#can he grow his hair out next comeback

[unluckedtj]

anyone fw dazed korea changbin…. anyone….

[muniimyg]

♡ 01: maybe it's all in my head

series m.list // taglist

note: hihiii ,, this jk has been rotting my mind for a while now ... time to ruin urs !!! enj the tension ,, (i miss being toxic) lmk what u guys think of their dynamic tho <3 excited to share their little story with u ,, mwaaaa

warnings: oc and jk are mean in this fic !!! pls don't comment being whiney abt it :') !!! oc overhears jk fucking someone ,, jealousy ,, banter

//

“oh. it’s you.”

leaning against the doorframe, jungkook looks at you half disgusted and half disappointed. his arms are crossed with one eyebrow lifted. he blocks your entrance.

“now, now,” you reach over and ruffle his hair. he shifts, dodging your touch. “don’t be so excited. i know your boring life just waits for my presence—oh. i get it. were you expecting someone? usually you’re thrilled to see me.”

jungkook’s expression doesn’t shift, though there’s a faint glint in his eyes. 

“thrilled is reaching, don’t you think?”

“is it?”

“yeah.”

you roll your eyes, brushing past him with a teasing smile. 

“right, so… which are you today? mr. save the dolphins or professor chem?”

jungkook scoffs at you.

“at least my marine conservation interest and organic chem major help the world. what’s your major again? yap-conomics or bitch-ology?”

“help the world?” you almost burst into laughter. “god, you are such a nerd.”

“nerd? i don’t know about you, but some of us care about—”

“yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “are you waiting for a nobel peace prize or something? holy shit, jungkook. learn to relax a little. you’re so serious. it’s cute, really… but only when you aren’t so anal about it.”

cute?

jungkook feels his chest tighten.

before he can make a comeback, taehyung calls you to the living room.

“___? is that you? stop trying to edge jungkook! get in here! i need your data for our paper!” 

you stick your tongue out at jungkook before turning away and rushing to the living room. your lips curl into a smug grin as you saunter off, leaving jungkook muttering something under his breath. you catch him rolling his eyes just before you disappear around the corner, a small flicker of triumph igniting in your chest.

the living room is warm, filled with the faint hum of taehyung’s lo-fi playlist and the smell of old books—his aesthetic, no doubt. taehyung is sprawled on the couch, laptop open, an arm draped lazily over the cushions. his wide grin grows wider when he sees you. 

“i’m here!”

“finally! come on, genius. enlighten me,” he says, patting the seat next to him.

you plop down beside him, legs folded under you, your laptop balanced precariously on your knees. “genius? are you sucking up to me because you didn’t do your part of the project yet?”

“yup,” he says, shrugging, his head tilted lazily to the side. “if you don’t send me that data tonight, though, i might call you something less flattering.”

you laugh, the sound soft and light, and lean into the cushions, already pulling up the necessary files. 

“your boyfriend’s in a mood.”

“he always is when you’re around,” taehyung teases. “he only answered the door cos he thought it was his student. your face must’ve pissed him off.”

chuckling at his response, you ask another question. 

“where are the guys?”

“they’ll be home soon,” taehyung answers. “said they wanna eat out tonight after jungkook’s tutoring session. you coming with?”

“sure,” you agree. 

then, the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth while taehyung clicks through your notes, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or two that makes you nudge him with your elbow.

a few minutes later, you hear an unfamiliar laugh and footsteps approaching.

jungkook strides in, casual and confident as always, but this time a girl is trailing after him. 

she’s pretty. 

the two exchange a few murmured words before jungkook’s eyes flicker briefly in your direction. he raises a hand in a lazy acknowledgment, the girl following suit, and say hi. taehyung nods at them and then they’re gone—slipping upstairs in the blink of an eye. 

the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut echoes faintly.

and then, it rings in your ear. 

you blink, your fingers frozen mid-typing on the keyboard. something gnaws at your chest, sharp and unfamiliar, leaving a bitter taste at the back of your throat. taehyung, oblivious, scrolls through your notes, muttering about formatting errors.

but you… you’re somewhere else entirely. 

what was that?

no name?

no introduction?

did she think you were taehyung's girlfriend or something? that jungkook was all for her?

oh god.

there's a weird twist in your stomach. it feels like a prickle of irritation spreading across your skin like an itch you can’t scratch… you shake your head, trying to brush it off, but the image of jungkook—smirking as usual, leaning casually against the banister, that girl so effortlessly fitting into the space beside him—lingers, stubborn and unshakable…

what the fuck.

it’s not like you and jungkook are close. 

you’re frenemies, at best. 

unsure of when it started exactly—but it’s been happening long enough for it to be routine and well-known in the friendgroup. you two are the kind of people who throw jabs at each other during game nights and compete to see who can make the snarkiest comment without crossing the line. you’re always caught in this stupid cycle of one-upping each other, all for the entertainment of the group. sometimes, more for yourself. life gets boring pretty quickly, and jungkook is your fastest source of entertainment. 

yet, why does it feel like you’ve just lost some unspoken game?

your chest tightens, and you lower your gaze to your laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. you bite the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you’ve never been able to kick… this icky feeling begins to take over and your mind races with reasons as to why.

maybe it’s because jungkook’s always been so good at getting under your skin. 

maybe it’s because, for all his teasing and relentless bickering, there’s this… comfort in knowing that he’s always there, right across the table, firing back at you like he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

and maybe that’s the problem.

because now, with someone else upstairs, laughing at something he probably said, you’re starting to realize that you might actually care more than you thought.

maybe you care because you’re not the one in his room he’s trying to make laugh.

after a few hours pass, everyone’s stomach beings to grumble. 

for the past 20 minutes, the guys have been begging you to go up and call jungkook down. he hasn’t been answering their texts and all argue that if they go up and knock; he’ll just ignore them. 

… but if you do it…

he’ll answer.

even if it’s just to insult you. 

you glance up at the clock, already mentally calculating the time. you're not really in the mood for another round of back-and-forth with him, but you know they'll just keep pushing you.

"please, please, please, ___!” taehyung cries, pouting. “i really need pad thai. like… so bad. like, i might die. please go get jungkook.”

you hesitate, your eyes flicking to the stairs. 

jungkook hasn’t come out at all. you don’t want to disturb anything and he’s a total grumpy-head when his study time is disrupted… what more if it’s a tutoring lesson? the last time you went up there, it ended with you calling him a dumbass and him tossing a pillow at you.

“i think you guys can go get him this time," you say, turning your attention back to your phone, pretending to scroll through a message.

"oh come on," jimin presses. "you know, at the end of the day… he only really listens to you." his voice drips with exaggeration, but it only makes you roll your eyes.

"yeah, that’s true…" hobi adds with a playful smirk, leaning back into the couch. "you’re like his… little bitch or something."

you shoot them both a look. “you think i’m his bitch?"

“either that or he’s your little bitch.”

you scoff at him. “please do not disgrace bitches by associating them with him.”

“fine, fine,” jin says with a dramatic sigh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “we won’t force you to go up… we’ll bribe you!”

your interest piques as you glance up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“bribe me? how much cash do you have today?”

yoongi and nam joon share a look. then, nam joon leans forward, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

“milk tea," he offers, his voice low and enticing, like he knows exactly what will catch your attention. "… any boba store you want. any time… for a week, ___.”

you try to fight the grin that starts tugging at your lips. 

fuck it. 

you nod begrudgingly, slipping your phone into your pocket. 

“deal.”

taehyung bursts out laughing. “deal."

with a resigned sigh, you head for the stairs. 

as you climb up, you prepare yourself. 

you prepare yourself for his death glare and the innocent girl in the background. you prepare yourself for his snarky comments and his sweet tone of voice the minute he turns around to talk to her. you prepare yourself to feel sick to your stomach again. 

as you stand in front of his bedroom door and raise your fist to knock—you hear it. 

rather, you hear them. 

the unmistakable sound of his voice, muffled but clear enough that you can make out the low hum of his tone, followed by a girl’s laugh—a breathy, high-pitched laugh that makes your stomach twist.

you freeze, standing in the doorway, caught between disbelief and something you can’t quite name. your heartbeat picks up in your chest, your body tensing as the reality of the situation settles over you.

you’re not sure what exactly it is—maybe it’s the fact that it’s so casual, or maybe it’s the way the sound of it makes you feel like you’re intruding—but you feel a sudden flush creep up your neck and cheeks.

“oh my god, o-oh my g-god! t-that’s it, jungkook! oh god, baby… f-fuck!”

“fuck—you close, baby?”

“so close, baby. so fucking close. g-god, yes, yes, yes! nghh—fuck! so big, jungkook. oh my god, oh my god! fuck me, fuck me… j-just like that, baby. yes, y-yes–o-oh! mhmmmphhh—”

"shit, shit, shit..."

"fuck me harder, jungkook. please! o-oh? oh! oh my god! yes... yes! thank you, baby. thank you, thank you! ahhh... oh my god..."

you swallow, stepping back, retreating to the stairs. 

the guilt of overhearing makes your pulse race in an odd way, like you’ve been caught in something you weren’t supposed to see.

at the bottom of the stairs, you pause, your hand on the banister, unsure whether you should stay or go. 

you quickly decide. 

you’re already feeling the sting of something sharp and unfamiliar in your chest.

“guys,” you say quickly, trying to keep your tone light, but there’s an edge to it you can’t mask. "y-you know what? i think i’ll just head home. i’ve got a ton of work to do.”

they look at you, confused. taehyung blinks a couple of times, jimin frowning. 

“but we—"

"y-yeah,” you breathe. “i… i know. i just… it’s all good. you guys can go ahead without me,” you add, forcing a smile.

“slow down, ___. what—”

“i feel sick,” you confess. “okay? i feel sick.”

“okay… can one of us drive you home or something—”

“no. i’m good. thank you, though… i.. i gotta go.”

they all frown, their confusion morphing into concern, but you’ve already grabbed your things and hurried out the door before they can protest.

the cold night air feels like a slap to your face as you walk away, but it doesn’t quite shake the unsettled feeling in your stomach. 

you can’t stop thinking about it. 

about how you feel.

about what you heard.

about how much you fucking hate jeon jungkook.

it’s almost 10PM by the time you finish showering. your hair is still damp, hanging loosely around your shoulders as you brush it out in front of the mirror. the soft swish of the brush is the only sound in the room, your thoughts still lingering on what happened earlier. the image of Jungkook with that girl, the sound of their voices together, keeps replaying in your mind, and it won’t leave.

you shut your eyes and try to forget. 

taking a breath in—your moment is interrupted by a knock on your door. 

you frown, glancing at the clock before moving to the door, towel still hanging from your shoulders. it’s late, and you weren’t expecting anyone. 

heading towards the door, you wonder who it is.

then, when you open the door, you freeze.

there, standing in the hallway with a takeout bag in hand, is jungkook. his face is unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes—seem to be searching yours for something. you can’t quite figure out what.

you blink, caught off guard by the unexpected visit, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

“uh…” jungkook clears his throat, breaking the silence, his voice lower than usual. “the guys think i did something to piss you off… so i’m supposed to say sorry for… whatever i did.”

“you didn’t do anything,” you lie. “goodnight.”

just as you’re about to shut the door, he takes a step forward. 

“___,” he says, tone flat and annoyed. “don’t be a bitch. just tell me what i did so i can apologize, go home and tell them what i did wrong, and we can act like nothing happened—”

“okay,” you shrug. “you wore an ugly shirt today. there. say sorry.”

jungkook winces at you. 

“seriously?”

you shrug again. 

“what do you want, jungkook? i have nothing to say to you—”

“i don’t fucking understand where all this attitude is coming from. i didn’t do shit to you today. you know i didn’t… so, can you please use your tiny brain to make something up? something more convincing than hating my fucking shirt.” 

you nod, pretending to care. then, just as you reach for the door to shut it again; jungkook swiftly moves past you. he lets himself in. 

“they’re worried you didn’t eat,” he states. “did you eat?”

you groan at him. “why the fuck do you care?”

“i don’t.”

but his actions say otherwise. 

jungkook then takes off his shoes and heads to your coffee table. he sits himself on the floor and begins to unpack the food. silently, you watch as he does so and can’t help but feel like throwing up. 

“eat,” he commands. 

you glare at him. 

“get out.”

jungkook leans back against your couch. “eat, tell me what i did wrong, then i’ll leave.”

“leave first.”

“eat first.”

“get out.”

“holy shit,” jungkook scoffs. “are you even capable of forming a complex sentence, or is that too much for you? ___, this is called a conversation. you’re supposed to—"

“get out.”

jungkook sighs heavily. 

a silence falls upon you two. 

jungkook has had difficult days with you before.

this is nothing new… but for some reason, right now feels harder than the other days. partly because most days he knows when he’s being an asshole—but today? he has no clue. 

he’s in the dark. 

jungkook clears his throat. 

“i didn’t yell at you today,” he starts. “i didn’t call you names. you called me a nerd but that was it… your face ruined my day but i guess it made the others pretty happy since they were so pissed at me for being the reason why you left… so, hey… how about this? you tell me what i did wrong for the guys. not for me.”

you raise an eyebrow at him. 

his eyes plead. 

then, a moment passes. 

instead of answering him, you pick up your feet and sit on the floor beside him. you look at the door and take the utensils from the bag. poking at the food, you contemplate on telling him what’s going on in your head. 

just as you’re about to eat a spoonful of the food, you suddeny feel jungkook close to you. without saying a word, his fingers brush lightly against your cheek, making you hold your breath. his hand moves to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear, carefully pushing it out of the way so it doesn’t fall into your food. 

the gesture is so unexpectedly gentle that it catches you off guard, and for a second, you’re just left there, staring at him.

he looks at you sincerely. in his eyes, you can see his defeat. 

you don’t know if it was the gesture or the look in his eyes—but your words slip out of your mouth faster than you can think to stop it. 

“she was too loud.”

he tilts his head at you. 

“oh,” jungkook connects. his expression stiffens for a split second, then he schools it back into calm. “overheard, did you?” he asks, leaning in slightly, voice a low murmur. 

“oh, i definitely heard,” you reply, folding her arms, feigning thoughtfulness. “don’t act so cocky… she sounded like she was faking it.”

he stares, jaw flexing, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something challenging in his eyes. 

“that’s cute coming from someone who couldn’t even stay for dinner.”

suddenly that pang of jealousy again hits again. 

you know you should just brush it off… keep your cool and act nonchalant about it—but something about jungkook just makes you feel so off balance. 

“maybe i had better things to do,” you retort. 

“like what?” 

you shrug. 

“like leave.”

“you should’ve knocked,” jungkook smirks. “i would’ve opened the door. we don’t mind an audience usually.” 

there it is again. 

the sick, sinking, icky feeling. 

“you two fuck often?”

jungkook looks away, taking a moment to think. 

“yeah,” he admits. “what? surprised nerds get laid?”

you stay quiet. 

“i mean.. it’s not really any of your business…" he mutters, though there’s a tension in his voice that doesn’t match his casual shrug. you can tell he's trying to brush it off, but the way his jaw tightens betrays him.

you feel your stomach tighten, the words you threw out lingering in the air between you, each one heavier than the last. you weren’t expecting him to react like this—maybe a joke or a deflecting comment—but not this… 

tension.

"right," you reply, your tone softer than you intended. you glance down at your food, suddenly losing your appetite. the casual air you were hoping for is long gone, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that neither of you seems willing to break.

jungkook shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat. 

"look, it’s not like that," he adds quickly, but the words sound almost too defensive. "she’s just... i don’t know. it’s nothing serious."

you don’t respond immediately, still caught up in the strange mix of feelings his words stir in you. the way he said it—like it was nothing serious—feels too much like an attempt to distance himself from whatever was going on.

you’re not sure what you wanted from this conversation, but now all you feel is a growing knot in your chest.

