#Park jonggun

[vinjinssunglasses]

Hi hi! I just read your Kim gitae relationship headcanons/summary and wow I loved it so much😩pretty please could I have the same thing for gun??🙏🏻

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♯┆character jonggun park x reader ♯┆summary __ in a relationship w you part 4 or wha ♯┆w/c 1.7k ♯┆cw mildly suggestive, body image ♯┆genre fluff + angst, no happiness for bro😭🙏 ♯┆a/n tysm for requesting!! cute theme but there’s nothing cute about this i love this divider why is it adorable 😭 2am, I didn’t edit properly 😭

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⚝・┆ Jonggun loves when you let him rest his head upon your chest, wrapping his arms around you as he basks in the love he never was able to receive while growing up. The warmth of your kisses resonates inside of him, as it allows him to finally lower the guards he was taught to always put up, resting in your arms like a baby. How selfish were this clan to punish a little black kitty like him? How he curls up in your arms and kisses you with a small, playful smile on his lips, you can’t imagine someone doing that to him. Those charcoal eyes that were taught to intimidate and glare with disinterest, showing a hint of sparkle that left you with hope. I’m sorry, Gun. You know it’s not your fault, yet a hint of guilt rests inside you.

⚝・┆ Very traditional. Your wedding will be one of luxury, expensive wine and the sort. He’ll make sure it’s the most grand day of your life, spending it with you with a smile plastered on his face. He showers you with kisses, despite the fact the venue seems to be quite empty. Gun has never had much friends and family, apart from Goo, yet you had the world. It didn’t take long for him to feel jealous that you had so many people to care about, while he lay in the middle of the night with tears and choked sobs, with no contacts on his phone to call. Except yours. You knew he felt this way, you could see it written on his face. Of course you could tell, you were his fiance, no, wife, after all. That’s why you were here to distract him from it all - you wanted to be the person he would call first when he needed it most. The person by his side to the end of his days he spent together with you in happiness.

Perhaps that’s why you said ‘yes’ to that ring, engraved with yours and his initials. Ms. Yamazaki. That name written on your legal documents made you smile. That man, made you smile, cry and laugh everyday.

⚝・┆ Gun reminds you so much of a little black kitty. Black cats are filigrane and intelligent, affectionate yet keep their keen personality, perceptive of their surroundings. They’re good-natured and calm, tolerant of others. Loving and they love to cuddle and play, and are introverted creatures. On the other hand, a black cat is often associated with bad luck, and death. Bad luck, and death. Maybe it was all inevitable. First, his cousin, his dad and his mother. Death runs in the family, so shall he loose you too? Will you also die at the hands of a selfish, idealistic man, too? No, it’s a thought he can’t bear to let occupy his mind anymore, yet there’s nowhere to blow the steam. After all, it’s better not to worry you and silence all these conflicting thoughts. Shoved to the back of his mind, they bubble to the front uninvited, swarming around his head like bees to honey. On a fun note, these cats spend more time in solace and being philosophical. Spending time in solace will stop the bad luck he emits from spreading, right? But then why cant he keep himself away from you. The bad luck he was born with will spread like the plague, just like it did to his family. Knowing this, he loves you too much to let you go. It’s another one of his selfish wishes, isn’t it?

⚝・┆ He wants to experience the world as you see it — stargazing, food, TV shows. Jonggun just wants to see the world with you after struggling with himself for so long. Being born left him with a cruel fate ahead, and he explored what his parents left him with such tears then left him almost apathetic. Life had no meaning left until, cheesy enough, he met you. Gun never fails to remind how much of an impact you’ve had on him, reminding you how much he values you. Just looking at his baby pictures leaves you with a feeling you can’t put into words. Is it guilt, anger or remorse? Why do you feel so guilty you couldn’t be there to shield him from this cruel world? It pains you how inevitable the world is.

⚝・┆ He loves caring for you, making sure you never had to lift a finger. Jonggun never had someone to properly care him mentally as a child, so if he could let you sit back and relax, and treat you how he wished he were treated, he would pour his heart into it all. He’d never want you to experience the loneliness and pure grief he once experienced, even if he’d never admit how much it meant to him.

