#Not the one who might not be there tomorrow

[theorphicangel]

𝐃𝐞𝐛í 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐫 𝐦á𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐯𝐞

pairing : sukuna x gn!reader

word count: 2.5k

a/n: no synopsis because i feel like the title speaks for itself, enjoy.

tags: @sterzin @strachomir @moonlitwitchdaisy @baepsays

cw: angst, angst and more angst, ex bf! sukuna hates himself and self sabotages himself, modern au, sukuna is jin's twin brother and yuji's uncle, unckuna stans rise!!!!

Sukuna should have taken more photos of you. 

It’s a realisation that hits him when he’s scrolling through his feed, watching everyone and their fucking mother share the best moments from the past year. He grimaces to himself, evaluating over the past year and deciding it was completely shit. 

Nonetheless, he would never do some sentimental shit like that. It’s not his character and never will be. 

But instead, he wishes he had more photos of you. Not for others to see, only him. And maybe for his nephew Yuji when he asks. 

He won’t shut up about you everytime Sukuna visits and it takes everything within Sukuna to not break down right there and then. Instead he goes to take a breather, ignoring the heavy drop in his stomach at the mention of your name.

But Jin can tell he’s not doing well just by Sukuna’s frown and fidgeting hands. He overhears Sukuna telling Yuji an excuse about how busy you are. Last week was the excuse that you were out of town visiting your parents in the south. Now, he wonders how creative his excuse will be next week. Maybe you’re in another country entirely. 

No. Sukuna wouldn’t wish that. Ever. 

‘You do realise you’ll have to tell him someday?’ Jin murmurs. The kitchen is quiet, safe for the metal cutlery Sukuna is putting away whilst his brother cleans up. His hands are soapy and the water swishes side to side in the sink, threatening to spill but Jin never lets it happen. 

The dimmed lighting and the past scent of dinner remains, creating a soft glow over the Itadori brothers. Yuji’s already tucked into bed, an early bedtime for school tomorrow and Sukuna promised to drop him off the next morning.  But this current moment is slow and private — one of the rare times where Sukuna doesn’t have to put on an act for Yuji and pretend nothing has happened.

Sukuna hates his twin brother for many things like having shit taste in ice cream flavour but if he had to pick one thing, and one thing only to be mad about, it would be the fact that he knows him so well. 

(too well.)

Jin’s ability to read his mind without a word ever having to leave Sukuna’s mouth has existed since they were kids. 

Some might say it’s twin telepathy but Sukuna doesn’t believe in that shit.  There was this one instance where a kid had pushed over another kid in the playground, leaving the boy to cry away in the corner, too afraid to tell the teachers who had done it. Nothing needed to be said but Jin had a suspicious feeling as to who was responsible. 

‘You pushed him over Sukuna I know you did.’

‘You didn’t see me!’

‘But I can tell, by your face.’

Sukuna’s face frowns heavily, chubby cheeks turning red. He doesn’t reply. 

‘Own up to it, it’s the right thing to do.’ Jin murmurs. He isn’t angry but his voice is soft, which further frustrates Sukuna. He knows Jin never gets angry, no matter what. Even when he broke his favourite toy the other day. 

‘I didn’t do it.’

‘I know you did. You can’t lie to me.’

‘Or what?’ sukuna spat. 

‘Or I tell everyone you still wet the bed at the age of six and you know they’ll believe me because you’re my brother.’

Brother. 

Sukuna growls under his breath, kicking the gravel of the playground. Some kind of brother if you threaten your own twin by humiliation. To say the least Sukuna got his punishment: a letter written home to his dad and he was grounded for a week. 

Even now in the small kitchen where Yuji’s drawings hang on the fridge Sukuna feels the pressure from his twin. Jin’s always been the mature one out of the two. He always knows what to say, the right things to say in fact, which is what scares Sukuna the most. 

The atmosphere is still calm and quiet, so much so Sukuna can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, waiting for the words to leave from his brother’s lips. Another pause lingers over them, Sukuna now moving on to dry the plates before Jin finally speaks.

‘You have to tell him.’

There it is. 

Sukuna lets out a deep hum immediately knowing that he’s referring to Yuji. Jin lets out a sigh before continuing. He rinses off his soapy hands before drying them with a cloth.

‘You’ll run out of excuses one day and you will have to explain that they left. Not necessarily why, but let him know that…it’s the least you can do.’

Sukuna doesn’t look up, suddenly intrigued by drying the plates. They gleam under the light with the soap washing dish fragrant lingering on the fine china. 

Sukuna doesn’t speak for the next two minutes, letting his mind ponder over what to say next. Again, it’s the privacy and comfort of his brother’s home that allows Sukuna to be vulnerable. Within these four walls, no one else but Jin can see the true character of Sukuna. Outside of these walls, you were close to figuring him out too. 

‘I don’t wanna hurt him.’ Sukuna’s voice is soft, barely echoing within the walls of the kitchen. For the first time in what seems like forever, Sukuna’s soul is left bare and vulnerable. He feels pathetic and he knows he’s kidding himself  by making up excuses to Yuji. Perhaps it’s denial that you’ve left or the childish belief that if he keeps telling these lies then one of these days you will actually come back and prove him wrong. 

(you always did.)

‘You’re hurting him by not telling him.’ Jin speaks. There’s caution in his voice despite the softness. ‘The more you keep it away from him the more he’ll catch on. Yuji’s a smart kid, he’ll figure it out one way or another but he won’t necessarily catch onto the whole truth.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sukuna croaks. He finally looks at his brother, his stomach churning with anxiety as Jin’s words digest in his head.

‘I mean, if you don’t tell him the truth, Yuji will think that maybe they don’t want to see him anymore and that will hurt him more than your excuses.’

Sukuna’s shoulders drop. Once again, his brother was right. 

Jin’s words from their childhood rings in Sukuna’s mind. ‘It’s the right thing to do.’

He wants it all to stop. To take back time and reverse it, to reset everything that he’s done. All he seems to do is hurt people. First you and now Yuji, all his life he seems to cause nothing but pain; nothing he seems to do is right. 

‘You need to tell him Sukuna. Tomorrow.’ Jin warns, his glasses resting against the bridge of his nose. ‘It’ll break him by not telling him and it breaks you even more by keeping the truth from him. I can see it in your eyes everytime their name is mentioned, you might not think anyone notices but I do… and Yuji will realise it too one day.’

Sukuna says nothing more, hoping that the silence suddenly awakens and swallows him up whole. He continues to hope this as he finishes tidying away the dishes and it follows him as he slips on his shoes and leaves Jin’s house, the overwhelming sense of dread becoming his personal shadow in the winter cold on the way back to his own apartment. 

It fills every waking moment of his mind even as he lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep with Jin’s words echoing in his head. As a distraction he picks his phone up from the bedside table, heading straight to his photos app. 

There it is.

The album is titled with your name. It’s a whole collection of you. And only you. If he was ever in the photos he’d make sure to crop himself out, making you the highlight. 

He finds the first photo, right at the top of his camera roll. You had taken the photo accidentally when he gave you his phone to exchange numbers. 

The first time he met you. You were evidently nervous and barely able to make eye contact with a guy like him. Sukuna admits his persona is scary to those who don’t know him as well viewing his resting face as frustration or anger. You grew to learn that it was just him simply being…him. He scrolls. 

The first date he ever took you on. yeah, it wasn’t the best restaurant in the whole city but the dessert you ate that night soon became your all time favourite. Sukuna hasn’t been able to eat there again since you left him. He scrolls. 

The first time you had argued. It was petty, the reasoning behind that disagreement was something that he can’t even remember. It was miniscule but nonetheless he had snapped at you and you regressed, giving him nothing but silence in return. Since then you made clear boundaries with him and he didn’t raise his voice at you again. The photo is blurry, accidentally taken but your face can still be seen. You’re upset and he doesn’t like that but it’s a reminder for him to do better. Or at least it was. This would be just one of the many times that he’s made you feel that way.  He scrolls. 

There’s more as he scrolls. The two of you at an arcade… you in his car on a late night drive…the two of you getting drunk on your couch like losers… you cooking for him when he was ill… and Sukuna hesitates on a specific photo of and a pic of you and yuji. From the first day that you met him and Jin. You held a book in your lap with Yuji by your side, Sukuna kept smirking on how Yuji kept looking at you rather than the story. 

He continues to scroll. 

Your first time at the beach together. The way his eyes kept glancing at you in your swimwear, a light blush appearing across his cheeks. There’s multiple photos from that day: ones where the sun highlights your smile, making your skin glow. There’s more ones where you’re not looking deeply invested in building the perfect sandcastle. Photos of you getting ice cream on your nose, sand all over your hands with sun kissed lips. Lips that he kissed again. 

The first time you slept over, your body next to his. Your eyes are closed, mouth agape as you snore away on his chest. He remembers that night more vividly than any other night, the way that your soft body fits perfectly against his own. Sukuna never thought he’d let anyone within his proximity let alone sleep on his chest. The next morning he remembers you having marks on your cheeks, evidence that you had a good night’s sleep. Sukuna also remembers sleeping really well that night, for the first time in forever. 

Sukuna also took a video of you sleeping, originally taken just to make fun of your snoring. You begged him to delete it but the video of that is still on his phone, along with the hundreds of photos of you in his camera roll that he hasn’t bothered to delete. Yet. ( or ever)

He should have taken more photos of you. 

But even more than that, he should have kissed you and hugged you more. Sure Sukuna wasn’t the pda type but even so, you shouldn’t have to beg for his attention or private affection. There were times he pulled away or hesitated on showing you any type of physical affection. He hesitated with those three little words, he was terrible at picking out gifts and he sometimes forgot to reply to your texts and calls but he still tried. 

It was a conflicting issue. You tried to get him to open up and be comfortable with you, taking small steps with him. And over time you were close, so, so, so close to witnessing that vulnerable side of him…until he pushed you away. Like he does with everyone else in his life when he feels scared. When he feels out of control. You were affecting him in ways he couldn’t explain. If he wasn’t with you then he was constantly thinking of you; anxiety taking over his body at the thought of messing up or making you upset. Things were good. Too good to be true or to last long enough for Sukuna.  

Something was inevitably going to go wrong. 

Sukuna just made it happen prematurely. 

Sukuna ends up scrolling to the last photo he ever took of you. He thinks about the last night that you stayed over and the last photo he ever took of you. Right before everything went to shit and he pushed you away. It was a quiet night in, he had you laid across his chest with your favourite show playing in the background, he doesn’t ever remember you finishing the episode. You fell asleep halfway through, breaking your promise in finishing the second season. 

Sukuna studies you, eyes squinting. You snore lightly on his chest, your lips parted. Your face was peaceful and the happiest he’d ever seen you despite being asleep.

 What kind of person did that make him? Taking that happiness away from you? He was meant to grow old with you for fuck’s sake. You were the only person he had pictured by his side in the future, save for Jin and Yuji of course. This was so foreign to Sukuna like he was a tourist to his own feelings, unable to comprehend what was happening. And because of that he got scared and fucked it up. Like a coward.

(That was one of the words you spat at him. He couldn’t be mad at you because it was true.)

Glancing at you in his arms, he positions the phone by your face, careful not to awaken you as he takes a picture. ‘Cute’ he thinks, ‘so fucking cute.’ His chest fills with a warmth that only you have made familiar to him. But almost immediately, the fear returns again. 

 How long until his life begins to fall apart again? Before he fucks up again or before the universe decides to take you away from him? That anticipation wasn’t something that he could live with. It’s selfish but he can’t do it. Everything seems to be too good, life suddenly treating him well. But does he deserve it? Does he deserve you? He keeps his thoughts to himself, instead taking the next two days to distance himself from you which makes things worse, sparking an argument where he says things he won’t be able to take back. 

Now he lays alone. 

Made to rest with regrets he’ll have for the rest of his life. He reaches the end of the album, the last photo being you sleeping on his chest. He only took one. Never the sentimental type he told himself but now he thinks those are the photos he’ll look back on when he’s old and alone, drowning in his vast sea of regret. (Maybe he’ll turn out like his dad after all.) 

Yeah….

Sukuna should have taken more photos of you.

thank you so much for reading! comments and reblogs are much appreciated <333

[privateanxieties]

for anyone curious, the 'democrat' hashtag was suppressed on instagram today, for most of the day. the 'republican' one works and has been working just fine, but they suppressed 'democrat' for "sensitive content". Same for 'voteblue' and a few similar ones.

they're now back to "normal", but why did they get suppressed in the first place? what were they trying to purge?

this is how it starts.

I urge everyone to be more critical than ever of everything they see online. get informed. learn how to tweak all the settings of every device you can, for both privacy and content filtering. install browser extensions. do whatever you can to rely on these platforms as little as possible. it's also a good time to look into alternative search engines.

it's possible they're right now trying to see what they can get away with, what people don't notice, what they don't speak out against, and implementing those measures. it's possible they're not going full speed ahead, just treading lightly for now.

Do not let them take an inch. Keep your eyes opened for this kind of subterfuge, report, tell others.

Also, print out and keep PHYSICALLY, in your home, life-saving information. Medical info, maps, addresses, phone numbers, precious and sentimental info, etcetera. Print out your rights. Print out everything you might need at a crucial moment that you'd normally use google for, because they are not your friend.

Get a hold of books that have been banned and are on the chopping block next. Have them physically. Download music. Keep it on your own drive. No cloud services.

And for those who think I'm exaggerating, how fucked would you be if tomorrow you couldn't access any info online? Yeah. That's how prepared you need to be.

now that trump has tiktok, twitter, facebook and insta in his pocket, get ready for a massive wave of internet censorship. one of trump's greatest weapons has always been misinformation; it's going to become harder and harder to spread facts and criticism going forward. posts that aren't made invisible will be magically ignored by the algorithm. dissidents will have their accounts deleted and voices erased.

this is a suppression tactic. this is another stage of fascism.