"yeah," you mutter, trying to sound indifferent, but the weight of his words hangs in the air, making your throat feel tight. "whatever you say—”

“why do you care anyway?” jungkook’s voice is sharp now, a slight edge creeping into his tone as he looks at you, his expression shifting from defensive to something you can’t quite place.

you’re caught off guard by the question. 

you weren’t prepared for that, weren’t prepared for the way it makes your chest tighten. why do you care? it’s not like you have any right to, right?

you open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you just shrug, trying to play it cool, but you can feel your pulse quicken. 

"i don’t. i just—"

"you just what?" he interrupts, his brow furrowing, as though he’s not buying the act. "you’ve never cared before. why start now?"

you clench your fists at your sides, feeling the sting of his words more than you want to admit. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him—tell him how seeing him with her, hearing them laugh together, makes something ugly twist in your stomach. 

but you can’t.

"i don’t know," you finally mutter, your voice quieter than before. “it's weird. like, of course i knew you weren't a virgin but... are you actually that good? then again… doesn’t take much to fake sounds like her.”

jungkook’s eyes flicker to yours, something unreadable passing through them before he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. then, he smirks. 

it’s more calculated, though… like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

"curious?"

"disgusted, actually."

a beat.

"what, you wanted it to be you?" he asks, his voice smooth, a challenge in his tone.

you almost choke on your breath, but you recover quickly. "me? sleeping with you? please."

he lets out a low laugh, but it’s not playful this time. 

it’s more mocking. 

“yeah, i mean, i don’t even want you that bad…" he takes a slow look at you, like he's mentally assessing you, deciding if you’re worth his time. "not even close."

the words sting more than they should, but you keep your composure. 

you try to look unbothered, but his next words twist the knife a little deeper.

“fuck you.”

"you wish i’d fuck you," he remarks, almost casually, like it's no big deal. "would make things easier, huh?"

your chest tightens, and something about the way he says it makes your blood run cold. It’s not just teasing anymore—it’s a jab.

but you refuse to let him see how much it affects you.

"i’m not interested in you," you shoot back, your voice betraying none of the discomfort you’re feeling. 

he leans in a little, eyes never leaving yours. 

"really?" 

“really.”

his smirk widens, and you can feel the tension crackling in the air. 

“guess what? i think you care more than you're letting on. you act like you don’t give a shit, but it’s so obvious you’re just pissed it’s not you in my bed."

you bite your lip, trying to keep your voice steady, but something betrays you in the way your heart races. 

"i’m not pissed," you mutter, the words coming out too quickly, like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. "why would i be?"

jungkook watches you for a moment, taking in every little reaction. 

"i don’t know, ___," he says, his tone low and teasing, like he’s enjoying every second of this. "but it’s cute. you’re all flushed, trying to act like you don’t care, but i can see right through you."

you grit your teeth, wanting to snap back, but instead, you just look away. 

"shut up," you mutter, frustrated with yourself more than anything. "you’re such an asshole sometimes, you know?"

he laughs again, but this time there’s something darker in it, almost like he's reveling in your frustration. 

“i don’t think you’re as immune to me as you pretend to be," he says. "but hey, don’t stress about it, baby. i’m not that interested either. i mean, what’s the fun in fucking you? it’d be harder getting rid of you than getting in your pants.”

you feel the sting of his words hit harder than they should.

“are you done?” you mutter, forcing a nonchalant tone. "and don't call me baby. you called her baby. i don't want to be associated—"

"you think you'd fold as fast as she did?"

jungkook’s eyes flicker with something that could almost be amusement—or maybe something else. he clears his throat.

“shit, ___. i’m sorry—”

“yeah?” 

you don't know why, but something inside you snaps. 

you shift your body close to him. so close that you glance at his lips, then back up to his eyes, as if you’re weighing something—daring him to make a move.

jungkook’s body tenses, his breath shallow, like he's ready to close the distance… to make some sort of move. his lips part slightly as if he's about to speak, but before he can, you push him away. 

now, he’s tongue tied.

“shit, jungkook... i'm sorry," you mock him. "but you're wrong... this is fun."

[kaiyunsim]

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

kiss kiss fall in love | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

your hormones have peeked at your five month mark. your belly started to properly show now and your tastebuds were only slightly concerning. at least the morning sickness was gone, top two worst things about pregnancy, second having to give birth.

you lounged on the couch as you watched your daughter and husband playing on the floor, bits of their hair covered their faces in a curtain. spencer was already teaching her the ways of chess, she asked him many questions.

“how come the queen isn’t wearing a gold crown? she’s special.��� holding a black chess piece in her small palm. you chuckled at the childish question.

“well she is wearing a crown, but if you want we can paint it gold. she is the most important piece of the game.” spencer agreed with annabeth, ruffling her locks. he stood from the ground, made a quick stop to kiss your cheek and went into the hallway to comeback with the craft supplies box. he pulled out the paint pens, “why don’t you decorate all of them how you want? it’ll be our special set.”

annabeth went quick to work on coloring over the pieces, some covered in swirled and dots while others had hearts or stars. she even drew a couple of happy expressions, then one sad one, “because he’s just a pawn.” you and spencer chuckled at her reasoning.

you rubbed your palm along your swollen stomach, old stretch marks reappearing at the bottom. your cotton shorts and simple tank feeling suffocating even with minimal fabric. “oh!” a tiny yelp from your lips, eyes widening and mouth pursing.

spencer snapped his head your way, “what’s wrong?” hurrying over to you. annabeth stopped her work to watch both of you with her big eyes. you let a smile ease onto your face, “the baby kicked.”

annabeth scrambled over, “can i feel?” tucking her hands into her chest for restraint. “of course, sweets. here,” holding a palm out for her tiny hand to sit and you guided it over to where the kick happened.

“try speaking to them. they like hearing our voices,” whispering to your daughter when the baby didn’t kick right away. little annabeth leaned in close, her lips grazing your ticklish skin, “i can’t wait to meet you. i’m gonna be the best big sister to you.”

it took a moment but then another kick appeared, “kick! i felt a kick!” she squealed, giving a little jump to her body. she looked to spencer, “daddy! daddy feel the baby!” reaching for his hand like you did earlier.

spencer cooed and gasped with annabeth when another kick appeared. “hi little one,” spencer whispered close, “i’m your daddy and your big sister is next to me. we can’t wait to meet you.” another strong kick followed.

“okay, how about we give mommy a rest. cause my organs aren’t feeling happy about being a soccer ball.” ruffling at your daughter hair. annabeth pressed a kiss goodbye to the growing baby and went back to her art project.

spencer joined you on the couch, arm thrown behind your head and resting on your shoulders while you leaned into him. “how are you feeling? need anything?” his rich voice caressing your ear and making your heart race.

you turned to him with a bright smile, “i do actually. i need a thousand kisses from you. haven’t been given my usually attention.” pouting exaggerated.

spencer looked surprised, “a thousand? man i must be really behind.” clicking his teeth. you nodded, “you have mister. better get started.” puckering up with your eyes closed.

spencer’s light giggles filled your soul and then his lips on yours caused a craving. “more,” a quiet demand.

a fast peck, “oh this is gonna take awhile.”

a lingering drawl, “we’re getting somewhere.”

another fast kiss, but you could tell spencer didn’t move far away. his breath tingled your wet lips, “i’m gonna have to call hotch to babysit if you want all those kisses.” a fifth kiss before his weight left the couch and his footsteps disappeared. you thought it was a little funny he was gonna call his boss on an off day so your child and his could have that playdate that’s been in the works.

“bethie,” calling for your daughter with outstretched arms. she worked her way beside you on the couch an wrapped her arms in a side hug, here genetic reid puppy eyes glaring upon you. “would you be okay to have a playdate with jack today?” smoothing a hand over the crown of her head.

“really?” eyes wide with excitement. you nodded, “you have to be a good girl for mr and mrs. hotchner. that’s daddy’s boss and our friend, say please and thank you. and also make sure you’re cleaning up after yourself.”

spencer walked back into the living room, “the hotchners are on their way. and they happily agreed to bethie joining them on their trip to the aquarium.” scooping annabeth up, both of them yelling “aquarium! aquarium!”

“i wanna see the stingrays!” annabeth declared to jack when him and hotch appeared at your door fifteen minutes later. the three of you watched the two chat while you packed her little backpack of supplies, you handed it off to hotch with a grateful smile.

“thank you for accepting on short notice. i just really want to be alone with my husband, im deprived of attention. i’m wilting like a flower.” sighing and aching as you talked to hotch.

the older man smiled and lightly chuckled, you’re one of the few to crack that stone facade spencer says. “jack’s been missing her anyway, he was trying for a sleepover as well tonight.” you raised your brows, “we’ll see how the afternoon goes.”

once you were completely alone, you dragged spencer behind you into your shared bedroom. “more kisses please,” sitting at the foot of the bed.

spencer moved to stand in the space between your spread legs, his hands cupping at your cheeks like you were fine china. your wandering fingers slid under his plain t-shirt, sitting in his waistband and rubbing against his slim stomach. “don’t keep me waiting, pretty boy. i will start getting angry.”

spencer bent in and let his plush lips mesh with yours, his nose tickling at your cheek when he changed angles to broaden the intimate act. a hum sounded from your throat as you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue wonder, desperately needing a french kiss. a moan echoed in the room as spencer moved from your lips to your jaw, further down onto your neck.

“this- this is nice,” letting a hand sink into the ends of his hair. your nails scratching at his scalp as your eyes fluttered and pulse spiked.

“i love you so much,” lips causing a shiver to erupt. you sighed, “i- i love you too. so lucky for- for marrying you.” your hands starting to mess with spencer’s belt and zipper.

“gonna show you how loved you are.”

[tanghuyuj]

i find comfort in you

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: idol!woonhak x non-idol gn!reader

warnings: nothing but woonhak is playing ow.

word count: 0.6k words

maia’s note: little drabble bcuz it’s woonhak day!! he’s 18 now.. he’s growing up so fast :(( i love unak so much and i hope he has a great day filled w/ lots of love!! also this work is NOT very good and isn’t really proofread but it is cute. enjoy reading!! reblogs and likes are always appreciated ����

after a long and exhausting day, this is just what you needed.

there you laid in woonhaks embrace, watching him struggle in his current game of overwatch. “aghh!!” he frustratedly groaned at the screen. him and his team had just lost the objective.

you giggled, observing his reactions. his lips were sealed in a pout and his eyebrows were furrowed together.

“what? is my frustration funny?” he said, keeping his eyes locked on the television.

you smiled, still looking at him, “yes, very.”

he let out a scoff and you ruffled his hair. the whole week you two hadn’t been able to spend time together. he is, of course, an idol preparing for his next comeback, and you’re a student, a hardworking one at that.

you both found passion for your respective careers, that being what bonded you together. but sometimes, this passion can be too strong. and more often than usual, you both become extremely burnt out.

woonhak’s game finishes with a loss and he falls back into the couch, you still in his arms with your head resting on his shoulder.

he isn’t his normal self. usually, when he loses, he’s more dramatic about it and performs some act like falling to his knees or reaching out to the tv screen, but he doesn’t do that. seeing this, you definitely know it’s because he’s too tired.

you hum, “that was a good game.”

he sighs, “it wasn’t. i’m so out of it.”

he looks at you and your faces are just inches away. looking at him like this; you see the dark circles under his eyes and the droopy corners of his mouth.

“woonhak..” you pause until he gives you a look that signals you to continue. “you can talk to me about anything okay? your worries are mine, and even if you don’t want that, it’s uncontrollable.”

“but i don’t want to be a burden to you.”

you give him a reassuring smile, “you could never be a burden to me.” you take his hand and carve little hearts on it. “let’s make a promise. whenever one of us is feeling exhausted or upset, let’s tell each other. we can be each other’s escape, hm?”

he nods, “okay.” woonhak sticks out his pinky finger and you entangle yours into his, locking your promise.

after this he pulls you closer to him, into a full hug. he snuggles his face into the side of your neck and mumbles something. you pull away and look at him with confusion. “what is it?” you ask.

woonhak responds, intertwining both your hands together, “nothing much. i just find comfort in your presence; you in general.”

your face warms up and you smile, but it turns more into a grin.

his cheeks flush, “hey! why are you laughing?”

you shake your head. “you just,” struggling to get the words out from your laughter, “you’re too cute hak!”

woonhak wasn’t a big fan of being called cute, but when you say it, it’s the best compliment he’s ever gotten—especially with that nickname.

“hey.. you can’t just say things like that.” he says, turning his head the other way so you couldn’t see the huge smile on his face.

you notice this and turn your head in that direction so you can see him face to face, leading you both to start bursting with laughter.

“you can’t say anything! i saw you cheesin’!” you say in between laughs.

“no..” he replies, trying to stifle the laughter.

days and weeks go by as woonhak does his idol duties and you go through the school cycle. but throughout those times, you stand by each others side; holding the others hand through it all.

please DO NOT copy, repost, or translate.

[yikesmary]

SHAVE — kim mingyu x reader

summary: with your boyfriend’s comeback approaching, mingyu asks you to help with shaving.

notes: i am in love with domestic one shots like this one!!

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"Stop moving," you scolded.

"I can't help it, it tickles," Mingyu whined.

You grabbed his jaw and moved him so you were able to carefully shave the slight stubble he grew. While you were so on board with Mingyu trying to grow out a beard, his company required him to shave if there was hair.

Which was where you came in. Since your relationship, Mingyu always asked you to shave for him. It started off as a one-time thing since he had forgotten to do so and in a hurry, asked you to do it. You were hesitant at first, seeing as there was always the chance you could cut him and make him bleed.

However, you were careful and Mingyu made sure to guide you on how to do it and he was very vocal if you were close to cutting him. Ever since that day, whenever Mingyu had a photoshoot that required him to do some close shots, he'd ask you to help him out.

Now, this is how you find yourself on a Saturday night, in the bathroom with Mingyu. Your body was slotted in between his legs so he was able to be close to you while you shaved him.

"Gyu, choose the butt or the waist to hold onto and stick with it, your moving is not helping," you warned him, feeling him go back and forth on holding onto your butt and your waist since you started.

"But both are so comfortable," he pouted, which was hilarious considering his face was still partially covered with shaving cream.

"Gyu."

"How about one hand on your butt and one hand on your waist?" he propositioned.

"As long as you stay still I don't care," you said.

Once he rested his hands on both your butt and waist, you went back to shaving him. As time went on, you've become an expert at shaving his face. It's to the point where Mingyu had become used to how you practically moved his head to shave his stubble better that he was basically like a doll and all he had to do was let himself be moved by you.

Satisfied with your work, you moved to lightly wash the razor in order to get rid of the hair and shaving cream that stayed on it. Then, you grabbed a nearby dry rag, soaked it in warm water, then turned back around to face Mingyu.

Mingyu already knew the drill and let you wipe his face and neck just in case there was any leftover residue that was left.

"Done," you announced.

You moved to the side in order for Mingyu to stand up and observe your work. He moved closer to the mirror and inspected your work, nodding in satisfaction.

"You did good, baby," he said, and you beamed.

"Can I cut your hair next time? Your hair is starting to get long, and I love you, but Jeonghan is the only one that can pull off long hair,"

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[wqterlillypdfs]

summer blues

pairing: jeremiah fisher x fem!reader, bestfriend!steven conklin x fem!reader

summary: All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, general sad thoughts. dumbass idiot jeremiah. unedited!

a/n: i went thru like the full range of emotions writing this fic, idk how i feel abt it but this is my comeback after three months of no writing. anyways, hope u enjoy!! 💞. reblogs are appreciated as always!

The sun sets low, casting a warm glow upon the unfamiliar garden. The air is thick with the hum of laughter and music that drifts from the house, and everything seems perfect. It should be perfect. This is the stuff summer dreams are made of, and yet, you’re sitting on the outdoor furniture, alone, and left to your own devices.

Summer so far has been nothing but longing. You had watched as the one boy who had captured your heart at ten spent days at the beach with girls you didn’t even know the names of. And sure, it’s not like you have anything, not even close. But could you blame yourself? Jeremiah was nothing but perfect Carolina-blue eyes and golden skin. He was your summer dream.

