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haologram · 2 months ago

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hanging by a moment 🍻 j.ww [m]

synopsis: it's been a few years since you've been home for your birthday, and wonwoo can't wait to see you...right? genre: estranged childhood friends to lovers au. fluff, angst, suggestive themes. pairing: photographer!jeon wonwoo x fem!baker!reader | side pairing: kim mingyu x chou tzuyu word count: 15.8k rating: 18+. minors please do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol. food mentions. mentions of jealousy, breakups. wonwoo is a little bitter. pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) kissing. what to listen to: here is gone - the goo goo dolls ; over you - daughtry ; broken - lifehouse ; hanging by a moment - lifehouse ; long way home - 5 seconds of summer ; say yes - seventeen author's note: happiest birthday to my baby @wqnwoos ♡ i hope your birthday was full of wonderful memories and you had lots of good food, please continue staying healthy and i love you. [star dividers by @/cafekitsune here on tumblr!]

– LAST YEAR: GOYANGI SWEETS, HARLEM, NEW YORK.

"Since when do you celebrate Valentine's Day, Y/N?" Jeon Wonwoo's voice was staticky on the other end, and you rolled your eyes as you kept swiping icing on the red velvet cupcakes you'd been agonizing over for six days. Trying and dumping mixes, failed taste tests, a few burnt practice rounds all led up to this: you, up at two in the morning on FaceTime with Wonwoo, who was just now starting to finish up his work day.

You hadn't meant to move so far away, truly – or at least, not for this long. Your best friends were all back home, and the drastic time difference did work for some of them – but you rarely managed to catch Wonwoo. He would usually spend his time holed away in his bedroom or out with Kim Mingyu. However, since Mingyu moved in with his fiancée, Chou Tzuyu, three years ago – Wonwoo had the apartment to himself and you were his only company.

"Since when don't you, Jeon? No hot date for Desperation Day?"

"You watch too many movies, there's no such thing. Anyway, shouldn't you be sleeping? You open in, like, two hours." He was right, you did open in two hours.

There was just something comforting about hearing Wonwoo's voice so late in the night. It makes you feel warm, less alone.

And it's not like Wonwoo knew about your recent fight with your boyfriend.

It wasn't anything serious – just you telling him to get a fucking job, and him insisting that his job was rubbing your feet after a long day at work. It annoyed you so bad that you asked him to leave the apartment for the weekend. It's not that Wonwoo doesn't like Euijoo, but he certainly isn't his number one fan. You argue that you can't dislike someone you don't even know, but Wonwoo has made it clear that Euijoo is simply never going to be a part of his life if you're not present to make it happen. It's always been that way with Wonwoo, though. He quietly disapproved of most of the men you dated, even when you were back home – but he never made you feel bad about his perspective. He simply shared when you asked, and he didn't sugar coat it.

Before Euijoo, there was his clubmate, Hansol Chwe. Before Hansol, there was his teammate, Choi Seungcheol. Before Seungcheol, there was Mingyu.

And every single one got a side-eyed glance, even his best friend.

Slowly, you stopped talking to Wonwoo about guys, because he always seemed to be right about you deserving more. To be frank, you weren’t too keen on not doing what you wanted to do, much less who.

You and Wonwoo never breached that friendship line, and while you found solace in his irrevocable appreciation for you as a friend, you found it odd that around the time you began preparing for your relocation across the world, he floated away.

So much so that he hadn't even gone to the airport to say goodbye, or give you a hug. You hadn't seen Wonwoo in the weeks leading up to it after you told him you'd be leaving, and he always had an excuse as to why he couldn't call or hang out. You tried time and time again, only for him to eventually say he just didn't have time.

He did. You knew he did, because you saw him all over Mingyu and Tzuyu's Instagram stories. You saw him playing chess with Yoon Jeonghan. You saw him at the art museum with Xu Minghao.

You saw him soft launch a girl on his Instagram story the moment you boarded your plane. His story had been posted twenty minutes before, while you were getting your heart ripped out. You’d gone to New York with eyes full of tears, and not just because you were leaving behind everything you knew.

Wonwoo was home, and you wouldn’t have him with you.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo was never…directly the reason behind your breakups – at least, to your understanding. You never toed the line of flirting with him and vice versa, you never made your friendship out to be something it wasn't.

You and Mingyu broke up because of school but stayed extremely close. You met his then-girlfriend,Tzuyu, six months into freshman year, and you were the first person Mingyu ever told that he wanted to marry her. You even helped Mingyu build a Pinterest wedding board when he would visit you and Wonwoo.

The others? Seungcheol made the mature decision and broke up with you because of jealousy issues on his part. Hansol broke up with you with an apology and nothing more, and you tried your best to take it in stride. However, taking things in stride is not your forte – which is how you ended up with Euijoo.

Hansol broke up with you at the airport the day you left for New York, the guilt taking over his features as your eyes widened and filled with tears. You had muttered that you understood, that it was fine – but the fourteen-hour flight from Seoul to New York was full of tears and sniffling. You're sure the woman next to you had been wondering if you were okay, but you're also almost positive that the fourteen-hour loop of 5SOS' Close As Strangers through your headphones spoke for itself.

You had met Euijoo at a bar a week after you landed in New York. Your apartment had long been ready and furnished, waiting for your arrival. You sullied it that same night by bringing him home, the aura of the apartment darkening the longer he stayed. And stayed, he did. It's like he had nowhere else to go, and you were far too nice about it, too.

Hence, how he became your 'boyfriend' and how he 'moved in with you.'

Bullshit; he went home to his mother's one-bedroom condo and picked up a dusty Playstation and a pillow he liked – that was his 'moving in.'

As for why Wonwoo doesn't like him, it's obvious – Euijoo is a loser. He has no goals, no sense of urgency, no whimsical nature – nothing like you. At least, that was what Wonwoo told you the first time you called him from New York…which was over six months since you left Seoul.

You wanted to believe there was a twinge of jealousy in Wonwoo’s voice when you told him about Euijoo. His brows furrowed, he sucked his teeth more times than you could count, and he refused to meet him when you offered to have him say hello.

You couldn't lie to yourself, you knew your relationship with Wonwoo was dwindling. Your calls were growing sparse, he didn’t tell you anything about his personal life, and you still hadn’t gone back home. To him, to your friends, to your parents. The two of you had grown up together, just slightly out of each other's circles. There were two or three people who were your 'friends of friends' that connected you, before Mingyu was the first official bridge between the two of you in the seventh grade. You went on to date Mingyu for three years during high school, before you wound up going to a different university than he did – but attended with Wonwoo, instead. You hated to admit it, but you knew that you clung to Wonwoo like gum did a shoe. You hid behind his broadening frame at fraternity parties, you would ask him over to your dorm (and later, your apartment) for game nights. You eventually started baking for him – cookies, cupcakes, the like. And then you met Seungcheol, on your way to Wonwoo's apartment. You slammed into him, painting his white t-shirt and shorts in pink icing – and you remembered stuttering over your words as you watched his brows furrow while he wiped icing off his stomach. He ended up clicking his tongue, nodding his head and shrugging.

"I guess you can call it avant garde, right?"

The two of you exchanged numbers, and you wound up being late to Wonwoo's place – but at that time, it didn't matter. Not when you scored a date with an older boy that had pouty lips and the thickest thighs you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. Wonwoo had noticed you were giggly that night, but chose to brush it off when he walked behind you and saw you typing away to an unsaved number.

You and Seungcheol ended up dating for about a year, but the jealousy issues began before your relationship even started. He knew Wonwoo, and they were on the same soccer team – but something about the way Wonwoo spoke about you seemed to tick him off. No matter how often your lips were on his, your hands on his body, your body in his bed – Seungcheol's eyes always narrowed at the sight of Wonwoo floating around you for whatever reason, even if you initiated contact.

You cheered at all his games, but Wonwoo was also there even if you wore one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You invited him to your bake sales, yet Wonwoo was always the one taste testing your recipes. You invited Seungcheol to your birthday dinner, and Wonwoo was naturally there.

Wonwoo recounting memories of you as a kid at dinner was what made Seungcheol make the decision to break up with you the following week. He paced around his apartment while you sat on his couch, rattling off all the ways that Wonwoo spoke about you that meant so much more than just a platonic love.

And you didn't comfort Seungcheol, or refute his thoughts.

In fact, you denied them. You said there was no way Wonwoo saw you as anything more than his friend, you insisted that Wonwoo seeing you in the worst moments of your life was enough to make him feel icky about dating you.

It wasn't until Seungcheol crouched in front of you, holding your hands in his that you understood that he wasn't kidding. He told you that part of growing old together and being in love is seeing each other in those situations and still choosing to care and stay. He told you that Wonwoo holding your hair back as you threw up, Wonwoo knowing all your siblings' names and their favorite things, Wonwoo seeing you riddled with the flu and gross stomach bugs…

Wonwoo cared about you far more than he let on.

You left Seungcheol's apartment that night with a heavy heart and holding the stained white shirt from the first day you met him in your hand. It was still soaked in his cologne, and you remember crying yourself to sleep for two weeks straight.

Wonwoo had been there, and when you told him everything Seungcheol had said – he'd apologized.

He didn't deny anything. He didn't refute any of Seungcheol's feelings.

He apologized, for both making Seungcheol feel that way as well as being the straw that broke the camel's back. You hadn't known what to say, so you just offered to let him stay over and bake cookies with you.

He did, and the two of you gorged yourselves on white chocolate chip cookies while watching White Chicks. You cried again while he was there, and he wiped your tears and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He held you close as you pouted into his shirt, the soft scent of patchouli from his cologne settling into your skin as a blanket of comfort.

You also remember peering up at him through teary eyes, and his lips instinctively pressing to your hairline. His mumbled words never left your mind, either.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

You didn't date again for a bit after that, and Wonwoo made it a point to introduce you as his friend any time the two of you hung out. It made you feel odd, the way he forced the agenda that you were his friend and nothing more when you had no issue just going with the flow. You understood he didn't want a repeat of your relationship with Seungcheol, but it felt like he was forcing something more than just the label of your friendship.

People often asked if something had happened between the two of you — of which you always denied casually. If they asked Wonwoo, he would scoff, as if he were offended anyone would ever think you were more than just his friend. As if it was gross, or repulsive, to see you as a woman and not just the girl he grew up with. You met Hansol the next school year, a cheeky cinematography freshman that frequented your bake sales. Wonwoo met him there as well, and was the reason you and Hansol met formally. Apparently, Wonwoo and Hansol were both in the AV Club, where Wonwoo also met his first girlfriend: Lee Jaehee.

Lee Jaehee...

She had also been quite the frequenter of your bake sales. She enjoyed your slutty brownies and the strawberry blondies you made, and the two of you had been so close to becoming friends when Wonwoo asked her out. He'd even asked you to bake something for her and you did it happily, free of charge. However, Wonwoo asking her out meant her finding out that you and him went back over two decades, and the same look that settled in Seungcheol's brows, settled in hers. It was painful, to see how she would tense at your presence at Wonwoo's soccer games, ones you'd always attended. It hurt your feelings to see her give you a quick smile before passing by your booths at the bake sales, not bothering to stop by for a nibble or a chat.

It pained you to know that Wonwoo missed your birthday dinner that year to spend the weekend with her, instead. You wound up going over to Seungcheol's apartment that night, and he comforted you as best as he could – by offering a drink and inviting his friends Jeonghan and Joshua over to entertain you. Despite it all, Seungcheol never really held any resentment towards you – but he did have zero problem telling you how blind you were.

You ignored it, too.

You didn’t like the odd feeling you got in your chest thinking about Wonwoo in any way that wasn’t platonic. You weren't stupid – Wonwoo was incredibly profound with a hint of goofy humor. He was smart, and tall…and handsome…God, he was so handsome, it made you want to bite your fist.

So the idea of his hands on you? His lips on yours, his bed being more than just a drunken sanctuary…

It was too much for you to handle.

You started dating Hansol during the first semester of your senior year of college. He'd just become a sophomore, and everyone around him had been incredibly surprised that the senior sweetheart at the bake sales stopped making her incredibly soft peanut butter cookies. The reason? Hansol, and his allergy to peanuts.

No one said shit after that, only cooing at your boyfriend's blushy cheeks from your attention.

Your relationship with Hansol also came as a surprise to Wonwoo, and he found out in the strangest way – by walking into your apartment using his spare key and seeing the two of you getting frisky in the kitchen and covered in flour. You hadn't heard him come in, and didn't seem to sense his presence in the threshold of your kitchen. You don't know it, but Wonwoo has the image of you burned in his mind. The slope of your neck as Hansol kissed down it, the way your shirt was pushed up to reveal flour-covered handprints on your bare chest, the way your thighs were flexing around your boyfriend's waist… The sound of your whimper into Hansol's mouth.

He then made his presence known by coughing exaggeratedly, and you and Hansol almost slipped. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as Hansol yanked your shirt back into place, clearing his throat and greeting Wonwoo.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that there is no way eating flour out of each other's mouths is sexy." Wonwoo had come over to tell you that he and Jaehee broke up, and he did tell you – but on his way out of your apartment. You could barely hear him as the door closed, but you were also trying to finish what you and your boyfriend started in the kitchen — so you filed it to the back of your mind as you invited Hansol to join you in the shower.

It wasn't until after graduation that you decided to open a pastry shop. However, you were unsure that your at-home learning was enough to satisfy a gaggle of clientele – and decided to start applying to pastry schools. You’d already obtained a business degree, which made the idea only cement further in your head. Hansol had been incredibly supportive, even going as far as sending you applications and fee waivers while he was in class and you were driving around Seoul with Wonwoo looking for work for the time being.

Then you got a letter back from a pastry school in New York City, and Hansol was ecstatic. He paid for your flight and even took a week off school to go visit it with you. He wound up setting up meetings with realtors so you could get an apartment, and the two of you even went as far as looking at empty lease spaces where you could open a business.

You accepted the offer, and the school covered your flight back to Seoul and then back to New York City. Your parents covered your first year of rent at an apartment in SoHo, after you sent back videos of you spinning in the SeaGlass Carousel and having dinner at Shuka.

However, something changed when you went back to Seoul to pack your things. You also realized you had done all of this without even mentioning it to Wonwoo, who seemed slightly distant when you finally met him for dinner at his place after packing up your apartment. Mingyu and Tzuyu had also been there. Hansol also seemed distant for a few days, not bothering to answer your messages or calls. You showed up at his apartment, only for Seungkwan to answer the door with a knowing look and tell you he wasn't home. You remember scowling, and pushing past Seungkwan to see Hansol asleep in his bedroom, tucked away with a Star Wars blanket you'd bought him for his birthday.

You picked a fight, and Hansol wasn’t having it — said he wasn’t in the right headspace to have this conversation, and asked to rain check it for a better time. You argued there was no better time than the present, and his swollen face (whether from tears or sleep, you were unsure) was enough to make you back off for the time being. He quietly asked you to join him in his bed, and you reluctantly kicked your shoes off and did just that.

He promised he still cared, and promised he still loved you, but it felt different, the way he held you. Like a last hurrah, like a ‘goodbye’ and not a ‘see you later.’ Like things were going to end and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

You couldn't say you were surprised that Hansol broke up with you a month later, but you were certainly hurt. Wonwoo was also nowhere to be reached at this point, your calls going straight to voicemail and your texts going unread. You assumed he'd finally landed a gig, but it was still unlike him to not respond to you, of all people.

At least, you thought that was what had happened, until you saw his Instagram story.

You stopped wondering where he'd been after that.

It had been four years since then. You hadn't gone back to Seoul once, not even for Christmas or when your parents begged you back. You called for birthdays, you sent gifts out two months in advance. You sent photos of your shop, of your apartment, of you and Euijoo.

Your parents didn't really care about the ones Euijoo was in.

You finally opened your pastry shop in the middle of Harlem – two years after arriving in New York, tweaking your recipes to cater to the local clientele. Your shop was always full of customers and you loved what you did – but most of all, the people loved you. They loved seeing how easily you won people over, how you celebrated your accomplishments by putting even more effort into your business, how your employees cared about you and your shop.

You truly became an essential part of some people's lives – Ms. Julianna who came in every morning for a chocolate éclair; Mr. Cortéz came in every Saturday morning for a box of mixed empanadas and one butterscotch cupcake for his granddaughter, Elisa; Mrs. Stegenga sliding in every Tuesday for a strawberry tart and a cup of unsweetened whipped cream for her dog, Harley.

Euijoo came in everyday as well, but not for a pastry – but to bug you. You'd kicked him out a few times, shoving a warm cinnamon twist into his mouth or an iced matcha with cheese foam into his hand – but he always floated back.

Which was odd, since he didn't have a car and it took thirty minutes to get from your apartment in SoHo to your shop in Harlem. Where he was getting the money for the taxi, or to load his Metrocard was beyond you – the son of a bitch didn't lift a finger.

Now, you're here. You're still at your shop, while Euijoo is likely sprawled out on your king-sized bed, with his outside clothes still on. You're grimacing to yourself as you smooth icing out on one of the cupcakes, your brow furrowed as you hear Wonwoo sigh.

"I miss you." And just as fast as it was said, he moved on.

"Since you're not going to sleep, how was your birthday? I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call, I've been slammed with projects. Tzuyu booked me for engagement photos, isn't that crazy?" Much like your friends missed out on your life, you missed out on theirs. Mingyu and Tzuyu opened a restaurant in the middle of Seoul, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu had their first daughter, and you missed it. Mingyu and Tzuyu got engaged, and you missed it. You wouldn't be surprised if you missed their wedding, too.

Wonwoo? He opened a photography studio. He did weddings, all sorts of parties, maternity shoots. He did boudoir shoots for a bit, before handing them over to his business partner, Saerom. She had been introduced to Wonwoo through a few contacts at your old university, and he took her on as an apprentice. She now accompanies him to many shoots and gigs, usually taking the reins if Wonwoo loses his patience or gets too overwhelmed.

You'd seen his photos displayed at a few galleries after you left for New York. Your mother went and took pictures of his exhibits, his shy smile hidden behind flutes of champagne. You congratulated him via text, only to receive a thumbs up in response and nothing more.

"Yeah, that's crazy. Listen, Woo, I'm gonna try and focus on this. I'll call you later, yeah?" You sighed, frustration evident in your voice. You watched as Wonwoo struggled not to roll his eyes as he tongued his cheek, before nodding.

"Sure thing. Get some rest."

He hung up before you could respond, and you looked at the FaceTime log. Eight missed calls from Wonwoo over the last few days, three missed calls from Tzuyu and two from Mingyu.

Your friends missed you, across the world. You were missing every precious moment of theirs.

And instead, you were here. Frosting cupcakes at almost three in the morning, while your do-nothing boyfriend enjoyed the warmth of your apartment. Frosting cupcakes, while your parents begged you to come home for a few days at the very least.

The money here was good. It always had been, and you'd built such a good connection with your clientele and you couldn't imagine abandoning it all because you were homesick.

But you missed home. You missed your mother's hearty soups, you missed your father serving you dinner instead of you serving Euijoo after a long day of doing that for strangers. You missed Tzuyu's light laughter, Mingyu's warm embraces…

Wonwoo. God, you missed Wonwoo.

You remember sending him a photo of your storefront as the sign was finalized, the baby blue calling to the eyes amongst the red brick.

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] look at it! goyangi sweets is officially in business! (read: 1:09PM)

Msg From: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] goyangi?

Msg To: Jeon Wonwoo ♡ [11/09] what the fuck are you doing awake? it's 3am in seoul [11/09] yeah, goyangi. i miss you (read: 1:10PM)

He hadn't answered after that.

Sighing, you clicked your tongue and leaned against your stainless steel counter. You grabbed a cupcake off the cooling rack, prying the warm dessert in half and smearing a bit of frosting on the inside, shoving it into your mouth. You closed your eyes as you chewed, letting your shoulders sag at the sweet treat that made all the stress worth it.

It was worth it, right? The money and the love from the locals, the feeling of physical success…it was enough. It was worth the lonely nights you yearned for

You wiped your hands, moving to the front of the shop and dragging the metal divider down to block the view of outsiders. You weren't opening the shop today, no. You're going to go home, and kick Euijoo out of your bed and sleep.

That's all you need. Some sleep.

– SOPHOMORE YEAR: SEOUL HAWKS VS YONSEI EAGLES, SEMIFINALS.

"We have No. 08, Choi Seungcheol approaching the goal area for the freekick. Choi is the team captain for the SNU Hawks, and the only PreMed student on the team. He has also scored fifty-six percent of all game-winning goals this season, and we're hoping this kick gets them into the Championship bracket."

You were on the edge of your seat, your frame being swallowed by one of Seungcheol's jerseys. You were alone in the stands for the first time – Mingyu and Tzuyu were stuck at the concessions stand. Unfortunately, you were also the only person on this side of the field wearing an SNU jersey, and trying not to tweak out as you listened to Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin talk about your boyfriend over the PA.