[glossdebut]

everything i want (a take a bite drabble collection) | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader (TAB!couple)

✧ GENRE: established relationship, fluff, smut, humor

✧ REQUEST: @joonary: hello my dear friend i am here to request something with dilf yoongi 😁 no other specifications go crazy and @beomcoups: I wanted to send you a request with Yoongi and you spend the day at the beach with this prompt "isn't that view beautiful"? It can be sfw or nsfw.

✧ SUMMARY: The best part of being with Yoongi, from the very beginning, was that nothing had to change for either of you. You could be married to Yoongi and to your job at the same time, build your career from the ground up and never sacrifice a thing. But this? Having a baby? It’s all going to be sacrifice. It won’t be just you and Yoongi anymore, living in your precious little workaholic love bubble. Everything is going to change.

✧ TAGS: pregnancy, different stages of pregnancy (conception, morning sickness, early labor, etc.), the smut is crazy but this is mostly soft, TAB!couple are in complete domestic bliss i fear, and they’re married!, yoongi and MC being each other’s voices of reason, TAB!yoongi’s murderous inner monologues make a comeback, rina cameo, baby penny <3, beach episode moment (warnings under the cut because… um…)

✧ WORDCOUNT: 7.6k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: blame MJ for this. and my m’lady anon for saying i’m always ovulating. *taps mic* min yoongi my womb is empty please call me.

P.S. thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for beta reading <3

P.P.S. i feel like this can maybe stand alone??? but parts of it might be confusing if you haven’t read take a bite in its entirety, so… do that, if you want!

✧ WARNINGS: vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, spanking, nipple play, hand/finger kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yoongi calls reader a sl*t in bed but it is all extremely consensual, rough sex, unprotected sex (duh) (but wrap it before you tap it), creampie (double duh)

one —

Yoongi’s being a real good sport about it, but you know you’re being annoying.

Ever since both of you got home, you just… There are things that need to be done, okay? Like unloading the dishwasher. You can’t just leave that for tomorrow, that would be insane. And since you’re unloading the dishwasher, you might as well organize the kitchen cabinets. They’re a mess, and you’re putting away dishes anyway. Why postpone the inevitable?

And Pepper! Sweet, sweet Pepper. She needs to be fed, obviously. You’re not going to neglect your cat, are you? Your cat who has nobody else in the whole world aside from you and Yoongi? The two of you are responsible for a whole life—feline life! Feline life. 

This doesn’t have anything to do with what Yoongi’s eomma said tonight. Absolutely not. 

You are a grown woman. An award winning music journalist with a kickass career and a super hot, famous, rich man by your side. You’re not going to let Yoongi’s eomma get under your skin. You’re just fidgety. Who wouldn’t be after dinner with the in-laws?

You pause mid-kibble pour, staring down at the sparkly, significant thing wrapped around your finger. It’s been over a year, and sometimes you still can’t believe it’s true. Married. Husband and wife. Mr. and Mrs. Min.

The thought makes you relax, just a little. Yoongi is your better half in every sense. Your soulmate. And more than that, he has your back. There’s no reason why you can’t just tell him what you’ve been thinking. What you’ve been thinking for a long time now, really. 

As if he can read your mind, your husband sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you as you finish feeding the cat. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he murmurs against the back of your neck.

“No,” you huff, turning in his hold to loop your arms around his neck. “But I think we have to.”

Yoongi hums, dipping down to kiss you softly. “Okay. Let’s talk about it, then.”

With a sigh, you peel yourself away from your husband and head to the couch. This feels like a sitting down conversation. Yoongi sits next to you, pulling you into his body, your head on his shoulder.

“Y/N… You know it’s not a dealbreaker, right? Kids. You know that.”

Tilting your head up, you study his features.

Yoongi is usually so unshakeable. It’s rare that you see him truly nervous, not when it comes to you. Your relationship is so solid, you can’t remember the last time you saw him like this.

“Yoongi, of course I know that,” you assure him immediately, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.

The two of you had the marriage-and-kids conversation not long after you moved in together. It was the logical thing to do, with how serious things were getting. The marriage part of the conversation was easy. Yeah, duh, you wanted to marry Min Yoongi one day. No shit. 

The kids part, though? That was a little harder. At least for you.

You didn’t know if you wanted kids. The cons far outweighed the pros, especially where your work schedules were concerned, and at the time, you weren’t sure if that would ever change.

Yoongi was amenable about it, though. He wanted what you wanted. Kids, no kids, whatever. You’re pretty sure those were his exact words.

“I’m not freaking out because I think you’re gonna, like, leave me or something.”

“Okay,” he says, visibly relaxing. “Then why are you freaking out?”

“I don’t know!” you groan, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“Baby,” he huffs. “This is our decision, not my eomma’s. Nothing’s changed.”

That’s the thing. That’s why you’re so restless.

“Maybe…” Fuck, you can’t sit still for this. So you stand, hoping you can force the words out if you’re pacing. “Maybe things have changed.”

It would be funny, the way Yoongi’s mouth pops open in a little ‘o’, if you didn’t feel like you were about to throw up.

“I just—” You rub your hands over your face, exasperated. And then you’re stopping in front of him, jabbing your finger at his chest. “You’re really annoying, you know. Paternal. Every time I have to watch you play with your brother’s kid I really want to smack you.”

“Paternal?” Yoongi snorts. His hands catch yours, interlaced fingers pulling you to stand between his open legs.

“Paternal,” you sniff. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Of course, that only makes it worse. He looks so fond, even though you feel more and more like you’re dying as you speak. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“You mean how long has this been plaguing me?” you grumble, earning a laugh from him.

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi says as he looks up at you expectantly.

You look down at your joined hands, swinging them back and forth so the warm lamplight catches on your rings. “Since we got married, I guess.”

Yoongi squeezes your hands to catch your attention, quirking an eyebrow at you when you glance up. “That long?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure,” you mumble as your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“You’re telling me now,” he points out. He sounds a little unsteady, like he’s feeling just as jittery as you are, now that it’s all out in the open.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I am.”

“You want a baby?”

You nod, bottom lip catching between your teeth. “I want a baby.”

Before you have a chance to react, Yoongi sits up, pulling you into a kiss with a hand on the back of your neck. Almost as soon as you melt into it, clambering into his lap as your lips slot with his, he’s pulling away. 

“With me, right?” he teases, squawking indignantly when you pinch his sides in retaliation. “Yah, I’m just making sure!”

“Yes with you, asshole!”

two —

You feel a little stupid.

Maybe it’s because you don’t know how to act now. Nobody told you that planning to have a baby would suddenly put so much pressure on sex, but now here you are, standing in the kitchen in a too-tight dress while you try not to burn dinner.

You never cook. That’s Yoongi’s job. But you don’t know what else to do with all this restless energy, don’t know how else to initiate the ‘okay, I’m ready, knock me up’ conversation.

You’ve talked about the important things. You’ve dealt with the birth control issue. You’re taking, like, vitamins and shit now. All that’s left is to… actually try, right?

Except you’re nervous as hell, have been since you woke up to the notification from your cycle tracker informing you that you’re in your fucking ‘fertile window’ (ew!), and you’re suddenly acting like someone you don’t even recognize. Christ, you wonder if Yoongi has been feeling like this, too.

Speaking of Yoongi… He isn’t home yet, and for a moment, you think it’s not too late to just get rid of all of the evidence. Do away with the self-imposed theatrics, order some takeout, and act like it’s just another night. It’s not like Yoongi would mind.

But you’ve already committed to these stupid fucking steaks. And candles. There are candles.

It is too late, anyway. Almost as soon as the thought begins to form in your brain, you hear the sound of keys jangling and a lock turning, and then your future sperm donor himself is slipping his shoes off at the front door.

At least, he’s trying to. He’s got one socked foot out, frozen in his tracks as he takes in the scene before him.

“Did I forget an anniversary?”

You scoff, eyes rolling despite the nausea building inside you. “As if you’ve ever forgotten anything in your life.”

“Point made.”  He kicks his shoes off the rest of the way, nodding his head in the direction of the candles on the table. “Wanna tell me what this is for, then?”

You shrug, poking at the steak sizzling in front of you with a pair of tongs. “I wanted to make you dinner.”

“You don’t do that,” he says, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Well, I felt like it tonight,” you huff in exasperation.

“Okay,” he says, rounding the counter. His eyes rake over your form shamelessly, now that he can see all of you. “And the dress?”

“A girl can’t dress up every now and then?”

“Hey,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. “Not complaining, believe me. Just curious.”

You know you’re being a little bit testy. Evasive. But it’s not your fault. Is there a good way to say ‘I did all of this because I want you to cum inside me tonight’? If there is, you haven’t found it.

Instead, you settle on, “I just felt like it.”

Yoongi hums, sliding behind you so he can wrap his arms around your middle. “Just felt like it, huh?” he mumbles. You can feel his lips on the back of your neck, and it’s dizzying how quickly your body reacts to his proximity. “No ulterior motives?”

“Nope,” you say. It sounds like bullshit, even to you. But how are you supposed to spin a convincing lie when your husband’s hands are on you? Hands that slide from hips to waist to tits as his mouth grows insistent at your nape, making you shiver.

“Shame,” he murmurs, nosing at the curve of your neck until his lips reach the shell of your ear. “I was hoping you wanted me to fuck a baby into you.”

“Fuck,” you breathe. Your legs are already growing wobbly beneath you, and he hasn’t even touched you. It’s pathetic, the way anxiety gives way to anticipation so easily.

Smoothly, Yoongi reaches in front of you to turn off the stove. It’s probably best that you skip dinner, anyway. Those steaks were going to be shit and you both know it.

You’re guided away from the stove, spun around so the small of your back is pressed against the kitchen counter. The room seems to shrink around you with the way you’re pinned under Yoongi’s gaze.

He kisses you, slow and deliberate, your legs growing even weaker at the way his lips slide against yours. You get lost in it for a moment, reveling in the way his body molds to yours as his tongue teases at the seam of your lips. But then he pulls away.

“Why don’t you tell me the truth?” His hands slide down your body to knead your ass roughly, causing the hem of your dress to ride up. “What does my girl want, hm?”

“Yoongi,” you whine, desperate as you reach down to palm him through his jeans.

“Nuh-uh,” he chastises, voice laced with amusement. He grabs hold of your wrist, bringing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss against your skin. “You’ve just gotta ask, beautiful. You know I’ll give you what you need. I’m not a mind reader, though.”

Annoying. Also patently untrue, but whatever. The point of all of this—the dress, the candles, the dinner attempt—was that you wouldn’t have to say it. But of course, Yoongi never makes things easy for you.

“You already know, though,” you huff. “Don’t be mean.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh, fingers skating teasingly along the hem of your dress. “Okay, baby,” he concedes. “I’ll be nice.”

And then his hand slips under your dress, only to find that you’ve foregone panties for the night. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re gonna kill me.”

The anticipation of the day has left you dripping for him, the pads of his fingers sliding along your cunt with ease. You gasp when he thrusts two digits into you, moan when they curl against your front wall, the sensation sending you climbing up the counter.

“This?” he murmurs against your lips. “This is what you want?”

Suddenly, all of your anxiety from the day washes away. It’s stupid, you realize, to be so scared of just telling him everything you want. He loves when you tell him what you want, loves to be the one to fulfil every single one of your wishes. And right now, while your husband’s fingers fuck into your pussy in the middle of your kitchen, all you want is—

“Fuck me. Please, Yoongi. Need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he growls. “Why?”

“B-because,” you whimper, cheeks flushing as you finally say the words. “W-wanna make a baby with you, wan’ you to give me a baby.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses, nipping at your jaw. The pace of his fingers is slow and steady as heat crawls up your spine. You cry out when his thumb begins to circle your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head at the sensation. “There’s my good girl. I’ll give you what you need, baby, I promise. Just cum for me first.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re so fucking wound up, and his fingers feel so good pumping in and out of you, it was only a matter of time before you unraveled for him. 

Wetness gushes around Yoongi’s fingers, the filthy squelch of his ministrations filling your ears. You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed by it. Not when you’re this close. Before you know it, your orgasm is washing over you, leaving you clenching helplessly around his fingers as he mumbles praise into your neck.

“Shit,” you breathe.

Gently, Yoongi withdraws his fingers. “Feel good?”

With a giggle, you nod, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Mm. We really need to stop using our kitchen for non-kitchen related activities, though.”

“Nah,” he chuckles. “Where’s the fun in that?”

As you catch your breath, you start to feel antsy due to the silence that settles between you two. Everything’s out in the open now, isn’t it?

As if he can sense the shift in your energy, Yoongi presses his forehead against yours, rubbing his hand down your back. “You’re in your head again.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, pouting.

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi murmurs softly. “Just tell me what's wrong.”

You take a shaky breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Better out than in, you suppose.

“I just… There’s all this pressure now that we’re trying to have a baby. I guess I’m just worried we’re not… doing this right.”

“Right?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Like… It’s a big deal, isn’t it?” you say, glancing at your forgotten steaks further down on the counter. “Shouldn’t we treat it like one?”

Yoongi pulls back, eyes widening in understanding. “So… The dress and the dinner.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, and you can’t help but squirm as he studies you for a moment. You desperately wish you knew what he was thinking, but you know Yoongi. He chooses his words carefully, always.

“Do you want to do things differently?” he finally asks.

Huh.

“What?”

