odds are 3 out of 5”

“2” she side eyes you continuing the countdown

“So it's not that bad. “ you continue trying to reassure yourself

“3”

“It’s only 2 names I don't really want so what are the chances..” you continue rambling while you all reach in for the costumes.

Everyone opens their slips at the same time and you feel your blood turn cold, “fuck” you say under your breath.

Everyone goes around saying their costume

“Fox/ Yeonjun”

“Penguin/ Kai”

“Fucking bear” the stylist says annoyed “kill me now”

“Cat/ Taehyun”

Which only leaves you. Everyone staring with Giant grins plastered on their faces at your horror..

“Bunny… Soobi-”

“They’ve arrived everyone in positions” blasts over the walkies.

‘Fuck. fuck. FUCKKKKK!’ plays over and over again in your brain as you walk to the dressing room, set with your suit.

Opening the door, you see the white satin, corseted one piece. With matching white fluffy ears and wrist bands. Accompanied by white pumps and white thigh high tights, each having white fur on them as well. You also assumed there was a large fluffy white tail on the back of your suit.

The director knocks on the door

“Come in”

“Oh it’s you… see you got the bunny suit…” he cringes for you

“Yeahhhh…” you say barely above a whisper

“This will be interesting” he silently chuckles to himself, resulting in you death glaring him

Clearing his throat “anyways… can you just put your hair up in a high ponytail with some curls? For makeup keep it light but add some extra blush on your nose to look like a ‘bunny nose’”

All you can do is nod

“You’ll be fine. Soobin is a gentleman, which you’re more than aware of. You’ll be in safe hands” he says, patting you on the shoulder before he walks out.

Getting ready is a blur to you. 9284692161 thoughts running through your head about how bad this could go. You’re not ugly by any means but that doesn’t mean you’re not self conscious. You’re on the curvier side, with a full bust and hips, and a pretty juicy ass. This suit is so tiny you can see every roll and ripple from your stretch marks and extra skin. Not to mention it barely covers your womanhood with how small this gusset is. ‘How the fuck were the men gonna hide their dicks in these?’ you think to yourself.

“Kill me now,” you say outloud with a heavy sigh to your empty room.

A knock at your door breaks you out of your self loathing enough to go open it.

“Hey, how are you?” your work bestie asks you as your head peaks though the tiniest hole crack you can manage. You grab her arm and pull her through.

“How do you think I'm doing? This was the BIGGEST MISTAK-” She cuts you off abruptly as she takes in the sight of you.

“Holy shit babe you look incredible”

“Hahahahha funny. You don’t need to say that. I know how ridiculous i look”

“No no I don't think you understand. You mustn’t be seeing yourself cause Soobin is gonna lose his fucking mind when he sees you”

“Yeahhhhh riiighttt..” you stretch out your words

“Yeah babe, he will. Speaking of! I came here to tell you he was asking about you the whole time he was in hair and makeup.”

“What? Why?”

“He said he was worried you were sick or something. Said you also weren’t answering his texts. He sounded pretty bummed actually. When he walked in you could see his head spinning looking for you” she says raising her brows at you suggestively.

“That's just Soobin. That's how he acts with everyone…”

“No babe.. It’s not. He said it was weird without you there. He missed you, I could tell.”

“Yeah just as a friend though! He was just worried ‘cause he couldn't reach me and his anxiety filled ass though I hated him or something.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” she scrunches her eyes at you, disgusted at how you wont believe that Soobin could possibly like you as much as you like him. After all, she sees the way he looks at you everyday.

“Models gather in the common room” the walkie relays

“Fuck! kill me please?” you beg holding your hand in front of your chest as you plead with your bestie.

“Nah hon.. Someones gotta see how hot you look besides me”

“Bitch”

“Love you too! Now off you go! Say hi to Binnie for me!” she blows you a kiss as you walk to the door. Opening it and flipping her off while you close it.

Whistles and cheers can be heard from the minimal staff present as the 5 of you make your way to the common area.

“Yeah yeah everyone pipe down” the director instructs

“First off! Thank you to the 5 amazing ladies who stepped in at the last minute to save our asses! You all look incredible and nothing would be possible without you.” Everyone claps for you all. And all you can think about is how you wish you would turn into an ant and be stepped on. “We are going to bring the guys in shortly and fill them in on today’s task. They however won't know it's you modeling until they enter your private rooms. We will let them in to talk to you first and break the shock. As funny as it would be to release that… I don't think it’s wise for others to know who you are when it airs.” everyone sighs and nods in agreement “so after a very short interaction, we will ask them to leave and we will refilm their “first look”. After that we will leave you all alone. No mics, no cameras besides the polaroids they can use for reference photos. In editing we will blur your faces and bodies so you will not be identifiable.” more sighs of relief were released by the five of you. ”so, any questions?” no one says anything so you rap it up. “Alright then! Let's get you ladies to your rooms and have a great shoot! FIGHTING!” everyone repeats him and goes their own ways.

Once in your room, your anxiety worsens. Your heart beats 1000 miles a minute. Sweaty palms and it’s hard to breathe. Pacing back and forth across the little floor space there was left from the giant easel in the corner. “What am I doing?! This is insane! I can’t do this” you say to yourself. When you hear the doorknob twist. Panic shooting through all the nerves in your body. You stand up straighter, fix your hair to make sure nothing is sticking up and flatten out the suit across your stomach. Turning back on because you don’t think you can face him right away.

The door shuts and you hear Soobin shyly say “annyeonghaseyo” his voice getting higher at the end.

You say it back to him quietly and slowly turn around “annyeonghaseyo”, grabbing your arm with the other reaching across the front of your body, looking at the ground. You wish you could curl up in a ball and die.

“Oh Y/N” he sounds breathless

“Hey Binnie..” you slowly look up to meet his eyes, lifting the hand from your held arm to wave, awkwardly smiling.

“You… you-” he clears his throat “you look-”

“Ridiculous I know..” you cut him off, hanging your head in your hands, slightly pushing your breasts together “Please don’t tell the guys. I can’t live with Gyu torturing me for eternity”

“No, no. NO!” panic fills his voice “I was gonna say you look incredible” he says and immediately turns bright red

“Really?” You ask shocked he would say that

“Yes! You really do. Wait, so this is why you weren’t in hair and makeup today? I was worried! I thought you were-” he walks over to you and grabs your arms, rubbing up and down them when he cuts himself off, looking down into your eyes as you look up into his shining brown ones. "I thought you were sick or something. You wouldn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry this morning has been kinda crazy” unable to hold back the smile spreading across your face. This whole situation was just too ridiculous..

Soobin however, was fighting every instinct in his body to not kiss you. Walking into the room and seeing your plump ass with the bunny tail was enough to make him hard. He knew it was you as soon as he saw it. Afterall, he does ogle your body everyday. Wishing he would get the chance to see you in all your glorious perfection one day. If only he could break out of his annoyingly nervous self when he’s around you and tell you how perfect you are.

Seeing you turn around with the complete outfit fulfills all of his fantasies. Fuck you looked so hot standing before him. How the fuck is he gonna get through this shoot?

There’s a knock on the door, signaling them that the crew was there to film his reaction to seeing you.

“Are you both ready?” The director asks, internally applauding himself for this moment. He’s not stupid he sees the way you both look at each other.

“Yeah I guess.. you good Soob?” You ask him, he hasn’t broken eye contact with you

“Yeah sure” he finally looks at the director.

“Alright let’s do this thing! We’ll be right back Y/N” he winks at you. Soobin looks at you over his shoulder the whole time he walks out of the room. All you can do is supportively smile at him, tilting your bunny ear clad head to the side. His heart is pounding so hard right now he’s pretty sure everyone can hear it. And he’d be right. The crew all chuckled under their breath at how flustered he was.

“Hey Soobin” the director nudged his arm drawing his attention to him. “Don’t let this opportunity slip away” leaning in to whisper his last words of advice “make your move”

Soobin’s eyes widen unsure if he heard him right, “what?”

“You heard me, don’t waste it Soobin” he winks at him before clapping his hands together to get everyone ready to proceed filming.

Soobin’s “intro” goes as well as it can with how awkward he is in this situation. They wrap up the quick take, letting you know they will be back in an hour, and you are both left alone once again. Tension lays thick in the air. Who would talk first? Better yet how you were both going to make it through this. Unable to take the silence anymore, you ask “how do you want to do this?”

“Hmm?” he asks, lost in his own mind about what the director meant.

“What do you want me to do Soobin? How do you want me to pose for you?”

“OH right.. Umm just do what feels comfortable to you i guess?” rubbing the back of his neck as he walks over to grab the polaroid camera left on the table.

“Soobin… absolutely none of this is comfortable! I look like I just walked out of a teenage boys wet dream”

‘It’s gonna be my wet dream tonight’ Soobin can’t help but think to himself.

“Yeah, right… Ummm.. how about, I mean since you’re already dressed like that, you pose like a bunny girl…?” deciding to shoot his shot because this opportunity will not present itself again.

“What, Like this?” channeling your inner Bunny Girl popping your hip out hard to the side. Your head tilted the same way while pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with big doe eyes.

“Yeah, just like that! Don’t move” Soobin picks up the camera to capture you in that pose.

“Kay” you shyly say, not budging from your position as Soobin takes the picture.

You continue posing for him in whatever way you can imagine. And when you run out of ideas, Soobin’s thorough knowledge of anime and manga comes into full use, directing you in poses you would have never thought of.

However, as time passed, Soobin’s pervy side was getting the best of him, taking the photos he would never ever use, and just keep for later. Like as soon as filming was over and he was alone, left to think of you all night.

Soobin maneuvers himself in all different positions. Eventually making his way between your legs, wanting to get a photo of you looking down at him.

While sliding through your legs, his eyes land at the apex of your thighs, staring at your barely covered pussy. The white satin laying tightly over your core. So tight, he could see the shape of you through it. ‘Fuck fuck fuck this is insane. I shouldn’t be looking but FUCK WHY DOES IT LOOK SO GOOD. fuck I want her on my tongue. Just a taste…” Soobin internally fantasizes about you moving the fabric to the side, exposing your soaking wet folds, glistening in your slick and begging to be cleaned by his mouth. His jeans start to feel tighter- “FUCK NO! STOP BEING A PERV YOU LOSER!’

You seem to be off in another world though and completely unaware of his position. ‘Maybe I could… No no I can't, that's so wrong. She’d hate me if she ever found out. But… that’s IF she finds out. If.. if is good.’

Soobin picks up the camera, focusing on the white piece of shiny fabric barely covering your pussy, making sure it’s perfect before he clicks the shutter button to capture you on film. Only for him to see. He shoves the picture into his shirt pocket and pushes his way through to finally see your face.

You look down over your breasts, bending slightly at your hips, to look down at Soobin. “ kay so what now?” batting your eyelashes.

“UHH-” trembling over his words ‘FUCK WHY IS SHE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! I swear ro god she's doing this on purpose’ he swallowed thickly “umm that looks good! Yes, just lean over a bit more and that perfect” horny Soobin is fully taking over. He wants YOU so badly.

For some reason you kept feeling more and more confident around him too. The way he would praise you throughout this whole ordeal was making you feel a type of way. You could feel the tingling in your stomach migrate its way throughout your whole body. Leading you to be more forward than you usually would. His eyes on you make you more confident by the second. ‘Fuck why is he looking at me like that? He looks so good’ thinking to yourself as you admire the way Soobin’s hair falls back off of his forehead. Watching the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips while he focuses the camera on you.

What catches Soobin's attention though, is the way your thighs start to rub together. Grinding together and making your hips sway slightly. ‘Fuck this is impossible’ he thinks while trying to maneuver to make his jeans not feel so tight.

“This okay Binnie?” you softly ask, squeezing your breasts together with your arms

“YeP!” He squeaks, taking the picture quickly, and moving to get out from underneath you.

You notice something fall to the ground from his pocket as he shifts. Noticing it’s a polaroid you move forward and bend down to pick it up. Curious, you turn it around to look at it while you speak up.

“Hey Bin you dropped th-” the word dies in your throat as you see the picture. The photo is solely of the apex between your thighs. Front and center is your pussy, barely covered, by the tiny amount of white satin fabric, you can even see through it a little bit (all thanks to how wet you currently were).

When Soobin sees you holding the photo, and the red flush covering your face, he knows immediately what photo it is, tapping his chest pocket to confirm his nightmare is coming true.

“Y/N I-... Le-Let me explain! It’s not what you think! It’s uhhh… i uhh- “ Seeing him panic with wide eyes and a crimson face that rivals your own, fills you with the sudden urge to toy with him. Falling to your knees, you crawl over to him, showing off the assets you know he loves most. You’ve always known Soobin was a boob man. He rarely passed the chance to size up your chest when he was presented with it. Straddling his hips, you put on your best innocent face. Big doe eyes and pouty pink lips, glossy after just licking them. “Binnie baby..” you lean forward, pushing your tits to his face as your breathily whisper into his ear “if you wanted your own pictures, all you had to do was ask” punctuating your statement by pressing a kiss to his pulse point. He stops breathing, his cock instantly hardening underneath you, while his hands shoot to your hips to hold you there. Thumbs digging in roughly.

“Y/N wait… fuck- ” he curses as your lower yourself on him “for real?”

“Mmmmhmmm” you seductively agree, biting your lower lip while you look him in the eyes.

“Anything I want? The question barely audible while his eyes lower to your lips.

You bring your face into his, feathering his lips with your own as your whisper to him “anything you want Soobin”

Soobin instantly reaches for the camera but you stop him. You push yourself into him as you reach down his thigh and into his pocket as you reach for his phone in his pocket. “Use yours instead” holding it out to him.

Soobin snatches the phone from your hand at light speed and instantly takes photos of you, just as you are right now. Photos of your chest, your face, as many as he can grab. He quickly switches to video, not wanting to miss a second of this as he simultaneously snaps pictures of you in motion.

You give into his every want and need. Moving as you think he would like, letting him guide you into the positions he wants. Even allowing him to take down your ponytail, releasing your curls along your shoulders.

Unable to take this position any longer, Soobin wraps his arm around your waist as he flips you onto the floor making you softly gasp. Your hair spreads out across the cold tile beneath you, bunny ears still standing straight up on top of your head. Soobin is about to combust looking at you spread out below him on the floor, while his legs straddle either side of you. ‘She’s so fucking cute right now. Her pink nose is adorable, especially when she's shy like this. She’s even blushing all down her neck and -” Soobin’s eyes widen as he is stopped in his thoughts. As his eyes are trailing down your body, he notices one of your breasts has vacated your corset and is perked up, looking back at him. Your pretty pink, hard nipple making him salivate, begging to be taken into his mouth. Fantasizing about getting you completely out of that bunny suit, you interrupt his thoughts.

“Soobin?” your voice is meek and quiet “Is something wrong?” you ask, starting to curl into yourself, feeling self conscious for the first time under his gaze.

“What..” he asks confused until he realizes he was eye fucking you as you watched him “NO! Nothing is wrong! It’s just your.. Your umm..” Soobin clears his throat, “your boob is out”

“OH!” you look down to see you were in fact exposed. “Oh god, sorry I didn’t even notice” being too caught up in the moment you didn’t even realize your tit was out. You reach to fix yourself when Soobin’s large hand grabs yours to stop you. He brings your hand above your head, looking into your eyes trying to gauge how you feel right now. “Soobin..” you breathe, shock and nerves creeping in. Feeling the mutual tension, Soobin makes his decision.