"Oh, oh, looks like Choi is not taking the freekick after all?" Jimin's voice was clear, and the crowd collectively sighed as Seungcheol analyzed the players and shook his head.

You were barely able to sit down as you watched him jog over to his referee, making motions with his hands and arms when you saw Wonwoo crossing the field in a sprint. He slid next to Seungcheol, who pulled him closer into the circle and kept talking. Wonwoo's brows were furrowed as he nodded, breathing heavily before wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. "It seems Choi has nominated No.17, Jeon Wonwoo, to take the freekick instead. Jeon is the second in command, dedicating two years of his college career to this team. He's scored sixteen percent of the game-winning goals this season, opting to stay in the shadows." You didn't like that.

"Alright, alright…it seems we're lining up…Eagles are looking fine this year, aren't they?" "Jeon, that's inappropriate." "What, man? You're going to look at Kim Yugyeom and say I'm wrong?" "Jungkook, they can hear you."

"Hey, shit. Here's your soda." Tzuyu slides in next to you, and you don't unglue your eyes from the field as you reach and fumble for your drink. The straw poked your hand as Mingyu slid past you, making you scowl as you swatted his leg for him to sit down.

"Wonwoo's taking the kick? I thought it was going to be Cheol." Mingyu muttered, taking a bite from his hot dog. You nodded, watching as Wonwoo shook his head while still talking to Seungcheol. His hands were moving rapidly, likely explaining why Wonwoo didn't want to make the kick. Your boyfriend only gave Wonwoo a stern look, and you could make out the words falling from his lips.

"I believe in you. Kick the fucking ball."

You watched as the Eagles made their wall, their goalie shaking his legs out. Kwon Soonyoung, you remembered – you'd met him at a frat party at Yonsei a few weeks back. Seungcheol had gone with you, making friends with the enemy (more like scoping out his competition. Sneaky bitch.) "C'mon, Woo." You mumbled to yourself, grabbing Tzuyu's hand for support as she shoved a nacho into her mouth. You were too amped up to eat, this kick was the one that would settle the score – and it was all on Wonwoo.

You knew Seungcheol wouldn't put anyone he didn't trust on this sort of line. Yeah, he had an issue with how close you and Wonwoo were, but his team was important to him – he'd built this one on his own, handpicked, the best of the best. You trusted Seungcheol knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't set up Wonwoo for failure…

…And he didn't, as you watched Wonwoo's kick bounce off the goalpost and straight into the net – just barely missing Soonyoung's fingertips.

"THE HAWKS ARE GOING TO THE CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

You cheered happily, the only one besides Mingyu and Tzuyu – and earned the nastiest of glares from Yonsei students as you ran down the steps of the bleachers. Seungcheol was jumping with his arms around Wonwoo and another player, Wen Junhui, when you pushed past them to get to your friend.

"Wonwoo! That was fucking amazing!"

He just shook his head, aiming the water bottle into his mouth as he gestured towards Seungcheol.

"That's all Cheol's idea. Mastermind behind it all." You whipped around to see your grinning boyfriend being shaken by Mingyu, trying to pry himself from your friend's embrace as you felt the cold splash of the water cooler being poured on Wonwoo. It went down your back as well, making you squeal as you jumped out of the way. Seungcheol reached his arm out to you, and you grabbed his hand as his teammates picked a soaked Wonwoo up and onto their shoulders.

"We'll meet you at the parking lot!" Mingyu yelled as he and Tzuyu trailed after them, and Seungcheol only gave a thumbs up. It was customary that the entire team went to dinner together, usually still in their stinky and sweaty jerseys but Seungcheol had long refused to let the team be represented that way. Everyone went home to get themselves together, then he footed the bill.

"Cheol, that was great! You're going to the championships!" Your smile was hurting your cheeks as he nodded, pulling you into his chest. He was sweaty and overwhelmingly warm, but you didn't care as he plucked the fabric of your wet shirt off your back in greeting.

"You know…you could've greeted me first." "Oh, not this again! Seungcheol, Wonwoo is just my friend." "I know he is, Y/N." Seungcheol said pointedly, but you felt scrutinized under his arched brow. You felt your lip jut out into a pout, and he sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon, you can come over to mine and change." He swept your hair back over your shoulders, his fingers brushing your neck. You frowned, your hands floating to his wrists as he shook his head.

"Tell me you love me, Cheol." "I love you, honey. Come on."

It wasn't a lie. Seungcheol did love you, but it'd slightly become less of a romantic love as the months pressed on. He couldn't get over the odd feeling in his stomach when he saw Wonwoo's soft gestures towards you, the way Wonwoo served your drinks at the parties you went to, the way Wonwoo behind a camera made you smile easily – far easier than necessary for someone that was just your friend.

He hated how you didn't see it, the way Wonwoo was in love with you. He could see it, and he knew it was the truth: Wonwoo would visibly tense at the sound of your name. Seungcheol remembers when Junhui asked him his plans last week, and how Wonwoo grimaced when Seungcheol said he was taking you on a date night.

He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like feeling like his jealousy was festering in the pit of his stomach while you saw it as nothing more than just friendly banter. Granted – Wonwoo never flirted with you, never touched you inappropriately, he never crossed the line.

But the soft compliments he gave you? The gentle swipe of your hair off your face and the adjustment of your necklaces?

The way he calmly called your name, or sweetheart from across the room…

And you listened.

It wasn't your fault. Seungcheol knew it wasn't, and he felt like a fool to keep feeling so much resentment towards Wonwoo – especially when Wonwoo also made it strictly known that everything he felt was platonic.

It just didn't feel that way.

"I love you, Cheol." "I know, honey. Now…let's get dinner?"

– FIVE YEARS AGO: INCHEON AIRPORT TO LAGUARDIA, NEW YORK.

"I'm sorry."

You were standing in the middle of Incheon Airport, your duffle bag tucked over your shoulder when Hansol dropped the bomb.

"Sorry?" You whispered, your voice shaky as the reality of his words sank in.

It'd been a few days since you packed your last box and dropped it off at your parents' house. Hansol had gone with you, warmly greeting your parents and sitting in your living room, your mother showing him baby photos. You remember feeling your heart race at how Hansol traced your face in the pictures, before glancing up at you.

The wild beating in your chest hadn't been positive, and there was a glint of knowing in Hansol's eyes. The relationship was over, it was just a matter of who pulled the plug, and when. It had been a month or so since you settled everything in New York, and a month since either of you spoke about it. You had gone to his apartment and looked to pick a fight – but the fight never happened. He pulled you into him, and you had snuggled in his bed. You kissed, you watched movies…

But it was a goodbye and you denied it. In your heart, in your mind, you wanted to deny it. It was a good thing, wasn't it? To be in New York and know that Hansol had connections there? His sister lived there. If he wanted…if he wanted, he could come with you. Transfer to a university in New York, and it would be worth it. To study in a place he once called home, to breathe in the inspiration of the city that has been the background of hundreds of films, the breeding ground of insane creativity? And if not…what about you? Were you enough to want to move in with? Did he see a future with you where things were more than just college sweethearts who stayed over at each other's apartments more than four times a week? Did he understand who you were, to the depths – the need to love, because you were overflowing with it?

Did he see a future where you were more than just attached at the hip with Wonwoo?

The truth was, he did. He saw it all with you – the apartment, the marriage, hell, even a kid or two. He saw all of it, a ring and a career alongside you and to see all your hopes and aspirations grow into something tangible. He saw it.

You didn't.

"I know it's shitty of m-me to do this, especially n-now." He held back his tears, but his voice shook with bitten back sobs anyway. "But I can't. I c-can't do long distance."

Somehow, he knew you knew that wasn't the real reason. He knew, from the way the back of your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, the grip on your duffle making the strap burrow into your hand. The way you bounced on your toes, once, twice – before nodding. A singular tear rolled down your face.

"It's okay. I understand." Your voice had been surprisingly steady as he hesitated, before reaching his arms out. You stepped into them, and somehow felt the weight off your shoulders as he hugged you tightly. "I'll miss you, Sol." "I miss you already, babe. Please call me when you land, okay? I'll be up, I swear."

You had called him when you landed. He'd arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to your new apartment. He finally cried on the phone, and you sobbed with him as you made your bed and settled in.

After six hours of reminiscing and crying on the phone, you hung up for what you thought would be the last time. He wished you good luck, and to call him whenever you wanted. And God, you wanted to.

But just like Wonwoo, you left it alone. Six months, not a single word.

– PRESENT: LAGUARDIA AIRPORT TO JEON WONWOO, HOME.

You looked into the empty space you used to call your second home. Gone were the calming periwinkle walls, the gold-detailed pastry cases. Gone were your cherry wood bar stools, the wicker recliners in the corner, the play areas for children.

Your shop was gone, and you held the keys in your hand one last time.

"End of an era, huh? Where are you going to go now?" Mr. Cortéz was next to you, holding his granddaughter on his hip as you sighed.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to miss Harlem, but I know that…this isn't home." You said sheepishly, running a hand through your hair. He nodded, patting your shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"We're going to miss you here, mija. You will always have a place in Harlem with us." To say you wanted to cry was an understatement, but you just blinked the tears back as you allowed him and his granddaughter to envelope you into an embrace. "I left my cupcake recipe with your wife, so you can always make them for Elisa. I'm going to miss you."

"Be safe, okay? Don't give up on your dreams." He patted your back softly, and you held back a sniffle as your leasing agent gave you a soft smile. Goodbyes were never something you were good at, but you couldn't say anything more as you handed your keys back to the leasing agent and turned to your packed car. You grimaced at the sight of Euijoo's neck pillow still in your passenger seat, and you reached in through the window to grab it and shoved it in the trash.

You sighed, glancing up at your empty shop once more before slipping into the driver's seat, gripping the glittery wheel cover. You blinked once, twice, before shoving your key in the ignition and pulling out of your parking spot.

You truly had no idea if this was the right decision. In your mind, you weren't sure.

But your heart?

You broke up with Euijoo a few months ago, and kicked him out of your apartment. You slowly started selling everything in the apartment, only packing your essentials and finding a wholesale thrift to take all your furniture from the pastry shop. You closed the shop officially a week ago, and did a mass bake sale to finish all your products.

You went back and forth to Seoul without telling anyone, finding a cozy apartment in Gangnam and meeting with a leasing agent there to open a shop. Your parents long stopped asking you to come home, but you couldn't help and feel giddy as you walked around the city – gorging yourself on hot street food and buying furniture for your new apartment without interference.

Now? You just had to board your plane. You'd sold your car to Euijoo's brother, Hyunjin, and he was waiting at the airport to take it once you left. You had zero plans of telling anyone anything, and you'd be landing in Seoul the day before your birthday. You could catch up on any sleep, and then visit Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant. Maybe get dinner there, maybe catch up with the couple…

Maybe surprise Wonwoo.

Yeah, that sounds like the plan.

"Nice change of scenery, finally took a vacation?" Wonwoo's voice is once more staticky through FaceTime, and you've got him propped up in your new bathroom. You hadn't said anything about leaving New York yet, but you shrugged as you carefully lined your lips.

"Mhm, could say that. Finally get to do shit without Euijoo weighing me down. What are your plans tonight? Going to Gyu's?" You ask nonchalantly, but you can feel your hands trembling as you put down your lipliner. If Wonwoo notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Actually, I'm going to swing by the restaurant in a bit. We always call you for your birthday, you know, so it's funny you called me first." He nods lightly, but you know Wonwoo too well to think he's not even slightly suspicious. "Wanted to beat you to it, I guess. I feel alone here a bit, the resort is super nice but I'm so…ugh, I don't know. I might go out for a beer, see what kind of trouble I can get myself into." You wiggle your brows in the camera, and Wonwoo snorts. He swings his keys in front of him, shaking his head as he speaks.

"Not too much trouble, I hope. Have you talked to your parents yet? I know your mom misses you, you've been even more MIA since you and Euijoo broke up. I commend it, don't get me wrong, but still. Where the hell have you been?" "Healing." You shrug, smushing your cheek with the palm of your hand. Wonwoo doesn't look like he believes you, but you only give him a soft smile. He tries to bite his back, tonguing his cheek as he huffs.

"You look happier. I like that." "I feel happier, Woo." It's not a lie. You feel so much lighter being back in Seoul, knowing that your family and friends are no more than a train ride away.

You pretend to check your watch, sucking your teeth.

"Shit, I'm going to miss my dinner reservation. Will you still call me when you get to the restaurant? I miss you guys." You pout, tucking your hair behind your ears as Wonwoo nods.

"Yeah, no worries. Be safe, and don't get too tipsy. I can't hold your hair when you throw up from all the way over here, you know." He scolds, making you giggle.

"Got it. I'll see you, yeah?" You nod, and he does the same.

"See you, sweetheart." The call goes dead as your heart registers the pet name, but you immediately rustle out of the bathroom to catch a taxi. You're wearing a black crew neck over a nice pair of jeans, paired with your favorite dirty Chucks in forest green. You grab your winter coat off the hook by the door, tugging it on and shoving your phone in your pocket. Checking the coat pockets for your wallet and keys, you find both in the left pocket and practically slam out of your apartment.

Not having been to Mingyu and Tzuyu's restaurant definitely proved navigating there to be difficult. You got out a block away from the actual spot, tugging a face mask over your face and pulling the hood of your coat over your hair. You take a deep breath, taking a step forward when you see a tall man step out of a taxi, a black coat covering broad shoulders. Thick frames sit on his nose, the lower half of his face covered by a black mask. You squint your eyes to see closer as he hands the driver a wad of cash, and the crinkle of his nose proves it's exactly who you're looking for.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You stay rooted in your spot as he walks coolly into the restaurant, holding the door open for a woman and her daughter to slip out. The daughter's eyes widen as he moves past them, her cheeks flushing as her mother rushes her off the sidewalk. What a funny thing, to see someone else experience the same things you do.

Over the year that you decided to leave New York, you spoke to Hansol and Seungcheol a lot – even after promising 'this is the last call,' you called them again and again. As it turns out, he too felt that Wonwoo was a bigger part of your life than he could ever be, but it didn't hit him until he found out Wonwoo had missed every single AV Club meeting in the two weeks following him finding out that the two of you were dating. Wonwoo didn't speak to Hansol directly for over a month, until Hansol confronted him and got the answers he was looking for.

Wonwoo had long been in love with you, and had gone over to your apartment initially to, yes, tell you he'd broken up with Jaehee; but he also went over there to confess to you. He'd brought over a bouquet of pink camellias, but left them on the porch in case he caught you at a bad time – and Hansol later found out he threw them away on his way out of your apartment complex.

At first, Hansol had nothing to say on the matter. You were his girlfriend — but he couldn’t lie to himself, the guilt of knowing Wonwoo had been in love with you for so long was starting to eat away at him. With a reluctant heart, he ended things; only for Wonwoo’s dumbass to not make a move and let you slip away to New York.

You'd also heard from Seungcheol and Hansol that he hadn't kept a girlfriend around for too long since – nothing to write home about. He didn't introduce any of them to anyone, just soft launched here and there on social media but mostly kept the "situationships" to himself.

The only hope you had in your belly was that your plan would go, well, according to plan. You'd ordered a bouquet of flowers, pink camellias, to be delivered to Wonwoo at the restaurant after you arrived. After that…okay you didn't plan anything after that, but spontaneity is cool, right?

You wipe your palms on your coat, taking a deep breath as you walk towards the door. Yanking it open, you hear the doorbell alert the people inside – only to see a few people scattered around. Mingyu is wiping a glass down behind the bar and Tzuyu is sitting on a barstool next to Wonwoo, her left hand sitting atop her belly.

With a huge rock on her ring finger. "Welcome to Hana's! Have a seat anywhere, we'll be right with you!" Her voice is just as warm as ever, and you find yourself forcing your feet to move, ducking your head as you head towards the back of the restaurant. You see Mingyu lean over to grab a bottle off the wall, and you slide into one of the booths where you're out of sight but they're not.

You can hear them start to talk about you, Mingyu pouring Wonwoo a beer and sliding it across the bar.

"Has Y/N spoken to either of you?" Tzuyu asks, and Wonwoo clicks his tongue.

"Yeah, she called me earlier. It was a little odd, considering we always call her. But it's her birthday, I'm not going to badger her for answers. Plus, she's on vacation for once. Can't complain." He shrugs, and Mingyu laughs softly.

"Vacation? Where? Did she say?" "I didn't ask." Wonwoo replies, and Tzuyu snorts. "You'd be a horrible spy, Jeon. Here, I'm going to call her. She's gotten better at answering." You watch Tzuyu grab her phone off the table, and quickly lower your ringer as far as it will go. She faces the phone towards all of them, and Wonwoo looks unamused as you feel your phone start vibrating in your hand.

You deny the call, quickly texting her that you're driving to dinner and will call her when you get to the restaurant. A lie, and you can see her frown sadly next to Wonwoo. She puts her phone down, sliding off the bar stool – likely on her way to you.

"Gonna take this order, I'll be right back." She grabs the notepad off the bar, but the ringing of the doorbell grabs her attention. A delivery man with a huge bouquet of flowers slips in, holding the baby blue gift card in his hand.

"For Jeon Wonwoo? Is there a Jeon Wonwoo here?" Wonwoo's eyes go wide, before he clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. That's me, thank you. Does it say who they're from?" The delivery man hands him the card, bidding everyone a good night.

"Well?" Mingyu leans over as Wonwoo puts the flowers down on the bar and flips the card open. His eyes dart back and forth as he reads it, before handing it to Mingyu, who reads it out loud while Wonwoo thumbs the petals.

To Wonwoo,

Thank you for always being someone I can count on, even when I'm halfway across the world. Thank you for looking out for me, and for loving me more than you let on.

Always yours, Y/N.

P.S. Don't forget to call me back!

"Huh." Mingyu clicks his tongue, and Tzuyu grabs the card and scans it. She sighs, holding it to her chest.

"Camellias…" Wonwoo pouts, before his eyes narrow. "They're her favorite. It's like she's trying to tell me something." "Okay, mind reader. What could she possibly have to say that isn't already in the card?" Tzuyu waves it around, and you take it as your chance to slide out of the booth, hands in your pockets. You walk towards them quietly as Mingyu and Tzuyu begin to theorize, and neither of them look your way as you slide into the barstool diagonal to Wonwoo's.

"She probably wants to know what a girl's gotta do to get some service around here." You mumble, and Tzuyu flushes, about to apologize when you carefully slip your mask off.

"But I guess you can treat me, since it is my birthday." You shrug, Mingyu's eyes widening before he covers his face and sinks to the ground behind the bar. Tzuyu scoffs out a laugh, her eyes filling with tears as she pulls your hood off your head, her hands smoothing your hair down gently.

"You're home." She whispers, her belly getting in the way as she pulls you into her. You feel your eyes burn with tears as she buries her face in your hair, your hand moving to pat her back. "I am, I missed you guys." You murmur, and Mingyu hops over the bar to also crush you in his embrace. You can barely see out of your teary eyes, but you can see Wonwoo's cheeks flushed almost as pink as the flowers, the shock in his demeanor evident but he just clears his throat and looks away.

"How long are you here for? A week? A month? Please say a month, you have to meet our kids." Mingyu begs into your hair, and you can barely conjure words as Wonwoo stays silent. "Shit, I'll even buy you a new ticket back to New York if you stay for two months." You don't respond, waiting for the couple to pull away. You wiggle lightly, making them both move back as you wipe your eyes. "I'm here for good. I have a new place in Gangnam, and I'm opening a shop a few blocks from here. I'm…I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you guys." You gesture towards Wonwoo as well, who only tongues his cheek before running the tips of his fingers around the rim of his beer. He nods, "Yeah. Welcome home, sweetheart." "You're not even going to hug me? Some friend you are." You try to joke, and Wonwoo scoffs,before reluctantly sliding off his stool. Tzuyu says something about getting you dinner, skirting out of the way. It seems Mingyu also gets the hint, moving away with the promise of a nice beer.

You're overwhelmed by the same patchouli scent on Wonwoo’s clothes, sweetened with notes of peach as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your own wrap around his shoulders, and you can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he breathes you in softly. He nestles his head next to yours, and his breath is warm against your ear as he speaks.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N." He mumbles, and you feel his arms tighten slightly, as if you're going to slip away. "We need to have a serious conversation, though, because I am mad at you."

You scoff slightly, trying to hide your tears as you bury your face in his neck. He rubs your back gently, before pulling away and wiping your eyes carefully. "Later." You only nod, watching Tzuyu carefully walk over with a bowl of hot tofu stew, and Mingyu slides a pint glass across the bar for you.

You spend the next three hours consoling an emotional Tzuyu, and telling Mingyu all about the delicious dishes you tried in New York. He jests that the restaurant would love a pastry chef if you're willing to share your recipes, and you only snort and turn him down softly. You tell them all about Euijoo, only earning scoffs and huffs from the couple as Wonwoo nurses his beer silently.