Yoongi grins, chuckling as he reaches to intertwine your fingers with his. “Y/N,” he starts, squeezing your hand. “You are the woman of my dreams. It doesn’t matter when or where or how it happens, our baby is going to be made with love no matter what.”

Your heart pangs at that, lips twisting in a contemplative frown as you consider his words. Damn him for making so much fucking sense all the time.

“If you want to do the dinner and the candles and the rose petals and everything else, we can do that,” Yoongi says, pausing to kiss your nose. “I’ll take my time, fuck you nice and slow. Anything you want.

“But I don’t want you to feel nervous about this,” he murmurs, pressing more kisses into your skin until he’s nosing the underside of your jaw. “I could bend you over this counter and fuck you right here, and we’d still be doing things right, as long as it feels right to you.”

Yoongi’s right. You’ve been building up all of these unrealistic expectations for how this night should go, and for no reason. The anxiety that had built a home in the pit of your stomach gives way to something hotter, your eyes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, tangling your fingers in his hair as he mouths at your neck. “I don’t want anything to change.” 

“Quit apologizing,” he chastises with a bite to your skin that makes you gasp. “You know what you want. Always so good at telling me, too. So tell me.”

Here goes nothing.

“I want you to take off my dress,” you breathe. It feels like a good place to start. 

Tongue darting out to lick his lips, Yoongi’s gaze roves over your body. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Bedroom? Or here?”

“Bedroom,” you say, gently pushing him out of your space so you can hop off the counter. 

You barely get a chance to steady yourself before Yoongi’s grabbing hold of your hand. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness as he drags you out of the kitchen, pausing only to blow out the candles you’d lit earlier.

Once he gets you to the bedroom, Yoongi spins you around so you’re facing away from him. You feel the evidence of his arousal against the curve of your ass as he slowly unzips your dress.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the back of your neck as your dress drops and pools at your feet. His hands roam over your body, squeezing and caressing everywhere he can reach. “How did I get so lucky, hm?”

Turning in his hold, you loop your arms around his neck with a cheeky smile, your naked form pressed against his clothed one. “Through a mutual disdain for square dancing, if I recall correctly.”

Yoongi laughs at that, gummy smile in full force even as he shamelessly fondles your breasts. “You don’t recall correctly,” he teases. “I had to put in a lot of work after that to actually get you, remember?”

How far you’ve both come since then. No more tortured longing. No more misunderstandings. No more fear of taking the leap. All that remains between you now is love. Plain and simple. 

“You had me from day one,” you insist, fondness swelling in your chest. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

It’s so gratifying, witnessing the way you can still fluster your husband after all this time. With pink cheeks, Yoongi ducks his head, attempting to hide a shy smile. “Aw,” he coos, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you love me or something?”

Snorting, you bite back a grin. “I do. Very much. And you love me.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. An errant squeeze to your ass, as casual as it may be, reminds you of where you are. Heat floods you all over again, a delicious shiver wracking your body at the reminder of what you’re about to do. As head over heels as you may be for Yoongi, you’d really like to get his cock inside you sometime this year. 

You catch his gaze, raising a challenging eyebrow at him.

“But you can fuck me like you don’t,” you offer. 

In an instant, the softness in Yoongi’s eyes shifts into something else entirely. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his grip on your ass tightening.

“You’re sure?” he asks, voice so low and gravelly that your cunt clenches in response. You know him well enough to know that he’s giving you one last out, that his control is likely hanging by a thread.

But fuck, you want it. Want to be fucked within an inch of your life, because who knows the next opportunity you’ll have to get it like that once you’re with child?

“I can handle it.”

Yoongi scans your features for a moment, taking in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. The way your body responds to him without a second thought, willing to take anything he wants to give you. If he’s looking for uncertainty, he isn’t going to find any. Not anymore. 

He must be satisfied with what he finds, because before you can react, you’re suddenly on your back, gasping as you’re enveloped in memory foam.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Yoongi says, his hands on your knees roughly guiding your legs to part nice and wide so he can settle between them. “Show me that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper, fingers instinctively threading into his hair. It’s getting so long lately, so pullable. You might kill him if he tries to cut it anytime soon. “Want your cock, you don’t have to—“

Your pleas are effectively halted when Yoongi spreads your folds with his thumbs, looking up at you with eyes that are all pupil. “You’re this wet for me, and you think I’m not gonna get my mouth on you?” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, surging forward to lick a broad stripe over your pussy. You cry out, back arching and hips kicking off the bed when his tongue flicks against your oversensitive clit.

“Fucking dripping,” Yoongi groans appreciatively. “Holy shit, Y/N.”

The whine that escapes you is pathetic, embarrassment and arousal warring inside you as you rock your hips forward. Luckily, Yoongi gets the hint, dipping down again to swirl his tongue over you.

It’s filthy and loud, the way he sucks and slurps at your pussy like he’s starving for it, can’t get enough. It doesn’t take long before your second orgasm is barreling towards you, thighs trembling on either side of his head as you squirm under him.

“Yoongi, fuck,” you mewl as he laves over your aching cunt, tugging hard at the strands of dark hair caught between your fingers to keep him from pulling away. “I’m gonna cum, like, any second.”

Yoongi hums, tongue lashing at your clit at a pace that almost drives you up the bed. Everything feels so fucking good, so overwhelming, that you can’t hold back any longer. 

You cum hard, a litany of curses and moans falling from your lips as Yoongi works you through it, only letting up when your hands push weakly at his head.

“You’re so worked up, baby,” he teases, although the way he palms himself through his jeans as he climbs over you tells you he’s just as turned on as you are. “You want my cum that bad?”

Your pussy flutters at his words, silently begging to be filled. Fuck. It doesn’t surprise you that your husband knows how to read your body this well, knows exactly how to push all of your buttons, but it still drives you crazy all the same.

“You’re worked up, too,” you huff as you snake your hand under his, feeling the way his erection strains against his jeans. He’s so fucking hard.

“Of course I am,” he agrees, chuckling at your impatience. He pulls his shirt over his head as he speaks, moving to deal with his jeans next. “I’ve got my girl cumming so easily for me, begging for my cock. Why wouldn’t I be worked up?”

“Then fucking do something about it,” you whine, mouth watering when his cock springs free in front of you. You need him inside you yesterday.

In a flash, you’re flipped over roughly so you’re flat on your stomach. 

“So fucking impatient,” Yoongi growls, delivering a sharp slap to your ass that makes you moan.

You feel the heat of his hand dip between your thighs, fingers sliding over your slippery folds, and you can’t help but push your ass back against his touch, knees spreading as wide as they’ll go.

“Look at you. You’re desperate for it.” He sounds almost amazed. You whimper when he slides his fingers from your core, replacing them with the blunt head of his cock. “Well since you wanna act like a slut, I guess I have to fuck you like one, hm?”

Yes. Fucking. Please.

“Please,” you breathe, arching your back prettily for him, wiggling your hips in a way that makes him hiss. “Want it, please.”

Yoongi teases you for a moment, rubbing his tip through your soaked folds, but then the warmth of his body disappears from behind you. “Nah. I changed my mind,” he finally says, smacking your ass once more. “Turn over. I wanna see your face when I cum inside this pussy.”

Oh.

You’ve never moved so fucking fast in your life. Within seconds you’re on your back, and Yoongi doesn’t waste any time either, slotting his body between your legs with ease. You both moan when he finally slides into you, one of his hands coming up to cradle your face.

Yoongi’s always been so patient, much more patient than you. He gives you time to adjust to the stretch of him, his thumb sweetly caressing your cheek as you look into each other's eyes.

But that’s pretty much all the grace you get.

Once he’s sure you’re ready, the first snap of his hips has you reeling, your eyes rolling back in your head. And then he’s fucking you for real, setting a pace that has you crying out his name.

“Fuckin’ love being inside you,” he grunts, his eyes fixed on where your bodies meet so he can watch the way his cock slides in and out of you. “Pussy was made for me, wasn’t it, baby?”

You don’t think you could speak if you tried, too high on the feeling of Yoongi’s cock hitting that place inside you that makes you see stars. Instead, you turn your head, craning your neck until you can get the thumb that was rubbing your cheek into your mouth.

You love Yoongi’s hands. Love how strong and capable they are, love how gentle they can be even when he’s fucking you this hard. You could live and die with Yoongi’s fingers in your mouth and you’d be a happy, happy woman.

Yoongi groans, his thrusts growing rougher as you wrap your lips around his thumb and suck. “There’s my good girl,” he praises. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.”

You preen at the praise, looking up at him through your lashes as you moan around the digit. But then Yoongi’s using his free hand to hitch your leg around his hip, driving his cock even deeper into you somehow, and you’re pulling off of his thumb with a sob.

“Yoongi! F-fuck, it’s too much—”

“You begged for this,” he growls. His thumb, slick with your spit, travels down to circle a nipple, your breath getting caught in your throat when he adds his forefinger and pinches. “You said you could handle it. So take it.”

He keeps fucking into you, rough and relentless, and even though you’ve been reduced to a sobbing mess, it feels so fucking good. So you do what he says and take what he’s giving you.

Satisfied, Yoongi dips down to lave his tongue over your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth as your hands fly to grasp at his hair.

“Nnnghh, Y-yoongi,” you moan. “Feels so g-good.”

With one final flick of his tongue against your breast, he comes back up to kiss you, his mouth moving against yours with an urgency that takes your breath away.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, pressing his forehead against yours. His hands come up to cradle your face again, wiping errant tears from your cheeks. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you sob, using the much-needed reprieve to catch your breath.

“Taking me so good,” he breathes, thrusts growing erratic as he pants against your mouth. “Can’t wait to give you a baby.”

You moan, clenching around him in response. “Need you to cum,” you pant, delirious. “Please, Yoongi, wan’ you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes squeezing shut as if he’s pained. “‘M gonna. Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Do me a favor and rub your clit for me, m’kay my love?”

You do as you’re told, slipping a hand between your sweaty bodies. It’s not going to take much at this point, not with how desperate he looks above you. He’s a fucking sight for sore eyes, lips bitten and pupils blown as he tracks the movement of your hand.

“Shit, you’re so sexy,” he groans. “Gonna cum.”

You’re right there with him, both of you moving in perfect synchrony as you chase your release. All it takes is a few passes of your fingers over your clit before your vision goes white, a sob escaping your throat as you feel Yoongi spill into you with a groan.

You cling to him, arms wrapped around his neck as he presses sloppy kisses to your naked shoulder. “God,” you breathe, thighs shaking when you stretch your legs out.

You both gasp for breath, skin sticking together from the sweat that’s been created between you.

“Yoongi?” you mumble. He hums, lifting his head to look down at you. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks, brows furrowing in confusion. Then, he grins tiredly. “For giving you the creampie of the century?”

“Ew,” you huff, flicking his forehead weakly. “No, idiot. For getting me out of my head.”

You know he knows what you mean. That’s what you do for each other. Yoongi knows how to calm you down like no one else, and you know you do the same for him. It’s a perfect give and take. 

“I don’t know if this will be… If this is the time that’s gonna give us a baby,” you continue, lips twisting as your eyes water slightly. “But I can’t imagine a better man to be the father of my child. I just want you to know that.”

Yoongi softens, taking in your words. Wordlessly, he dips down, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you tenderly.

“You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,” he says, his voice gentle. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

The two of you lay there for a long time, bodies tangled together as you process everything that just happened. What it means for both of you.

The best part of being with Yoongi, from the very beginning, was that nothing had to change for either of you. You could be married to Yoongi and to your job at the same time, build your career from the ground up and never sacrifice a thing.

But this? Having a baby? It’s all going to be sacrifice. It won’t be just you and Yoongi anymore, living in your precious little workaholic love bubble. Everything is going to change. 

Funnily enough, nothing has ever felt more right.

three —

It stands to reason that you find out that you’re pregnant in the office of Look Here Magazine. Where else?

You had your suspicions this morning, when you rolled out of bed nauseous as hell. But you also had an important interview scheduled for this afternoon—surely, you were just anxious about that. But the interview went great, and you still felt like shit afterwards. 

And then you got sick. Like, really sick. In the bathroom of the store you’d stopped at to grab some ginger ale, hoping that would help with the nausea.

Instead of ginger ale, though, you watched with no small amount of shame as the clerk at the register rang up a pregnancy test for you, eyeing you with thinly veiled judgement. Whatever. Jealous bitch needs to get laid.

So here you are, locked in the single stall restroom at your office, staring down at two pink lines. Fuck.

You’re shaking like a leaf. You’re fucking giddy, of course you are, but holy shit. It’s real now. It’s real, and you’re at work, and Yoongi is at his studio, and all you want to do is call him and tell him the news. Because you’re overjoyed, but you’re also terrified, and when you get like this, he’s the only one who can make you feel better.

But you can’t. You don’t want to tell him over the phone. You want to see his reaction in real time, see the gummy smile you love so much, feel his warmth when he pulls you into his arms, kiss him stupid.

So instead, you pick your phone up with trembling hands and snap a picture, sending it straight to Rina. 

It’s five in the morning in Athens. You know she won’t see it for another few hours. But it still calms you down enough to clean up and exit the bathroom, returning to your desk on shaky legs.

★ ★ ★

You can’t wait, as it turns out.

It’s seven in the evening. You got off of work less than thirty minutes ago, and you’re already all the way across town, riding in an ostentatiously large elevator to get to your husband’s swanky ass studio. You definitely broke several traffic laws to get here so fast, but you don’t care. Who knows when Yoongi will get home? You need to tell him now.

When the elevator doors slide open, allowing you to step foot onto Yoongi’s floor, you start to feel sick again. For a different reason this time. 

