#but they take care of you and give you food

[yourlocalangeldoll]

squid game x/twitter p links

♡ Characters: Thanos / Player 230, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Min su / Player 125, Jun ho

ᝰ Thanos / Player 230

Toxic!Thanos and reader

Holding you up

Trying to show you how sorry he is after he fucked up

Softer days with Thanos and Nam Gyu

Saw you and all your tattoos at one of his rap battles and knew he was gonna bring you home that night

First time threesome between Thanos, you and Se-mi

ᝰ Nam-gyu / Player 124

Sometimes he prefers his thrusts to be rough ‘n deep instead of fast

Anal for the first time and he was nice enough to be more gentle 💞

Literally so Nam Gyu coded, he loves to make you squirt, he doesn’t even care of you’re overstimulated. At some point he’ll just force you up and fuck you himself

it’s giving dark!Nam Gyu 🤭

Nam Gyu on the bottom and Thanos on top

Videos he takes of you everytime after he fucks you

ᝰ Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Softdom!Dae-ho with a breeding kink who can’t help but fuck his cum back into you after he breeds you

Soft morning after sex since you two can’t keep your hands off eachother

Milking a cute subby big boy 😮‍💨

Literally so Dae-ho coded oml, the way he holds her back?? hello???

Finally agreed to let you peg him and let’s just say it felt better than he thought it would

Videos you send him when you miss him 💞

He loves to Make out with your tits

You’re always a pillow princess with him(or he is at times)

��� Min-su / Player 125

Pathetic aff

He has such a sensitive tip 💞💞

Double the pleasure for such a good boy

Baby was just trying to cook some food </3

pegging him

ᝰ Jun-ho

What cuddling turns into on special nights

Overstimming you when you’ve been bratty by alternating between fucking and fingering you

You pissed him off when he was already in a bad mood

LOVES how your ass looks all oiled up

You’re the literal definition of pillow princess when you’re with him

[housecow]

seeing you outright mention you have death feedism tendencies is like a shotgun to the chest (positive)

i have a medical phobia that’s somehow twisted itself into death feedism ngl. also, evil feeders. 😳

someone hellbent on keeping me as fat as possible for as long as they can—knowing what cocktail of drugs keeps my heart pumping, dumbing me down and keeping me pliant with edibles hidden in my food, waking me up every few hours for feedings and funnel sessions instead of letting me sleep so the weight piles on faster than it should..

somewhere deep down i know it’s not good for me. maybe my feeder tells me about all the health problems i have while the feeding tube is in my mouth and i can barely think, but i can’t focus on what they’re saying without getting overwhelmed. if i don’t remember later, it doesn’t really matter, right?

maybe occasionally i’d “come to my senses,” during a lull in the feedings. when my feeder is busy and away for a while, after i’ve made my way through a small mountain of snacks and the mini fridge (full of shakes laced with THC to keep me docile) is just out of reach. maybe i’d try to get up, only to collapse back down because my knee problems finally caught up to me and fuck, it hurts to even try to walk. maybe then i’d finally take a look at where i am, how i’ve given up my life for someone’s (and my own, let’s be real) sick pleasure.

i’d have to deal with that realization for a while. maybe i’d start to cry, unable to handle the reality. eventually, though, my feeder would come back. they’d find me in this state and console me, getting the funnel ready because they can hear my stomach rumbling and it’s been too long since i’ve eaten. they’ll coo into my ear about how it’s all okay, how i asked for this and it’s what we both want.

they’d give my belly a shake, grasping the lowest roll in their hands and enjoying the way it makes my entire body wobble. they’d press a kiss onto the vast expanse of fat above my belly button, an area they were so excited to see expand under their care. they’d struggle a bit to lift one of my tits, eager to see how my breath hitches at the thought of their mouth on me. these are all distractions. they’ve mastered this game of manipulation and there’s no way i’d be able to find my way out of their control. their touch, the food they offer me, even those moments when i’m not high or in a haze of fullness and pleasure, were meant to further ensnare me and ensure i’m theirs for as long as i live.

my health, my life, is in my feeder’s hands. they know what’s best. as long as i keep eating, keep taking the pills they hand me, keep ignoring how hard it is to move and breathe, it will all be fine. or, that’s what i’d tell myself.

[kashverse]

gojo is the best spouse because he turns you into a legend without you even trying. to know him is to know you—your name slipping past his lips in every conversation, your face proudly displayed on his phone, your stories recounted with a kind of giddy enthusiasm that makes even the most stoic listener crack a smile. there’s no such thing as bad luck when gojo satoru loves you; his eyes alone banish any misfortune that dares to linger. he’ll talk about you to strangers, to cashiers, to police officers who stop him for jaywalking—he doesn’t care. “you think that’s impressive? my partner did something even cooler the other day.” you’re his pride, his joy, the one thing in his life that makes him want to slow down and just exist in the warmth of your presence.

nanami is the best spouse because he redefines what love is supposed to be. it’s not just passion, not just commitment—it’s the quiet assurance that you are valued, that your thoughts hold weight, that your happiness is a priority. he sees you, truly sees you, in ways no one else ever has. he believes in balance; he wants you to chase your ambitions, to work if you wish, to contribute in the ways that make you feel fulfilled. but when it comes to making dinner? setting the table? making sure you eat something warm after a long day? that’s his job, and he won’t hear a word of protest. marriage, to him, is not an obligation—it’s a privilege, a choice he makes every day when he reaches for your hand, when he listens without interruption, when he presses a kiss to your temple and says, “i’m lucky to have you.”

toji is the best spouse because he teaches you that love is not about erasing the past, but honoring it while making space for something new. he carries the weight of old wounds, but never lets them cast a shadow over what he has with you. he never makes you feel like a replacement or a second choice; he loves you for you, not for what you remind him of. he is grateful—so deeply, unbearably grateful—that despite everything, despite the ghosts that sometimes linger in his mind, you chose him. you remind him that love can come twice in a lifetime, that he is not meant to drift through the years alone. “thank you,” he murmurs against your skin, rough hands cradling you like something fragile. “for giving me another chance at this.”

sukuna is the best spouse because he makes you fall in love with the smallest, most insignificant things. love isn’t grand declarations with him, it’s not poetry or flowers or whispered confessions—it’s found in the way he pulls you closer in his sleep, in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back when you walk together. it’s in the extra piece of food he sets aside for you, the grumbled complaints when you forget your coat, the way his touch is always firm but never unkind. it’s absurd, really, that the king of curses finds beauty in the mundane, but somehow, with you, he does. love is a worn-out robe draped over your shoulders because you looked cold. love is a scoff and a muttered, “you’re hopeless,” before he takes over a task you were struggling with. love is him, in all his rough edges and unspoken affections, in the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t paying attention—like you are the only thing in this world worth keeping.

[haikyuubby]

the mha boys in a relationship!

featuring: bakugo, midoriya, todoroki, iida, tokoyami, shinso, & monoma.

❀ - fluff, gender neutral reader

bakugo

↳ bakugo is very...unpredictable

↳ one day, he is all up on you and is very clingy, and the next he wants to be left alone.

↳ mood swings are expected with him.

↳ bakugo is great at gift giving, he pays close attention to detail, especially with you.

↳ since bakugo pays attention to the little things, he'd be able to tell when you're upset or mad.

↳ he's probably not into pda, he wants to keep stuff like that private.

midoriya

↳ midoriya is a great boyfriend.

↳ might be a bit creepy, he has a whole notebook dedicated to you.

↳ said notebook has notes about your quirk, things you like, favorite foods, etc.

↳ he knows you like the back of his hand.

↳ midoriya also loves to take you out on the weekends if he's free.

↳ he likes to hug or hold hands in public, but no more than that.

todoroki

↳ todoroki is unintentionally sweet.

↳ he will do small things for you without knowing it.

↳ for example, you mentioned that you loved strawberries but didn't have any at home at the moment.

↳ the next day during lunch, you open your lunch box and find strawberries in it.

↳ if you ask todoroki if he put them in there he'd just casually say "yeah, because you said you liked them but didn't have any."

↳ also someone who doesn't mind light pda, but would rather kiss in private.

iida

↳ iida is a "play it by the books" typa guy.

↳ dating him would be full of stereotypical romantic things, but it's still special.

↳ expect this man to have flowers in his hand, ready for you, before every time he takes you out on a date.

↳ iida's your biggest motivator, he always pushes you to do your best.

↳ would not initiate pda (especially in school), but in public he would like to hold your hand or have you hold his arm.

tokoyami

↳ tokoyami is a very romantic lover.

↳ his aesthetic shows through all the gifts he gets you, though.

↳ he gets you black or dark purple colored flowers.

↳ he is always looking for ways to take care of you.

↳ tokoyami opens doors for you, carries your books, he's just completely whipped for you.

↳ he doesn't mind pda at all, he thinks that having you by his side is a sight that everyone should see.

shinso

↳ shinso knows you better than anyone else.

↳ the only time that shinso was afraid to speak his mind with you was when he first confessed.

↳ ever since you two got together, he's gotten extremely comfortable with you.

↳ he loves to get you gifts, especially squishmallows.

↳ every time you two are out and about he insists that he gets you one.

↳ in his defense, he just wants you to stay comfortable When you're laying in bed at home.

↳ shinso also wouldn't mind pda, he loves letting people know that he loves you.

monoma

↳ monoma was a passionate lover.

↳ anything he did for you, it had to be perfect.

↳ whether that be gifts, dates, or even simple at home hangouts, he always made sure to do some grand gesture for you.

↳ monoma loves to give you flowers, seeing you post about it on your story and tagging him in said post makes his day.

↳ he wants to show the world how good of a boyfriend he is.

↳ more importantly, he wanted to make you feel loved and important.

↳ monoma's the type of person to cringe at couples who make out in the hallways, so light pda is good for him.

[ikeuverse]

safety point | pjs

pairing: jay x fem!reader genres: angst, fluff, smut wc: 18.6k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : some swearing, several mentions of cancer and chemotherapy. some mentions of food. kissing, dry humping, jongseong being extremely chivalrous and cliché. lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you stopped your whole life to live for your mother and her cancer treatment. you wanted to do everything alone, without burdening anyone, of course… you could do it! but the unexpected happens when jongseong enters your life, sharing this task with you effortlessly and without asking for anything in return.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : it's my birthday, but i want to give a gift to those of you who always read my work. initially this idea was much bigger than what i wrote now, it would probably have to become a fic of almost 3 parts… however i tried to reduce it as much as possible because i really wanted to post it. it's an old plot that i thought about with affection and that i took inspiration from a book i read. hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 masterlist ꒱

“Don't you think you need to go out for a while?” your mother's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making your eyes disconnect from the book you were reading and look at her slowly.

“But I've been out this week, mom” you mumbled, a small smile adorning your lips before returning to your reading.

Both you and your mother knew that a trip to the supermarket wasn't such a big outing, but she also knew that your concern and instinct wouldn't make you do more than that.

It was a forbidden conversation after your mother's diagnosis. You quit your job to live with her in the childhood home you lived in with your family since your younger sister had her own family now. Nothing would be lost for you without teaching the classes you loved so much. Just that.

It would bring you closer to your mother, to palliative care and everything she needed. But there would also be a hobby for you to read more books while she slept, knit some scarves that your grandmother had taught you, then passed on to your mother, and now she had taught you. And your great passion for painting.

Your mother had been against the idea from the start, with you dropping everything to move back in with her, always trivializing the state. However, you and your sister had seen the worst of her before the diagnosis was discovered. She was sure she'd raised two strong, independent women, and you, with your strong, rigid personality, wouldn't give a toss when you turned up with all your suitcases on her doorstep.

You had no reason to think otherwise; after all, she was your mother. You'd do anything for her, and you knew your sister would, too, if she hadn't just given birth to a beautiful baby boy.

That delicate moment had upset your family a little, especially since you all lived together and your mother decided to return to the old house where you and your sister grew up. Everything was so old, vintage, and nostalgic. There were still marks on the hallway doorpost where you and she marked the heights over time. Or the big stain on the carpet where you and she had spilled grape juice and ended up staining it a bit.

There, nothing had been changed to maintain the essence of when you two were little, even more so with the arrival of your nephew. You and your sister wanted to show him where you both grew up, how the tree house your grandfather made was still spotless, the wood looking like new. A good clean inside and you knew it might be habitable to take the little one there when he came to visit you.

“I mean really leave, Y/n” your mother sighed, bringing you out of your thoughts again. You closed the book this time, looking at her intently. Her hair was starting to thin, not completely falling out, but there were signs of it. You tried to smile, although the image always cut you to the heart “When was the last time you accepted a friend's request to go for a walk?”

“We've been over this, miss Dorothy” you tried to play it cool, knowing that the subject would always come up. Your ways of deflecting it always worked, but on that particular afternoon, your head was so immersed in the book you were reading that you didn't see it coming, you were just hit with countless questions.

“I'm going to die one day or another, and you won't have enjoyed anything” she seemed to be starting to get angry, you knew she was.

In those moments, your mother would say things that would cut your heart out, like a little – and unwanted – goodbye, ragging on you for not wanting to go out and stay at home with someone like her. That's what she used to say and you hated it. You hated the way she tried to trivialize it.

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the slight stinging in your eyes and the lump forming in your throat. This was a losing argument because you could never finish talking, leaving the place crying or hugging your mother and agreeing to leave next time.

“I—” you opened your mouth to say something, but your cell phone rang halfway through.

Your blurred vision gradually dispersed as you blinked hard to keep the tears at bay, lifting your body to the other side of the table to pick up the phone and answer it in a few rings.

“Hi, sis” your gaze was on your mother, who was analyzing the whole situation in a brief silence “We're fine. And the rest of you, how are things?”

As your sister told you about your nephew and her husband, and how things were going in the house, your mother got out of the chair in front of you on the balcony and entered the house. At that moment you let out a heavy breath.

“What's wrong? Tell me” she asked on the other end of the line. That simple question made you collapse in seconds. Although she was the youngest, your sister seemed to have the instincts of an older sister in every respect.

She was stronger in situations like this, more resilient, and much more rigid. Your sister could get around her mother when the heavy stuff started and she always helped you when you got into trouble at school. It couldn't be any different now. If she had been in your place, she would surely have made your mother stop talking about how she was going to die or that you were wasting your time with someone who was sick. Your sister would never allow that kind of thing.

“I have some good news to share” she was so excited and, at the same time, you could sense a hint of wavering in her voice. Your thoughts had already run wild about your nephew or something else that might have happened, but if that was the case, your sister wouldn't have spoken so excitedly like that. So you just sighed.

“Tell me they're not pregnant again” you joked, the first relaxed thing to come to mind after venting your frustrations for minutes on that phone call. Knowing that she would listen to you even if she didn't have time. Your sister was your haven after your mother and you felt grateful for that.

She laughed, making you laugh too as you frantically denied it.

“Not really, although Jake has already said he's expecting the second in a few years” you could imagine her rolling her eyes as she snorted. Maybe one hand on her waist while the other held her cell phone nonchalantly. You, on the other hand, were straightening your posture on the sun lounger and, from time to time, looking inside for your mother.

Noticing the comings and goings around the huge counter in the middle of the kitchen, now preparing something to eat. At least that's what she did on her own, since you didn't dare to cook, because you were so bad in front of the stove.

“But what I wanted to tell you is—” she paused for a few seconds, a mumble on the other end of the line and you knew that your nephew was waking up or awakening your sister's attention. She said a few words of comfort to him before returning to the subject: “Mackenzie and I are going to spend some time with you and mom.”

What? If you weren't sitting down, your legs would surely give way, because that wasn't supposed to happen. Your sister had only given birth to your nephew a few months before, so there was no way she could go there.

“Hazel, that's—”

“It's not crazy and I've already decided” she interrupted you, saving her little speech, “We'll talk about it later.”

“Hazel!” you called out again, wanting to understand the reason for the sudden idea.

You wanted your sister and nephew there, of course you did. Although they didn't live that far away, the commute took time and with a small child and a woman in palliative care, it was a bit more complicated.

She said goodbye briefly, knowing that no matter what she did, you would be against any of her arguments. So just letting you know that she was leaving was enough. Hazel still had the room from her childhood and it would be more than perfect to stay there for a while.

When the call ended, you were still trying to absorb it and think about what came next. Of course, you'd lecture your sister for hours, but you'd forget why you were angry soon after, after all, you and she never really got angry with each other. But what worried you was how your mother would react. If with you she was always more restricted, with your sister and nephew coming, she might be even more vulnerable.

But at least you'd have someone else to share the anguish with a little more closely. After, of course, cuddling your nephew and scolding Hazel a bit.

You went into the kitchen to get Jaeyun a glass of cold water, and a small silent thank you for taking your sister's and Mackenzie's bags upstairs.

His footsteps were right behind you, following you into the room.

“You're angry, aren't you?” he asked in a calm tone, entering the kitchen just after you. His eyes didn't look at you, but you knew the boy had those puppy-dog eyes your sister always talked about.

“Angry, me? Why would I be?” you tried to sound indifferent as you opened the fridge to get the jug of water, forgetting for a moment that, as well as your brother-in-law, Jaeyun was your best friend.

It was because of you that he started dating your sister. It was with your help that he asked her to marry him. Jaeyun knew you even before he met Hazel.

“Maybe because I know you as well as you think,” he let slip, humming softly after you turned to get a glass from the drainer. Jaeyun raised one eyebrow when you looked at him, the puppy-dog look having been abandoned for your best friend's shrewd gaze.

Pouring the water, you handed him the glass so he could drink. A moment of silence passed between the two of you as Jaeyun finished the contents, thanked you, and then handed it back to you.

“You know” he began, his hands still resting on the marble of the kitchen counter as he stared at you from across it, “it was my idea for the two of you to come here.”

“Yours? Why?”

He sighed softly, trying to ignore your exasperated tone and looking towards the kitchen door. At that moment, Hazel was talking to your mother in some corner of the house while asking her about her health and even trivial things. She must have been asking the same questions about the family, what it would be like with a baby in the house, and things like that. At least they were both too entertained to even think about going to the kitchen.

“Because I had to go back to helping out in the restaurant a few days ago, it's a mess there without her” Jaeyun began, his eyes now on you as he explained “The boys can manage, but you know, Hazel's the one who puts things in order” he smiled shyly.

You knew this because you had lived with your sister all your life, she was the one who made order happen in every respect. You also knew how organized she was in the workplace, even though you hadn't had a chance to visit the new address yet.

“And she was getting very lonely, so I thought I'd leave her here with you,” he kept looking at you, hoping that some glimmer of a smile or some praise for a good idea would come out of your mouth “Not to mention that the restaurant is a ten-minute drive away, so any of the guys and I can get here if you need anything.”

It was a good plan if you thought about it that way and wanted to give it a go. Jaeyun was right and you knew it, Hazel wouldn't be going back to work and what she liked to do any time soon, at least not until Mackenzie could go to nursery, and you knew that was a few months away. She must have felt lonely since Jaeyun, her only adult companion, had to go back to work.

From the glare on your best friend and brother-in-law's face, you knew he didn't want that. Not when his dream was to build a life alongside Hazel and now that his family was formed, being inside the restaurant was all he wanted at the moment. Not that he hated his job, on the contrary, Jaeyun loved what he did, but he loved his family even more.

“So you forgive me for going against your wishes and bringing the two of them here?” he asked after a while of rambling, knowing that his mind was running wild as countless assumptions ran through his head. How you would take care of Hazel and Mackenzie, how you would make Jaeyun less worried about his wife and son, and even about you and your mother. Because you knew that he worried as if he were her son. He called every night by video call to talk for hours with the two of you since you moved back in with your mother to take care of her.