The house party was meant to be a distraction, that’s what Steven had said when he tugged you into his car. It’ll be fun, you need to stop being sad all summer. He was nothing but adamant to make this summer the best yet, especially with the overhanging weight that Conrad and himself would be moving to college next year. Steven had never been fond of change, especially not when it came to summers at Cousins.

Steven had long since abandoned you to dance the night away with pretty girls and hooting boys, so instead here you are, sitting alone at a party, trying to fill the Jeremiah-shaped cavity in your heart with fruity drinks and loud music. 

Jeremiah hadn’t been in sight when you first arrived at the party, and maybe that was a good thing. You could enjoy yourself for once, without your wandering eyes finding him somewhere with his hand on a girl's waist. Even just the thought of it made you sick to your stomach.

But sometime between then and now, he had shown up. Figures. And now you watch as he makes his way out of the big back doors, down the patio steps, past the pool, until he’s sitting with you in the makeshift gazebo, fairy lights sparkling above.

“Hey trouble,” Jeremiah greets as he sits on the plush outdoor sofa next to you, sidled up close enough that he bumps his shoulder with yours in welcome.

“Hey,” you parrot back, not meaning for the obvious buzzkill tone in your voice.

“What’s got you all bummed out?”

“Dunno.” you reply, eyeing the cold drink you’re balancing on your thigh which leaves a cold ring of condensation on your bare skin. “Did Steven send you to get me?”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he cocks his head to the side. “No? Why would he need to? Can I not check up on my favourite girl?”

You let out a bemused snort, running your finger around the brim of your glass, eyes still not meeting his. Maybe you have had too much to drink.

“Come dance with me,” he says instead, hand outstretched, waiting for yours. You let your head fall against the back of the sofa.

“Not in a dancing mood.”

You don’t know if it’s the drinks or if it’s real, but Jeremiah shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his features as he tucks the stray strands of hair that have fallen in front of your face behind your ear. His hand lingers there a few seconds too long.

“What happened to dancing the summer away?” He questions, and when you finally look up to meet his eyes, he’s much closer than you expected.

“I was fifteen when I said that,” you note, which was almost two years ago now. How does he remember these things?

Jeremiah doesn’t respond immediately so you take your eyes off him, instead you watch the house glow to life, light filling the windows as the dark night begins to blanket the sky. The garden itself is empty with most of the party opting to escape the summer heat by seeking shelter indoors. A few girls are busy by the poolside, and you notice one of them keeps diverting her gaze back to where you and Jeremiah are sitting. Typical.  It was like every girl in Cousins was obsessed with the prospect of at least one of the Fisher boys taking fancy in them. Was it bad that it always made you jealous? Everyone who sees him, wants him, and you wish you could keep him as just yours.

“You have an admirer,” you point out, nodding to the girl by the pool. You must admit, she’s gorgeous. Pretty brown eyes and gorgeous hair that even when wet seems to frame her face perfectly. You slink further down in your seat.

Jeremiah simply rolls his eyes at you. “Well she is pretty.” 

And you know he means it as a joke. Can tell by the stupid grin and the tone of his voice. But the words are still like a dagger to your heart, twisting and turning until you can barely breathe - and oh God, you need to get out of here and away from him. 

You set the drink down by the sofa, it meets the wooden deck with a too-loud clink before you stand abruptly. You brush down the skirt that had ridden up your legs as the ring of water on your thigh left behind by the glass soaks the edges of it. “I need to go,” is all you can murmur out.

“No, wait-” Jeremiah begins, standing to follow you.

“It’s fine,” you push, faux niceties lacing your voice, smiling as much as the ache in your chest will let you. You can feel the frown on his face burn into your back as you turn to leave, but you choose to ignore it, instead making your way back into the large lively house.

As you pass the pool though, the girl who has been eyeing Jeremiah gets up with a giddy look on her face, she calls to him in a sweet honeyed voice and it makes you sick. 

You climb the patio steps, making your way through the lavish interior of the house.

You push through the crowd of people within the house. You just need a moment to yourself, to gather your thoughts and figure out just what the fuck was going on with you. Carefully, you slip into the bathroom, pushing the door shut with the weight of your body before leaning against the sink. You take deep breaths, trying to calm the beating of your heart.

All summer, you had been in some strange sad limbo, and you had blamed Jeremiah for that. For all the girls he had kissed at every party, for the way he made your heart beat and palms grow clammy. But really, was it his fault when you were the one who pushed him away?

Being in love with Jeremiah Fisher was anything but easy, not when you had to dance around the intricate friendship that had blossomed since you were eight years old. You didn’t know what love was until you were fifteen, sitting on the pier with him as you skidded rocks across the ocean. When he had smiled that smile and his eyes sparkled like the entire cosmos was within them. From that very moment on, you were doomed. Every brush of his hand against yours felt like a calculated step, and it was your fault for deluding yourself into believing he had space in his heart for anything more than a friendship with you.

It’s only a million times worse when you’re as close with him as you are, casual flirting and lingering touches was nothing but the norm. So it was especially difficult when he’d grab your hand and lead you through a crowd, or whisper some stupid inside joke just for you in a crowded room, when such a simple touch set your body alight with sparks. 

“Knock knock,” you hear the door open softly, Steven’s head poking through. You had forgotten to lock the door, you realise. “Jeremiah thinks you're mad at him.” He informs, voice careful and soft as he closes the door behind him, making his way to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the turmoil within yourself. Instead, you offer a weak smile letting out a shaky exhale. “Well, I’m not.”

Steven looks amused as he leans with his back against the sink next to you, tilting his head so it falls into your field of vision. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” You confirm.

“I think you’re lying.”

You take another breath, “I’m not mad, i’m just…” your voice trails off as you try to find the words.

“Angry, confused, sad?” Steven offers.

You shake your head as you poke his shoulder, “would you let me speak?”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” he throws his hands up in surrender.

“I’m just… tired,” you say, defeated. Steven gives you an apologetic look. He’s known about your not-so-little crush on Jeremiah. How could he not when he seemed to be the only person who could light you up when you were dim and down? 

“I’m tired of having to watch him go out with other girls every other day. I mean it’s not like we’re exclusive - we’re definitely not - but I just wish I didn’t feel like throwing up everytime.”

For a second, Steven doesn’t say anything, he looks at you with those eyes he does when he’s thinking. “What’s that thing Susannah always says?”

“What?”

“About…” He blows out his bottom lip as he struggles to remember the words, “about how love is like a flower, it needs time to grow and blossom and you need to nurture it.”

You pause, before cracking a smile. “Never in a million years would I have even imagined you quoting one of Susannah’s cheesy pieces of romance advice.”

Steven rolls his eyes at you, but he can’t help the smile that creeps up on him too. “Look, the point is, love isn’t supposed to be easy. Like, at all. But you really like Jeremiah, and I get it, he can really suck sometimes, especially with the whole hooking up thing,” - he looks up at you as he finishes his sentence, - “but if you love him as much as you let on, you’ve gotta just go for it. You need to stop pushing him away because of your irrational fear.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to face Steven, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. “Okay, it’s not irrational, it’s completely rational. What if I just end up ruining everything? That’s a super real possibility. I don’t want to lose Jeremiah as a friend, and the risk of running that possibility is way too high.”

“God,” Steven lets out through a sigh, he looks like he wants to strangle you. “Listen to yourself! Maybe if you haven’t been moping around all summer you’d be able to see it.”

“See what?”

“Just go out there and talk to the boy.”

“This’d be a lot easier if you just told me.”

“I think you’d appreciate me a lot more if you figured it out for yourself.” Steven tells you, and he says it in a way that leaves little room to bicker back. He gives you an encouraging nod and a soft smile and for a minute you think he’ll say another stupid thing like go get ‘em tiger! But he graces you with silence and leaves you alone in the small bathroom.

You look back at yourself in the mirror. Maybe Steven is right. 

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

Jeremiah is sitting on the steps of the patio when he hears the sliding glass doors open and shut and the shuffle of Steven’s old sneakers. Immediately, his head swivels so he’s facing his long-time best friend. “So what’d she say? Is she mad?” He blurts out immediately.

“Woah, slow down lover-boy,” Steven says, amusement in his tone. He takes a seat next to Jeremiah, placing his hands either side of himself. “Well, she’s not happy.”

“What the fuck, bro,” Jeremiah grumbles, “you were meant to deescalate the situation.”

“Actually no, I was checking up on my friend, who I care about, and who I haven’t been dancing around all summer long.” Steven corrects.

Jeremiah looks away, unamused, “okay I get it. I haven’t been the best person to her lately.”

“Really?” Steven gasps, faux surprise lacing his tone, “You’ve been avoiding her like the plague and hanging around with random girls like you want her to be upset.”

“I don’t!” Jeremiah is quick to retort. “I’m just…”

“You’re just being a dick.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Look man, I’m not trying to upset you either, but I really don’t get why you’re so scared to confront your feelings. You like her, you like her a lot and it’s so fuckin’ obvious.”

Jeremiah opens his mouth, ready to argue back, but Steven leaves no room for it.

“She literally craves your attention and you’re out here, making out with other girls like she’s not right there. Is this some weird attention grab sort of thing? What, are you trying to make her jealous? This isn’t like you, Jere.”

Steven’s words cut deep. So deep Jeremiah thinks they’ve scarred him, but maybe it’s for the best. No, it’s definitely for the best. 

“Think about it,” is the last thing Steven says, before he stands up, giving Jeremiah a reassuring pat on the back, and disappears into the crowd of party-goers within the house.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

When you finally feel ready enough to leave the bathroom, you think for a moment about Steven’s words. They kick around in your head. You chuckle to yourself, who knew you’d ever be taking legitimate advice from Steven? But instead of confronting your problems like you should, you pour yourself another drink, turning on your heels as you ascend the glossy white stairs. Whoever’s house this is - in the words of Steven himself - they’re fucking loaded. 

The upstairs of the house is empty, albeit a few straggling couples making out in the hallway. You ignore them, noticing the gorgeous open balcony that conjoins to the hallway you’re currently walking down. It’s quiet and empty, a perfect place to spend the rest of the night in peace.

The moon hangs low in the sky now, reflecting off the ocean ahead, and as you step out onto the balcony the cool Summer night’s air bites at your skin. 

It's a glorious view for what should’ve been a perfect night. Laughter and music wafts up from the party below, and you let out another regretful sigh, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. As your eyes linger on the ocean, you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You turn to see Jeremiah standing beside you, and when you look at him, he gives you that sweet smile.

“Hey trouble,” he begins, “you alright?”

You shrug, turning your back to the balcony as you slide your back down the railing, slumping to the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. “Trying to be.”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Jeremiah with such a soft voice felt unnatural, and a part of you felt guilty for rendering him so quiet. Silence stretches between both of you like a chasm, as you struggle to find the right words within you to tell him how you truly felt. Instead, Jeremiah fills the silence, his voice hesitant but filled with a quiet determination. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed look, “what are you apologising for?”

“For this entire summer,” he says, sitting on the ground next to you as he takes the cool glass from your hands, fingers brushing yours, before he places it on the ground. You tilt your head, curiosity in your eyes as you wait for him to continue.

“I’ve been an asshole. Like, bigtime, and I'm really sorry.” He takes a deep breath, takes your hand in his carefully, softly, like you’re something to be worshipped. To him you are. “And, I… need to tell you something.”

You look up at him, heart racing with anticipation, “what is it?” you all but murmur.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I just-” and when he can’t find the right words, because how is he meant to compress everything he’s ever felt for you into one sentence? It’s impossible. He instead uses his actions. 

His hands untangle from yours, grabbing the sides of your face before pulling you into a kiss. He kisses you. He kisses you and the world falls away and there’s nothing but him. At first, you don’t know what to do, it’s all so sudden, but when it finally registers, you want to cry. Not sad tears, and not entirely tears of joy either, tears of relief, tears that carry the weight of all your longing.

When he finally pulls away you’re quick to pull him back, holding him as close as humanly possible as you kiss him with all the fervour you can muster, hoping and praying he can taste the apology on your lips. But when it gets too much, and you need air, you pull away again. He looks at you, and you hold onto the fabric of his shirt tighter because this all feels like a dream.

“She isn’t you.” He murmurs, soft enough it could be carried away by the summer breeze.

“What?” you whisper back, as to not break the sacred quietness.

“She's. Not. You. None of them are, none of them could even dream of being you. They’re not funny like you, not gorgeous like you. They don’t know me like you do - Shit, I sound like a sap.”

You chuckle, “no, please do continue.”

He shoots you that heartstopping grin. “Oh, so you do like it when I flatter you?”

“Love it,” you answer, mirroring his grin.

His features soften for a second, and again, the apologies cascade from his lips. “I’m sorry, for being such an asshole. You deserve so much better than me, I’ve been the worst, and I didn’t mean to make you upset or jealous, I was just… nervous. God, you make me so nervous I do the dumbest shit.”

“I make you nervous?” You can’t help the disbelief in your voice.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He says, nothing but sincere. He smiles then, and that makes all of it worthwhile. 

You don’t know for how long you manage to get lost in him, but when your thoughts begin to wander, you let the thoughts flow freely from your lips. “Remember when we were ten,” you say, recounting the memory that started this all, “we had snuck out to the beach. We got home so late that night, and we tried to sneak back in, but of course that never works with Susannah. She had said something like-”

“No more sneaking out for the both of you,” Jeremiah continues, “she said we’d had too much fun.”

“But we did it anyway.” You finish, dumbfounded that he remembers that at all. “How do you remember all these things?”

“Because it’s you.” He says it like it’s obvious by now. His pretty blue eyes don’t leave yours for even a second. “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone the way I love you.”

You look at him with that stellar smile he loves so much, but before he can speak, you’re interrupted by the familiar presence of the boy who played cupid. 

Steven shakes his head, clear amusement in his eyes. "Finally,” he breathes out, as if it pained him to see the both of you dance around each other all summer. It probably did. His hands are wrapped around a cool glass, it’s empty. “I think this has been quite a night.”

You nod, blissful, turning to meet Jeremiah’s blue eyes. They speak volumes in themselves, a deep ocean blue that sparkles with some form of admiration, you can’t quite figure it out. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, pushing himself off the balcony floor as he extends a hand for you to take, which you do.

Maybe, this summer could be perfect after all.

‧₊˚☆༉‧₊˚.

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[loveanton]

er trips and dino plushies | lee anton

OVERALL: kids are hard enough to look after let alone when they’re sick, good thing you have your husband and dino stuffies to the rescue!

❀ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: husband!anton x f!reader ❀ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: slice of life au ❀ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.5k ⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: sick kids, mentions of pregnancy, protective anton, hospitals, pregnancy cramping, passed out child. please let me know if i missed anything !

┆彡 𝑎/n: daddy anton has made a comeback

The first rays of sunlight stream through the curtains, gently rousing you from sleep. Beside you, Anton stirs, his arm instinctively wrapping around your growing belly. At four months pregnant, you’re starting to show more prominently, and Anton can't get enough of talking to the baby.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Good morning," you reply, smiling as you place your hand over his.

Anton shifts closer, pressing his ear against your belly. "Hey there, little one," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "Daddy can't wait to meet you. Your sisters and brother are so excited too. Just a few more months, okay?"

You chuckle softly, running your fingers through his hair. "They'll be here before we know it."

Reluctantly, you both get out of bed. Anton stretches and yawns before turning to you. "I'll get started on breakfast. You go wake up the kids."

You nod and head to Chanwoo's room first. Your two-year-old son is still snuggled under his blanket, his favorite giraffe stuffie clutched tightly in his arms. As you gently shake him awake, he immediately reaches up, his sleepy eyes blinking open.

"Mama," he mumbles, wrapping his tiny arms around your neck and burying his face into your chest.

"Good morning, sweetheart," you whisper, kissing the top of his head. Despite the slight strain on your back, you can't resist holding him close. You know Anton would scold you for carrying him, but those morning cuddles are just too precious.

You carry Chanwoo to the twins' room next. Yechan and Chanmi are five, and while they usually wake up easily, today is different. Both girls are still curled up in their beds, clearly not wanting to get up.

"Come on, girls, time to wake up," you call softly, gently shaking Chanmi first.