You know Yoongi’s going to be just as psyched as you are, but still, what if he’s not? What if he’s scared shitless and all of a sudden he changes his mind about this? You both wanted a baby, but it sure as shit feels completely different now that it’s real.

You don’t know what you’re going to do if he has a change of heart. Fuck. Flee the country, probably.

You put one foot in front of the other, following the familiar path to Yoongi’s studio. Your heart races as you punch in the code you know by heart, gut twisting as the whir of the lock fills your ears. And then you’re stepping inside, slipping your shoes off at the door with the expression of a sighted rabbit on your face.

Yoongi spins around in his chair, eyes widening at your unexpected presence. “Hey,” he greets, visibly puzzled as he gets up to pull you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Hey,” you breathe, heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But still, it feels nice to be in his arms after the day you’ve had. “I didn’t know I was. Sorry if I’m interrupting.”

“Nah, don’t apologize. I need a break anyway,” he says, pulling away to study your face. “Everything okay?”

“Um!” you squeak out, grabbing his hands to pull him towards the couch in the corner of his studio, sinking down on the worn leather. You stare down at the material beneath you. He really needs to replace this thing. “Yes? I think so. I hope so.”

“You’re scaring the piss out of me, Y/N,” he huffs, settling down next to you. Gently, his fingers grasp your chin, lifting your head so you’re looking straight at him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Swallowing thickly, you shift your bag into your lap, digging around in it for a moment until you can procure what you need. Shakily, you hold out two positive pregnancy tests for him to see. God, pregnancy is so gross. You’re holding pee sticks in your hand.

“I’m, um…”

“You’re pregnant,” Yoongi breathes, eyes widening in amazement as he stares at the little lines. Tearing his eyes away, he gapes at you. “You’re pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”

“I think so,” you say, chewing at your bottom lip nervously.

“Shit,” he says, grinning so wide you can’t help but return it. “We’re going to be parents!”

Before you know it, tears are streaming down your face, even as you laugh in disbelief along with him. You never should’ve doubted him, not even for a second.

“We’re going to be parents,” you sob, still clutching the positive tests in your hand as you speak through your tears. “Can I put these down? It’s so gross. I peed on these.”

Laughing, Yoongi takes the tests from your hand and sets them aside, pulling you into his lap so he can kiss you silly. “Fuck,” he murmurs, breaking away with a sniffle. “I’m so happy.”

Fuck. He can’t do that. He can’t cry, too. You don’t think you can take it.

“Me too,” you say, wiping at your eyes. Then you smack his shoulder, sniffling yourself. “You can’t cry, stupid. You’re supposed to be the strong one.”

Another laugh bubbles up from his throat, nothing but fondness and joy in his watery eyes. “I think for the next nine months, you’re one hundred percent going to be the strong one,” he says, staring down at your belly with awe.

It’s crazy. There’s nothing there yet, but yes there is.

“Yoongi,” you whimper, mouth twisting as you try to hold back another wave of tears. “We’re going to be parents.”

“We’re going to be parents,” he repeats, swallowing thickly as he meets your eyes again. “Fuck.”

“Fuck,” you agree. You’re delirious, so happy you think you could pass out. “I love you.”

Pulling you into a tight hug, Yoongi rubs your back soothingly. “I love you so much, baby,” he breathes as he nuzzles into your hair.

Nothing has ever felt more right.

four —

Yoongi is going to kill somebody. It’s only a matter of time.

He was close, in that stupid fucking airport. It was going to be that bitchy flight attendant. It was. She’d been testing his patience all goddamn morning, getting testy every time he asked for updates on his flight, and Yoongi was already barely hanging on by a thread. But then he could practically hear your voice in his ear. Don’t be a jackass. It’s not her fault your flight is delayed, you’d say. Because you’re his voice of reason when he can’t keep himself in check.

So the flight attendant was spared.

Then, it was going to be the snot-nosed little brat that kept kicking the back of Yoongi’s seat the whole way home. He had booked the flight last minute, unable to upgrade past economy. Which was fine. It’s not like Yoongi’s a snob!

He was just already pissed off. He wanted—no, needed—to be with you, instead of cruising at 35,000 feet, stuck in his very own personal saw trap. But you’d insisted he go on this stupid ass work trip, eviscerating every single logical objection he tried to make. You were impossible to reason with lately. 

So there he was.

In the end, the kid was spared, too. Only because throttling a child would probably look really bad for him, considering the circumstances.

The universe just seemed to be working against him, even after the plane touched down on the tarmac. Because of course! Of course it took him forever to find his stupid suitcase. Of course it took him even longer to get an Uber. Of course there was traffic on the way! Why not? What’s one more ‘fuck you, Min Yoongi’?

And of course, when he finally makes it, when he’s panting and out of breath, suitcase in hand as he searches wildly for the room number he was texted, the first person he sees is not you.

“Well look what the cat dragged in!”

Yeah, Rina might not make it. He’s sure you’ll understand.

Yoongi appreciates Rina, he really does. He tries to be there for you when you need him, but sometimes, despite his best efforts, he can’t be. It’s just the way life works. But Rina always steps in when she’s needed. Today is a great example.

That being said, Rina also has a tendency to step in when she’s not needed. Or particularly wanted. Like the entire past month, living in his guest bedroom to dote on you even though—apart from the work trip you insisted he go on—Yoongi has literally been working from home since month six, at your beck and call. 

Yoongi gets it. Rina is your best friend. He knows you’ve been elated to have her closeby this past month. But still, Yoongi would’ve paid for a hotel room for her or something. It’s been a little weird trying to, like, fuck his super hot pregnant wife knowing her best friend is just across the hall.

“Hi, Rina,” he says, deadpan even as he’s catching his breath. “Wanna point me in the direction of my wife?”

“She’s piiiiiissed at you,” Rina sing-songs, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Yoongi’s eye twitches.

“Because I’m late?” he guesses.

“Because you impregnated her in the first place.”

“Great,” he says, choosing not to engage. He points at a door. “There?”

“Good luck, champ,” Rina says in response, waving him through. Like he needs fucking permission to see you. Don’t engage don’t engage don’t engage.

Huffing, he opens the door to what he can only hope is actually your room, closing it softly behind him.

“Yoongi,” you warble.

There you are.

Suddenly, it’s like none of the events that have transpired today matter one fucking bit. Not the frantic voicemail he’d woken up to, the delayed flight, the bratty kid, none of it.

You look like an angel. A very pregnant, very stressed angel, but his angel nonetheless.

“Baby,” he breathes. He’s by your side in an instant, carding his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“How was your trip?” you ask, leaning into his touch so sweetly. Man, he missed you.

“About as pointless as I thought it’d be. Just wanted to be with you the whole time.”

“Well, you’re here now.”

“Yeah. I’m here now,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “How are you feeling?”

You huff at that, staring up at him like he’s stupid. Or like Rina wasn’t lying when she said you’re pissed at him. 

“Like my vagina will never be the same again, thanks to you,” you grumble. “I can’t believe I let you do this to me. I’m going to make you pay, Min Yoongi.”

“Feel free,” he huffs, unable to suppress the small smile quirking at the corners of his lips. He can’t help it. You can be pissed at him all you want, he’s just happy to see you. “I’ll even remind you, if you want. Do you want me to put a date on your calendar?”

“Don’t push it,” you grit out, glaring daggers at him.

“You’re the only one doing the pushing today, baby.”

“God, I hope so,” you whine. “Get this thing out of me! It’s not fair that you get to be a DILF and I have to be all big and gross.”

A DILF???

“Baby,” Yoongi coos, doing his best to stifle the laughter threatening to break free. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. You’re glowing.”

“It’s sweat,” you deadpan.

“No, I’m serious,” he insists, taking your hands in his despite the way you try to whack him away. Despite his amusement, he’s completely sincere when he says, “You are the most beautiful woman in the world. Don’t be like that.”

“Really?” you pout.

Yoongi nods sagely, squeezing your hands. “One hundred percent a MILF.”

You groan, whacking his hands away in irritation, successfully this time. “Make yourself useful and go get me some ice chips, motherfucker.”

He snorts, backing towards the door with a little salute. “Yes ma’am,” he says. “I’ll be back in a few. I love you.”

“I love you too. Asshole.”

As he slips out of your room, he swears he catches the corners of your lips turning up, although you try valiantly to hide it. 

Yeah. You’re going to be just fine.

five —

It’s been nine months—thirty six weeks, because apparently babies are measured in weeks for some reason—since Min Penny was brought into this world. Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll ever get sick of looking at her.

She looks so much like you, it’s crazy. Every time he says that, you’re quick to tell him just how wrong he is—that she has Yoongi’s nose, Yoongi’s eyes, Yoongi’s smile—but when he looks at her, all he sees is you.

He loves it. She’s perfect.

She sleeps every night in a crib that Yoongi built, surrounded by stuffed animals that you handpicked, in a home that you two have made together.

Yoongi couldn’t be happier. 

The three of you have spent the last week or so in Daegu, and Yoongi’s parents have had ample time to get plenty of pictures and shower Penny with gifts that she proceeds to shove in her mouth at every opportunity.

It’s time to head back home, but not before a little detour. 

The weather is perfect today, giving both of you an opportunity to celebrate Penny’s half birthday the way you’ve been wanting to. A little overcast, but not so much that there’s a chance of rain. Really, it couldn’t be any better.

Yoongi’s always hated the beach, but a weekend trip to Jeju with his family didn’t sound half bad when you’d pitched it. And now that he’s here, sprawled out on a blanket on Jungmun Saekdal Beach while you shovel Jolly Pong into Penny’s waiting mouth, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

When Penny grows disinterested in the Jolly Pong, you take a moment to adjust the little yellow sun hat you’d bought for her earlier and then lean back on your hands.

“Isn’t that view beautiful?” you sigh.

It’s so silly. You’re gazing out into the water, eyes sparkling as you take in the scenery in front of you. It’s beautiful here, it is. Yoongi hasn’t been to Jeju in a long time, and he’s sure the view is just as beautiful as you say. But all Yoongi can see is you. You, the amazing mother of his child. 

You’re radiant, glowing in a way that he’s never seen before. Even after all this time, you never fail to take his breath away.

“Yeah,” he hums, his hand curling around yours where it rests in the sand. “It is.”

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[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist

— 1/??

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨   ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”

[miange1]

(if you're still up for another suggestion)

What about a male reader who catches onto Donnie's stalking and finds it hot. So the reader decides to confront Donnie about it, teasing and purposely making him freak out that his secret is out before letting him know that he's totally okay with it and that his feelings are reciprocated

DONNIE DARKO

'rappers ain shi, i might fw a baller'

male reader, stalking, reader purposely teasing donnie in multiple ways, jerking off, anal fingering, creepy ass shit, sniffing clothes, ew donnie, implied bottom reader, donnie and reader are best friends, might do a pt2 idk, not proof read at all

you were absolutely perfect. he couldn't ever take his eyes off of you even if he wanted to. you were so addicting, like a child's love for candy, or an adults love for nicotine.

you and donnie were close, not far too close, but close enough. but to him, the two of you were like two peas in a pod, absolutely inseparable. he was fully convinced at the fact that you would never ever leave him, that you absolutely needed him and that he absolutely needed you.

now, it'd start some time ago when he was staying over for a few nights. the two of you played on the newly bought consle hooked up to the big and bulky tv, before he had needed to use the restroom.

the bathroom was all the way downstairs, so it would take a while for him to go down, piss, then come back up.

so you had taken advantage of that time to just..have a small quickie. when he had come back a couple of minutes later to hear heavy breathing, he stopped. only peeking through the small crack of the door to see what was going on.

his dick practically sprung up seeing you had your shirt in your mouth, fist going up and down while your hips bucked into the air and you whimpered from the feeling.

he just couldn't look away, how could he? he noticed the way your teary eye would glance over in his direction but he quickly moved to the walls side where you couldn't see him through the crack

his heart was pumping so quick it may as well squirt blood from across the room.

when he came back you acted like you couldn't see him, like you hadn't just jerked off right in front of him. you couldn't see him, right? cause he stared for a pretty long time with hopes of it lasting longer.

now it was a habit. every single, "bye donnie, see you tomorrow." was him staring into your window at night, maybe even coming inside to watch you sleep directly. sometimes he'd even touch you, but would stop and quickly just go back to staring everytime you moved.

he'd watch you listen to music on your walkman, watch you do homework, watch movies, change.

his favorite part was watching you change, he liked it even more when he was hiding somewhere and being able to watch you pretty closely. he might take a few things, there was only one time he took something big but he had to put it back cause you had been sulking about it being gone the whole week.

he felt terrible when he was watching you at your most vulnerable moments. he sat on a tree branch close to the furthest window that still had a clear view of your bed side. he perked up seeing you put your book down, and your eyes drift the the middle of your sweatpants.

he dryly swallowed, getting closer to the window to see your movements. it was the usual, jerking off— but something was just.. different?

your fingers went into your mouth while you were already doing it, he didn't understand. then when you were done your fingers drifted lower, and lower. you had shimmied your pants off somewhere else and now you were completely without pants.

donnie felt a tent in his own pants, breath hitching as he started to feel tingly.

"donnie.." he snapped out of it.

did you call his name? did you know he was here watching you? no, that couldn't be because if you knew then you wouldn't be masturbating right now, would you?

you were masturbating thinking about him. shit, oh shit. was this bad or good? he didn't understand? were you thinking about him the first time he saw you jerk off? and all the other times he secretly watched you?

he observed as your back arched into your own touch the way you got louder the more you curled your fingers inside. "oh..mh.."

he hands pressed to the window, heavy breaths puffing onto the glass and fogging it up.