“I swear to God, I hope Mackenzie doesn't bring out that puppy dog side of you, otherwise Hazel and I are going to be screwed” you muttered, looking away from him as you heard him laugh.

As with Hazel, getting angry with Jaeyun didn't last long. You and he had never had a serious fight since you met and became best friends. So it wouldn't be now, as an adult, that you and he would do that.

He knew how focused and determined you were to take care of your mother alone so as not to burden anyone, but you also knew how tiring it was and how much Jaeyun and your sister knew that. Little by little, they wanted to sneak in to help you and make you give in at least a little. Getting everyone to the house had been the first step that was working.

“There's just one condition, then” you muttered as you watched him cross the kitchen, stop beside you, and stretch out his arms towards you. You rolled your eyes at the small act of affection that was about to take place, but you still didn't deny it, moving closer to Jaeyun to hug him.

“You can ask me and I'll do anything, I hope I can” he said, hugging you as tightly as you hugged him, resting his chin on the top of your head as he slowly cradled your body.

“You can bring me a tasty meal from the restaurant at least once a week, can't you?”

Jaeyun laughed a little loudly, echoing throughout the kitchen as he felt you squeeze him even tighter, laughing along with him.

“I'll do that” he whispered.

“Look, did you two make up after all?” Hazel walked into the kitchen with her mother by her side, both of them smiling while the eldest held the baby in her arms, a little sleepy and grumpy. You and Jaeyun stepped aside and he smiled at his mother-in-law lovingly.

“Of course, Jake promised me meals from your restaurant” you hummed.

“I'm sure you'd ask for that” Hazel laughed, walking past Jaeyun and kissing him quickly on the lips. Then she walked past you, messing up your hair and going to the fridge.

This time with a full house, apart from you and your mother, could be good after all.

Having your sister and nephew at home wasn't so bad, not even Jaeyun's regular visits after work. Your best friend making a point of having dinner with everyone and still keeping his promise to bring some of the restaurant's meals for you and your mother to try.

“They're not the ones I make, but they're still wonderful” you knew Hazel would boast, and rightly so. She was an incredible cook and you were immensely proud of her.

Even more so in her strength and determination to balance Mackenzie's growth and development with hospital visits and appointments with her mother. Of course, she wanted to intersperse, so that she could also drive once in a while to a routine check-up or to pick up some medication for her mother. All of this was part of the companionship between you as a family, which you were learning to deal with.

Because before it was just you for your mother. Your car leaves the garage at least four times a day to chase things. Now you could rest and take a nap while your sister did it. Even if guilt consumed you, but… Guilt about what? Her helping you? Because that's what was happening.

A whole month passed with these thoughts hammering away in your head, Hazel and Mackenzie becoming more and more embedded in the routine of looking after their mother and now Jaeyun was sleeping there some nights too. A full house was always a good sign, but the extra help made you a little uncomfortable. You didn't want to burden their small family, especially with a small baby. That was absurd.

“In a few weeks I can put Mackie in nursery, so we'll have more time to do things for mom” Hazel said after leaning over the coffee table, picking up some sour treats you'd bought earlier in the week.

Just to settle your stomach before Jaeyun called to let you know he was coming. Your mother was upstairs fixing some hair scarves. She'd gotten way ahead of herself by buying a few pieces when the hair hadn't even fallen out yet, but you knew how anxious she was – and afraid of what lay ahead – so letting her focus on that was the best choice to make.

“But you're going back to the restaurant and your house is twenty minutes away, don't make it up” you tried your best big sister tone, staring at the side profile of your sister who was eating yet another acidic treat without trying to grimace.

She opened her mouth to say something, to try to protest and say that that house could house all of you with peace of mind. Jaeyun wouldn't mind spending some time living there other than in the apartment they had planned when they got married. Everyone knew that your mother's treatment would take a while, but your sister was worried too.

Not just about your mother – that was the main thing – but about you too. About the fact that you had quit your job with no foreseeable return date, abandoning your hobbies while creating new ones. Or at least some of which you could do at home with your mother, keeping her in your field of vision at all times.

“I think we can handle this very well as a big family, Y/n” Hazel turned, finally facing you. She ran the tip of her tongue over the corner of her lips to wipe away the remnants of jam that had remained there “You've done a lot on your own and—”

Suddenly your sister's speech was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone reverberating through the room. She straightened up on the sofa, picking up the device without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hi” from her smile, it was Jaeyun. You'd recognize it anywhere, because it was the same way, in this very house, that she used to answer his calls when she was in college.

You decided to leave the two of them a little more privacy and got up to go to the kitchen, eating those candies had left your throat a little dry, maybe sparkling water would help. Grabbing the bottle from the fridge, you let the fizzy noise invade the room with such pleasure as you turned the cap on the bottle before taking a long sip.

“Hey, sis” Hazel came into the kitchen a little while later. The phone was still in hand, but the screen was off and she looked at you expectantly.

“What?” you asked, taking another sip and feeling your eyes sting from the fizzy water going down your throat. It was a wonderful sensation that calmed all your previous thirst caused by the candy.

“You know…” Hazel placed her cell phone on the counter, glancing at you quickly “Jake said he was going to have a small meeting of the boys, a dinner between them, and he asked us to come.”

You were ready to protest, your mouth open to deny the invitation and repeat the same words you'd say to anyone who tried to get you out of the house, but your mother appeared in the kitchen long before you could even think.

“Of course she's going” she smiled slowly.

“Mom” you began, but she interrupted you again.

“I'm a bit tired from fussing with those scarves” she said, standing between you and your sister, alternating her gaze between the two of you “I probably won't be having dinner tonight if Jake brought something, so you'd better go.”

The protest was already on the tip of your tongue, a strange feeling of not having anything to say while two people, en masse and in force, were trying to get you out of the house.

“Besides, you need to go out with your sister and your nephew too, just staying in here will make you sick along with me.”

You wanted to be able to predict every time your mother made a comment that made the atmosphere heavy or made you ill, reminding her how sick she was. Making her sink further into ruin along with that damned disease.

She knew that you would say something, that you could scold her as you always have since she began to face a reality – a rather harsh one – in the face of that situation. Your mother approached you, kissed your cheek, and wished you goodnight. She passed your sister and did the same, leaving the kitchen and leaving the two of you there.

A moment of silence between you and her was enough to make your eyes sting, remembering the words that came out of the mouth of the person you love most in the world.

“I hate it when she does that” your laugh came out without humor, and you sniffled softly to try to keep away the tears that threatened to fall. It was your sister's turn to approach you in slow steps, testing the waters until she was finally standing in front of you.

“You know she's going to say that kind of thing because look at everything Mom's going through” Hazel held you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes with tense emotion. She took a deep breath at the same moment as you, feeling her eyes sting in the same way. “But we know that nothing bad will happen because we found out at the beginning, that this phase of degradation always happens to those who go through it.”

“It's just that— Shit” you cursed softly, feeling Hazel pull you into a hug.

“How about we go out for a while tonight, have dinner at the restaurant?” she proposed while still hugging you tightly “You can meet the staff, have a real chat, and try some more good food.”

Pondering for a while, you wanted to say no again. Even if the idea was too tempting and your stomach was rumbling, you'd never gone out like this before. Ever since your mother discovered cancer, everything around you stopped to focus on the woman who gave you life, and that was what had to happen. But not all the time.

You could also go out for a while and still send a message or wait for a call since your contact was your mother's emergency contact. You had all sorts of means of communication, so there was little way of depriving yourself of going out this time, and from the pleading look on your sister's face, after she pulled away from the hug, you knew there was no denying it.

“I'm just going to take a shower” you finished. She squealed with excitement, running into the kitchen as you walked slowly out of the room.

“I'm going to shower Mackie and get ready too, we'll be leaving soon. I'll let Jake know!”

It seemed that Hazel had won a huge prize just by agreeing to leave. You laughed at her excitement, realizing how important it was for her, even for your mother and Jaeyun, that you also took care of yourself. Because you needed to be strong and healthy to deal with the whole process together with everyone else.

You allowed yourself to take a little longer in the shower this time, taking a deep breath each time you scrubbed your body, thinking about how strange the feeling in your chest was that night. It could have been a bit of relief at finally getting out, or just a feeling of gratitude at having such loving and caring people around you.

Both answers could be correct, and that's what motivated you to get out from under the shower and look for a nice outfit to go out in.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with nostalgic conversations and a few mumbles from Mackenzie. The atmosphere in the car was light and you found yourself smiling a little more than usual as your sister talked as much as you did. About everything and anything.

The two of you were trying to make up for the time when you were too far away from each other while, in the time since Hazel's return, you and she have been closer than ever.

She announced quietly when she arrived at the restaurant, maneuvering into the parking lot while you got ready to leave. Grabbing your bag, hers and your nephew's while your sister parked to pick up the baby. A perfect team effort that you and she developed without even agreeing.

“We went through a renovation before Mackenzie was born, so I'm entering this new place together with you for the first time” her smile was so infectious that you couldn't help but smile back. Her excitement, her enthusiasm.

This place meant everything to your sister. You remember when she went to gastronomy school, something completely out of the ordinary that your family thought the youngest would follow. You had already been a total buzz studying to be a kindergarten teacher and majoring in fine arts as a second degree. Your sister doing something that wasn't geared towards medicine, law, or whatever your family thought, made you very happy. Hazel never followed any kind of pattern and that's what made her unique and a role model for you, even though she was the youngest.

After she graduated, she thought about opening a restaurant, but her savings were low and she had just been proposed to. Everything was being saved for the big day, even with the help of her family and Jaeyun's, Hazel wanted to have an important role in this as well, besides saying yes in front of many guests.

She was lucky to have friends in college, one of them in particular encouraged her to open a restaurant, even becoming her partner, where you heard very good things about it. All the people who did good to your sister were worthy of your respect and joy, even without knowing them. Until today, in fact.

You let her go in first, opening the huge glass doors while you marveled at the new decor. Since you didn't know what the old one was, you started to appreciate the place as being the way it was from your first impression, every detail being in very good taste while you could feel your sister's opinion of everything. There was a bit of her in everything in that establishment.

“I can’t believe my eyes” a male voice took you out of your thoughts. It wasn’t Jaeyun’s, so you didn’t know who was speaking “Our greatest love…”

“Mackie!” another voice interrupted the boy, who opened his arms to run to Hazel and pretend to ignore her while taking the little one from the girl’s arms.

“And I’m invisible in this place?” Hazel protested, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the two drooling men playing with the little newcomer. He watched with curious and wide eyes, paying attention to the little noises they made to try to get attention.

“We’ve worked hard with you, we want to see our new mini-boss.”

“I think I’ll talk to Jay about layoffs when I get back” she hummed.

“Don’t scare them, love. We’ve had a busy day today, they deserve a distraction” Jaeyun finally appeared, the only one you knew so far.

The game with your little nephew lasted only a few seconds, as soon as they looked up to look at Hazel, they saw you behind her too.

“Oh, we have a visitor” one of them said, moving away from the one holding Mackenzie and walking towards where you and Hazel were. He smiled, greeting your sister first and then looking at you with a small smile “I’m Sunghoon, nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n” you lightly shook his hand that he extended after saying the name.

“Hazel’s sister? Poor thing, having to put up with her at home” the other joked “I’m Heeseung” he rocked Mackenzie lightly, giving small sniffs on the top of your nephew’s head. You couldn’t blame him, the baby smell was addictive.

“She’s more demanding than here, I bet” you joined in the joke, getting the first laugh from your sister’s friends and employees.

Hazel would even protest if it were at another time, maybe saying it wasn't like that or pretending to be angry. But seeing that you were comfortable in the first few minutes you were there made her heart swell with joy. That was what she wanted. That was what Jaeyun also wanted from his best friend.

“It's working out” he whispered to his wife, kissing the top of her head as he approached, pulling out a chair for Hazel to sit down.

“I hope you're all willing to help me bring the food to the dining room” the voice was loud enough to come from the kitchen and reverberate where you all were, but in a playful way. You could hear the effort the owner of the voice had to make to speak loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I'm busy” Heeseung shouted back, not wanting to let go of Mackenzie for even a second, but that didn't last long since Sunghoon also wanted to hold him. And that's what he did.

“Now he can, my turn to be busy,” he joked for a moment before the huge wooden door opened.

The steps that followed made everyone stare at the man who was approaching. He walked gracefully, carefree as he untied his kitchen apron and placed it on the table where you decided to sit. It had an identification plate, probably the number that was used during the time the restaurant was open, but that was no longer so important.

For a moment, all the conversation around seemed to go silent when your eyes met his. The expression of the man in front of you was of slight surprise, but he kept a small smile on his chapped and reddened lips as he maintained eye contact with you.

Your sister, your brother-in-law, and the other boys were still talking about something, but you and that man seemed not to want to break your gaze from each other. And you wanted to understand why.

Maybe it was his well-defined jawline, or his tanned skin and the way his neck was adorned with a silver chain. The top two buttons of his white shirt were open and his black hair almost got in the way of your vision, if it weren't for the hands insisting on moving them out of the way.

“Jay” Jaeyun's voice finally brought both you and him back to reality. “This is Y/n, my sister-in-law and best friend.”

He blinked a few times in understanding, a noticeable “oh” leaving his lips without much sound. He had certainly heard about you, as well as the other two you had met a few minutes ago.

You looked around to notice that your sister was now holding Mackenzie in her arms, he was whining – probably hungry – so that was the reason why she hadn't introduced you, but Jaeyun instead.

The boy with the perfect jaw took a few steps, looking a little less confident now. If you were a good body reader, you would say he was nervous as he got closer. But as soon as he stopped in front of you, he extended his hand towards you.

It was your turn to blink slowly, finding the greeting a little more formal than usual, but even so, it didn't stop you from reaching out and holding his hand too. You just didn't expect that, when you touched his hand, the boy would lean in and press his lips to your skin. Even though it was chapped, it felt strangely soft and warm against your back.

“I'm Jongseong” he said softly, his lips still close to your skin and his warm breath hitting it. This made a shiver run through your body and made your heartbeat accelerate in a ridiculously instant way. “But you can call me Jay.”

The words wouldn't come out of your mouth, you wanted to say something. Anything to not look like an idiot in front of him, but Jongseong seemed to notice your shyness and his act that had – probably – taken you by surprise. Even him, after all, why had he greeted you so intimately like that?

He wouldn't say it was because he was mesmerized by your beauty, or even that his heartbeat was almost in his ears because of you. Jongseong had never been nervous like that.

“Do you want help in the kitchen, man?” Jaeyun bit his tongue to keep from making any kind of joke, much less making a fuss about the situation since only he had seen everything. The others were busy talking while Hazel got ready to feed the baby.

“Please” Jongseong turned to him, thanking him with just a look since his friend was the great savior.

“Do you two need help?” your voice finally came out, and Jongseong swore he felt his knees weaken a little. Your voice was beautiful, just like you.

“Actually—”

“Don’t even think about it, miss Y/n” Heeseung appeared, placing himself between you and the other two who were gathering to go to the kitchen “Leave it to us, you stay with Hazel and hope for the best in this restaurant.”

“It’s only not better because I didn’t prepare anything,” Hazel said a little louder.

“How conceited” Jongseong joked.

“Tell me the truth, you miss our competitions” she said.

This man had all sides equally attractive. Whether it was the flirtatious side – unintentionally – that he showed you a few minutes ago, the relaxed side he was showing with his friends. You feared that he would be like that in every way, how could you stand it, after all?

When the three disappeared into the kitchen, you finally sat next to your sister and faced Sunghoon. The two quickly looked at you, a small smile on the lips of the only boy present there.

“Sunghoon, no…” Hazel started saying, leaving you completely confused.

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything” he tried to defend himself, but she interrupted him.

“I’ve known you long enough to know what you were going to say.”

“And what was he going to say?” you asked, almost regretting it the moment your sister closed her eyes and Sunghoon’s smile widened even more. Working with people for so long could sharpen a sixth sense of what they were thinking or what they were going to say next. Knowing someone so well that you could know what the other was capable of.

And that was how it was with your sister and Sunghoon. The two seemed to understand each other while she tried to tell him to be quiet with just scolding looks, but he didn’t seem to care. Shrugging almost every time before turning to you and smiling even wider.

“That someone finally brought our cliché Jongseong back” Sunghoon leaned over the table to say those words as if he wanted to tell you a secret. Hazel mumbled something, throwing her head back as she listened to him continue, “You two really fit together.”

“Sunghoon!” you protested, your cheeks turning red and hot, your face on fire. Your throat was dry and you almost ran away from there if it weren’t for the lack of a ride since you had gone with your sister to the restaurant.

“Tell me I’m lying” he turned around, speaking directly to your sister. She was focused on making Mackenzie burp, your nephew’s head resting on her shoulder as she patted his back lightly.

You thought your sister would deny it, say it wasn’t like that, and that Sunghoon was crazy. Everyone there seemed a little crazy, you could tell by your brother-in-law and your sister, that they weren’t normal. But what followed was a knowing smile and a slight nod.

“I knew this would happen” Hazel finally said, leaving Sunghoon to celebrate with fist pumps in the air.

“So… Did you guys plan it…?”

“Not at all” they both said at the same time.

The question hung in the air, if that had been something everyone had done for you to get to know him or if it had happened that way. That it was supposed to be that way. From their surprise, you knew that nothing had been planned, but at least the doubts were hammering in your head.

What did it mean to bring the cliché Jongseong back? Wasn't he the way he was showing? You looked at Hazel and then at Sunghoon, your mouth opening and closing a few times before being interrupted by the kitchen door opening again.

Your heart almost jumped out of your mouth when Jongseong appeared, a small smile on the corner of his lips and his gaze directly at Sunghoon.

“Hey man, enough talking, we need another hand here” he nodded into the kitchen, before closing the door and disappearing from view.

“Duty calls me” he stood up, waving to you and your sister before running the few steps until he opened the doors with less delicacy than before and went into the kitchen.

Hazel bit her lower lip to keep her smile from widening even more, while her eyebrows were still furrowed and her expression was one of complete confusion. But she knew you well enough to know what was going on in your head, so slowly her sister began to speak.

“Maybe in time, you’ll know what Hoonie meant” Hazel settled your nephew on her lap, now he was a little sleepy and mumbling. She gave him a little kiss on the forehead before looking back in his direction “It just depends on you getting out a little more.”

Part of you didn’t want to find out, simply letting it go and ignoring everything that had happened. Focusing only on dinner and the conversation that would come from there until you left. But another part of you was looking forward to it, maybe a very small one, because it meant you would see Jongseong again until you found out what Sunghoon meant.

The mental conflict made you even more confused, you just wanted to understand what had happened for a guy to mess with you so much in such a short time.

After that night at the restaurant, you tried to get back to your normal routine. Continue to focus entirely on your mother, taking advantage of the fact that your sister would be back home soon, but almost everything slipped through your fingers.

One night you were sitting on the porch of your childhood home, refusing to go out for anything other than your mother's appointments and the tests she needed to do. Another time you were sitting at the table in your sister's restaurant, having dinner and chatting animatedly with her friends and changing the course of your entire life.

You didn't imagine that that night Jongseong would sit next to you, start a conversation with you, and not mind joining in on the conversation his friends were having. He was just trying to fill Hazel in on what had happened while she was away, so it was much more interesting for him to talk to you and hear your stories.