Soobin breaks eye contact to look at your exposed chest again. Bringing his free hand up, pulling down the top of your suit completely revealing your chest to him as you gasp in shock.

“So pretty…” looking at you in the most adoring way “prettiest tits I’ve ever seen” whispering his compliments through shallow breathing. He releases your hand, kneading a breast in each of his huge palms. “So pretty Y/N, so perfect” Pulling hushed moans from you as he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your peaked bud. Pulling away as he grazes his teeth across it, causing you to hiss a quiet ‘fuck’ as the sensation does too much to you. Your melodic sounds go straight to his dick.

Soobin continues sucking on your chest, leaving purple marks in his wake. His hands roaming your exposed skin, traveling lower towards your hips. You need more. You need him to give you more. Your desire takes over, pushing your hips up to meet his, whining as you move against him.

“More” you whisper

“Hmm?” he barely heard you too caught up in his actions

“More Soobin, please” you whine

Unable to stop the smirk on his lips, he has to tease you a little bit. He wasn’t going to give up this chance to fluster you “what was that? I can’t hear you Y/N did you say something?”

You grab his face, pulling him in closer to you and whine between bated breath “BiiNn- More, touch mee- Uhh more PLEassee” Your eyes glossed over with need.

“Fuck Y/N what are you doing to me?” Finally meeting your lips, Soobin pulls you up to sit in his lap, moving the fabric to the side so he can finally touch your soaked cunt. Soobin groans into your mouth, mixing with your moans. Having his long fingers rub along your sensitive folds, circling your clit, making your brain short circuit, losing all sense of control and reason previously holding you back.

You grip his shirt by the neck, pulling him closer to you deepening your kiss. “Take it off.” punctuating your demand by biting his lower lip.

Soobin moves at light speed, pulling his shirt over his head, to reconnect your lips. Not wanting to waste any moments he can be connected to you. Migrating to your neck where he makes quick work to leave his mark. Purple splotches popping up along your collarbone and chest. Relishing in the pretty moans leaving your mouth. Kissing down your chest he reaches your suit again.

Trying to pull down your suit, he’s met with resistance. The zipper gets stuck as he fumbles with irritation.

“Fuck” he grumbles before he turns you around “as hot as you are in this suit, I really fucking hate it right now.” fingers struggling to unzip you.

You get impatient too, “here!” wrapping your arm around to pull the zipper down

“Stand up baby, take it off please” he motions for you to stand up, holding your hips as you do.

On your feet, you look down at Soobin, his eyes sparkling with desire as you shimmy out of the satin suit you were so self conscious in moments ago. While the lust is fogging over your thoughts, you freeze realizing he can see everything. Anxiety begins to crawl back into your stomach. Butterflies swarming in the pit as you see him size you up from top to bottom.

Lost in the sight of you fully on display for him, Soobin can’t help but stare and take in every inch of your body. It was everything he ever dreamed and more. Practically salivating at the thought of having you all to himself. Eyes between your thighs to your breasts, landing on your stomach. You’re holding your breath when he gently says ”so pretty. You’re beautiful y/n. So so beautiful.” you can hear the love and sincerity in his words, making the butterflies and unease fly away. Still praising your body with his gaze, Soobin moves forward, bringing himself closer to your dripping sex, trailing kisses along your thighs. “Need to taste” he says, more so to himself as he lifts his head, running his smooth tongue from your opening to your clit in one deliciously slow stroke. His tongue feels unreal, soothing the tension building inside you. Moaning as he continues to lap up your arousal. Soobin lifts your leg over his shoulder to get more access to you, his plush lips kissing your clit.

Soobin leaves no part of your core untouched. His tongue travels the length of your slit, swirling your clit and sucking it between his lips, holding you steady with a tight grip on your ass. Groping your cheek as he guides you along his tongue.

“eugh” You run your finger through his hair, gripping tightly so he can’t escape from the pleasure he’s giving you. Flattening his tongue along your folds slick with his saliva. Sucking on them until they slip out with a loud ‘POP’ as he groans from your intoxicating taste. You push your hips forward and Soobin takes the hint, swirling his tongue around your dripping entrance before he thrusts it in.

“Fuck Bin!” you gasp as pleasure buzzes throughout your body. “Ughhh- Yes keep.. Keep going” your breathing ragged and interrupted by the moans you can’t hold back.

Soobin moans against you, “yes baby- fuckkk…- come for me” he pleads between breaths. His large hands pull you in closer to him, allowing him to dive deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with every movement.

Pulling back for a second, you groan in disappointment, dropping your head back on your shoulders until you hear and feel the wetness of Soobin spitting on your clit. The surprise and vulgarity of the sounds echoing around the room tighten then knot in your stomach more and more while Soobin immediately returns to burying himself in your cunt. Your hips move on their own. Bouncing and grinding on Soobin’s tongue. You can feel him smile against you, as he begins to help you. Lifting you by your ass and dropping you down on his tongue so he can get even deeper. Vibrations flutter along your folds from his groans, drinking the sweet nectar flowing from you, thighs trembling signaling how close you were.

“So good… fuck princess -so hot” Soobin mewls against your clit. Distracting you while he adds two fingers along with his tongue. Reaching your spongy spot while his tongue licks your gummy walls alongside his digits. Your body is on fire, nerves overfiring with every tiny movement Soobin makes along you. The way his nose brushes your clit every time he moves his tongue or wraps his fingers to reach your g spot. The way his Grip is tightening on your ass in the most deliciously painful way, sure to leave bruises of his fingertips for tomorrow, all while pulling you closer into him.

“Fuck- UGH- I’m gonna- SooB-” your words stumble out as you try to warn him. But Soobin just nods eagerly, not stopping for even a second to breathe. With one last thrust of his fingers inside and his nose gently brushing against your clit, the tension in your body finally snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you. You shake and tremble as your arousal coats Soobin's hand and face, but he stays right there. Continuing to hold and support you while you ride out every wave of pleasure until your climax subsides.

You collapse to your knees, breathless and trembling in front of Soobin. He wipes the remnants of release from his face, unable to reach it all with just his tongue. Watching him lick your cum off of his plump bunny lips that you’ve fantasized of so often almost has cumming again.

“Soobin I-” you start before he pulls you close by the back of your neck, kissing you with a passion and intensity unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. The taste of yourself on his lips only reignites your desire for him. You wanted to taste him, feel his heavy length on your tongue and make him cum deep in your throat.

Moaning into his kiss, you waste no time in undoing his belt. Ripping it off and throwing it across the room before moving onto his pants. He can barely comprehend what's happening as you pull them down his thighs in one fluid motion.

“Woah- Woah Y/N slow dowNNnN-” he moans against your lips, while trying to push you back slightly. “Fuuuck” It not that he didn’t want this - because he does, He REALLY FUCKING wants it. BAD. But he didn’t want you to overwhelm yourself after how hard you just came.

“Baby-Fuck bun- stop for a- ahhh- a sec” he tries to convince you

“UGGHHH why?!” you say irritably, wanting nothing more and to suck his cock right then and there. Palming him through his briefs, you run your fingers over the wet spot on his briefs, feeling the precum soaking through the fabric. Knowing he wants it just as badly as you do. Rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip through the fabric makes Soobin’s resolve start to crumble.

“Fuck bunny”- i- i just don’t wan- faaawwk-’ cutting himself off with a loud moan.

“Up” you simply state

“Hmm?” he asks, confused but unable to resist your commanding tone, his pupils dilate from pleasure.

“Stand. Up.” you command simply. Taking his arms and forcing him to stand up.

You look up at him moving in closer to his still covered bulge

“I wanna taste you” not breaking eye contact as you lick the wet spot sitting atop his aching tip. His salty essence makes you moan loudly and your eyes roll to the back of your head from the delectable taste. Lost in your desire for him, you migrate lower, kissing his length.

Eliciting heavy breathing and groans from Soobin.

“fuck Y/N” he pants before being taken over by his deep, raspy moans, tangling his fingers through your hair to ground himself. Fighting hard to not instantly cum down your throat as you tease him through the soaking wet fabric.

Desperate for more of him, you remove Soobin's briefs and reveal his mouth-watering cock. A silent gasp escapes your lips as it slaps against his abs. You already knew he was big, but fuck.. seeing him fully exposed was mind-blowing. His member was thick with plump veins that would glide deliciously against your walls. And the length...it could easily hit every one of the pleasure points deep inside you. The sight of it made your mouth water with anticipation. Not to mention, his dick was actually pretty. The tip was a deep shade of pink, glistening in the wetness from your previous teasing, practically begging to be taken into your mouth.

Craving more, your tongue reaches out, gliding along the underside of his cock slowly, swirling your slippery tongue around the tip. Savoring the taste of him, you moan as you envelope him with your lips. Your moans radiate throughout his body, causing him to tighten his grip on your hair.

“Gahh-y/n fuck your mouth feels so good” Soobin moans, unable to stop his hips from moving deeper into your throat. Drool drips down your chin, gagging on him as he pushes against the back of your throat. Hollowing your cheeks you allow more of his length in, using your tongue to stimulate his tip when Soobin’s hips pull back. Gripping his thigh with one hand for balance, your free hand moves to grope his balls. Massaging and lightly squeezing them while Soobin whimpers words of praise to you. “Feels so good”, “fuck yes bunny”, “such a good girl for me”

Every word shoots to your core, making you drip with need. Pulling off his cock, still attached by a string of spit from your lips to his tip, creating a sinfully pornographic scene between the both of you. Panting and flushed, you watch Soobin’s dick twitch, as if begging for more attention. Humming in approval, your hand encloses around his length, pumping up and down while you look up at him. When Soobin’s brown irises lock on your playful ones, you kitten lick his tip teasingly while you watch him squirm to control himself.

“You’re too fucking cute Binnie” feigning innocence while biting your bottom lip, drifting closer and closer to the base of him. Smiling as you run the flat of your tongue along his taint, running all the way to his head.

Soobin’s groan was possibly the best sound you have ever heard. Greedy, you wanted to hear more. Wanted to hear how good you were making him feel. You spit on his shaft, jerking him off while returning to his balls. Licking and kissing all over before popping one into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue.

Soobin’s knees start to shake, becoming too stimulated while trying to hold himself back. He falls back and leans against the table behind him, unknowingly giving you even more access to him. Humming in satisfaction against him, you bring him closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” he’s a moaning mess.

“Cum for me Soob! Want your cum” you beg, pumping your fist along his shaft faster, and twisting. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his tip. “Cum binnie”

“GahHhH-” cumming on your tongue, Soobin’s grip on your hair tightens, pulling you further down his length so he can pump his cum down your throat.

You can’t help but moan around his length, swallowing every last drop while you continue to milk his cock.

Both of you are panting and out of breath. Licking your lips, you stare up at the man you’ve been in love with for months, head thrown back and adam's apple bobbing as he tries to collect himself. Effortlessly beautiful as he always is, but this time it’s different. He looks like sex. Literal sex. His hair is damp and slightly messy from running your fingers through it. His skin softly glistens with the light sheen of sweat covering his body. His muscles are taught as he leans against that table, tensed from the orgasm you gave him moments ago. Soobin turns his head to look at you, his eyes lazy but full of desire.

“Come ‘ere” he softly demands, holding out a hand to you.

Raising to your feet you walk to him taking his outreached hand. With a light tug he pulls you into his chest, enveloping you in a tight hug. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he asks into the top of your head.

Pulling back you look up at him “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself” pulling him down by his chin, catching his lips with yours. The intensity increases quickly, both of you still craving more of one another.

Softly groaning into your lips, Soobin’s hands travel down to grab your ass, kneading your round cheeks with his large hands, pulling you closer and closer. But it’s not close enough. With your arms wrapped around his neck and hands tangled in his hair, Soobin lifts you up finally getting the closeness he craved. You let out a startled yelp from his sudden action, causing you both to laugh into the kiss. “You good?” still laughing at how cute he found you.

“Never better” you retort before capturing his lips again, resuming your heated kissing. Pulling yourself up his body and rubbing your slick folds along Soobin’s hardened length. Whining with need and want, pushing yourself a little farther everytime. His sensitive tip hooking and sliding just past your dripping opening. Both of your moans are sinfully pornographic and echo off the walls surrounding you.

“Fuck Y/N-”

“BiNNiE” you whine against his lips, moving your hips to slip him inside you again, but he holds your hips tight, not letting you move like you wish.

“What? Are you that needy bunny?” he smirks, a confidence washing over him from your efforts

“Mmhmmm” you quickly nod “please Bin”

“You really are a filthy bunny aren’t you? Just dying for me to fuck you right?” You’ve never seen or heard Soobin act like this, but fucking hell… this new side of him is so incredibly hot you can feel your essence stream out of you and along his cock. His chocolate brown eyes are almost black now and his gaze makes you want to submit to his every word.

“Just a bunny, your filthy bunny, Binnie I need you PLEASE”

“Fuck” he exhales, collecting the little restraint he has to complete this fantasy he’s always had. Letting you down he flips you over, pressing your ass against him, lightly pulling you back by the bunny ears still attached to your head to say his next words into your ear. His hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “Gonna let me fuck you stupid like the bunny you are? Gonna let me breed you? Fuck you full of my cum? Hmm Y/N? Is that what you want?”

He’s turned you into a complete mess underneath him. And he hasn’t even touched you yet. You're a moaning whiny mess, pressing yourself harder and harder against him, craving the fullness you want so bad.

“Yes, fuck yes Binnie! Want it, want it so bad. Give me your cum Soobin pleaseE!”

“Yeah bunny? You wanna be full of my babies?” Pushing your chest into the table, teasing you as he rubs his tip along your folds, teasingly pushing against your hole waiting for your answer.

“FUCK SOOBIN yes! Wanna be so full, wanna have your babies” It’s like he had you hypnotized. The thought of him pumping every last drop of his cum in you to have his babies had you clenching around nothing, desperate for him. “Please Binnie” you beg looking over your shoulder at him, “ Fuck your bunny, please”

With a soft moan, he confesses, “God damnit Y/N you’re gonna be the death of me” as he slowly sinks into you. Both of your Moans harmonize as he thrusts deeper, finally fulfilling both of your wants and desires. Savoring every moment of his perfectly sculpted length moving within you, stretching you in the most illustrious way.

“Pussy feels so good” he pants into your ear, fully sheathing his length inside you. Kissing along your shoulder he continues to praise you “so wet for me to baby, feels so good”, “you’re perfect, so fucking perfect”, “more than I ever dreamed” punctuating every statement with a kiss down your spine.

“Fuck Soobin please move” you plead, meeting his eyes over your shoulder again, watering with need. Soobin wraps an arm around your torso to palm one of your breasts, bringing you to his chest so he can kiss you. His other hand guides your leg up to rest on the table, opening you up more for him as he begins to drag himself along your walls before he begins to thrust back into you.

“Oh my fuck-KiNG GawwDd” you gasp into his mouth, his thick cock hitting the sweet spot inside you with knee buckling percision as you wrap your arm up around his neck to keep your balance. “So good- mm- fuck Soob so good!” Sloppily kissing him as he literally fucks you stupid. Your brain has completely stopped working, too stimulated to focus on anything but how perfect Soobin is fucking your right now. They way he moves in and out of you so smoothly, as every vein and ridge fits along you so well. Tears fall from your lashes as he brings you closer to climax.