⚝・┆ Personally I believe he’s a hands-on kind of guy, although he’d never admit it. Delicate kisses upon your lips, hands around you while he stares ever so lovingly into your eyes. His charcoal-like eyes that was made to scrutinise and intimidate, was now experience true love. Love that he’s never experienced like this before, that now he’s willing to comprehend such a new topic, giving it his all if it’s for you. His hands are always resting upon your body, lips always nearing yours as his eyes are practically unable to stop tracking them. When you speak, they watch every parting and shaping as you arrange words, just wanting to shut you up with a passionate kiss. Jonggun just wants to hold you in his arms, feeling your warm breath upon his neck as he tangles his fingers within your hair. Is that so selfish to ask?

⚝・┆To him it’s so strange how he’s so smitten with you. To others, he’d act so cold and secretive, only dispensing bitter stares and passive aggressive gestures with remarks that make anyone furious. When he looks at you, he’s unable to hold back a smile, eyes sparking with the warmth of his heartbeat increasing. Suddenly, he can tolerate the momentum of someone’s endless talking and continuous energy, constant need for attention and the warmth of their body against his own. Jonggun has always hated being touched, yet when it came to you, he can’t even keep himself away.

⚝・┆When he first caught feelings for you, he was the first to deny it. Got so many years he’s learnt to push back these emotions, making way only for the passion of fighting, and your first to not encourage him to do so. You’re the first to kiss him like you mean it, cradle him in your arms while you whisper sweet nothings. It wasn’t long until he caught feelings. And it wasn’t long until he couldn’t accept the truth. When he was around you, he noticed hos heart beating faster than usual, with a feeling he couldn’t just figure out. A smile always snuck upon his lips, however he wouldn’t notice until you’d say his smile is so cute and he should wear it more often, to which he’d blush and cover his face. In the rare occasion your hands would even brush against the others, he wouldn’t help but scowl and face the other way, imagining all types of possibilities. What if he held your hand, how would you react? What if he told you he’s loved you all this time? Loved the way you smile, talk, walk.. would you hate him after that? It’s such a new yet blissful feeling inside him, that he wants to blurt out, but something inside is stopping him - the fear of rejection. The overwhelming looming feeling of you ruthlessly rejecting him stabs him in the heart like a sharp knife.

⚝・┆Jonggun is the type to embrace your every curve, praising your body as if you were a goddess. Let it not be that he finds out you’re insecure about a certain part of your body — stretch marks, the way your hip dips, overweight or underweight, the list continues — because he’ll almost faint from the shock. He loves every part of you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing about you. So seeing you so hooked on a particular part of your body, wishing you could change yourself, hes frustrated.

His hands run down your body, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“I love you, each and every part of you. You’re beautiful. You’re my ideal woman, and I don’t care what anybody else thinks.” Gun whispers into your ear, playfully biting upon it. When his calloused fingers reaches back up to your hips, he pauses. “Please. Don’t tell yourself otherwise. Your beauty is one of Aphrodites.”

“But I hate the way it looks.” You murmur closing your eyes, unable to bear the sight the unforgiving mirror reflects upon you. That body of yours, you hated it. From head to toe, you wished you could be somebody else. Anybody else, and their body would look better than the one so selfishly put on you from birth. Being in this skin made you want to peel it all off, stitching scientifically made plastic onto your skin to be the Marilyn Monroe of your dreams.

Jonggun turns your chin to look at him, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I find you beautiful. I love the way your curves fit in my palm, the way your skin feels against mine, you hear me?”

He turns you around, leading you onto the mattress, positioning himself in between your thighs. Gun’s lands upon your breasts. Your body sinks into the sheets, eyes fixated on his movements. He looks down upon you with an almost sorrowful face, eyebrows curled into one of worry, lips pouting like a dog who can’t find its human. In all honesty, he’s upset. Why can’t you love yourself as much as he loves you? This body of yours is so delicate, that he loves exploring and splaying his hands all over. It’s like a statue made to admire and inspire. Your body is a temple, from head to toe we were all made as perfect. It tears him apart

“There’s so need to be insecure, I love your shoulders..,” they move further down to your hips. “I love the way I can hold onto these when I make love with you. I move the way my hands wrap around you. It’s as if your body was made to fit into my palms.”