You tell them about your shop in Harlem, and how it was actually a call with Wonwoo last year that made you realize that you were unhappy – which made his cheeks flush, but he remained quiet, only nodding along. Tzuyu squeezes his shoulder, and he just nibbles on his lip as you keep talking about all the regulars you had. You tell them about your SoHo apartment and how you often visited the Seaglass Carousel if you were feeling stressed. You promised to take them there someday, if they ever wanted to see what your life was like when you were gone.

They fill you in about their own lives – planning their wedding, having their second daughter in a few weeks. They talk about their oldest, Eunha, and how she's growing up to be just like Mingyu. You hold back tears as they eagerly talk about their budding family and their beautiful relationship, often sharing looks full of adoration and admiration for one another as they spoke. You listen carefully, and Tzuyu even asks if, since you're back, you'd like to be a bridesmaid.

You agree, when Mingyu finally brings out a thick slice of his infamous chocolate cake – one that actually got you into baking but you'd never admit it. At least, not to him.

"Happy Birthday, Y/N! We're so glad you're home, seriously. It's been so dull without you." Tzuyu cheers, allowing Mingyu to light the pink candle in the middle of the slice. You smile softly, tucking your hair behind your ears as they sing to you softly – Wonwoo mouthing along from his stool.

"Make a wish." Mingyu holds it up to you, and you can't help but realize that he's a father now. Tzuyu is a mother, and they have their whole lives figured out. They're so gentle, loving, passionate…and you're still trying to figure yourself out.

Ah, but comparison is the thief of joy.

You close your eyes, sighing before conjuring your wish in your mind.

You don't notice when Wonwoo takes a quick photo, the flash hidden by Tzuyu's shoulder.

You blow out the candle quietly, opening your eyes to see the couple clapping softly. Tapping the plate, you clear your throat.

"Can I get this in a box? I have some things I need to sort out before the night ends."

Mingyu and Tzuyu share a look, before she glances over her shoulder. You nod as she looks back at you, and she smiles.

"Well, we'll see you more often, right? You have to meet Eunha, and the baby."

"Absolutely." And you mean it. You mean it as Mingyu boxes up your slice of cake, sealing it into a brown paper bag for you. You inch closer and closer to Wonwoo as the goodbyes become extensive, before splaying your hand across his back. He glances over his shoulder, a jump in his brows as if to say, ready to go?

You bid Mingyu and Tzuyu a good night, and you promise them you'll even try to come by in the morning for Mingyu's mother's oxtail soup. Mingyu says he can't promise there will be any up by the time you come by, but you make Tzuyu promise to save you a bowl. She does.

"When did you sell the shop?" Wonwoo asks as the two of you step out into the street, the cold air making his breath visible as he speaks. "And why didn't you tell me?" You look at the flowers in his arms, how he holds them like a baby.

"I was worried you'd be upset that I gave up." You murmur as the two of you begin to walk seemingly with no direction, earning a sigh from Wonwoo.

“I’m upset that you didn’t even think to tell me anything. I’m supposed to be your friend. One of your best friends, if I’m not mistaken. You move across the world and suddenly that doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Wonwoo, it’s not like that. I just…I should know what I want out of life. I should know where my heart calls home, but it’s only been a person. I’m not sure if the place matters.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair as Wonwoo flags down a taxi.

“Your place or mine?” He mutters, opening the door for you to slide in.

“Yours.” You mumble back, giving the driver a quick smile as Wonwoo shuts the door. He rattles off his address — and it’s the same building as yours.

“…I live there, too.” You whisper, and he clicks his tongue.

“Good to know.” He shrugs, before reaching over and tugging your seat belt on. He clicks in place, choosing to stay silent as the taxi weaves through the busy roads. You want to say something, and you attempt to several times — but he just shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips as if to say wait.

And wait, you did.

You let him pay the taxi driver and help you out of the taxi. You let him lead you into the lobby, the security guard giving the both of you a curt nod as you duck into the elevator.

Wonwoo only lives a few doors down from you.

“Interesting.” You murmur to yourself. It’s like I’ll always find my way back to you.

He unlocked his door, holding it open for you to slip through. You did, silently toeing your shoes off in his foyer before stepping into his living room. Shrugging your coat off, you watch him flick the lights on.

Everything is so him. From stacked consoles on the side of his television, to a bookcase full of acoustic guitar records and a few thick books. A few of his cameras are strewn on his kitchen table, popped open and film exposed. His record player sits in front of his window, the blinds and curtains pushed open and the window slightly ajar to circulate the air. There is a mug on his coffee table, half full of what you assume to be green tea.

It smells like patchouli, peaches, and home.

His hand takes the bag from you, and he walks past you to place the flowers and the cake on his kitchen counter. He closes his eyes as he tugs his coat off, and you avert your eyes from his form-fitting shirt — opting to turn around and hang your coat on the rack by the door.

“Are you actually here for good? Or was that just something you said to appease Mingyu and Tzuyu?” He mutters, thumbing at the petals of the flowers once more. You sigh, crossing your arms as you sidle up next to him. Your hip bumps his as you lean on the counter, and his eyes avoid yours as you look up at him.

His shoulders are tense.

“I’m here for good, Wonwoo. I missed it here, I missed Mingyu and Tzuyu and I missed my parents.”

“What about me? Did you miss me?”

His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear it, and you purposely bump your hip to his to garner his attention.

“Of course I missed you.” You whisper, a smile twitching at your lips as he nibbles on his lip.

“Then why didn’t you visit? Why did it take you six months to call me when you first moved? Why…Why did you date Euijoo?”

You feel your chest ache at his questions, the furrow in his brows making you push off the counter, straightening. Sighing, you rest your head on his bicep, the muscle tensing beneath your cheek.

“Sometimes we do things to fill a void, you know? Sometimes we hide from the things we know could be good for us, and look for something we think could be enough, so we won’t ruin or sully what we have already.” You shrug, and he looks down at you again.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I wish I would’ve realized how you felt about me before I left. I mean, I would’ve still gone but I would’ve visited more. I would’ve come back often, tried to make it work. I’m sorry.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, and he just shakes his head.

“My feelings here don’t matter, I’m talking about you.”

“You are a huge part of me, of my life.” You remind him, your hand ghosting over the small of his back as he huffs.

“So you abandoned your life in New York, your dream, for me?” Wonwoo sounds almost offended, and you scoff.

“I abandoned my life in New York because I missed home. I missed my parents, my friends. I miss talking to my friends when we’re all staying up late, not just when I am and I have to go to bed when the gab gets good. I…I missed walking around in the middle of the night with you, and getting heartburn from eating spicy noodles at two in the morning. Can’t I miss home, Wonwoo?”

He clicks his tongue, tapping his fingers on the counter. “I guess you can. But you said home for you is not a place, but a person.”

“I did say that.”

He doesn’t say anything, picking at his nails silently before sighing.

“Did Hansol tell you about the flowers?” He murmurs, and you nod.

“You could’ve talked to me, especially between boyfriends. You had lots of chances, Seungcheol literally aired you out.” You say pointedly, and he rolls his eyes.

“You didn’t believe him, and I wasn’t going to ruin our friendship because I was feeling something you weren't.”

“And how do you know that I wasn’t?” You raise a brow, and he scoffs. He shoves his hands in his pockets, moving out of the kitchen to go sit on his couch. He leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes as you make your way over and perch on the edge of his mahogany coffee table.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday dinner that one year. I thought if I missed one, it’d be easier to start getting used to not seeing you. I was fully committed to getting over you, to moving on, even if I wasn’t happy with…fuck, I forgot her name.”

“Jaehee.”

“With Jaehee.” He ran his hand over his face, and you sigh.

“That was ages ago, Wonwoo. We move on.” You pat his knee, and he lifts his head to face you. His cheeks are slightly flushed as he takes a breath.

“I don’t want to move on, that’s the problem. You think I haven’t tried? Do you know how many relationships I’ve been in since you’ve left?”

“Mmh, I don’t. Do tell.” You nod, inching slightly closer, resting your elbows on your knees and clasping your hands together. He doesn’t look amused, running an exasperated hand through his hair and closing his eyes.

“I look for you everywhere, and I’ve never even had you. I can’t help but compare every single woman I’ve ever been with to you, Y/N. It’s driving me fucking insane, being in love with you.”

He’s hiding his face in his hands, and you feel your chest grow hot as you hum in response. You shift slightly, your knees bumping his and making him sigh.

“I mean, for years it's been like we're in this odd mesh of limerence and denial. You do something that makes me think, oh, maybe she's into me? You'd seek me out for comfort, for help, for whatever, and I was there. I am there, like an idiot, hoping you'll just get it. Then you date people who are in proximity to me – my best friend, my team captain, the secretary of my AV club. Then you leave. You left, Y/N."

"I know." You can't recognize the thickness in the back of your throat, the way you swallow around it as he fiddles with one of his rings. "You didn't even come say goodbye, Wonwoo. Hansol ripped my heart out and handed it to me, because of you, and you weren't even there." "I didn't want to see you cry." He mumbles, and you only shake your head.

"You've seen me cry, you've seen me laugh. You've been the reason behind the tears and the laughter. You've seen me in all these weird spots in my life, you watched me date all these men. You were most of the reason as to why these men broke up with me. Yet, you never once thought that I was looking for you?" "Why would I ever give myself that much importance?" He scoffs, and you shrug. "Maybe because I give you that much importance, Wonwoo."

He sighs shakily, leaning back on the couch cushions and swallowing hard. "Did you know I got a few collections displayed in a museum after you left? Your parents went, did they send you photos?"

"Some. I liked the one of Tzuyu and Mingyu in the flower fields." He got up, skirting around your knees and walking up to the bookcase next to his TV. He scours the leather bound books, before a soft aha! falls from his lips, pulling out a green one. He flips it, and you realize it's a photo album.

He hands it to you, sitting back down on the couch. You open it tentatively, your fingers trembling as the photos come into view. They have that digital camera feel to them, a bit grainy and dated. The first photo was old, you could tell just from the image: it was you and Mingyu, sitting around a bonfire at a waterfall you would hang out at during the warmer months, one that went into a lake lined with boulders. You were dating here, and your nose had melted marshmallow swiped across it while Mingyu grinned in the corner of the photo.

"This is an old photo, Wonwoo." "They're all old, you haven't been around." He retorts, before flipping the page.

Another photo of you smiling as you laid out on the flat boulder by the edge of the lake, another of you on the handlebars of Mingyu's bike – you remember that one, it was Mingyu's seventeenth birthday. Another of you with Tzuyu solving a puzzle during one of Mingyu's visits, you and Hansol sharing a cup of lemonade during a snack run after one of Wonwoo's soccer games, you and Seungcheol swinging on a hammock in the park – where you often bumped into Wonwoo taking photos of birds, flowers, life.

There was photo after photo of you, in every moment of your life. There was a photo of the pink camellias he'd gotten for you, there was a photo of his student apartment packed up but one of your cardigans, bright red, stark against the cardboard boxes. This album, full of memories of you through his eyes – without a singular glimpse of Wonwoo, until the last photo.

It wasn't like the other photos – this was high definition, and you remember this photo being taken. You were wearing a pink t-shirt that had belonged to Wonwoo, and a necklace that Wonwoo had given to you for one of your birthdays. You were sitting on his couch, surrounded by Mingyu and Tzuyu. You had a bag of honey mustard pretzels that Wonwoo bought you in your lap, your smile shy and your fingers holding a napkin.

It was the day you finally told them you'd be leaving, just moments before.

And you remember how quietly he'd put his camera away after that, and your friends had settled uneasily around you. Wonwoo sat on his coffee table, eyes worried but masked with a soft smile – just like you were, now.

The album was empty after that, with only two or three pages left to complete it.

"This was an exhibit I arranged for the museum, but I never submitted it. I called it Hanging By A Moment, because that's what…" He takes a deep breath. "That's what this feels like. I feel like I'm just waiting for the moment to end, and I'm not sure in which direction I would prefer it to happen. Sometimes I would stay awake and wonder why I didn't go visit you, but I knew exactly why." You set the photo album on your lap, giving him a gentle look.

"You didn't want to see something that would break your heart." "I didn't want to see you happy with someone else, somewhere else." His voice is thick, and you move to speak but he shakes his head.

"I didn't want to go somewhere and see you living so well without me, when I'm in shambles without you. I couldn't sleep most nights the first year that you were gone. I found myself still walking towards your apartment with Hansol. Hell, I've even hung out with Seungcheol, routinely, just to feel the influence of you. The essence of what you are, imprinted in the people you've graced with your presence." He's looking down at his hands, a singular tear rolling down his cheek. You feel like you can't breathe around the lump in your throat, as he glances up.

"I don't think I can handle this anymore. I need you to say nothing is ever going to happen between us, that the moment is over. I need you to end this, because if you don't, I never will."

You can't speak, but it doesn't matter – because he keeps going.

"I'd be perfectly content having you within arm's reach for the rest of my life, as long as you're happy. You could be across the world, hell, across the fucking universe and I'd never stop missing you, or yearning for you, or loving you. Befriending you all those years ago has got to be one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made, because I can't imagine a life without you. But loving you, being in love with you? Y/N, that has got to be the biggest grace I've ever been given by whatever God is out there. Nothing has ever been easier than loving you has been, but it is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. So, please. End this, I'm begging you." Your throat hurts from holding back your tears, a soft sob escaping your lips as you turn away. You let the tears run down your cheeks, using your hand to muffle your cries as he just lets his tears drip onto his jeans. You can see, through blurry eyes, the way he wants to reach for you, the way his hands clenched into fists before he shoves them under his thighs.

It's silent for a moment, aside from shaky breathing and a few sniffles from Wonwoo. You wipe your eyes carefully, trembling hands gripping the edges of the album as you slide it onto the coffee table next to you. He grabs it, using it as an excuse to stand up and move around – Wonwoo always needed to do that after talking. Like he felt the need to exert all his feelings physically.

You also stand, his rug soft under your socked feet as he slides the album back in place. He doesn't turn back around, his hand lingering on the spine of the album as you round the coffee table. You're right behind him, seeing the buried tension in his back and shoulders as he feels your presence. You clear your throat as best as you can.

"I don't want the moment to end." He doesn't move, and you find yourself stepping in front of him, between the bookcase and his chest. He doesn't look at you, but allows your hands to find home on his chest. You smooth his shirt cautiously, before patting him gently.

He glances down.

"You're my home, Wonwoo." You say softly, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. Your hand moves to his jaw, your thumb gently tracing circles into his cheek. He has a bit of stubble, despite the cool scent of his aftershave. You can't help but let the sacred words slip from your lips as his eyes bore into yours.

"I love you." He looks away, a shaky sob from his lips making your heart ache as you rest your head on his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, so used to your physical affection in years past that it's just muscle memory at this point – despite his own reserved affections. You're surrounded by his scent, his warmth, him.

"I know it won't be easy. I've been gone for five years, and I've missed so much of your life. I know my apologies count for near nothing at this point, but you can't sincerely believe that I haven't yearned for you every step of my journey away." You're slightly muffled, feeling the metal of his necklace under his shirt as he holds you closer, tighter. He doesn't reply, so you keep going.

"I love you, Wonwoo. I'm sorry I didn't allow myself to feel it before, and I'm sorry that I've made you wait so long. I'll wait, as long as you need me to. As long as you want me to wait, even if I die waiting–" "I'd wait an eternity for you." He murmurs into your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"You shouldn't say that, Wonwoo." "But I did, and I will. I'd die waiting for you, if that's what it takes."

You sigh, pressing your forehead to his chest. "Are you still mad at me?" For the first time in years, you hear him laugh softly. Your arms tighten around his waist reflexively, a pout on your lips as you peer up at him. "I missed your laugh." He huffs, cheeks tinging pink as he avoids your gaze, carding his fingers through your hair. "I'm still mad at you. I bet you paid a shit load of money for a cab from the airport, didn't you? You could've just told me to come pick you up. I would've done it." "I wanted to surprise you." "Well…what about your apartment? I didn't even get to recommend this place, you probably went through some real estate guy–" "You're just grappling at things to be mad about, aren't you?" "No. I am mad." He grumbles, his lip jutted out in a pout as you smile up at him.

"You sure? Can't I change your mind, my good sir?" You wiggle your brows, and he scoffs, but you see the twitch of a smile on the corner of his lips. He tongues his cheek as your hands move to his face, making him look down at you. "I'm sorry, Wonwoo." He rolls his eyes, your hands squishing his cheeks together. "Prove it." You quirk a brow, "Prove…what?" "That you love me. Prove it." He shrugs, moving your hands off his face and letting them go at your sides. You scoff, gesturing to the air.

"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't that enough?" You cross your arms, a defiant look crossing your features as he sighs. His fingers are warm as they tuck a stray curl behind your ear, your skin prickling as he thumbs at your earlobe. "Of course it's enough." He mumbles, "You'll always be enough. More, even. More than enough for me."

You think he mumbles I love you.

Your face grows hot as he scans it, eyes heavy with purpose and love. For the first time, you allow yourself to realize how nervous Wonwoo makes you – your heart racing in your chest as you lean closer to him. He doesn't back away, his hand now gently holding your jaw. His thumb rests on the corner of your lip, the weight so comforting. "Kiss me." You do just that, your lips crashing into his as he steadies your body. Your hands fist his shirt as he kisses you slowly, walking you back into the bookshelf. Your back hits it gently, his hands cupping your face softly as he pulls away. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed as your fingers circled his wrists. "I missed you so much, sweetheart." "I missed you too, Wonwoo."

He struggles to bite back his smile, your lips pressing a chaste kiss to his before peppering them all over his face. "You can't stay mad at me forever, you know." You speak through kisses, his nose scrunching as you press your lips to it.

"I can certainly try. You know I can hold a mean grudge." "Mingyu ate your leftovers once, Wonwoo. He literally cooked for you everyday of college, you need to let it go." "You're taking his side? Some friend you are." He scoffs, his hands pushing your hair off your shoulders. You wrap your arms around his waist, your chin in the center of his chest as you pout up at him.

"I flew all this way, I confessed my love…and I'm your friend?" He tongues his cheek, swallowing his laughter as he shakes his head. "Well, no. A friend wouldn't leave me for five years and then suddenly show back up–" "Wonwoo." " –And expect me to just forgive her. You could at least try and get in my good graces." You huff, "So you hate me." "No, no. I'm very much in love with you, actually. However, though love is merciful…I am not as much. You said you'd wait." "Wonwoo–" "Ah, ah. You said you'd wait. So you will." He shrugs, running his hand through your hair. He twirls a piece around his finger, "I know that you know how I feel about you, from other people's minds and mouths. I think it's best if I get to show you, truthfully and openly. Don't you?" You say nothing just yet, choosing to stare up at him with a hint of worry in your eyes. He glances down, the hand in your hair coming to gently hold your jaw. "What if you realize you don't want me?" "Oh, sweetheart. I'd be a fool not to want you. Let the sky fall the day I make that stupid decision."

You sigh, moving to rest your cheek on his chest. He hums, running his fingertips across your scalp.

"It's not everyday you find a muse in someone the moment you meet them. Don't worry about me ever not wanting you, me ever not needing you." You don't reply, feeling your nose burn as your eyes fill with tears. He pats the back of your head, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Come, I need to take your picture. You need to fill the last few pages of that album."

And, you comply. You let him wipe your tears, pressing kisses to your eyelids as he sits you at his kitchen counter. He pulls out a gold candle from his kitchen drawer, sticking it in the cake slice from the restaurant and lighting it carefully. He pushes your hair back, and pulls the pendant of your necklace out to rest in the middle of your chest.

"Smile, sweetheart." He murmurs behind the camera, and you do. You smile, glossed lips swollen from the kisses, eyes full of stars as you stare at Wonwoo behind the flash. "Make a wish, quickly." You lean forward, closing your eyes when you see another flash behind your lids. Smiling to yourself, you blow the candle out, quickly taking it out of the cake slice. He offers a fork, and you lean on your elbows as he takes out a few bottles of soju.

"What'd you wish for?" He asks, unscrewing one of the lids off the bottles. You smirk around a bite of cake, shaking your head as he turns away to rummage for shot glasses.

"I'm not telling you, it won't come true." He scoffs, pulling out a set of shot glasses you'd given him during college. They have Snoopy and Woodstock doodled on the sides – he was always Woodstock, you were Snoopy.

"Oh, come on. Tell me, I'll make it come true." "What are you, a magician? Tell me what else I missed while I was gone." He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his lower lip as he slides the Snoopy glass over, filled to the brim with fresh soju. You take it carefully, and he raises a brow.

"Tell me your wish, Y/N." You huff, before reaching over to cheers your glass with his. You both knock back the liquor, and you scrunch your nose as you slide it back over to him. He fills it again, and you shift in your chair.