“So good for me baby” pulling back from your lips, Soobin flips you around to face him, leaning you back against the table. Positioning himself between your legs, pulling you in by the back of your neck to meet your forehead to his, bangs pushed back slick with sweat. Locking onto your tear glistening eyes, while his free hand travels to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek, smiling as he tells you exactly what you’ve been feeling “you're made for me Y/N. We’re made for each other.” as he locks onto your lips while simultaneously sliding back into your fluttering entrance without needing to use his hands to guide him. Fully inside, your walls clench around his length, moans ripping through your throat as you come undone, his skilled fingers moving to circle your clit. Voice soft with affection, Soobin confesses his intentions, declaring “You’re mine, my bunny y/n. No one else gets to have you like this. Please?” Soobin hips don’t stop, fucking you through your climax, nodding to what he says while you moan and whine. His sentiment pushing you over the edge, snapping the tightly wound knot inside you. “Just want you. Fuck want you so bad. Please be mine” begging between thrusts. “Be all mine”

“Yours-mmm- ‘m all yours Binnie! Your bunny- jus’ yours” choking on your words as you mewl from the intense orgasm wrecking your body. Soobin’s movements become erratic, ready to cum.

“Gonna cum- fuck baby- ”

“Cum Soobin- cum for me- want it” excitement rings through your voice

“Want my cum? Please baby let me cum” he pleads in a deeper, raspy voice, trying to hold back

“Cum bin, cum in me- claim me- wanna be yours” wrapping your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull Soobin in to Kiss him, capturing his moan as he paints your insides white with his semen. Soobin pulls you in as close as he can, pushing deeper into you, pressing against your spongy core.

As he releases the last drops of his seed, releasing your lips but keeping you close, his gentle voice quietly declares “you’re mine. All mine y/n”

“Mmmm” you hum in agreement and he pulls out of you, covered in both of your fluids, small moans released from how overstimulated you both are.

Feeling empty now, anxiety creeps back in, making you ask “Are you mine too?” You ask with a slight waver in your voice, uncertain of his answer.

Soobin can’t help the stupid grin plastered on his face, thinking how could he not be? “Always have been Y/N” speaking against your lips before kissing softly.

“Huh?“ eyes wide as if he had just told you the craziest thing, and didn’t just fuck your brains out.

“I’m yours Y/N” he chuckles, holding your face in his hands, nose to nose “I want to be with you”

“Soobin- I-“ you start to stutter, your brain rapid firing ‘wait he likes me?’ ‘For real for real?’ ‘Holy fuck I love him’ ‘wait is he just saying that cause he thinks he needs to?’ ‘Whatever I can take friends with benefits’ ‘his dick🥵’ ’but I actually like him’ ‘no he said it he likes you back’… all at once overwhelming you, and unable to finish your sentence.

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to be with me I get it. We can just ignore this but-“

“WHAT NO!? NO nonononono no Soobin I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you that.. thats not what is happening here. I just don’t want you to say that because you think you have to cause all of this happened and I’m really in my head right now because why in the fuck would you ever pick me over literally anyone else in the world? But I Donno if I can-“

“Wooahh woah Y/N slow down. Backtrack for a second, did you just say you’re in love with me?”

“Hmmm? Did I what now?” You panic freaking out in your head again ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU JUST SAID YOURE IN LOVE WITH HIM! FUCK ME!’

“Do you love me?”

‘I do. I mean yes of course I do but should I tell him that right now? Like what if I ruin all of this? Oh no… nooo don’t look at me like that with your stupid cute face and puppy dog eyes. I do really love him’ your heart is beating out of your chest at your decision.

“Yes I do.” You look up into his chocolate eyes and everything calms down. The warmth he radiates through them at this moment pushes you forward. “I’m in love with you, Choi Soobin” His plush bunny shaped lips part in subtle shock that you actually just told him you love him. “But you don’t have to say anything, it’s totally fine I get it if you don’t feel the same way. We can just pretend I didn’t say anything-“

Soobin cuts you off slamming his lips back to yours, not wanting you to finish that statement because it couldn’t be farther from the way he truly feels for you. He doesn’t like the flash of doubt that washes over your face while you diverted your eyes from his. When he feels you melt into him and reach for him he gently breaks from your lips.

“I’m in love with you Y/N”

“Wait-“

BANG BANG BANG

“THIS YOUR 5 MINUTE WARNING” The director shouts through the door

Panic takes over the both of you as you rush around trying to find your clothes and put yourselves back together… well somewhat anyways. Praying to god everyone would be oblivious to what happened between you two or at least act like they were. Your lipstick was smeared all over Soobin’s face and neck, purple splotches decorating the both of you. At least his could be hidden, you were struggling to get the stupid bunny suit back on.

“Here let me help” Soobin ironically does up the zipper he struggled with earlier. Running his fingers along your spine as you put your hair back up in the ponytail. Leaning in to whisper, knowing the staff could barge in any second, he tells you “I meant it. All of it.”

“Me to”

“Tonight, your place”

“Okay”

“I wanna-“

“We’re here” the door flies open as the whole filming crew comes in. Soobin steps in front of you, somewhat keeping you out of sight. You stay back on hoping they just leave you be, reaching for the robe you entered with. While tip toeing to the robe, something catches your eye on the floor. Picking it up you see it’s the Polaroid Soobin took between your legs. Laughing to yourself you pull on the robe and see a pen. You write a quick note on the back before you return to hide behind Soobin’s tall frame and slip the photo in his back pocket, leaving a little treat for later.

You pull the bunny ears off and pull up the hood on the robe in a last attempt to hide yourself. Reliving everything that happened just moments ago as you twirl the ears in your fingers.

“Y/N! Hey? You good?” The director snaps you out of your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh yea I’m good. I’m great” red flushing your cheeks, unable to hold it back

“Alright well you’re free to go. Again thank you so much for doing this!” He bows to you

“Yeah okay. I’ll ummm.. I’ll go”

The look on everyone's faces was pure confusion. Considering how you were earlier they thought you would rip into the director. But you’re oddly calm…

Before leaving you turn to Soobin and tell him to duck down, placing your bunny ears on top of his damp and messy hair. “There, right where they belong”

He whispers “tonight?” And you nod back repeating him “tonight” smiling before you turn to leave. Passing the still bowing director as you walk through the door.

Smiling to yourself the whole way back to your dressing room. Finally arriving you walk inside and close the door leaning on it before your release every giddy squeal you’ve been holding back.

“Tell me everything NOW!” You’re bestie all but screams after seeing you, scaring you half to death

“HOLY FUCK WARN A WOMAN WOULD YOU!? Fucking gave me a heart attack”

“Yea sorry whatever TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

“Where do I begin?”

“At the beginning obviously no detail to be spared! Now spill!!”

“Okay okay!” You laugh before you start reliving the past hour of your dreams.

Somewhere in another room …

“SooooOoOooOooo How was everyone’s shoot?” Beomgyu asks raising his eyebrows in the most immature childish way

“It was fine, awkward but fine” Kai says first

“Yea I mean this whole idea was ridiculous, I just hope - is okay. I hope she wasn’t too uncomfortable.” Taehyun adds in, scratching his temple in thought

“Yea I know right? They must have felt so vulnerable. They are hella courageous though, props to them.” Yeonjun proudly says.

“It would have been hilarious if it was male models though” Kai says laughing maniacally “can you imagine dudes in those tiny tiny costumes?”

They all laugh together except Soobin, who hasn’t heard a word of the conversation. Thinking about you and how you felt on his -

“Soobin you’re awfully quiet… what’s up man?” Yeonjun notices, breaking Soobin out of his thoughts.

“Hmmm? Nothing- no I’m- I’m good sorry”

“Who was your model by the way?” Beomgyu slides over to him, trying to get the information from him

“I’m not saying”

“Come ON! Let’s all just share who it was! Mine was -“ Beomgyu starts

“I already said who mine was” Taehyun reminds everyone

“I had -“ They all looked at Yeonjun confused, no idea who he was talking about “the new junior..”

“Ohhhh” realizing who she is

“- was really nice. Honestly I was probably more nervous than her” Kai fondly says

“Come on Soobin! Tell us who was in that bunny suit for you?”

Shaking his head he refuses to say your name

“Tell us” Beomgyu continues his taunt

“Tell us tell us tell us” the other 3 eventually join in as well

“OKAY FINE just shut up”

“Who was it?”

“Yeah I’m genuinely curious now” Yeonjun adds

“It was y/n” whispering your name so quietly it would barley be audible to a fly on the wall

“What? Who was it?”

“Y/N” saying your name only slightly louder, still inaudible to anyone

“Hmmm?”

“Y/N”

“OH FOR FUCK SAKES SOOBIN WHO WAS IT!?” Beomgyu yells at him frustrated.

“IT WAS Y/N! Y/N! THERE ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?”

He yells back unable to control his temper with his junior

All eyes were the size of balloons, mouths hanging open, as if hearing the most shocking news of the century. Which, fair enough, when it came to Soobin’s gigantic crush on you, it was to them.

“What? So now you’re not gonna say anything?” Soobin snaps in irritation at them

“So how was it?” Taehyun breaks the silence first

“How do you think it was?” Soobin’s eyes squinting as he gets more irritated the more they ask about you. This needs to stop now because he can’t tell them what happened until you both talk. Tonight. At your place. Alone.

“Ouuu so it was bad?”

“No it was great, she’s a fucking goddess dressed in a bunny suit fulfilling my biggest fucking fantasy.” Sarcasm lacing his sharp words until he thinks about how perfect you looked and his voice softens “She looked.. fuck you know what I can’t talk about this.”

“It’s alright buddy we get it. Must of been brutal seeing her like that but not for the reason your really wanted” yeonjun comforts him

Little did they know he made that very fantasy real and it was more than he ever dreamed it could be

Turning to walk back to the set, Beomgyu sees something sticking out of Soobin’s back pocket. “Hey Soobin there’s something hanging-“ grabbing the photo from his back pocket, Beomgyu’s words die in his throat. The photo you so kindly left Soobin as a present.

Turning around in annoyance, Soobin sees Beomgyu holding a photo that has black writing on the back. Barely making out a ‘tonight’ and a little heart with an S next to it.

“What are you…” panic runs through Soobin’s body as he realizes that’s a photo and it’s probably the exact one he hopes it’s not, but judging by Beomgyu’s face, it’s exactly what he thinks it is “GIVE THAT TO ME NOW!” Just missing the photo as Beomgyu pulls its away from him

“You dirty perv, taking photos of your best friend like this without her knowing” Kai and Taehyun look over Beomgyu’s shoulder to look at it and Soobin dies a little more inside

“What is it? Let me see” Yeonjun walks over to see taking the photo from Beomgyu. “O-ohhh- oh um this is yours… there’s a note on the back btw” Yeonjun hands it to Soobin

“NOTE! What does it say!?”

“None of your fucking business that’s what!” Soobin snaps

“I literally just saw your picture of her pussy, tell us what it says or I tell her I saw it NOW!” Beomgyu wastes no time with his ultimatum

Soobin lets out the deepest breath and rubs his palms into his eyes in frustration. Pulling on his bangs and scrunching his face “FINE FUCK! Don’t tell her you seen this it’s literally they only thing she asked of me and I can’t belive I fucked up so quick! If she finds out I will kill you”

“Lips are sealed. Now what does it say?” Beomgyu puts on his happiest smile in Soobin’s mortification

Turning over the photo in his hand Soobin turns bright red as he reads what you’ve written

“Now you owe me one! 😉

See you tonight

❤️ -S

xo”

After wrapping for the day Soobin goes to immediately text you, wanting to see how you were and talk about tonight. “Where the fuck is my phone?” He looks around desperately, patting his pockets but coming up empty handed. “Has anyone seen my phone?” He asks the group

“No man sorry! Maybe it’s in the room?” Yeonjun suggests

‘Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk’ it hits Soobin that’s exactly where it is. Totally forgetting how all of this started. “Hmm maybe I’ll go check! Thanks Jun”

He calmly walks out the door and when he thinks it’s safe he sprints as fast as his long unathletic legs will carry him. Bursting through the door, he looks all over for the phone. Finding it face down on the floor next to the table. Flipping it over he sees ‘storage full’ indicating that it had indeed been filming everything.

Smiling like an idiot, he can’t help but think about what might have actually been captured between the both of you.

Opening his messages he finds your contact, sending your a quick message

“Can’t wait to see you later 🫶”

Three dots appear almost immediately and are then replace by your message

“I can’t wait to see you Binnie 🫶”

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi~

can i request a rhea smut where rhea is eating out her secret girlfriend backstage in theirbdressing room and either one of them are on a time limit to start their match? love your writing <3

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️smut, soft!rhea, dom!rhea, no plot at all

5 minutes

rhea was supposed to be in the ring in less than ten minutes to confront dom and liv, continuing the feud between the judgment day. she knew she had a time limit and yet that didn’t stop her from having you laying on the black leather couch inside the dressing room with her kneeled between your legs.

“rhea…we have to go…” you whispered, trying to keep your moans low. you had a match later that night against liv morgan and time wasn’t a problem for you, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were naked, your make up all ruined and hair all messy. you were probably the one who took the most to get ready and you knew that twenty minutes weren’t enough for you to fix the mess rhea made.

“i don’t care…let me make you feel good baby…” she moaned against your pussy. she was addicted to you, like you were her personal drug.

“you’re opening the show in ten minutes rhea…” you brought a hand over your lips trying to keep your whimpers shut.

she left a soft kiss against your clit and chuckled “i only need five minutes to make you crumble under me, you can’t say no baby…” and she was right. she knew you too well, she knew your weak spots and her mouth on your pussy was one of those.

“fuck…okay…hurry though…” you heard her laughing against your skin when you tried to give her orders.

“bossy, aren’t we?” she smirked, tracing your entrance with her tongue, teasing you enough to make your legs shake but not enough to make you cum. her tongue moved skilfully against your clit, her hands over your thighs trying to keep you still and her eyes moving between your folds to your eyes. she loved seeing how hard it was for you to keep it quiet.

“ripley, four minutes” someone screamed outside banging on her door.

“i can make you cum in two…” she whispered, more to your pussy than you. she knew what she was doing, and she knew she was good at playing with you.

you almost screamed when he teeth slowly grazed over your swollen clit. your hand covering your mouth as it was becoming harder to keep it shut “oh shit…” you let a few whimpers out when rhea’s tongue added more pressure over your bundle of nerves.

she moaned, inhaling your scent “right there baby?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“mh…right there, please” it came out as a desperate cry and rhea loved every second of it. she knew your body in a way that you didn’t even know.

rhea alternating between softly kissing your clit and hardly biting and kissing it, the whole situation made your legs shake so much that not even rhea was able to keep your body down “you coming beautiful?”

you couldn’t even answer, too lost in the pleasure your girlfriend was giving you. your hands found her hair and you slightly pushed her even more against your pussy “oh fuck…rhea…” your moans were like melodies for her, she couldn’t get enough. one last flick of her tongue was enough to make you cum in her mouth, but rhea didn’t stop there.

she cleaned you up with her tongue, softly, taking her sweet time to ride you through your orgasm. when you calmed down, she rose up from her knees and she helped you sitting more comfortably on the couch. some tears spilled as you came and rhea noticed your smudged make up. she smiled to herself, bringing a hand to wipe some of those remaining tears as she softly kissed your head “i’ll take good care of you tonight, i promise…” and you believed her, because no matter how rough and mean rhea was to you in bed, she always took time to make you feel safe and to take care of you, especially in those vulnerable states.