“Please,” he begs, placing kisses upon your cheeks, all leading to your lips, eager for his touch. “I want you to.. love yourself, as much I love you. You have no, no fucking clue how much I value you. That pretty face of yours..” He murmurs, a chocked sob escaping him. Jonggun’s better than this, to cry over such a rivial matter. Yet the impact burned through him, reaching his darkest crevices. He needs you, and he doesn’t want to admit it. How come, after always being so apathetic, has he came so sympathetic to another human being, even weeping pathetically for them? For crying out loud, please. Let yourself be you, you’re not the girls on the television, you’re so much better than them.

[amara555555]

Something wholesome (or sad idk) because of crippling anxiety and how im procrastinating my assignments:

Sunshine

Gun x daughter reader:

“Daddy can you tie my shoelace?”

Those words had Jonggun’s mind in a blank. Tie her shoe laces? His mind suddenly aware of how his childhood was a ways ahead different than the one he tried to give his child, nothing ever pushed him towards the anger that he had sustained or the coldness he endured, the force of individuality, coldness, expectations, pain, and neglected before being smuggling into a different country by the age of 12.

He watched his little girl pout up at him embarrassed and shy, something so small could enlist a reaction of his little girl but he still couldn’t hold onto an ounce of emotion without it puffing into smoke. Leaving himself once again, numb, alone, inhumane.

It felt foreign how she was confidently asking him for a favour he would’ve been expected to know younger than her age. However he couldn’t shed the instinct to respond to her beck and call so quickly.

He blinked and lowered himself to her level before silently tying them meanwhile she hummed and busied her fingers by playing in his dark hair.

He finished her loops before securing them with a double knot then looking up back at her big doe eyes and rosey cheeks, all centred around a tiny button nose.

Perfect. His perfection. Everything he wasn’t . The stark contrast of her pigtails, playful eyes and pinky outfits, childish nail polish and little bits of glitter and stick on diamonds on her face, Childish. Meanwhile he’d be clad in darker colours, feel the blood of others dry upon his skin, his knuckles busted and hair gelled back in maturity. Grown up. She raised a brow and blinked.

“You look sad.”

Something so Perceptive for someone so young. She grew up too fast for him to realise, yet she still remained a baby in his heart. Yet he still felt a numbness towards the past, however within the time frame of his child’s birth he’d felt….something akin to the ray of sunshine, that comforting and gentle caress of love.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his parents noticed his growth? Did they feel this caress of tender affection? The swirling of love stir a reaction of warmth for a little person they created? He didn’t know. Not that he could ask anymore. He kept his eyes on her before responding.

“I have a lot on my mind right now.”

She perked up.

“Are we gonna rant together?!”

He smirked.

“You go first.”

He didn’t know how hard it would be to raise a child but he’d destroy himself before dropping into the standards he’d been raised by.

[jonggunkitten]

⚠️ spoiler 530

finally we get to see another panel of him with the normal(?) eyes😻😻

he looks kinda older in the last pict tho

[qyuubu]

gun is used to the dull ache. he doesn’t know where it comes from, or what it even is in the first place. but he can live with it. he’s been living it. he’s fine.

but on rare occasions, something overpowers this ache. a hot, intense, rage.

well, not exactly.

it’s also a mix of hurt, and maybe a dash of longing. why would they both die for him? why couldn’t they be the parents he needed long ago? why now, when he’s all grown and hardened up?

that burning feeling almost seeps into the red lacerations on his body, into the cracks of his ache and continues to torment him everyday, until he’s used to it.

he’s just fine, really. it’s the pain that keeps him going. he briefly considered ending it all honorably, but gun’s just a kid. he wants to live, and the mysterious ache pushes him to feel more aches. the more hurt he is, the more drive he has. a tingling sensation that pushes his limbs to get up everyday and find more reasons to ache.

one day, he finds himself looking over at goo. a man who would likely never die for him. goo could die BECAUSE of gun, but not for him.

and that thought doesn’t hurt, for once. gun doesn’t feel his new lacerations from goo’s sword carry any sort of burden that one day, goo will die and gun had the responsibility of living on in his stead. all it carries is the slashes of a like-minded man and his sentiments. a fighter for the love of the game.

he doesn’t feel the guilt of what could have been whenever he stares at the scars goo made.

whatever goo stirred up in gun is unlike anything he’s ever known—sharp, alien, and borderline unwelcome. there's something strange, almost alive, crawling under his skin. he'll lock it away where no one can find it.

but if it stays out of his work, he’ll allow himself this reckless indulgence.