"don..nie.." and your eyes gazed over to him. not like last time— you looked right at him. he freaked out, backing up and quickly climbing out of the tree.

dick hard, heart pounding, panic coursing through him. how was he gonna face you tomorrow?

heading home was awkward. his little sister was up late getting a snack, and was just as confused as he was. "..where do you go at night?"

next day he wasn't allowed to stay home because it was friday, and his mother had seen no point in making him stay from school.

it was a few minutes before class, and everyone was talking and messing around before the teacher would get back.

he was hoping to God that you wouldn't show up, the words 'please stay home, please stay home' repeating over and over in his mind.

"donnie!" god damn it.

"hey man, how you doin'? didn't see you at the bus stop, you alright?" he gave you a look of what he hoped wasn't nervousness to give him away. "i walked." you pouted playfully, as if to piss him off.

"what? man, i was with your dork friends for at least fifteen minutes." he tuned out most of your words static in his brain before,

"and i think i have a stalker." his head snapped up to face yours, his arms tightening around his bag. "a..stalker?" "mhm."

his mouth had that dry feeling again, but not in a good way. "why..why do you think so?" damn it, he needed to stop stuttering!

"well, every time i sleep i swear i hear someone breathing next to me." he should have held his breath, or contained himself. "and something tickled my skin? im not too sure." fuck did he have to touch you?

"and even some of my stuff is missing, you remember when– yeah, you do." a smirk graced your face, you knew and better yet you were teasing him about it.

"you got an idea of what he looks like?" it's the way you kept eye contact with him, like you waited for him to ask that damn question.

"eh..maybe 5'11 or so." you shrugged,

"brown hair maybe? i saw a bit of it, or maybe it was my imagination." then your hand would take his, and press against it as if to compare sizes but that wasn't it.

"and last night, i saw a hand print on my glass about..this big." you glanced at his hand, only to look at him again. "think you can find him for me?" he felt himself smile a bit, now understanding what you had meant.

"yeah..yeah, i can find him." you moved your hand away once the teacher had come back and students started to get quieter. "thanks man, i appreciate that."

[scentedluminarysoul]

Whenever someone says that, I like to ask really intrusive questions. What's your bra? What's your penis size? What's the color of your underwear?

None of that is illegal. It's not illegal to own underwear or breasts or a penis. But I bet most people don't want random strangers to know these things

Also, what if they make something illegal tomorrow? Line being a gender?

Or take abortion: nothing illegal about having a period or missing one due to stress. But there are period tracking apps that give their data to law enforcement, who might see a gap and assume you were pregnant had an abortion in a state/country where it's illegal, and then they come and arrest you for it.

Wouldn't that fucking suck?

Privacy is a right. Don't give it up without a fight.

[marzshin]

thinking about having a secret relationship with Jamil…

•honestly it’s probably better for the both of you to have a secret relationship. his duties as kalim’s servant can go undisturbed by kalim’s excitement about him being in a relationship, he’d still be able to fly under the radar like he wants to, and you, as the kind prefect, can do without the teasing and probable odd looks from other students.

•something about having to be quiet about your affections in public can be cute at times; the knowing glances you guys exchange when denying someone’s suspicions, walking a bit too close together before realizing and making distance with a breathy laugh. it might not be ideal but it works for you guys.

•the fact that you all are limited in how you show pda, makes alone time all the more special for the two of you. when he’s alone in the kitchen of scarabia, while you’re there too, he’ll invite you over next to him and allow you to assist in his cooking and answer any questions while guiding you hands with his own. another precious time is when you two are alone in his room. now this is rare… as much as he wants to be with you more often, it just can’t be helped sometimes, which is why during the time he’s with you in his room, he spends it relishing in your touch.

•your limbs tangled together with your foreheads rested against one another, it’s a fleeting moment, as jamil’s duty calls yet again as kalim’s voice rings through the hall to their rooms. kalim calls for jamil and your both quick to get up and move to act like you’re studying instead of cuddling. and as if on

que, kalim barges in with a beaming smile. “Jamil! so i was wondering… oh! you guys are studying? i didn’t know there was a test coming up?” his voice rings through your ears and you glance at jamil before looking towards the white haired boy. “there’s no test. y/n just had a question about some homework. we’re done now if you need something.” jamil answers with an almost unnoticeable sigh. guess it’s time to say your goodbyes and try again tomorrow.

•just because you have to be careful in this relationship doesn’t mean jamil loves you any less. he’s glad he has somebody who wants him as much as he wants them.

woohoo! another little thing written, let’s go me! i actually like this one quite a bit, i hope you all like it too! thanks so much for the support on my kalim x goth reader headcannons, i really appreciate it as i’m not used to writing things like this. if you have any suggestions or critics, please feel free to share them!

[just1cefor4ll]

Summer Days

summary. you get hired as Gong Yoo’s personal photographer as a summer job— however things change once he starts catching feelings for his little paparazzi.

warning. photos might not correspond with the set season or place, some pictures may not be exactly of Gong Yoo but they are meant to be him so just imagine it being him, not proof read, mentions of reader growing up in Seoul but no specific skin colour, ethnicity or anything like that was mentioned

Email after email… yet none were answered. You were trying to get a job as a photographer for the summer, trying to get out of the house, travel a bit— maybe even meet a few hot celebrities.. and of course get money for your necessities.

You were in your 30s, living in a small apartment in Tokyo which was enough for you alone, but something inside of you wanted a change.

It had been tough, though. In your 30s, living alone in a modest space, the quiet moments often stretched too long. You’d spent countless hours applying for jobs, most with no response, and the few rejections you received stung even worse. Then came the call from your mother.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s the summer job hunt going?” she asked cheerily, her warmth radiating through the phone. Though you couldn’t see her, you could easily picture her familiar smile. You sighed, massaging your temple. “Mom, I told you yesterday—no one’s answered me yet,” you admitted, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth. It was embarrassing enough being 37 and struggling to find work, but confessing it to your mother made it even harder. “Oh, right,” she said, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry, honey—they’ll be fighting over you as their photographer in no time!” Her light laugh managed to coax a smile out of you. Somewhere deep in your chest, hope flickered. “Thanks, Mom. I love you,” you said softly. “I love you too, dear. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

The line clicked, leaving you in the stillness of your apartment. You sighed again, though this time there was a glimmer of contentment in it. As much as you missed your family in Seoul, you were determined to make this new life in Japan work.

As if on que, you got an email;

“Miss [Name] [Last Name],

We’ve read through your email and saw the photographs you listed in your portfolio and we’re happy to announce we’d like to have you as a personal photographer for Gong Ji-cheol— or professionally known as Gong Yoo. Please respond as quickly as possible so we can book you a flight to Seol where you’d get picked up. Further information will be given once you arrive.

Kind regards, Management Soop.”

Your jaw dropped. A squeal of excitement erupted before you could stop yourself, and you jumped out of your chair so fast it toppled to the floor. Clutching your chest to steady your racing heart, you took a deep breath and quickly typed out a reply.

What followed was a blur of packing and planning. Before long, you were on a plane back to Seoul, staring out the window with a small, satisfied smile.

yn.photographs

like by user66801663877, management.soop, annacathcart and 873 others

yn.ph0tographs Guess who’s in Seol .. YAYYDYHDS

486 commented

annacathcart have a safe trip girl!!

nonamee WHATTT

user67464483929 cant wait for whatever new you capture<3

The car stopped in front of a tall apartment building. A man from Management Soop—your temporary manager—led you inside and handed you a set of keys. “This will be your home for the time you’ll be working for us. Unpack and get some rest. Be ready by 5 AM tomorrow— I’ll explain everything then so meet me in the lobby on time.”

And with a snap of your fingers; the next morning came— “Yes, you heard correctly— we’re going to Jeju.” The manager said with a sigh before chuckling at your enthusiasm. “Come on now we’ll miss the plane.” “Will Gong Yoo be meeting us there?” You asked with curiosity, getting a simple nod as your response.

When you finally arrived on Jeju Island, the sea breeze kissed your skin, and the scenery was as breathtaking as you’d imagined. You caught a glimpse of Gong Yoo from afar but there was no chance to speak to him yet. You all settled in a cabin, large enough for everyone— and your equipment which was off to a great start in your book. Your room was right across from the manager while Gong Yoo was upstairs. It was cozy, and you couldn’t wait to spend the week there.

As the evening rolled in, everyone gathered for a brief meeting. Gong Yoo finally joined the group, descending the staircase with an air of effortless charm. When his gaze landed on you, he offered a small but genuine smile. “You must be our photographer,” he said, his deep voice smoother than you expected. You nodded, suddenly aware of how dry your throat felt. “Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you managed to say, giving a small bow. He chuckled softly. “Likewise. I hope you’re ready for some early mornings and long hikes.” You smiled back, the initial nerves giving way to excitement. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

gongyoo_official

liked by yn.ph0tographs, gongyoostan2, user877432011357 and 600K others

gongyoo_official📍Jeju Island

268K commented

gongyoostan who dat in the baaack (behind the camera)

╰┈➤ management.soop replied Gong Yoo’s new personal photographer— every picture taken during summer time is taken by @.yn.phot0graphs :)

╰┈➤ yn.phot0graphs replied ME ME ME i mean hi I’m the new photographer of the team :3

The manager clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, team. Tomorrow’s itinerary is packed. We’ll start before sunrise to catch the golden hour at Hamdeok beach. It’s going to be a long day, so get plenty of rest tonight.”

As everyone dispersed, you lingered by the window, gazing out at the moonlit landscape. The faint hum of conversation drifted from the kitchen, where Gong Yoo and the manager were chatting over tea. It felt surreal, being in the midst of all this, on the cusp of a week that could change your life.

The next morning, your alarm blared at 4:00 AM. Groggily, you got dressed and grabbed your gear, double-checking everything before heading downstairs. Gong Yoo was already there, sipping coffee and looking impossibly awake for such an early hour. He glanced at you and smiled. “Morning,” he said. “Morning,” you replied, suppressing a yawn. The team piled into a van, driving through the dark until you reached your destination. By the time you arrived, the sky was beginning to blush with hints of orange and gold. You quickly set up your equipment, the cool morning air sharp against your skin.

Gong Yoo stood a few meters away, gazing at the horizon. You took a moment to frame the shot: the rising sun casting a warm glow, and Gong Yoo, serene and reflective, perfectly positioned.

It was the first of many photos that day, but something about that moment felt special—like the beginning of something extraordinary.

yn.ph0tographs

liked by gongyoo_official, btsfan02, user0026554478, iloveyn and 2K others

yn.ph0tographs first day on the job :0

387 commented

gongyoo_official so talented!

╰┈➤ iloveyn replied OFC SHE IS???

╰┈➤ yn.ph0tographs replied haha thank you :)

gongyoo_official

liked by gongyooswife, noname, skz_fan, user7775442106848 and 526K others

389K commented

The week went by quite fast— you got to know Gong Yoo a bit more and by the end of the week, he handed you his contact information with a casual, “In case we need to coordinate anything later.” You’d tried to play it cool, but the excitement bubbled just beneath the surface.

Now, you found yourself on a flight to Paris—your next assignment. It sounded glamorous on paper, but arriving during peak tourist season turned the dream into a mixed bag. The streets were packed, the lines stretched endlessly, and the prices soared. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of being in the city of lights. The view however was nice. You could see the Eiffel tower from your window but it wasn’t necessarily close. Maybe a 45 minute walk?

Gong Yoo’s room was just down the hall. He knocked lightly on your door shortly after you’d settled in. “You should see the view from the rooftop,” he said with a small smile. “Better than this?” you teased, gesturing toward your window. “Trust me.”

You grabbed your camera and followed him up the narrow staircase to the rooftop. He wasn’t wrong—the view was breathtaking. “I see why they call it the City of Lights,” you murmured, framing the scene through your lens. Gong Yoo leaned on the railing beside you, his expression thoughtful. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Makes you forget about the crowds for a moment.”

You nodded, snapping a few more photos before lowering your camera. “How are you not completely overwhelmed by all this? The constant traveling, the attention, the schedule... doesn’t it ever get to you?”He chuckled softly. “It does. But moments like this make it worth it. I get to slow down, even if just for a little while.” The two of you stood in companionable silence for a while, the cool Parisian breeze brushing past. It wasn’t often you got moments like this—peaceful and unhurried, shared with someone who seemed to understand the value of it.

The next day would bring more tourists, more shoots, and more challenges. But for now, standing on that rooftop with the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

gongyoo_official

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gongyoo_official ❤️

422K commented

yn.ph0tographs

liked by ynstan, sunnyxcx and 22K others

yn.ph0tographs a dream come true!! hello Paris<3

7K commented

After a chaotic week in Paris filled with photo shoots at iconic landmarks, decadent pastries, and navigating swarms of tourists, the next stop on the list brought you back to familiar ground: Japan.

The flight landed smoothly, and soon enough, you were settled into a traditional house/hotel in Kyoto. Unlike Tokyo, Kyoto exuded a serene charm with its ancient temples, lush gardens, and calmer streets. Your room overlooked a tranquil koi pond, and the moment you stepped out into the gardens, the soft sound of flowing water seemed to wash away the exhaustion from Paris.

That evening, the team had dinner at a traditional ryokan, complete with tatami mats and kaiseki cuisine. Gong Yoo seemed to relish the slower pace, admiring the peaceful surroundings. “This feels like a reset,” he said during dinner, glancing at you across the low table. You nodded, setting down your chopsticks. “Kyoto has that effect. It’s hard to feel stressed when everything around you feels so timeless.”

The next day, your work began. Kyoto offered an entirely different aesthetic to capture—one steeped in history and natural beauty. The golden pavilion of Kinkaku-ji, the endless red torii gates of Fushimi Inari Shrine, and many more beautiful landmarks.