She groans and finally opens her eyes, looking at you with a pout. "I don't feel good, Mommy," she says, her voice weak.

You press your hand to her forehead and feel the heat radiating off her. "You have a fever," you note, your heart sinking. "You can stay in bed. Daddy and I will bring you breakfast soon."

You move to Yechan's bed next, but as soon as you touch her, she feels even hotter than Chanmi. "Mommy, I don't feel good either," she groans, and before you can react, she bolts out of bed and runs to the bathroom.

"Chanwoo, go downstairs to Daddy, okay?" you instruct, putting him down gently. He clings to your leg, his eyes wide with worry.

"wan stay with you," he protests.

"I know, baby, but your sisters are sick. You don't want to get sick too, do you?" you reason gently.

Pouting, Chanwoo reluctantly lets go and makes his way downstairs, leaving you to follow Yechan. You find her in the bathroom, crying and vomiting into the toilet. Your heart breaks at the sight.

"It's okay, sweetheart," you soothe, holding her hair back. "Mommy's here."

Once Yechan is done, you help her strip out of her pajamas and run a warm bath. She shivers and whimpers, clearly feeling miserable. You wash her gently, trying to comfort her as best you can. After the bath, you dress her in fresh pajamas and tuck her back into bed.

"Mommy will bring you some medicine and breakfast soon, okay?" you promise, kissing her forehead.

You then turn to Chanmi, who has watched the entire process with tired eyes. "Do you want a bath too, sweetie?" you ask.

Chanmi nods weakly, allowing you to pick her up and carry her to the bathroom. The bath seems to do her some good, as she’s cooling down a bit compared to Yechan. After dressing her in clean pajamas, you tuck her back into bed and kiss her forehead as well.

Feeling more exhausted than ever, you finally make your way downstairs. Anton is in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while feeding Chanwoo cut-up strawberries. He looks up when he hears you enter and smiles softly.

"How are the girls?" he asks, concern evident in his eyes.

"They're both running fevers," you reply, sitting down at the table with a heavy sigh. "Yechan seems worse than Chanmi. I'll check their temperatures again after they eat and take some medicine."

"Call your mom and ask for advice if they don't get better," Anton suggests, his eyes flickering with worry. "She always knows what to do."

You nod in agreement. "I will."

You make yourself a bowl of cereal and feed Chanwoo some of your food as you update Anton on the girls' condition. "Yechan is really struggling. Chanmi seems a bit better after her bath, but Yechan… she threw up and looks so miserable."

Anton frowns, flipping another pancake. "We'll keep a close eye on them. I've made their favorite pancakes. Maybe that'll cheer them up a bit."

You smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful to have such a caring partner. Once you finish your cereal, you take a cooked pancake, top it with blueberries, strawberries, and a little whipped cream—just how Chanwoo likes it. You cut it up into tiny pieces so he won't choke, but as you place the plate in front of him, he immediately starts to pout.

"don' want pancakes. I want ice cream!" he declares, crossing his arms defiantly.

You try to explain gently. "Ice cream isn't for breakfast, sweetie. You need to eat what Daddy made."

Chanwoo's pout deepens, and he looks like he is about to throw a tantrum. Before he can, Anton steps in. "Chanwoo, you need to eat breakfast first. If you're good and eat your food, you can have some ice cream later. Deal?"

Chanwoo considers this for a moment before reluctantly nodding. "kay, daddy."

As he eats his food, you help Anton plate up the twins' breakfast. By the time Chanwoo finishes eating, Anton is done with the rest of the pancakes. You take Chanwoo to the living room, turning on Gracie's Corner to keep him entertained while you and Anton bring the twins their breakfast.

You carry a tray with pancakes, cut-up fruit, and a glass of juice upstairs, while Anton follows with a similar tray. Chanmi is half-asleep but smiles weakly when she sees the food.

"Thank you, Mommy. Thank you, Daddy," she says softly, trying to sit up.

You help her get comfortable and place the tray in front of her. "Eat up, sweetie. It'll help you feel better."

Next, you go to Yechan, who is lying in bed, looking miserable. "Hey, princess," you greet softly, placing the tray on her bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

Yechan shakes her head weakly. "Not good, Mommy."

You sit on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair back. "I know, baby. Try to eat something, okay? It'll help."

She nods reluctantly, picking at her food. You make sure both girls have their medicine and check their temperatures again. Chanmi's fever seems to be going down a bit, but Yechan's is still high.

"I'll call Mom and see what she suggests," you tell Anton, who nods in agreement.

Back downstairs, you find Chanwoo still engrossed in his show. You take a moment to catch your breath, sitting down next to him. Anton joins you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"You're doing great," he says, kissing your temple.

"Thanks," you reply, leaning into him.

He smiles and squeezes your shoulder. "They’ll be okay, don’t worry, it’s not good for the baby.”

"I'll call Mom now," you tell Anton before walking away.

You step into the kitchen for a bit of privacy and dial your mom’s number. It doesn’t take long for her to pick up.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you?" her warm voice comes through the line.

"Hey, Mom. The twins are both running fevers, and Yechan’s really struggling. Chanmi seems a bit better after a bath, but Yechan threw up," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Oh dear, that sounds rough," she responds sympathetically. "Keep a close eye on them. If they don’t get better within the next two hours or their fever continues to rise, you should take them to the hospital. Make sure they stay hydrated and rest as much as possible."

"Okay, thanks, Mom. I’ll do that," you say, feeling a bit more reassured.

"Call me if you need anything, and keep me updated," she adds.

"I will. Thanks again. Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, sweetheart," she replies before hanging up.

You return to the living room, where Anton is playing with Chanwoo. He looks up at you expectantly. "What did she say?"

"She said to keep a close eye on them. If they don’t get better in the next two hours or if their fever keeps rising, we should take them to the hospital," you relay, feeling a bit more in control of the situation.

Anton nods, his expression serious. "We’ll keep a close watch."

Chanwoo looks up from his show, his eyes bright with an idea. "Mama, I want to make sissies a card! Make them feel better."

Your heart melts at his sweet suggestion. "That’s a wonderful idea, Chanwoo."

Anton stands up, ready to help. "I’ll grab the supplies."

While Anton gathers paper, crayons, and stickers from the craft cupboard, you watch Chanwoo’s excitement grow. Anton spreads everything out on the coffee table, and Chanwoo eagerly dives into the project, his little hands moving quickly as he draws and decorates the cards.

You sit back and watch, feeling a swell of pride and love for your family. Anton helps Chanwoo with some of the trickier parts, like spelling out "Get Well Soon" on the cards. Together, they create colorful, heartfelt masterpieces.

Once the cards are done, Chanwoo beams with pride. "I’m gonna give them to sissies now!"

"Alright, go ahead," Anton says with a smile, giving Chanwoo a gentle pat on the back.

Chanwoo runs upstairs, his little feet pattering against the floor. You and Anton share a tender moment, watching him go.

"He’s such a good brother," you say softly, leaning into Anton.

"He really is," Anton agrees, wrapping an arm around you. "And you’re an amazing mom."

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words. "I couldn’t do it without you."

Anton tilts your chin up, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "We make a great team."

As Chanwoo is upstairs sharing his cards with his sisters, you and Anton take a moment to just be together. The house is unusually quiet, save for the soft sounds of Chanwoo’s enthusiastic chatter upstairs. Anton pulls you closer, and you rest your head on his shoulder, savoring the calm.

"Do you remember the first time we had to deal with the twins being sick?" Anton asks, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

You laugh softly, nodding. "How could I forget? We were so worried and clueless. You spent hours researching everything you could online, and we called your mom like three times."

Anton chuckles, shaking his head. "Yeah, we were a mess. But we got through it."

"And we’ll get through this too," you add.

Anton kisses your forehead and pulls back, looking at you with a mix of admiration and love. "You know, I’m really proud of how you handle everything. The kids, the house, this pregnancy. You make it all look so easy."

Your heart swells at his words. "It’s not easy, but having you by my side makes it manageable."

He kisses your forehead. "I feel the same way. We’re lucky to have each other."

You sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s company.

Chanwoo’s footsteps echo down the stairs, and he comes running back into the living room, his face lit up with excitement. "Sissies love the cards, Mama! They said thank you!"

You smile warmly, pulling him into your lap. "That’s wonderful, sweetheart. You did such a good job."

Chanwoo beams, snuggling into you. Anton wraps his arms around both of you, and for a moment, everything feels perfect despite the chaos of the day.

Chanwoo looks up at you with hopeful eyes. "Mama, can we watch a movie?"

Anton glances at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Why not? With the new baby on the way and the twins growing up so fast, we rarely get time to just relax with our baby boy."

You nod, feeling the same way. "What do you want to watch, Chanwoo?"

"Inside Out 2!" he exclaims, bouncing with excitement.

"Inside Out 2 it is," Anton says, grabbing the remote and navigating to the movie. 

You settle onto the couch with Chanwoo nestled between you and Anton, the warmth of your family creating a cozy atmosphere. As the movie begins, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. It’s been a long day, but these moments of togetherness make it all worthwhile.

Chanwoo is captivated by the movie, his eyes wide with wonder as he watches the characters on the screen. You and Anton exchange a smile, enjoying the rare quiet moment. As the movie progresses, Chanwoo’s eyelids grow heavy, and soon he’s fast asleep, his little head resting against your lap.

Anton gently lifts Chanwoo, careful not to wake him. "I’ll put him down for his nap," he whispers, carrying him to his room.

You follow, watching as Anton tucks Chanwoo into his bed. He looks so peaceful, his tiny body relaxed in sleep. You both stand there for a moment, gazing at him with love.

"Let’s go check on the twins," you say softly, and Anton nods in agreement.

You head to the twins' room, finding them still resting. Anton checks Chanmi’s temperature first, and she stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" you ask, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

"I’m okay, Mama," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "Just tired."

Anton nods, reading the thermometer. "Her temps down but she still has a slight fever. She’s getting better, though."

You both move to Yechan’s bed next, and your heart aches seeing her so unwell. Anton checks her temperature, and it hasn’t improved. Yechan cuddles into his side, tears streaming down her face.

"It’s okay, baby girl," Anton soothes, rubbing her back gently. "Can you try to drink some water for daddy?"

Yechan shakes her head, her tears coming harder. "I don’t want to, Daddy. It hurts."

You exchange a worried glance with Anton. "Sweetie, we might need to go to the hospital if you don’t get better. Do you want to go now or wait a little longer?"

Yechan’s eyes widen with fear. "Wait, please. I’m scared of the hospital."

Anton kisses the top of her head, his voice soft and reassuring. "Okay, we’ll wait another hour. But you need to rest and try to drink some water, okay?"

Yechan nods reluctantly, snuggling deeper into his side. You feel a pang of helplessness, wishing there was more you could do.

After making sure both girls are as comfortable as possible, you and Anton step out of the room, heading to your own bedroom. The weight of the day presses down on you, and you can feel the stress manifesting physically. Your stomach tightens with cramps, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

Anton notices immediately, his brow furrowing with concern. "Are you okay?"

You nod, but the tears in your eyes betray your true feelings. "I’m just so worried, Anton. What if she doesn’t get better?"

Anton wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "I know, love. But we’re doing everything we can. You need to stay calm for the baby’s sake."

You try to take a deep breath, but the cramps intensify, doubling you over in pain. Anton's worry deepens, and he gently guides you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Okay, we need to get you to relax. Let’s do some breathing exercises, alright?"

You nod again, but it’s hard to focus with the pain radiating through your abdomen. Anton sits beside you. "Look at me, love. Breathe with me. In... and out... nice and slow."

You follow his lead, struggling to match his calm, even breaths. The cramps are relentless, each one worse than the last. Panic starts to set in, and you clutch Anton’s hand tightly.

"It hurts so much," you whisper, tears streaming down your face.

Anton’s eyes are full of worry, but he keeps his voice calm. "I know, I know. Just keep breathing. You’ll be okay. I got you."

Minutes feel like hours as you fight to control your breathing, trying to push past the pain. Anton’s unwavering presence is the only thing keeping you grounded. His hand never leaves yours, and his words are a constant source of comfort.

"You’re strong," he murmurs. "Remember how strong you are. You can do this."

Slowly, agonizingly, the cramps begin to ease. Your breathing becomes more even, and the tears subside. Anton’s hand gently strokes your back, soothing you.

"That’s it, love. Just keep breathing."

Finally, the pain diminishes to a manageable level, and you collapse against Anton, utterly spent. He holds you close, his own relief palpable.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, his lips brushing your forehead.

You nod, still trembling. "I think so. It’s just... the stress of everything. It was too much."

"I know," he says, kissing your temple. "But you have to take care of yourself. Our baby needs you to be strong."

"I’m trying," you whisper, leaning into his embrace. "It’s just so hard."

"I know it is," Anton replies, his voice filled with love and concern. "But we’re in this together. We’ll get through it, one step at a time."

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more stable with Anton’s arms around you. "Thank you for being here for me."

"Always," he says, his eyes full of reassurance. "Now, let’s rest a bit. You need it."

You both lie down on the bed, and Anton keeps his arms wrapped around you, his presence a comforting anchor. As you lie there, the events of the day replay in your mind, but you push them aside, focusing on the steady rhythm of Anton’s breathing.

After a while, Anton speaks softly. "How about we call your doctor tomorrow, just to be safe?"

You nod, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "That sounds like a good idea."

After what feels like an eternity, you check the time. It’s been an hour. You exchange a glance with Anton, the decision unspoken but mutual. It’s time to take Yechan to the hospital.

You head back to the twins’ room, finding Yechan half-awake. She looks up at you with a mix of fear and resignation. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" you ask gently, but she doesn’t answer, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Anton checks her fever and finds it’s gotten even higher. He gently shakes her, but she can barely keep her eyes open.

"We need to go to the hospital now," Anton says, his voice firm yet calm. He picks up Yechan in his arms, carrying her bridal style, and races her to the car. You quickly get Chanmi out of bed, her little face crumpling with fear for her sister. Tears spill over as she clings to you.

"It’s okay, sweetie. We’re going to help Yechan get better," you say, trying to soothe her while moving as quickly as you can. You enter Chanwoo’s room and take him out of bed. He wakes up, crying from being pulled from his nap, not understanding what’s happening. You do your best to calm them both as you buckle them into their car seats.

Anton places Yechan in your lap in the back seat, and you hold her close, trying to keep her awake. "Stay with me, baby girl. We’re going to the hospital to make you feel better," you whisper, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

Anton drives with a steady urgency, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to check on you and Yechan. As he drives, he calls your parents, asking if they can meet you at the hospital to take Chanmi and Chanwoo.

"We’ll be there as soon as we can," your mom says, her voice filled with concern.

Yechan's breathing is shallow and rapid, and she’s barely responsive, which only heightens your fear. You stroke her cheek, murmuring comforting words, trying to keep your own panic at bay. The drive feels like an eternity, every second stretching out painfully.

Finally, you arrive at the hospital. Anton jumps out and rushes around to help you get Yechan out of the car. A nurse sees you and immediately brings a stretcher. Yechan is placed on it and rushed inside. You try to stay calm for Chanmi and Chanwoo, but the worry is etched deep into your features.

Your parents arrive just as the medical team wheels Yechan away. They quickly gather Chanmi and Chanwoo, who are both crying and frightened. "We’ll take care of them," your mom assures you, her eyes soft with understanding. "Focus on Yechan."

You give Chanmi and Chanwoo quick hugs, promising them that Yechan will be okay, and watch as your parents take them to get some food and comfort.

In the emergency bay, you finally allow yourself to cry. Anton pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as you sob against his chest. "She’s going to be okay," he whispers, his own voice thick with emotion. "They’ll take care of her."

You nod, clutching his shirt, trying to believe his words. "I should have noticed sooner, Anton. This is all my fault. I should have seen the signs."

"Hey, no," Anton says firmly, pulling back to look at you. "This is not your fault. You’ve been doing everything you can. Kids get sick, sometimes quickly, and there’s nothing you could have done to prevent it."