“i know…” your voice was barely a whisper.

“i have a show to open…” she smirked, fixing her make up quickly and leaving the room. leaving you there, looking like a mess and sitting naked on the couch as you watched her making her big entrance with her usual cocky smile.

your focus went to the match you had against liv morgan that same night and when you stood up from your sitting position, your looked yourself into the mirror and noticed how ruined your hair and make up were.

“fuck!” you almost screamed, looking at the time and trying to get yourself together before the start of your match.

rhea did a good job on you and you were kinda proud of how she handled you but she left you in a horrible state and you weren’t so sure that you were gonna be able to fix it.

[tiyoin]

You know twisted anxiety reader is gonna hate the events from book 5. Like "What do you mean people I barely know is staying here?"

They're just invading on reader's safe space. The only place she can be for a few hours without being so anxious she can't think or breath.

NVM ALL THAT

What does she do in the other events she can't be at the dorm? In book 3 does she sleep outside? In book 4 does Jamil make Kalim tell her Yuu and Grimm are okay or smth? Like after book 2 she doesn't really have a safe space anymore. People are constantly at the dorm.

Does she find a place to hide away when more people start approaching the dorm?

Anyways twisted anxiety reader is the bravest soldier. I wouldn't have made this far. Btw love all your work and you don't have to answer anything that's spoiler-ish/at all if you don't want to.

no because 🌀 will become a cryptic at ramshackle 😭

each guy will have their own interaction with her, but only at night. Jamil finally put Kalim to bed at 1 in the morning, only to find mc snooping through the fridge for a midnight snack

vil gets up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom (even he cant ignore nature for beauty sleep 😔) and mc is finally getting ready for bed and its a 🫵😲 🫵🤨 moment between them

rook gets up super early to work out/ go for a quick nature walk only to find mc on the porch watching the sunrise

Kalim gets up super early because he just cant keep his excitement in only to find mc on the couch doom scrolling and they have a heart to heart 🥺

epel comes back to the house early mad after practicing (he HATES this) only to find mc trying to learn the moves and having fun while doing it, helping him with his process of 'changing his fixed mindset' a bit

ace finds mc on the roof watching the sun set and they have a confrontational teasing moment that brings them closer

deuce forgot something at heartslabyul and was going to sneak out to get it but as he opens the door mc is returning from...wait just where was mc? doesn't matter, they both go together and bond 🤭

but other than these cute one on one moments, mc is in HELL, she cant do ANYTHING ANY MORE BECAUSE BOYS ARE EVERYWHERE!!

she goes to the bathroom for me time, only to have someone pounding on the door yelling about how they 'forgot they were lactose intolerant.' more than once has someone accidentally walked into mc's bedroom thinking it's there's because every room looks. the. same.

mc cant even explore in the middle of the night because EVERYONE IS AWAKE??? THE HOUSE IS NOW ALWAYS NOISY and now she has to temporarily find solace somewhere else- wdym mc is now you's assistant?

ive been thinking about how mc fits into the chronicles of twisted wonderland.

I think mc would follow along with yuu and grim to leona's dorm, but she'd try to make as little of a fuss as she can, but, leona here finds that more annoying and gives her extra things. (he also feels bad for her 😭)

but mc doesn't go the first time to the Scarabia when yuu and grim get trapped, not feeling in the partying mood. but she does try to visit/ go there (because she promised yuu and doesn't want to let them down) the next day... or maybe in a few days?

its either mc also gets trapped or gets kidnapped by one of the leeches in the middle of the night when yuu escapes to the lounge 😭

but yes, mc gets forced to start exploring more and more of the campus as more and more people decide to cause her problems (call it the 'push of fate,' that causes you to react to your situation)

that's where singer au and ice skating au comes from... maybe she comes across a club or the heartslabyul animals!! or an 'abandoned class room' that's actually used for a club and is then forced to join said club....

I think mc would have a whole array of hiding places she can use that will eventually come in handy!!

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment Section (pt.5)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Spencer get invited to another convention and host a panel; the fans are ecstatic and you have never felt so high, so happy and truly carefree in your life that makes you do things you would have no considered doing...

─ · · TAGS: SPOILERS IN TAGS!! gender-neutral pronouns, angst, social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at comedy, alcohol consumption, slowburn, light swearing, kissing, fluff, mutual pinning, friends that act like lovers, friends/lovers.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART FOUR | PART 4.5 | PART SIX

─ · · A/N: will they... won't they...

─────── · ·

🔔 angelagiovanagiarratana, just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

─────── · ·

Much Time Later...

🔔 CreatorCon just posted, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by spennser, ianhecox, (name)s_username and others

CreatorCon please give a warm welcome to our newest additions to this years panel roster: (name) and Spencer Agnew from Smosh! 🎉

View all 1,577 comments

username99 not to be the grammer police or anything but you should also put (name)'s last name if you are putting Spencer's down since they are both not married 😬

↳ username01 shhh let them join the ✨ delusions ✨ ↳ username84 grammAr not grammer* ↳ username99 shut up 😘

username32 please bring back Brennan Lee Mulligan again!! I am on my hands and knees begging you, please!!!

username22 spencer helping (name) up the stairs and (name) holding the door for them afterwards is just so sweet 🥹

username48 hopefully the V.I.P passes actually work this time around

↳ CreaterCon we are so sorry to hear this, please send us a direct message to let us know what we can do to further improve your experience. ↳ username48 fix your shit. ❤️

username10 what is going on?? what about the Theorists panel, does anyone know where that got moved to?? I can't find any info on the websites or socials 😭

username50 love the line up (so far!) would like to see even more members of the Smosh family though. But I am really looking forward to this!!

username43 those crowd questions about to go crazy, too bad though they will probs limit their personal life stuff.

username19 they about to make a whole 1000+ people crowd third wheel, now that is talent 👏👏👏

smosh thank you for having them both for the weekend, us parents need a break every now and then

↳ smoshpit yes, please take them for us. PLEASE 🙏 ↳ ianhecox (but seriously don't actually, they make us a lot of money) ↳ smoshgames wait, why am i just finding this out now 😭 ↳ username67 for once i am actually fine with company account commenting, what is going on?!?!?

(name)s_username so excited to attend, thank you for having me and my "husband" 🤣

username71 OMG after last years PAX and CreatorClash events I am SOOO READY FOR THESE TWO AGAIN. ORGANIZERS ARE IN THE KNOW ABOUT (NAME) AND SPENCER, (YOURSHIPNAME) FOREVERRRRR!!!!!!!

spennser we are never escaping the allegations...

↳ (name)s_username never 🤣 ↳ username44 (yourshipname) actually addressing (yourshipname) directly?? never thought i would live to see the day! ↳ username01 we take this as them admitting feelings... right... right? ↳ username39 touch grass.

username29 Does anyone know what they are willing to sign or if they are signing stuff this year??

─────── · ·

🔔 SmoshCast just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

─────── · ·

What is the best movie? (definitively)

Smosh Cast ✓ [Subscribed] Like 128k | Dislike | ... 582K subscribers 488k views 2 days ago #7 on trending (name) and Spencer debate the greatest form of every media. from movies to tv shows, video games and music; listeners are in for a wild ride.

2,222 Comments

username56 2 days ago Really missing Amanda and Shayne doing the weekly episodes, but I guess I can survive on (name) and Spencer... username77 2 days ago Why is nobody talking about how outstandingly (name) preformed in their movie?!?! I just watched it this weekend and was floored by their preformance. I'm surprised it didn't get any further mention in the videos! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username62 2 days ago I am shocked that a youtuber, nevertheless a comedian could portray such range and subtle expressions- it was beautiful even with what little screen time they had in comparison to others. They took away every scene they were in! ↳ username88 1 day ago I really hope they receive recognition, I really think (name) could make it mainstream. I mean, their connections alone from starring in this but be crazy. ↳ username19 1 day ago Im a selfish fan I will admit, I wouldn't want them to leave Smosh for other projects. In all honesty I could not image not having them in front of or in the background of Smosh videos. I mean could you even think of how Spencer would react?? They are stuck to each other like glue. ↳ username33 1 day ago they both are adults, i'm sure they could work something out. (name) shouldn't be held back from becoming something greater (even though they are great now!) because of the "kinda" relationships they are in. ↳ username20 1 day ago I think time will tell us the answers. But I really hope that (name) considers all their options... username01 2 days ago I have been living for all these play fighting and argument videos of the two of them. Like they have chemistry, a degree of hate for one another in some ways (but like healthy silly hate)- i'm pulling out my hair more and more as to why they won't just kiss already!! username67 2 days ago Okay but (name)'s take are 100% based. homebro/girl knows what they are speaking about and never missed ▼ 31 replies ↳ username72 1 day ago Yeah but I think Spencer's take was more well rounded especially in the TV Shows argument. ↳ username22 1 day ago Couples Therapist Here, I just like how they can argue so civilly with one another and really show active listening with one another. Take the eye-contact, small head nods, and inclined seating with restating what they said and expanding upon it. Its beautiful really plus they both know a lot about their field so that helps too I guess. ↳ username88 1 day ago OMG please make a full video break down of one of their videos together, it would do really well!! ↳ username10 1 day ago Yes, Please!! username27 12 hours ago Okay, but we all known that the best video game is Purble Place. username50 30 minutes ago I can't wait to hear from you both in person, have it marked on my calendar!! username91 1 hour ago cringe. username43 5 hours ago Okay but now I need tier lists on them together. Video Concept #1: (name) and Spencer rank every time they almost fell in love and the one time/multiple times they really did. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username66 1 hour ago Officially am deceased XD ↳ username21 1 hour ago Video Concept #2: (name) and Spencer rank every hangout that was actually a date username74 30 minutes ago why am I crying when the video ended?? Like I want whatever this is.

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by spennser, co_mill, anthonypadilla and others

(name)s_username it was awesome meeting everyone, same time next year? 😄❤️

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CreatorCon let's make it a date? 😉

↳ (name)s_username noooo, not again! 😩 🏃‍♂️💨 ↳ username41 bwahahahhahahah!!! ↳ chickenshopdate oi!! 💢😡 ↳ (name)s_username ummm, now this is awkward... 😬

username88 was not long enough, i could listen to the two of you speak all day. defiantly worth the money!!

tomeybones i don't think florescent lighting was anyones light but you shine beautifully in it!

username48 glen powell's character should have gotten back with you at the end of the movie, you both had better chemistry!! Its giving La La Land all over again 😭

co_mill wished we could have made it but great work bestie, you killed it up there!! ❤️❤️

↳ (name)s_username aww thank u! would have loved having you there too ❤️❤️

username40 okay google, play "can't help but falling in love with you." move out of the way spenser, if you don't want them- i'll glady take (name)!

spennser good job fellow "spouse" 👍

↳ (name)s_username yes, you as well, "spouse" 👍 ↳ username01 okay, but this is just straight up cruel 😭

anthonypadilla i didn't see anything appear in the news so good work team!

damien_haas so as I was stuck in the signing booths you both were playing with paper airplanes and arm wrestleing?? What fairness is this?? /sarcastic positive

username71 OMG how did I just discover you now and miss a chance of meeting you?!?!?

username60 please tell me that there's a sequel coming out, I refuse to accept that you didn't re-marry him in the film 😭

phatchance excuse me but I know these two people packing out a 2000 person panel and they are the coolest ❤️

username31 I was too scared to ask anything because you both are just such pretty people like holy crap I love you both so much, you all mean the world to me and thank you so much for the hug. I am never washing the coat now

↳ username77 so that went progressively down hill lol

username12 Day 1.4 million of asking, just get together, or fuck, or something, anything but this (or breaking up for that matter) with Spencer. Like get it together.

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🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!

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🔔 SmoshPit just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

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Sneaking into Concerts??? (Two Truths, One Lie)

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 79k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 370k views 1 weeks ago

7,889 Comments

username31 1 week ago I know I sound like a broken record but it feels weird not having Spencer or (name) in front of camera for once. I got so used to them always being part of the cast like Courtney or Ian. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username29 1 week ago I think around the 12 minute mark, Courtney said something about them both calling in sick. ↳ username73 1 week ago I mean... did you see their stories with one another last night? They both were properly wasted LMAO ↳ username90 30 minutes ago (name) is such a cute drunk, just complimenting and flirting with everyone until Spencer asks them to shut up or hugs them. Damien and Alex really had their work cut out for them hahahha! ↳ username20 4 hours ago Okay but external videos also show they dancing together and grabbing waters its so wholesome that even when heavily drunk they are constantly thinking about one another username88 1 day ago Would have never thought Anthony would have been the one to sneak into a festival! username28 12 hours ago Did anyone manage to catch (name)'s or alex's story last night or was I just seeing things before it got taken down?? ▼ 301 replies ↳ username90 30 minutes ago OMG YES! I threw my phone in shock!! Should've taken a screenshot I am kicking myself rn. ↳ username01 30 minutes ago I. am. not. okay. physically and emotionally after this. username55 4 days ago HAHHAHA "sick." hmmm sure (name) and spencer, sure...

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🔔 (Yourshipname) Updates just uploaded!

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"Drunk Minds Speak A Sober Heart:" A (yourshipname) Edit

(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | ... 1.12K subscribers 499k views 1 week ago #2 on trending click to expand

14,119 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator (yourshipname)updates ✓ 1 week ago I will take this video down if requested by either (name) or Spencer but for now... MWAHAHHAHA they have kissed with photo evidence!! ▼ 173 replies ↳ username97 1 hour ago I think I have just ascended. This is truly one of the best days of my life. Take this all your non-believers and haters!!! Amazing edit BTW! ↳ username11 1 week ago I don't think they are going to bring it up anywhere but a small victory is a victory nonetheless. I see this as a mission success boys!! ↳ username01 1 week ago I am happier for them and their still non-relationship than my own long term one hahahhaa ↳ username27 12 hours ago I am in disbelief, I never thought they would. I don't care if they were both hella drunk, they actually kissed?!?!? Like I don't know how to process this information. ↳ username13 12 hours ago fwehd0dfygdkospfhjhgf ↳ username44 just now eloquently said. username23 1 week ago 12 years of pining for one drunk kiss, I'll take it gosh darn it! username90 4 days ago Am currently re-watching all the edits and past moments while having this picture on the side monitor. I am living in a peak moment rn. username80 2 days ago I called my mom to tell her about this and she cheered as well. usernmae32 just now (name) just confirmed on their twitter that them, spencer and the rest of the smosh crew are all going to the oscars! ▼ 4 replies ↳ username13 just now Yes!!! LETS FREAKING GOOOOO!!!! username60 4 days ago This will go down as one of the greatest love stories in the history of the internet; i need movies, more fanfiction, music, and more fanart!! username78 10 hours ago happy for them, truly.

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─ · · A/N: 😉

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria

[pshwrldd]

sorry…

Warning: kissing,skinship, fighting (lmk if i missed anything!!) Genre: angst, fluff sypnosis: you have been married to your husband for 5 years, and today is your anniversary. You and minghao was supposed to have a date night but he canceled it?….