At one point, you found yourself photographing Gong Yoo at Arashiyama’s bamboo grove. The towering stalks of green stretched high above, creating a natural cathedral of light and shadows. You snapped a candid shot just as he glanced over his shoulder, the light catching his profile perfectly.

“That was a good one, wasn’t it?” he asked after the click, his lips curling into a knowing smile. You grinned, reviewing the image on your camera’s screen. “You’re a natural, Gong Yoo.” “Well, I’ve had some practice,” he teased, his tone light.

On your final evening in Kyoto, the team gathered on a rooftop overlooking the city. Lanterns glowed softly, and the distant hum of cicadas filled the air. Gong Yoo joined you as you leaned on the railing, your camera resting by your side.

“Thanks for making me look good,” he said, his voice warm. You laughed softly. “You make my job easy.” He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I think you see more than most people. Not just with the camera, but... you notice things others might overlook.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Instead, you simply smiled, letting the quiet between you speak volumes.

gongyoo_official

liked my management_soop, yn.ph0tographs and 689K others

gongyoo_official tagged @.yn.ph0tographs

300K commented

gongyooswife meow

ynstan mother is back home YAYAYAY

╰┈➤ yn.ph0tographs replied daddy’s home…

╰┈➤ ynstan replied ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

yn.ph0tographs

liked by gongyoo_official, in0tsaraa, user88775528943, idkmyname and 73K others

yn.ph0tographs Home sweet home<3

tagged: @.gongyoo_official

17K commented

megumijjk we missed you :(((

user77636338902 gtfo

╰┈➤ yn.ph0tographs replied get a job or smth dude

╰┈➤ user77636338902 replied OMG Y/N IM SUCH A BIG FAN

╰┈➤ thanosxfork replied the switch up is crazy

Weeks passed and your camera only got fuller and fuller as you captured the most exotic and beautiful shots in places like Croatia— the rocky beaches along with the wonderful clear water of the sea enchanting you with its charm.

One day, the team arranged for a shoot on Lokrum Island, just a short boat ride from Dubrovnik. The beaches and lush greenery provided the perfect backdrop for the shoot. After the shoot, while the team packed up, Gong Yoo approached you, holding two gelatos he’d somehow managed to grab from a vendor on the island.

“Peace offering,” he said with a grin, handing you one. “For what?” You laughed as you accepted the gift. “For making you work so hard in this heat,” he said, gesturing toward your camera. “You deserve a break.” The two of you sat by the water’s edge, the sound of waves lapping against the rocks filling the air. He shared stories of his childhood summers by the beach, and you found yourself opening up about your family vacations around Korea.

By the time the boat returned to take the team back, you felt a warmth in your chest that had little to do with the sun.

Then came California. It was a blur of palm trees, coastal highways, and the vibrant energy of Hollywood. The team spent most of the time in Los Angeles, but the highlight was a road trip to Big Sur for a shoot along the rugged coastline.

One evening, after a sunset shoot by the cliffs, the two of you lingered while the rest of the team headed back to the lodge. The Pacific stretched endlessly before you, the waves crashing below in a soothing rhythm.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he said, glancing at you. “Just taking it all in,” you replied, raising your camera to snap a candid shot of him against the fading light. “I’m still not used to the sudden moving around every two weeks.. I’ve never traveled this far before.” You said as you looked through the days pictures.

He smirked. “Do I look that interesting?” You lowered the camera, meeting his gaze. “More than you realize.”

The vulnerability in your tone seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the grass. Then he smiled—a soft, almost shy expression you saw many times before in your time as his photographer.

The Netherlands was the final destination, and Amsterdam was as picturesque as the postcards promised. The cobblestone streets, the narrow houses leaning toward the canals, and the fields of tulips outside the city made every corner feel like a story waiting to be told.

The two of you wandered into a quiet tulip field after a morning shoot. The colors were mesmerising, rows of red, yellow, and purple stretching endlessly.

“Now you’re the one being unusually quiet.” You said, elbowing him playfully.He looked at you, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I was just thinking about how much this summer has changed me. I thought this would just be another job, but...” He trailed off, then added softly, “I think I’ll miss this.”

“What, the traveling?” you teased lightly, though his tone had made your heart skip a beat. “No,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “This. You. I think I’ve never really enjoyed a work trip as much as this one.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His eyes traveled up and down— as if he was studying you; maybe even admiring you. He took a step closer, looking down at you with a sort of vulnerability you haven’t seen before even during your late night talks where you practically spilled your life out to him; but that didn’t really mean anything, did it?

“Well, at least you’ll have the photos to remember it all.” His smile was bittersweet as he looked away, his gaze settling on the endless tulips. “Yeah. But I don’t think the photos will ever capture it completely.”

gongyoo_official

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gongyoo_official last days of the summer spent in the netherlands ❤️

147K commented

September was just a week away, the time passed quite fast and so the team organised a farewell dinner which you didn’t really want to attend; partially because you didn’t want to say goodbye to this job.

You stepped out of the restaurant with a bitter look on your face, sitting down on a bench with a view of the river flowing through the streets with couples in love getting a tour on one of the many boats you saw that day. You fiddled with the camera in your hand, looking down and going through the thousands of pictures that had made their way into your heart.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice startled you, but of course you recognised where it came from. You nodded, and he sat down beside you, the space between you barely noticeable.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding ridiculous,” he began, his eyes fixed on the canal. “But I don’t think I can go back to how things were before this summer. You’ve changed the way I see things—the way I see myself.”

You turned to him, your breath catching at the raw sincerity in his voice. “[Name], I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s real. And I don’t want it to end just because the summer is over.” Your heart raced, his words sinking in like a tide rising to meet the shore. Slowly, you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his. “Maybe it doesn’t have to,” you said softly. He smiled, intertwining your fingers with his as he pulled you into his shoulder, resting your head on it.

As the lanterns cast their warm glow over the water, the two of you sat in quiet understanding, the promise of something more lingering in the air. Summer may have ended, but you knew you weren’t leaving this job that easily.

gongyoo_official posted to their story

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[jd-loves-fiction]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝

❏ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rin Itoshi x GN!Reader

❏ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

❏ 𝐰𝐜: 1.2k

❏ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're kind of a pain in Rin's neck, but you're also the only one who's always been there. Maybe Rin can find a spot for you in his life...

❏ 𝗮/𝗻: Still getting used to writing for Blue lock in general so this might be very out of character idk but I'm just kookie for Rin before the trauma MY SHAYLAAA 😭

“Slowpoke!” You call out gleefully to a disgruntled Rin Itoshi, running towards the goal with a ball basically glued to your speedy little feet.

It’s just a friendly game, goal limits marked by school bags and a pair of cleats. But it could never be just a friendly game between the two of you.

Really, it’s Rin’s fault for egging you on, saying you couldn't possibly be the best striker in the world since Sae will be the best and him second best – no space for you – as if third place doesn't exist. Idiot.

“GOOAAALLL!! With no competition, with no hope of being stopped it's a GOAALL!”

“Alright! Pipe down already.” Rin scolds you, cheeks adorably flushed, lip poking out petulantly.

“What's that? Sorry, I can't quite understand you, since I don't speak loser!” 

Rin’s round face twists angrily at your taunting, as if he didnt start this, lips already twisting to ask for a rematch when clapping sounds from outside his field of vision.

“Sae-san!”

“Nii-chan!” You call out at the same time, running over to the older boy, “Sorry I'm late.”

“Sae-san, did you see? That goal was perfect, right?” you speak as quickly as your young lungs will allow, desperate for some validation from the one who’d one day be the best striker in the world.

(You believed it then.)

“Well, I wouldn't say perfect necessarily. See, your balance was off and you hit it–” he stops at the slowly deflating confidence on your face, “I saw it. Heard it too. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood did.” 

“Well, good!”

Rin immediately scoffs, childishly irked at the pride on your face, “I could’ve scored a perfect goal, two even! If you hadn’t tripped me.”

“Ha! You mean if you hadn’t tripped yourself. Seriously, how will you be the No.2 striker in the world if you can't even walk in a straight line?”

“You–” Rin starts, infuriated and ready to prove you wrong a hundred times over, before Sae cuts him off.

“Alright! How about we all get some ice cream and sort this out another day?” He'd usually let you fight it out, but your volume was beginning to attract odd stares.

You and Rin shoot each other one last glare promising a rematch, before rushing to grab your things and follow Sae.

“Ah, wait. I can't.” Rin’s face flickers with disappointment for a split second. And then he's back to running his mouth.

“Hmph! How are you planning to be the best striker if you keep running off to do other stuff?”

“What does that have to do with ice cream?”

Turns out, everything. Since football is everything, everything is therefore football related.

Totally not because he's jealous of the fact that in spite of training less than him, you have no problem keeping up on the field.

Nope, totally not.

“Tch, whatever. I'm going now. See you tomorrow!” Turning around to leave as Sae tells you goodbye while Rin furrows his brows at the flower of disappointment blooming in his chest.

For a moment, you stand there, thinking, considering.

“Oh and Rin?” You catch his attention, turning around just in time to see his eyes light up like the ocean on a calm sunny day…

And sticking your tongue out at him, “Bleh!”

Sae tries his best not to lose it as his brother trembles in bitterness at you getting the last dumb word, while you're already running off in the other direction.

His brother tells him he'll be going to Spain later that day and time passes in a blink. Before you know it, it's just the two of you.

Walking home. Practicing late after school. Eyes catching during games.

It's a little awkward at first, silences seem to stretch on for longer than they ever have, especially as adolescence puts strange thoughts in both your heads.

Has Rin always been so pretty? So tall? His voice so smooth and his expression so cool when he scores one of his perfect goals?

Has your smile always been that bright? Your eyes? Your laugh that melodic?

When did your presence become the most treasured constant in his life?

Was it all the times when you comforted him when he was missing Sae but never admitting it? (Somehow you always knew.)

Was it when you practiced with him after hours, even when you were ready to drop from exhaustion?

Was it all the times he helped you with your homework, without ever teasing you for needing help?

Or was it this one day…

The sky had been a gloomy kind of dark all afternoon, ready to bring down mighty rain at any moment.

The moment chosen fell right in the middle of one of your late practice sessions.

Slowly, the stickiness of the sweat on your skin turns to the wetness of cold autumn rain.

“Oh, it's finally raining.” Rin comments softly, lightly jogging toward shelter – a few more minutes of training are not worth catching a cold for.

“Huh?” He notices you're not moving, stood still as a statue as the rain keeps coming down without mercy.

“What are you doing? You're–” 

“Hey, Rin?” Your voice is so quiet amidst the heavy Rai, but he hears you as… any day but this one. A sliver of nervousness crawls down his spine at something in your tone – what it is, he can't say.

“You still wanna be second best?”

“Of course I do.” He answers firmly, without a speck of hesitation. As if he could ever change his mind. 

(If only he knew.)

The corner of your lip lifts into a fond smile, with a dash of something heavier, before you turn to him with a wet and shining ball beneath your foot, “Then, come on No.2. First to score wins, the other's a lukewarm loser.”

You're off before he can say another word, watching the back of your drenched uniform as you race towards the goal.

“Slowpoke–!” Both of you gasp as your foot slips on the wet grass, sending you tumbling onto your back, punching the air from your lungs.

Rin finally moves, rushing to your side without following your example before leaning over you while scanning for injuries.

And then, you're laughing.

He's worried sick, looking at you with the widest eyes in the world, wondering if you have a concussion and you're laughing. Loudly, openly, bright as sunshine with rain water all over your lovely face.

Your lovely face… your lovely dumb face that he just can't stop thinking about – even if it distracts him during games, or class or any moment of his day – he just can't stop thinking about you.

Because you'd always been there, and he hopes you always will be.

“Stupid,” he tells you with no bite, kicking the forgotten ball so it rolls slowly towards the goal, “There, you're a lukewarm loser, now get up before you become a cold loser and I have to carry you home.”

You’re not a loser though, far from it.

And maybe third best isn't that bad. Not if you stay close to him as you are.

Because if the one thing he's always had, the one person who’s always been there, suddenly left?

It might just break him.

[parker-artio]

The idea of Steph being a med student cracks me up. Because this girl stays up all night beating people up, gets maybe two hours of sleep before she’s getting up for her 7am class on human anatomy.

She starts working in Gotham’s City’s ER as a volunteer student so she doesn’t have to take an extra class and can just take the test at the end of the year for the credit. One day she shows up and sees her patient is a thug she bullied last night while kicking his ass.

She might never show her face in his room again.

When she barely passes a test with a C- she wants to cry when Alfred asks how her test went, but Alfred reassures her, saying it’s good, and that she still passed. But Bruce always catches a stray or two when her major gets brought up. No way he wouldn’t.

Alfred: Congratulations Miss Stephanie, it might only be a C but it is still passing!

Steph: Thanks alfred but I feel like I could be doing better

Alfred: At least you’re sure you want to be a doctor. You haven’t dropped out and you’re passing your classes. That’s what matters.

Bruce at Wayne Enterprises in the middle of a board meeting, feeling a chill go down his spine: something just happened…

Plus there’s the added joke of her being called dumb, lazy, ect from Damian (he insults her so much I can’t remember them all rn)

Damian: What’s that Brown? Can’t shake your head in fear your brain will rattle around in there?

Steph thinking about her biology test tomorrow she got maybe 10 minutes of studying in for since it was announced last month: Shut the fuck up.

Thugs would hate to see her. Like genuinely HATE seeing her during finals season. They don’t know anything about these bats, but they all agree if it’s final season and you see a blonde haired bat in purple- you’re fucked. Run as fast as you can unless you want a concussion and her to ask where all your pain is.