This led to a long night in which you got to know a little more about him, and how charismatic and truly charming Jongseong was in every way. All the topics with him flowed naturally, engaging in one conversation after another without stopping and without the two of you having a single moment of silence. Save for the few seconds in which he listened to you talk, sipping some of the wine that Jaeyun had chosen or answering a question from the other group when directed to him.

You also didn't mind having only his attention, even with the provocative looks from Hazel and Sunghoon, and a giggle here and there from Heeseung and Jaeyun. That wouldn't make you so shy. And the redness on your cheeks you could blame solely on the wine you were drinking, so everything was under control. Until you started to feel strange.

A part of you ran from one side to the other as your mother's exams became more frequent, the discouragement she felt with each chemotherapy showing in the thinning of her hair and the thinness on her face. It was affecting her little by little. Another side of you, the small side that had little life outside of hospitals, longed to see Jongseong again. But you couldn't afford to leave your mother at home and go on a date with him, no way would happen. Not even the few hours you spent at the restaurant that day would be enough to repeat.

You brought the cliché Jongseong back, that only made sense when you realized that man was in your kitchen making dinner.

He asked your sister for your number, and Hazel certainly wouldn't object to that. If she did, Jaeyun wouldn't do it, so there was no way out but for him to send you a message. He knew what he was getting into, he knew what you were like from the countless conversations he had with your sister, who was his business partner and best friend. Family problems were shared between the two of you, and when Hazel told him that you at least did something for yourself, Jongseong didn't think twice.

If inviting someone to your house wasn't something he wanted to do, then he decided to talk to Jaeyun and propose a dinner for all of you. Maybe if your mother attended, if it was under your roof, you would at least be there. He could see you again.

And that's what he did.

Cutting the umpteenth asparagus and looking away at you, Jongseong gave a small smile when he realized your eyes were still on him. Arms crossed as he watched you prepare the ingredients before Hazel came back to help.

“Do you cook too?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled for a short minute. Jaeyun had just left to put Mackenzie in the stroller when he fell asleep. Your mother was upstairs choosing an outfit a little better than the pajamas she wore, after all, it wasn’t every day that she had guests.

“Only my sister inherited this talent” you commented with a small smile, looking at Jongseong’s fingers that cut masterfully. He seemed to have a unique precision in each cut. If it were you, nothing would be asymmetrical and you would have hurt yourself by now.

“Come on, you have a talent for artistic things, or do you think I forgot?” he joked.

Your heart skipped a beat when he said that, and then Jongseong remembered the conversation you had at the restaurant a while ago. You two had talked about so many things, you just didn't know he would remember your speeches about college and graduation. Maybe it was irrelevant.

But for him, it wasn't. Jongseong remembered every detail and every word you had said to him that night, he could recite the most diverse subjects you and he talked about if it was to keep things lighter again.

“Y/n” he called you next, your eyes leaving his hands to go to the boy's face “Do you mind trying it and see if I put too much salt in the sauce?” he removed the dish towel from his shoulders and looked for the largest spoon he had on the sink next to the stove. Your throat dried, and you became slightly nervous.

“Me? Really?” your tone of voice almost betrayed you, if it weren't for the secondary noises of cutlery that Jongseong was spreading until he found what he needed.

“Hazel usually does this, but I think she and Jake are checking out the mini chef,” he said, making you laugh.

It wouldn’t be a big deal to try a seasoning on something you were going to eat sooner or later, and it was certainly just to put Jongseong’s insecurity aside. After all, he was a great chef. Getting the salt right was the least of his worries. Even so, you approached, still with hesitant steps, and walked around the kitchen counter until you were standing next to him. A few more steps and you were next to the boy.

“You can be honest if I’ve overdone it, okay?” he asked, trying not to waver in his tone of voice to convey confidence, but deep down, Jongseong was a little scared. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to impress you with a sophisticated dish, he wanted you to admire him cooking in his kitchen. Even though the first time you two met, you ate something he had prepared. But it wouldn't be the same if he hadn't been watching from across the kitchen.

“I bet it’s amazing, I don’t know what you’re so scared of” you joked to lighten the mood, seeing that he was nervous. Wanting to believe your words, Jongseong took the spoon and ran it along the edge of the sauce, collecting some of the bubbling mixture.

You waited patiently as you were mesmerized once again. Jongseong’s lips formed into a pout as he blew out the smoke that formed under the red mixture, some leaves between the sauce and the smell lingered in the air. If your stomach could talk, it would scream to try it right then, but you were also delighted with his care before serving it to you.

It was something simple, your sister had already done it for you, and your mother did it too. Even Jaeyun once blew on a hot mixture before handing it to you to try, but no one had done what came next.

Jongseong brought the spoon to your lips, waiting for you to open it to try it. He didn’t hand you the spoon or let you take it yourself… He did it for you.

Your heartbeat was racing, your face was burning and you could at least say it was because you were so close to hot food. At least that would serve as an excuse. Not the fact that Jongseong had one hand firmly around a spoon in front of your mouth, while the other was against your chin.

“Open” he just whispered, so softly, but in such a seductive way at the same time. His fingers touched your skin like a feather, you saw him look away at your mouth as it opened, wrapping itself around the spoon to eat the sauce.

It tasted great and the salt was perfect, it couldn’t be any other way.

“It’s… It’s great, Jay” you didn’t even care about the stuttering due to nervousness at that moment, you were too focused on Jongseong’s eyes alternating between your eyes and your lips. Your tongue slowly ran over your lower lip to collect the remains of the sauce and at that moment you noticed his lips slowly part, an inaudible sigh leaving the lips of the boy in front of you. This made you nervous and unresponsive because you swear he leaned in a little. You also swear you leaned back, but before anything else, both of you moved away with Jaeyun's thunderous entrance into the kitchen.

“So, everything ready?” he asked nonchalantly, not looking at you and Jongseong much. Thank goodness, you both thought at the same time, without even knowing it.

“A few more minutes and we can have dinner” Jongseong composed himself, waiting for you to do the same before turning his attention back to the sauce.

The rest of the time passed in a blur, you followed the entire dinner talking to everyone who was there, picking up Mackenzie when he woke up to let your sister have dinner with a little more dignity too. Your heart raced when it was Jongseong's turn to hold the baby in his arms. That scene was unusual and so cute. You didn't know why you were like that.

Maybe it was because of the way he always acted, so naturally and so politely. How he talked to your family, or how he always interacted with you. Showing care in his words and showing that he cared about what you were saying, no matter how small.

Jongseong was the first person you let get a little closer after your mother's diagnosis. He was the only one who was able to talk to you for hours without making you mention your mother, or without making you look at your phone to see what time it was time to go home, or making you uncomfortable with something he said. He was always making sure you were okay or asking if you needed anything.

I need you to stop this, it's dangerous, you answered mentally every time. So dangerous that your heart already felt the possible effects that Park Jongseong was having on you.

“The dishes are on me now” your mother smiled after a long time of talking, denying it in every possible way as Jaeyun and Jongseong tried to run ahead to stop her. The two of them were seeing how stubborn she was, and where you and your sister had inherited it from.

“If anything, you can call me, okay, mom?” you asked.

“Sure, my love. Enjoy it” she smiled in your direction before disappearing into the kitchen. Jongseong and Jaeyun took all the dishes to the sink, at least helping with that while you and your sister still sat at the dining table.

“And I'm going to change someone's diaper because I think we have a surprise here” Hazel hummed as she saw the concentrated faces and expressions that Mackenzie was making. You laughed out loud when you saw your nephew's face turn red, then the farting noises he made.

“Good luck” you said before she left with the little one upstairs for a long diaper change.

“Your sister—” Jaeyun soon appeared.

“Upstairs changing the little boss's diaper” you heard his and Jongseong's laughter at using the nickname everyone was giving the little boy. Your brother-in-law and best friend didn't even wait or say anything else, he followed your sister upstairs, leaving you and Jongseong alone again.

“So…” he said, pulling the chair next to you to sit where you were before. You felt your body tingle when his shoulder touched yours, slowly turning towards the boy.

“So…” you repeated his words, biting your lower lip to keep from smiling so much. Or so he wouldn't look at your mouth again, making you nervous. Not that you weren't at that moment, but something in the air seemed a little lighter between you and Jongseong.

“I was thinking” he rested his elbows on the table, stretching his hands in front of his body and staring at his fingers. Anything to get the courage to speak instead of staring at you, because he knew nothing would come out coherently if he was looking into your eyes. “Would you be willing to have coffee with me sometime?”

You turned so abruptly towards him, that the shock in Jongseong's words caused you a certain panic, but as his eyes reached you, noticing a certain curiosity as he waited for your answer, you relaxed. He seemed as shy and vulnerable as you were at that moment.

“Jay…” you started speaking, noticing how attentive he was as he waited for you to speak “My mother… You know…” and then he smiled. A small, simple smile, but it didn't seem sad. You knew your answer, but you were surprised by his reaction.

“Jake told me you would say that, but I decided to try anyway” he laughed at your expression, and you noticed that your eyes were wide and still in shock.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey, it’s okay, I rushed” Jongseong interrupted you.

“No, Jay, you didn’t rush” you said too quickly, fumbling with your words and, most importantly, your actions. In a moment of desperation so that he wouldn’t feel upset or rejected – you didn’t want to reject him, nor were you crazy about it – you held his hands. Your fingers slowly slid between his and Jongseong just let it, feeling your soft skin come into contact with his “I’d love to have coffee with you, but it’s just—”

“We’ll find a way, okay?” he asked “I’ll wait, it’s okay.”

Hot, understanding, and patient. Did that man have any flaws?

You couldn't say anything at that moment, lost in your thoughts and in the caress he began to make with his thumb on your torso. Your eyes quickly met his, and then a smile drew your lips that he loved to see so much up close. Jongseong wanted to feel them too, but one step at a time.

And as he said out loud, he would wait. Jongseong, for sure, would wait.

Getting used to a full house would only be bad when your sister returned to her routine, working at the restaurant after she managed to put Mackenzie in daycare. You thought it wouldn't shake you, after all, it was always you and your mother. You were always the one who ran after everything so that your sister could feel calmer and less overwhelmed.

But you also didn't know that you would miss more laughter and voices in that house. That the antics of your brother-in-law and best friend would fill an environment that only had sadness and regrets. You also noticed how pale your mother started to get after the chemotherapy treatments were becoming more and more invasive.

The conversations with the doctors and nurses were more frequent, both because of your mother's complaints and for them to warn the two of you of what was starting to happen. The hair loss came gradually, and you thought you would be strong enough to deal with it alone. Seeing the clumps of hair in the bathroom and the older woman's teary eyes she tried to say that everything was fine.

It wasn't. And you knew this because you lost count of how many times you sat on the bathroom floor, hugging your mother's fragile body while she cried over the loss of more strands of hair. The scarves were now her best friends. At least something she had chosen a long time ago was helping to keep her a little happier.

Not as much as you would have liked, seeing Mrs. Dorothy crying around the house and staying quiet was worse than hearing her say atrocities. At least she talked to you, mumbled something or simply fought with you to leave the house. You just wanted to hear your mother's voice. But the few conversations you had were on the way to chemotherapy or at the dinners she decided to attend, not when she left you alone in the kitchen with the cold plate in front of you waiting for her to come down.

Not hungry. That was what she usually told you the next morning, and you swallowed it because you no longer had the strength to argue. Hazel would come by every day after work to check on you, talk to your mother – or try to – while bringing her a new hair scarf to wear at her next appointment. That made her smile, at least.

You just wanted it all to end, you just wanted to cry in peace and get all that weight off your shoulders while thinking about nothing but yourself. But thinking about yourself was as far away as you wanted, and opening up about it to your sister was a delicate subject. She would make you drop everything to take responsibility, and you wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her become an absent mother to Mackenzie while you went to take care of your mother. There was no escape.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you something to eat…” you left the bag on the kitchen counter, waiting for your mother to come into the room after another appointment. She smiled at you, in a sad way that broke your heart even more, if that were possible.

“I think I just want to rest now, sunshine” she said quietly, but you heard enough. Her tone was sad, but she tried to encourage you as she looked and smiled in your direction. Your mother leaned down enough to kiss your cheek. “Don’t go without eating, I’m going to go to my room, okay?”

“Mom—”

“My door is open and my phone is fully charged, I’ll call you if I need anything. I promise.”

It was a promise she had never broken, at least. The few times your mother needed you, she called you to run upstairs and help her with trivial things, but she still called. So even though you hated leaving her alone, you decided to trust her and let her rest.

Sometimes it was good for her to be alone for a while to reorganize her thoughts. You were going through this as her daughter, while she was the patient with that damned disease. She was the one who was feeling everything, experiencing it – literally – on her skin and you couldn’t imagine the pain and anguish it was to live with that inside yourself.

Your eyes followed her figure up the stairs and, finally, disappeared from your field of vision through the upper floor of the house.

You let out all the breath you didn’t know you were holding, your eyes starting to burn as you didn’t know what to do. Would you call Hazel now? Would you leave the house to clear your head? You even thought about sending a message to Jongseong, but nothing that was going on in your head was coherent enough to be carried out. So the only lucid thing you could do was to grab a bottle of wine and drink it in no time.

The bitterness of the drink went down your throat for the umpteenth time, your body was curled up in the corner of the couch while your eyes flickered through the silliest channels without really paying attention to what was happening there. You just wanted to get drunk on wine and go up to your room so you could sleep. But the sound of the doorbell wouldn't let you do that.

Maybe it was time for Hazel to arrive and check on you and your mother, this could happen quickly because you started to get dizzy from a bottle of wine and your mother was already on her tenth sleep if she could be counted. So you got up from the couch to drag your feet to the front door. The speech was on the tip of your tongue because your sister would certainly scold you for drinking without eating anything, but what you found there in front of you didn't look anything like Hazel.

Jongseong had nothing to do with your sister. Only his worried expression and his eyebrows together could be said to be an expression you knew well: concern.

“Y/n… Are you okay?” he asked a little euphoric, but trying to relax little by little when you blinked a few times, trying to assimilate.

“Jay…”

“Gosh, I was worried” he moved his hands from side to side as he gestured and spoke, and you heard the sound of bags, but ignored it for a moment “Hazel said she would come here to check on you and I said I could come after work, she called you and you didn't answer so I—” little by little, Jongseong followed your gaze to his hands, where there were bags he was holding “Oh.”

“What is this?” you asked.

“Answer me first” he said back, looking at you this time. You straightened your posture, a narrowed look in his direction before softening and leaning against the door frame.

“I can’t deal with my problems so I drank an entire bottle of wine—”

“Did you eat, at least?” he interrupted you, seeing you shake your head. For the first time, you noticed a serious expression on Jongseong’s face, as if he was angry with you. And something stirred inside your chest when he walked past you without asking permission and entered your house.

Jongseong wasn’t a stranger, but he also didn’t consider himself an acquaintance to the point of doing this. But combining concern with several other feelings made him act on impulse. You closed the door to the house and simply followed him to the kitchen, where he placed the bags on the counter where you had placed yours a few hours before.

“Jay” you finally called out to him, and he looked in your direction. The same serious expression from before was still there, not softening for a single second. “What are you— What is this?”

Stop stuttering, idiot. Your eyes started to burn because he was mad at you, and you were too drunk to deal with that kind of thing.

“You said you’d have coffee with me, didn’t you?” he asked, waiting for your answer. You blinked slowly to keep the tears away and sighed, nodding positively to the question he had asked. “I decided to bring some things to make coffee here, since that way you wouldn’t leave the house and… Well…”

Now he felt shy enough to verbalize all the effort he was making. Of course, Jongseong had contacted your sister and Jaeyun to see if it was a good idea, especially since he was constantly listening to Hazel’s complaints about your mother’s situation. He didn’t want to demand attention from you, much less for you to go out with him. As he had said that day, he would be patient enough and wait. But nothing was stopping him from bringing the coffee to you.

“So you… You wanted to come have coffee with me?” Your voice was shaky, you felt like you could break down at any moment. No one had ever done that for you in your entire life: demonstrated. You had been around people enough to understand that not everything could be reciprocal, not everything people would make an effort, and that was okay. No one had that obligation.

And seeing that Jongseong didn’t treat it as an obligation, but because he wanted to do it, made you even more vulnerable. Sunghoon’s voice always hammered in the back of your head saying that you had brought the cliché Jongseong back, and if that was him, you were happy to rescue him somehow.

“I didn’t… Damn—” you heard a sob erupt from your throat, realizing you were crying the moment you felt the salty tears run down to your lips.

Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, Jongseong's strong arms were around your waist, pulling you close and nuzzling your face against his chest.

You and him could stay like that for hours and you wouldn't complain. The smell of his cologne was calming your nerves as you cried copiously and sobbed against his light shirt – now completely stained with your makeup – while he said nothing. But the caress on your back and the few kisses on the top of your head could say much more than you wanted to hear.

He didn't know when it was the right time to open his mouth or look at your face, so he let you dictate the time you needed until you gradually stopped crying. Slowly, your face lifted from his chest, finding Jongseong's face now a little softer and his bright eyes looking only at you.

“I'm sorry” you whispered. It didn't surprise you when he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours and lightly brushing the tip of his nose against yours. If it had been before, this would have left you completely static and nervous, but at that moment, it was the most calming thing he had done besides still hugging you.

“Don’t be sorry” he whispered back, the air from his lips hitting yours as one of Jongseong’s hands went up to your face, wiping away some tears.

“Could… Could you…” it would be bold of you to try that, but you needed it. Something inside your heart told you to ask, and that was exactly what you were going to do. “Can you stay here today, please?”

Jongseong smiled a little, still caressing your cheek with his fingertips as he moved down to your jaw.

“I’m glad you asked that” he said, his nose still brushing against yours. You could see the internal battle he was fighting between closing the distance and still respecting you and waiting for everything to calm down so he could get even closer. That in itself was making you even more enchanted because he took care of you down to the smallest detail “Because I wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.”

“Are you the one taking my mother to the doctor today?” Hazel frowned, glancing at Jongseong as she focused on the right amount of green leaves for the dish she was preparing.

He decided to just watch, as the movement was a little slow because it was the beginning of the workday. Resting his hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, he lightly pressed his fingers on the marble to try to contain the emotions that were bubbling inside his chest.

Jongseong thought he was making the same mistake as in his other failed relationships: he was too emotional and had thrown himself into something that hadn’t even come to fruition. He knew you were different from any woman he had ever met in his life, but the slight fear lingered in the back of his mind. What if you spoke like the others, or felt the same way?

You’re such a cliché, Jay. You don’t have to be so emotional.

He always heard that, and after a while, the women would simply leave. Claiming that the problem was the way he showed it. But what could he do if that was the case? That was what Jongseong did when he felt he was worth it.

People who aren’t worthy of you, Hazel would hammer those phrases home whenever he talked about how exhausted he was from people saying he was too emotional.

“My sister is just a little bit cornered because of our mother, but she won’t complain about your cliché” she added one night, one of the many they got together after work to talk about their day and plan their week at the restaurant. Hazel was Jongseong’s biggest supporter of you, and she made sure you two got along.

He was happy about that. Because at least someone, throughout the love life he had faced, wouldn’t think he was crazy for it.

And Jongseong found out that what Hazel – and all the other guys – said and encouraged him when it came to you was true. He was afraid to bring meals to your house and eat in your living room. It was too intimate, but at the same time, it was the only way he had found to be close to you since you never went out. The efforts were worth it with every shy smile you gave when he arrived with the bag of food.