‼️not proofreadd‼️

today was you and minghaos 5th year wedding annivesary. Minghao was supposed to bring you out for dinner today to celebrate, or so you thought.

you were getting ready for your dinner date with your husband, who was supposedly on the way to pick you up from home until suddenly you got a notification from minghao,:

HUBBY<3: sorry sweetheart, but i dont think i can make it today… theres an emergency at work, i promise i’ll make it up to u alright?

You sighed reading that message, Minghao had always been a very caring and loving man but you knew minghao was often very busy, and you have always been patient about it. But today was the last straw.

You thought to yourself, maybe minghao finally made time to spend time with you on this special day, but a part of you also knew you shouldn’t get your hopes too high. You leaned back in ur chair amd looked at that messgae again feeling disappointed and … angry.

you sat on the couch waiting for your husband pissed off.

it was about midnight till he finally arrived home from work. You heard the keypad from outside and the door opening.

The atmosphere was thick with tension. Minghao walked uo to you, saying,

“sorry honey, it was really bust today at work an-“

But before he can continue u snapped, tired and frustrated at his excuses.

“So what if you were busy? Can’t you make some time for your wife on OUR ANNIVERSARY DAY? I have been patient knowing that you will always be busy due to your job but-“

Minghao answered back before you could say anything else,

“I know okay? I know, im sorry?! Like i said i was busy and today was a tiring day. I said i would make uo to you right?? I have-“

“no. Stop, stop saying you will make up for it!! I’ve heard all of it, you keep repeating the same things over and over again, but u never keep your promise!” You shout angrily.

minghao flinched hearing you snap, throughout the whole marriage, never have he seen you this angry.

“baby, im sorry but i have been super busy and u know it! So please understand and-“

“STOPPPP”

He stopped seeing you breaking down into tears. Guilt and concern etched minghaos face when he saw you cry. He rushed to ur side and hugged you tight in his arm. “shhhhhh, im sorry im sorry. i know, i know… im sorry, shhhh…”

he scooped you up and places u on the couch beside him, still hugging you, whispering comforting words to you as u sunggle against his side. Oh how much you missed his hug,

the atmosphere felt like a warm bubble that protected the both you. After awhile your sobs eventually stopped and you fell asleep.

Minghao chuckled feeling ur body relax againts his. You looked so peaceful in your sleep. Minghao kissed the top of your head,adding with a gentle tone,

“good night sweetheart, sleep tight”

nanas love note🫶🏻: FINALLY BACK WITH A NEW ONEE?? my first angst!😖 angst is one of my weaknesses buti wanted try<33 And i definitely wouldn’t be posting this if my biggest Supporter wasnt helping me. @icyy-hoon <33 [ilh so much i swer] anywayss wanted to write minghao to dedicate to my themee<3 anyways not to waste anymore time and i hope you enjoyy<333

Taglist (send ask or comment to in!!): @jakesangel @jaysng @icyy-hoon @amorek1m

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Jason with his time in the league of assassins

Talia walks into the small modest room where Jason is livening in while he gets back on his feet, having a bunch of brain functions recovered takes a while to get used to. he's been doing physical therapy and occupational therapy for the last couple months, his dexterity isn't exactly back yet.

Talia: Jason? what are you doing?

Jason: well there's this thing I always wanted to try called stop motion animation, and well you got some lego's for Dami but he's a bit too small for them so.. I took them and have been animating. I was bored in-between everything, you don't have any good books I haven't already read.

Talia: well that is an acceptable pass time, what are you making?

Jason: oh it's a weird comedy spoof for kids about batman and the joker being nemesis's, I wanted to make it for Dami since well he doesn't know much about him or the other ones and he's only 3 and well it doesn't seem like much but the time I'm done he'll be 5 and be able to enjoy it. i don't know talia I'm bored and want to make something for him.

Talia: very well, if you so wish. I can get some people in to help you make it if you wish.

Jason: really?

Talia: yes, I can. it does sound like a nice gift.

Jason: oh thank you!

Many months of therapy complete, he starts to retrain and regain all the fighting skills he lost and learn some new ones. in the meanwhile, Jason and 3 other people have been making a complete feature film for Damian who's just turned 4, they were about halfway done and it was looking good.

Talia: so how's it coming along?

Jason: it's been hard and hurts like a bitch, but I'm getting better at flips!

Talia: no. not that, I mean the movie?

Jason: oh it's halfway done! me and the one man and 2 women are doing great we reshot the opening, and we are more than 68% done! so it will be ready by Dami's birthday.

Talia: he will enjoy it I believe.

Jason: of course he would, it's his first ever kids movie!

Talia: why yes it is!

many many many more months pass and it becomes Dami's 5th birthday and Jason and his crew had wrapped up, the voice acting was done mostly by himself, and the crew but he asked some of the league for other voices. eventually after scoring and mixing they met the deadline. they set up the league theatre and put the movie on.

lego batman: [voice over] Black. All important movies start with a black screen... And music... Edgy, scary music that would make a parent or studio executive nervous... And logos... Really long and dramatic logos... Warner Bros. Why not "Warner Brothers"? I don't know... Hmm... Not sure what LOA does, but that logo is macho. I dig it... Okay. Get yourself ready for some... reading. "If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change. Hooo." No. I said that. Batman is very wise. I also have huge pecs and a nine-pack. Yeah, I've got an extra ab. Now, let's start the movie.

Dami: momma? what's the movie about?

talia: your father

lego Alfred Pennyworth: Were you looking at the old family pictures again?

lego Batman: At the what? The old family... Oh, yes! I see what you mean. Look at that! The old gang. Yeah. No, I wasn't.

lego Alfred Pennyworth: I see. Sir, if you don't mind my saying, I'm a little concerned. I've seen you go through similar phases in 2001 and 2006 and 2008 and 2005 and 1997 and 1995 and 1992 and 1989 and that weird one in 1999. Do you want to talk about how you're feeling right now?

lego Batman: I don't talks about feelings, Alfred. I don't have any, I've never seen one. I'm a night-stalking, crime-fighting vigilante, and a heavy metal rapping machine. I don't feel anything emotionally, except for rage. 24/7, 365, at a million percent. And if you think that there's something behind that, then you're crazy. Good night, Alfred.

lego Alfred Pennyworth: Sir, it's morning..

Talia: *laughs*

Dami: *chuckles*

Jason: *smiles with accomplishment*

lego Batman: [Batman's song] Who never skips leg day?

Chorus: Batman!

lego Batman: Who always pays their taxes?

lego Batman, Chorus: Not Batman!

Talia: *wails with laughter*

Dami: what are taxes?

Jason: you'll know when you get older don't worry about it

The lego Joker: Are you seriously saying there is nothing, nothing special about our relationship?

lego Batman: Whoa. Let me tell you something, J-bird. Batman doesn't do 'ships.

The lego Joker: [Confused] What?

lego Batman: As in "relationships." There is no "us." Batman and Joker are not a thing. I don't need you. I don't need anyone. You mean nothing to me. No one does.

Talia: that is your father's arch-nemesis the joker

Dami: oh okay

Jason: please kill him for me

dami: okay Jason, i will avagange, e-venge, avenge your honour!

Jason: you have no idea what that means to me buddy *wipes away a tear*

Lego Robin: My name's Richard Grayson, but all the kids at the orphanage call me Dick.

Lego Batman: Well, children can be cruel.

Jason: when I first heard dick's name I unironically thought everyone was just calling him a dickhead so much that the name dick stuck, but nope turns out it's short for Richard. he even changed his name to dick, I personally would never. but he pulls it off flawlessly. *chuckles*

talia: I did not know mr Grayson preferred to be called Dick.

Dami: who's dick then?

Jason: oh he's your older brother.

Lego Robin: What? [Sees Batcave]

Lego Robin: It's the Batcave! Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygooo-! [Bumps into Batman]

Lego Robin: Batman, woah!

Lego Batman: You're darn right, woah!

Lego Robin: Wait, does Batman live in Bruce Wayne's basement?

Lego Batman: No, Bruce Wayne lives in Batman's attic.

Talia: *DIES OF LAUGHTER* oh Jason this is amazing.

Jason: I wish to impress!

Lego Robin: Hey, I was thinking. If I'm gonna be a superhero, and go on awesome superhero missions like this one, can we use code names? Mine can be Robin.

Lego Batman: I'm sorry, say that again?

Lego Robin: Robin.

Lego Batman: As in the small, Midwestern frail bird?

Lego Robin: Yeah, and I already have a catch phrase. Tweet, tweet, on the street.

Lego Batman: Hard pass.

Lego Robin: And a song. [singing]

Lego Robin: Fly, Robin, fly.

Lego Batman: Harder pass.

dami: *laughs so hard he coughs*

talia: habbibi careful, don't laugh so hard you will hurt yourself

Jason: honestly yeah you can hurt yourself badly.

LegoRobin: Wow! Look, it's the Bat-Sub!

Lego Batman: Wait, don't touch that!

Lego Robin: Over there! It's the Bat-Space Shuttle!

Lego Batman: Please keep your hands off that.

Lego Robin: Look, it's the Bat-Zeppelin!

Lego Batman: Don't touch that, either!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Train!

Lego Batman: No!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Kayak!

Lego Batman: No!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Dune Buggy!

Lego Batman: No!

Lego Robin: It's the Bat... Shark Repellent?

Lego Batman: [pause] Uh, actually, you can touch that. It's completely useless.

Talia: shark repelent is actually a quite useful invention why is bruce beloved not recognising it's full potential?

Jason: keep watching

Dami: does father have all those things?

Jason: sure does!

Lego Batman: We are gonna steal the Phantom Zone projector from Superman.

Lego Robin: [frowns] Steal?

Lego Batman: Yeah. We have to right a wrong. And sometimes, in order to right a wrong, you have to do a wrong-right. Gandhi said that.

Lego Robin: Are we sure Gandhi said that?

Lego Batman: I'm paraphrasing.

Talia: *laughs*

Dami: *laughs so hard he starts coughing AGAIN*

Jason: ghandi so said that btw.

lego Jim Gordon: [sees Robin for the first time] Who is that?

lego Robin: Hi, police man!

lego Jim Gordon: Is that your son?

Lego Robin: Yes, I am!

Lego Batman: [laughs nervously] Is that my son? No, that's just weird.

Lego Jim Gordon: It's weirder if it's not your son.

Jason: this interaction is based off an actual interaction between jimmy and Dick.

[batman and robin arrive at the fortress of solitude]

lego Batman: Hey, kid!

lego Robin: Yes, sir?

lego Batman: You're super nimble, right?

lego Robin: I sure am!

lego Batman: And small?

lego Robin: Very.

lego Batman: And quiet?

lego Robin: [whispering] When I desire to be.

lego Batman: And 110% expendable?

lego Robin: I don't know what that means, but okay!

Jason: bruce really did not know how to deal with a 11 year old child hellbent on murdering a mob boss, so he kept bringing him along on incredibly dangerous missions, it was always fine in the end but this sort of situation happened once.

Talia: really?

Jason: the expendable part was from a wayne tech family event, and they crushed it. but dick had to sacrifice himself to help bruce win, it was so funny. I was there.

Lego Batman: White. All important movies end with a white screen.

Talia, jason, the other 70 league of assassin members and Damien break out into applause for the movie.

Jason: THANK YOU ALL, but special thanks to Gerald, and lily and Rin!!!! I WOULD HAVE NEVNER FINISHED IT WITHOUT YOU THANK YOUUUUUUU

the audience bursts into a large uproar of applause.

Prev | current | Next

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 16 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13 — Part 14 — Part 15 — Part 16 (here) — Epilogue

“203 shots.” Carmilla announced once the time was out.

Husk halted in his attack while Valentino dropped to the floor, the charged cards all losing their effects and fell to the ground one by one. Wounds all over Valentino’s form to the point where it looked like he was dumped in red paint. The demon didn’t even have the energy to argue or ask what all that was about. On the other hand, Husk landed on his feet and folded his wings with a proud look on his face, evident by his smirk. 

“The victor is Valentino, since he had landed more shots.” You spoke up, not missing the way Valentino gave Husk a dirty look while Husk wasn’t even fazed by the ‘lose’. 

Valentino taunted with a smirk, “Can’t even win when you cheat.”

Husk gazed at him lazily, “For your information, you only said hit the red things, you never specifically say what red things. So… I wasn’t even cheating.”

“You..” Valentino growled, just as he was about to stomp his way to Husk, you interrupted.

“Husk, what would be your challenge?” 

“Flight.” Husk stated as his wings opened, “Let’s see who can reach our own booth the quickest. Or you could just give me the win.” 

Valentino’s eye twitched, a scowling frown shown. “As if I would ever.”

After catching your nod of acknowledgement, Husk started the countdown. “Ready, set, go!”

The moment Valentino opened his wings with a pained expression, Husk threw charged bomb dices at Valentino and readied his cards once more. In his wounded state, Valentino could only take the ambush and defend himself as best he could. “What is this…?”

Husk answered nothing and continued to attack while Valentino tried to evade. When Valentino was in the air, Husk counted and flew ahead of him with his healthier state, grabbing Valentino in whatever area he could get his claws on and threw the moth back onto the platform. From the amount of craters and the depth of them, everyone could see there was no playing around with Husk.

While the challenges all sounded simple enough and practically childish, it takes the participant’s mindset and logic to make it twisted. If one were to think simply, all would take it at face value, like Valentino did with his challenge when he summoned actual target boards to shoot. Husk saw the loophole in the rules and done accordingly, to satisfy your wishes while fulfilling his own personal wants. That was what you wanted from your Overlords.

Without a timelimit, essentially, this round could only end when one of them actually reaches their respective booth or Valentino gives up. 

“My bet’s on Husk for this round. What say you all?” Rosie opened a conversation while the platform’s battle continued. 

Every spectator looked over to Rosie who actually had the guts to chat during such an important event happening before them. Velvette looked over to Carmilla and Vox eyed Zestial for some form of hint as to what they could do or say since their status as Overlord was still relatively new in your eyes.

Alastor chuckled, “I second that. No way would the cat I brought under my well care lose to a moth of that stature.” He played with his cane as he gave the others a smirk, “Failure is not an option.”

You hummed, with a soft smile, you lifted your cup to your lips. “In that regard, if Husk were to have challenged you, would you lie down and protect his victory?”

Once more, Alastor chuckled, “Of course not, My Liege, the moment Husk regained his title by your will, he is no longer under my care but yours. However, I’d never let the challenge through,” He raised to his feet with a bow, “For all your precises souls should never fight each other for the sake of our own scabbles. Not unless,” His eyes glowed at the obvious implications. “You permit it, My Liege.”

Your smile widened. Alastor sure does have his way with words. “Well said, Alastor.”

“So the victor was decided the moment this challenge began.” Carmilla remarked with a grin of her own. “My Liege, you have a wicked sense of humour.”

You merely hummed as you sipped on your drink, making no comment on her claims. 

It wasn’t like Valentino didn’t tried to retaliate after Husk showed his true colours in his round, but it was more like he was unable to. Although the previous round was his win, he has exhausted his guns and bullets, adding to that, he was never the confrontational type where he battles other demons on the front line. Such was the reason why he was so keen on sharing the Overlord title with Vox and Velvette because they would hide his misability and weaknesses while showing his strength.