"If I tell you, you'll have to do it." "Stop being so ominous, I hate it when you do that."

He slides the glass back over, only half full as he sidles up next to you. Your hand instinctively wraps around his bicep, and you rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"Promise me you'll make it come true, Wonwoo." "I promise. It's your birthday, sweetheart. I'd bring down the stars if you asked."

– SIX WEEKS LATER: GOYANGI'S HOME, SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA.

Wonwoo had done exactly as you asked on your birthday – he kept his word, and tried his best to make your birthday wishes come true. Granted, you underestimated him: he would get both done within the six weeks it took to get your shop open.

After the two of you finished off the thick slice of chocolate cake, Wonwoo asked you to spend the night. You did, and a part of you held back tears as he held you in his arms – mumbling in his sleep. Mumbling about how he loved you, how long he'd waited…

How scared he was you'd slip away, like sand in an hourglass timer.

You'd spent the last month and a half glued at the hip. He took you to visit your parents early in the mornings, who bawled uncontrollably and demanded you'd stay all day. Wonwoo hadn't minded, and he stayed with you for dinner several times – and took many odd photos. He never showed you any of them, but he couldn't let you out of his sight, either.

He accompanied you to all your furniture shopping for the shop, he helped choose the paint, he even went as far as taking your website photos. Which, of course, included photos of you – in the kitchen, in your uniform, making a mess of flour and powdered sugar.

Powdered sugar that he kissed off your lips.

Because neither of you could go more than an hour without seeing each other, you practically moved into his apartment. You were spending almost every night there despite your own bed calling your name like a child does its mother. Wonwoo hadn't been kidding about making you wait, either. He let you kiss him, he told you he loved you, yes – but the dates were casual outings. Dinner, picnics, movies. You had a few game nights, and even went over to Hana's for drinks. You'd decided you were each other's plus ones for Mingyu and Tzuyu's wedding, and submitted such information on your RSVP placards.

You spent time together in copious amounts, something you couldn't ever find a fill of. You made him pastry after pastry, coffee cup after coffee cup, back massage after back massage to ease the tension in his shoulders. He gave you a silver necklace, a small letter W hanging from the center.

You wore it with pride. He didn't ask you to be his girlfriend, and he didn't let you ask any questions about it, either.

Instead, he made your birthday wishes come true – he asked the Museum of Arts if they still needed an exhibit for the season. When they said yes, he submitted his Hanging by a Moment gallery – with a few new additions. You'd loved it, and had proudly gone to the museum at least twice a week to see it.

Now?

You're both standing in your unopened shop, showing your parents everything. The walls are a muted terracotta with a few tangerine accents, to match the feel of the digital photos of your life through Wonwoo's eyes. You asked him to make copies of the photos for you as well, framing them in thick, gold frames.

All but one, that sat in the middle of them all on the wall. "And this is the final installment." He spoke to your parents softly, before gesturing to a photo split in the middle. One half was you, dressed in all black with the silver necklace he'd given you three weeks ago, and holding Wonwoo's digital camera up to your face. Your smile was peeking out from behind your hand, directed right at him.

And the other half was him. The only photo of him in the entire exhibit – of him holding his digital camera vertically against his face, slightly messy hair and a beige t-shirt that was two sizes too big for him but you loved anyway. You'd taken this photo at a street food stand, and he remembers how softly you kissed his cheek right after.

You stood next to him with a soft smile on your face as your father perused the photos, his eyes watery as he looked at the ones of you in college. Your smile, so young and carefree. Your eyes, full of the same shimmer and light you have now – but now, it's brighter. You seem lighter.

Happier.

You seem like you're home.

"What do you think?" You ask gently, wrapping your hand around Wonwoo's arm. He instinctively covers your hand with his, and your father nods.

"I think you're in love." He shrugs, and Wonwoo's cheeks flush almost instantly. You chuckle, squeezing your hand around Wonwoo's arm before patting his chest.

"I've got some new pastries in the oven, shall we? I'm trying a new recipe." You wiggle your brows at your parents, who both smile as you extend your hands to them. They take them gingerly, letting you guide them into the kitchen. You look over your shoulder, sending Wonwoo a quick wink as you slip inside with them.

And, Wonwoo knows.

He knows you love him, as he stands in this shop – named for him, by you. Walls covered in you, by him. He knows you love him as you smile warmly at him, your eyes sparkling in a way he'd only ever seen with him – never with Seungcheol, or Hansol, or Mingyu.

Just him.

So, what does it matter? The moment, why does it matter? Why not hang onto it, as long as he can? Why not take in every ounce of your light so long as you allow it, and reflect it right back to you? Why not be a mirror of your love, a beacon of the same hope you hold, a star in the sky that also tells you there is something to wish upon?

Why waste it, when he can savor it – the way you look at him, the way you kiss him, touch him, the way you make him feel? How he's gone absolutely mad just looking at you in the mornings, slowly waking up by his side, burying your face into his bare chest? Why waste the moment when he can capture it – your smiles, your tears, the way you cover your face shyly when he compliments you.

Why not live in the moment – the feeling of your lips against his, the way you claw his shirt off, the way you whimper beneath him while fully clothed and untouched? Why not live in the moment, where he gets to hear you laugh like no one's listening, watch you dance like there is no tomorrow? Why not, when you ask him to take the long way home and roll the windows down, singing along to his playlist and feeling the air whip your hair around until your face is frosty from the wind.

Why not live in this moment – when you're so irrevocably in love with him, and he doesn't have to ever question it because you don't even need to tell him? Where you've related him to a cat that always finds its way back home, where you're supposedly the home and you are – but you are also the cat that finds her way home all on her own?

Why not? "Wonwoo? Are you listening?" "Huh? Sorry." He rubs his neck sheepishly, before noticing he's sitting at the bar of your shop, a dulce de leche éclair sitting on a plate in front of him. Your parents are in the corner, holding their own pastries and analyzing the photos once more. You're leaning your back on the bar next to him, your elbows holding you up as you reach over and gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"I said, I love you." "Now, why does it sound like you're scheming? Tell me what you really said." "It is, promise." You chuckle, your hand coming to pinch his cheek softly. He frowns, only making you coo up at him as you brush your lips to his. He glances up quickly, seeing your parents still enthralled by the photo of you and Mingyu at the waterfalls all those years ago. He looks back down, seeing you absently scanning his face as your thumb continues to rub circles into his face.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, before your father turns around and clears his throat. You look over your shoulder lazily, and your father has the pastry plates in his hand. "Your mother and I are going to start heading out now, honey. We've got a long drive back, and I'm sure you want to clean up a bit around here before your big opening tomorrow." "You're right, Dad. Thank you for coming, I'm glad you two could be the first to see it." Your voice is so warm, he can feel all the stress from his days just melting right off him as you walk your parents to the front. He follows suit, lingering behind as you and your parents say your goodbyes. He interjects his own, enveloping both of your parents in a hug before pulling away. You both wave as they get into their car, your mother waving back as they pull into the street and all the way down the road, before their car turns out of sight.

You turn around, your arms crossed as you look up.

"Goyangi's Home. What a name, isn't it?" You sigh, before glancing over at Wonwoo. He shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your giggle is like music to his ears as your hands rest on his chest, your lip tucked beneath your teeth as you look up at him.

"Well, you're home, aren't you?" "Aren't you, Wonwoo?"

"I am. I love you, you know."

He feels his chest ache in the best way possible, his heart beating twice as fast as you wrinkle your nose at him.

"I know. I love you, honey." So it's fine. It's fine, as Wonwoo lets you kiss his lips once, twice, three times before you slip back into the shop. It's fine, as Wonwoo walks in behind you, his fingers locking the front door so no one mistakes the shop as open. It's fine, as you hand him a broom and make him sweep the shop while you roll out the dough in the back, your hands coated in flour when he comes to steal a kiss.

Or two, or three – until you're pushed against the industrial fridge, his hands wrapped around your thighs as yours tangle in his hair. He doesn't care about the flour. He doesn't care that you'll both be here late to roll out the stupid dough, he doesn't care as long as you're with him.

He doesn't care about the time differences anymore. The kilometers of distance, the aches of missing you. He doesn't care, and he'd do it ten times over just to be worthy of you.

He doesn't care about how pathetic he might sound as he kisses down your neck, begging you to be his girlfriend, begging you to never, ever leave him again.

He doesn't care about all the painful moments he used to hang onto, because you are the best moment to ever capture.

He cares when you promise that you'll never leave him again, your lips soft against the shell of his ear. He cares when you say yes, you'll be his girlfriend. You'll be anything he wants, for as long as he wants it. So yeah, he'll live in this moment. He'll keep it, hold it, cherish it forever as more whispers float off your lips to one another. I love you.

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kannouo · 7 months ago

Text

Cold hands/feet

fandom: obey me pairing: demon bros & dateables x gn!reader warnings: none prompt by anon: stumbled upon your blog and just read your hcs about the obey me guys and halloween, your writing is lovely and fun<3 ! i was thinking, how do you think the obey me bros + dateables would react with a mc whose hands and feet get easily cold? like 'dawg who let this corpse out the morgue 💀' typa cold. and even if they wear socks or gloves, it never seems to help much. instead, it turns into cold sweat so now it just feels like touching a defrosting chicken (projecting on this one) anyways, hope you're having a lovely day/night. enjoy your next 24 hours :] A/N: ty for the request and the kind words <33 this was funny to write for as i actually have the opposite problem myself, i run really warm. some of these are considerably shorter than others, sorry.

LUCIFER

• Lucifer isn't a very touchy person. That and he usually wears gloves, so he'll take a much longer time to notice how cold your hands get than you might expect. The first time he notices would have to be when you initiate affection yourself, and he's in the right mood to just sit back and let you touch him.

• You're sat facing him on his lap and move your hand up to gently caress his face. It was just meant to be a sweet gesture, and it certainly wasn't anything to provoke him to jerk his head away in momentary surprise.

• "Lucifer?" You say his name, a little concerned at his reaction. He was just staring at your hands.

• "You're freezing," he stated, then met your eyes again. "Is the fireplace not warm enough for you?"

• Until you explain it's just naturally how your hands feel, he will assume that the House of Lamentation is somehow still too cold for a human, and that you, for some reason, neglected to tell him this whole time. Even when he understands the situation, he's still likely to bump up the temperature on the thermostat just in case.

• You might have felt hurt by his initial reaction to literally move away from your touch, but he reassures you he was just surprised. He doesn't actually mind it, he just wasn't sure if that was how human hands were supposed to feel.

• That, and Lucifer runs cold too. Even colder than you. You're unlikely to notice early in your relationship due to the gloves, but he perpetually feels like he's been out in the cold for far too long. You ask if it's "a demon thing" and he gives you a strange look.

• For all I've said about him not minding, do not put your cold ass feet on him if you're in bed together. You'll lose your Lucifer's bed privileges until you can prove to him you've learned from your actions and promise not to do it again.

It's a surprisingly peaceful evening in the House of Lamentation. You sit with your DDD in hand in front of the fireplace, mindlessly scrolling through your socials when you suddenly feel something freezing touch the back of your neck. You lurch forward in shock, rubbing the afflicted area as you spin your head around to catch the culprit. There stands Lucifer, a pleased smirk on his face as he casually fits his glove back on his right hand. "Lucifer!" In a split-second decision, you jump up from the couch and begin to chase after him, hand outstretched. If it's a war he wants, then it's a war he'll get.

MAMMON

• Notices pretty early on. If he still hadn't developed feelings for you by the time he noticed, he'd likely react a little too dramatically and make some sort of comment about how your hands feel like ice and will threaten you not to touch him again.

• He deeply regrets that choice of words later on though. Even if you are cold enough to make a weirdly convincing dead body, that doesn't mean he wants your affection and attention any less, but it's not like he'll tell you that straight up. He'll try to get you to start touching him again with vague (or what he thinks are vague) hints and just hope you catch on and give him what he wants.

• If you don't, he'll frustrated eventually. Will literally grab your hands and place them on his face so you're cupping his cheeks, grumbling the whole time about how stupid you are and how he has to do everything for you.

• "I thought you didn't want me to touch you again." You smile, running your fingers through his hair. He sputtered.

• "W—well, that—" He huffed and bit the inside of his cheek, shooting you a half-hearted glare. "—Whatever! That was a long time ago. Things change! And— I mean, I'm sure you've been wantin' to touch me this whole time, right? I'm just... bein' considerate."

• It's best not to call his bluff. He'll get embarrassed and pouty.

• Like Lucifer, is also lowkey concerned for your health, and isn't sure if it's normal or okay for humans to be so freezing all the time. He'll still complain all the same when the thermostat is turned up and tries his best to find a workaround, like buying you fuzzy socks and gloves to keep you warm instead so the temperature can go back down.

• Obviously, this doesn't work and just makes your hands and feet cold and sweaty. He concedes that he'll just have to deal with it.

• A perfect target for pranks using this. Suddenly shove your hands up his shirt or place your feet on his bare legs. He has such dramatic and whiny reactions but ultimately won't do anything about it — denying you affection is far more of a punishment for him than it is for you.

You sit, confused, as Mammon holds both of your hands in his. He cups them together and breathes into them, then rubs them against each other like you would do to keep yourself warm in a freezing climate. The only problem is, you're in a room with several functioning heaters. "...What are you doing?" You finally ask. He glances up at you, then goes right back to what he was doing. "I'm tryin' to help you," he says. "This'll warm ya right up, won't it? Then Lucifer can turn the thermostat back down. I'm basically boilin' alive in here!" That definitely isn't how this technique works, but... he seems too determined to stop now.

LEVIATHAN

• Same.

• Levi's hands are usually pretty clammy, but they're also always cold. If Lucifer's hands are "been outside for too long" cold, then Levi's are "freezing death-grip" cold. He doesn't even really notice it, as the rest of his body runs equally as chilly.

• It's an understatement to say Levi isn't all that into touch. It makes him extremely nervous, and the most he'll ever be able to muster without panicking internally is resting his head on your shoulder or intertwining your pinkie fingers together. Because of that, he either takes a very long time to realise or just doesn't at all.

• It's also pretty difficult for him to discern how cold your hands are when they're against his skin, which is just as frigid.

• He's unlikely to notice on his own. He'd only really figure it out if one of his brothers made a comment about your hands being freezing cold that he happened to overhear. Afterwards, he'd ask you if it was true, and would just nod and be like "huh" when you explain. Overall he doesn't care, because he can't even tell.

• Since you don't run cold in the same way he does, it still startles you whenever he puts an unexpected hand on your shoulder. It'll take some time for him to believe you when you say you only react like that because of the shock, and at first he ends up feeling bad and locking himself in his room whenever you jump away from his touch.

"Levi..." You frown, kneeling down in front of the Avatar of Envy, who is curled up and hiding his face from you. "You just surprised me, that's all..." You really hadn't intended to upset him. He tapped you on the arm to get your attention and the sudden chill made you flinch a little, that's all. But he seems to have taken it in the worst possible way. "N—no, I get it..." Levi says with that same defeated tone you were so used to from his self-deprecating monologues. "O—of course you wouldn't want to be touched by an ugly, yucky otaku like me..." "Levi, come on..."

SATAN

• Satan realised by pure chance. In the library together, you walked alongside him as he chattered away about any books he thought you might enjoy. Pulling one out from the nearest shelf, he handed it to you, telling you to read the blurb and tell him what you thought. You unintentionally brushed your hand against his as you did so.

• He didn't react immediately, waiting for you to finish skimming over the back of the book. Only then did he bring it up. "Are you cold?"

• Confused, you replied. "What?"

• "Your hands feel cold," he said. "If you are, I could lend you my jacket? I don't want you getting sick."

• As tempting and sweet as that offer was, you shook your head and explained your hands were just like that. To that, he nodded his head, apologised for assuming anything, and then proceeded to insist you take his jacket anyway. It's a romantic fantasy of his.

• He absolutely tries to buy you gloves, thicker socks and/or shoes. He's confused but understanding when you say they don't really work, and honestly doesn't mind as long as you reassure him the coldness of your hands and feet doesn't really bother you. He just doesn't want your hands to be achy and stiff all the time.

• Otherwise, he doesn't mind it. He'll hold your hand, kiss the back of your palm and allow you to be affectionate with him all the same. He might try to encourage you to shove your hands up Lucifer's shirt though. Just once.

• Don't do it to him though. Demon form instantly.

• Surprisingly, Satan usually doesn't care much about feeling your cold feet on him if you're cuddling together either, but it might irritate him if he feels it in the middle of the night when he's too tired to be fully logical.

"Satan, there's no way I'm doing that," you say as you stare down the demon in front of you, unimpressed. "He'll kill me." "He'd kill me, not you." You roll your eyes as you realise Satan clearly isn't giving up on trying to convince you to 'prank' Lucifer by shoving your hands up his shirt. With the amount of layers the first-born has, you aren't even sure if you'd be able to if you tried. "...If you do it, I'll take you to that cat cafe you liked." You eye him suspiciously. "...The one with Luna?" "The one with Luna."

ASMODEUS

• Asmo runs pretty warm. He has to, with how he spends hours out clubbing in the cold climate of the Devildom wearing as close to nothing as he can possibly get without being accused of public indecency. So you being cold to the touch is a bit of a shock to him.

• He had been begging you to let him do your nails all day until you finally caved. But just as he took your hand in his, he hesitated. "Darling, you're freezing. Why is that? My windows are all closed."

• "Oh... no, my hands are always like that."

• He pouted. "Poor thing. Well, once I'm done with your nails, how about you spend the rest of the day holding hands with dear old Asmo, hm? That should warm you right up! ♡"

• Insist all you want that it doesn't bother you or that you can't even feel it, he'll just act like he doesn't hear so he can continue to use it as an excuse to be all over you.

• It actually isn't that bad though. Being naturally warm, pressing your hold hands against his skin actually feels super nice, and he's always the one initiating it. He's impossible to scare by randomly putting your hands on him, too. He'll just react with a smile and a dirty comment.

• He'll buy or fashion fingerless gloves for you to try in the hopes it might be a little less suffocating than ones that cover your whole hand. They do work a little better, but you may or may not find them uncomfortable depending on your preferences.

• He keeps asking you to touch his back because he likes how your cold fingers feel against his skin, but only do so if you're prepared for him to let out a very exaggerated moan to embarrass you. Can and will do that shit in public.

You lean against Asmo, one hand under his shirt and resting against his side and the other clasped in his own. Every now and again he ducks his head down to place a kiss against your knuckles before resting his head back on your shoulder. The quiet added to the rare peaceful and serene moment, but just as you let your body relax... "Asmo!" You snatch your hand away when you felt him start to move your wrist further down his body. He giggles as you shove at his shoulder. "Honestly! You're insatiable! I'm leaving!" "No, no! Baby I'm sorryyy!~"

BEELZEBUB

• When Beel feels your cold hands brush up against him for the first time, he doesn't even ask questions in the moment. He straight-up drops his jacket on you right away and apologises when you nearly tumble to the ground from the weight of it.

• Beel is another one who will be very concerned. From what he's heard, humans emit natural body heat, and he's only ever heard humans be described as "cold to the touch" when they've been out in bad weather for too long or if they're dead. And he knows for a fact you've been inside all day, so... Are you dying, MC?

• He tries to believe you when you say it's natural and nothing to be so worried about, but he just can't help it. His hands are calloused and rough from centuries of playing sports, so he's hardly bothered by the chill of yours and will just hold them whenever he can to try and "warm you up".

• Is convinced that eating warm food and drinking hot beverages will help. Even if you don't actually feel cold, he might still insist you drink the hot chocolate because he's uneasy.

• He's overprotective by nature. If you can get him to loosen up and stop fretting, he'll apologise for having worried so much. He doesn't want you to be annoyed with him for overreacting about something you're so used to and consider totally normal.

• Is totally fine with you placing your hands or feet on him. He doesn't even react most of the time. You're convinced he can't feel it.

"Beel, honestly, I'm fine..." "But..." He glances between you and the cup of tea in his hands. He can't look at the drink for too long though, or he starts to feel the urge to chug it himself. He can't do that — it's supposed to be for you. "Please? A hot drink is always best on a cold day." "We're in a heatwave..." You sigh, unable to argue any further. Giving in, you take the cup from his hands. "Fine, I'll drink it. But I'm telling you, there really is nothing wrong."

BELPHEGOR

• To be blunt, he isn't a fan.

• He's been right on the cusp of falling asleep only to be startled awake by your freezing hands and feet touching him as you crawl into bed way too many times. He isn't against you cuddling him completely — you're still a good cuddle-buddy, in a "cold side of the pillow" way — but he would like you to keep your hands above his clothes and your feet to yourself. Thanks.

• Aside from Mammon, he's also likely to complain about the thermostat temperature being turned up by Lucifer, which in turn causes Beel to complain on his behalf. He keeps waking up after long naps all sweaty and hot... eugh.