Then, after a lot of talking – and a little arguing on your part – he wanted to take your mother to a doctor's appointment. It wasn't his obligation, of course, but Jongseong felt his heart heavy when he arrived at your house and saw you practically a sleep-deprived zombie. You hadn't slept the day before the exams, getting nervous about how your mother would handle it. So he thought he could take you so you could rest more.

“It's not your obligation and I'm not going to leave my mother alone” he remembers the shine in your eyes, your trembling voice, and the shortness of breath as you tried to hold back your tears. Tiredness, fear, anguish, all together as he stood in front of you, wanting only to do the best.

“I know that.” Jongseong took a few steps toward you, stopping right in front of you. “But nothing I do for you or your mother is out of obligation. I do it because I want to and because I like you both” He didn’t care if that statement – ​​at least on his part – was interpreted romantically. He would make a better announcement, he wanted to say that he liked you more romantically, but for now, that would do. “And your mother will be with me, who said she’ll be alone, Y/n?”

That night he knew he had won the argument and that he had started taking your mother to your appointments so you could sleep a little longer, only on the condition that you both told her every detail when you got home.

Jongseong and Dorothy told you what the doctor had said, of course. But they didn’t tell you that they ate fast food on the way, or that they were late because they were at the mall buying a new scarf for her and a matching shirt for him. Your mother already saw you as a potential son-in-law and Jongseong didn’t deny it when she asked you things about you in the sentimental sense of the word. He wanted to tell you openly about it, and the best way was to start with your mother. Since your sister and brother-in-law were well aware of that.

“I’ll go” he sighed, trying to hide a smile that was forming at the corner of his lips. That didn't go unnoticed by Hazel, who stopped what she was doing to look at her best friend. “It's her last chemotherapy, and we—” he couldn't help himself, his smile widening even more. “We're going in matching clothes.”

“What?” she almost shouted inside the kitchen, surprise taking over and causing Heeseung to enter the place with wide eyes.

“What? Did someone get hurt?”

“Jay and my mother are going to the last chemotherapy in matching clothes,” she practically shouted. “And they didn't tell anyone!”

It was Heeseung's turn to scream, with joy and surprise. He followed Jongseong's advances on you as much as everyone else in the restaurant, being updated by the boy and your sister since you were shy enough to say something when you went to the restaurant to meet them.

“Your mother asked us not to tell, it was supposed to be a surprise” he grumbled, pushing himself away from the counter as soon as Heeseung approached. He knew his friend would mess up his hair or squeeze him, so the further away he was from him at the moment, the better.

“Now you’ve ruined the surprise and we want to see it.”

“Okay, I can bring her after the appointment and you can all see. What do you think?” Jongseong said.

And he kept his promise that day. The short time he stayed at the restaurant was just to get things organized for his friends to drive for the rest of the day, while he ran out to the car and towards his house. His pastel blue shirt was the same color as some details of the scarf your mother was wearing that day.

You didn’t get to see them leave, keeping your promise that you would rest while Jongseong took you safely. He was happy to see that you were trusting him and taking a little more care of yourself, with the fear going away when you saw your mother finally recovered. It was a victory for everyone that she was going to her last chemotherapy.

“Ready, Miss Dorothy?” he asked as he parked, turning off the car and looking at his mother with a charming smile.

“Ready, future son-in-law” she said as excitedly as he was, taking him by surprise even though that had already come out of her mouth a few times. But not calling him directly future son-in-law. Dorothy was just expressing her desire to make Jongseong part of the family. That you would give him a chance and stop being so worried since she was getting better and managing to reach the end of her treatment.

He got out of the car and ran around the vehicle to open the door for your mother, with the way she called him still hammering in the back of his mind.

“Jay” Dorothy called him, intertwining one of her arms with his as they both headed towards the elevator of the hospital building. The path so familiar to both of them is now being taken one last time.

“Yes?” he replied, pressing the floor button while turning his head to her and smiling.

“How about dinner at home tonight? Hazel and Jake are also coming, I wish you were there to celebrate.” She tightened her grip on his arm a little, showing how happy she felt in the boy’s company.

His smile widened, he knew they could celebrate somehow, but being invited by your mother before anyone else seemed a little more special than if he were even invited by you.

“I would love to” Jongseong said finally before the elevator door opened.

Your mother and he left, with confident and determined steps, heading to the oncology desk to finish that cycle.

Life seemed to have taken a huge turn for you in the last few months. Your mother was finally cured of that damned disease. Your routine began to settle down when your sister, along with Jaeyun and Jongseong, managed to call the school where you previously worked. The principal of the place didn't think twice about accepting you back, especially after Hazel told the whole story in a little more detail.

You had omitted a lot of things, saying that your departure had been due to personal problems. It was. But no one needed to know about your mother's diagnosis, much less that you sank into it with no prospect of coming back to the surface.

Now, with the routine of working at school again with your classes, you still lived with your mother until you settled in a new place nearby. A small apartment on the outskirts was all you needed, different from your old place. It was relatively big, you loved it, but after the turmoil in your life… Just a space for you to have your things and sleep now and then was enough.

You let out a small sigh, closing the tab to search for apartments online as you looked around the room. You would have already left school if it weren't for Jongseong's request that he pick you up that day. Something like the two of you having dinner together to unload a tiring Friday was all he needed. And, apparently, so did you.

Because denying him that was out of the question. You remember rarely having denied him anything since the two of you met. Taking into account that he was the only one who managed to make you give in to the tiring routine you had with your mother. It was Jongseong who made you sleep a little longer while he took you to the doctor. You wouldn't even let Hazel drive to the hospital.

Sure, she had a child at home and you were afraid that she would catch something contagious on the way or simply get even more tired. But with him… It was all so much easier.

Jongseong settled into your life effortlessly, with the attitudes you always sought without knowing you needed. He was the one who brought you lunch on the days he was sure you were living on nothing but coffee – he wouldn’t tell you that he had memorized your routine, knowing exactly the days you were most agitated because of your mother’s medication or something she needed to do.

The two of you also started having more nighttime dates, like dinners out with the guarantee that you would take him home early so you wouldn’t be gone for so long. But you bit your tongue about it, because the time with him seemed to fly by and, before you knew it, you had spent the whole night talking to Jongseong and learning a little more about him.

About how he was patient with you all this time, touching you subtly and getting closer little by little, afraid to make a move and invade your personal space or disrespect you. The most you and he shared were kisses on the forehead and hugs that lasted a little longer. A few times you almost made a move, but there were such vulnerable moments when you were crying or exhausted enough to just do something thoughtless.

You also noticed that he would hold back whenever he was close enough, staring at your mouth for a little too long before nibbling on his lower lip, sighing, and looking back into your eyes. It made your heart race, your heartbeat pulsing uncontrollably. Both he and you wanted this, but it seemed like something always happened to make it not right. Yet.

Something inside you was boiling that day. Jongseong asking you to wait at work so he could pick you up was just the icing on the cake of your relationship. You were going to make a move today. There was no way out of it. If he thought it was still too early or that you two didn't need to take that step, that would be fine. You would understand. But you wouldn't stop trying at any cost.

Your cell phone vibrated, still in your hands, and you shivered in the chair with the slight fright you got.

jay: i'm around the corner from the school, can you wait for me in the parking lot?

A simple message, but you smiled at it. There was no need to reply, you just finished organizing your things inside the large bag, going to the bathroom to see your current state.

Shit. You swallowed hard.

Working at a school again made you forget the state you were in when you came home. The denim overalls you were wearing were stained with paint from the straps to the hem around your ankles, much of your arms were also stained with the same colors. Your hair was disheveled in a ponytail and your cheeks were flushed and shiny from the light marathon you ran after some little students during the day.

Well, you could fix that last part by splashing some water on your face. And that's what you did, drying it with a paper towel before leaving the bathroom.

Maybe Jongseong would drop you off at home so you could shower and change, that would take a while since you only needed a few minutes. Get the paint off your skin and the sweat off your body to look a little more presentable.

Picking up your bag again after leaving the bathroom, you walked through the school hallways until you reached the exit, waving to the doorman and some employees who were still there. Arriving at the parking lot, Jongseong was already there. You could feel his smile through the dark mirrors, even though they blocked the view from those outside. You quickly reached the car, opened the passenger door, and slowly got in.

“Hey” he greeted you softly, as he always did.

“Hey,” you said back, closing the door and adjusting your bag in the space between your feet. Turning to him, you smiled at the sight. He had a small, tired smile on his lips, but the sparkle in his eyes was always there when he had you around.

“Long day?” the same question he asked when he came to pick you up, testing the waters to see how you were feeling that day. If he should talk more or let you do the talking. Jongseong loved both.

“Somewhat” you leaned back a little more on the bench, your eyes still on the boy next to you who didn’t look away for a second “I think I prepared an activity that didn’t work out very well in the end” pointing to your clothes, he looked away to notice a little more.

The paints, the variety of colors, and, finally, your face. Your hair looked beautiful to him, even with the strands out of place although you had already tried to fix them with each stroke of your hand. He suppressed a sigh, biting his lower lip.

“You look beautiful like this” he let out, making no mention of any regret as his eyebrows rose.

“Jay, come on” you held back a shy laugh “I’m covered in paint… I was even going to ask you so I could go home and—”

“Actually” he interrupted you, raising one of his hands towards you and taking your hand in his. Jongseong had done this a million times, you had lost count, but it was as if it were the first time with each touch of his against your body. He brought your fingers to his lips, smelling your skin and closing his eyes as if that would calm him down for a moment. “I wanted to ask you if you don’t want to do something simpler today. Maybe different.”

“And what would that be?” you said quietly, afraid that your tone of voice would make him open his eyes. The boy’s breath was beating against your skin, warm and comforting.

“Dinner at my apartment” he squeezed his fingers lightly in your hand, opening his eyes to continue with the sentence “You can take a shower there if you want, I have something that will fit you if you need it.”

Wearing his clothes was quite intimate and different. You had only worn his coats when you went out somewhere and it was cold enough – you always forgot how many clothes you should put on on a cold night – and that was it. Nothing like a sweatshirt or a shirt. Especially taking a shower outside your house. He wasn’t a stranger, anyway.

“You…” your voice faltered a little, he still held your fingers against his lips, occasionally kissing your knuckles when he felt you a little more thoughtful and tense “Are you sure, Jay? We can leave it for another day…”

“I’m sure” he said seriously, but there wasn’t a hint of anger in his voice. He just wanted to steady any uncertainty you might have shown at that moment. He then sat up straight in his seat, still holding your hand lightly enough to intertwine his fingers with yours “My day was full and stressful, but I didn’t want to miss seeing you because…”

For a second he was quiet. One of the rare times Park Jongseong stopped talking mid-sentence without you interrupting him was because he thought he was talking too much.

“Because…?” you encouraged him, squeezing your hand in his for the first time.

With his free hand, Jongseong turned the key in the ignition and let the car slowly start moving. You slid your hand into him, letting him have both hands free so he could drive safely, but your hand still traveled to his shoulder. Soon sliding down to reach the hair on the back of his neck.

A position that screamed couple, but neither you nor him cared about that.

“Because you calm me down in a way” He was looking at the movement on the street now, leaving the parking lot of your work to go towards his apartment “I think it’s better than anything I could try to do in my day to make the stress go away.”

“And is dinner at your apartment a good idea? Don’t you want to rest?” you asked, trying to ignore the agitation of your heart as Jongseong leaned into the small caress you were giving his hair.

“Having dinner with you at my apartment is what I want most right now” he sighed tiredly, looking away for a brief second before returning to the other cars that were in traffic with him. “Taking a shower, talking about anything, and having your company until I fall asleep… I swear, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

This was even more of a couple than the touch you were doing in his hair, sliding your fingers down his neck to his shoulders, returning to the nape of his neck and tangling his hair again.

Even if he didn’t see it, Jongseong knew you were smiling. Shyly or not, he could feel a slight smile on your lips as you let the naked truth come out of your mouth.

Secretly, he also thought it was time to act, that he should take a step beyond what the two of you were. And it could start with you finally going to his house. Getting to know his space since he’d been to your house so many times.

He was taken by surprise when he stopped at a red light and felt the warmth of your lips against his cheek. He quickly turned towards you before realizing that, yes, you were indeed smiling.

“I think that’s the perfect idea” you said so quietly that he had to hold back as much as he could not to stop at that light, take off his seatbelt, and kiss you right there.

So Jongseong was content to wave, smiling a little more than you before moving forward when the light turned green. He was desperately looking forward to being home soon.

Jongseong had such a cozy apartment that screamed, in every corner, how much of it was him. From the colors to the decoration, you were enchanted by that place more than you thought you would be, forgetting the slight nervousness that settled inside you when you got there.

But little by little, he made you relax effortlessly. He guided you through the corners of the apartment and showed you each part, then he went to his room and separated a change of clothes for you that, according to him, were the ones he wore the least. But even so, those pieces smelled like him. The t-shirt and sweatpants smelled like Jongseong and you were becoming more and more addicted to it. To smelling his scent, to knowing that it was calming you to extreme levels.

After taking a shower, having dinner, and cleaning up all the mess you two made, sitting on the couch and watching something while talking was all that was left to do before going to sleep. Neither you nor he had brought up the subject of where you would sleep. In the bed with him? In the guest room? Would he let you sleep in the room alone and sleep there on the couch? If Jongseong didn't say anything, you wouldn't talk about it.

Especially because the weight of his head on your lap, the silky dark strands between your fingers, and the sound of his laughter after a funny subject were your focus at the moment. You wanted to have maximum attention on what was happening above anything else. Listening to him talk about Jaeyun's antics on a workday made you laugh a lot, it helped you share with him some things your best friend did back in the last year of high school.

“And he won Hazel over like that?” Jongseong turned his head to look up, his attention was now on you and no longer on the TV and the entertainment program that was on. Neither of you were paying much attention to that, anyway.

“You bet” you sighed loudly and dramatically, making Jongseong laugh. “These two have been pestering me for a week so I could play cupid.”

“And it worked” He was still looking at you, his eyes half-closed from the shared laughter while the two of you were still on that subject. But as the silence settled in, he remained looking in your direction, and that made your heart race. Your heartbeats went up to your ears as Jongseong’s gaze didn’t let you. “Now they both wanted to return the favor” He lowered his voice enough for you to hear him closer. It wasn’t quite a whisper, but it was low enough for a normal tone of voice.

Your eyes roamed all over his face, trying not to linger on his lips, freshly moistened by the tip of his tongue, which still contained a small smile.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying not to stutter or let your voice fail, but it was becoming increasingly impossible not to be nervous in front of him. Not when Jongseong lifted his head from your lap, sitting next to you on the couch, but without breaking the distance between the two of you.

He looked away for a few seconds and let out a little laugh, and you wondered if it was because of nervousness, shyness, or if he thought you were a fool for asking that. It was the first two, but you would never know that.

“Introducing you to me, making us both go out together whenever we had the chance” he began listing the little things that Jaeyun and Hazel had done for the two of you over the long months. You knew your sister and your best friend had given you a little push about it, but the biggest effort was Jongseong’s persistence.

You felt his hand find yours, his fingers slowly intertwining against yours. That gesture was starting to become familiar to both you and him.

“I didn’t persist in anything, I just… I let it happen because I wanted to” he whispered this time, and your eyes widened when you realized you had let your thoughts out loud.

“I didn’t— I mean… Damn” your low, displeased mutterings at yourself for being caught only made him laugh a little more, pulling your hand to his lap and bringing the other one to your face.

Moving your damp hair away from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear to get a better look at your face.

“Why do you think that way, Y/n?” he asked.

You thought about it for a bit, not knowing what to answer. Why did you think that way about someone who showed so much care and affection for you and the situation you were in without asking for anything in return? Maybe it was because it was something rare, almost nonexistent. No one you know – except for your family and your best friend – would do something like that. But he did. And he did it long before you knew him.

“I don’t know” was the only thing you could answer after a while because it was true. You weren’t sure what to say, but it seemed like he did.

Leaning towards you again, Jongseong rested his forehead against yours. Like that night in your kitchen, the closest gesture you had with each other. His breathing, unlike yours, was calm. Warm against your skin, almost making you sigh.

With a slow movement, he brought one of his hands to your face. His fingertips made their way from your cheek to your jaw, holding your face with all the gentleness you had known from that man in the last few months.

“I know it���s random to say this, but…” Jongseong began, speaking softly and slowly, giving a small smile when he met your eyes. They seemed bigger and more questioning, curious, and that was enough for him to continue, “I want to tell you because all my friends say you brought back the old, cliché Jongseong.”

A nod was enough for you to agree. First, curiosity had been eating away at you since the day Sunghoon had talked about it at the restaurant, the first night you had met all his friends, and him. Then, more and more, someone would say that phrase, making you even more thoughtful. Wanting to ask why that cliché had been hidden for so long.

Jongseong kept his hand holding your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek with random drawings against your skin. His other hand looked for yours and, when he found it, he made sure to hold it with the same affection he held your face. You tried to calm all your heartbeats at that moment as you listened to him speak.

“I was raised in a way that we should show care and gratitude in our way, to the people we love and who do us good” He kept his eyes on yours, never letting them fall anywhere else on your face. Jongseong wanted to capture every second of your reaction and attention as he opened up in that conversation “I've always been someone who did everything for the people around me without expecting anything in return.”

He was too kind and you knew it, but hearing that only confirmed your suspicions. Hearing him say with so much affection everything he did for his friends, for his family. You even dared to let out a little laugh when he told you that he left home at two in the morning to hit the road for the first time and meet Heeseung, who was at the beach house alone and feeling sick.

“He wanted to go before us to organize the house, but he got food poisoning and I ran to take him to the hospital” was the simplest, yet cutest explanation you heard.

That was Jongseong through and through, the guy who had done everything for you, your mother, and your sister in the last few months. Every gesture, every moment of company. The weight you felt thinking you were taking advantage of him gradually faded away as he told you everything he did for people. Until he cleared his throat a little.

“Do you want to stop here?” you said for the first time since you started that subject, feeling your voice crack a little due to lack of use.

“No, it’s okay” you felt him squeeze your hand lightly, a small smile forming on his lips. Resentment? Sadness? You didn't know, but you wanted to hear it anyway “I want you to know.”

You nodded once more and listened to every word with the same attention. You knew that Jongseong would have other relationships. After all, a man like that couldn't have gotten this far without trying anything in life. It was a sin to think that he would be immaculate. But a wave of sadness washed over you, not because of that, but because of the way he started telling the story.

He only had two girlfriends. But they were enough to traumatize him. Jongseong did everything for them, as he did for anyone in his life, but they both ended up the same way: calling him an idiot for doing everything, saying that he was too passive and that the relationship was monotonous. Without adventure and boring. The first one left him less than two weeks after the breakup, going to live abroad. The second one took a while, but she came back to torment him when he opened the restaurant.

“She went there today” he said, almost in a whisper. “After I started making money, it seems like I became even more of an idiot because she tried to get closer out of interest. And that drives me crazy.”

It would drive anyone crazy, of course. You wanted to feel uncomfortable and jealous that someone who had done him so much harm was around on the same day you were with him. But all you could think about was the sadness Jongseong must have felt. Seeing someone he had tried everything for show up just to want something in return.

After all the trauma that followed, he had closed himself off to clichés and managed to do this only to his friends. No one had ever accessed the old, old Jongseong again. Until you arrive.

“That’s why I say that everything I did was because I wanted to” he got a little closer, his breath getting hotter and hotter against your skin “You rescued something in me effortlessly. Something that I thought was buried after what I went through.”