Still, even when it was Husk’s lost in the previous round, he used it as a guarantee win for his round. By inflicting such wounds and injuries on Valentino, the moth was basically powerless. It showed everyone Husk’s calculated moves and quick thinking to give himself the edge and step down on his opponent. Not to mention, showcasing his superior strength and powers even after just being released from his soul contract with Alastor.

“...I give up…” Valentino choked out.

“Tsk. Coward.” Husk clicked his tongue and backed away. 

“It appears to be a tie, so the winner of the final and special round will be the owner of Angel Dust.” You stated with a hint of playfulness. “The last round is simple.”

Valentino and Husk were forcefully moved to the oppose side of the platform while Angel and his cage was moved to the center. The platform was split into three areas, with the grey area that separated the red area where Valentino resided and the black area where Husk resided.  

“If this isn’t obvious enough, I’ll have Angel decide where he wants to go. There’s no catch or play. If Angel goes to the red shaded region, he will continue to belong to Valentino. If by choice Angel goes to the black shaded region, his soul contract will be moved to Husk as his new owner. The round ends when Angel touches either region. If Angel doesn’t move within 20 seconds, however, he will be… Well, let’s not get to that.” You grinned, “Oh, but the Overlords can’t leave their region, how to tell is their feet must be touching their respective region. Are the rules clear?”

“Yeah.”

“Crystal.”

“Wonderful.” The cage disappeared with the snap of your fingers and the round begins.

A smokey chain appeared around Angel’s neck and wrists just as Angel started to sprint to Husk’s direction, only to be dragged back. Valentino held the end of the chains with a snarl. “You must be f***ing high if you think I’d just let you go!”

“Damnit!” Husk cursed as he fired his charged cards at Valentino and the chain. 

“Let go of me!” Angel screamed. 

Husk’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the chains and their quality. Smoke and loose. Just like the contract. “Angel, pull back!”

An extra pair of hands formed and Angel turned around and planted his feet into the platform as hard as he could to give him some form of advantage against Valentino’s pull. “I’m not letting you boss me anymore!”

Husk closed his eyes as he tried to force out something.

“Overlords all have some sort of trump card or a more dominant and haunting form.” You told Husk as Alastor was cooking you a meal. It was late into the night and all the hotel residents were in their room but you three who were still lingering in the kitchen and dining area. “Take Alastor for example, he has an enlarged form and a more demonic form. The others also have them, but they are more secretive with theirs. It’s elementary but a crucial tool to use against others.”

“I’ve never had something like that before.” Husk spoke honestly and defendedly. 

You hummed since you couldn’t understand what the challenge was, you looked over to Alastor and asked, “Say, Alastor, which form is easier? Enlargement or demonic?”

At your question, Alastor’s head turned 180 to look at you, making a resounding crack sound. “Hmm, not sure. It came so easily to me. But… Perhaps demonic? Size manipulation does take a bit of energy. I merely prefer both at the same time.”

You smiled, “And how dashing you looked when you do.”

“Mn!” Alastor flinched at your comment and snapped his head to the side with a blush, “Thank- Thank you, My Liege.”

“Your meat’s burning.” You reminded.

Alastor immediately snapped back to normal and continued cooking while your words repeatedly looped in his mind like a broken record. 

You turned back to Husk, “I’d agree, demonic seems easier and more straightforward for you to master in a short time. However, because it’s so normal and easier, it’s seen as nothing special. So in terms of intimadation, it would be lacking.” You pointed and poked at Husk in the chest from across the table. “At the moment, your powers are limited because of your contract with Alastor, so there’s not much you can do. If you want to win against Valentino for your dear friend, you need to adapt and change the moment you’re released from your contract.”

Husk’s claw tapped on the table with a frown of uncertainty. “Can I though?”

“The challenge for his contract won’t be announced by me, initiative is with you. This will also be your only chance because I have will remove Valentino from my Collection of Elites permanently.” You stated.

“Is this something you can tell me?!” Husk flinched at the news. 

Your face was one of disinterest, near emotionless. “My keener Overlords are aware who would be next to be devoured. They are only in the dark about when it will happen. You’ll pick up this bit soon, or Alastor and the other would let you know in time. Some are saved and one’s not so lucky to escape. So you see, there will be changes.”

“... Okay… But if he’s to be removed… Then Angel will be free…”

You laughed, and Alastor even chuckled, a teasing smirk now on your face as you ridiculed Husk’s naive and fantastical thought. “To remove him means everything of his will be mine. Including Angel. I am no saint nor am I an angel that grants happy ending. This is Hell. All contracts under Valentino’s ownership wll be mine and so their souls will be reduced to nothing as well, just like their master.”

Husk gasped.

You got up and went to join Alastor while giving Husk one last advice. “Being uncertain and cowardly will cost you a lot more when you’re in my Collection. Remember these words.”

Husk roared as his wings opened and slowly enlarged, growing two times his size, then three, four, five, and six. Similar to an extra pair of hands, his wings curved forward and came to Angel’s side. The marginal coverts part of his wing gently wrapped around Angel’s form, while the other wing flicked at Valentino to produce strong winds that knocked him back to the edge of the platform. 

With Valentino’s hold over the chains gone, Angel was free. He immediately ran into Husk’s hold while Husk’s large wings covered Angel from Valentino’s view. “Husk!”

“You’re safe now…” Husk sighed in relief, his wings returning back to their usual size. He held Angel’s hand and looked in your direction. “It’s over. This round, this challenge is over.”

You smile. “Indeed it is.”

“No. No! I don’t deserve this! I was betrayed! Those fucking b*tches Vox and Velvette left—!”

“Don’t you dare talk down to them.” Your Cages all dove down into Valentino and began tearing into his body bit by bit, his screams rang in everyone’s ears as it went on. As that happened, you changed the content of the contract and moved the ownership of Angel to Husk before passing it into his care. 

Your Overlords all stood in attention and bowed deeply to you. Angel flinched and also did the same, silently thankful that you would allow such a thing and even let him have a say in this. Even though there was no need for you to even care when he acted so foreign and borderline hostile to you in the hotel. 

You crossed one leg over the other and smirked, leaning your cheek to your knuckles. Your head tilted with your signature smirk, “With that, this gathering is over.”

.

.

.

“Hellish morning today at 666 News, right, Tom?”

“Right you are, Katie. Don’t we have something important to announce to all of Hell today?”

Zestial was seated in the empty audience seat of Velvette’s new threatre while she was on stage with her workers organizing them and arranging everything.

“Breaking news indeed! This just in from our big boss The Collector, the Vees have broken off from each other! Velvette and Vox remains but Valentino is no more.”

Rosie grinned with sharpened teeth as she watched her people devour a feast provided by your generosity. She eyed the meal in front of her and her hands cupped an soul with a wavy tail at the top. A soul. Slowly, she brought it up to her lips and devoured it in one gulp.

“Gone. Disappeared. Dead. Off the face of Hell. Who knows, he’s gone that’s it!”

Carmilla and Vox were both looking over designs for some technological weapon and serveiliance system together in Carmilla’s workshop while her daughters were setting refreshments on the table.

“That’s not all, folks! We got news that Husk as returned to the Overlord ranks and has taken over Valentino’s region, the gambling areas and bars alike! Looks like he’s giving the other Overlords a run for their money, or should I say souls? Hahahaha!”

Husk’s wings let him hover in the air as he directed his contractees and Zeezi’s what to do for the Vees tower to be reconstructed as his base. Husk landed before Zeezi and gave her a smirk to while she returned, they looked forward to the construction before them.

“That was some big changes. Looks like after a meeting held by Carmilla Carmine, alleged leader of the Overlords, their members have changed and so have the domain ownership in this Pride Ring.”

“That’s right, Tom. So everyone’s gotta make sure to be more aware of the new Overlords and their domains at least. After the last purge, they are not pulling any punches. With Alastor’s return, the Princess’ win against Heaven’s extermination, there’s more to come for Hell.”

Alastor set down a tray of your favourites while your head was turned to the direction of Hell’s scenery, he placed everything in a neat order and bowed his head before he was gently moved by your Cages to take a seat in front of you. 

You turned your attention to Alastor and smiled. “I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Note: Now, this is the final part, but there's still the Epilogue that transitions into Season 2. Supposedly. Question for you guys~ What do you think is the relationship between the Collector and 666 News?

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @snowy-violet @charlottesskiss @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203 @hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft @lousypotatoes @crazysuityouth @jellyedkazoo @wat4r @kiraisastay @thealienartist @chefysawesomeideas @wtvbabes @patronizingbitch @koshi-kazu @craftyperfectiontragedy @scr4luv @chrollobb @mysterypotatoink @callmefe @dokukg69 @ratchetprime211 @freejayde @prettyprincess-ily @cgmajor @mook14 @ace-spades-1 @yuuandtheghost @abbiesxox @martinys-world @kiraisastay @umbreon-worshipper @crimsonflameproxy @the-gay-trash-gremlin @ratchetprime211 @soggyb0nes @newkatzkafe2023

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anothology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist | cw: oral (reader receiving)

Part Ten: Permission

A/N: We're SO back!

You’ve never been so happy to work an extra day.

Johnny gets the shop to himself on Sundays for walk-ins. Usually, he mans the shop by himself but you need to record the cash income from the convention in the ledger. Sure, you could do that during your usual hours the upcoming Wednesday and catch up on sleep, but you have too much nervous energy coursing through you. If you were home you would just be stewing on your couch the hole day and probably spiral into a panic attack. At least here, with a task and Johnny yapping in your ear, you don’t have to think about the fact that you made out with your boss too much.

Fuck. You really did that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You woke up in a cold sweat, fingers brushing over your lips as you tried to decipher if it was real or dreamed. If you really kissed John, if he really held a hand on your lower back as he walked you home, if he really gave you a second, light peck before saying goodnight. The itch of his beard lingers, as well as the warmth where his hands cupped your face. It felt so good. So fucking good.

Then the context settles in. The fact that you kissed your boss makes you want to throw up - not for any dislike of it, just the fact that your job is now in limbo. Hanging in the balance until you can talk to him on Wednesday. At least you can take the next couple days to collect your thoughts - come up with a good apology that will hopefully let you keep your job and some semblance of dignity. Somehow make sense of the fact that you’ve kissed John and Kyle and surely when they find out they’ll think you’re a floosy. Loose and easy and pathetic and gross. You couldn’t quite meet your own eye in the mirror as you tried to get ready for the day.

The current, formerly “Future You” is not very happy with the now Past You. Frankly, you’d like to deck her for leaving you in this state of a permanent heart attack.

“Och, I’m about tae melt.” Johnny mutters, appearing from his room and stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a thick happy trail that does not help you in your current spiral.

You just hum, gluing your eyes to the physical spreadsheet in front of you as you go through the sales from the convention. Numbers will clear your head. Yeah, nothing less sexy or more distracting than trying to do math with pen, paper and a TI-84 calculator.

“We should go get some ice cream.” Johnny leans over behind you, causing you to jump. Large hands settle on your shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of your head. At least Johnny is always touchy, you don’t have to read into it. You don’t think you could handle reading into it right now.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” You murmur, letting him lead you out of the office and flipping the out for lunch sign. You’ve been so lost in your head the entire day that you can’t fully pull yourself out of it - the same spiral of fears and self-degradation swirling around in your mind. A Cat 5 tornado of your own making. So stupid.

Johnny intertwines your fingers as you make your way down the street. Your hands swing lightly as you walk. Even with the heat, it doesn’t feel like too much. You’re not sure what it is - of you’re just comfortable or if Johnny just has something about him that makes touch feel perfectly natural - but it’s never overwhelming. Even when he’s hanging off you like a leech, it’s just Johnny. He doesn’t make you talk, doesn’t pry into why you’re so spaced out. He probably just thinks you’re tired. You are tired. So tired.

You don’t realize Johnny is saying something until he gently elbows your side. “Huh?”

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Oh, uh, I can get my own-“

”My treat.” He shakes his head, batting away the hand pulling your wallet out of your back pocket. You have no choice but to give in to him - there isn’t any point in arguing with Johnny.

“Thanks for suggesting this.” You murmur, as you sit at one of the wooden, outdoor tables in front of the shop a couple blocks down from the tattoo parlor. The tables are covered in the shade of trees and an awning, luckily, keeping the sun from beating down on you. It doesn’t stop your ice cream from melting nearly faster than you can eat it, but you don’t have the heart to complain after Johnny took you out and bought it for you.

“Aye. Seemed like ye needed some cheerin’ up. Never seen ye so sullen.” Johnny comments, casually stuffing a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes are sympathetic, though.

“Oh.” You thought you’d been doing alright at hiding it - came into the shop with a jokes and everything this morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much Johnny actually notices between all his volume and energy.

“Gonnae tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Might help.”

You shake your head. “I- I’m- I can’t.”

“Okay.” He smiles gently, giving you a once over. His eyes are so sharp. The others do it too - take your body language in piece by piece. It doesn’t burn like when Johnny does it, though. His gaze is consuming, even when soft.

He seems to let you off the hook, though. It’s impossible to know how much he does or doesn’t know - how much any of them know. It puts you on edge, the inability to ask. After all, to ask is to admit. If you admit to it, you might lose it all. Fuck why did you kiss John? Kyle you can explain away - just a fun little bet. You’re close in age, he’s pretty, you’re together a lot, you get along. Nothing to it - even if it feels like there was. Even if it feels like every time you’re near him you’re going to melt and the air gets too thick and all you want is to pull him to the back room one more time.

John… John you can’t justify like that. He’s your boss. He’s over a decade older than you. Easily. He’s been so good to you but that’s not an excuse - it’s not right. You’re jeopardizing his place in his community. You’re jeopardizing your job. The best job you’ve ever had. The best friends you’ve ever had.

You can feel Johnny glancing at you as you walk, your eyes square on the ground and fists clenched anxiously. The heat outside only makes your head spin faster. Your cheeks feel feverishly hot. The ice cream almost curdles in your gut. Everything is too loud, too hot, too heavy.

You glance up at the clock. The day’s almost over - there probably won’t be more than one or two people that file in at most. You’ve finished with your work, currently just cross hatching on a sticky note in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. It hasn’t worked. You need a distraction. A real, proper distraction.

“Johnny.” You snap, standing in the door way to his workroom.

“Hm?” He looks up, thick brows raised.

“I want a piercing.”

He cocks his head, taking you in from head to toe. “Aye?”

“If you have time.”

“I’ve always got time fer ye.” He grins.

You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too raw at the edges to really care about his usual flirting. There’s too much weighing on your mind - too much real anxiety knotting itself around your synapses and crushing them in it’s hold. The pain will help. It’ll ground you - sharpen your senses. You can focus on taking care of it for the next couple days between sleeping the days away until Wednesday. Until you can get this shit over with.

The only answer is to quit, right?

That’s your only option.

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks.

You shrug. “What’d you think?”

He taps his chin, eyes slowly making their way over your body. You wonder if he can see how tense you are - body so locked up your joints ache and your jaw throbs. It’s a wonder your teeth are still there with how much you’ve been grinding them.

“How about a navel?”

“Okay.” You agree too quickly, flopping back on the pairing table. You focus in on a water mark on the ceiling above while Johnny digs through his tool cabinet, laying everything neatly on a small rolling tray.

Johnny stops above you. You don’t even turn your head to look, fists clenching and unclenching.

You’ll have to quit.