• On the bright side, him being too warm means he'll suddenly switch up on your cold hands. Suddenly, he loves the feeling of them against his skin, and needs you by his side to cool him down while he sleeps.

• Joins Satan in encouraging you to shove your hands up Lucifer's shirt. Do it. Just once. Unfortunately for Satan however, Belphie is a little traitor, and will also go behind his back to tell you to do it to him right after.

• A complete hypocrite. If you pull the same stunt on him he'll make the most exaggerated pouting face you've ever seen and go complain to Beel about you. If you look at him while he's doing so, he'll give you a shit-eating smirk when Beel isn't looking.

• Gets you matching fuzzy socks. He knows they don't really work in keeping your feet warm throughout the day, but asks you to at least keep them on when you two cuddle, so you can match with him and he can avoid any rude awakenings.

The fourth-born had been absent for not five seconds when Belphie scoots over on the couch to whisper in your ear. "When Satan comes back," he pauses, stifling a yawn. "Shove your hands up his shirt. Like you're going to do to Lucifer." You give him a look. "Why would I do that?— And I never agreed to do it to Lucifer." "It'll be funny," he grins lazily. "Look, he's coming back. If you don't do it, I'll grab your wrists and do it for you, you know..."

DIAVOLO

• Diavolo doesn't just run warm, he runs hot. Almost uncomfortably so. Never expect to be able to cuddle with this guy without getting sweaty.

• When he first feels your cold hands, he either assumes humans are just naturally so frigid or goes the Lucifer route and does everything he can to increase the temperature of RAD and the palace to prevent you from being so cold. After one absolutely sweltering day at RAD, you asked Diavolo what was going on and why it was suddenly so blisteringly hot.

• "I raised the temperature as much as I could to make it more comfortable for you!" He flashed you a big, proud smile. "Come now, let me feel your hands. It should be better for you now, yes?"

• "Ah... why are they still cold?"

• He means well, really, but he's very confused. He becomes more understanding once it's explained to him and thankfully turns the temperature back down. You swore all of your classmates were seconds away from murdering one another just from the humidity alone.

• It's not like you have the guts to do it anyway — and if you did, Barbatos would stop you — but in case you were curious, he also doesn't react to the feeling of you suddenly putting your hands on him. Like Asmo, he actually thinks the chill of your fingers is quite nice.

• He might offer to hold your hands in his whenever you're sat next to him because he's fully aware of how warm he is in comparison to you. It warms you up and feels pretty good.

RAD student council meetings are usually quite dull. Unless they were in preparation for some kind of event, in which case you could expect the opposite problem — all the brothers would be bickering amongst themselves so loudly that it felt like all the energy had been drained out of you by the time you returned home. Today, however, was on the quiet end of things, and you were just waiting for it to be over. You sit next to Diavolo, cheek resting on your hand as you idly tap the table with the eraser end of your pencil. "MC." He nudges you a little. Your head shoots up, momentarily afraid he had realised you were zoning out, but he meets you with a smile and offers you his hand. Wordlessly, you place your free hand in his and he gently clasps his fist around it. Student council meetings are dull, but at least you have Diavolo to share little moments like these with.

BARBATOS

• Another man with gloves here. He knew about your cold hands from listening to the others or observing the jokes you'd play on them using it, but he's unlikely to have any personal experiences with them until much later.

• He honestly doesn't care that much. However, if you feel your hands starting to ache or go stiff, he'll hold them in his own and breathe into them to warm them up. Either that or he'll give you his own gloves for a period of time. They're already warm from him using them, so it's actually pretty nice.

• Is one of the only demons to be reasonable about it. Everybody thank Barbatos.

• Won't interfere with you suddenly putting your hands on anyone or shoving your hands up their shirt, unless it's Diavolo, obviously. He thinks their reactions are amusing. It isn't even worth trying to do to him though, he's impossible to catch off-guard. That, and his hands are also pretty cold, so he can and will do it right back.

• Encourages you to do it to Solomon and will protect you from the sorcerer's wrath afterwards.

• Not to repeat myself, but once you two further your relationship a little more, you'll discover he also quite likes the feeling of your hands on him. He isn't one to show it physically, but he'll let you know how pleasant he finds it if he's in an affectionate mood.

• Not a very cuddly person — mostly because he just never has time for it — but on the rare instance you two cuddle, he won't care much about you placing your feet on him but will pretend like he's mad about it to tease you. He'll get up and refuse to return until you literally beg for forgiveness, at which point he smiles and tells you he never truly minded, but since you asked so nicely he'll come back to the couch with you.

Spotting Barbatos in the kitchen completely focused on his baking would usually be a sign to leave him alone as to not distract him. But for you? No, it was the perfect opportunity to strike. He didn't look up as you enter the kitchen and sneak up behind him, and just when you think you may finally have the upper hand— —He grabs your wrists before you can land your hands on his skin and meets you with a smile. "Ah, MC." You pout, but he isn't moved. "How nice of you to join. Since you clearly aren't up to anything important, how about you lend a hand by fetching me some ingredients?" ...Mission failed.

SIMEON

• I have to imagine that Simeon knows a little more about the human body than most of the demons. So when he holds your hand for the first time, his first thought isn't "they could be hypothermic," it's just "oh, they have cold hands."

• He honestly doesn't mind or even really say anything about it. The most he'll do is lend you his coat on a colder day and tell you to hide your hands inside the sleeves to keep them warm — but then he's just left in that revealing body-suit thing he has, so he gets freezing instead.

• Simeon is a pretty affectionate person, so if you try to stop yourself from directly touching him too much because you know your hands are freezing, he won't be pleased.

• He places your hands back on his face, tilting his head to plant a kiss on your palm. "How much will it take to convince you I enjoy your touch?"

• To be honest, that's a pretty dangerous question to leave entirely up to you, but do what you will with it.

• You know how his shoulders and hips are completely bare for some reason? If you walk up behind him and trace a finger along his shoulder or just grab onto his hips, he jumps and does this cute shiver. He won't scold you for it, but he does get embarrassed and quiet if you do it in front of other people.

"Simeon?" You tap the back of his head. It's still early in the morning, yes, but you have to get up soon. Lucifer would have your head if you two miss a day of RAD, but your angel seems particularly sleepy this morning, as nothing seems to be waking him at all. He was the last person you would expect to have this sort of problem with... "Simeon..." You lower your hand and place your palm on his shoulder, watching him shudder from the cold. "Get up." Finally, you see him blink. He looks up at you, a yawn on his lips as he speaks. "Good morning..."

SOLOMON

• He has a spell for that.

• No, I'm serious, he does.

• It's up to you whether or not you trust this mystery concoction he gives you and tells you to drink because it will, somehow, make your body run warmer. He reassures you it's supposed to be a dark purple. It's nothing to worry about. Believe me.

• For the sake of these headcanons, I'm going to assume you have any sense of self-preservation and don't take drinks from strange wizards.

• Solomon's hands are very cold as well, but he insists they used to be warm when he was younger. You think, perhaps it's symbolic of him slowly leaving his humanity behind as the centuries go on? Either way, you both are menaces.

• If the brothers thought you were bad with shoving your hands up their shirt, wait until Solomon gets in the mix. He'll use magic to somehow enhance the freezing cold of his hands and make them shriek because it's so cold it stings. At least they love you enough to let you get away with it, though. I cannot say the same about Solomon.

• He's banned from the House of Lamentation because he had the bright idea of trying to do it to Lucifer. Any chance of making a pact with him is thrown out the window. Good job.

• It's a bad idea to try doing it to Solomon for the sole reason he will not stop until he gets his revenge — and like I said, he'll make his hands so freezing they hurt to have against your skin. Your best bet is to go to Barbatos for protection because, again, he thinks it's amusing, and his millennium-long grudge on Solomon has still not fully dissipated.

"...What happened?" You blink up at the sorcerer in front of you, who is dangling upside-down from a tree just outside the House of Lamentation. From the ropes hanging him there by his legs, you guess it must have been Lucifer's doing. He gives you a sheepish smile. "Well, since you were hesitant to do Satan and Belphie's prank on Lucifer..." Your eyes widen as you realise what he's talking about. Surely he didn't— "So, I did it instead." "..." "My lovely apprentice will let me down, won't you? Ah— w-wait, hold on! Don't leave me here!"

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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pirateprincessblog · 9 months ago

Text

cosmos

18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.

🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)

🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧�� 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."

"come on, you piece of shit."

"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."

"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"

if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.

however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.

once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.

"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"

he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.

they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.

but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.

now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.

an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.

until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.

his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?

yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.

he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?

yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.

they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.

he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.

his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.

"good evening, sir. ready to order?"

yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.

"what are you?" he finally speaks.

"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"

yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.

"made for our service, right?"

"indeed, sir."

"then, can you activate my pod again?"

"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."

the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.

"it's just a few buttons."

"i'm sorry sir, but-"

"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.

"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."

"bullshit."

"perhaps the young lady can help."

yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.

"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.

the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.

"you." he says through gritted teeth.

"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.

"i don't want to know your fucking name."

"w-what?"

yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.

"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"

"do not talk about my mother."

"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"

"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.

tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?

"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"

"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"

"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"

you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.

"right." he scoffs.

"you think he would lie to me?"

"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."

you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.

"that's what i thought."

"but... why would they let us board?"

"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.

you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.

"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.

"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"

yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"

"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."

yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"about three weeks."

"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"

you laugh, "more like three years."

"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"

you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.

"i have."

"and?"

"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."

silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.

"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"

he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.

"i can try."

yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.

soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.

"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.

he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.

you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.

"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.

"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"

"y/n."

"beautiful." he compliments.

"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.

"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.

you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.

"shit."

he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"

"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."

"oh. alright, i hope you find it."

"it should be on the main screen."

after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.

"yeosang?"

"yes?"

"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."

yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.

"help me out."

a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.

"yeosang?"

you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.

"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"

"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"

you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.

"my lord."

he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.

"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."

"you say it like it's easy."

"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."

you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.

"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you can see outside?"

"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."

you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"

"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."

he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.

"let's go."

yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.

"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"

"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.

"let's stick to short for now."

"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."

the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.

"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."

the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.

"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.

yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.

"so, the cockpit?"

"woah, take me to dinner first."

as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.

"so he makes all the food too?"

"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."

he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.

"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."

when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.

"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."

"sounds nice."

you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.

"where did you get that?"

"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."

the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.

"uh..."

"trust me. take my hand."

everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.

he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.

"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.

"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"

"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."

you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."

"do you think anyone lives down there?"

you shrug, not having thought about it.

"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."

it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.

"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."

"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.

"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"

"yeosang!"

almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.

"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."

"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.

"they can... hear you?"

"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."

"understandable."

using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.

"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."

"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"

"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."

he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.

"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.

it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.

"this one."

"you sure?"

"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."

"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."

he nods, still taking in the room.

"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."

"wow, you've really done some exploring."

"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."

"thank you, y/n."

a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.

"yes?"

"are you awake?"

"now i am."

"sorry."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.

"what is it?"

"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.

"three in the morning."

"oh."

you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"

"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."

"then... go to the gym?"

"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"

"ah, the library"

"there's a library?!"

"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"

his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.

"sure."

"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.

"sure, if you don't mind."

"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."

it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.

the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.

you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.

light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.

yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.

"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.

you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.

you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.

by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.

"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.

"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.

the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.

"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"

"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."

"ah, i never watched it."

"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."

yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."

"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."

you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.

"is that okay?"

"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.

he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."

"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.

"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"

"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"

"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.

you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?

"need help getting up?"

"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."

"you'll catch a cold. come here."

without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.

"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."

"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."

"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"

"fine."

you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.

"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.

your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.

"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"

"i guess, yeah."

"good girl."

before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.

"does it hurt?" he whispers.

"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.

"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."

it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.

"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."

"alright, then. eight tonight?"

"sounds good. got your card?"

he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."

"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.

"ditto."

you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.

eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.

yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.

"don't you look handsome." you smile.

he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.

"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."

"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."

he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?

"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.

"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."

"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."

yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."

"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.

"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."

"will do, sir."

two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.

"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.

he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.

"yes, miss?"

"put on some music, please."

"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"

"play something by elvis."

even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.

but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.

"you smell nice." he compliments softly.

you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."

"macadamia?"

"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."

"i like it. better than my old spice supply."

it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.

"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."

your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.

"a discovery?"

"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.

"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.

he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.

"wait, the card! i left it on the table."

yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.

you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.

"i'll put you down now."

he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.

"can i have the card please?"

you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.

finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.

he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."

"that's right, poke the weak."

"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."

you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"

"why, too lazy?"

"maybe."

yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.

"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"

a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.

your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.

"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.

you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.

the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.

you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.

"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.

no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.

"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"

"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.

he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.

"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."

"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."

you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.

"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."

you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.

"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.

"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.

"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.

"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"

"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"

yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.

"what is it?"

"you look like a penguin."

"yeah, well, so do you."

"i know. you just look cute."

he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.

"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."

"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.

"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."

"you're the one to talk! you always-"

"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."

"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.

he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."

you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.

"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"

"yes."

"can you hear me?"

"duh."

"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.

"ah, yes. i can."

"good. i hope you don't have to pee."

"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."

"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."

yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.

"pressure stabilized."

"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.

with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.

just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.

"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"

"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."

"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.

"ow! hey, what, what?!"

"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"

"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."

"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."

"i believe you."

"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."

with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.

"i'll let go now, alright?"

"what if we drift away?"

"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."

you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.

"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."

"i'm scared."

"you want to go back?"

"no."

"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."

you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.

"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."

due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.

"look, down there." he points to the side.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"

it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center.

"it's a nebula." he simply says.

"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."

"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."

"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."

"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."

"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.

both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.

"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"

"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."

"sorry," you smile sheepishly.

"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.

"not yet."

"want to go a bit furth-"

a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.

one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.

"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.

the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.

"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.

but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.

"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."

"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.

"no!"

your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.

it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."

you couldn't have known, yeosang.

"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."

there was no way for you to know, yeosang.

"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."

don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.

"you don't deserve this, i do."

if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.

"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"

you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.

"none of it makes sense without you."

you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.

"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."

i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.

kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.

"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.

there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.

"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."

already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.

"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"

"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."

"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."

"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."

"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."

"and what does that make me?"

"you can be my queen hand."

"not your king consort?"

"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."

"whatever you say, your grace."

yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.

now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.

he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.

"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"

he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.

"can you hear me?"

your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.

when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.

the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.

hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.

he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.

yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes.

"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"

the man steps back, recognizing your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.

he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.

"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"

"i'm fine. a little dizzy."

"i thought i lost you."

not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.

"how dare you leave me alone?"

"is that a way to speak to your queen?"

he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.

you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.

he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.

his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.

gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.

his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.

"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.

"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"

"no, you can- oh."

you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.

the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.

you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.

him, all of him.

a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.

"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.

your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.

he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.

you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.

he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.

"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.

"yes?"

"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.

"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."

the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.

"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."

"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.

"i'm so sorry for what i did."

"don't apologize."

"i will. you almost died because of me."

"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.

he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.

yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.

"please?"

"what do you beg for, pretty?"

"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."

"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."

it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.

tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.

he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.

you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.

your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.

unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.

"that's a good girl," he whispers.

you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.

"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.

"i want it just like this. me on top."

"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."

"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."

"that's my girl."

driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.

the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.

you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.

the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.

"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."

such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.

"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."

your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.

"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.

but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.

"my love..." he moans.

"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.

"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.

"my queen of cosmos."

the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.

the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.

the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.

yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.

or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.

"i love you."

"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.

the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.

today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.

"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."

"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.

"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"

"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."

and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.

"is the rose too much, ryan?"

"depends on the occasion, sir."

"let's say... proposal."

"i believe it is too little, sir."

"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."

ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.

"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.

"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."

yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"

"it's what started your new fate."

"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."

"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."

yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"

"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."

"what?"

"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"

"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.

"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"

"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."

"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."

a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.

you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.

he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.

"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.

"don't."

"b-but-"

"do. not."

"you have to understand- i- i was just-"

his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."

"yeosang, please."

"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."

"please, understand me!"

"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"

pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.

"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.

you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.

it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.

days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.

you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.

today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.

you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?

you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.

the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.

you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.

he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.

upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.

"thank you." you whisper.

he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"

"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."

he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."

a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.

"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.

"no, the moment is gone now."

"want me to repeat it?"

you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.

"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."

"terrarium. i need... fresh air."

"i was headed there too."

"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.

"you don't have to. come here."

before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.

after the life you stole from him.

"i can hear you thinking."

"sorry."

"stop apologizing."

"okay, sorry."

he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."

"uh... sorry?"

for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.

"i understand." he starts.

"you don't have to-"

"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"

"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.

"angelic?"

"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."

he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.

"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"

yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.

"i'm sorry."

"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"

"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."

"but, yeosang-"

"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."

"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."

"i love you too, princess. say..."

"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.

"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."

you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.

"i can't believe you had it right here."

"had what?" you shove it into his hand.

"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.

you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.

"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"

"i will, my queen hand."

🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)

@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed

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luxerians · 3 months ago

Text

The Last Mask (10)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 10 - Round and Round

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 11

PREV : Chapter 09

You woke to the sound of that dreaded classical music. It had become a signal you hated. It was a reminder that another game awaited you this morning. And in this place, games weren’t for fun.

The bright lights flicked on suddenly. You squinted against the glare, trying to shake off the heaviness of sleep. Around you, players began to stir, and the familiar voice of the announcer filled the dormitory:

“The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and prepare.”

You stretched on the mattress, letting out a quiet groan, when someone bumped into your back. Turning your head, you saw Gi-hun emerging from his sleeping spot beneath the bed. His eyes, half-lidded with sleep, widened when he realized what he’d done. He quickly scooted back, muttering slurred apologies as he rubbed his face.

Sitting up, you glanced around. The dormitory was alive with the sounds of people rising and shifting. Dae-ho’s gruff murmurs mingled with the rustling of blankets as Jung-bae and Jun-hee began to stir from their spots behind you. Across from you, Young-il sat still, his gaze fixed on you. His face was unreadable at first, but then a small smile played on his lips.

“Sorry,” he said, his tone casual as his eyes lingered on your sleepy expression. “I didn’t wake you on purpose. Ladies should get enough rest.”

You blinked at him, realizing immediately what he was doing. He was covering for you, making sure no one questioned why you hadn’t kept your promised watch.

“Good call, Young-il,” drawled Jung-bae, his torso halfway out of his sleeping spot as he gave Jun-hee space to rise. He looked as though he might collapse back into sleep at any moment.

All of you got up and left your group’s sleeping area, trudging towards the clear center of the dormitory. You rubbed your face groggily, trying to shake off the heaviness of sleep, as you followed behind the others.

As you walked, you felt a gentle brush against your ear. Startled, you turned your head, your innocent, wide-eyed gaze landing on Young-il. He walked beside you as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear with his left hand. The gesture was unassuming, yet it sent a ripple through your chest.

You gave him a bashful, warm smile, your heart flipping at the casual intimacy of it. He smiled back. Neither of you spoke. Turning your attention forward, you continued walking. Despite your calm demeanor, on the inside, it felt like fireworks were going off. Your stomach fluttered, a ridiculous amount of butterflies threatening to burst free. You couldn’t help but feel an urge to express this overwhelming affection, even if it meant something silly like biting him out of pure love aggression.

Your thoughts were cut short when you glanced to the side. Lee Min-jae and his friends were making their way towards the center as well. Min-jae’s gaze was locked on you, his eyes darting briefly between you and Young-il. Then he nodded, a dark understanding flickering across his face, his expression tinged with something that felt unsettling – vengeful, too.

You quickly looked away, pretending you hadn’t seen him. Instead, you focused on the path ahead, instinctively moving closer to Young-il.

All of you were led out of the dormitory and into the labyrinthine halls of the massive staircase complex. With every step, your nerves grew sharper. Another game awaited that will decide you either live or die. The uncertainty was suffocating. What if it was a game you didn’t know? What if you weren’t good at it? Worse, what if it was a game that forced you against your own groupmates?

Gi-hun led your group at the front. Behind him was Jung-bae, then you, with Young-il just a step behind you. Jun-hee trailed close behind, while Dae-ho took up the rear. Just behind your group was the mother’s team, with her son, Hyun-ju, and player 095.

Eventually, you and the rest of the players were herded into a large room where a white curtain blocked your view of what lay beyond. Four triangle-masked guards stood at the forefront, their weapons at the ready. A tense silence fell over the crowd as everyone shuffled into place.

Once all players were gathered, the white curtains began to slide open. You rose on your tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of what awaited on the other side. The announcer’s calm, detached voice filled the space:

“Welcome to your third game.”

The sight before you was unlike anything you had imagined. The room was circular, resembling an arena, with a central platform that looked like a carousel. Ornate horse sculptures decorated the platform, and colorful doors lined the walls in evenly spaced intervals. The doors were adorned with lights, bows, and intricate patterns, creating a surreal carnival atmosphere that felt disturbingly out of place.