[dotxyy]

They took away his shoes😭😭

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: Regret

519 spoiler! G/N. Jail visit, but it's you. Don't worry it's soft. Masterlists

Gun refused to see you, at first.

If you didn't know better, you thought it might have been due to some misguided sense of chivalry. A romantic might have suggested that he didn't want to drag you down with him. At least you still have your freedom while he rots away in prison.

Yet you know he's always been cold, even with you sometimes. This is how he is. If he didn't want to see you, he didn't want to see you. There's very little depth to it.

Then he accepted your visitation.

After numerous times of you requesting, after you were about to give up hope. You're not sure what surprised you the most - your persistence or the fact that he gave in first.

Gun looks-

Well. Gun looks like Gun. (Bruised and bandaged though he is usually bruised and bandaged.)

Handsome. Confident. You hate how well the blue jumpsuit fits his strong frame. Even imprisoned, he still sits like a king on a throne. A ruler blessed with divine right.

You look him in the eyes, pitch black once more with startling white irises. Looking and looking as if the plastic screen wasn't standing between you; a tangible divider between the free and the caged (although you're not sure, if Gun really tried, how well it would hold)-

And could have sworn you saw a flash of regret.

You're not entirely sure what to think. You thought you knew him.

Gun Park isn't one to regret anything. Always weighed up the risks and rewards, took calculated gambles, understood the consequences.

Yet-

Even as he sits there - silent, larger than life, a powerful, dangerous presence-

You think it's regret.

A foreign, new expression that you haven't seen him wear before.

Certainty slams home when his gaze flickers to your fingers and his hand reaches out on reflex before tensing almost imperceptibly and retreating. You would have missed it if you weren't watching him so closely.

It’s definitely regret.

You think you might also regret the next words you say, though your heart and mind has been made up a long time ago.

"I'll wait for you."

They're the only words you tell him today. The only words you tell him for a long time.

His eyes widen and he says nothing when you stand to leave.

"I'll wait for you." You tell him once more, and this time he wears a ghost of a smile instead. 

[locomoqo]

haiii!!! i may have spent the rest of my time reading all your works🥲🥲 and is it okay to request Girl Dad! jake,goo and gun reacting to their baby just blabbering and them going on with it like “yeah i know right” “that’s so true”

thank you!! (also take ur time since it looks like you have alot on ur plate atm💕💕)

sweet talk

ft. Gun Park, Goo Kim & Jake Kim x f!reader [separate]

details: fluff, established relationship (married)

A/N: I SAW THIS AND I WAS LIKE OH I HAVE TO DO THISSS ITS SO SAUR CUTEEEE YIEEE THANK YOU ANON FOR THIS REQ mweheh i love reqs like these

ᯓ★—GUN

Gun worked swiftly, slicing the apples with precision. He glanced over at his baby girl in her seat, her wide eyes tracking his every move as he sliced through each piece. You were down with a fever, leaving him to not only take care of you but also to manage his curious, babbling daughter.

He held up a bunny-shaped apple slice, presenting it to her with a slight smirk. Her reaction was immediate—eyes lighting up as she reached out, tiny fingers stretching toward the apple. “You like the bunny?” he asked as she took it and clumsily tried to nibble on it, ending up with more drool than bites.

Gun shook his head with a faint smile, but just as he turned back to finish the apple slices, she banged her chubby hands on the tray, her little mouth opening in a string of excited babbles.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, tilting his head as she bounced in her seat, one hand gripping the bunny slice like a prized possession while the other pointed insistently at the plate.

“These are for mommy,” he explained, trying to hold his ground, but she only babbled louder, waving her free hand around as if to insist.

Gun sighed, glancing at the bunny-shaped slice she held, and then at the other slices on the plate. “You want all of them like this?” he muttered, looking back at her. “You think mommy would like it, huh?”

“Mamamama!” she gurgled happily, slapping her tiny hands against the tray again, clearly delighted at his consideration.

Gun chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine, you win.” He picked up another apple slice, carefully cutting it into another bunny shape. His daughter watched, entranced, and when he showed her the new bunny, she squealed with delight.

As he worked, Gun continued to talk to her, more to keep her entertained than anything. “Think mommy’s going to like the bunnies?” he mused out loud, and she responded with a babble, as if offering her very serious opinion on the matter.