That’s your only choice. No reference calls, no contact. Will Simon hate you? Will they all? Will they talk about why you up and left? Will they show up at your apartment to demand an answer? No. You don’t mean that much - only a blip on the timeline of their shop. The corners of your eyes burn.

Johnny’s fingers skate over your soft middle, barely touching as he passes over the button of your jeans. He pauses, glancing down at you. “Bonnie?”

“Yeah?” You reply a little too harshly.

Johnny leans over you, hands on either side of your head, blue eyes burning through your skull. He blocks out the light above. “Yer doin’ this because ye want to, yeah? Not to punish yerself?”

You shrink into the table, hackles raising. It really is so easy to forget that Johnny is an observant bastard. Loud, brash, but he still sees everything. Like how he learned your coffee order by heart without you ever even saying it to him or having it written on the cup. He absorbs things, files it away, keeps it close to his chest and hides it behind his blunt, brash daily manners. You’ll miss him.

“I- yeah, I’m fine.” You wince internally at the shake in your voice.

“Y’know, we all love ye.” Johnny murmurs.

You huff, eyes darting anywhere to get away from his. Laying on the table suddenly feels slightly trapping. You can’t get your gaze fully away from where he stands over you - so close as his thick arms cage you in. “Guess so.”

“An’ there’s nothin’ tae feel guilty or bad about.”

Your eyes snap to his face, wide and worried. Does he know? Was he told? Do you ask? If you ask, you’ll be admitting to it. If you ask, then he will know for sure. If you ask, you might ruin it all. “I don’t-“

“Ye do.” He cuts you off. “An’ ye have permission, even if ye dinnae need it. It’s okay. Ye havennae done anythin’ wrong.”

You stare, mouth opening and closing lamely. Johnny. Straight forward, loud mouth, unsubtle Johnny. Fuck, you love him for it. Doesn’t dance around what he means. Doesn’t avoid what needs to be said - from his end, at least.

“Did- did you talk to-?” You stutter, struggling between needing to know and fear to admit the truth so blatantly. Even if he obviously knows something.

“Not really. Not my business.” Johnny shrugs casually.

Not his business. So they persue separately, you think. That makes sense. Probably. It’s probably wrong to make assumptions about the dynamic, about the implication that they have some sort of free for all. Then again, you don’t really know anything about their interpersonal workings much. They live together, they’re touchy. The dynamic is a mystery to you - only adding to the piles of confusion.

“Yer thinkin’ tae hard about it.” He pokes the furrow between your brows.

Oh. Is that it? You’re overthinking? No, adults talk about these things. You don’t understand the interpersonal workings here at all. Are they together? Do they just do this? Pull girls in and push them around until they get tired? That feels too cruel for them. They’ve taken such good care of you…

“I still… want to talk.” You murmur, cheeks warm.

His face softens, a light smile tugging at his lips. “An’ ye will. Kyle’s been damn near loosin’ it with ye avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him!” You snap far too defensively.

“Sure ye aren’t.” Johnny shrugs, as if to tell you he knows that’s bull. Not his business, though, he said. “Just… donnae be so scared of us, aye? We’ve got yer back.”

Your shoulders drop, sore from being tensed for the entire day. “Okay.”

“Still want tae get peirced?”

You nod, chest far less tight. As though you finally let go of a breath you had been holding the entire day. “Sure, why not.”

Your shoulders slump as Johnny makes his way through the usual song and dance - showing you the freshly cleaned tools and marking the spot for the needle. Somehow the world seems… quieter. As if all the chatter in your mind had been just as deafening to your physical ears. It’s tiring. That same sting behind your eyes that you get after a long night out. Your defenses are down, and your body is finally at rest.

“Ow!” You gasp, lifting your head to meet Johnny’s impish grin with a glare. “A little warning next time!”

“Tha’s what happens when ye donnae listen.” He teases, slipping the jewelry through. “She’s cute.”

You snort. “She better be. Y’know I should tell John on you for improper conduct.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Aye, ye an’ Price know plenty about improper conduct.”

There’s no malice in the comment, or in the grin he settles on you. For once, you don’t freeze up. Don’t send yourself into a panic spiral over what he knows or thinks or feels. Johnny made himself clear. Instead you land a light smack against his arm and huff in embarrassment.

“Stand f’me.” Johnny murmurs after cleaning the piercing, a heat in his eyes that you can’t quite gauge the source of.

You do as you’re told, slipping off the table. You have to hook a finger into the waistband of your jeans to keep them up, cheeks hot as you realize how much is actually exposed with the fully undone fly. You glance up at a far too pleased Johnny. Didn’t even say a word, the mischievous bastard.

He drops to his knees in front of you. Your brows shoot damn near into the sky. Johnny mumbles something about making sure the piercing is sitting right. You roll with it, knowing he’s probably just saying whatever to get you to keep your pants undone a little longer. Your breath quickens as a large, warm hand flattens itself over your soft belly, unabashedly groping. Not that you mind, really, even if it does make your face so hot it might melt.

Your heart almost breaks out of your rib cage when he places a small kiss next to the piercing. His hand lowers, resting beside yours on the waistband of your jeans.

“May I?” Johnny murmurs, big blue eyes blinking up at you.

You have permission.

You don’t need permission.

You have it, though.

“Yeah.” You gasp, shivering at the cold air on your skin as Johnny pulls your pants halfway down your thighs.

“Pretty, pretty lass.” He murmurs, nipping at the softness of your belly and down to your thigh. “Look at ye.”

“Flatterer.” You scoff, attempting to let the tension melt off your shoulders with the usual snide remarks you slide each others way.

“M’just honest…” Johnny mumbles absently, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear. “Ye always walkin’ around in somethin’ this skintie?”

For a moment, your brows knit in confusion. That is until he pulls back and snaps the string of your thong against your hip. Your face somehow gets even hotter and you grumble out a poor excuse of, “S’laundry day…”

Your hips twitch as he traces between your lips through the cloth. So uncharacteristically slow and methodical for Johnny as he feels you, like he’s trying to memorize it. A shamefully harsh jolt runs up your spine as he presses just slightly into your clit.

“Sensitive little thing.” Johnny grins up at you. You swear the devil has a less delinquent grin.

“It’s been a while.” You shrug, aiming once again for casual and missing by a mile.

His grin only grows, eyes bright and hungry. “Let’s get these off.”

You shimmy your hips a bit to help him get both your underwear and jeans completely down. A wave of shyness overtakes you as it settles in that you’re utterly exposed to Johnny, your friend and coworker, in the middle of your workplace just as the sun has begun to edge down close to the horizon. It’s almost too much, and you almost yank your pants back on with a stammered, fake excuse, but Johnny soothes his hands up your thighs, gaze locked onto your pussy like it’s the only thing that exists and yeah… you want that.

You have permission.

“There she is.” He cups you gently, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit just hard enough to make you gasp.

Before you can say or do anything his hand retracts and Johnny settles you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen from him. It looks wrong, almost, on that face that’s supposed to have a permanent ear to ear grin.

“If ye want tae stop, I need ye tae tell me now.”

“No.” The word leaves you before you can even register the thought - desperate and breathy.

It earns a low chuckle. The only warning you get before Johnny licks a long stripe up between your lips, letting his tongue rest on your clit for just a moment before repeating the motion as though he’s not just eating you out but truly trying to truly get a taste for you. To memorize you as he drinks you in.

“Should let me give you a Christina…” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.

“Ah, wha-“

“Look so pretty on this fat little cunt.” Johnny gives you a light smack for good measure, grinning at the visible jolt that travels up your spine before diving back in. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, leaving you balancing on your tip toes with your hands flat on the table behind you. It’s precarious and with absolutely no room to escape the attention he’s lavishing on you. It’s almost desperate, the way he moves. The way he devours. A man utterly starved.

“Fuck-“ you gasp as his tongue piercing catches your clit. Rough hands knead at the softness of your thighs and hips, urging you to press into him, to take as much as he’s giving.

“Tha’s it, ride m’face…” Your fingers lock into his mohawk and Johnny’s slurred words become the most pornographic moan you think you’ve ever heard. He practically goes limp - body relaxed and pliant while you grind down onto his tongue.

You tilt your head forward, risking looking down only to meet those big blue eyes staring up at you with all the intensity of the sun. A shaky moan passes your lips and his eyes flutter.

“J-Johnny-” The whine of his name only spurs him on - has him pressing his tongue so deep inside you and drinking you in full.

If he has any complaints about the way your heel digs between his shoulder blades as you unconsciously pull him closer, he doesn’t make it known. His nails rake over your ass, biting and stinging in contrast to everything else. It’s so much. Heat continues to pool at the base of your spine - babbling words, please and moans spill messily from your lips.

Your climax catches you off guard as Johnny sucks harshly at your clit; lighting your body aflame with only his mouth. Every muscle inside you tenses and the sounds you let out can only be described as strangled whines.

You have to yank a little at Johnny’s hair to get him to stop when the overstimulation reaches just the wrong side of too much; he’s well and truly lost in the moment. It fuels your ego to dangerous heights - the idea that this gorgeous man became that intoxicated just from your pussy.

There isn’t even time to say anything before Johnny is standing and connecting his lips with yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his lips - somehow this is the first time you’ve found that pleasant. With heavy breaths you watch him wipe around his mouth his his palm, only to exaggeratedly lick and clean what’s left off his hand. Fucking sinful.

“Nasty man.” You sigh, too blissed out to be truly critical. Johnny winks and you roll your eyes.

“S’about quittin’ time.” He says, tilting his head to look up at you through thick lashes. “Should get ye home.”

You frown, still trying to come back to earth as you glance down. “Don’t- do you want-?”

He looks you over, your mouth goes dry as his hand drops from your hip to adjust himself. The implications of the outline through his thick denim has your head reeling and your breath quickening. Johnny chuckles at you, surely seeing it written plain across your face. You might as well start drooling and panting like a dog.

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to nip at your skin. “Another time. Want tae savor ye.”

You shiver, unable to stop the smile that quirks up the corners of your lips. You have permission. You don’t need it, but you have it.

A/N: Sorry if this is a little rough, I'm getting back into the swing of things. It's finally time for things to get fun, tho ;)

Also please give some love to this AMAZING fanart from @eurydicescurse

[alittlebitofloveliness]

okay hear me out here:

i’m a firm believer that darry and soda shared a room when they were little and then once pony grew out of the nursery they made that darry’s room and pony moved in with soda BUT pony probably stayed in the nursery for a while (probably until like 4-5) and maybe a little too long bc he’s their BABYYY.

but like ,, imagine little 4 year old ponybaby having a bad dream (not necessarily a nightmare but he’s a little spooked) but instead of going into his parents room (which is at the end of the scary dark hallway) he goes and finds darry and soda

mama curtis comes in to wake up her 6 and 10 year olds for school and there’s their baby brother curled up in between them🥺

(and don’t even get me started on how pony is cuddled up to darry and holding onto soda’s hand that would just be too much)

ANON THIS IS SO SWEET! You wrote it so I can picture it perfectly, little fluffy haired Ponyboy with his head on Darry's chest and his little legs sprawled across Soda, who's bony little limbs are sprawled out everywhere. he's drooling, his head smushed into his pillow to the point it'll leave little nap lines when he wakes up. Darry's holding Pony like you grab someone for a football tackle except way gentler and they're all three of them letting out those little snuffling snores that kids do sometimes. It would definitely be one of those moments where Mr and Mrs. Curtis would just stand in the doorway and watch them sleep for a bit before waking any of them up. Eventually Mrs.Curtis would go to start breakfast, and Mr.Curtis would try and lift a sleeping Ponyboy out of Darry's arms to put him back in his own bed without waking him, but Pony's a light sleeper so he refuses to go back to bed while his brothers are getting ready for big boy school, and everything is great until Soda and Darry are on the bus and Mr.Curtis is at work and Mrs.Curtis is left to deal with a cranky, sleep deprived toddler all by herself. (Anon if this is the kind of stuff you like you are NOT ready for the fic I'm working on right now)

thanks for the ask xx

[serxinns]

I forgot to add Yandere. Yandere Alien!Class 1-A x Human!Reader.

Their little earthing~

A/n: sorry for the rush and wait. I wanted to get this done very quickly! But I didn't want you to wait as well! I hope you like it

You were jogging one night while walking your dog you always loved the night you always admired the night as a child you loved looking at the bright stars and picking up small animals and drawing notes about them, yea you were a weird one and still were you were humming the music in your headphones not able to be aware that something or someone was watching you from afar

You notice a convenience store ahead and decide to stop by and get you and your pet a midnight snack before heading home you open the door as the bell rings you walk over to the snack aisle grab as many snacks you can afford and exit out the store until you heard some someone struggling you went out to see what was happening but to your surprise and confusion you spotted a girl with short hair struggling with trying to put a gas pump in the car confused you went up to her and tapped her shoulder which shocked her a bit

"Uh, hello. Need any help?" The girl stared at you as if you were some sort of beauty but snapped out of it "Hello hu- I mean friend! I'm just tryna find out how to fill up a moving vehicle!" She said, smiling. Usually, you chucked a bit. "It's easy, you just-" You took the gas pump out of her hands and put it in the hole. "See, easy!" The girl was amazed at the cute human's intelligence. She hugged you very tight. "Thank you! Thank you! So much. It's getting dark. Would you like a ride home?" She said you were a bit hesitant at 1st about going into a stranger's car but she seems nice and polite and wouldn't do anything to hurt you your dog was big enough to attack someone so if she ever tries to harm either one of you you'll know what to do plus you got a taser and a pocket knife in case she does something

The 3 of you got into your car and drove home. Even tho it was 5 minutes away, you made sure she went the right way. "So where do you live?" "At **** *** street right up ahead," you pointed directly to the road. "Oh, you lived there too?" She said with a bit of excitement in her tone, you nodded in response, "I live three stories down with my friends!" She explains, "Oh, your friends live here too?" "Yeah, 18 of them! Well, in separate houses, tho!"