None of the super villains in Gotham ever remember mentioning they have any kind of health issues, yet somehow she always knows. The purple bat who goes by too many names, just KNOWS.

Riddler about to pull the lever for something dramatic: Well you failed to answer my riddle so-

Steph cutting him off: Your skeleton

Riddler: wrong it’s-

Steph cutting him off yet again with a heavy sigh: Listen Nigma, you have to calm down for once. Your blood pressure hates you, slow down on the salty and fatty foods. Do you smoke? Because if you do, slow down on that too. Or just quit. And the actual answer is bare-bones. But synonyms of the answer should work too.

Riddler who’s doctor told him he was at risk for high blood pressure but ignored it: I- no… I don’t smoke.

Steph: …

Riddler: I quit years ago!

Plus she’d totally access Alfred’s medical records to learn little things about the others to annoy them with. She’d be elbow deep and learn that Dick’s left ankle was injured at 12 and is prone to injuries because it never proper medical attention because he avoided Alfred when he first got hurt.

She’d bring it up in conversation too.

Steph, after Dick pisses her off and she’s walking away: What your step, Boy Wonder, it’d be a shame if your left ankle got broke because of its fragility…

Dick unsure where she learned that: …what

The whole concept of her as a med student makes me laugh and I wish more people looked at it and thought about the humor and jokes that can go with her being one.

It’s peak comedy to me, I need more fics of her just being a broke college student who’s tired of thugs attacking her when she’s trying to study for her test on patrol. She’s sitting on top of W.E. Reading her anatomy book for her first class at 7:30 while her four other books are underneath. Why she has a test in all of her classes on the same day, she doesn’t know. Will she pass them? Who the fuck knows. But if that bat signal goes off again tonight she might break into the police precinct and give them a piece of her mind.

[sprinklesoncake]

While I sip on my apple tea and eat my apple pie, let me tell you another my opinion of Calebs storyline.

Warning: Spoilers!

First of all, I was always a Caleb stan the moment I saw him and chapter 4 broke me back then. My worry was, how the devs will handle him in the story. It is hard writing a character who is suppose to be dead in MCs eyes.

His introduction was🥵 him in uniform and then using his evol against an assassin had me feel things and then the scene where the fleet landed and him in his sunglasses AHHHHHH!

The interrogation was also hot af! But that’s not my point, I could go on for days talking about how sexy Caleb is lol When they hugged you could actually feel the relief on both sides. Let me say this but MC in this story was better than before in my opinion.

And I know a lot are creep out by his possessiveness but knowing that he also lost his parents as a young child he probably was already traumatised and then MC came into his life, someone who gave him warmth, that little boy wanted to start protecting his sun so bad. In his anecdotes there is a hint that Caleb was already possessive like he is now. He almost lost his life too during his training as an aerospace pilot but the only thing that kept him fighting was the thought of MC. And now after the explosion he took the sacrifice to be an experiment so that MC won’t have to go through that. In his mind it’s better to be alive than letting MC fight on her own.

And that chip??? Every soldier seems to have in the fleet where they basically become cold and emotionless soldiers? Or when that kid was crying for his sister’s death and the chip realised an error? MC in his myth was implementing one into herself (Might be wrong but I think it is heavily implied) and the chip made her go crazy. She thought there is no tomorrow! Maybe that chip also makes Calebs fear even bigger and that’s why he’s like that now. And possessiveness might not be count as a “weak feeling” by the system.

His possessiveness throughout the main story makes more sense now if you keep that in mind. Am I still mad that he drugged us? Edit: A friend of mine told me that the english translation once again sucks ass. In Chinese it was just cold medicine and he just took the chance since MC was already sick to his advantage. Absolutely! But it shows me how easy it is for love turning into possession, the fear he feels makes him do things he normally wouldn’t act out. He wants to protect his sun so bad.

MC however wants to go back in time where everything was still alright. She sees that Caleb is in pain, that someone who had no secrets with her suddenly is not telling her everything. Unlike Zayne, who MC met again as basically “a stranger”, Caleb was constantly in her life and both of them didn’t want to be separated ever. It is understandable that she can’t grasp the “new Caleb” yet.

Both of them yearn for each other so badly and want whats best for the other one but they need to understand that none of them is the same as before. MC is not a child, she knows things about herself which she can’t ignore anymore and Caleb needs to accept that. MC on the other hand needs to accept that after the explosion, Caleb due to circumstances is not the Caleb she knew before.

I was so happy when the start of his myth told us that they found a way to coexist but you could feel that they don’t fully accept it 100%. Yet both of them are ready to die for each other.

And let’s not forget that MC is possessive herself. In his 4* where MC kisses his cheek, the story was about how MC thought he got a love letter and knowing how Caleb never accepted one before, she got curious. She vaguely asked Caleb in 3rd person and he thought she had a crush on someone. Both of them were restless and who tf gets restless not knowing your best friend crush?? UNLESS you yourself are possessive for that person. And the promise they both made at the end? “You promise to not ever get a girlfriend!” That is one cruel promise to make UNLESS again, you are possessive if each other and deep down you know you’ll end up together😂Crazy finds crazy😂

I really like how the devs wrote this story. It is exactly how I thought the vibe would be between those two and I can’t wait for the next story cards and main story.

What is your thought, dear reader?

[corkinavoid]

Obsessed With You by Cosmicandy

Theater gothic/Phantom of the opera

(For some horrific reason I couldn't think of a trope)

DPxDC Phantom in the Opera

9/2 sat

Went to Gotham City Opera to see Eugene Onegin with B & Dames. The performance sucked ass (as modern takes on classics usually do), but during Tatyana's aria, some tech guy dropped a rubber chicken from catwalks right on stage. I bet it was on purpose since the lead's voice sounded much similar to the sound that chicken made. Wish I could shake the dude's hand, that was truly the crescendo of the whole scene.

15/2 sun

Came by GCO on the way to WE. Had some time to spare, so decided to go in and find the rubber chicken guy to thank him for the laugh last week. Thought he might appreciate the positive feedback since he was defo yelled at for the stunt. Turns out everyone blames it on a 'ghost'. Using 'Phantom of the Opera' as a cover story is poor taste, in my opinion, but on the other hand, it worked, and who am I to judge.

17/2 mon

Got curious and pulled up the records of GCO employees. No one matches the guy I've seen on the catwalks.

18/2 tue

Blackmailed Damian into drawing the guy. No match through the face recognition program. Should have expected that, really; the one cute guy with a sense of humor I meet (or see, actually), and he doesn't exist.

20/2 thur

Can't stop thinking about the rubber chicken guy. Might have to go back to GCO and ask about the whole ghostly rumor. Last time, no one bat an eye at the 'ghost' excuse, now that I think about it. Has it happened before? Is it a go-to explanation for any prank no one wants to take credit for?

26/2 wed

Visited GCO at night. Seen the guy, but the cam footage came back corrupted when checked downstairs. So maybe the fact that his hair was floating and glowing in the dark was not a hallucination.

27/2 thur

Definitely not a hallucination! Good news: got a sample. Bad news: after analysis, the data also came back corrupted. Weird news: the hair keeps glowing even after it's been cut off.

2/3 sun

The guy's name is Danny. Ghost story confirmed. I'm having a crisis.

4/3 tue

I'm not sure if I want to know absolutely everything there is to know about him or I want to forget everything I've already learned. But then, I've already got so far. Might as well commit to the bit?

8/3 sat

Was invited to see La Traviata tomorrow. Can I still call that reconnaissance, or am I in date territory?

10/3 mon

...it was a date. On an entirely unrelated note, Teddy Hyde ruined all my attempts at coming prepared.

18/3 tue

Heard a new rumor among GCO staff members. They suspect the ghost in their opera is having a crush on Red Robin. Not sure where they've got that idea, but it sure took them some time to notice.

19/3 wed

Damian keeps staring at me at dinners. Maybe I should take that portrait of Danny that he did down from the wall over my bed.

22/3 sat

Going on a date today, and this time, it's definitely a date! Feels like I should be having a crisis over dating a ghost, but somehow, I'm only having a crisis over outfit choices.

61/0° gBs

hEy, yoU're keEEpinG a DIary¡ aboUt Me!¡ ThAt"s cuTe FUCK OFF DANNY THIS IS PRIVATE INFORMATION GET OUT heHeheEhe no~

~•~•~•~

The thing is, I loved the song. And I loved the aesthetic. And I had such a goddamn hard time figuring out how to fit them together; I went through at least three different setups before deciding fuck it imma write silly boys being silly and wish for the best.

Dare I say it turned out cute as fuck, even though I still missed the mark on theater gothic aesthetic for the most part. Anyway, have a few pictures for general vibes!

[Just so you know, if you enter 'sex with a ghost' into google, the first few results will be the lyrics to 'Sex with a Ghost' by Terry Hyde, which is why Tim's research has been rather fruitless]

[mvrlqni]

in ho protecting fem¡reader when she gets attacked during the fights that break out at night?

IN YOUR ARMS

pairing — hwang in-ho/young-il x reader

synopsis — when screams and people being murdered during the night could be heard, in-ho finds himself staying close, protecting you from other players, especially from one who has constantly been nagging at you.

warnings — blood, violence, murder, swearing, age gap, 20’s reader, 40’s in-ho, spoilers for s2, ooc!in-ho, soft!in-ho, obsessive!in-ho, might have mistakes

wc — 1.5k

AN — made him a tad bit obsessive bc he’s hot

from the very moment in-ho had laid his eyes on you, he was taken aback. you seemed so delicate, pure, and everything just seemed good about you.

and that was when he promised himself he would look after you.

he would allow himself to get distracted by you, his sole purpose was to find out gi-hun’s plans but he would always manage to find ways to include you. especially in conversations that didn’t even relate to you.

yes, he knew it was unprofessional of him, favouriting a player when the games were supposed to be fair and equal but he can’t help himself when he would mouth off to the guards to give you extra food, he even had them pack you your favourite meal after he found out what it was the night before.

in-ho was becoming obsessed with you and he let it happen.

that night after another voting had been done which ended in a tie, a fight had broken out between the two sides. men came out from the bathroom with blood coating some of their tracksuits and in-ho watched as your eyebrows furrowed, that look you did that had him weak in the knees, making you look as if you were a kicked-aside puppy.

soon both teams were gathered on their own sides, the both of them counting down how many players they have.

“two out of five. that means they lost three people.” a girl informed you all, whilst another—player 380 spoke up.

“then we have a better shot at winning the vote tomorrow.”

“hey, it’s 48 against 47.” jung-bae whispered. “as long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote!” he exclaimed and everyone around you agreed quietly.

you glanced towards in-ho, or as you knew as ‘young-il’, and whispered to him, a smile plastered onto your face. “hey, we’ll be going home tomorrow��aren’t you excited?”

young-il snapped out of his gaze and looked back at you. there was silence before he smiled back and nodded. truthfully, in-ho couldn’t imagine letting you go, he would find you either way.

the PA voice spoke up along with the sound of a school-like bell ringing. “attention, please. lights out in 30 minutes. all players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”

after a few more words with everyone on your side, you all separated from each other. however, as the other group separated too, you could see them staring back at you all as they walked, gi-hun having noticed this as well.

you shivered and felt as your body slowly began feeling uncomfortable, but your hand was soon grabbed by young-il as he offered you a reassuring smile and walked with you.

before bedtime, you were sitting with your group as usual. “those bastards are acting suspicious. it’s like they’re up to something.” dae-ho began and you quickly nodded in agreement.

“right? they were staring at us the whole time when they walked past, gave me the shivers…” you mumbled as young-il patted your shoulder while jung-bae scoffed.

“whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it’ll all be over.”

“you think we’ll be okay? they say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier.”

you looked down and fiddled with your fingers before looking back up to gi-hun when he spoke. “once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us.”

in-ho watched as you did that face again. his heart thumping in his chest as he did, completely ignoring everyone else as they spoke.

“really?”

gi-hun nodded. “because if they kill us, they’ll be able to win the vote and increase the prize.”

“so what do we do?”

in-ho focused back on the conversation, shifting slightly before voicing his thoughts. “let’s attack them first. they’re probably thinking we’ll just wait for the second vote. we can use it to our advantage. we’ll attack them first once the lights go out.”

“that’s right. it’d be better to attack them first. we have more women and elderly on our side, if we get attacked we’ll be at a disadvantage. attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning.” 049 began with a player agreeing before gi-hun interrupted.

“we can’t do that.”

in-ho feigned confusion and stared at gi-hun. “but we have to get out of here. you said it yourself, saying calm won’t get us anywhere now.”

“that doesn’t mean we should kill each other. that’s exactly what they want us to do.”

furrowing your brows again, you leaned in a bit and looked at gi-hun with that confused look of yours. ““they?””

“those who created this game. those who watch us play. if we’re going to fight someone, it should be them.” he explained.

“where are they?”

gi-hun looked up causing the other players and you to do the same, except for in-ho. “up there.” he looked back at in-ho and continued. “on the upper levels are the rooms they control the games from. the man in the black mask is their leader. once we capture him, we’ll be able to win.”

in-ho pressed on, finally hearing gi-hun’s plans. “how are we going to fight them? they have guns.”

“we’ll fight them with guns too.”

“…um, but we don’t have any, mr gi-hun…”

gi-hun glanced at you and nodded. “we’ll take their guns.”

“from the masked men?”

gi-hun nodded again at the other player as in-ho spoke once again. “that’s too dangerous. even if we manage to take a few guns, we’ll still be outnumbered.”

“what then?” gi-hun retorted looking around at everyone whilst he continued. “are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? is that what you want, young-il?”

the two stared each other down before their attention was put onto hyun-ju. “do we…stand a chance?”