"But I’m their mother," you say, tears streaming down your face. "I should have known. I should have done more."

"Don’t do that. You’re an amazing mother," Anton says, his voice filled with conviction. "You’ve been taking care of all three of them, and now you’re taking care of Yechan. That’s what matters. We’re here now, doing everything we can."

You take a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. "I just feel so helpless."

"I know," he murmurs, kissing your forehead. "But she’s getting the help she needs, she’s going to be okay."

Time passes in a blur of anxiety and waiting. Anton never leaves your side. Finally, a doctor approaches, and you both stand up, your hearts pounding. "Mr. and Mrs. Lee?"

"Yes, that’s us," Anton replies, his arm still around you.

The doctor smiles reassuringly. "Yechan is stable now. She has a viral infection, which is causing the high fever and dehydration. We’re treating her with fluids and medication, and she’s responding well."

Tears of relief spill over as you cling to Anton. "Thank you. Can we see her?"

"Of course," the doctor says. "Follow me."

You and Anton follow the doctor to Yechan’s room. She’s lying in a hospital bed, looking small and fragile, but her breathing is steady, and she’s hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. You rush to her side, gently stroking her hair.

"Hey, sweetie," you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Mommy and Daddy are here."

Yechan’s eyes flutter open, and she looks at you with a weak but relieved smile. "Mommy... Daddy..."

Anton kneels beside the bed, taking her hand. "Hey, princess. You’re so brave. The doctors are taking good care of you."

You sit by her side, holding her other hand, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering fear. "We love you so much, Yechan. You’re going to be okay."

As Yechan drifts back to sleep, you lean against Anton, your heart finally starting to unclench. The weight of the morning begins to lift, though the anxiety still lingers. You take a deep breath and glance at Anton, who looks equally exhausted but relieved.

"It's hard to believe we're here," you say softly, breaking the silence. "The first time one of our kids has been hospitalized... I never imagined it would be this overwhelming."

Anton nods, his eyes filled with worry. "I know. Seeing her like this... it's my worst nightmare. I feel so helpless."

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. "But she's strong, remember? And so are we. Everything will be okay."

Just as the room falls into a comforting silence, Anton's phone buzzes loudly, shattering the moment. He fishes it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen. His expression immediately hardens. "It's my manager," he mutters before answering the call. "Hey, what’s going on?"

You watch as his face shifts from concern to anger. "What do you mean, there are articles about us? The kids?" His voice is low but fierce, barely containing his rage. "Are you serious?"

You can hear the faint sound of his manager's voice, rapid and urgent, but not the words. Anton's grip on your hand tightens, his knuckles white. "Do whatever you have to do to take those pictures and articles down," he says through gritted teeth. "I don't care what it takes. Just get it done."

He ends the call, taking a moment to compose himself. His eyes are dark with fury as he looks at you. "Dispatch got pictures of us leaving the house," he explains, his voice tense. "They're already posting articles about our family, speculating about our kids."

Your own anger flares up at his words. "Are you kidding me?" you exclaim, shaking your head in disbelief. "We're dealing with a sick child, and they have nothing better to do than write stupid think pieces about our family?"

Anton nods, his jaw clenched tight. "I can't believe this. We do everything we can to shield our kids from the public. And now this."

You can feel the heat of your anger rising, your frustration boiling over. "It's infuriating," you say, your voice shaking. "We’re just trying to take care of Yechan, and these vultures are sitting behind their screens, writing about things they know nothing about."

"I know," Anton says, his voice filled with a mixture of rage and despair. "We’ve worked so hard to protect them. They don’t deserve this."

You nod, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. "It's not fair," you say. "We shouldn't have to deal with this on top of everything else. Our children deserve to grow up without this kind of intrusion."

Anton sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I just hate that they’re dragged into this. They didn’t ask for any of it."

You place a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Anton, listen to me. This isn't your fault. You can't control your fame or your fans. What matters is that we’re here for our kids. They know they’re loved and protected, and that’s what counts."

He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch. "Thank you," he whispers. "For always being here, for always understanding."

His phone buzzes again, and he quickly checks the message. "The statement's been posted," he says. "They’re working on getting the pictures taken down."

You nod, still seething but feeling a bit of relief. "Good. It's all we can do right now."

Anton looks at you, his expression softening with guilt. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I feel like this is all my fault. If it weren't for my career, none of this would be happening."

You shake your head, pulling him into a tight hug. "It's not your fault, Anton. None of this is your fault. You didn’t post those pictures or write those stupid articles."

He hugs you back, his grip strong. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I just wish things were different."

Before you can respond, the door to Yechan's room opens, and the doctor walks in with a warm smile. "I have good news," he says. "Yechan is responding well to the treatment. She should be cleared to go home in a few hours."

Relief washes over you, and you feel Anton's body relax beside you. "Thank you, doctor," you say, your voice filled with gratitude.

She nods, giving Yechan a gentle pat on the head before leaving the room. You turn to Anton, a smile breaking through the exhaustion on your face. "She's going to be okay," you whisper.

Anton nods, his eyes shining with relief and love. "Yeah, she is," he agrees softly, pulling you close once more. "We’ll all be okay."

As you bask in the moment, the door opens again, and your parents walk in with Chanmi and Chanwoo in tow. Yechan stirs at the commotion, her eyes lighting up when she sees her siblings. "Chanmi! Chanwoo!" she exclaims, her voice still a bit weak but filled with joy.

"Yechan!" the two shout in unison, running to her bedside. "Can we sit with you?" Chanmi asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

Yechan nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, come up."

Anton gently lifts Chanmi and Chanwoo onto the bed, positioning them on either side of Yechan. Chanwoo grins and pushes out a small, brightly colored dino plushie he had been trying to hide behind his small back. "Grandpa bought one for all of us," he says, stumbling a bit over his words. "This one is yours, Yechan."

Yechan laughs, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Grandpa!" She takes the plushie and hugs it close. "It looks like daddy!" she giggles, pointing to the plushie's wide grin and height.

Chanmi and Chanwoo burst into giggles, making comparisons between the plushie and Anton. "It does!" Chanmi agrees, clapping her hands.

Chanmi then takes off the headband she had been wearing, one that she had insisted her grandmother buy for her. "Daddy, wear this," she says, holding it out to Anton.

Anton raises an eyebrow but smiles, taking the headband and placing it on his head. "How do I look?" he asks, striking a silly pose.

"You look pretty, Daddy!" Chanmi declares, and the room fills with laughter. Anton reaches out and starts tickling the kids, their giggles echoing around the room. Yechan joins in the laughter, the sound soothing.

You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with love. Absentmindedly, you begin to stroke your tummy, hidden beneath your hoodie. The warmth of the moment is almost enough to make you forget the chaos outside this room.

Your mom notices and cuts in with a gentle smile. "Anton is really good with the kids," she comments.

You stop stroking your stomach, reminded that you haven’t shared the news of the new baby with your families yet. "He really is," you agree, your voice filled with affection.

You turn to your parents. "The doctor said Yechan is cleared to go home in a few hours. You don't need to stay."

Your mom nods, giving you a warm hug. "I'll go home and make some food to drop off for you later," she says.

"Thank you, Mom," you say, returning the hug. "That would be wonderful."

Your dad gives you a tight hug too, and then you turn to the kids. "Say goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa," you instruct.

The kids pout, not wanting them to leave, but they obediently give hugs and kisses. "Bye, Grandma! Bye, Grandpa!" they chorus.

Once your parents have left, Chanwoo looks up at Anton with wide hopeful eyes that resemble his father. "Daddy, can we have ice cream now? You promised."

Anton chuckles, remembering his promise from breakfast. "I did promise, didn't I?"

Yechan sits up a bit, her eyes bright. "I want ice cream too!"

You hesitate, not sure if it’s a good idea. "We have to ask the doctor first, Yechan."

Heading to the nurses' station, you explain the situation. The nurse smiles kindly. "As long as she feels up to it and eats slowly, a small treat should be fine."

You thank her and head back to the room.

"We can have ice cream, but you need to eat it slowly, okay?"

The kids cheer, and you and Anton share a relieved smile. Anton calls down to the hospital cafeteria, arranging for three cups of ice cream to be brought up. While waiting, you sit back, watching Anton entertain the kids with stories and jokes.

"Remember the time we went to the zoo?" Anton starts, his voice animated. "And the monkey stole Mommy's headband?"

The kids burst into laughter, the memory clearly a favorite. "And Daddy chased the monkey!" Chanmi adds, giggling.

“And Daddy fall!" Chanwoo finishes, eyes wide with excitement.

You laugh along with them, feeling the day's stress slowly melting away. The ice cream arrives, and you help distribute the cups, making sure Yechan takes her time.

"Thank you, Mommy," she says, her voice soft but happy.

Your heart swells with emotion, and you kiss her forehead. "I'm so glad you're feeling better, sweetheart."

After the kids finish their ice cream, you and Anton clean them up, wiping sticky faces and hands. Anton then pulls out his phone, dialing his parents on FaceTime. "Let's call Grandma and Grandpa so they can see you," he says, positioning the phone so the kids are in view.

As the call connects, Anton's parents appear on the screen, their faces lighting up when they see the children. "Hi, my babies!" Anton's mom exclaims. "We've been so worried about you!"

"Hi, Grandma! Hi, Grandpa!" the kids chorus, waving excitedly.

Anton and you step back a bit, letting the kids have their moment. You can see the relief in Anton's parents' eyes, even through the screen. They had been texting Anton for updates after reading the articles, and now seeing their grandchildren safe and happy brings them comfort.

While the kids chat with their grandparents, the doctor re-enters the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Lee, can I speak with you outside for a moment?"

Your heart skips a beat, and you glance at Anton. He gives you a reassuring nod, and the two of you follow the doctor into the hallway. The doctor turns to face you, her expression serious but calm.

"We ran some additional blood tests on Yechan," she begins. "The results indicate that she's highly anemic. This anemia is likely the reason it took her longer to recover compared to Chanmi."

You feel a pang of worry, but the doctor continues quickly. "The good news is that this can be managed with iron supplements. I'll be referring Yechan to a hematologist for a consultation, but for now, I've prescribed antibiotics and iron pills. She should start feeling better soon with these treatments."

Anton wraps his arm around your shoulders, offering support. "Thank you, doctor," he says. "We appreciate you letting us know."

"Do you have any questions?" the doctor asks.

"Is this something that will affect her long-term?" you ask, your voice tinged with concern.

"It's manageable," the doctor reassures you. "With the right diet and supplements, Yechan should do just fine. The hematologist will provide more detailed guidance."

You and Anton nod, absorbing the information. "Thank you," Anton says again. "We'll make sure she follows through with everything."

The doctor smiles. "The nurse will be by soon with the discharge papers. If you have any further questions, feel free to ask."

You both thank her again and head back into the room. The kids have finished their call and are now playing a game on Anton's phone. Yechan looks up as you enter. "Grandma said she's coming to visit soon!"

Anton isn't shocked; he knows how much his mother adores the kids. "I'm not surprised," he says, smiling. "She loves you all very much."

You and Anton exchange a look, silently agreeing to discuss Yechan's diagnosis more in-depth once you're home. You don't want to alarm the kids any more than necessary.

Soon, a nurse arrives with the discharge papers for you to sign. She also brings stickers and candy for the kids, who eagerly thank her and start trading stickers while munching on their treats.

As the kids are occupied, you and Anton finalize the paperwork. Anton then heads down to the pharmacy to pick up the prescribed medications while you dress Yechan. She giggles as you help her into her clothes, clearly feeling better.

When Anton returns, he scoops Yechan into his arms and holds Chanmi's hand. You carry Chanwoo, who seems content after the long day. Anton doesn't comment on the arrangement; he knows it's well-deserved after what you've all been through.

You make your way to the car, the sky beginning to darken with clouds. Once everyone is buckled into their car seats, Anton starts the car, and you begin the drive home. As you pull out of the parking lot, raindrops start to splatter against the windshield.

"Can we bake cookies and watch movies when we get home?" Chanmi asks from the back seat, her voice filled with hopeful excitement.

You smile and turn to look at her. "Of course, sweetie. That sounds like a perfect idea."

The drive home is peaceful despite the rain, the rhythmic sound of droplets creating a soothing backdrop. You glance over at Anton, whose expression is a mix of relief and exhaustion. He catches your eye and gives you a small, tired smile.

When you arrive home, Anton carries Yechan inside, careful not to jostle her too much. You follow with Chanwoo in your arms, and Chanmi holding your hand. The house feels warm and welcoming after the sterile environment of the hospital.

"We're home," you announce softly, setting Chanwoo down.

"Bath time!" Anton declares, giving the kids a gentle nudge toward the bathroom.

"Do we have to?" Chanmi groans, her face scrunched up in mock dismay.

"Yes, we have to," you say firmly, though with a smile. "We need to wash off all the hospital germs."

Chanwoo perks up, tugging on your sleeve. "Can I have bubbles, Mommy?"

"Of course, sweetie," you reply, pinching his cheeks.

You and Anton guide the kids to the bathroom, where you fill the tub with warm water and plenty of bubbles. The kids' initial reluctance dissolves into giggles as they splash around. Anton kneels by the tub, gently washing Yechan's hair, while you scrub Chanmi and Chanwoo, making sure they're squeaky clean.

"Look at all the bubbles!" Chanmi exclaims, blowing a handful of foam toward Chanwoo, who laughs and tries to catch them.

Yechan smiles, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "This is fun," she says softly, enjoying the attention from her dad.

Once the bath is done, you wrap the kids in fluffy towels and help them into their pajamas. Chanwoo grabs his favorite blanket, clutching it tightly as he heads to the living room. 

"Alright, who's ready to bake some cookies?" you ask, clapping your hands together.

"Me! Me!" Chanmi and Chanwoo shout in unison, their earlier tiredness forgotten.

Anton settles Yechan on the couch with a pile of pillows. "You get to pick the movies we watch, okay?" he tells her, handing her the remote.

Yechan nods eagerly, scrolling through the options. "I want something funny," she decides.

"Good choice," Anton says, smiling as he sits next to her.

In the kitchen, you start mixing the cookie dough, with Chanmi and Chanwoo eagerly helping. Chanmi measures out the flour with precision, while Chanwoo enthusiastically stirs the bowl, occasionally sending flour puffing into the air.

"Careful, Chanwoo," you say, laughing as you gently guide his hand. "We want the flour in the bowl, not on the floor."

"Oops, sorry Mommy," Chanwoo giggles, his cheeks dusted with flour.

"No worries, baby boy," you reply, kissing the top of his head.

As you work, you can't help but glance into the living room, where Anton is making Yechan laugh. He's found a silly cartoon, and the sound of their shared laughter fills the house, blending with the kids' chatter in the kitchen.

Once the dough is ready, you help the kids scoop it onto baking sheets. Chanmi is meticulous, ensuring each cookie is just the right size, while Chanwoo plops haphazard mounds onto the tray, his excitement evident.

"Perfect," you say, sliding the trays into the oven. "Now we wait for them to bake."

You clean up the kitchen with Chanmi and Chanwoo's help, their spirits high. "Can I lick the spoon?" Chanwoo asks, his eyes wide with hope.

"Sure," you say, handing him the spoon covered in leftover dough. He happily licks it clean, and Chanmi takes the spatula, scraping off the remaining batter.

As the cookies bake, you set up a cozy spot in the living room with blankets and pillows. The smell of baking cookies fills the house, bringing a sense of normalcy and comfort.

Once the cookies are ready, you bring out a tray, and everyone settles in to watch a movie. Anton sits next to you, his arm around your shoulders. The kids snuggle up with their cookies, their laughter filling the room as the movie plays.

You lean into Anton, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "This is perfect," you whisper, glancing at your kids. Chanmi and Chanwoo are cuddled up next to Yechan, all of them engrossed in the movie.

Anton squeezes your hand. "It really is," he agrees, his voice full of love.

As the movie progresses, you can't help but think about the doctor's news earlier. You glance at Yechan, who is giggling at a particularly funny part of the movie, and your heart aches with both love and worry. You'll have to monitor her anemia closely, but knowing that you have a plan in place brings some comfort.