“Now I understand” you replied, letting go of his hands and holding Jongseong’s face between your small fingers. Your touch on his skin sent shivers all over his body. He thought he was warm after his bath and a nice dinner, but your touch made it even better “I just thought I was being a burden because I kept even Hazel away from what was going on.”

“But you don’t have to do this to me” Jongseong had a pleading tone in his voice, you could feel it in every word. “Because I like you and I want to be around to do everything I can.”

I like you. He said. Without pause, without wide eyes or regrets. You smiled without realizing it.

“I like you too, Jongseong. And I promise not to stop you from anything else in my life.”

“Oh, that’s good” he teased “Won’t you stop me if I kiss you now too?” your laugh was the sound he liked to hear the most in the last few months. The sound he liked to tease just to feel complete.

“You can do it whenever you want” was the cue for him to finally lean in and press his lips against yours. They were soft and warm, and you could feel him smile against your lips before parting his to press the tip of his tongue between your lips.

Your hands slid to Jongseong's shoulders and, as soon as he entwined his tongue with yours, tasting you, he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap. You kept your protests of surprise to yourself, settling yourself on his lap at the same time that you became familiar with having his tongue subtly touch yours.

Jongseong was taking it slow, savoring your taste and molding his mouth to yours as he led the pace of the kiss, resting his hands on your waist to keep you in place on top of his lap. Your head was spinning, wondering where he got so much courage to do that… He was the one who took great care to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, and scream into the pillow when he got to the apartment because he had been so close to your mouth and hadn't even managed to lean in.

But now here you two were, pressing your mouths against each other and feeling the rhythm of the kiss change every time Jongseong tightened his grip on your waist or you tangled your fingers in his hair to pull.

The breaking point was when you unconsciously shifted on his lap. The slight brush of your hips against his newly growing bulge made Jongseong gasp against your lips and swallow a moan that he knew would be loud enough. Instead, he slid his lips over yours and down to your neck to kiss and lick your skin.

He had no idea where your sweet spot might be, what to do with you, and how to proceed. Not wanting to cross any boundaries that day. So he went carefully, slowly kissing his way down your neck to below your ear, feeling your body shiver against his lap and your hips press into him a little more. It was your turn to let out a low noise, he knew it could very well be a moan if you weren't so shy.

“Don't hold back for me, Y/n” he whispered against your skin, sliding his teeth on your earlobe and moving down to your neck again “I want to hear you.”

Why had that simple, stupid sentence stuck right in the middle of your panties? Jongseong couldn't be serious, he simply couldn't say that kind of thing and pretend it had no effect on you.

Your response was a small nod, thinking better of returning what he was doing against your skin. As the kisses became more intense and wet, you decided to follow the movement of his mouth against your skin with your hips circling over his. The brush of Jongseong's cock against your pussy, the layer of clothing creating a nice friction in the sensitive area that you and he both wanted to touch so much.

“Fuck” he murmured against your collarbone, his fingers tightening on your hips, but not stopping you from moving on his lap. If he was guiding the pace of the kisses and marks he was leaving on your skin, he would let you guide the pace on his lap.

One of Jongseong’s hands left your hips to pull the shirt you were wearing, the collar going down enough on your skin to show your collarbone where he could continue the session of kisses and marks on you.

Your smile grew, along with the shivers running through your body with each kiss of his and each intensity with which his hips moved. The sweatshirts you both wore weren’t that thick, but it was a hindrance to have that amount of clothing between you and him, even so, it was something you would work on. Not to tease him, but to make it even hotter.

So you pressed your chest against his, hiding Jongseong's face against your neck and collarbone, keeping your hips so close that one movement forward and you could feel the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against your needy clit.

“Jay” you moaned his nickname for the first time, making the boy go into an internal meltdown at how that sounded to him. It was beautiful. A perfect sound that he never thought he would hear in his life. If you moaned like that just because of the way you and him were, Jongseong wanted to imagine the aftermath of it.

“Yes, love” he replied against your skin, lifting his face and placing a slow kiss against your chin. His eyes stared at you with so much affection but at the same time with so much desire that it made your head spin. His hands were still on your hips and he pulled you even further forward, rubbing your clit against the head of his cock again, sliding the entire length over his sweatpants “You're doing so good, you know that?”

You only had the strength to agree, nodding and moaning his name as you moved a little more willingly against Jongseong's clothed cock. He dared a little, the teasing was too much, but he didn't want to stop. Leaning back, he pulled your body along so that you were both more comfortable on the couch.

Now, he had enough strength to support his feet on the floor and push his hips up to go against your movements, so both you and him could feel each other's arousal even more.

Your panties were already sticking against the lips of your pussy, you knew that a few more frictions and your juices would be passing through his sweatpants. It would be shameful if you weren't seeing Jongseong's determination to follow your movements, moaning your name and pressing his lips against your jaw every time he knew he could moan louder when you rubbed in a specific way against his cock.

Something inside you was on fire, the knot in your stomach was getting closer and closer to bursting, and by the way, Jongseong was moaning, grunting, and pushing his hips against yours, you knew he couldn't be that far away.

It wouldn't be shameful to cum like that, after all, the friction was as good as the penetration. And you would be bold enough to ask for this to continue in his room. You promised you wouldn't let anything go by.

Another kiss was initiated, this time by you as you felt your clit throb every time it was pressed in an even more delicious way. The wet noise muffled by the sweatshirt, you couldn't tell if it was from your pussy or his cock, but either way, the pleasure was being very well distributed. You nibbled on Jongseong's lower lip, releasing slightly with a pop as you rested your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

“Jay, I—” you lifted your body, arching your butt a little higher to give more momentum to your movements. He placed his hands on either side of your buttocks, letting you slide down his cock even though you were still dressed.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Your nod was the answer he needed, pulling you into a messy kiss as he thrust his hips again and intensified the rubbing with you.

The feeling was surreal. Cumming in your panties while still riding your orgasm with the shallow thrusts and over the clothes that Jongseong gave you to help you reach your peak. You moaned against his mouth, watching him swallow all your moans just as you did with his. His hips stuttered, but never really stopped to prolong that sensation until it bordered on overstimulation.

You fell against his chest, tired and panting. A little embarrassed by the sticky feeling between your legs, your cheeks started to heat up and you wondered if it was from the orgasm you had just had or if it was because reality was setting in and you had just dry-humped Jongseong.

Your eyes slowly opened, searching for his as he was already looking at you. A tired smile adorned the lips you loved kissing, along with a blush on the tanned skin you were addicted to. Both you and him looked down at the same time, and his chuckle made you feel a little more relaxed.

It wasn't just your sweatshirt that was sticky, but the large stain on his pants told you that the orgasm had been intense for both of you.

“We can clean ourselves up and lie down if you want” he whispered, his voice husky and deep, sending shivers down your entire body even after the intense orgasm you had had. Leaning towards him, you kissed Jongseong's lips and smiled slowly.

“Or we can continue this after we clean up too” you whispered back.

“Bold” he chuckled softly, “But I like it.”

“That’s good, right?”

“That’s great” he finished, kissing you once more before hugging your body to his. “Since you’re being bold, can I too?”

He had more time to be bold than you that night, but you would never stop Jongseong from being bold. From being cliché. You would never stop him from anything. So you just agreed, feeling him hug you even tighter as you hugged him back.

“I wanted to tell you that this apartment is too big for just one person” he hummed, his face slowly hiding in the crook of your neck. His smile grew bigger and bigger as he saw the fresh marks on your skin starting to turn a reddish color. You chuckled softly, already imagining where the conversation was going “Maybe you and I can share it. Only if you want, of course.”

He shrugged, outwardly pretending that it didn’t matter. But deep down Jongseong was afraid of your answer. He was afraid that he had been too invasive, even though the moment you two shared a few minutes ago had been more than intimate.

“Are you asking me to live with you?” your tone was playful, but even so, he still didn’t dare to look at you. He kept his face buried in your neck. He only agreed with a slight nod as he murmured, “I’ll need to see if your bed is good to sleep in every night, then.”

“Or we can do it on the couch every day. It’s comfortable here, isn’t it?” He finally lifted his head, his bright and inviting eyes making you sigh – internally and externally. It was your turn to rest your forehead against his, brushing the tip of your nose against Jongseong’s.

“Anywhere is comfortable with you” you whispered, kissing him slowly “You’ve convinced me.”

“Great” it was his turn to kiss your lips, sliding his hands from your waist to your legs, picking you up. Finally, he stood up with you in his arms, accompanied by your little screams and laughter along with his “Because I didn’t intend to let you go, anyway.”

It was so good to have let him into your life. And even better that he stayed because, honestly, you didn’t know if you would have been able to endure everything up until that moment without him.

You would be immensely grateful to your sister and Jaeyun for having introduced you that day at the restaurant, after all, they were both just repaying what you did years ago. Jongseong was right about that.

© ikeuverse, 2025. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[bagholes]

English subtitles for Johanne Sacreblue

You've probably heard of a parody of Emilia Pérez (produced by a Mexican trans woman!!!) called Johanne Sacreblue. The whole thing is in Spanish (and French, obviously), so I translated the whole thing to English (see read more)

While I wasn't involved in the production of the original short, I'm Mexican and I have a degree in Translation and Applied Linguistics, so hopefully you'll enjoy my translation. Please give the video some love and don't give Emilia Pérez more attention!!

!!!!!!!! ENGLISH SUBTITLES !!!!!!!!!

(Hey! I'm a professional translator, and I translated the whole thing in English. Please upvote so more people can enjoy this video!)

Ah, nauseating France.   

Home of wonderful food such as baguettes, croissants, and more.

Lots of wonderful people live here.

Obviously, we’re French. 

This might look like a love story,

but open your eyes and pay attention!

In France there’s rising burglary rates. 

But why tell you about France when I can show you?

Welcome to la France!

♫

Welcome to la France.

A unique and special country.

Where you’ll know what it means to truly love. Love, love from France.

Live the experience of this place. 

[Homer Simpson voice] Wow, classy.

Maitre D': Good evening, sir. Would you please leave without a fuss right now?

Homer: OK.

Welcome to la France

where you’ll get your heart stolen,

and your wallet, too.

Welcome to la France,

but if you’re Muslim, homosexual, or Black,

I want you to stay back. 

Crêpes? Les crêpes? I didn’t shower today. 

I’m not worried. I smell just fine. 

Like rats, sweat, and wine.

The cheese I eat smells better than me,

but my perfume can take care of it. 

I love feeling superior. 

Here’s some rapping just because. 

Oh, mon ami. Merci. Sacré bleu. Comment tu t’appelles? Merci. Déjà vu. Bon voyage! Pizza, kwason. 

It’s croissant, croissant, croissant!

Welcome to la France

where you’ll get your heart stolen,

and your wallet, too.

Welcome to la France,

but if you’re Muslim, homosexual, or Black,

I want you to stay back. 

Hit it, Mbappé. 

Viva Cinco the Mayo!

Long live cakes!

Marie Antoinette! 

Long live cakes!

My fucking crêpe still hurts when I think of you

Part 1: surprise and challenge.

Maybe all those years living in a ranch were good for him.

He wasn’t living in a ranch!

He lived in Mexico City for ten years.

Same thing. It might as well have been a jungle.

Mexicans are savages. 

Do you know what they do to cheese over there?

They eat it fresh!

I don’t think he copied their ways.

He’s still a good Frenchman.

He better be. I expect no less.

He’s my only son. 

All the suffering in Mexico must’ve gotten rid of his rebel nature. 

He’ll be the perfect man. The perfect male successor for the largest baguette company in France.

My son. My manly son. 

Did I already mention that my son is a man?

He’s here!

Maman, papa… bonjour!

Son of a-

[title credits] Johanne Sacreblue. Directed by someone with ADHD.

What were you up to in Mexico?

I learned how to open a beer using a bill.

Jonathan is using a dress, Bridgitte. And he has breasts! What do you think he was up to in Mexico?

Now my name is Johanne.

Nonsense! You’re not getting the company. No way. 

That’s fine. I don’t even want it. 

Honey, it’s your future. You’re our only DAUGHTER. You have to take the position. 

You’ll get the company. End of story. 

You don’t even want me to own the company!

Because I didn’t think it’s what you wanted!

Why did we stop speaking French?

What did you say?

Nothing. I got confused.

I’ll tell you something: remember the Ratatouille? They gave us this letter. They challenged us to the national France competition to decide once and for all what’s better: baguettes or croissants. 

Do you want to enjoy your fortune? Win this competition and manage the company. Or go back to Mexico to eat guacamole.

For the last time, no! You won’t get the company. 

I’m the only one who’s always loved croissants.

I’m the oldest son. It’s my right. 

Your right? How can think that about your brothers?

Any of them could do a good job.

Hugo can’t get over his artistic phase and he’s addicted to sniffing paint thinner!

I’m not just sniffing paint thinner! Yellow paint makes me happy.

Mario Hugo! Good luck with his twangy voice.

Mario Hugo: I agree with my beloved brother, but I love you, my family. 

No one knows what you’re saying!

Dugo is young! Why can’t it be me?

Well, first of all, you don’t have a penis!

Oof. Gotcha.

I’m trans. Other than that, I haven’t changed at all. 

Does it really affect you that much?

I’ve made myself clear: anything that affects our family affects me!

It’s not that we don’t love you, honey, it’s just that… you embarrass us. 

You’re not even an Hugo!

Yes, I am! I’m [French accent] Arturo! (Translator’s note: the rhyme got lost in translation. Sorry about that). 

“Arturo” isn’t “Hugo”!

Yes, it is! Ar-tu-ro!

Where did you get that?

Well… Chofls!! The letter!

The Sacrebleu have invited us to the Great Paris Competition. We will show once and for all what food item best represents our country! If you beat that family’s stupid transexual, you’ll get the company

I don’t know what to do, bestie. I don’t want to own that goddamn company. 

And why don’t you learn how to do something?

Because if I do it, they’re gonna cut me off, and I’ll be an unemployed, 28-year-old trans woman who has no life skills. 

Why don’t you just tell your father that you don’t want to do it and that you won’t do it?

It’s too late. I have no choice. 

Bestie, I’m so sorry you can’t enjoy your fortune with no commitment.

It’s awful…

Good evening, ladies. What can I get you?

I’ll have some French molletes.

I’ll have chicken.

Of course, ma’am. How shall we cook it?

Anything is fine as long as you kill it as cruelly as possible. 

Excellent choice, ma’am.

Anything else? Would that be all?

That’ll be all. Well, actually, I think I also want-

You said that would be all! You must assume the consequences of your decisions. Rot in hell! [spits]

Oh my, what a great service!

I know! They have the best customer service in France! Okay, so are you signing up for the competition?

I really don’t have a choice…

Bestie, you can do anything. You’re stronger than every woman I know, and I’m not just saying this because you used to be a man…

Thanks for the clarification.

You’re gonna compete and you’re gonna win.

Emily, you have no idea how much that means to me. You’re the only reason I wanted to come to Paris. I wanted to see my friend Emily in Paris. It was the only reason I wanted to come tot this city: see Emily in Paris.

Oh là là, I know! Everyone tells me that! What I don’t get is why you don’t want to compete. This is such an honor for France-

It’s just that there’s a lot of things I don’t understand since I came back. Why are we so impolite? Why do we love animal cruelty? And why exactly do we hate Muslims? 

Because it’s fun!

Yeah, maybe, but have you ever considered that it’s wrong?

Oh my God! You’re right! I’d never thought about it! We’re awful!

Oui!

What we do to birds… we drown them in cognac! Why are we doing it? Who thought of that?

I don’t know.

I feel.. dirty! I want to take a shower!

I knew I wasn’t crazy!

Seriously… I never thought that we were doing something wrong. I always thought that people who get minimum wage liked how we treat them. No wonder they sent you to Mexico… You’re crazy.

I got sent to Mexico for being trans.

They sent you to Mexico because you’ve been hallucinating. You’re seeing Marie Antoinette.

I’m not hallucinating! It’s the actual ghost of Marie Antoinette.

Marie Antoinette: don’t listen to hear. She dresses like a Guatemalan. I’m as real as my tragic death. They should behead her for having such damaged hair.

There’s no point in knowing the truth about France. At the end of the day, I’m just an ordinary French millionaire with enough money to live for four days. There’s nothing I can do.

Marie Antoinette: [unintelligible] sleep paralysis at night.

If you win, all of France will listen to you.

Ladybug: Welcome to the most important competition of la France, where France’s most important families will make a very important decision.

Cat Noir: that’s right! We’re here to make a very important decision. What food best represents France: baguettes or croissants?

Our fellow citizens will know what we’re talking about, but for those dirty foreigners that only know how to use soap…

Wear perfume!

We’ll explain the rules.

There’s two events: whoever wins both will be victorious!

The first even will be a race! The first one to reach the Eiffel tower, touch it and say our catchphrase “we give up!” will be the winner!

Without further ado, we’re heading to the competition!

It’s the best race I’ve seen years!

The Ratatouille throw a croissant to the Sacreblue and almost slashes her throat. It’s cat-tastic!

But Johanne takes the lead with 400 rats, and she wins the race!

Rats! Meow!

Here she comes!

Vive la France!

Your love for croissants ends here. What an embarrassment!

Don’t feel bad, honey. I never really expected anything from you. 

Arturo, I’m not gonna lie…

Brother, defeat will only make you stronger.

What?

You’re a great man. You’ll make it. 

Can I have five French dollars to buy yellow paint? I want to paint. 

Later that night in some French dumpster

♫

I’m just a trash man in Paris.

Another piece of trash in Paris.

But I’m also the greatest trash

I’m the trash man.

I’m such trash that I made a fortune using other cultures.

I’m such trash that I enjoy cancelling last minute

because I’m scared 

that they’ll see my tiny baguette.

I don’t have the guts to say that I fucked up.

I’m scared to know what people think of me

If I’m a good guy or just a bald bad guy

I’m such trash that it’s embarrassing.

I thought Karla Sofia was from Puebla.

I’m such trash that I wrote a musical about narcos.

“Penis to vagina, woman to man.”

What the fuck was that shit, bro?

I’m disgusting, don’t you see? 

I’m disgusting, don’t you see? 

Part 2: from hate to love

Why did you ask me to meet you here?

[sigh] I came to ask you to stop fighting over something as dumb as bread.

Baguettes are just bread, but croissants are France itself. It’s in our veins, in our wine, in the air we breathe!

Arturo, wait, don’t do it!

[coughing]

You can’t take a deep breath in France. Dumbass.

Whatever. You’re just saying this because you’ve been away for a long time. You’re nothing but a chimichanga lover. 

Cinco de Mayo!

How dare you!

Does it make you feel good to be a man hitting a woman?

Actually, yes. Now I get why we do it.

I’ve had enough! I can’t take it anymore! What’s wrong with France? Why do they like to hit women? Why do they like racism? Can’t you see that what we’re doing is wrong?

Actually, no. I had never thought about it. I never considered that… Oh my God… We’re monsters! What are we doing? We must put an end to this!

But how?

You’ll do it with me. With your amazing arguments, we’ll change France. 

Do you think it can be done? But how?

Oui, mademoiselle. If you let me win the second event, it’ll be a tie, and they’ll have to listen to us according to the French rules I hadn’t mentioned before. 

I don’t know if I can trust you.

Trust me, mademoiselle. Trust this stinky French heart.

Alright. Kiss me.

Do you want me to kiss you?

Yes. Give me a French kiss.

Here it’s just “a kiss”, stupid

Welcome to the second competition!