Your gaze darted around, taking in every detail, but your attention was so focused that you didn’t notice Young-il’s quiet gaze lingering on you. His expression was unreadable as he watched you survey the room.

“The game you will be playing is Mingle,” the announcer declared.

You and your group stopped near the edge of the platform, exchanging uncertain glances. The announcer continued:

“All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform wil begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds.”

The realization hit you hard as the game’s instructions sank in. You had played something similar in kindergarten and primary school, where the game involved forming groups by hugging. But now, this game wasn’t just about forming groups; it was about survival. This game could either strengthen bonds or shatter them entirely. In here, the stakes included life and death.

Jung-bae’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Oh, this game? We used to play something like this on school trips. We’d form groups by hugging.”

“Yeah,” Dae-ho added, glancing around. “Except now, instead of hugging, we’re going into those rooms.”

All around you, chatter rose as players began strategizing. You and your group instinctively huddled together in a loose half-circle to discuss your approach.

“But this will break our group, won’t it?” you asked, frowning in concern. “We’re six right now. What if we have to form a group of five or four?”

Young-il stepped closer to your side, his presence steadying. “We’ll prioritize the women first. If the number is five, we’ll split into two groups of three and each find two more players to fill the gap. If it’s four, you, Jun-hee, and two others from our group will form a team. The remaining two of us will find more players.”

You nodded slowly as the others listened intently. Gi-hun chimed in, “If the number is bigger than six, we’ll get the additional people we need.”

“No matter what happens, don’t panic,” Young-il added. “Let’s stay calm.”

Jung-bae leaned in slightly. “If we’re asked to form pairs, that’ll be easy. The six of us can split into three groups of two.”

Young-il spoke again, his voice carrying an edge of seriousness. “If it’s pairs, let’s make sure [Your name] and Jun-hee are in separate teams. Each of them should pair with one of us men. If the two ladies end up together, other players might see them as easy targets to push around.”

Dae-ho’s eyes widened in realization, and he nodded quickly. “You’re right. You're right.”

You glanced at Jun-hee, who stood quietly beside Dae-ho, one hand clutching the underside of her belly. She looked nervous as her eyes darted between the others while the discussion continued.

“We need to decide now,” Young-il said firmly, his calm voice cutting through the tension. He turned to you and stated, “If it’s two, you will pair with me. Jun-hee will go with Dae-ho.”

“Then I’ll go with Gi-hun,” pointed out Jung-bae.

Young-il nodded in agreement. “Yes. Is everyone okay with that?”

The rest of you nodded your head. Young-il scanned each of your faces. “We’ll all make it through this. Together.”

He extended his right hand into the center of the circle. One by one, the rest of you placed your hands on top of his.

“One, two, three…” Young-il began.

“Victory at all costs!”

All of you stepped onto the platform, your group instinctively huddling together amid the growing crowd of players. You noticed Hyun-ju and her group were positioned right beside you. Taking a glance around, you confirmed the lineup of your group: Young-il was standing right next to you, followed by Jun-hee, who was flanked protectively by Dae-ho and Jung-bae, with Gi-hun at the front. You were all near the edge of the platform.

“Let the game begin.”

The ground beneath your feet shifted, the platform beginning to rotate. Players gasped and muttered in surprise as the movement threw everyone slightly off balance. You quickly planted your feet to steady yourself, your breath catching in your throat.

Then, the music began – a melody that tugged at memories of childhood. Its playful notes filled the room as the platform’s rotation picked up a steady rhythm. Overhead, the lights created shifting patterns on the platform, casting a carnival-like glow across the arena.

When the voices of children joined in, it sent an eerie chill down your spine:

“Round and round.

Round and round.

Let’s go around circles and dance.

We will clap our hands and sing.

La-la-la-la, let’s have fun dancing.

Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring.

Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs as the platform’s motion and the cheery song created a stark contrast to the ominous stakes of the game. Unable to suppress your anxiety, your eyes darted to Young-il, standing stoically on your right. He met your gaze immediately, his calm demeanor unshaken.

You wanted to offer him a smile. But you couldn’t. The weight of your fear was too heavy. Instead, your hand moved instinctively, reaching for the sleeve of his jacket. Your fingers curled around the fabric, clinging tightly as if it could anchor you to something solid amidst the uncertainty.

Young-il noticed the gesture and nodded at you. That single nod carried more meaning than words could have. I’ve got you. It’ll be okay.

The music continued:

“We will go hand in hand.

And have fun jumping around.

Round and round.”

The platform and music abruptly stopped, catching almost everyone off guard. You stumbled, your balance thrown by the sudden halt. Instinctively, you tightened your grip on Young-il’s sleeve. He glanced at you quickly, his other hand moving as if to catch you, but you managed to find your footing.

Before you could process the moment, the announcer’s voice echoed through the room: “Ten.”

A fast-paced, almost frantic tune filled the air. The overhead lights shifted into rapid flickers of red and purple, casting the arena in a dizzying blur of color. Your heartbeat quickened as the urgency in the atmosphere intensified. Around you, chaos erupted as players began shouting:

“We need two!”

“We need five! Come with us!”

You felt a firm grasp on your forearm. Turning quickly, you saw Young-il’s hand holding you securely. His expression was focused as he scanned everyone. Around you, the rest of your group sprang into action. Gi-hun turned, his gaze landing on Hyun-ju’s group nearby. Stepping toward her, he patted her shoulder and asked, “How many are you?”

“Four,” Hyun-ju responded without hesitation.

“We’re ten now!” Gi-hun called out, signaling to you and the others.

“Follow me!” Young-il said sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos. Without hesitation, he jogged off the platform, pulling you along by the arm. The rest of your group, including Hyun-ju’s team, hurried to keep up.

Young-il led you all to one of the many doors lining the arena. He yanked it open, gesturing for you to go inside first. You hurried through. One by one, the others rushed in after you. Young-il stayed by the door, holding it open until everyone was inside. Only then did he step in and firmly shut it.

The room was just large enough to hold all ten of you and more. It felt cramped but safe compared to the chaos outside. Your breath came in short bursts as you scanned the room. Overhead, a timer on the wall counted down. When it hit zero, a long, piercing beep echoed, and you heard the door lock automatically.

You turned to look at your group: Young-il, Gi-hun, Jun-hee, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, the mother, her son Yong-sik, Hyun-ju, and player 095. Relief coursed through you as you confirmed everyone was there. Ten people. Your group had made it.

But relief was fleeting. A chorus of cries and screams filtered through the door. You noticed a rectangular viewing slot on the door and, drawn by morbid curiosity, stepped closer. Peering through, you saw the arena outside.

Triangle guards moved with mechanical precision, their weapons raised and ready. Leftover players scrambled in panic, some pounding on doors, others pleading for mercy. The guards advanced steadily, and then gunshots. The sharp cracks of rifles echoed, silencing the cries one by one.

You flinched and jerked back from the door, unable to watch any longer. Spinning around, you cast your gaze to the floor, trying to block out the images. The reality of the situation crashed over you like a wave. Those players had been just like you. They had laughed and celebrated during Hyun-ju’s team’s victory in the Seven Legs Hexathlon. Now, they were gone.

Your chest tightened with pity and sorrow. Those players had families, and people waiting for them to come home. The weight of their loss pressed heavily on your shoulders.

Unbeknownst to you, Young-il stood silently by your side, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering, as if focused entirely on you.

You were lost in thought, staring blankly at the floor, when you felt a gentle hand rest on your shoulder. Turning, you found Gi-hun standing there, his face lined with concern. His voice broke through the silence, soft but steady. “You okay?”

Forcing a small smile, you nodded. “Yes. I guess I’m just not good at fast-paced games like this. I can’t think clearly when everything’s moving so quickly.”

“Same here,” Dae-ho admitted, still catching his breath. “I was completely blank until Gi-hun shouted we got ten.”

Jung-bae chimed in with a groan. “But do they really have to blast that fast music during the group selection? It’s impossible to think straight with all that noise.”

Player 095 nodded vigorously, her eyes wide. “Me too. The flashing lights made it even worse. I could barely see where I was going.”

Hyun-ju’s voice cut through the chatter. “We can manage this as long as we stay calm and stay together.”

Your gaze drifted to Jun-hee, who was quietly standing beside the mother. The older woman had leaned in, speaking softly to her, and Jun-hee responded with a small smile, murmuring that she was fine.

“That’s right,” Young-il agreed. Then, without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Gi-hun, noticing the gesture, slowly withdrew his hand from your shoulder. Young-il offered you a gentle smile as he added, “Don’t worry. We’ll prioritize the ladies first.”

You felt the tension in your chest ease slightly and managed a genuine smile in return. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the others in the room nodding in agreement.

Minutes ticked by as the muffled sounds of the guards cleaning the arena filtered through the door. Finally, the door clicked, unlocking with a low click. One by one, you all filed out of the room.

As you all headed back towards the platform, you looked around. The bodies were gone, but the bloodstains remained. It was a stark reminder of the carnage that had unfolded. Like in the Seven Legs Hexathlon game, the platform’s surface bore the uncleaned evidence of the lives lost.

Young-il had stepped onto the platform earlier, his eyes immediately locking onto you as if he’d been waiting. Once you approached, he extended a hand. You smiled gratefully and placed your hand in his. With a gentle pull, he helped you onto the platform with ease.

Just as you steadied yourself, you felt a brush against your shoulder. Turning, you saw Lee Min-jae walking past, uncomfortably close. His expression was cold, his eyes sharp as they met yours. Behind him, his two friends followed, casting glances in your direction.

A chill ran through you as you watched them pass. Dread crept in, a gnawing unease settling in your chest. Something about the way they looked at you made your stomach twist. It was as though they had already decided on some form of revenge and you were at the center of it.

Before the thought could take root, you felt an arm wrap gently around your waist. Startled, you turned to see Young-il beside you, his voice calm but firm as he said, “Ignore them.”

You nodded, though uncertainty still tugged at you. Unbeknownst to you, however, Young-il fixed the three boys with a dark glare, his jaw tightening ever so slightly as if daring them to try anything.

Together, he guided you toward your group, his arm lingering protectively at your side. Despite his reassurance, the worry clawed at you. You hoped Min-jae and his friends wouldn’t do anything. You all were already trapped in this live-or-die game. You could not afford another player sabotaging your gameplay.

As the second round began, the platform began its counter-clockwise rotation, just as it had before. Tension hung heavy in the air. Most players stood rigid, their eyes darting around nervously. In stark contrast, Thanos and his friend seemed entirely unfazed, dancing around to the children’s music that filled the arena once more:

“Round and round.

Round and round.

Let’s go around in circles and dance.

We will clap our hands and sing.

La-la-la-la, let’s have fun dancing.

Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring.

Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring.”

At that moment, your hand instinctively reached for Young-il’s sleeve again, seeking comfort from the incoming chaos.

The music continued:

“We will go hand in hand.

And have fun jumping around.

Round and round.”

The song and platform came to an abrupt stop, throwing you off balance. Young-il’s arm shot out instinctively, wrapping securely around your waist to steady you before you could stumble further.

The announcer’s voice rang out: “Four.”

Panic erupted among the players as the platform came alive once again beneath the rapid tempo of lights flickering red and purple. The fast-paced music urged everyone into a frenzied motion.

Young-il turned to you urgently. “You, Jun-hee, and two other men! Go!”

Gi-hun’s voice quickly followed, gesturing toward the others. “Dae-ho and Jung-bae, go with the girls!”

Without hesitation, Dae-ho and Jung-bae sprang into action, herding you and Jun-hee toward the nearest room across from you.

“Here! Quick! Quick!” Jung-bae shouted as he reached a room and yanked the door open.

One by one, you all rushed inside, Jun-hee first, followed by you and Dae-ho, with Jung-bae bringing up the rear and slamming the door shut behind him. The timer above the door caught your attention. Ten seconds remained.

Your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breathing, but your focus was drawn to the rectangular hole in the door. You stepped closer, peering through to scan the chaos outside. Players were darting in every direction. Some yelled the number of players they still needed, others scrambled frantically for rooms, and a few brawled near the doors, desperate to secure safety before the clock hit zero.

But amidst the disorder, you couldn’t spot Young-il and Gi-hun. Your stomach churned with unease as you searched the sea of frantic faces, but the two you were looking for were nowhere to be seen.

As soon as the timer let out its long, ominous beep, the door locked with a loud click. You turned your gaze away from the small window, not wanting to see the inevitable carnage outside. The rapid and relentless gunfire began almost immediately.

You moved to stand beside Jun-hee, who was leaning against the wall with one hand resting protectively on her belly. Her breaths were short and labored, and her expression was tired. You reached out and touched her arm lightly.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

Jun-hee nodded, her fingers tightening slightly over her belly.

“Yes,” she murmured, though her voice carried the faint tremor of exhaustion. Then, looking up at you, she added, “Did you see Gi-hun and Young-il out there?”

You shook your head. “No, I didn’t. But I’m sure they found two more players and made it into a room. Those two are good at playing these games.”

A thought lingered at the back of your mind: Not only were they skilled, but they were also both previous winners.

The minutes stretched on as muffled noises from outside hinted at the grim cleanup underway. Finally, the door unlocked with a metallic click, and you all filed out cautiously. Your eyes immediately darted around, scanning the crowd of survivors milling about.

“Young-il! Gi-hun!” Dae-ho called out, his voice cutting through the tension as he addressed them with the respectful hyungnim honorifics.

Jung-bae joined in, raising his voice slightly. “Gi-hun? Young-il?”

Your brow furrowed deeply as you scanned the faces around you. The growing worry twisted in your stomach, tightening with every second that passed without a sign of them. There was no way they could have failed, you told yourself. No way.

And then, a familiar voice called your name.

All at once, your shoulders relaxed. Relief washed over you like a wave as you turned to see them. Young-il and Gi-hun were jogging toward your group, their expressions mirroring the same relief and joy you felt.

“You two!” Dae-ho exclaimed, his voice brimming with relief.

“Oh, thank God!” Jung-bae sighed before rushing forward to hug Gi-hun tightly. Gi-hun’s eyes widened in surprise at the sudden embrace, but he patted Jung-bae’s back awkwardly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Meanwhile, Young-il stepped closer to you, his gaze scanning you from head to toe. His eyes held a warmth that made your heart flutter.

“You alright?” he asked, a smile softening his features.

You nodded, returning his smile. “I am. I was worried about you.”

He held your gaze for a moment, his smile lingering as if your words meant more to him than you realized.

Dae-ho, still catching his breath, placed a hand on his chest and let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you two made it. I was really worried there for a moment.”

Without warning, Jung-bae turned and side-hugged Young-il. The unexpected gesture caught Young-il off guard, and he stiffened momentarily before chuckling softly.

“I knew you two were going to be okay!” Jung-bae declared, his voice filled with genuine cheer.

Young-il gave a low laugh as he patted Jung-bae’s back. Jung-bae stepped back and, with a grin, declared, “I knew it. You two weren’t just anybody!”

Gi-hun offered a small smile, clarifying, “We found two players we needed. We made it into a room just in time.”

Young-il’s gaze shifted to Jun-hee. His expression softened, and he glanced at her belly as he asked, “Are you feeling alright?”

Jun-hee returned his concern with a gentle smile. “Yes, I’m alright. I’m glad you two made it.”

Young-il’s face shifted as if he suddenly remembered something. He looked at the group and said, “Wait a minute. If the next number is seven, we won’t need anyone else, will we?”

You and the others stared at him, momentarily confused. His words hung in the air as everyone tried to piece together what he meant.

Dae-ho frowned slightly, glancing around at the rest of you before asking, “Why not?”

A mischievous smile spread across Young-il’s lips as his gaze landed briefly on Jun-hee’s belly. You raised your eyebrows as realization dawned. “Because Jun-hee’s baby is considered one too?”

Young-il laughed, confirming your guess.

“Oh!” Dae-ho clapped his hands as silent laughter shook his shoulders. “Yeah, that makes us seven already!”

The realization rippled through the group, and everyone burst into light laughter. Jun-hee’s hand rested protectively on her belly as she chuckled softly. Gi-hun stepped closer, gently patting her shoulder. The atmosphere felt lighter, a brief but much-needed reprieve from the tense reality of the games.

“What if it’s twins?” Jung-bae chimed in. “Does that make eight?”

Dae-ho guffawed loudly, the sound infectious as it pulled more laughter from you and the rest of the group.

You smiled warmly, heartened by how protective and supportive everyone was of Jun-hee. For just a little while, the harshness of the game seemed to fade away.

That was until the announcer stated, “All players, please step onto the center platform.”

You found yourself standing at the edge of the platform with Gi-hun on one side and Young-il on the other. Behind you, Jun-hee stood flanked by Dae-ho and Jung-bae.

The third round began. The carousel platform beneath your feet began to rotate. Overhead lights cast playful patterns across the arena, a stark contrast to the anxiety pooling in your chest. Then, the familiar children’s song echoed across the space:

“Round and round.

Round and round.

Let’s go around in circles and dance.

We will clap our hands and sing.

La-la-la-la-”

The platform and music came to an abrupt halt, throwing most of you off balance. Before you could regain your footing, Young-il’s hand shot out, steadying you by your arm. The announcer’s voice immediately filled the space: “Three.”

The fast-paced music started up again, accompanied by rapid flickers of purple and red lights. You exchanged glances with your group.

“Just like we planned!” Young-il reminded in a firm tone.

Gi-hun’s voice cut through the noise. “Jung-bae, Dae-ho, Jun-hee! Go!”

The three of them darted off the platform without hesitation. Without wasting another second, Young-il grabbed your arm and called out to Gi-hun, “Let’s go!”

The three of you bolted, weaving through the frenzied players as everyone scrambled to find the needed number of players. You followed Young-il’s lead, your heart pounding in your chest as the seconds ticked away. Finally, you spotted an empty room, and the three of you rushed inside.

Young-il pulled the door shut with a solid thud. You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breathing as the timer counted down. A long, shrill beep signaled that time was up, followed by the familiar click of the door locking itself automatically.

Pressing your back against the wall, you exhaled deeply. The room’s silence was jarring while countless gunshots resounded outside. Despite your relief, your thoughts immediately went to the others. You hoped Jun-hee, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae had managed to find a room in time.

Once the gunshots ceased, a heavy silence filled the room. Young-il moved to stand beside you, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath. Across from you, Gi-hun crouched down, resting his back against the wall, his face shadowed with exhaustion.

The announcer’s voice echoed, mechanically listing the numbers of eliminated players as the guards busied themselves cleaning up the arena. You muttered under your breath, barely audible, “How many more rounds do we have to do this?”

Young-il glanced at you, his expression unreadable but his voice calm. “Perhaps the next round or the one after will be the final one.”

Gi-hun, still crouched, nodded slowly as he raised his head. “I think he’s right. The numbers needed to pass each round keep getting smaller. It’s like they’re funneling us toward the end.”

You absorbed their words in silence, staring down at the floor. The thought of the next one possibly being the last round brought an odd mix of relief and dread. Relief that this ordeal might soon end, and dread for what that final round might entail.

Finally, you nodded. The three of you stayed there in the quiet, bracing yourselves for whatever was to come next.

After a few minutes, the door finally unlocked with a faint click. Gi-hun stepped forward and pulled it open, holding it for you. You stepped out first, your eyes scanning the room. Young-il followed closely, and Gi-hun came out last.

You immediately began searching for the other players. Your focus sharpened as you searched for Jun-hee, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho. As you looked, a familiar figure emerged from another room. It was the mother, accompanied by two players you vaguely recognized, player 380 and another random player. Her son, Yong-sik, was nowhere in sight. A pang of unease struck you. You hadn’t expected them to be separated.

The mother appeared small and frail amidst the chaos, her wide eyes scanning the crowd anxiously. Concerned, you stepped toward her. Young-il and Gi-hun followed you from behind.

You called her gently using the respectful halmeoni title and asked, “Are you okay?”

She turned toward you, her expression softening as a relieved smile spread across her face. She patted your shoulder affectionately. “Oh, miss! I’m so glad you’re alright! Where is the little lady?”

“She’s with the other boys in our group,” you replied reassuringly before glancing around. “Where is your son?”

Her smile faltered slightly as she blinked at you, confusion clouding her features. “Sorry?”

Young-il approached as he asked, “Weren’t you with him?”

The mother’s gaze shifted away and you noticed it. Her wide smile returned, but it felt forced as if she was trying to dismiss the concern with false cheerfulness.

“Oh, well,” she began, her tone light and airy. “I lost hold of him. He told me to wait while he went to bring one more person, but I lost him in all the fuss.”

Young-il asked, “He didn’t come back?”

Her smile vanished entirely. She stared at Young-il, the agitation on her face unmistakable now. The three of you waited, your own unease growing with the silence.

That’s when someone called out, “Mrs. Jang!”