Your thoughts drift to the baby on the way. You place a gentle hand on your stomach, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with anxiety. There's so much to prepare for, but moments like this make it all worth it.

The movie eventually ends, and you start to usher the kids to bed. "Time for sleep, my loves," you say, guiding them to their rooms.

"But I want to stay up," Chanwoo protests, yawning despite his words.

"How about we read a story in bed?" you suggest, knowing it will help calm them down.

"Okay," Chanwoo agrees, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Alright, let's get you brushed up and ready for bed, Chanwoo," you say, leading him to the bathroom while Anton helps the twins.

"Can we brush our teeth together?" Chanmi asks, looking up at Anton.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Anton replies, smiling as he guides the twins to their bedroom.

You head to Chanwoo’s bathroom and carefully brush his teeth, making sure each little tooth is clean. Anton comes in soon after. "All done, buddy," you say, wiping his mouth. "Ready for your story?"

"Yes, Mommy!" Chanwoo says, his eyes lighting up.

You and Anton tuck Chanwoo into bed, and grab his favorite storybook. Anton sits on one side of the bed, and you sit on the other, each of you taking turns reading. Chanwoo listens intently, his eyes drooping as the story progresses. When you reach the end, he’s already fast asleep, his small chest rising and falling steadily.

"Sweet dreams, baby," Anton whispers, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead.

You both quietly exit Chanwoo's room and head to the bathroom where the twins are finishing brushing their teeth. "Ready for your story, girls?" you ask, and they nod eagerly, excitement still in their eyes despite their obvious fatigue.

You lead them to their room, tucking them in snugly. Anton picks out a story, and you both sit beside them, taking turns reading again. Yechan and Chanmi listen with wide eyes, occasionally giggling at the funny parts. By the time the story is over, they're barely keeping their eyes open.

"Goodnight, my sweet girls," you whisper, kissing their foreheads.

"Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy," they murmur sleepily.

You and Anton quietly leave their room, closing the door softly behind you. 

"Finally," Anton says with a sigh of relief, wrapping his arms around you. "That was a long day."

"It really was," you agree, leaning into him.

Anton nods, his eyes reflecting the same mixture of exhaustion and contentment that you feel. "Let's get some rest," he suggests, guiding you to your room.

As you lie in bed, you can't help but think about the doctor's news earlier. You glance at the ceiling, your mind racing with thoughts.

"Hey," Anton says softly, sensing your worry. "Everything will fall into place."

You turn to him, finding comfort in his steady gaze. "I know. It's just... a lot to take in."

He nods, understanding. "One step at a time, right?"

"Right," you agree, feeling a bit more at ease.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel grateful for Anton's support and the love that the two of you have crafted over the years. The sound of the rain pattering softly against the windows lulls you into a deep, restful sleep, your heart full of love.

[antoncyng]

౨ ( 이희승 ) ৎ — 𝐸𝒱𝐸𝑅𝒴 𝒮𝒰𝑀𝑀𝐸𝑅𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸

☆. : ,｡ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — a story where you look for heeseung in every sunset of the summer, until he’s finally yours. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 . lee heeseung x f!reader 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 / 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬). crushing, est. relationship, fluff, kissing. 𝐰𝐜. 0.5k

💌 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾 — special birthday comeback surprise for my baby @ourhees ( ◠‿◠ ) you’re finally 18!! after my hiatus, i’m making a little comeback gift for you :33 i hope you enjoy!!

the orange yellowish light shining through your sheer curtains, the beautiful ocean waves visible from your bedroom’s window. sunsets like these remind you of the summer a year prior, hands held as you walked along the beach.

“you know this can’t be forever, right?” heeseung speaks up, your heart clenching at the reminder as you nod. “i know, but i want to treasure the moment while i can.” he nods, knowing his heart is reaching out for you too.

heeseung was always traveling, every summer his family would come back to your town to meet up, giving you little time to yourselves as your family spent time together, today was his last day of his travels, but the first day he realized his feelings for you were true.

“why can’t you ask your parents to stay a little longer? i hate thinking that you’ll forget me everytime you leave again..” you say, hurt in your voice as he packs up his things from your room, dropping his bag and walking over to you, cupping your face in his hands. “i could never forget you so quickly, angel. you know my parents are busy with work, that’s why i even have time to come out here. we’ll meet again next summer, i promise you.”

he always says that, the same every year since you were kids. looking into your eyes lovingly with his pupils widened, knowing you couldn’t stay mad at him as he held his pinky out, waiting for you to interlock yours. “you better be back quick..” you mumbled, crossing your pinky into his, his grin growing on his face while he nods.

it was finally summer, sitting by your window as you watched the waves rise and fall over the sand, the sun setting beautifully as it always does. ‘was heeseung coming back this year? what will he look like now?’ was all you could think of.

knocking at the door, your parents already excited to get it as you almost sprinted downstairs, seeing heeseung’s smile as he stood at the door, waiting for a hug from you.

nuzzling his face into your hair, he held you closely by your waist, holding you as if you could disintegrate any second now. he pulls away from the hug, still holding you close in your arms. “i’m staying, i’m staying for good” he announces, grinning at the shock on your face.

“so i’m taking this chance now while i’ll be staying for good.. yn, can i take the honor of being your boyfriend?” he asks with a nervous smile, his hands rested on your waist as you nod your head eagerly, cupping his face and kissing him gently and lovingly.

now, you didn’t have to wait for every summertime.

💌. �� 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾 ; heheh i hope you enjoyed this one savvy :33 this is officially my comeback post it might be kinda bad bc it was very rushed but its okay HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAV i love u so dearly have an amazing birthday hehehee ( also.. kinda new layout what do we think heh)

tags ( @ourhees @flwrstqr @cupidhoons ) idk who else to tag tbh

[sluttyminghao]

Woozi reaction to you acting needy/bratty/touching yourself behind the laptop while he was on live (also can I claim uji anon ?)

he probably is just scrolling through some comments while he's live, talking to fans and whatnot, coming across the occasional weird sentence or sentence fragment. there's a few that catch his eye, and he knows exactly who they're from.

you.

it's things only you and him would know; what colour underwear he's wearing at that moment, what his next hair colour is going to be for the groups upcoming comeback etc., he starts growing more suspicious when he starts addressing the comments and then finding you retaliating in the comments.

he texts you secretly, asks what the hell you're doing and you only reply back with a smiling emoji, seemingly acting innocent. that only pisses him off more and prompts him to end his live early, and video call you instead.

"what the hell is your problem? acting like a brat in the comments where everyone can see, should punish you for that." the smile on your face only grows wider and you can tell he's more pissed off than he's ever been, immediately cutting the call.

youre not sure whats going to happen next, but within a few moments jihoon is bursting through your apartment door, chucking his car keys on the table and walking over to you. he doesn't say a word as he basically rips your clothes off your body, exposing you to his lust filled eyes.

"so you wanna be bratty huh? guess I need to fuck the brattiness right out of that pretty head of yours, is that right sweetheart?" he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he lines his cock up with you and slides himself in, surprised at how easily he got inside.

his eyebrow cocks at this information, and he glances at you quickly, the realization that you probably touched yourself while he was on live hitting him like a ton of bricks. he groans as he feels your walls contract, before he's starting a pace that blows your breath away.

"dont be a fucking brat."

[theboytatu]

2023 EXO WRAPPED

newton's 4th law states that for every "it's so over" there's an equally opposite "we are so back" so taking that into account i present to you the 2023 EXO WRAPPED so we can take a look at how truly insane EXO's career was this year

so we started out the year on a positive note. baekhyun was about to come back from the military - every other member was available, and the rumors of an EXO comeback were growing stronger. things were looking UP!

sadly - our first "it's so over" comes into play a mere month into the year, when news broke that lee sooman was being ousted from SM after a hostile board takeover resulted in him reaching out to hybe to get enough juice to fend off the witch hunt

no one knew what the fuck was going on - every idol in that company was sending out coded messages begging for help and all the scheduled comebacks got delayed, half assed or canceled. thankfully the succession plot got discarded quickly and hybe dropped out from the race, resulting in kakao investing in SM as major shareholder and lee sooman officially leaving the company.

after a few months of uncertainty EXO were finally reunited for their anniversary fanmeeting - we are so back!!! this was the first time the 8 members were together on stage since 2018 so of course everybody was losing their shit. and then we got confirmation that the comeback was finally happening.

this was it. it was happening. the FIRST full group comeback IN FIVE YEARS... we had confirmation, so they couldn't take it back - right? RIGHT??? except.... the weeks kept passing and as time went on we knew nothing else about the comeback. the members were radio silent and SM was still getting their shit together from the hostile takeover. both EXO and shinee's comebacks got delayed (among others) and no one knew what was supposed to happen. every day we got another news article about the EXO comeback but the EXO in question was nowhere to be seen - the full spectrum of the exol experience:

what happened next constitutes what experts have called the biggest "it's so fucking over" in recorded history so you better buckle up....

the comeback was first confirmed on social media by numerous music producers who were often seen working with EXO. SM was still radio silent but we KNEW the album was being made at the very least. expectations were building up and the members were seen practicing together in the SM building.... and then.

kai got notified that he had to enlist WITH ONE WEEK'S NOTICE.... the comeback wasn't even done shooting. kai was dying his hair a different color everyday to cram an album's worth of content in a couple of days. in hindsight this was truly our biggest L of the year

and then SM lied about how the military had suddenly changed the rules of enlistment so they didn't know kai had to go. AN ACTUAL MILITARY OFFICIAL had to go on the record to disprove this and it turns out SM had lied because they fucked up kai's paperwork and he couldn't defer any more. just your average SM fuck up

anyway. we'd facen worse right? an exo member enlisting has never been a problem to release a comeback - so after sending kai off to his bootcamp the rest of exo went right back to business. that album wasn't gonna record itself.....

and then on june 1st the second airplane hit the exo towers.

the amount of articles and updates we got every hour from different parties was insane. no one knew what the fuck was happening and SM was busy fighting this PR nightmare with a smear campaign against CBX and by association the rest of EXO

exoplanet was on fire but we had a silver lining: SM stock was plummeting to an all time low. it looked like EXO freedom was on the horizon, but in a classic EXO move the members had ghosted us. no one had heard from them except for legal statements from their lawyers - but hey at least SM was a dumpsterfire!

mind you the comeback hadn't even been announced.... at this point we assumed that was the least of their worries and then word got out that the members had been trying to film the MV in the middle of the lawsuit and SM hadn't allowed CBX entry to the set... which was later disproved but no one even questioned that cause it's literally something SM would do

and then in what constitutes the single most bizarre album rollout in kpop the comeback was officially announced - with two prerelease songs and three MVs! and three members in a legal battle! sounds very 2014 right? well exols didn't give a shit, and then we got our next we are sooo back. the hype was THERE

after a lot of 📈📉📈📉 the lawsuit against SM was settled and CBX decided to remain in the company for the sake of the group, and the songs they prereleased were actually good so it was safe to say exoplanet was on their WE ARE SOOOO BACK era.... but SM wouldn't let us have it so easy so of course this happened immediately after

they started cancelling albums and understocking distributors but nevertheless... WE PERSISTED. the album was finally released and once again EXO, true to their title of the cockroaches of kpop, managed to break several records despite SM sabotaging them left and right. they had ONE music show win and THREE streams but it didn't matter. EXO was back.

after their comeback promotions lasted a whopping SEVEN days and then dipped from the face of the earth exoplanet was finally looking back to normal

baekhyun drunk texted fans on bubble and held live spaces on twitter where he fell asleep and snored in front of 30 thousand people. kyungsoo dropped a mini album that had been recorded and ready to go for over a year and then rumors of someone leaving SM started circulating on korean foums again. exols were busy counting down the days to sehun finally hauling his ass to the military and every time EXO SC had a fanmeeting we were sure he was going to leave. and THEN....

surprising absolutely no one, kyungsoo didn't renew his contract with SM and left amicably in mid october. suho sent this bubble the same day the news came out btw

we were back in our it's so over era which at this point for EXO and exols it's closer to our we are so back era.... it's kinda hard to keep up but at least nothing else was gonna happen. it was already november, the end of the year was coming and no one expected anything else in exoplanet for at least 6 to 8 months. this is already longer than exo's career so i'll just wrap it up in a second part!!

[calmcoldevening]

Hellow! I just comeback to tumblr after a long time away from this magic space and i wish (and request if is possible 👉🏻👈🏻) if you can write a one shot where the reader was adopted after Charlie finished a family, she was a baby then and grow up as a Hewitt basically so Thomas is her “step brother” but when they grow and they start doing the “family business 🔪 “ they protect each other, he protects her physically and she protects him emotionally also she finish some girls who make fun of Thomas, basically they found that both have feelings for each other…hope i didn’t ask a mess 🥺 by the way, i love your content 🖤

Omg, thank you so much, really ♡⁠ And I like your idea, so I hope you will like it))

Thomas Hewitt x reader

Tw: mention on murders, cannibalism, a little hurt/comfort, reader and Thomas are not the real siblings, jealousy

Almost no one remembers how you got into this family anymore. At one point, Hoyt just carried you in his arms, frowning at Luda. The woman carefully picked you up in her arms, your big curious eyes looked around the room and the people present with interest. Surprisingly, you weren't scared, even though you didn't understand where you were. People were talking loudly, but you didn't understand any of it.

But it only took a couple of minutes, and a strange man appeared in your field of vision. Kid. He was a boy of about five with long black hair, and his face was covered in bandages in some places. The woman said something to him, and the boy awkwardly approached you, looking at your little body with curiosity and some fear. You smiled almost reflexively and held out your hands to him. The woman grinned and gently laid you down in the boy's arms. You curled up blissfully on his chest, closing your eyes and relaxing. The boy started rocking you. It was so nice and warm. You fell asleep almost immediately.

Thomas. That was the boy's name. Thomas Hewitt, your older brother Tommy. He has always been kind and gentle towards you. Of course, your whole family was good, even if it was peculiar, but still Tommy seemed the most dear to you. It has always been so.

The boy was constantly protecting you. At home or in the outside, it doesn't matter, Thomas always tried to be with you, like your personal guardian angel.

As the years passed, Thomas was already in school. You were about four years old when you started noticing something was wrong. Tommy came home from school, and his body was covered with a lot of bruises, dried blood was visible on the bandages. It happened a lot. But when you tried to ask Thomas about it, he was silent, turning away from you.

Your childish mind was still unable to make up a whole picture of such situations.

So the only thing that came to your mind was to cheer Tommy up. He was sitting on the bed when you entered the room. Awkwardly walking with your little legs, you came closer to him, smiling. Without thinking twice, you climbed onto the bed next to him. Taking one of his hands, you began to glue small patches on his wounds.

"It hurts, brother?" you ask softly, looking up at Thomas. The guy can't help but smile. He gently runs his free hand through your hair, and shakes his head negatively. You giggle contentedly and put your arms around his neck, climbing into the boy's lap. Thomas hugs you back tenderly, and in those warm hugs you feel like your brother is protecting you from the whole world.

Already in the middle of school, Thomas started working with Charlie at the slaughterhouse, but you just stayed at home after graduation. By nature, you were a child who was much weaker than Thomas, even though you were very smart and cunning. Besides, Luda didn't want you to see all these horrors of murder from such an early age. You didn't resist her views.

After all, after school you worked at one of the grocery stores in the city. Even if they didn't pay that much because of your age and the fact that it was your unofficial job, it was already something. Therefore, every day you brought home either money or food immediately, which Luda was immensely happy about. Unlike Tommy, you grew up to be quite an active and curious child, you were often the first to take the initiative in various matters. Therefore, at the age of ten you were quite good at helping People around the house, and at fifteen you were already fully cooking. You didn't particularly like the fact that Luda spends almost all her time doing household chores, so you tried to give her as much rest as possible. She was very happy to have such a child.

As the years passed, the city emptied as time passed. The closure of the slaughterhouse has greatly affected the peaceful course of life in the city. After a while, only your Hewitt family remained in the city. It's not that you love other people, it's just that you were sorry that the usual way of life was changing. But as long as you're with your family, you don't care about other people.