This is the most fabulous competition! It’s the racism competition!

That’s right, Cat Noir! And for those stupid Americans who don’t know what we’re talking about, in this competition, participants are given a total of 30 minutes to deport and catch as many immigrants as possible.

Everything is allowed: from making up crimes to blackmailing! 

Each Muslim is worth 5 points. However, participants can get extra points from hate crimes against Muslims, Black people, Latinos, members of the LGBT community, and fans of Emily in Paris!

Let’s watch the racism competition!

We apologize for the technical issues. Cat Noir had a fanatic episode. 

It was amazing! With a great lead, our winner, Arturo, was victorious. So we’ll have to call this a tie. 

Oh! For the first time in more than ten years, we’re getting some words from our ten French emperors!

Stop!

There… won’t be… a tie!

This decision will no longer be postponed. 

 Declaramos abierto el duelo final.

And it’ll happen right now.

Because I love Queen Marie Antoinette.

The final duel…

It’s the fight to the death with baguettes!

Good luck! And may the Frenchest win. Yes. Oui. Oui. Oui.

[Elmo]

Part 3: destiny

Fight to the death with baguettes?!

Fight to the death with baguettes?!

Fight to the death with baguettes?!

I think there’s gonna be a fight to the death with baguettes.

What? Fight to the death with baguettes? What’s that?

Oh, fight to the death with baguettes. I’ve heard about it. I think they’re gonna fight to the death… with baguettes.

[gasp]

Johanne: I don’t want to fight to the death with baguettes with you.

Arturo: Neither do I, but we have no choice.

J: Yes, there is. Haven’t they considered that this is wrong?

No!

Arturo: Papa Johns!

Papa Johns: I pitted your families against you with a little help from whom you love the most… your butlers. 

Arturo: Chofls!

Johanne: Wigles, why?

Wiggles: I’m sorry, madame. I need the money, and you haven’t given me raise in 25 years. 

Papa Johns: I’ll destroy you so the greatest French food gets recognition: French fries!

Johanne: You’re losing a lot of wine.

Johanne: you have a rat on your head!

Papa Johns: this tiny chef taught me his secrets, and I used them for evil. 

Wigles: I think I got Stockholm syndrome due to so many years of labor exploitation.

And that’s how we got away from the bad guy, Mr. French ambassador. 

Controlled by a rat… The nightmare of every French. Ladies and gentlemen, that’s how Johanne Sacreblue and Arturo Ratatouille restored the glory of France. What a captivating story you’ve brought us, full of pain and social commentary. Is there anything else you would like to add before we run out of funds?

Well, actually, yes. As many of you know, I went to Mexico, and my fellow Mexicans asked me to bring a gift to France when I came back, and what a better person to give it to than the ambassador? 

Oh, what wonderful surprise have you brought from Mexico? Could it be some wonderful Mexican tortillas?

Wait… Is that-

Yes, a cake. Un gâteau. 

[Credits]

And that’s the story of how your parents saved la France.

Thanks for telling me these stories, grandma.

My grand-son. My grand-son, a boy…

[sigh] 

♫

Tito, my grandson Tito (translator’s note: another rhyme that got lost in translation. Sorry again). Tito, tito. My grandson Tito. 

You smell like frog legs in the morning.

You smell like you haven’t showered in weeks. 

You smell like a moldy baguette.

You smell like the omelette that I ate. 

You smell like cheese. Smelly, smelly!

You smell like your grandma.

Tito, Tito, Tito, my grandson Tito. 

You smell like snails. You smell like escargot.

You smell like France. 

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ Under the Table (Sevika x Reader) ✞⛧

Warnings: This is explicit content. If you’re into dominant Sevika, public play, and a lot of teasing, you’re in for a ride, fingering.

Summary: You’re sitting in the dim, buzzing corner of The Last Drop, just another night in the Sump. But Sevika? She’s anything but ordinary. As you try to keep things casual, she’s got other plans—slipping her hand up your skirt, teasing you under the table while you try (and fail) to keep your composure. Her fingers are relentless, and the public setting only makes it all the more arousing.

You’re sitting in the dimly lit corner booth of the Sump’s finest—or at least its least grimy—watering hole, The Last Drop. The air is thick with the scent of spilled ale and burnt oil, the hum of conversation blending with the occasional clink of glasses. Across from you, Sevika leans back in her seat, her muscular frame relaxed but commanding, her grey eyes sharp and calculating. She’s wearing that red poncho, the one that screams power and loyalty, her copper prosthetic arm resting on the table, catching the flicker of the overhead lights. Her lip piercing glints as she smirks at you, her brownish-black lipstick smudged just slightly, like she’s been biting her lip. It’s a subtle detail, but it makes your stomach flip.

You’re halfway through a plate of something vaguely edible, trying to keep the conversation light, when her hand—the organic one—slips onto your thigh under the table. Your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you shift slightly, your skirt riding up just enough to give her more access. Her fingers inch higher, slow and deliberate, her touch warm against your skin. You glance at her, but she’s looking at your plate, her expression casual, like she’s not doing anything at all.

"You gonna finish that?" she asks, her voice low and rough, her fingers brushing the edge of your panties.

You shake your head, your heart pounding as her fingertips dip beneath the fabric, tracing the seam of your folds. You can feel how wet you already are, and the fact that she’s doing this here, in public, only makes it worse—or better, depending on how you look at it. You take a shaky bite of your food, trying to act normal, but her fingers are relentless, teasing and circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your thighs clench.

Sevika’s smirk deepens. "You’re quiet tonight," she says, her tone casual, like she’s commenting on the weather. Her fingers slip lower, pressing against your entrance, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep from making a sound. "Something on your mind?"

"N-no," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. You’re hyper-aware of the other patrons around you, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of voices, but Sevika doesn’t seem to care. Her fingers push inside you, slow and deliberate, and your breath catches in your throat. She curls them, stroking that sweet spot inside you, and your eyes flutter shut for a moment before you force them open, trying to keep it together.

"That’s what I thought," she says, her voice low and teasing. She leans forward slightly, her free hand resting on the table, her prosthetic arm gleaming in the low light. "You’re always so… responsive."

Her words make your cheeks burn, but you don’t argue. How could you, when her fingers are moving so perfectly inside you, her thumb brushing against your clit in lazy circles? You’re trying to keep your hips still, but it’s impossible when she’s doing that, when she’s touching you like this, like she knows exactly how to make you fall apart.

A waiter approaches, and panic shoots through you. Sevika doesn’t stop, though. If anything, she speeds up, her fingers pumping into you faster, her thumb pressing harder against your clit. You can feel the pressure building, your body tightening, but you can’t—not here, not now.

"Anything else I can get you two?" the waiter asks, his tone polite, oblivious to what’s happening under the table.

Sevika looks at him, her expression calm, like she’s not currently fingering you in the middle of a crowded bar. "Dessert," she says, her voice steady. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

She’s looking at you now, her grey eyes sharp and challenging, and you know she’s forcing you to answer. You can barely think, let alone speak, but you manage to choke out a few words, your voice trembling. "I—I’ll have the… the chocolate cake."

The waiter nods. "Good choice. I’ll be right back with that."

As soon as he’s gone, Sevika’s fingers move faster, her thumb circling your clit in tight, relentless circles. You’re so close, and she knows it, her smirk deepening as she watches you struggle to keep quiet. "You’re such a mess," she murmurs, her voice low and rough. "And you love it, don’t you?"

You nod, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "Yes," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Please, Sevika—"

"Please what?" she interrupts, her fingers still moving, still driving you closer to the edge. "Use your words."

You’re trembling now, your thighs shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the table. "Please let me cum," you beg, your voice breaking.

She chuckles, low and dark, and then she’s curling her fingers just right, her thumb pressing hard against your clit, and you’re coming, your body tensing, your hips jerking as you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out. Sevika doesn’t stop, her fingers working you through it, prolonging the waves of pleasure until you’re a trembling, gasping mess.

Finally, she pulls her hand away, and you slump back in your seat, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Sevika leans back, looking smug as she lifts her fingers to her mouth, licking them clean with deliberate slowness. "Delicious," she says, her voice low and teasing.

You’re still trying to catch your breath when the waiter returns with your dessert, oblivious to what just happened. Sevika smirks at you, her grey eyes gleaming with mischief as she picks up her fork. "Enjoy your cake, sweetheart," she says, her voice low and rough. "You’ve earned it."

[scealaiscoite]

‧₊˚ 🫂 ✩ things to do for someone

¹⁾ fixing their tie

²⁾ tucking them into bed

³⁾ doing up their seatbelt

⁴⁾ tying their shoelaces

⁵⁾ opening their car door

⁶⁾ pulling out their chair for them

⁷⁾ buying them flowers

⁸⁾ reminding them to take their medication

⁹⁾ encouraging their hobbies

¹⁰⁾ cooking them dinner

¹¹⁾ washing their hair

¹²⁾ remembering all their details

¹³⁾ laying a blanket over them when they fall asleep on the sofa

¹⁴⁾ making their tea/coffee just how they like it

¹⁵⁾ defending their name when they’re not present

¹⁶⁾ letting them sleep in

¹⁷⁾ packing them lunch

¹⁸⁾ cutting them off at the bar

¹⁹⁾ doing the household chores they hate

²⁰⁾ helping them shave

²¹⁾ taking care of them when they’re sick

²²⁾ celebrating their accomplishments, regardless of significance

²³⁾ keeping their favourite foods at your place

²⁴⁾ getting up in the middle of the night to fetch them water

²⁵⁾ grabbing them a heatpack

²⁶⁾ fixing their cufflinks

²⁷⁾ helping them bathe

²⁸⁾ cooking them dishes from home

²⁹⁾ taking off their shoes

³⁰⁾ picking them up from a bar

³¹⁾ giving them a massage after a long day

³²⁾ running them a bath

³³⁾ patching up their injuries

³⁴⁾ helping them get dressed when their arm’s in a sling

³⁶⁾ reading to them

³⁷⁾ giving them your jacket when it’s cold out

³⁸⁾ planning dates/hangouts

³⁹⁾ crashing on the floor/couch so they can have the bed

⁴⁰⁾ taking blame so they don’t have to

⁴¹⁾ being their designated driver

⁴²⁾ valuing their creations

⁴³⁾ letting them rant

⁴⁴⁾ taking them on late-night drives to ease their mind

⁴⁵⁾ surprising them with little gifts

⁴⁶⁾ pushing them behind you

⁴⁷⁾ walking closest to the road

⁴⁸⁾ taking care of tasks for them

⁴⁹⁾ making appointments

⁵⁰⁾ baking for them

[pastafossa]

This is ABSOLUTELY Pippin, this is the perfect description for what he does as a herding breed??? Rules he follows but was not taught:

If the stair chair takes his Grammie upstairs where He Cannot Go, he must alert all of us and bring us to the stairs to watch her go up safely.

Normally, he wants to be where the most people are. If there's a room with 3 people and a room with 1 person, he's choosing the room with 3 people, unless that room with 1 person is in the kitchen. It's not even that he wants to get food off the floor if dropped, he doesn't really care about that. It's just that, for reasons known only to him, all kitchen activity, even getting a glass of water, must be Collie Supervised TM at all times.

He must walk through the bushes and not around them on walks. All bushes on his side of the sidewalk must be walked through or over.

When the cats are fed for the last time at night, you MUST open his crate and put him to bed. It doesn't matter when. You can feed the cats two hours early, before his bedtime, and he will STILL require you put him to bed. He'll open the crate himself if he has to, and sit inside staring a hole into the side of your head until you come put him to bed with his final treat. You also can't trick him by giving him the treat and leaving the crate open. The door must be closed. The Crate Rule is something he just came with, the rescue has no idea where from (when he lived on that horrid farm, he was just left outside at all hours. At best he slept in the barn in the hay. He had no crate). But damned if he has not created The Crate Rule and follows it to the letter.

He has a rule about refusing to bark to go out. He will bark at everything else - other dogs, wind noises, package trucks, a leaf falling in Australia. He'll bark to alert us to things in the house. But he will never. ever. EVER. Bark to go out. Instead, he does a Blair Witch reenactment at the door: he stands, face mashed against the door, and waits silently until he is noticed because for some reason, he's allowed to bark about everything but his desire to go out and pee (or eat snow).

Chaotic lawful sounds about right.

fun thing about herding and/or generally neurotic breeds: they are really good at following rules you have instituted, but they will also make their own Dog Rules they will follow stringently whether or not you like it

[koralcove]

since it's established that caleb cooks for you (us/mc), imagine after reuniting with one another that he's noticed how thin you've gotten compared to when he last saw you. with the ongoing investigation about the aether core and grieving for your (supposedly) dead family, you haven't had time to take care of yourself well enough. you're mostly driven on energy via takeouts, eating out, and snacking for when you remember to take a break. and when he runs his thumb softly on your cheek, he can practically feel the comparison of how you've lost the chub on your face that he used to affectionately (and annoyingly, on your part) squeeze and pinch on. but it's nothing that he can't fix with spoiling you with his cooking. so every day, he makes it a mission to make time to cook your favourite meals and dishes that he knows you've missed since he'd been gone, and within a week, he can already see the plumpness of your cheeks taking shape to what he used to know. when you start to complain that your shorts seem a bit tight on you and you opt to borrow his shirts instead of wearing your usual ones, he takes pride in seeing the changes of your body becoming a bit pudgy in other places.

tonight, you're probably on your third round of eating. you'd told yourself yesterday that you'd hold back from eating too much ever since you noticed the slight fullness of your belly. you've noticed that your face has gotten a tad rounder, and you're aghast at just how much you've been consuming for only a week. you would've objected as caleb keeps asking if you want another round, but you didn't realise how much you've missed the taste of his cooking. the taste of home. and there's a part of you that's clutching onto the flavours as if it's the last meal you'll ever get from him. a part of you still finds it unbelievable that he's really here with you, right in the flesh, laughing and mussing on your hair. the familiar touch seems like a slap on your face that you find a prickling sensation at the back of your nose whenever the reality sets that... he's here. and he's home. you're home. you are both home.

noticing the faraway look on your eyes and the distracted movement of your utensils on your food, caleb pipes up. "you look like you're thinking too hard. had second thoughts about my cooking?"

you blink, snapping out of your glum musings and shaking your head. "no. just... thinking why you're feeding me so much. every day feels like a feast with how much you're cooking. i might have to buy new clothes, y'know."

caleb only smiles at your words, jabbing your forehead lightly with his finger. "well, it looks like you forgot to take care of yourself while i was gone. can't do anything without me, huh?"

you huff at the light teasing, taking a bite out of your food and looking down on your plate. your eyes might betray you. and you don't think you can handle the soft look he's giving you.

"but don't worry. your caleb is back, and i'm here to take care of my pip squeak. and what better way to start than to get some meat back on you." he grins.

you groan. "i'm going to eat less now, because at this point, you're the one who's taking me out of shape, and i'm blaming you if i fall behind with everyone when i suddenly become out of breath."

caleb only chuckles at you. "i think i'm just giving you more shape, if you ask me. and that wouldn't be so bad. that means i get to have more of you!" he squeezes your side affectionately, and you shy away from how ticklish you are, along with a small sense of insecurity bleeding through you. caleb doesn't miss your small scrunch of discomfort.

"you know i like you no matter what shape or form, right?" he pulls his chair closer to yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "and... there is a law about that, y'know?"

your brow furrows in confusion. "there is?"

he nods, a cheeky smile quirking on his lips. "yeah. "the greater the mass, the greater the force of attraction". so in other words, the more i plump you up, my attraction to you will keep increasing."

your mouth hangs at his words, and you playfully jab his side. "gē! you..."

he merely laughs, pinching on your cheek for extra measure. his glee is infectious that you can't help but break into a smile as well.

ah, caleb thinks, there's my girl.

can't get over that caleb is just basically packed into the law of gravitation. smartass would probably use that line to his advantage.

[holyblonded]

media day shenanigans | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: you are notorious for your interesting takes on media day but alexia just wants one good picture to hang up

warnings: none

notes: new series yall 💪🏾

You bounced through the halls of the training center, Alexia close behind you attempting to rub her headache away. Carla, the social media manager, was waiting at the end of the hall with the rest of the crew filming players on their walk to the locker room.

"Bon dia!" You greeted. "Media day!"

Media day was your favorite day of the season. You had a reputation to upkeep with your media day photos. Each one planned with care, your first year you dressed as a wizard from Slytherin, you second year you dressed as an emo person, and this year was going to be your best on yet.

The only downside of this media day, Alexia was your partner- per the captain's request. Alexia just wanted one good media day photo of you to hang up on the mantle at her Mari's house to go up with her and Alba's pictures, and today was the day.

Your antics began almost immediately after Carla handed her a camera.

"Here," Carla said, thrusting the camera into your hands. "Media team all agreed that we need behind-the-scenes content, and you're the only one who somehow makes chaos look marketable."

"You mean iconic," You corrected, grinning. "You've chosen well, Carla. I won't- nay can't let you down."

Alexia groaned behind you. "Great. As if she needed more encouragement."

You spun, pointing the camera at Alexia. "Say hi to your adoring fans, Ale!"

Alexia waved half-heartedly, her expression deadpan. "Hi. Help me."

You turned the camera on herself as she walked into the interview room, where Ale was already seated, looking poised and professional.

"Welcome to the Estrella Show!" You announced dramatically. "Today's guest is Ale—footballer, fashion icon-ish, and... part-time owl?"

Alexia raised an eyebrow, amused. "Excuse me?"

"Why is your face fixed like that? Like you're about to chirp 'who.'" You cackled and pointed to the reporter, who was trying not to laugh.

The reporter composed herself and smiled warmly. "Alright, ladies, let's dive in. Alexia, what's do you expect of the team this year?"

"The same thing every year. Trying our best, giving 110% every time and constantly improving," Alexia responded.

"Y/n?"

"Me? Oh, easy—vibes. I expect this team to have immaculate vibes. We win? Vibes. We lose? Vibes, but sadder. As long as we're all vibing together, it's a success," You nod, approving of your explanation.

Alexia facepalmed. "Why do I even try?"

"Because you love me," You grinned, suddenly going limp and leaning on Alexia.

The reporter laughed. "Alexia, what's it like partnering with Y/n for Media Day?"

Alexia sighed but couldn't help a small smile. "Exhausting. But... entertaining, I guess. She keeps things interesting."

You gasped in mock offense. "Only 'interesting'? Ale, venga, I'm phenomenal."

The interview proceeded somewhat smoothly—Ale stayed composed despite you trying to "spice things up" by asking Ale to rank her top five weirdest pre-game rituals. Midway through, you panned the camera toward Alexia, who was sitting nearby, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"She's pretending to be annoyed," You whispered to the camera. "But she loves me. Deep down. Very deep down."

The cafeteria was buzzing as the team settled in for a break. You, ever the opportunist, set your camera down on the table at just the right angle. Mapi sat across from Lucy, deeply engaged in a conversation with Ingrid.

You filmed the camera panning over plates of food. "We have here a wild Mapi and if you look closely you can see her famous pasta—delicious, tantalizing, guarded like the crown jewels. But today... today it's mine."

In the background, Alexia's voice could be heard faintly. "Do not start something."

Your eyes gleamed mischievously as you reached out, snagging a bite from Mapi's plate. Nobody noticed—at first. Then another huge bite. And another.

By the time you went for a fourth, Ingrid burst out laughing. "Mapi, are you really not seeing this?"

"What?" Mapi frowned, looking confused as the table burst into laughter as you filmed yourself dramatically chewing.