After finishing, he arranged the bunny-shaped slices neatly on the plate, giving one last glance to his daughter, who had finally managed a small nibble on her slice. “Well, if it makes you two happy…” he muttered with a small, barely-there smile, carrying his daughter in one arm and the plate in his other hand to bring a little joy to his sick wife.

With his daughter happily babbling away at her “help” and his own satisfaction at his work.

ᯓ★—GOO

Goo strolled through the house with his baby girl snuggled in her carrier, her tiny feet kicking as she took in everything with wide, curious eyes. Every few steps, she’d babble something, and Goo would gasp dramatically, as if she’d just shared the most incredible news.

“Oh, really?” he chuckled, bouncing her gently. “You’re just full of stories today, aren’t you?”

They paused in the hallway when she started reaching out, her little hand stretching toward a framed photo on the wall. It was a candid picture of Goo and you, both smiling on your wedding day. She babbled louder, smacking her little hand against the photo, clearly fascinated.

“Oh-ho! You found mama and dada, huh?” Goo teased, leaning closer to the picture so she could get a better look. She gurgled, waving her hands at the frame, and Goo’s grin grew. “You like that, huh? That’s ‘cause mama’s in it. She’s the pretty one, right? Dada’s just the one making her laugh.”

“Umwa, mwaamama!” she let out a string of babbles, and Goo put on a look of mock surprise. “You think she’s prettier than me? Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” he said, feigning hurt. “I’ll let that one slide since you’re my favorite girl.”

His daughter’s little noises filled the hall, and he grinned, nodding like she’d made the smartest observation. “Ohhh, you think I got lucky, huh? You got that right, sweetie. Lucky, lucky, lucky,” he chuckled. “And look at you, you’re her little twin! Same smile, same cute face… except you got daddy’s charm, don’t you?” he added with a wink, booping her nose.

Another babble.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, nodding as though they were having a full-blown conversation. “She’s smart, tough, and—well, let’s just say she’s got me wrapped around her finger. And you… you’re just like her, you know? Gonna grow up and be just as amazing.”

He paused, caught off guard by his own words, blinking in surprise as he felt a weird flutter in his chest. “Whoa, that was... okay, that was a little too sentimental,” he muttered, looking down at his daughter, who just blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Ugh, daddy went full cringe mode for a second there. Ignore that, okay?”

But she just babbled back, and Goo groaned playfully, rolling his eyes. “Oh, great, you’re telling mama? You’re ratting dada out for being sappy? Unbelievable,” he said before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

ᯓ★—JAKE

Jake rocked his crying little girl in his arms, gently swaying back and forth as he tried every trick he could think of to calm her down. He bounced her, hummed softly, even gave her that little “shh-shh-shh” that sometimes worked like magic. But today? Not a chance. Her babbling came between tiny, hiccupping sobs, and he leaned down to look at her with a gentle smile, brushing a thumb softly across her chubby cheek.

“Someone’s got a lot to say,” he murmured, his voice soft. “Tell me, princess, what’s wrong? You hungry?” He shifted her in his arms, bouncing her lightly. “Or are you just giving daddy a little piece of your mind?”

His daughter’s cries softened for a moment, only to pick back up again with another babble. Jake widened his eyes, nodding as if he fully understood her complaints. “Ah, I see, I see,” he replied, nodding seriously. “So it’s the blanket, huh? Not soft enough? Or was it the bottle? Too warm? Too cold? Man, this is complicated.”

She let out another babble-cry, tiny fists reaching up to grab onto his shirt as if she were clinging to her last hope. He chuckled, taking her tiny hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her fingers. “Alright, I get it, princess. You’re not mad. Just… sharing some feedback, right? I respect that.”

She let out a series of softer babbles, staring up at him with watery eyes, and Jake leaned forward, pressing his forehead lightly to hers. “Yeah, I’m listening. Go on, get it all out. Daddy’s right here.”

With each little sound she made, Jake nodded along, pretending to take mental notes. “Oh, so it’s my singing you’re not a fan of? I thought it was pretty good—so did mommy, but maybe I need some pointers from the expert,” he whispered, winking. “And the rocking chair? Too slow, right? Got it, I’ll add that to daddy’s list.”

She continued to babble, and he kept going along with it, his voice taking on a playful tone. “And here I thought daddy was nailing it, huh? Guess I still have a lot to learn from the boss.”