"Jeez, 6-7 in each house sounds must be chaotic." Your thoughts were interrupted when she stopped at your house and said, "We're here!" Looking at you intensely with a bright smile, "Oh...thanks, I appreciate it! I didn't get your name." "ochako, Ochako Uraraka!" She greeted me with a bright smile as you got you and your dog out of the car "I'm y/n! This is my Dog D/N" you said as the dog's tongue hung low while wagging their tail Ochako smiled "It was nice meeting you y/n maybe me and you can hang out sometime!" You nervously laughed at the offer, trying not to show discomfort. "Yeah..maybe we will have a gold night!" You waved as she drove off

"What a strange girl..." you thought as you entered your own home getting ready for bed

"Phew that was close.." Ochako said as she changed back into her true form, a pink alien with a skinny tail at the back. She crept towards the living room, heading up the creaky stairs slowly, not wanting to wake up her roommates. "What are you doing up?" A stern voice echoed throughout the halls; the girl scoffed as she saw one of her roommates, Tenya Iida, in light baby blue pajamas, his sleeping mask hand on the top of his forehead. "I just wanted to uh..get some snacks. That's all!" Ochako said trying to think up some sort of shitty excuse to throw at him

Tenya started to sniff around. "do I smell?.. were you hanging around with a human?!" Tenya's voice was higher and more serious while Ochako winced quickly, shushing him. "I needed help and they helped me! So let me lend them a ride no big deal!" Ochako protested, trying to reason with her friend, which made him sigh in irritation. "We are going to have a group meeting in the morning about this, but for now, go to bed..." he slowly went back into his room, shutting the door. Ochako felt bad, but at the same time, she kinda.. didn't regret it she felt determined to want to be your friend or if anything closer

The next day roams around. You were busy attending to your garden in your backyard. It wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. It was the size of a kiddie pool. You were busy watering the flowers and picking off the berry bushes. You also took care of, "These would look good for some yummy desserts! And maybe jam!" You thought, drooling at the fantasy of the delicious dishes until some chewing snapped you out of it. You quickly turned to see a little white rabbit just munching away at your petunias. "Hey!" You yelled gently picking up the rabbit as he tried squirming away "the heck are you doing little theif?" You asked the furry culprit while it was trying to get away with a petunia in his mouth you were about to investigate more on the crime untill someone making noises like they're trying to signal a animal

There were 2 boys, one with brown hair and big lips, trying to comfort the other boy with peach skin with a rocky facial texture. The brown hair noticed you peeking out the back yard. "Oh, hello there! We were looking for a pet, a rabbit with white fur," the boy explained. You looked over to the bunny you were holding that looked the same description. The boy said, "Is this your rabbit?" You held up the rabbit high enough so they could see the worried boy was shocked and ran over and quickly grabbed him off your hands hugging and crying a bit "Thank you.." he managed to say as he poked at you smiling gracefully

"Heh it's no problem I just found him munching on my petunia little rascal" you teased at the rabbit while petting his fur the boy apologized repulsively as you quickly reassured him it was fine as the rabbit only ate two "I promise to pay you back my name is Koji, Koji Koda yours?" "I'm y/n! L/n" The two of you shook hands across the fence separating you. The brown hair, who was named Sato, came over and greeted you as well, and it was even nice of him to give you a slice of yummy cake as a greeting gift! Now lucky were you?

The two boys couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful and kind of you were, too. Then Koda wondered if you had any animals yourself while Sato was planning to bake something just for you!

Soon after you encounter most of your neighbors Denki invites you to a barbecue party along with his friends from, the other neighborhoods, and everyone I mean everyone greeted each other oh so even most gave you gifts all in their minds wondering about the same thing they just had to have you

Whenever you participate in a neighborhood event somehow your other neighbors like Mina, momo, and Jirou would want to join as well so will Yokoyama will tag along as well and they wouldn't even do the program just be too busy paying attention to you or to try and get your attention

Kirishima, Bakugo, and Ojiro would invite you to work with them in the nearby gym to watch you work out as they work out on their own they always compete to try and see who lifts the most trying to impress you or if you ever need help (you didn't) they'll try and do anything to smell your scent or find any excuse to touch you like holding your hands guiding you how you should lift a weight or bakugo and Ojiro wanting to spar box you when he's mainly just tackling you on the ground hands on your waist or your neck, and if you ever get any attention they'll do an abnormal glare at them signaling them to back the fuck off their little earthling

Momo would occasionally invite you to tea with just the two of you, and Koda would let his rabbit out on purpose in YOUR yard so he can have an excuse to go to your backyard and always excuse himself as in your wooden fence may has an entrance for animals for it, Sato and mochiko would invite you over to each other's house to go over to one house and you all bake together or have a baking competition

They all love their little human they plan to reveal their true intensity for you...someday tho maybe when they take you away but for now they work on protecting you with their lives

[tragicallyuncreative]

Johnny looked at me quickly. "I didn't mean nothing. I meant, well, Soda kinda looks like your mother did, but he acts just exactly like your father. And Darry is the spittin' image of your father, but he ain't wild and laughing all the time like he was. He acts like your mother. And you don't act like either one." -The Outsiders, Chapter 5

~

It’s funny, because Darry emulates his late father in so many ways (not just in looks and a shared name), despite trying his best to create his own path and not live that lifestyle. Don’t get him wrong, his father was his hero and he admired him beyond words, but didn’t want to struggle the same way his father did. He didn’t want to be stuck in a town he hated, break his back in construction all day for 20+ years, only to barely keep his family afloat and above the poverty line, and to have people look down on him despite trying his best. He wanted to be more, to get a degree, a high-paying job, be able to live comfortably, and yet here he is, stuck working for the exact same construction company his father did his whole adult life to keep a roof over the boys’ heads, always worrying that it’ll never be enough, secretly ashamed of his social status.

Soda, on the other hand, mirrors his father not in looks, but in personality and strives to live just as he did. He recognized from a young age that, like his father, his brain didn’t work the way his brothers did. Nothing came easy to him academically, but he doesn’t see why that should hold him back. After all, his father dropped out in 6th grade, and led a life that Soda views as nothing but successful: a steady job he enjoyed, a beautiful family that despite not having the latest car or fanciest home, was full of love, and a carefree attitude that kept him young at heart. What Darrel Jr. saw as a hard, sad, dead-end life, Soda sees as everything he could hope for. So while his brothers mourn what they view as the only way for Soda to lead a successful life (education), Soda embraces the opportunity to do something he truly loves, work he takes pride in, despite others not understanding. Why should he spend time trying to be good at something he’s not? He can earn money and contribute to his community and build up his trade career. He’s happier at the DX than he ever would be in school, just like Darrel Sr. was working in the cornfields of his adopted parent’s farm all those years ago in that little one-road town in Texas that was ravaged by the Great Depression. And when the Vietnam War breaks out, Soda jumps at the opportunity to again mirror his father in what he sees as the bravest and most noble thing a man can do: serve his country. His brothers and friends beg him not to enlist but he does, full of pride as his hair is buzzed and dog tags are placed around his neck, joining his late father’s, the ones he hasn’t taken off since the day of his funeral. On the first day of boot camp, he stands straight-backed and determined, ready to serve, to defeat the enemy, just like Darrel Sr. defeated the Nazis in 1945.

~

Hi! I have so many headcannons for The Outsiders universe rattling around in my brain, and I can't always share them fully in my stories, so I figured it's about time I started to share them here. Stay tuned for the backstory of The Curtis Parents, Darry and Two-Bit's friendship, and The Mathews Family. Enjoy!

[vickyvicarious]

Today's entry is full of Lucy/Jonathan parallels. It's so many throughout... I can't possibly quote every single one, but here are a few big things.

I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night. I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing.

vs

If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. (5 May)

+

These may be the last words I ever write in this diary. I slept till just before the dawn, and when I woke threw myself on my knees, for I determined that if Death came he should find me ready. (30 July)

Lucy is writing with the specific intent of keeping anyone else from getting into trouble through her - in other words, so none of the maids or her doctors or whoever will be blamed for her murder if she dies before the night is through. The first quote from Jonathan is not really a direct match to this sentiment, of course. But while I couldn't remember a perfect quote to compare, we see hints throughout his journal that Jonathan is writing in the hopes that someone else might someday see it. Perhaps Mina, perhaps some other guest to the castle... he hopes that the explanation of what happened to him, and detailing of what Dracula is, will prove useful. Perhaps it will help someone else protect themself - just like Lucy hopes here. (This is of course not his only reason for writing. Another major reason why is how it helps to keep him sane and helps him plan escapes. Still, it is one of his reasons.) And certainly, the sentiment that the record is important to keep even at risk to oneself, is a shared link between them. Both of them also show a determination to face their death directly.

This line is also an echo of the various times Jonathan (and, more recently, Jack) experienced something seemingly impossibly horrific, and made a big point that they were writing things down exactly as they happened.

The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling; the dogs all round the neighbourhood were howling; and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing.

vs

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! (24 June)

Lucy awakens after the first attack of the night to the sound of dogs howling (amongst other things). Jonathan too has been saved from a trance by this noise, though in his case it was a close call. Dracula certainly seems to have successfully hypnotized her and most likely did drink from her between his arrival in the room (the dust swirling in) and the maids'.

What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead! I dare not go out, for I can hear the low howl of the wolf through the broken window.

vs

I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place. (8 May)

+

What shall I do? what can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful thing of night and gloom and fear? (24 June)

+

Suddenly it struck me that this might be the moment and means of my doom; I was to be given to the wolves, and at my own instigation. There was a diabolical wickedness in the idea great enough for the Count, and as a last chance I cried out:— "Shut the door; I shall wait till morning!" and covered my face with my hands to hide my tears of bitter disappointment. (29 June)

These are only a few of the lines that Lucy's quote reminds me of. This is the big one, there's so much to connect in it.

Like Jonathan, Lucy is alone with the dead. Dracula has sabotaged her only chance of reaching out to other people for aid (drugged maids = workers in the yard, people who saw Dracula dressed as Jonathan). She also feels duty-bound to stay by her mother's side, in a way which reminds me of Jonathan's feeling of obligation towards Mr. Hawkins (all the more as Mina's letter today emphasizes how familial their relationship has become). Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot see any options to escape from the living nightmare she is experiencing.

Like Jonathan, Lucy cannot leave because if she does, she fears a wolf will get her. (Much like Jonathan, she is earlier in her memorandum able to distinguish a wolf howl from a dog's, despite never hearing one before.) Even though she does not really expect to live through the night, she cannot make the choice to go out and face almost certain death. She's even recently seen the wolf kill a mother, to really drive the comparison with Jonathan's experiences home. (A contrast between the two is, of course, the mother he saw die was trying to rescue/avenge her dead child, but was too late. Mrs. Westenra seeks comfort from her daughter tonight, and as she dies unwittingly steals away Lucy's protection (garlic), thus holding true to her role of accidentally endangering her further.)

The air seems full of specks, floating and circling in the draught from the window, and the lights burn blue and dim. What am I to do? God shield me from harm this night! I shall hide this paper in my breast, where they shall find it when they come to lay me out. My dear mother gone! It is time that I go too. Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!

vs

Then I began to notice that there were some quaint little specks floating in the rays of the moonlight. They were like the tiniest grains of dust, and they whirled round and gathered in clusters in a nebulous sort of way. (24 June)

+

God help me in my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend and second father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina! (25 June)

(I've run out of new colors and am recycling. These aren't meant to match to the above instances of these colors.)

Like Jonathan described his experience being hypnotized by the vampire ladies, Lucy too sees Dracula's form as circling specks (twice, in fact, the other quote being above). The lights going blue and dim are also reminiscent of the various times Jonathan describes moonlight at the Castle. I especially think of just before he meets the vampire women, when he muses about the powers that modernity cannot defeat, and his modern lighting is contrasted to the moonlit room. Here, Lucy's modern lighting is going out as the supernatural invades her bedroom.

Lucy bids her final farewells to her mother and her fiance. In the quote I gave, Jonathan does the same for his father figure and his fiancee. Both of them invoke God for help. Both of them end their entries with this thinking of the one they love most. Jonathan of course does this multiple times, but I'm only quoting this one instance as it feels like the closest match overall.

And once again, we also see multiple comparisons beyond what I directly quoted. Lucy reiterates her expectation of death as in the quote at the top, and even chooses to hide her memorandum in her clothes, much as Jonathan hid his diary on his person at all times. (The difference being, he wanted to hide it from Dracula; she wants to ensure hers is seen by someone.)

[medra-gonbites]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion Head Canon Party Edition

Tav is throwing a party for their birthday. The playlist is ready, the neighbors are warned and the balloons are blown.

Here is what the companions (and three surprise party crashers) would bring to that little soirée.

Laezel | A strange liquor nobody has heard of

Impossible to know what it is, the label is written in a different alphabet. It has a crazy high alcohol percentage. Never mind it tastes like diesel: it's strong and if you want to get drunk it will get you there. Also it was crazy cheap so she bought 5 bottles (which she'll be the one drinking).

Gale | Some fancy ass bourbon

Nobody will drink it, because it is not that kind of night, Gale! He spends 19 minutes explaining to Tav why this vintage is special and what kind of smoky and woody hints they should get from the taste as well as an extensive story about where it was brewed (some place in the Highlands with blind dwarven monks no doubt).

Shadowheart | Wine 

It is a lower to mid quality bottle but she actually spends all evening drinking cocktails mostly composed of juice and vodka: she likes wine but it stains her teeth and gives her a headache, plus she really likes bright colors in her drinks. If there is Passoa and orange juice and the weather is nice she will be giving it a go. 

Wyll | Tequila

Alongside lemons and salt. The group complains because it’s just not something that gets drinken casually. However, they all end up taking shots around 3am and pass out and/or barf. Wyll is the only one who does not have a hangover the next day because he drinks water in between shots. Will make the cocktails if he is being asked nicely (he brought his shaker as well).

Karlach | Beer

She either comes with two 64-beer crates, one on each shoulder, or a keg (with a funnel and a pipe). She drinks most of these together with Wyll and burps loudly before shouting 'better in than out' and belly laugh herself to cramps. If the beers are canned, she will crush them on her forehead once they are downed. Ultimate beer pong winner.

Astarion | Shows up empty-handed

He feigns he didn't know or that he ran out of time to get something but he'll promise to bring something the next time (which is a lie as he already promised last time at Karlach’s costume party). He will leave with Gale’s expensive bourbon though and gift it to one his teacher from law school (in order to bribe them, of course).

Halsin |Juices

Not these industrial juice boxes mind you, but some organic 100% fruit, no added sugar juice from the bio coop. Or better yet he makes the juices himself - If the time of year is right he will make punch or sangria himself (and be careful it’s sweet but it is treacherous).

Minthara | Cocaïne

Nobody wants to do any. Frankly, Minthara did not read the audience  well. Astarion is willing but feels the vibe and decides not to (he takes her dealer's number for later though)). She ends up doing a line alone in the kitchen. At the height of the night when she's loaded and drunk she makes out with Gale or bullies him (or both).

Jaheira | Soda and ice

To be fair, all kinds of soda, and not just the generic crap either, the good brands. Bubbles no bubbles, fruity, bitter, sweet, you name it. She does not drink as she is the designated driver for her and Minsc (no way they're sleeping over with these kids) so she spends her night sipping on some ginger ale.

Minsc | Goblets

A lot of them. While it was disappointing at first it turns out to be a super sharp idea. Either to drink from or play beer pong they came in extremely handy. Halsin will pout and comment on the sustainability issue. Minsc drinks water but takes a new cup everytime he gets another drink (partly because he is proud of his goblet idea, partly to antagonize Halsin).

Durge | Flour

They are Tav's neighbour and they were invited out of politeness and actually showed up. They come with flour because “hey, remember when I borrowed some, years ago, there, I’m bringing it back like I said I would. We are even now”. They have the best jokes but they will try and start a fight over the playlist (they have issues with music it seems).

Here are a couple of party crashers who were not invited but came anyways.

Barcus | Airfryer and Snacks

He shows up very early to Tav's surprise. He was not exactly invited but thought he was due to Tav mentioning the party to him at work. Upon seeing him Tav is actually happy though and his glad he popped by. He brought his airfryer and some fried goods and that's just awesome.

Volo | His guitar

He was not invited and knew it but he shows up anyway. He will complain about the music the whole time while drinking wine and take his guitar to try and play wonderwall for everyone, even though nobody asked. Lae’zel will lock him on the balcony at some point during the night.

Gortash | Cheap Vodka

He was also not invited. He was told explicitly he was not but what can you do.... His shirt is way too open on his chest, he wears way too much cologne and his pockets are full of condoms. He tries to get into Shadowheart’s pants all night, refilling her glass constantly but he’ll end up at Durge's place next door.