You feigning innocence. "What's so funny?"

Mapi's eyes narrowed, finally realizing her plate was half-empty. "Estrellita!"

In an instant, you was on your feet, camera in hand as Mapi bolted after you. The chase wound around the cafeteria, chairs and tables screeching as the team laughed and cheered.

You darted around the room, camera in hand, screaming, "THE CROWN JEWELS ARE MINE!"

Later in the afternoon, you and Alexia sat under bright studio lights for their second interview of the day. A staff member handed them a stack of photos, each one zoomed in on a teammate's body part—eyes, hands, or tattoos.

You rubbed your hands together. "Oh, I love this."

The first photo appeared on the monitor: a close-up of a tattooed arm.

Alexia leaned forward. "That's easy. Mapi."

"Correct!" the staffer said.

You groaned. "Ugh, you're no fun, Ale. Let me have a go."

The next image was a zoomed-in ear with a small earring. You squinted dramatically. "Hmm... Ingrid?"

"Wrong," Alexia said smugly. "It's Pina."

"Dang it!" You threw your head back dramatically while Alexia shook her head with a grin.

The next image popped up on the screen—a close-up of someone's knee.

"That's Caro!" You shouted immediately.

Alexia squinted. "That's not Caro. It's... Frido?"

"Wrong," said the host. "It's Ingrid."

"SEE!" You said triumphantly. "You doubt me, but you're wrong."

"So are you," Alexia rolled her eyes as her comment was ignored by the excited teen.

The next image was a zoomed-in elbow.

"Definitely Salma," Alexia said confidently.

"Nope, that's me!" You said, holding up your arm dramatically. "See? I'm an icon."

Alexia muttered something under her breath about needing a transfer to a quieter team.

By the end of the game, Alexia had a comfortable lead, but you declared yourself the "people's champion" anyway.

Finally, it was time for the photos. You stood beside Alexia, camera in hand, narrating her every move.

"And now, dear viewers, the moment you've all been waiting for. The photoshoot!"

When it came time for the pictures, you bided your time, waiting for Alexia to get distracted. Sure enough, while Alexia was chatting with the photographer about lighting, you made your move.

You grabbed a wig that matched Alexia's hair almost perfectly and threw it on, smoothing it into place. Grabbing a jersey with Alexia's number, you turned to the camera Carla had left nearby.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you said in a low voice, imitating Alexia's serious tone, "I am now the captain of this team." You strutted onto the set, striking Alexia's signature intense pose. You'd even managed to replicate Alexia's serious expression.

The real Alexia turned around mid-conversation and froze. "Estrelleta..."

"What are you doing? What are you wearing?"

"I'm you," You declared, striking a pose. "This is my homage to our captain."

The photographers and crew burst into laughter, snapping photos as you leaned dramatically against Alexia, mimicking her every move. You gave your best captainly glare. "Focus, team. This is serious business."

Alexia sighed deeply but couldn't fight the grin tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

"And you're my partner today," You said, taking off the wig, switching her jersey, and tossing it to Alexia. "Now come on, Capitana. Let's make this photo mantel-worthy for Eli."

[imloyaltoscoups]

just platonic? | yoon jeonghan

Once again, you're at Jeonghan's apartment, casually scrolling through Netflix on the TV, searching for a good show to watch, when you hear him sigh from the kitchen. It’s one of those exaggerated sighs that usually means he’s trying to get your attention without actually asking for it.

“Something wrong?” you call out, not looking up.

“I don’t know. Is there?” Jeonghan replies, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You finally glance up, seeing him leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a mug of coffee. His hair is slightly messy, falling into his eyes, and he’s wearing that oversized shirt he always claims is ‘comfy,’ even though you know he just likes how it makes him look.

“What are you on about now?” you ask, putting the remote down.

Jeonghan shrugs, taking a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing much. Just wondering why someone would spend so much time on the screen when there’s such captivating company right here.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh please, you just want attention. You’re like a cat, always craving someone to pet your ego.”

“And yet,” he says, his voice lowering a fraction, “you’re the one who always ends up giving me exactly what I want.”

You feel your face warm slightly at the suggestive undertone in his voice, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “Only because you’re so high maintenance. Someone’s got to keep you in check.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widens. He puts down his mug and walks over to the couch, sitting down a bit too close for comfort. “You sure that’s all it is? Because it kind of feels like you enjoy taking care of me.”

You huff, trying to ignore the way his leg is brushing against yours. “Someone has to. God knows you’d starve if I didn’t make you dinner every now and then.”

“True,” he says, his voice softening just a bit. “But I don’t just mean the food. You take care of me in other ways, too.”

The sudden sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you glance at him, meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes, something deep and familiar, and you know he’s not just talking about the meals you cook or the times you make sure he’s getting enough rest.

You quickly look away, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not getting too full of yourself.”

He chuckles, his shoulder bumping against yours. “Too late for that, don’t you think? You made me this way.”

“Yeah, right,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

There’s a brief pause, and then he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You know, if you wanted to keep me in check more often, you could always move in. Think about it—all the time in the world to tell me off for being too charming.”

You laugh, pushing him away lightly. “And spend even more time listening to you whine? Thanks but no thanks.”

Jeonghan grins, undeterred. “I’m just saying, you might enjoy it. We’d be good together, you know? Like an old married couple—arguing one minute, making up the next.”

There’s that undertone again, the one that’s somewhere between a tease and a promise. You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time, but there’s no denying the butterflies you feel.

“Keep dreaming, Hannie,” you say, though there’s no real bite in your words.

He just smiles, leaning back on the couch and stretching out like a contented cat. “Don’t worry, I plan to.”

You lean back, crossing your arms as you try to ignore the heat rising in your face. Jeonghan, as usual this fcker, seems to have an uncanny ability to make you flustered, even when you know he’s just messing with you.

He glances at you sideways, his lips quirking into that sly smile that tells you he’s thinking something far more wicked than what he’s letting on. “You know, for someone who’s always pretending like we’re ‘just friends,’ you really do let me get a little too close sometimes.” His eyes flicker down to where your leg brushes against his, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

You scoff, trying to keep your composure. “We are just friends. Stop trying to make it into something else.”

He leans back, his body close enough that the air between you seems charged. “Sure we are,” he says in that tone, the one that’s laced with something unspoken. He reaches over, his hand resting casually on your thigh. “Just friends who can’t keep their hands off each other, huh?”

You want to push his hand away, but instead, you let it stay there for a second longer than you should. “It’s not like that,” you murmur, though the lack of conviction in your voice betrays you.

“Oh, really?” he says, voice dropping lower, the teasing replaced with something more insistent. “Then why does your heart beat faster every time I touch you?” His hand moves just a little higher, the fingers pressing lightly against the edge of your shorts. “You can’t deny it—we’ve crossed a line. You’re not just my friend, and you know it.”

You give him a side-eye, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

He shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours now, and his hand that is resting on your thigh move casually to rests on the back of the couch, inches from your shoulder. His voice drops lower, almost a whisper, but still with that undeniable edge of cocky arrogance. “I mean, we both know how good we are at this whole... arrangement. Can’t really call it ‘just friends’ when we’re in bed, can we?”

You stiffen slightly, but you refuse to let him get under your skin. “You’re ridiculous. Stop acting like you’ve got me all figured out.”

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches you try to keep your composure. “It’s cute, you know,” he says, almost mockingly, “watching you pretend like this is all so innocent. But we both know better, don’t we?”

You snort, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You’re really full of yourself today, huh?”

“Am I?” His smirk is sharp, teasing. “Or are you just mad you can’t deny it? Again we’ve already the crossed line, and we both know it. We’ve had our fun. But let’s be real here—you like it. I like it. And it works. So why not just embrace it?”

The way his words hang in the air makes it hard to focus on anything else. You try to ignore the effect it’s having on you—the little shiver creeping up your spine. You know you should pull away, but somehow, you don’t. Instead, you find yourself leaning to him just a little closer, almost subconsciously, as if your body is betraying your mind.

Jeonghan notices this, his smirk deepening. “See? You’re not fooling anyone. So why don’t we make it easier on ourselves? Why don’t you just move in with me? We already spend so much time together, and you’re always here anyway.” His eyes glint with mischief. “It’ll be so much more convenient, don’t you think?”

You let out a deep sigh before looking at him, “I told you before,” you say, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’m not moving in with you. You’re too much to handle.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, leaning closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. “Am I? Because I think you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with all the ‘handling’ I’ve been doing.”

The way he says it makes you flush, but you’re not about to admit it. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Hannie. I’m not that easy.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that’s laced with both humor and something darker, more dangerous. “Oh, I know you’re not,” he says quietly. “But you still let me in. And that’s all I really need to know.” He then leans in closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he speaks again, his voice lower, more intimate. “And honestly, I think we’d be even better if we were together more... You know, living together. Think of all the time we’d have to... reconnect. You wouldn’t have to run home after a long night. We could take things slower... or not.”

The way his breath brushes your ear makes you shiver, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck as he continues, his words slipping into that seductive tone he always seems to master so effortlessly. His lips are dangerously close now, his presence overwhelming, and despite yourself, you’re starting to feel the pull of what he’s suggesting.

“You really know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” you manage to say, though your voice falters slightly, betraying the effect he’s having on you.

Jeonghan chuckles softly, his lips brush against your ear, just a feather-light touch, but it makes your pulse quicken. “I know you like this. Don’t pretend you don’t.”, he whispers.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he continues, his lips now tracing the curve of your ear. You try to keep your cool, but your heart is racing in your chest, and your mind is clouded by the tension between you two. His proximity is too much, and you feel your resolve will start to crack anytime.

“You’re so damn persistent,” you mutter, trying to keep your composure. “Always getting what you want.”

“You’re not so hard to figure out, you know,” Jeonghan replies with a smirk that’s all too knowing. He moves his lips down to your jaw, kissing just below your ear before pulling back slightly. “I already know how to make you give in. But imagine if I had more time with you... more time to make you forget everything but me.”

His lips are soft as they peck your cheek, just a brief, innocent touch, but it sends a jolt of warmth through your body. He doesn’t give you time to respond, immediately tilting your chin gently to face him. You don’t pull away, but your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock onto yours, deep and intense.

“I don’t just want you to be here for a night, or a weekend, or when it’s convenient. I want all of you,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks. “I want you here, with me, all the time. Think about it—having everything we want, whenever we want. No more distance, no more playing games.”

It’s not a suggestion anymore. It’s more like an invitation, wrapped in all the quiet promises that make your heart race and your mind spin. You try to hold onto the threads of control, but his gaze is too damn intense, too disarming. Your mind flashes with the idea of being with him all the time—living together, waking up to him every day, hearing his voice close by at all hours. And just the thought has your stomach flipping.

He tilts his head slightly, still close enough for his lips to brush against your skin every time he speaks. “You already leave things at my place. You think I don’t notice? You’re halfway there already. We’re already halfway there.”

You bite your lip, caught somewhere between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. He’s always been like this—persistent, unrelenting, and yet somehow irresistible. It’s dangerous. It’s thrilling. And the worst part is, you’re starting to want it, too.

“You’re really a pain in the ass,” you say, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced with something softer, something that gives away just how much he’s getting to you.

“I’m only persistent because I know exactly what I want,” he says with a grin, brushing your hair behind your ear as his fingers graze your skin. His gaze flicks to your lips, and the tension between you both heightens in a heartbeat.

You can barely find your voice, the words coming out quieter than you intend. “And you always get what you want, right?”

Jeonghan’s grin deepens, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks, his voice low and smooth. “Exactly. So what’s stopping you?”

p.s: I leave this to your imagination

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

[luminni]

Imagine Konig gets put on medical leave for some injury, it's minor but could get worse if not allowed to rest, so they put him on leave and he's just...not happy about it. He has nothing to do and is bored in his little flat, he thinks he might go crazy if he can't do something. So he starts working at a little corner store/cafe just to pass the time. Not his first choice but it's just a block away and he can make a little extra cash from it. Plus it's something he can do, a set of instructions and a way to complete them? That's kind of his whole thing. He doesn't take orders, god no, he's much too socially awkward for that. Instead he's behind the counter, making drinks and heating up pre-packaged croissant sandwiches. The only talking he ever has to do is barking out someone's name or order number to let them know it's ready, always with a sharp, gruff tone that makes him sound constantly pissed off when that's not the case. He's just a nervous man with a deep voice is all, his co-workers don't talk to him because they all think he hates them (which couldn't be further from the truth) and they don't think they've heard him say more than 2 words at a time. It doesn't really bother Konig though, he's just doing this to pass the time, keep his mind busy.

That is until you wonder into the shop one busy Monday morning. You wouldn't usually stop on your way to work but you were in such a rush this morning you forgot to eat breakfast. You duck into the bustling cafe and wait in line, not noticing the giant of a man behind the counter. He doesn't notice you either, he's too busy completing orders, until you step up to the till. His ears immediately perk up when he hears you order, your voice is so soft and sweet, politely making your order. Gently asking for one of the water bottles from the fridge, patient and kind despite him being sure you were probably in the same kind of rush as everyone else. He felt drawn to the gentle lull and cadence of the way you talked, your sweet "have a nice day!" Ringing in his head for a moment as he imagined you had said it directly to him. He stole a glance in your direction as you walked over to the pick up counter and you were as pretty as you sounded. Bundled up against the cold in a puffy jacket and over sized scarf that you buried your cold nose into. He was smitten, but more than that he was determined. Determined to be the one who would make your order and call it out. He rushed through his other orders and snagged yours just as one of his coworkers was reaching for it, turning away from them wordlessly. It had never been this hard for him to make a simple sandwich, now it felt like his large, clumsy fingers went in the opposite direction of where he wanted them. But he fumbled through it all the same, and when I came time to announce your order he couldn't bring himself to bark it out like he did the others. Your voice had been so sweet and he didn't want to startle you or scare you off. So with all the gentleness a 6'10" wall of muscle can manage, he called out your order, though it came out more a a whisper than anything. Some of his colleagues looked at him, they had never heard him use a tone of voice other than "Mildly annoyed". But he didn't care, he was focused solely on you and the way your eyes lit up at the sound, shuffling over to grab your food from him. You took the box and made eye contact with him, giving him a sweet "thank you very much" which he turned away from, unable to stand his nervousness when he was making eye contact. But uttering a still soft "...you're welcome" all the same. He just hopes you come back tomorrow or sometime before he's deployed again.

[oracle-of-dream]

Just Listen

Minors DNI & Not Proofread

Summary: Sunghoon's been having a tough time at work. And now with you... If only he could get you to listen to him.

Warnings: Male Reader, Dom! Sunghoon, Creampie, No-prep, Obedience Kink

Sunghoon sighed as he looked at the sign on the elevator.

Out of Order in old red letters. He turned to start walking up the stairs. It was a long day at the law firm–especially training some new prosecutors. They were just so rebellious... If they'd listened to Sunghoon's instructions the first time, life wouldn't be nearly as difficult.

Finally, he reached the top of the stairs. He could see the door to his apartment slightly ajar down the hall. "I swear to god... I ask for the simplest things," he groaned as he pulled it open. As he stepped inside, trying but failing to suppress an icy demeanor. He saw you sprawled on the couch.

His tone was flat, and his eyebrows laid straight. "Y/n, you left the door unlocked and open. Again." Sunghoon pulled the door behind him, removed his suit jacket, and placed it neatly in the closet.

"Oh, well, I knew you'd be home soon..." You said, mumbling as you tried not to hold his glare.

"Did you?" His eyes drifted over your form, taking in the way your shirt rode up slightly, exposing a strip of smooth skin. "And me being near home convinced you to leave the door open, inviting strangers in?"

"I didn't invite anyone–"

"You know what I mean."

You looked over to the kitchen. "I-I just finished making dinner."

Sunghoon's head didn't turn away, but his eyes glanced over to the dish on the stove. "Oh, you cooked... So did you smoke up the place and need to air it out?"

"N-No!"

Sunghoon looked around, noticing the smoke alarm had its battery removed. "Next time, just open a fucking window."

You stood with a huff. "Hey, no cursing. I just wanted to welcome you home with something nice after a long day..." You walked to him, scooping his hand and playing with his fingers. "I thought we could relax together tonight."

Sunghoon stared at your hand as it laced with his. "So did you throw away your mess in the house or outside?"

"Outside."

"And the dish is from the restaurant down the street?"

"Actually it's two streets over."

Sunghoon couldn't help but crack a smile. "Well, fine. I'll let you off this time since you got us a meal... That I paid for." He knew he'd get a charge for tonight's dinner on this month's statement, but he left a second card to his account with you so he could spoil you even when he wasn't present. "Do you need help cleaning?"

You shook your head. "Don't worry about it! I'll take care of it, just relax."

Sunghoon nodded. "I'll let you handle it then. Let's watch a movie while we eat. I know there's a new sci-fi one you mentioned."

"I don't know... Last time we watched a movie I wanted, you couldn't even wait 5 minutes."

"I accidentally sat on the remote a few times."

"And then proceeded to make out with me?"

Your boyfriend's eyebrows wiggled slightly. "It's just to give you those special attention-grabbing moments. But don't worry. tonight, I promise–no interruptions, no distractions. Just us, the movie, and food." He flashed a smirk. "Unless, of course, you get a little bored during the movie."

"I won't get bored. I wanna watch it, so keep your hands to yourself."

"We can't cuddle?" Sunghoon's eyes peeked past his glasses, with a slight beg.

You ignored his request, sitting on the couch. He joined you, adjusting some pillows and piling some food onto a plate.

The movie started, and Sunghoon behaved as promised. You were a little sad he wasn't getting a little touchy... You leaned against him, and he shifted a bit.

"Come on," He patted his chest. "Lay here, I'll hold you. Just holding." You laid on his chest, his warmth pressing against yours. Your back against his chest as his hands wrapped around your waist in a gentle embrace. Sunghoon started watching you more than the movie. He loved your face when you focused. It was so fucking cute...

The movie reached the end. Sunghoon waited as he could see your brain digesting it.

"I can't believe she lived at the end... I thought she'd die."

Sunghoon nodded, encouraging you to share your theories. As you ran through the whole film, one part of your rant caught Sunghoon's attention.

"...And the male lead? The romantic interest, he was so handsome! How could they kill him? I was hoping he'd end up surviving with the woman."

Your boyfriend frowned at you calling another man handsome.

"B-But not as handsome as you!"

You tried to recover, but it was already done. Sunghoon always got dramatic when you complimented other men.

"Oh, I didn't realize that kind of guy was your type."

"Hoon, don't start–"

"Don't start? I'm not starting anything. I just thought I should try and look up that guy's phone number so I can connect you guys."

You squirmed out of his arms. "You're being so..."

"So, what?" Your boyfriend raised his eyebrows, taunting you.

Smirking, you stopped yourself from speaking. You stood and drifted away from the couch, making Sunghoon follow you.

"So, what!?" Sunghoon's voice raised a bit, his ears got warm, and could feel his heartbeat spike.

Your smirk faded and your head cocked to the side. "Sunghoon... Why are you so angry suddenly?"

He folded his arms. "I'm not angry."

"You're shouting."

"I'm just speaking loudly."

"That's shouting!"

"Well, don't talk about other guys in front of me!"

You blinked absent-mindedly. "It's a movie! He's an actor, I was just making a fucking comment."

Sunghoon surged toward you, with his index finger out. "Do not curse at me."

"I wasn't cursing AT you."

"Don't get technical with me either, y/n!" Sunghoon's hand rushed through his hair, pushing it back. "Why can't you just listen to me?"