She let out a few more babbling sounds, her tone shifting like she was calming down, and Jake continued, nodding sympathetically. “And on top of that, maybe you missed mommy a little too, right? Thought she’d be here, didn’t you?” He gave her a warm smile, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. 

Finally, her cries faded into little hiccups, her big eyes staring up at him. Jake let out a soft laugh, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “See? You just needed someone to listen. Don’t worry, princess—I’ll always be here, taking notes and making sure everything’s just right.”

His daughter cooed softly, finally content, her tiny fingers clutching his shirt as she nestled closer. Jake let out a relieved sigh, pulling her closer.

[jkmc]

are u ok kid?

[deldotpng]

kendama

[vynnyll]

Boyfriend material (ft. Gun Park)

Other characters in this series: Jake Kim | Samuel Seo | Goo Kim

— Featured: Gun Park x fem!reader — T.W: possessive actions (?) — A/N: Though I said that I hate him before, I still can't help falling for this walking red flag, lol. This is the consequence of thinking about him 24/7.

✮ Would be a great listener. Could definitely hear you rambling all day.

✮ As "nutrition is also important," you'll be pleased with a full stomach of homemade dishes from him daily.

✮ Would be overprotective towards you but still teach you some fundamental moves in order to defend yourself in case he is not around.

✮ Would love to have you in his arms at the end of the day.

✮ Would love to lay his head on your chest/belly/thighs.

✮ Would find it adorable to see your smaller figure overwhelmed by his large-sized shirt. He buys lots of such things just for you to wear (not for him, because he loves being half-naked when he's at home).

✮ Would love to buy you something revealing and see you wear it, but only for him to admire, not for other men to observe.

✮ Would leave love bites/hickeys on your exposed areas to mark you after your intimate time together. Conversely, he also loves to get his back scratched, a good way of showing he is taken.

✮ Would keep your relationship lowkey to protect you (although he is confident that you are the safest person in the world when you're with him).

✮ Wouldn't be able to spend time with you 24/7 (because he's busy with Charles Choi's shit) but always make sure that you get whatever you want.

✮ Wouldn't smoke when you are around.

✮ Wouldn't let you dress in anything inexpensive. Likes to buy you something from renowned designer brands or custom-made outfits.

✮ Wouldn't show much affection in public but is willing to hold your hand, carry your stuff, place his hand behind your back, etc.

✮ Wouldn't allow you to be out alone during the late hours.

✮ Acts-of-service type of man. Wouldn't be able to say he loves you on a daily basis but is willing to do anything for you.

✮ Also loves to devote quality time to being together. Wouldn't spend his days off without you.

✮ Wouldn't call you by pet names, but sometimes you might hear "princess" or "babe."

✮ Used to fool around, but once he stepped into a relationship, you're the one and only for him as he treasures loyalty.

[sweetmctart]

in another life. another day. i hope we live differently

[jonggunkitten]

⚠️ 530

gun has to see both of his parents died in front of his eyes🥲

and you know what? Both ALSO because of shintaro. damn that uncle

[qyuubu]

ptj pushing the googun agenda one post at a time iktr!!!

out here setting the record STRAIGHT.

[dotxyy]

MORE NO-UI GUN

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

.

.

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

.

.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

.

.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

.

.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

.

.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

.

.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

.

.

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

.

.

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

.

.

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

.

.

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :) 

.

.

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

.

.

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

.

.

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class." 

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 

.

.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

.

.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

.

.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

[koiiiji]

since nobody asked anything in comment section in THIS post i decided to came up with something by myself. now i know you little rogues not reading author notes🤨

Nightly Rituals

LOOKISM & WINDBREAKER BOYS WHILE YOU DOING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE BEFORE BED

Gun

Park Jung Gun likes your presence in his apartments, it’s always little bit more warmer and cozy with you. Especially he likes time before bed, and both of you small routines. well, he could call his routine small - just stealing some incomprehensible bottles from you, he doesn’t bother his head to read it, as long as it seems to smooth his skin he use it! also, maybe reading some book or answering to forgotten messages while he waiting for you from the shower - that’s his usual routine before bed.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

author’s note ; okay now serious topic, empty blogs, pls update at least something in your blogs - age, some info like “here for fics/reblogs/etc/“ or at least some pfp, otherwise i will recognize you as bot blogs and will block you, thank u!