Due to the fact that there was not much food in the city, and it was not possible to travel outside it often, gradually you did not have enough food. You just accepted it, and you didn't ask any questions.

Until one day Charlie gave some strange speech.

You could feel the tension in the air when you all gathered at the table. It was a little awkward. The room was dark, with only a small chandelier above the table being the only source of pale yellow light. As usual, you folded your hands on your chest in prayer before eating, when Charlie said a prayer to God. No, not Charlie, Hoyt. Your eyes were darting around the room. You saw the tense shoulders of the Woman and the way her forehead wrinkled because of the eyebrows drawn together. Hoyt wasn't as tense, and yet there was some excitement in his voice. Uncle Monty was no different from his usual self, he just kept quiet.

Eating people. It was.. strange. Wrong. How could Hoyt say that in order to survive, you have to eat people? And this strange soup with rather tough meat.

You looked at Tommy. He was sitting next to you, his huge figure only added some kind of horror to the atmosphere of the room. And yet, under the table, he took your little hand in his big palm, squeezing it in comfort. You understood that it was necessary. If Tommy said it was necessary, then you will obey. You nodded curtly and started eating.

Gradually you got used to the new way of life. You spent whole days helping People around the house or at her gas station store, and in the evening you spent time with Tommy. You are used to strange strangers appearing in your house several times a week, and new meat appears on the table that evening. You no longer paid attention to the screams or the blood, you lived as usual. The only thing you didn't like was that Tommy was now more tired and exhausted by the end of the day. After working with meat for a long time, he would come to your room, you would sit on the bed. He would climb onto your bed and put his head on your hips, seeking comfort. You began to gently stroke his tangled black hair. He closed his eyes with a smile. Your hands gently find the clasp of the mask on the back of his head. Thomas reflexively tenses up at first, but immediately lets you take off the mask. He looks up at you and you smile, caressing his cheeks with your hands. Every time such a sight made a pleasant warm feeling appear in your chest, you wanted to see this smile more often. After a long hug, you fell asleep on the same bed, cuddling up to each other.

Such a life has become commonplace. And although you tried to be indifferent to all the victims who come to this house, in the end, they will all end up being your dinner, you couldn't ignore how these pathetic bastards treated Tommy. Especially those screaming and crying girls.

Thomas was sharpening a knife in his basement when you went down there and saw a girl tied to a table. Her makeup was smeared, and her face was red and swollen from crying and screaming. She was obviously pretty tired already. And yet, the girl continued to try to pull out, shouting some obscenities. She probably already realizes that she is doomed. And yet, her body is still filled with animal fear. You walk down the stairs, your arms folded across your chest. Thomas is not paying attention to you, he is completely focused on his work. And from there he stands over the bound girl. His palm slowly slides over her trembling stomach, breasts, and finally stops on her face, caressing her cheeks. Your heart strangely, almost painfully contracts at the sight of this scene. The girl wriggles and cries, calling Thomas a freak and a brainless animal. You can't see his face, but you can feel him frowning. In an instant, he raises his hand with a cleaver over the girl and forcefully drives it into the girl's body, cutting her fragile neck with an unpleasant crunch. She gurgles, choking on her own blood. You slowly approach Thomas, hugging him from behind. Your hands are clutching the fabric of his shirt under his apron.

"She's lying, Tommy. She's just stupid. You are not an animal, you are the most wonderful man in the world," you whisper and feel him relax under your embrace. He throws the cleaver on the floor. The man turns to face you and wraps you in a tight hug, burying his nose in your hair. He's always been soothed by your scent.

You were really annoyed by these rude victims of the girl. That's why you often began to deal with them yourself. Something inside you rejoiced when you silenced their vile mouth.

You were in the kitchen, as usual, making an apple pie. Humming something to yourself, you moved around the kitchen in a relaxed way, enjoying the cooking process. Suddenly, you heard the faint crackle of the stairs leading to the basement. The third step from below was flimsy and always creaked. But under Tommy's weight, it was a more distinct sound. Now the sound was almost inaudible, as if someone was sneaking around, trying not to attract attention. When you turned around, you saw a fragile girl covered in blood. Her right hand looked like a bloody mess, so she held it with her good hand. Was it Tommy's toy? A strange anger has boiled up inside you. You grabbed the knife you were using to cut apples. It was a sharp knife that Hoyt sharpened for you not so long ago. Slowly approaching the girl from behind, you abruptly wrapped your arms around her, exposing the blade with the tip to her stomach. The girl was filled with an almost animal panic and she reflexively rushed forward, trying to escape from your grip. She made it worse for herself. Her flesh was instantly pierced by a sharp blade. You felt her body convulsing, and cherry blood instantly stained your hands. The knife went into her stomach almost to the hilt when she went limp in your hands. Hoyt would probably scold you for spoiling the meat right now. But you don't care. It felt so light and pleasant when you finished off this girl who called Thomas names not so long ago when he dealt with her friends. No one dared to call your boy that, absolutely no one.

But it wasn't any easier for Thomas.

He saw all those sidelong glances from the victims, all those lascivious smiles in your direction. It annoyed him so much. Thomas killed such victims with particular cruelty. You were his gentle and innocent flower, who had been kind to him since childhood. Thomas cherished you. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to you. Your soft hair, sweet smell and sweet smile. All of this made his heart flutter. But in those moments when the escaped victims tried to take you with them, his chest was filled with a feeling of anger and hatred. No one will dare to take away his flower, his ray of light in this dark life.

But there was something strange about it, something he couldn't explain. When the victims tried to flirt with you, unaware of the danger, or when they touched you unobtrusively, his blood boiled. There was something else besides the desire to protect. Mine. Mine. MINE. The voice kept repeating in his head when some guy at the gas station tried to hug you. That same night, he cut off his limbs. There was something else besides his brother's affection. It wasn't right, was it? But all your smiles, touches, and tenderness made Thomas want you for himself alone. He wanted to hold you close and show you in every way that he loves you. He loves me very much. Will you understand him? Or do you only see him as a brother? Thomas knows, he clearly remembers the day when Charlie brought your baby to this house. Even then, Thomas swore with his heart that he would protect and take care of you. You're not his blood sister, so maybe...? Will you love such a freak? After all, all the victims talked about him that way. A freak, an animal, a monster. Do you see him differently? He doesn't want to scare you or disgust you, no. He wants to love you. He wants you for himself.

It was a surprisingly rainy day. You were sitting on the porch, hugging your knees. The rain was pounding on the roof of the house, and there was a strong smell of humidity and wet dust in the air. There wasn't a soul around. There haven't been any new victims in the last few days, so you could definitely rest. Luda, along with Hoyt and Monty, went to a nearby town to check on someone from relatives, so you and Thomas were alone. Quiet and peaceful.

A man was watching you through the open front door. Your gentle image warmed his heart in a pleasant way. Maybe...?

You heard heavy footsteps approaching, and your body almost reflexively relaxed. A warm blanket was placed on your shoulders, and Thomas himself sat on the porch next to you. Even sitting down, he was much taller than you. Thomas stared ahead for a long time, watching the chaotic raindrops. His dark hair was even more curly from the humidity. Finally, he turned to face you, looking down at you. His blue eyes bored into your face for a long time. Finally, he took your hands in his, squeezing them gently. His rough thumbs massaged your hand skin in gentle circles, he frowned a little, obviously thinking about something.

Then he dropped one of your hands. The man pointed at himself. Then he put his hand to his lips, kissing her, and brought his hand to his heart. Then he pointed his finger at you.

I. Love. You.

Your cheeks instantly flushed when you looked down. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest, echoing in your ears. Did he have the same feelings for you? Or did you get it all wrong? But you are a family..

"I love you too, big brother," you say in the most innocent way, looking at the wet wooden boards of the porch.

Thomas frowns and grabs your face with his free hand, forcing you to look at him. You look up, meeting his eyes. The man's blue eyes are filled with longing and a strange warmth. He shooks his head.

You feel overwhelmed by emotions. How have you always been able to communicate so clearly, even without words? Some kind of pleasant tender feeling blossoms in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and burying your nose in his shoulder. The smell of metal and dust mixed with the sweet natural scent of his body. The smell that always calmed you down. Thomas hugs you back, stroking your back with his big hand.

A little later, you pull away. You have a strange strong desire, his lips look full and beautiful to you. Leaning forward, you gently kiss him through the mask, he responds. Your kiss is wet and clumsy, but filled to the brim with feelings. Thomas squeezes you tightly in his arms, wanting to shut you off from the rest of the world. You are his, his and only his. You may not be his sibling, but you are his family.

[thegettingbyp2]

It's Really Happening

Summary: Elvis comes back home to you after meeting about the Comeback Special and celebrates with you

When Elvis came bursting through the front doors to Graceland, you were pretty sure that you hadn’t seen him looking so happy in a long time. He seemed lighter and the excited glint that you saw in his eyes when they found you told you that something had just gone very well in his meeting.

‘There she is,’ he said, making his way over to where you were curled up on the long sofa, reading a book. He sat down next to you, pulled the book from your hands, making sure to set it on the coffee table and gathered your face in both of his hands to kiss you.

‘You seem happy,’ you said when he pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a big grin on his face. ‘It’s nice to see you like this again,’ you added softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling when he turned his head to place a kiss on the inside of your palm.

‘I am happy, baby,’ he replied, speaking in a low tone even though it was just the two of you in the room. ‘I’m coming back.’

‘What do you mean?’ you asked, your brows furrowing ever so slightly, the smile still playing on your lips.

‘I’ve just been and had a meeting with these two guys who are going to let me record a TV special but it’s not going to be like this Christmas thing the Colonel wants me to do. These guys are going to let me sing my old stuff, gospel, anything I want!’ he explained, his grin growing as he spoke.

‘That sounds amazing!’ you exclaimed, finding his excitement infectious. ‘How did you get the Colonel to sign off of it?’

‘He doesn’t know, I think it might be time to call it quits with him. If these guys are going to actually let me do what I want, I need to work with them.’ You watched as Elvis lowered his eyes to where both of your hands were intertwined in his lap and you knew that he was feeling guilty for thinking of leaving the Colonel when he was the one who had been with him for pretty much his whole career.

‘It’s probably for the best, baby,’ you agreed, never having liked the Colonel in the first place.

‘It’s really happening, baby,’ Elvis said, his eyes focused on you, ‘everything’s going to get back on track and I can stop doing those stupid films. Everything’s gonna be good again.’

‘Hey, I like those films,’ you protested, causing Elvis to yank you into him until he had you straddling his lap, your hands resting on his shoulders before sliding down to his chest, making him hum happily.

‘You have to say that,’ he murmured, his eyes trained on your lips.

‘I really don’t,’ you replied before closing the gap between your lips. Elvis’ arms tightened around you as your lips parted against his, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Elvis hummed happily against your lips and he let one of his hands drop down to your thigh, squeezing softly underneath the fabric of your skirt.

‘I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you, you know,’ Elvis murmured against your lips, smiling against you.

‘Yes, you would,’ you disagreed, pulling back and running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly which made Elvis groan quietly and buck his hips into you, making you bounce in his lap.

‘It wouldn’t be as fun, though,’ he replied cheekily before sliding his hand to the apex of your thighs, his eyes darting up to meet yours when he realised that you weren’t wearing any panties. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows at you as a smirk grew on his lips.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat as you buried your head in his neck, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of your boyfriend. ‘Wanted you,’ you mumbled into his neck.

‘Yeah? You gonna ride me, pretty girl,’ he asked, pulling your head out of his neck to rest his forehead against yours. You nodded quickly, making Elvis grin at you before he lifted your skirt around your waist and slid a finger into you.

Elvis’ arm wrapped tightly around your waist as your hips began to buck against him while he thrusted his finger into you, his thumb coming up to rest on your clit, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your arms draped over his shoulders, holding yourself close to him and breathing him in while you tried to move against the vice-like grip he had on your waist.

His finger moved slowly, keeping you on the edge of your orgasm as he listened to your whimpers and whines, smiling to himself at the knowledge that only he could pull these sounds from your lips. Pulling his finger out of you, he quickly undid his belt and pushed his trousers down just enough to free his cock, chuckling when he felt your body jolt as the tip of his cock, hit your clit.

You pulled yourself up onto your knees, still straddling his lap as he lined his cock at your entrance before helping you slide back down until you were seated in his lap once again. ‘You take me so well, baby,’ Elvis muttered when he felt you clench around him as you tried to adjust to his size.

When you began to grow impatient you lifted yourself up a couple of inches before letting yourself slide back down, pulling moans from both of you as you started up a rhythm of bouncing up and down in his lap, Elvis’ hands resting on your waist guiding your movements.

Due to him keeping you on edge, you found yourself hovering over your orgasm in no time and your whines and the way your fingers clenched on his shoulders told him as such. ‘You close, baby?’ he asked, smirking at you, knowing that you were.

You couldn’t speak so you replied only with a broken moan and a shaky nod, feeling your legs begin to give out from where you’d been bouncing on him. Elvis was quick to wrap an arm around your waist and slide his other hand up your back, keeping you steady as he planted his feet on the floor and began to thrust up into you.

From his angle he was continuously hitting that spot inside you that had you seeing stars and the only word you could utter was Elvis’ name as you let yourself tip over the edge, trusting that Elvis had you. While you were still floating in your post-orgasm haze, you felt Elvis thrust into you three more times before stilling, his forehead resting on your shoulder as you felt him fill you up.

You both stayed in the same positions for a few moments before Elvis lifted his head up to look at you, a hazy smile on his lips. ‘You okay, Satnin?’ he asked softly, moving one of his hands to your cheek, pulling you in to drop a soft kiss on lips.

‘Of course I am,’ you replied, looking at him fondly. ‘And I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be amazing in your special.’

‘Thank you, baby,’ he said, pulling your arms back around his neck and kissing you deeply.

[murrpa]

heart wrecking angst⇩

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In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.

Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!

All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.

Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.

Logan: Wade?

Wade: Yeah?

Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.

Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?

Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.

Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.

His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?

Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.

No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.

He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.

Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.

Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.

Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.

But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.

Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…

Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.

Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.

But Wade protests.

Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.

He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.

Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.

Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.

Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.

Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.

Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.

(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)

[yxngbxkkie]

too hot (hyung line)

i've never played this game, but i would like to play with them. it'd be interesting for sure 🤭 anyway, i hope you enjoy this steamy lil thing 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 💓

bang chan

"Are we really going to play this?" Chan asks as the two of you sit on your king-sized bed.

You smirk at him, placing your hands behind your back. "Worried you'll lose?" You question instead.

He stares at you for a moment, noticing his tongue poke against his cheek. Chan says nothing else as he quickly seats himself in front of you.

"Love you," you whisper to him before connecting your lips with his.

You both let out a moan, and Chan kisses you back. You clench your hands behind your back, resisting the urge to touch him. Chan slips his tongue past your lips, tangling itself with yours.

Another moan escapes you, internally cursing at yourself. How can I be this weak?! You think while pulling away from him. Both of you are breathing heavily, and you avoid his gaze.

"Why aren't you looking at me, pretty?" Chan asks in a seductive tone, dipping his head down to catch your eyes. "Worried you'll lose?"

You lift your head when he uses your words against you. You squint your eyes, giving him a playful glare. "I won't lose," you mutter loud enough for him to hear.

Chan doesn't get the chance to respond when your lips find his again. You instantly deepen the kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip. Chan moans into the kiss and wiggles in his spot.

You move the kiss down his jaw, and a curse leaves your boyfriend's lips left and right. "This is cheating," he grumbles, trying his best to kiss you again.

"I'm not touching you," you say against his neck, smirking a bit. "And, I'm still kissing you."

He hums and swiftly leans back, readjusting to kiss your lips. Chan bites your lips before slipping his tongue back into your mouth. Your heart flutters in your chest, and the amount of intimacy you're receiving starts to throw you off.

The past couple of weeks, Chan's been extremely busy with the company, with their upcoming comeback around the corner. It's actually the first time the two of you have been able to see each other.