She turned quickly, her face lighting up with a wide grin. “Oh, goodness!”

Player 095 and Hyun-ju rushed toward her, pulling her into a warm group hug. The mother let out a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

When they stepped back, she immediately began patting them down, checking for injuries. “You’re not hurt at all, are you?”

Behind them, another player approached. You recognized him instantly. It was Player 246, who had teamed up with them during the Seven Legs Hexathlon. Hyun-ju gestured toward him and said, “He saved our lives.”

Player 095 chimed in with a bright smile, “Mr. 246 here showed up when we were running out of time, just like Prince Charming!”

“Boy, you do look like a prince,” the mother beamed at him, reaching out to shake his hands. “Thank you so much.”

Player 246 shook his head modestly. “Not at all. These two saved my life.”

Hyun-ju’s expression shifted as she looked around. “Where’s Yong-sik?”

“Mom.”

All of you turned toward the voice. Standing a few feet away, Yong-sik appeared frozen. He looked as though he could barely believe his mother was alive and standing there.

The mother’s face softened, and she walked toward him, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “It’s okay. I made it. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Tears welled up in Yong-sik’s eyes, and his voice cracked as he replied, “Mom… I… I’m so sorry…”

He broke down, sobbing openly, as the mother quickly pulled him into an embrace. He repeated, “Mom, I’m sorry…”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she murmured, holding him tightly. “We both made it. That’s all that matters.”

You watched them silently, taking in the emotional reunion. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Gi-hun and Young-il observing the scene as well, their expressions unreadable. While their thoughts remained a mystery, your own mind churned with suspicion. Something about the interaction didn’t sit well with you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that Yong-sik and his mother had been separated because Yong-sik had left her behind. His apologies felt laced with guilt, and you suspected that the mother, who seemed to spoil him unconditionally, refused to acknowledge it. Perhaps, in her heart, she truly believed her own words – that she had simply lost hold of him in the chaos.

Dae-ho, Jung-bae, and Jun-hee appeared and gathered with your group. They exchanged puzzled glances with each other, clearly not understanding the emotional scene that had just unfolded between the mother and her son. Dae-ho turned to you, Young-il, and Gi-hun with a questioning look, silently asking for an explanation.

Without speaking, all of you shifted back to the platform. This time, your group and Hyun-ju’s group stood together, with player 246 joining you as well.

From the far left stood Yongsik and his mother, their hands tightly clasped as if anchoring each other. Beside them were Hyun-ju and Gi-hun, positioned at the front. Player 095 and Jun-hee stood behind you, with you and Young-il directly in front of them. At the back were Jung-bae, Dae-ho, and player 246, forming the tail of your formation.

The platform began to rotate again, the movement as unsettling as it was familiar. The whimsical music started up once more, echoing through the space:

“Round and round.

Round and round.

Let’s go around in circles and dance.”

To your surprise, the platform stopped rotating earlier than expected, causing most players to let out startled noises as they nearly stumbled. Young-il was quick to steady you, his firm grip on your arm keeping you balanced.

The announcer’s voice echoed through the room: “Six.”

The fast-paced music and rapid, flashing lights started once again. Your mixed group instinctively gathered into a tight circle. It was immediately clear that, with player 246 now part of your group, you were a total of eleven.

Gi-hun hastily said, “Five women and one man, go!”

Young-il interjected, “That’s dangerous. At least two men should be in a group to protect the women.”

He turned his gaze to you and added decisively, “[Your name] stays with us. Four women go with two men!”

Gi-hun accepted the adjustment without hesitation. “Okay, go!”

“Which two men?” Jung-bae asked urgently.

“I’m going with my mom!” Yong-sik declared.

Dae-ho raised a hand quickly. “I-I’ll go.”

“Go! Go!” Gi-hun urged.

With that, Dae-ho, Yong-sik, the mother, Jun-hee, Hyun-ju, and player 095 rushed off. You stayed behind with Young-il, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and player 246, meaning your group still needed one more player.

Gi-hun shouted over the clamor, “We need one more player!”

That’s when you noticed player (380) rushing in your direction. You pointed at her and called out to the others, “There! Let’s go!”

The rest of you moved quickly toward her. As soon as she reached you, her hand clasped yours, and all six of you sprinted off the platform to find an empty room.

Player 246 got to the door first and pulled it open, ushering everyone inside. All of you filed in with haste. You let go of player 380’s hand as you stepped in and immediately leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Glancing up at the timer, you saw there were still five seconds remaining.

In no time, the timer reached zero and a long beeping noise emitted, followed by the door automatically locking itself again. The room was filled with the sounds of you all trying to catch your breath.

Then came the gunshots.

The deafening cracks seemed endless. No one dared to look outside. The chilling silence that followed only deepened the weight of the moment. Gi-hun, crouched down on the floor, finally broke the quiet.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly. His unexpected words drew everyone’s attention. “I was wrong. I thought this would be the final round because the numbers needed to pass kept getting smaller. I didn’t expect six.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. I’m sure the game maker did this on purpose.”

Young-il nodded. “At least our group has grown larger in number too.”

He glanced at player 246 who was standing beside him and patted his shoulder with a small smile. Player 246 bowed his head politely in acknowledgment.

Jung-bae, ever the optimist, chimed in, “Yeah, the more allies, the better. What’s your name?”

“I’m Gyeong-seok,” the man replied, his tone respectful. “Thanks for having me.”

“I'm Jung-bae. This is Gi-hun, Young-il, and [Your name],” he said with a quick nod toward each person.

You turned to the young woman beside you, who had a piercing on her bottom lip. You asked her gently, “What’s your name?”

She glanced at you, still catching her breath. “I’m Se-mi.”

You smiled at her, offering a bit of warmth in the tense moment. Jung-bae, not missing a beat, grinned. “Oh, you seem young, like Jun-hee. How old are you?”

Se-mi hesitated, her eyes darting around the group as if weighing whether to trust you all. For a moment, you thought she might not answer, but then she finally spoke.

“Twenty-six,” she said.

Jung-bae, clearly exhausted but trying to keep spirits up, wiped his forehead dramatically and chuckled. “Ah, so young. I’m starting to feel ancient around here.”

Se-mi’s lips curved into a small smile, her posture relaxing just slightly. She muttered in a jesting tone, “Really? I'm right, then. I assumed you are fifty.”

Jung-bae gave her an offended look. “Excuse you? I'm not that old. I might look old but it's because of the debts piling up.”

His exaggerated reaction drew soft laughter from the group, even from Se-mi, whose chuckle seemed to brighten the somber mood.

Minutes passed before the door finally unlocked. You and your group stepped out. As you approached the other six groupmates, you blinked in confusion. The first thing you noticed was the mother and Hyun-ju’s tear-streaked faces and the unmistakable weight of sadness in their expressions. Player 095 was nowhere to be seen. Instead, player 333 stood silently among them.

Alarmed, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

The group shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. Hyun-ju appeared to be the most affected, her sadness almost tangible. It was clear something terrible had happened in the last round. Finally, Dae-ho spoke, his eyes fixed on the ground. “We lost one of our members…”

The mother, dabbing at her tears with a trembling hand, clarified, “It’s Young-mi… she didn’t make it.”

The reality of her words hit you like a weight. You didn’t need any more details to understand what had transpired. The presence of player 333 answered the question of why they had survived despite losing Young-mi. Though curiosity gnawed at you on how it all transpired, you didn’t dare press for more information.

You took your place on the edge of the platform with the others. The allies from before regrouped together in one big team, now including player 333 and Se-mi. From the far left stood Hyun-ju, still visibly shaken, followed by the mother and Yong-sik holding hands tightly, with Jun-hee and player 333 behind them. Gi-hun stood at the front beside you and Young-il, while Dae-ho, Se-mi, Jung-bae, and Gyeong-seok filled in behind.

The platform began to rotate, and the familiar children’s music resumed, its cheerfulness now a cruel contrast to the heavy atmosphere. As it played, the announcer’s voice cut through:

“Now, the final round will begin.”

A wave of relief washed over you. This was it. The final round. One last push to survive.

“Round and round.

Round and round.

Let’s go around circles and dance.”

Jung-bae stepped closer to Gi-hun, you, and Young-il, and asked, “What do you think it’ll be this time?”

Gi-hun seemed deep in thought, but before he could respond, Young-il answered confidently, “Two.”

Most of your group heard him and immediately shifted their attention to him. Jung-bae’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

Young-il explained, “There are 129 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won’t be enough rooms for everyone, only for 100 people. The rest will be killed.”

A cold dread settled over you as realization struck. You looked up at him and muttered, “If it’s two, then…”

Your voice trailed off as your eyes darted toward the rest of your group. You urged, “Quick. Pair up. Pair up.”

The group moved without hesitation. Yong-sik and his mother’s hands tightened. Player 333 reached for Jun-hee’s hand almost instinctively, surprising her, though she didn’t pull away. Gyeong-seok crossed the distance to stand beside the somber Hyun-ju, silently pairing with her. Behind you, Jung-bae shifted closer to Gi-hun’s back. Nearby, Se-mi and Dae-ho exchanged a glance before nodding in mutual agreement.

Meanwhile, you turned to Young-il, grasping the left sleeve of his jacket. You faced forward, trying to keep your focus on the rooms ahead, but from the corner of your eye, you caught him glancing down at your hand. His right hand rose, gently untangling your grip from his sleeve. A wave of confusion stirred within you as you wondered what he was doing. But then, his right hand guided yours downward to meet his left. With a deliberate motion, he clasped your hands together, his fingers wrapping securely around yours in a snug, reassuring hold.

Warmth bloomed on your face as your cheeks flushed. Quickly, you turned your head away, your heart racing at the unexpected intimacy. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but the comforting pressure of his hand in yours grounded you amidst the chaos.

“Ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring.”

Suddenly, the platform stopped rotating, and the music came to an abrupt halt. Almost immediately, the fast-paced music blared back on, accompanied by rapid flashes of red and purple lights. The announcer’s voice cut through the chaos: “Two.”

Without hesitation, you and Young-il rushed off the platform. Your hands were clasped tightly together as he led you toward a specific room. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the rest of your group sprinting away with their partners, each desperate to claim a room.

You had barely made it halfway when arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back violently. Your hand slipped from Young-il’s grasp. He turned just in time to see two men shoulder-check him, sending him crashing to the floor.

“Young-il!” you screamed, panic gripping your voice as you struggled against the arms locking you in place. Your head whipped around to see who had grabbed you. It was Lee Min-jae. His cold, triumphant smirk sent a wave of anger through you.

“Hey! Let me go!” you yelled, thrashing against his hold. Min-jae kept his grip tight, struggling to drag you toward another room a few feet away.

Desperation surged through you, and with every ounce of strength, you slammed your elbow into his chest, forcing a grunt from him. Seizing the moment, you drove your elbow into his cheek. His grip loosened slightly, giving you just enough room to break free.

You stumbled forward, but before you could get far, Min-jae’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, yanking you back against his chest. This time, one of his friends rushed over to grab your ankles.

“Let me go, Min-jae!” you screamed, your voice raw with fury. You kicked and thrashed, doing everything you could to break free, but their combined grip was too strong. Min-jae held your wrists tightly while his friend lifted your legs. Together, they dragged you toward a nearby room as you continued to fight, your heart pounding with fear and rage.

Min-jae let out a bitter scoff, his voice dripping with mockery. “Sorry, but I have no partner. So I chose you.”

Before you could respond, his third friend rushed to the door and yanked it open. As they dragged you inside, Min-jae’s grip tightened, locking your arms to your sides and pinning your back against his chest. He took you both into the far corner of the room.

“Now go!” he barked at his friends. “Find your room!”

Without hesitation, they darted back outside. Just as the second friend disappeared through the doorway, a blur of movement caught your eye. A sickening crack echoed through the room as one of Min-jae’s friends was yanked back by his hair and slammed headfirst into the wall just outside. The force of the impact left him crumpled and unconscious on the ground. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized who it was.

Young-il.

He stormed into view, his face a mask of fury. His disheveled hair clung to his forehead, and his sharp eyes radiated an icy resolve. Without missing a beat, he turned to the second man and delivered a punishing punch to his face. A sickening crunch followed as the man’s nose shattered. The second friend collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain and clutching his face.

“Shit!” Min-jae cursed under his breath, his grip around you tightening like a vice.

Young-il stepped into the room, his intense gaze locking onto you and Min-jae. His eyes darkened as they took in the scene. Your arms trapped, your body pressed against Min-jae’s, his hold unrelenting.

“Let her go,” Young-il commanded, his voice low and seething with menace.

“Fuck no!” Min-jae spat back, defiance dripping from his tone. “If you want her alive, then go and find another room!”

Young-il didn’t move, his sharp eyes analyzing the situation. The room’s oppressive tension bore down on you, the timer’s faint beep a grim reminder of the seconds ticking away. You could see him weighing his options, trying to calculate how to take down Min-jae without putting you in harm’s way.

Min-jae’s voice cracked with desperation as he shouted, “So what will it be?!”

Your arms were still pinned tightly to your sides, but your mind raced for a way out. Acting on impulse, you maneuvered your right hand downward, clenching his crotch through his pants with brutal force. Min-jae’s roar of agony filled the room. He released you instantly, doubling over in pain.

You scrambled to the side, gasping for breath. Before you could process what was happening, Young-il lunged forward. The air erupted with the sound of fists connecting and the guttural grunts of a fight. You turned to see Young-il punching Min-jae relentlessly, his expression cold and focused, a stark contrast to the chaos around him.

Your eyes darted to the timer on the wall. Seven seconds remained.

“Quick!” you shouted with urgency. “Shove him out!”

Young-il ignored your words. Instead of dragging Min-jae to the door, he locked his arms around the man’s neck from behind and maneuvered him into a chokehold. With precision, Young-il crouched low, forcing Min-jae’s body into submission. You froze, wide-eyed, watching the intensity of his movements.

The timer ticked down mercilessly. From behind Min-jae’s head, you caught Young-il’s gaze. His dark eyes burned with a quiet fury, focused and unrelenting. He looked like a man consumed by the moment, no hesitation, no mercy.

With one second left, Young-il’s arms shifted sharply. The room echoed with a sickening crack as Min-jae’s head twisted unnaturally to the side. You gasped audibly, your breath catching in your throat. The timer emitted its long, piercing beep, signaling the end of the round.

Min-jae’s lifeless body slumped to the floor, and Young-il finally released his neck. His hands fell limply on the dead body’s chest, his chest heaving with exertion. His hair clung to his damp forehead, and his dark eyes stayed locked on you, unblinking and unreadable.

The room felt heavy, suffocating. You tore your gaze away, unable to meet his intense stare any longer. Your eyes fell to the floor, and a cold chill ran down your spine. Everything about the scene felt surreal, and you struggled to piece together what had just unfolded. The quiet that followed was almost deafening.

Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor, your arms trembling uncontrollably. You didn’t even know why. Or maybe you did, but you couldn’t pinpoint which fear was overwhelming you the most. Was it the terror of what just happened, the shock of seeing Young-il so close to dying because he had no partner? Or was it the dread of being stuck with Min-jae, the helplessness of experiencing a man’s strength overpowering yours? Or… was it Young-il? Was it the dark, ruthless side of him you had just seen, a side you didn’t even think he had?

You couldn’t tell. Maybe it was all of it, all at once. It churned inside you, making it impossible to steady yourself. You barely registered the countless gunshots echoing from the arena, as though they were muffled by the storm inside your mind.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed movement. Young-il shifted from his spot, standing slowly, his shadow stretching across the room as he turned toward you. His breathing was heavy but measured now. For a moment, he just stood there, watching you, as if gauging your state. Then, with deliberate steps, he walked closer.

He began by calling your name softly. His voice was calm, careful, like he knew anything too abrupt might break you completely.

Your trembling arms tensed further, but you still couldn’t lift your gaze. His footsteps stopped right in front of you. He crouched down, his presence filling your immediate space. You could feel the warmth of his proximity, but it didn’t comfort you. Not entirely. Not yet.

“Look at me,” he urged gently. When you didn’t respond, he reached out, his hand hovering over your trembling arm for a moment before he rested it there, grounding but not forceful.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I wasn’t going to let him…”

He trailed off, his jaw tightening before he looked away briefly as if the memory of what had happened to you was clawing at him too.

You finally lifted your head, meeting his gaze hesitantly. His eyes weren’t the cold, dark ones you had seen moments before. They were filled with something different now. Concern? Or care? It was hard to tell. But the intensity had softened.

You let out a shaky whimper, your voice trembling as you struggled to get the words out. “You didn’t have to kill him. You could have just shoved him out of the room.”

Young-il nodded slightly, his expression softening as though he accepted your words. But instead of replying immediately, he stepped closer. You felt your breath hitch as his arms encircled you, pulling you into a firm embrace. His touch was steady, anchoring you despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

He rested his chin gently atop your head, and your face pressed against the crook of his neck. His warmth surrounded you, a stark contrast to the cold dread that had gripped you moments before.

“If I shoved him out,” he began, “he would’ve died anyway. The guards would have shot him. At least this way… it was on my terms. Not theirs.”

You felt the vibration of his words against your cheek.

“Let me protect you in this hell,” he continued, his tone softening. “I’m doing this because I care about you.”

His words struck something deep within you, bringing back the memory of his confession during your shared watch. In this moment, he wasn’t just a shield. He was someone who had chosen you above all else.

You hesitated, your arms hanging limply at your sides, unable to bring yourself to reciprocate his embrace. Everything felt overwhelming – the fear, the relief, the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

Sensing your hesitation, Young-il slowly pulled back, his arms loosening their hold. His hand moved to your chin, gently lifting your face so your wide, startled eyes met his steady, intense gaze. Without a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was brief. It was a fleeting connection that lasted no more than two seconds. When he withdrew, you stared at him, stunned and speechless.

“Sorry,” he said softly. “I thought I was going to lose you. So now, I’m not going to waste any more time with you.”

Before you could find the words to respond, he drew you back, his arms wrapping tightly around you. This time, he locked lips with you again and again. He even grabbed the back of your head and tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your mouth.

Your heart fluttered wildly, a mix of emotions you couldn’t fully comprehend. Slowly, almost tentatively, you lifted your arms and wrapped them around his back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his jacket. In his arms, you felt a strange sense of safety, as though nothing in this cruel, twisted game could touch you as long as he held you like this.

And yet, while he was kissing you deeply, doubts gnawed at the edges of your mind. Was this the real Young-il? Had he truly taken off his last mask with you, as you had believed back when you two kept watch together? Or was there something deeper, something darker, that he was still hiding?

You couldn’t ignore the ruthless efficiency he had displayed moments ago. The way he had ended Min-jae’s life without hesitation. Was this how he had survived his 2015 game? Cold, calculating, and unsympathetic? You wanted to believe in the caring, protective side of him that he had shown you, but the memory of his darkened eyes and unflinching actions lingered in your mind.

NEXT : Chapter 11

PREV : Chapter 09

Story Masterlist

Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones! What do you think about the overall Mingle game? What do you think about the occasional sweet and caring gestures Young-il did to you? What about Gi-hun's group gradually increasing in team members with Gyeong-seok, Se-mi, and player 333? What do you think about Young-il brawling with Lee Min-jae and his two friends? What do you think about the kiss???

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho #the front man #player 001 #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #front man x reader #front man x you

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moonlight-alexia · 1 year ago

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secret admirer | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 1.4k | leah had been on the receiving end of your anonymous letters not having the courage to talk to her until you get caught out

ˏˋ°•*⁀arsenal/lioness!reader - a little leah fic bc mainly leah and alexia have been living rent free in my head all day today :') but yeah! also i work 10 hour days the rest of the week so a little something until i can not be too tired to write again!

‘Ooh, Leah’s got a secret admirer,’ Keira sang out, teasing Leah while they crowded around the bouquet of flowers and note that was left sitting in Leah’s cubby. Keira took the note from Leah’s hand reading it out loud, if any one was around they’d be able to listen in to the contents.

For the last few months Leah had been finding little notes of admiration left around in places that only she would be able to find. The notes started appearing around in places when she was anywhere with arsenal. At training, their home games and also their away games. At first she thought it might’ve been a supporter anonymously giving her support and admiration from afar. It could’ve looked like that especially with some of the shorter notes being pretty generic, ‘your laugh is my favourite sound’ and ‘your smile is pretty just like you’.

Until the longer notes made their appearance, taking the place of the shorter notes. After a month of leaving the shorter notes around for Leah to find, she hadn’t figured out it was you which made you decide to be more brave. Well as brave as you could be hiding behind anonymous letters and gifts. Your letters got longer and more personal and in depth which made Leah clue in that it wasn’t a fan and the likelihood it was some crazed stalker was quite low.

With how personal some of the things were and that she was still receiving flowers and notes even while on camp with England, Leah started considering that it was one of her teammates who Keira had deemed her secret admirer. Even if she was unsure of who was sending and writing her these notes, Leah still thought some of them were beautifully written and even gave her the comfort she needed especially after tough games.