"How am I not listening?"

Your partner held you by your shoulders. You felt small under his grasp as he loomed over you. He took a breath. "I–just mean... I want to be the only guy you think is handsome. Even if you have to let me be delusional a bit." He held you to his chest. "I can't stand the thought of you liking someone more than me."

"I never said I liked him more than you..."

"I know... I just get a bit... jealous."

You press yourself against his chest, listening to his racing heart. "You know you're the only one for me, Hoonie."

Sunghoon lifted your chin. "Just listen to me on this, okay?"

You nodded, earning a smile from him as he leaned in to pair your lips with his. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him deeper. Sunghoon's hands found your waist, and he pulled you together as the kiss got more intense. You pulled away for a breath. "I promise I'll listen a bit more... I'll follow whatever directions you give me."

You giggled as you let your hand slide down his body. When you find what you were looking for, you give it a soft squeeze. Sunghoon groaned in response, and his head threw back as he bucked his hips.

"Mmm, fuck yes... just like that," He groans again, his voice scratchy and desperate. "I need your hands around it."

You could feel his cock getting harder. Sunghoon's cock was big, which shocked you when you saw it the first time. Your favorite thing to do was to feel it get hard. Starting small and growing to almost ten inches... Just thinking about it would make your eyes roll.

Sunghoon guided your hand to palm the zipper, letting you feel the outline of it.

His head fell down to your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "Y/n, I need it."

The way Sunghoon's voice peaked when he begged for your touch. It made a rush run up your spine. He made quick work of his clothes, shrugging out of his shirt and shoving his pants down enough to free his aching erection.

"Remember, our walls aren't too thick. Don't wake the neighbors."

Sunghoon didn't bother trying to take you to the bedroom. He dragged you to the couch and threw you on your back.

"Fuck, stay here," Sunghoon commanded as he rushed off, leaving you alone. "Get those pants off!" He shouts from the bedroom. You giggled as you started sliding your pants off. It wasn't often that Sunghoon was more dominant with you, he was usually more patient.

You could hear the sound of Sunghoon returning to the room, the wet sound of slicking himself up getting louder as he approached. He entered into the room, some lube dripping off his dick.

"Now, let's get you ready." Sunghoon lifted your legs onto his shoulders as he spread your cheeks gently. A finger teased your hole, pressing slightly. "Beg, baby. Let me hear you."

You held in a groan as he smiled at you. "Sunghoon, please. I need it, so bad. Just skip the fingers..."

"Skip the fingers? Are you sure?" Sunghoon's voice teased.

You nodded furiously. "Please, just the tip. Anything!"

"Jeez, you are cock hungry." He listened to the strangled gasp that slipped from your lips as the head of his cock breached your tight entrance. His hands held your hips, pressing into you. You could tell it was going to bruise, and Sunghoon was resisting the urge to split you open and thrust in. "F-Fuck, y/n!" He hissed, voice strained with effort. "You're tighter than I thought."

You struggled to reply as your eyes bulged from the rush. Your eyes bulged and rolled back as your mouth hung open. "If you want to stop, then pull out–"

Your sentence was cut off as Sunghoon pushed deeper. "Don't test me. I'm trying to be nice."

Sunghoon waited to feel you relax before moving in, inch by inch. He made it halfway before you flinched, making him stop.

"Sung, wait– It's too much. I can't..."

Sunghoon opened his eyes to look at you. Your back was arched and your body twitched, which only made you more sensitive. Your eyes were wet and looking into his.

"Can't?" He cocked his head to the side. "Too bad, you'll manage."

"I can't! It won't fit..."

"I'll make it fit." Sunghoon leaned over you, pressing your mouth to his collarbone. "Bite me if it's too tough." Even when he was being dominant, Sunghoon was taking care of you...

His eyes closed with focus. Took a deep breath. And slammed his hips into you as he hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wide around him, he releases a low groan as he leans over you. Your teeth sank into Sunghoon's collarbone.

He stroked your head. "That's it... Take it all. Such a good slut," he growled. "You feel incredible... tight, hot, and wet. I can feel you twitching around me, begging me to fuck you."

You moaned into his neck as Sunghon started a deep, steady rhythm. Slowly pulling out and snapping back into you. Before long, your boyfriend was losing himself in it as he drove his cock into you. The sound of the couch creaked louder with each powerful thrust, slightly pounding the wall.

"Shhh, you can do it," he pants against your ear, and his hot breath sends shivers down your spine. "I don't want to let anyone else hear you being needy for me."

Sunghoon angled his hips, and he found your spot. A scream ripped out of your chest as you detach from his collar.

"Oh, fuck! Sunghoon, I can't breathe! You're so big, so deep!"

Sunghoon hits your prostate exactly with strength.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You almost shout at him.

He smirked. "Untouched? You're so perfect. I'm close too, I swear, it'll be over soon."

Your body tensed and convulsed around him. Sunghoon felt your walls clamp down on his cock like a vice. The sensation was too insane to ignore. With a loud, guttural moan, he buried himself within you as he finished.

"Take it, every drop! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!" He grunted, hips jerking as he emptied himself within you. Thick, hot streams of cum filled you. Some even leaked out as Sunghoon pumped in you through his orgasm.

Sunghoon lets out a weak sigh as he collapses against you, his weight pressing you into the couch.

You twitched and shook as your boyfriend's weight pressed on you. "Holy fuck..."

"You took it so well, baby. I'm so proud." He kissed your nose. "Such a good boy. You took it so good." Sunghoon cooed praises as you drifted into unconsciousness.

When you woke up from your fucked-out nap, Sunghoon had put you in a warm bath. He called in from work to care for you. Servicing you as much as you want...

He kissed your neck as he washed you. "By the way... Today's Friday. The office is closed on the weekend. So we'll have plenty of time to test how obedient you are."

[juletheghoul]

regression

a/n: Okay, this one is going to be a little different, in this chapter we get some angst. I received a few amazing asks about Girlwife slipping back into calling Marcus Dominus, and how he would feel. There is obviously a playful way it could happen, or even in a sexual capacity, control and all that but some of the asks were of an angsty nature and this is where I delved. No sexy stuff in this chapter, dealing with Lavinia (nasty, jealous bitch) and postpartum. Hope you enjoy, always happy to receive messages and dms about Marcus and his Girlwife. 🖤 Not beta’d, barely proofread **ps, I googled what a Wetnurse was called in ancient Rome and got a few different answers - I went with nutrix.

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, shame, submissive reader (postpartum) angst, angry Marcus, remorseful Marcus, Lavinia being her usual cunt self 😒

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.3k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

His thumb presses against the furrow in your brow, a feather light stroke to wipe the frown off your face. You sigh, Diana calm and asleep against your breast, milk-drunk and perfect.

“It is only for the day, my love. The women, and the nutrix will take care of her.” His tone is soothing, patient despite the tremble in your frame. Tears well in your lashes, emotions that feel too big and too uncontrollable course through your being. 

“Apologies–” his thumbs wipe the tears away, shaking his head to dismiss your apology, “I just, I don’t know why my nerves are so shredded–” You take a deep breath, to sigh a deep sigh.

“There are no apologies needed, this is a big step. We have not been apart from her since she was born. It is perfectly normal for you to be fearful, but I swear to you she will be well-cared for.” His hand looks so massive on the crown of her head, a gentle sweep while the tears fall in a steady stream. “We make an appearance, show our faces, I find out the meaning of the invitation and then come straight back here.” 

Her little chest rises and falls in your arms, the full pout of her lips stained with milk, her fingers curled up under her chin, all of her cracks your heart in half. 

“Yes, you’re right.” With another deep sigh, you rise, handing her gently off to the older woman waiting quietly beside you. She smiles at the child in her arms, rocking softly to keep her asleep. Already you miss her, the little weight of her, the smell of her hair and it feels like a part of you is missing despite her being right before your eyes. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead before she’s taken away by what is for all intents and purposes, her mother for the day. 

His arms gather you up and for a moment the unexplainable despair swallows you like an ocean, a rogue wave crashing you into a wall. He says nothing, only holds you tightly within his comforting embrace. 

You’re quiet on the way to the gathering, quiet as you walk through the halls of the Senators home, looking but not really seeing–attention still wrapped up in Diana and the uncertainty of her well-being despite his assurances, and the deep-seeded knowledge that the women in your house would give their lives for her. It was hard to remember that just now, without the weight of her within your arms. 

Attendants greet you, offering wine to which you politely decline. They lead you to a great room, filled with people and food and part of you wishes to run out the door. 

“We will only be here until he has said his piece to me, once I know the purpose of this we will be gone. I will not keep you away from home longer than is necessary my love.” He says the words low into the skin of your temple, a soft kiss to seal it before he leads you towards the owner of the home. 

You watch as the older man greets Marcus, give him a tight smile when he presses a kiss to your cheek in greeting, and let him lead you to a place at his table. 

“You must tell me, to what do we owe the pleasure of your invitation?” Marcus drinks the wine offered with one hand, while holding yours in the other and you’re grateful for his pressing. 

“But you have only just arrived General Acacius, we will get into the matter once everyone has arrived. Fear not, eat, enjoy.” The older man, Senator Cassius, laughs and engages with other guests while others arrive. 

“Lady Acacius, I have not yet had the pleasure.” A woman sits down in the place next to you, smiling brightly, “I am Caecilia, the wife of Senator Cassius and the Lady of this house.” She presses kisses to your cheeks.

“The pleasure is all mine, thank you for receiving us.” You smile your best smile, hoping to the Gods that you look presentable, that you are not leaking milk. She waves away your thanks.

“I wanted to congratulate you on the birth of your child, we were very happy to hear the news, and of your union to General Acacius of course. You must be a special woman indeed to have ensnared him.” She smiles, looking to Marcus and it’s said with an air of playfulness, not malice. 

“She is indeed.” Marcus slips his arm around your shoulder and you feel the heat crawl across your face.

“I don’t know if ensnared is the word—” She laughs, and you know she’s teasing you, a friendly poke to lighten the mood. 

“Of course not my lady, you are a beautiful young woman and I have never seen him so happy, I was only teasing.” You like her instantly, she’s older than you but not by much and you continue to chat with her until the men rise. Your stomach drops but Marcus presses close. 

“I am only going to the study with him to finally know the truth of why we are here. Do not fret, I will return shortly.” He places a kiss to your neck. 

“Yes yes go off, you men tend to your business, leave us ladies to entertain ourselves.” Caecilia takes your hand in hers and squeezes it firmly, reassuring you and you nod to him. 

Chatting with her is oddly comforting, she’s sweet and honest and much more playful than you thought she’d be. Usually these gatherings are full of gossip and the cruel undercurrent of high society that sours the mood. This however feels light, other women join your conversation, they ask questions about Diana, they congratulate and relate and it is for the most part, enjoyable. Until a late guest enters the house. 

Lavinia enters with her new, young husband in tow. A sour faced man, high up in the senate and you feel the way Caecilia stiffens beside you. 

“Where is Senator Cassius?” He asks, without greeting. Your nerves fray still more when Lavinia catches your eye, a narrowing of her eyes lets you know that she is not happy at having been passed over. 

“I am here, and you are late, come, we have been waiting for you.” Senator Cassius is at the edge of the room, his tone clipped. 

Lavinia joins the group, sitting across from you and you cannot be sure if it is just your apprehension at seeing her, but the atmosphere turns icy. 

“I must congratulate you Lavinia, on your union.” Caecilia’s tone is full of cold courtesy, devoid of any of the warmth she spoke to you with. 

“Gratitude Caecilia.” She bows her head, smiling wide before turning her attention to you, her eyebrow raising in a manner you do not like. “I must congratulate you as well, Lady Acacius, on trapping the General, and with a baby no less. Must be strange for you to be amongst such elevated company, and not be required to pour.” Her smile is sharp, and some of the other women tut, displeased with her rudeness. Your lashes fill with unshed tears, the stress of leaving your daughter, the absence of Marcus, being away from your house and your comfort turn the barbs into something bigger, something devastating. 

“That is no way to speak to Lady Acacius, especially not in my house.” Caecilia shoots back, quick and you’re grateful for her, the shock of rudeness has left you speechless. 

“Oh come now, it’s obvious. Man like him marries a slave and parades her around–”

“I seem to recall you wanting to be paraded by him.” Caecilia cuts her off, “I seem to recall you being rejected, twice.” Lavinia’s eyes widen, some of the other ladies laugh. 

“I recall that as well, I heard there was a rumour of a tantrum you threw to your father because Acacius did not want you.” Another of the girls says, half laughing and Lavinia's face goes red. The men return, speaking loudly, oblivious to the turmoil within and seeing Marcus surrounded by all those powerful men, knowing he is important, knowing he is respected and far beyond what you deserve makes you break. A tear falls down your cheek, your heart races and you feel like a caged bird, surrounded by walls. 

“Do not listen to her my Lady, she is only envious of you.” Caecilia wipes your tear away but Marcus is there, having noticed the red in your eyes. He frowns, crouching down to look you in the eye but there are so many people, too many watching and a shame fills your being, that you have embarrassed him, caused a scene and made him possibly regret his choices, regret you.

“My love-” His voice is soft, but Lavinia chimes in, unfettered by her scolding. 

“Congratulations to you Marcus, wife, slave and nutrix all rolled into one.” She smiles, but his eyes turn black with rage. 

“Your anger at my spurning you gives you no right to speak this way, if you think you have embarrassed me, or my wife you are sorely mistaken. The only thing you have done is prove that I was right to deny you. You are not fit to be in the same room as her, let alone look down your nose at her. Come, my Lady, let us retire to our home, and our child.” 

“Will you let him speak to me–”

“Quiet, Lavinia. Seems the rumours I heard of your feelings for General Acacius are true. Come, we will discuss this later. Let us away.” Her husband does not wait for her, instead she is made to run after him, tail tucked between her legs but it does not calm you. The whole scene, the whole spectacle only fills you with doubt. Perhaps he would have been better off with someone high-born, not some slave within his house. A cruel little part of you whispers that you were what was available, he is only with you because you were there.

He says nothing the whole way home, the anger in him is so big, so heavy it threads through your ribs, it squeezes at your heart and all you want to do it make yourself small, hideaway in your old chambers and cry, hold your daughter tightly and forget ever having left her. 

When he guides you inside the house the tears are heavy and hot on your face, flowing freely and he stops you. 

“My–”

“Please forgive me Dominus, I did not mean to embarrass you–” A strangled noise comes out of him, something wounded as you fall to your knees before him. When you look up he too has tears on his face. 

“I shall redeem myself, I swear to you.” You cry, reverting back to that timid little thing you’d been long ago but he falls to his knees right in front of you, holding your face with both of his hands. 

“Stop this!” His voice cracks, and you cover your face with your hands, another misstep, another failure. 

“My love stop this, I beg of you, I am not your Dominus, I am your husband and I love you.” He pulls your hands away, his eyes red with hurt and you cannot help but sob. 

“But I am beneath–”

“You are no such thing! You are everything to me, if anyone is not worthy, if anyone is blessed it is me! You cannot let the jealous barbs of a woman spurned make you question my love for you, you cannot let her and her black heart question your place. You are the Lady of this house, you are the mother of my child and you are the single most important person in my whole world. Please, please do not call me Dominus, I am not that, not to you.” Diana cries, a wail that pierces through the bubble of the two of you clutching at each other on the floor just inside the doorway. 

“Dominus, Domina–is something the matter? Shall I fetch a medicus?” The older woman looks terrified as she tries to soothe the baby, but Marcus waves her concern away.

“We will be retiring to bed early, we require food and drink to be brought and then no interruptions for the rest of the night. I do not care if the Emperor himself knocks on the door, no one is to disturb us.” He stands, gently pulling you up with him. With a shuddering breath, you take Diana into your arms, and retreat within the safety of your chambers. 

He helps you undress, careful to not disturb the child in your arms, wiping away at the errant tears  as he goes along. Once he too is comfortable, you both slip into the bed, Diana asleep between you.

With quiet, with food and drink and the reassuring rhythm of her breathing a different form of shame settles over you. Shame that you regressed, that you thought he would think differently of you because of what Lavinia had said, he had more than proven himself and his feelings since freeing you. 

“Marcus,” You reach over, caressing at the grey scruff on his cheeks “Forgive me, I do not know what came over me.” He sighs, cupping your hand against his face. 

“No, it is I who beg for your forgiveness. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go, not when I could see how hard it was for you to leave her.” He lowers his hand, holding onto Diana’s little foot. “I should have gone on my own, or refused the invitation, I should not have put you in that situation. Your comfort, your happiness–and hers are the only things that matter to me. I must remember that when duty calls.” His hand moves from her foot, to your face, cupping your cheek and sweeping his thumb just under your eye. 

“Forgive me.” He leans over, careful not to jostle the baby and presses a kiss to your mouth. You nod, not trusting your voice. The rest of the night is spent in quiet comfort, basking in and trusting in the love you both have for one another, and the being you created.

--

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[rosaeh]

boyfriend!jason todd & work song by hozier

Boys workin' on empty Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat? I just think about my baby I'm so full of love, I could barely eat There's nothin' sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

late night patrol during the summer, and jason finds himself starving. but all he can think about is you. not about the food that's waiting for him in the fridge, but you. you, who -he hopes- is sleeping in bed and not waiting for him on the couch. not that he minds much. when you do wait for him -no matter how much he asked you not to- he would find you asleep on the couch, then would pick you up, and lay you down on the bed.

jason doesn't mind. he likes that you actually care enough to wait for him. likes that it gives him an excuse to hold you close.

but he doesn't actually like that you're depriving yourself of your sleep over him -you'll tell him it's really no big deal, but he wouldn't hear any of it. doesn't like that you end up sleeping on the couch, when the bed is much more comfortable, and won't cause you any pain.

anyway, he knows the minute he will be back to your shared apartment, the first thing he will do won't be eating, but crawling into bed with you. holding you close enough to fulfil his starvation.

and there is no other places he would rather be than in your arms.

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

and he knows that, if something bad were ever to happen to him, while away from you, he would crawl his way to you too. no matter what it takes him, he would come to you. even in death. because you are home to him.

after all, he already crawled his way out of a grave once, and he'll be willing to do it again for you. with you in mind ? jason knows he would do anything in his will power to come back to you. the mere thought of you is enough to motivate him to do everything. anything.

Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib And I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived But I swear, I thought I dreamed her She never asked me once about the wrong I did

[...]

My babe would never fret none About what my hands and my body done If the Lord don't forgive me I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me When I was kissin' on my baby And she put her love down, soft and sweet In the low lamplight, I was free Heaven and hell were words to me

because jason does come home to you. every night. whatever happens, no matter the state he is in.

and he is much more careful about that too, now. about the state he ends up in after going out as red hood.

but he also knows that no matter the state you do found him in, you'll welcome him with open arms. willing to take care of him. keen, even, to make him feel at peace, at home. no matter how much blood tainted his hands, you would wipe it off every time.

you would calmly sit him down in the bathroom, and start tending to his wounds. standing between his legs, you would found yourself -more often than not- leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, your hands pushing his hair back gently, your fingers tangling in his white strand.

and under your soft hands, your gentle touches, jason would feel like heaven was in your arms, because it is.

and it doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of him, as long as he has you. this heaven. his heaven. and in counterpart, for this peace you're providing him of, this love he feels radiating from you, he will always come home to you, and do anything for you to not regret it. to not regret betting on him, placing your trust into him like that.

jason is willing to defy death in your name.