Your urge to touch him grows more and more, finding yourself starved of his love. You shift your legs so you're kneeling instead, kissing him feverishly.

"I've missed your lips, pretty," Chan whispers into the kiss, pulling back for a quick second.

You nod your head as you kiss him again, instinctively bringing your hands to his cheeks. Chan giggles as you cave much earlier than he thought you would. He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, gently tugging your hair back.

"Baby…" you trail off, your eyes fluttering shut as you lightly moan. Chan presses a couple of sloppy kisses on your neck before completely pulling away.

"You lost, pretty."

You groan and rest your forehead against his shoulder. "Don't remind me," you mutter as Chan moves you to sit on his lap. "I realized we haven't been intimate in two weeks, and I couldn't stop myself."

He gives you a pout, and he taps his thumb on your bottom lip. "I'm sorry I've been so busy. I worked extra hard to get these next three days off," Chan explains with a smile, his dimples indenting in his cheeks.

"I love you so much," you tell him, smiling softly.

"I love you too, pretty," he whispers. His hands slide around your waist, and he rests them on the tops of your ass cheeks. "Are you ready to do anything for me?"

You chuckle and bite your lips. "I'm always ready to do anything for you, Channie," you seductively tell him, leaning forward to nudge your nose with his.

He almost growls as he tightens his grip on you, swiftly flipping the two of you over. A gasp leaves your lips as your back is pressed against the mattress. "I want you to lay here," Chan says against your skin, his lips trailing down the valley of your breasts, "and let me show you how much I love you, mkay?"

A shudder runs down your spine, his dark eyes looking at you through his lashes. You nod your head in answer, not trusting your voice.

"Words, pretty. I need to hear you say it," he grins, his free hand pushing your tank top upwards.

"Y-Yes," you stutter as one of your hands grip his forearm. "Please."

Chan smiles at you while pushing the top over your chest, exposing your breasts. "Oh, I like when you beg for me. So pretty," he teases before taking a nipple into his mouth.

lee minho

Minho pulls you into the bedroom before seating you on the floor. You sit down with a confused look on your face, watching as he goes to close the door.

"Baby, what are we doing?" You ask in laughter. Minho sits down across from you, placing his hands in his lap.

"I want to play too hot with you," he says nonchalantly, leaning his body forward slightly.

Your eyes widen at his idea. "I - This is embarrassing, but what is that?" You question him with flushed cheeks.

"No fucking way," Minho mumbles while straightening his posture. "You've never played it before?"

"Baby," you whine, shoving your face into your hands. "You were my first kiss. I'm clearly not cultured."

Minho laughs before grabbing your face, lifting your chin. "Then let me teach you, sweetness," he whispers, kissing your lips after.

You bring your hands to his thighs, slipping your fingers underneath his shorts. When he pulls away from you, you chase after him with a small whine.

"So, the premise of too hot is to kiss one another," he begins to explain, kissing your lips once again. You hum in delight, liking the sound of it. Minho gently grabs a hold of your hands, removing them from his body. "But, we're not allowed to touch."

You abruptly pull back, pouting at him. "No touching?!" You ask him, grabbing the hem of your zip up sweater. "You know I like touching."

He smirks while you continue to complain and squirm in your spot. "That's the fun of it, sweetness. Both of us will be riled up, and then whoever loses will do whatever the winner wants," Minho explains the rest of the game.

You look into his eyes before leaning in to kiss him. You move your hands behind your back and lace your fingers together. He hums into the kiss and pulls back for a few seconds.

"Stop pulling away from me," you whisper, reconnecting your lips.

Minho giggles and deepens the kiss. Both of you lean into one another as his tongue glides along your bottom lip. You let him past your lips, his tongue fighting with yours.

"Fuck," he groans after breaking the kiss. Heavy breaths leave both of your lips, feeling yourself becoming aroused. Minho bites your lip while keeping his eyes on you.

"Can I kiss other places?" You ask him curiously, placing a few kisses on his jawline.

"As long as you're kissing me, it counts," he sighs, rolling his eyes back a bit.

You mumble incoherently as your kisses grow sloppy. You kiss beneath his ear, a place you know he loves. "Sweetness," Minho moans into your ear, causing your heart to flutter.

You pull back to look in his eyes, seeing the cloud of lust in them. They drift down to your lips, and he leans forward to kiss you. His lips travel down your neck quickly, feeling his teeth nip at you every few seconds.

"Fuck, this game is crazy," you moan out, tilting your head to give Minho more room.

"End it for me," he says against the column of your neck.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "Never," you breathlessly mutter.

Minho leans forward more, causing you to fall onto your back. His hands rest on either side of your head, his lips finding their way back to yours. You can hear his fingers dig into the carpet, knowing he won't be able to resist much longer.

You lean up, slipping your tongue past his lips. It quickly turns into a steamy makeout session as Minho slides his hand underneath your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You smirk into the kiss, and you pull back. "I won," you simply say, grinning widely.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," he mutters before kissing you once more.

Giggles escape your lips, and you lift your hips, removing your hands from behind your back. Your hands find their way into his hair, combing through it gently.

"I don't have self-control when it comes to you," Minho confesses, the tips of his ears turning red. "I want to touch you all the time."

"Well, you might just get your wish, baby," you tell him while stroking his cheeks. His eyes meet yours as you move one of your hands to grab his.

He shifts his weight, moving to lay beside you while you bring his hand to your chest. Minho licks his lips, squeezing your breast in his hand.

"I want you to touch me, Min," you whisper to him, looking up at him.

"I got you," he mumbles and reconnects your lips, sliding his hand down your torso.

seo changbin

"Chan is going to kill us," you whisper to your boyfriend. Changbin drags you into Chan's room before locking the door.

He presses himself against the door, releasing a sigh of relief. "He can deal with it later. Especially when one of his friends is fucking in my room," Changbin rolls his eyes while walking towards you.

You sit on the edge of Chan's bed, looking up at your muscular man. His gaze meets yours, and you grin. "Have I told you that you look handsome tonight?" You flirt with him, spreading your legs so he can stand between them.

Changbin rests his hands on your shoulders, rubbing gently. "You've mentioned it a couple of times. But, I'll gladly hear it again," he boasts cutely.

"You're so handsome, Binnie," you remind him, and he leans down to kiss your lips.

You do your best to meet him halfway, lifting yourself slightly. He deepens the kiss instantly, slipping his tongue past your lips. A hum leaves your throat, bringing your hands to his biceps.

"You wanna play a game?" Changbin whispers into the kiss, pulling back to look down at you.

He grabs your hands, tugging you up from the bed. "And what game is that Seo Changbin?" You ask curiously, lacing your fingers with his.

"Too hot," he answers you, leaning forward to brush his nose along yours. "Have you ever played?"

"I've played it once or twice, yeah," you giggle, wrapping your conjoined hands around your waist. "You think you can win?"

Changbin scoffs at your question. "You think you can win?!" He counters your question, and you raise a brow.

"Bet, baby," you scrunch your nose, leaning on your toes to kiss him. He releases your hands, both of you moving them behind your backs as the game instantly starts.

His tongue battles yours for dominance, moans slipping past your lips. You break the kiss, making Changbin whine lightly. Your eyes look over his face as he keeps his close, expecting you to reconnect your lips.

"You're such a simp for me," you smirk.

Changbin's eyes slowly open, and you notice the lust filling them. "Like you're not a simp for me," he whispers, leaning back in.

You giggle, not denying him as your lips find him again. The kiss gets steamy real quick, moans coming from both of your lips. He abruptly breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your jaw.

"Fuck, I love you," he whispers along your skin.

"I love you, Binnie," you sigh. You bite your lip as you dig your nails into the palm of your hand. "I love you so much."

"Gonna marry me?" He asks, bringing his lips back to yours. "Hm?"

Your eyes flutter shut at the question as your heart pounds against your chest. "Of course," you tell him, kissing his lips a few times.

Changbin smiles at you, bringing his hands to your face. His eyes widen at his actions, quickly pulling his hands away. "Wait!" He almost shrieks, causing you to back up.

"You lose! You're so soft for me, baby," you smirk at him, continuing to tease him.

"I hate you," he groans, tilting his head back.

A chuckle leaves your lips as you bring one of your hands to his chest. "Are you sure about that? You just said you want to marry me," you say to him, gliding the palm of your hand up and down his pecs.

He licks his lips and meets your gaze. "I do want to marry you," Changbin sighs, resting his forehead against yours. "What are your demands, Miss?"

"Hm," you drag out, tapping your fingers on your chin. "Take this weekend off so we can go somewhere… just the two of us."

Changbin shakes his head, smiling softly. "I'll talk to Chan and management," he tells you before kissing you.

"Great," you whisper into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You both pull away when a loud knock echoes from the door. He looks over his shoulder, listening out for whoever knocked.

"Changbin, get out of my room!" Chan yells and your boyfriend rolls his eyes.

hwang hyunjin

"What are we playing?" You ask Hyunjin from your spot on the couch.

Your tall boyfriend sprints across the living room, grabbing the bottle of wine from the counter in the kitchen. "Too hot," he says with a grin, opening the wine.

"Really?" You laugh, shaking your head as you watch him pour the white wine into your glass. "Isn't that game for like… teenagers?"

"Please," Hyunjin says while side eyeing you, filling his glass. "Adults can play!"

"Not many do," you snort, slipping your hands underneath your ass. "But, since you're so cute, I'll play."

He grins at you before taking a sip of the wine. "You're already ready for it," Hyunjin points out with a smirk, motioning towards your covered hands.

You watch him sit back down on the couch, turning himself to the side. He faces you before scooting a bit closer so he can kiss you.

"Ready, lover boy?" You ask him as he moves his hands behind his back.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he grins, leaning forward to kiss you.

When his plump lips meet yours, your eyes flutter shut. God, he's an amazing kisser. You think to yourself while kissing him back. His long hair tickles your face, causing you to break the kiss.

"You're tickling me," you pout at him, wiggling your crossed legs.

Hyunjin chuckles and reaches for the hair tie that sits on the coffee table. He quickly puts it up in a low ponytail before leaning back in. You whisper a thank you and reconnect your lips with his.

You lift yourself from the cushions a bit, deepening the kiss. Hyunjin gently bites your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. A moan escapes you, the two of you battling for dominance.

He abruptly breaks the kiss, moving his head back. He smirks at you as you follow, desperately wanting your lips back on his.

"Hyune," you trail off, slowly opening your eyes.

"Shit, you're cute," your boyfriend groans, pressing a light kiss on you. He kisses you shortly a couple of more times before cursing again. "I love your lips."

You grin against his lips when he kisses you once more. "I love your lips, too."

Hyunjin travels down your neck, planting sloppy kisses along the way. "This game is dangerous," he sighs.

"You wanted to play," you giggle and tilt your head to the side, giving him more access. You subconsciously move your hands out from underneath you, laying them on the nape of his neck.

Your eyes are shut when you feel him smirk against your neck. "I didn't think you'd cave first, angel," he whispers into your ear, biting down on the lobe.

A gasp leaves your lips, quickly taking your hands off him. "Shit, no!" You groan, shoving your face into your hands.

Hyunjin laughs some more, leaning away to drink some wine. "It's okay, angel. I was very close to losing," he pets the back of your head. "I already know what I want you to do."

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. "And what's that?" You ask him.

"I want to paint you… nude," he mentions with a light blush, his eyes roaming down your body.

"Oh," you mumble, feeling your cheeks warming. "Okay. Paint me like one of your French girls."

Hyunjin giggles at your comment, shaking his head afterward. "I don't have a French girl. I just have you," he grins.

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @like-a-diamondinthesky

[marypaol]

Scared

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight bullying. It’s Draco after all. ;)

Summary: Hagrid is teaching Hogwarts students about Hippogriffs, and when Harry volunteers unwillingly, Reader gets scared.

Note: No use of Y/N, story based on the movie scene but I have read the books, and requests are open just comment! Enjoy :)

*Sorry about any spelling or grammar errors

Masterlist

___

The air was slightly chilly but just the right touch to kiss your skin, your hair to brush your cheeks, and your chest to breath freely. The whole group of students were enjoying the day as a breeze went through the air and everyone felt like their worries were let go into the earth’s atmosphere.

But soon that feeling disappeared, replaced with growing fear in their stomachs as they saw the creature before them.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid’s voice boomed, his lungs being able to hold so much air that his voice sounded like he was yelling every time he spoke. Everyone shifted, eyes staring at the creature instead of their teacher.

Ron Weasley was the one who spoke first, asking the question everyone was wondering.

“Um.. what is that exactly?”

Hagrid laughed warmly, chucking a treat at the creature as it got it skillfully in its mouth, chewing contently.

“That, right there is a Hippogriff. Meet Buckbeak.”

Hagrid smiled and looked at them like they should stare in awe hence the introduction, but instead all the students seemed to display nothing but fear.

The girl herself felt scared, anxious on that the animal was capable of doing. She leaned over to Draco, eyes still fixed on the creature before them. “Do you think he’s trying to kill us or something?”

Draco chuckled, tossing his green apple in and out of his hand. “Not at all. But if he is I hope it’s Potter.”

The girl rolled her eyes but laughed nonetheless, nudging his arm with her elbow like a mother would nudge her child to shut up.

“The first thing to notice about Hippogriffs is that they are very proud creatures. You never want to insult one cause that’s the last thing you’d ever do.” He gave them a warning scan, eyes staying on Draco for a little too long so the girl gave him a look when he got to her, forcing his eyes to leave hers.

He cleared his throat and clapped his big hands the size of trash can lids. “Now, who wants to meet him?”

Everyone took a step back except for Potter, who didn’t have a clue that they left him by himself.

“Harry, thank you.” Hagrid said, making the kid look around at everyone behind him. Harry stepped forward hesitantly, staring at Hagrid with a terrified look on his face. The teacher gave him an encouraging gesture, causing the Chosen One to take more steps.

Draco chuckled softly from next to her, turning his head slightly towards her as a sign he was talking to her. “Look at scared little Potter, trembling in his shoes.”

She couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his expression, seeing a teasing glint in his silver orbs as he watched Potter walk towards the creature. “Shut up, Malfoy.” She said teasingly. He turned towards her, eyebrows raising. He didn’t make an effort to state a comeback, not when Hagrid spoke up.

“Now bow nice and slow, and if he bows back you may touch him. If he doesn’t, well, let’s get back to that later.”

Harry bowed slowly, looking up at the creature to see its reaction.

It was at that moment that Draco lost patience, instantly taking action. “I can’t see.” He complained, eyes searching the crowd until they landed on an innocent girl, harshly shoving her out of the way and finally taking a bite of his apple at the same time, people around him naturally moving away on instinct. The girl followed suit, standing next to him since the view was much more enjoyable at the new spot.

They both could see clearly at that moment that the creature had mixed feelings on the greeting, limbs wildly moving in the air.

Hagrid’s head snapped to Harry. “Harry back off now. Nice and slow now.”

While Harry followed instructions, the girl could not bear to look away, waiting for the animal to attack the student at any moment despite her fears of seeing the aftermath. Her nerves got the best of her, hand that was by her side moving quickly to the person next to her, holding theirs. His skin was soft and smooth, despite the stressful situation. Her fingers glided through his easily, holding on tight as a form of comfort. His body then recoiled unexpectedly, flinching away from her touch but their linked fingers prevented him from fully doing so. Draco’s head snapped in her direction, eyes meeting her wide ones once she realized whose hand she grabbed.

She went to take her hand back, arm yanking towards her body but he didn’t allow her, his hand seeming to have a grip on hers. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked back at the animal to distract herself, but the skin to skin contact was making her heart pound nonetheless.

His fingers didn’t loosen one bit, in fact held a little tighter when the tension between Potter and the Hippogriff grew by the second.

Even though the creature ended up bowing to the boy, allowing him to massage its beak lovingly, their hands still stayed combined.

She liked to think it was because he thought she was still scared, but his lingering touch almost begging her to keep her hand there as well as the body heat radiating was the real reason for the contact between the two Slytherins.