“we do if we catch them off guard. out of everyone, they’re the ones who would at least expect us to attack first.” you nodded along and listened. “this is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”

“how are you going to take their guns?”

you couldn’t help but think how serious young-il seemed, almost as if he was interrogating gi-hun.

“once the fight begins tonight, we’ll have our chance.”

“lights out in five minutes.”

a lullaby began playing from the speakers as the timer ticked, counting down the five minutes.

as soon as the lights turned off, young-il had taken your hand and got you underneath the bed.

screams erupted from your side and you flinched, staying close to young-il while covering your eyes.

it was dark and the screams didn’t help along with the sounds of people getting stabbed, a small whimper left you and young-il gently shushed you.

unbeknownst to both of you, a man who had been constantly harassing you as his way of ‘flirting’ noticed you underneath the bed and had dragged you out.

you screamed as a hand wrapped around your throat and tightened itself, the man in question wielding a broken piece of glass.

young-il’s eyes widened as he immediately got out from underneath the bed. “y/n!” he called out, a snarl leaving his lips as he caught sight of the man.

he punched the man and shoved him away, causing the man to let go of your neck and groan.

you breathed heavily and looked at young-il, watching as he managed to kick the man against the bunk beds.

“you fucking bastard!” the man exclaimed, getting up and charging at young-il with the shard of glass. he only managed to graze young-il with it before being pushed back again, young-il’s grip on the man’s hand was tight as he pushed the glass away from his face and out the players hand.

disarming the player, young-il swiftly bought the man back down, smashing the players head against the bunk bed frames as he did, repeating the same thing.

you looked away as you heard the man’s skull crack, a small groan leaving you before you looked back. “young-il, that’s enough!—”

young-il was completely focused on killing the man, he was already dead by this point but he was fuming with rage seeing the man’s hands wrapped around your neck.

only after a few seconds did young-il stop, dropping the man’s dead body on the ground, blood quickly pouring from the wound. his head was smashed in and the blood covered young-il’s clothes and face.

he breathed heavily before looking back at you, grabbing your hands and bringing you back underneath the bed. “are you alright?” he asked, concern laced in his voice and you nodded.

despite the fact that you’ve just seen this man kill another you couldn’t help but find him more attractive—he did kill the man for you after all…

young-il let out a sigh of relief and you gently caressed his face, a small cut on his cheek from the glass. “your cheek…”

he blushed lightly before letting out a chuckle, grabbing at your hands again. “i’ll be fine, just a small graze, no?”

hesitantly nodding, you stayed close to young-il, his presence almost making you forget that there were people getting murdered just above you.

he kissed your knuckles and wrapped an arm around you. he’ll never let you get hurt and he’ll kill any bastard who even tries to hurt you.

[v-eee]

── jungkook x you

scenario: you and Jungkook used to be best friend until new female staff came into his workplace, Jieun. He has introduced you to her. Jungkook starts getting busy with his work and often cancel the usual food hunting night with you because he needs to work overtime with Jieun. You know Jieun doesn't like you because she has come to your cafe a few times and told you to stop texting Jungkook during his work hour. when you told him about that, he didn't believe you. Starting that day your friendship is not like it used to be.

(iii)

The next day, Jungkook woke up with a tight knot in his chest. He checked his phone first thing.

Last night he texted you asking if he can have a lunch or dinner with you. No reply from you last night, today he woke up hoping for a reply from you. But nothing.

He stared at the screen, debating whether to text you again. Finally, he typed:

'Y/N, please let me know when you're free.'

He waited, the minutes dragging into hours. By the afternoon, there was still no response.

At work, his mind was all over the place. Even Jieun noticed his distracted state, but he kept their conversations short, avoiding her entirely when he could.

By evening, still no reply. His chest felt heavier with every passing moment.

Jungkook headed to your café after work.

When he arrived, he was hoping to see you working behind the counter, but his heart sank when a staff member—not you—greeted him.

"Hey, is Y/N here?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The barista shook her head. "Oh, she’s not around. She’s out of town for a few weeks—work-related. Can I help you with something?"

Jungkook blinked, stunned. "Out of town? When did she leave?"

"Uh, she supposed to left tomorrow but she got an urgent call and left this early morning."

Jungkook nodded slowly, mumbling a quick, “Thanks.” He stepped out of the café, the cold evening air hitting him harder than he expected.

You were gone. You normally will tell him if you go to other places, you always sharing what you did or new things you found with him. But he had been so focused with work, project with Jieun.

Few weeks ago, you still trying to text or call him, he is the one who's too busy and often delaying his reply to you. And now when he's looking for you, you are not even in the same town.

He gets into his car, sitting down heavily. He pulled out his phone again and stared at your name in his contacts.

'Y/N, I heard you’re out of town for work. I didn’t know. I… I hope everything’s going well. Let me know when you’re back, okay? I really want to talk.'

He sent the message and leaned back, closing his eyes. The guilt was almost suffocating. He had pushed you away, doubted you, and now he might not even have the chance to apologize properly.

All he could do was wait and hope you’d let him back into your life when the time came.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

[Rach: Why didn’t you get his number?] Iris: The entire conversation was five minutes. He was gone before I even thought about it. Besides, I spent half the time talking to his dog. He probably thought I was a weirdo.

[Rach: If he’s a dog person, he probably loved it.] Iris: Who knows. [Rach: Do you think you’ll run into him again?] Iris: Doubt it. I’m here almost every morning and I’ve never seen him before. He was just in the area for the vet clinic.

[Rach: Hmm. So, in theory, if you do see him again, it’s because he’s hoping to run into you.] Iris: [scoffs] Yeah, I’m not gonna hold my breath.

Iris: Shit. [Rach: What?] Iris: He’s here. What do I do? [Rach: Um, hang up the phone and go say hi?] Iris: Right. Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.

Iris: Hi. Ezra: Good morning. Iris: How’d Milo’s appointment go? Ezra: Great, he got a clean bill of health. More importantly, you were right about the biscuits, he was very happy. Iris: [smiles] Good.

Barista: What can I get for you? Ezra: An oat milk latte… and whatever she’s having. Iris: Oh, um, a macchiato.

Iris: Why did you do that? Ezra: It’s just a thing I do sometimes, buying coffee for the person behind me. Iris: [skeptical] Why?

Ezra: [shrugs] To brighten their day, and hope they’ll pay it forward. Iris: Making the world a better place, one coffee at a time? Ezra: Something like that.

Iris: You should be careful about that. Ezra: How so? Iris: You might give someone the wrong impression. You don’t want them thinking you’re interested if you’re not.

Ezra: I’ll admit, I am usually more discreet about it than I was today. Iris: Oh? Ezra: I have some time before I have to be to work. I was thinking about grabbing a table outside and enjoying the nice weather if you’d like to join me. Iris: Um… sure. I have about thirty minutes to spare. Ezra: I’ll take it.

--

Iris: So, what do you do, Ezra? Ezra: I’m a teacher. Brindleton Bay High. Iris: [sarcastic] Go Huskies. Ezra: [laughs] Right.

Iris: Did you go to that school? Ezra: No, I just moved here a few years ago. Iris: That’s good. I don’t trust people who choose to work at the same high school they went to. Ezra: Why’s that?

Iris: Too many memories. Seems you’d be haunted by the past every time you walked down the halls. Personally, I don’t think I could ever step foot in that building again. Ezra: You were a husky? Iris: [nods] Born and raised in the Bay. Ezra: There are worse places.   Iris: I suppose.

Iris: What do you teach? Ezra: Biology. Tenth Grade. Iris: Yikes. Must be awful. Ezra: You’d think so, but I love it.  

Iris: Hm. Tell me, do you still make kids dissect frogs? Ezra: Every year. Iris: Horrific. Ezra: Let me guess, you were one of the students that refused, taking a moral stance?

Iris: Oh, I didn’t just refuse, I organized a protest. Got half the school to walk out. We were on the local news. Ezra: You were quite the activist. Iris: Hardly. I was just bored. And I was trying to get the attention of a boy I liked who happened to be vegan.

Ezra: Did it work? Iris: It did, for a while. Ezra: What happened? Iris: He caught me devouring a hamburger at the mall with my friends. Turns out I’m not cut out for the long con.

Ezra: I’d say that’s a good thing. Unless you’ve improved since then? Iris: No. I gave up on lying. It’s exhausting. If anything, I’m too honest. People don’t like it, but [shrugs]. Ezra: I like honesty. Iris: Me too.

Iris: Shit, you get oat milk in your latte. You’re not vegan, are you? Ezra: No, just lactose intolerant. Iris: Thank god. Not that I’d care if you were, but I have a habit of saying the wrong thing and I worried I’d embarrassed myself. Ezra: No no, not at all.

Iris: Good. Well, um, thank you for the coffee. I have to go or I’m going to be late for work. Ezra: Wait, you didn’t tell me what you do. Iris: I guess we’ll have to do this again tomorrow then. That is, unless you’re secretly married, in which case, I’m not interested in some weird coffeeshop affair. Ezra: [laughs] No. Divorced, and very much single.

Iris: In that case, if tomorrow goes well, I might let you ask me out on a proper date.

[rainintheevening]

I mean... think about it. Who does Banquo love the best after his son? Who does he trust the most, and confide in, and tell endless stories of to his wide-eyed son? Who would be the most important person Fleance would know to run to, should anything go awry?

He's maybe 12, coming back to the palace with his father after a long ride, all pink cheeks and tired but happy, and still thrilled that his father is the closest friend of the new king, and they're staying at the palace now. He takes the torch to light their way down the path from the gate, because he always carries the torch for his father.

His father remarks there will be rain tomorrow.

And then the rush, the torch knocked from his hand and gone out, the scraping of steel as his father tries to draw his sword, and Fleance reaches for his dagger, but the shadows are hulking and his father is shouting over the attackers grunts and complaints. "Fly, fly, fly!" he cries, and the boy obeys.

He knows who to run to for help, he knows who he can trust. He knows how brave and fierce a warrior Macbeth is. So he runs, small and slim, and sure-footed even in the dark.

He does not hear the death gurgle, though his own fear chokes him, knowing his father is probably dead, hoping with the wild hope of youth that Banquo can fight, can fend them off long enough, until Macbeth should come. He doesn't know how many more attackers there might be, he can't be sure they won't come after him. So he skitters off the path, weaves through the trees, trying to remember where the side entrances are, thinking he should slip in through the kitchens. He can't trust anyone until he gets to Macbeth, until Macbeth knows. Macbeth will protect him.

So he slips and he sneaks through the dark, through the doors, taking the round-about way even if it's longer, moving fast, thinking forward, only ahead, not back, he can't think back, not now. There's a feast on, he and his father were supposed to be guests of honour at it. But now the food smells make him nauseous. He skulks through the shadows of the scullery, catching snippets of chatter from the servants: the meal is being served, the feast is gathered, the king is in the hall.

Scottish castles aren't much for decoration, not even the king's, but there's enough people coming and going for him to slip through, and he takes refuge against a chest in a corner, trying to catch his breath, trying to listen for Macbeth's voice. He thinks that voice will mean safety, will mean rescue.

He hears the murderer's rough voice first, and his heart near stops with terror. They've come after him, they'll find him, they'll kill him too. His fingers tremble as he wraps them around his dagger hilt, remembering his father's plea to avenge him. And he determines to take at least one man with him. He doesn't hear Macbeth's approach, or he may have leapt up with a wild determination to save at least Macbeth from the killers.

The first thing he hears from Macbeth is quick, anxious, so much so he's not quite sure it is Macbeth. "There's blood on thy face."

He's gone still, so still, stiller than a rabbit under the eye of a hound, he does not even blink, because the voice is right above him now, both of the voices...

"Oh, tis Banquo's then."

Father...

"Well, better you without than he within. Is he dispatched then?"

"I cut his throat myself. But the son is fled."

The son is fled, yes, the son is fled to sit by and hear his father's best and dearest companion delight in his father's murder, and wish for the son's death. The son is fled to the shadows he thought would protect him, but he sits in the shadow of death.

He doesn't blink or twitch or even breathe for what seems a long time.

When he comes back to himself, the banquet is prepared, everyone is in the feast hall, where he can hear Macbeth's voice. The kindling of rage sparks in Fleance, and he draws his dagger, rising from his shadowed corner, suddenly uncaring for his own life, when none better than Judas stands in the other room. But he looks up, and... he would speak but he cannot, for he thinks he sees his father standing there, over by the stairs, shaking his head, and there's blood all down his shirt, but he's looking at his son, and Fleance can hear the words as if in distant echo—Fly, fly, fly!

Fleance is a dutiful son, he loves his father more than anyone else in the world, he will do what his father commands. So he sheathes the dagger. He slides back into the shadows, and fancies the shadow of Banquo follows him. (They are the lights relegated to the shadows, reduced to flickers.)

In the quiet stables (grooms away to their own supper) gathering the saddle, hands slipping over his father's handsome seat, seeing Banquo's sweet grey mare nicker at him, his hands begin to shake.

In the distance the hue and cry is raised, but he does not hear, for he is weeping suddenly, stumbling to Thistledown's side to cling to her neck, before he turns away and is violently sick.

No one hears him, no one finds him.

He takes Thistledown, rather than his own pony. Somehow he cannot bear to leaver her behind, as if she might be next for Macbeth to want dead. They ride out into the night, a chill rain blowing in from the east, and covering their passage. The boy has only his plaid, his dagger, his flint, a bit of bread and a small skin of wine pillaged from a groom's things, and heart breaking under the weight of betrayal and loss and loneliness.

He does not know where to go now. He knows he can never return. He knows he will survive.