‘I really have no idea who is leaving these for me. Could it be someone here?’ Leah voiced the thought she had been having for a little while now, that it was one of her teammates. They both pondered the thought, realising that it was probably the only reasonable explanation on how these letters always seemed to reach Leah no matter where she was.

‘Our next mission, finding out who your secret admirer is,’ Keira laughed, slightly wiggling her eyebrows, teasing Leah even more.

‘Our next mission is training,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head and gently pushing at her best friend.

Already out on the pitch you watched as the pair walked out joining the rest of the team before training started. Ever since you met Leah you had been infatuated with her. The way she was kind and helpful to you when you started at arsenal and when you got your first call up for the lionesses, it instantly drew you in. The only problem was that you had no idea how to properly talk to her. It wasn’t unknown that Leah can be intimidating, she definitely intimidated you. Whenever you could be around her within a group setting you were always there, even from slightly afar your feelings towards Leah continued to grow.

It frustrated you how you didn’t even know how to befriend Leah, only being able to be around her whenever other girls from either team were there. At first you weren’t even going to leave her the letters, only writing them for yourself as a way to get your feelings out. Feeling like you would implode from how greatly you were feeling for Leah, luckily writing it out had helped you. Unlucky for you that one of the letters had slipped out and fallen in a place where Leah would find it. While you never wrote your name on any, all the letters were addressed to Leah so there was no mistaking that it was for her when she eventually found it.

When you saw Leah holding up the coloured paper you knew you had used to write out your feelings, your heart started to race. Immediately trying to think of a way you could get far away from Leah just in case. But the small smile that ghosted her lips melted your heart a little. So you continued to leave more hoping that same smile would always make its appearance, wanting nothing more than to make sure Leah was happy. In some way you could still be in her life.

Nights before matches weren’t great for you, always ending up struggling to sleep from the build up of nerves. Eventually you’d be able to push the nerves away enough to be able to sleep but tonight proved to be the hardest you’ve faced since your first national camp. Finding yourself scribbling out a little note for Leah as a way to distract you from your nerves at the match the next day.

Not wanting to keep the letter on you knowing it would be more risky with everyone on top of each other in the hotel and thinking everyone would be asleep by now you decided to deliver the letter. Sneaking out of your room and down the hallway towards the room you knew Leah was staying in, you made sure to be quiet enough so no one would wake up and find you out in the hallway at this time knowing you couldn’t make up a lie to save your life.

Though you didn’t account for Leah to still be awake having gotten lost in all different kinds of puzzle games on her phone. You shuffled around a little outside the door to her room contemplating whether you should actually slide the letter underneath the door or throw it out and make your way back to your own room.

Leah had heard some noises outside the door in the hallway and had gotten up to check it out, to see if it was any of her teammates needing help. She was about to open the door when she saw the familiar coloured paper and knew it was another letter. You were still standing outside the door lost in your thoughts, wishing you had more courage to actually talk to Leah, when you suddenly came face-to-face with the girl that clouded your thoughts. Leah’s face matching the same surprise and shock as your own.

‘You were the one who wrote me all these letters?’ Leah was the first on to break the silence between the two of you, quickly stepping out into the hallway beside you and quietly shutting the door, ‘Why didn’t you just come talk to me?’

Leah’s eyebrows furrowed a little. While she had caught your interest, little did you know that you had caught Leah’s interest. She found the way you could instantly light up the room and change a sullen atmosphere into a lighter more joyful one quite endearing. Always wanting to get to know you and talk to you more but she could never seem to get you alone, always with a group of people whenever the two of you were around each other. Leah always watched you from afar, she’d become quite proud of the footballer you’d become since she first met you. After a tough match she’d always be looking around wanting to catch a glimpse of the smile you’d always be wearing to try and cheer everyone up. Leah was relieved knowing you had been the one writing her the letters.

‘I think I practised talking to you and asking you out a couple hundred times in the mirror,’ You sighed out, softly laughing at how ridiculous you felt sharing this with Leah. But she’d already read so many letters from you so you might as well confess everything now, ‘But anonymous notes was all the courage I could muster,’ You whispered out, looking around a little fidgeting with your fingers.

‘You practised asking me out? On yourself?’ Hearing the amusement in Leah’s voice, you looked up seeing her slightly smirking at you.

‘Of course that’s what you focused on,’ You shook your head, a small smile starting to creep it’s way onto your face when it suddenly dropped and you took a deep breath, ‘Well Le, now you know that it’s me…would you want to go out with me some time?’ You raised your eyebrow in question, your eyes glimmering with hope that Leah would agree, hoping that maybe she felt the same way.

‘Hm let me see,’ Leah pulled a fake thinking face, but it made your heart deflate not realising she was setting you up and just messing around with you. Leah saw your face drop and instantly reached for your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers while she smiled softly at you, ‘Oh stop the frown, I’d love to go on a date with you,’

#leah williamson x you #leah williamson #leah williamson fluff #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #awfc imagine #awfc #woso one shot #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso soccer #woso imagines #arsenal women

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willowsnook · 5 months ago

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community relations (18+)

Pulled pork! Vinegar! Wrap! ~ Mike’s Way ~ Thank you for this, such a great idea!!

quinn hughes x coworker!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—----------------------------------------------------

“I have an observation from today,” Quinn said as you packed up after the event.

The local children’s hospital had sent some kids to skate with Canucks players, including their captain, who was lingering behind.

“And what’s that?” you asked, glancing up over the box you were carrying.

“You don’t know how to skate,” he said, smirking.

“I do not,” you admitted with a smile.

“How?” he asked, bewildered. “You literally work for a hockey team.”

Shrugging, you passed him the box. “My job doesn’t require me to be on the ice.”

“But still,” he persisted, following you to the storage closet. “Let me teach you.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip.

“Not for another hour,” he replied, grinning wide. “Now let’s find you some skates, princess.” Before you could protest, he was already running off. Sighing, you followed, wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

Quinn was the most requested player for community events, so you spent a lot of time with him. At first, he was quiet and reserved, but over time, your friendship grew, making your job easier and more fun.

After discovering you weren’t a hockey fan growing up, he took it upon himself to teach you the basics. Today’s lesson, however, would take place on the ice.

Sitting on a bench, you watched as Quinn tied your skates. His fingers moved deftly, and he glanced up at you with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said softly. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You clung to the wall as he led you onto the rink, showing you the basics before holding out his hands. Taking them hesitantly, you shuffled off the wall, Quinn skating backward to guide you.

“That’s it!” he encouraged. “Isn’t it fun?”

“Not really,” you replied, earning a loud laugh from him.

As you completed a lap, you began to wobble. Quinn tightened his grip, pulling you into his chest as you stumbled. His arm wrapped securely around your waist, steadying you.

“Easy,” he murmured, his face inches from yours. Your cheeks flushed at the proximity, and neither of you moved.

“I think you can let go of me now,” you teased, breaking the tension. Quinn stepped back, his cheeks reddening as he guided you off the ice.

Later that afternoon, your mind wandered to the interaction. Quinn was undeniably attractive—and kind—but he was also your coworker, the captain of the team. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to feel this way about him, but he wasn’t making it easy to resist.

Making yourself dinner, you picked up your phone to Facetime your sister.

“Hey y/n,” she greeted as her face popped up on the screen.

“Hey J,” you replied, propping the phone up. “Ready for this weekend?

She was visiting Vancouver to visit you and catch a game as your guest. You were excited, as you hadn’t seen her since over the summer and were very much in need of a girl's weekend.

“So ready, I also expect you to take me bar hopping after the game on Saturday,” she said and you giggled.

“Dangerous,” you replied, remembering the very rough nights the two of you had shared while going out.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you when I land tomorrow,” she said before hanging up. This was going to be a long weekend.

—--------------------------------------------------------

“That was amazing,” Jaelen said after the final buzzer went off. The Canucks had won easily and you were happy just to be a fan for this game rather than an employee. “I want to be a WAG so bad.”

You laughed at your sister, knowing this was nothing new. The first thing she said when you told her you got the job a couple of years ago was ask when she could meet some of the players.

“Do you know where they go out after the game?” she asked, and you sighed, trying to look away. “Omg, you do!”

Because of Quinn’s insistence that you eventually join him to celebrate one of these days, you knew the usual hangout was a small bar a couple of blocks away. You lived close to the arena, so you decided to stop by your apartment first and change into a pair of black jeans and a tight white top. You made a couple of martinis to pregame and eventually made your way to the bar.

A lot of the hockey team was already there when you both arrived, and you spotted Quinn standing by the bar chatting with someone you thought might be one of his brothers. Jaelen was already dragging you to the bar, and you avoided his gaze as you stood up to order.

“Put her drink on my tab,” you heard him say as he approached you. You looked over at him with a small smile on your face and met his eyes, sparkling with amusement.

“Finally made it, and I didn’t even text you this time,” he teased.

“My sister wanted to come out,” you defended.

“Lot of bars in Vancouver, princess,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah yeah, she wants to bag one of your teammates,” you admitted. Quinn stepped closer to you, bringing his mouth to your ear.

“I like how you didn’t include me as one of the options there,” he whispered, and you were instantly flustered, not even realizing what you had said.

“Shut up,” you mumbled before sipping your drink. His smirk widened at your discomfort.

“Hi, I’m Jack,” the guy he had been with earlier interrupted, holding his hand out. Quinn shot him a look of annoyance, but Jack’s smile didn’t falter.

“Y/n,” you replied, shaking his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, making Quinn blush and you smiled. “And I can see why.”

Jack shamelessly checked you out and you tilted your head, amused at the brother.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You replied, locking eyes once again.

“Only for you, sweetheart,” he flirted, and you felt a slight blush cross your features. Quinn was frowning now as he glared at Jack, who shot him a wink. You chatted a little longer with the boys, well mostly Jack, as Quinn had grown quieter as the night went on. Jack finally left to go to the bathroom and you turned to him.

“You okay?” You asked and he looked down at you, clearly contemplating saying something.

“I don’t like him flirting with you,” he admitted and you looked at him confused.

“He’s just being nice,” you countered and he gave you a look.

“I know my brother.”

“I’m not going to hook up with him Quinn,” you said amused, grabbing your purse. “There’s only one Hughes brother I’m interested in and it’s not him. I’ll see you later.”

His eyes widened as he processed your words and he watched you walk away.

—------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks had passed since then, and Quinn had definitely been more flirty with you but hadn’t made a move. You were starting to get worried that you had said too much that night at the bar; it was exactly why you avoided drinking around him in the first place.

It was the week before Thanksgiving and you were going to your good friend Rachel’s house for a Friendsgiving party. She had done it each year for the past three and it always meant a good meal and then sitting around a bonfire, drinking and talking. You had been looking forward to it all month; it was a good chance to get away from work and just relax. It didn’t seem like work would be getting away from you, though, as you looked over to see Quinn stepping out of an Uber at the same time you pulled up.

“What’s up princess?” He asked with a grin, taking the potato dish you brought out of your hands.

“What are you doing here?” You asked befuddled.

“I’m friends with Rachel’s new boyfriend,” he said and you nodded. Rachel had started dating this guy she had met at work a couple of months ago. You had yet to meet him but had heard good things. “You’re friends with Rachel, right?”

“Yeah,” you told him as you walked in the house.

“Y/n!” Rachel called as you made it into the kitchen. She was wearing a cute little apron over her sweater and jeans and you hugged her in greeting. “Meet Paul!”

Her boyfriend gave you a kind smile, shaking your hand before turning to pull Quinn into a hug.

“What’s up huggy?” Paul said and you watched amused as the two boys caught up.

“I totally forgot to tell you that Quinn was coming. You guys see each other a lot at work, right? " she asked, and you nodded. “He’s cute.”

“Rachel,” you warned and she smirked.

“Just saying.”

You helped her with the final touches as everyone else arrived, Quinn staying in the kitchen with you guys, nursing a beer.

“Okay, everyone, grab a plate and food, and let's eat!” Rachel called, and you joined her in line. You filled your plate and moved to the dining room, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as Quinn took the spot next to you.

“So how long have you two been together?” One of Rachel’s friends asked you and Quinn. Other conversations flowed in the background as you looked at Quinn quickly before answering.

“We aren’t together, just coworkers,” you said and she nodded.

“Just coworkers, not even friends?” Quinn said, pouting and you rolled your eyes.

“Friends,” you confirmed and Rachel gave you a wink from where she was sitting.

“I didn’t know you worked for the Canucks,” the girl continued and you nodded, taking a sip of your wine.

“Yeah, have been for a couple of years now,” you told her.

“That’s so lucky. I’d love to work around a bunch of hot athletes,” she said, and you choked a little on your drink, causing Quinn to grin.

“Yeah, she is lucky,” he teased, and you shot him the finger. The rest of dinner went smoothly. You had a couple more glasses of wine before slowly following the group outside as Paul got the fire going. It was chilly, and you regretted already not having brought your heavier coat.

Quinn was already sitting back in one of the outdoor chairs, watching you as you got closer.

“Cold princess?” He asked as you got closer and you crossed your arms shaking your head.

“I’m fine,” you said but shivered involuntarily, causing him to give you a teasing smile.

“Come sit in my lap,” he said and you gave him a death glare.

“I’m not sitting in your lap,” you said and he smirked looking around.

“Where else are you going to sit?”

Sure enough, Rachel had invited more people than usual, and there were actually no seats open. You held your head high, determined not to show him his effect on you, and you moved closer to him. His eyes widened as you sat down on his lap, and he set down his beer next to him so that he could adjust you into him.

Rachel was grinning widely at you from the next chair over and you ignored it, just jumping in to ask her about work. You chatted with Rachel for a while, enjoying the warmth Quinn provided with his arms wrapped around you. She got pulled into another conversation and you turned your attention to Quinn.

“You’re being quiet,” you said and he gave you a small smile.

“I’m enjoying the peacefulness,” he said and you smiled. “Still cold?”

“A little,” you replied and he shifted so you could lean into his chest. His head rested on top of yours. “Better.”

“Good,” he hummed. You watched the fire for a little bit before shifting again to get comfortable.

“Stop moving,” Quinn rasped and you moved again to look up at him, earning a small groan. You were about to ask what was wrong but you felt it. He gave you a pointed look as you smirked, feeling him hard underneath you.

“What’s wrong Huggy?” You teased as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t be a tease,” he grunted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. Looking around to see everyone engrossed in their own conversations, you smirked before resting your head on his shoulder for a second, bringing your lips to his neck, and nipping at the skin.

Quinn lifted you off his lap, standing up with his hand holding onto yours tightly.

“I think we’re going to head out,” he told Rachel and Paul. Rachel looked at you knowingly and stood up to hug you goodbye. You said goodbye to some other friends before following Quinn through the house and back out towards your car.

The car was filled with a charged silence as you and Quinn sat next to each other, both knowing what was about to happen.

You broke the stillness by casually asking, "Your place or mine?" Quinn's eyes flickered down to your lips, and without a word, he leaned over the console and grabbed the side of your head, pulling you closer to him. His lips met yours in a fiery kiss, his breath mingling with yours as he punished you for your teasing at the bonfire earlier. Your body responded eagerly, melting into his touch as you whimpered into the kiss. A small smirk tugged at Quinn's lips before he pulled back, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Your place as long as this isn’t a one-time thing,” he said and your eyes widened as you caught your breath.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“I don’t do one-night stands,” he said simply and you tried to understand his words.

“So you want to hook up more than once,” you said, and he chuckled, looking at you in amusement.

"Forget just hooking up, princess. I want to take you out on real dates. I want to be by your side constantly. I need to see you outside of work, in every moment possible," he declared, his words igniting a fiery passion in your heart.

“But it’s really not allowed,” you said, shoulders sagging.

“There is no rule against it,” he countered and you sat back thoughtfully.

“Fine,” you agreed and he smiled. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“I’d be insane not to like you,” he said and you pressed your lips to his again, softer this time.

You were nervous as you made the drive to your apartment. Quinn was quiet in the seat next to you, but his hand on your thigh assured you that he wanted this. He followed you out of the garage and up to your apartment, taking in the cozy space that was so you.

After throwing your keys on the counter and taking your jacket off you stood facing him wanting him to make the next move. He eyed you slowly before coming towards you, raising his hand to hold the side of your head.

“Are you sure?” He whispered and you hummed in agreement. That was all it took and his lips were on yours, his other hand pulling your hips into him. His lips moved harshly against yours, nipping at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp.

Hands finding your ass, he lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around him as he carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down gently, without breaking the kiss, hovering over your body.

Quinn's hands roamed your body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. You arched into him, craving more contact. He broke away to trail kisses down your neck, sucking gently at your pulse point.

"Quinn," you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

You blushed at his words, pulling him back down to capture his lips again. Your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his abs. Quinn groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

Sitting up slightly, he tugged off his shirt before helping you remove yours. His eyes roamed your newly exposed skin hungrily.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, pulling him back down to you. "I'm sure," you whispered against his lips.

Quinn's hands skimmed down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before cupping your breasts. You gasped as his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest.

His mouth replaced his hands, tongue swirling around one nipple as his fingers teased the other. You arched into him, hands fisting in his hair as pleasure coursed through you.

Quinn continued his path downward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach. He looked up at you as he unbuttoned your jeans, silently asking permission. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your thong.

Quinn's eyes roamed over your now fully nude form, a look of awe on his face. "You're incredible," he breathed.

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his stubble creating delicious friction against your sensitive skin. When he reached your center, he placed a gentle kiss there before slowly running his tongue along your folds.

You gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. Quinn gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued his attention. His tongue circled your clit before sucking it into his mouth, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

"Quinn, please," you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

He slid a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that made you see stars. Adding a second finger, he pumped them in and out in tandem with the movements of his tongue.

“Fuck Quinn I’m gonna cum,” you whined out and he increased his pace. Your hands were gripping the sheets on either side of you and you struggled in his hold as your orgasm washed over you. He cleaned you up before coming back up to kiss your lips.

Quinn kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh through his jeans. Reaching down, you palmed him through the fabric, causing him to groan into your mouth.

"These need to come off," you murmured, tugging at his waistband.

Quinn quickly shed his remaining clothes, kicking them off the bed. Your eyes roamed his now naked form appreciatively. He was all lean muscle, his body honed from years of hockey.

"Like what you see?" he asked with a smirk.

"Very much," you replied, pulling him back down to you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his length slide against your wet folds. Quinn reached between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance. He paused, looking into your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked one final time and you nodded, gasping as he pushed into you. “Fuck princess, you’re so tight.”

Quinn stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. You rolled your hips, signaling him to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, gradually building up speed.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Quinn quickened his pace, his hips slamming into yours. You could feel your climax building, the pressure coiling in your belly.

Suddenly, Quinn changed positions, pulling you on top of him and sitting up against the headboard. He held onto your hips as you rode him, setting a pace that had both of you panting.

You leaned back, hands on his thighs for support as you tilted your hips to hit that spot inside you again and again. Quinn's fingers dug into your skin as he watched you pleasure yourself on him.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this," he groaned, and it pushed you over the edge.

You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you once again, Quinn following soon after with a loud groan.

You lay there, panting and tangled in each other’s arms. Quinn pressed kisses along your neck and jaw, before pulling out of you.

"That was incredible," he said, flopping down beside you.

"Mhmm," you agreed, snuggling into his side.

“I was being serious about what I said earlier,” he said and you looked up to him. “I want all of you.”

“Then you can have me,” you said leaning up to kiss him.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine

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fgumi · 5 months ago

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★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆𖦹✮₊ ⊹ FOR NOW

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; romance, one shot, WC; 2.5k, ASK; where reader and him have been friends for a while, A/N; for @t0asterexe, i hope this can help you find that closure. i didn't know if you wanted to share your whole ask; so, out of privacy, i only included the first bit of it! remember, your light is sososo bright and you are loved! }

it started as a handful of late-night food runs. the kind where you’re both too tired to think straight, your brains fried from endless studying, and the only cure seemed to be cheap fries and a soda from a corner diner. at first, it was casual—a spontaneous text here and there, the convenience of living nearby making it easy. but those quick runs turned into longer ones, the conversations stretching into the early hours of the morning.

you and heeseung quickly became inseparable. it wasn’t just about grabbing snacks anymore; it was the way you could talk to him about anything. gossip about classmates, random theories about the universe, and those unfiltered, vulnerable thoughts that you never really shared with anyone else. with heeseung, it felt natural. comfortable. like he just… got you.

your friendship began to grow in the small moments, the ones that didn’t seem significant at first but stayed with you. like the study sessions. what started as mutual cramming turned into playful debates and quiet laughter. heeseung had a way of making even the most boring material feel bearable—or at least distracting you enough to forget how much you hated it.

“i can’t do this anymore,” he’d groan dramatically, dropping his head onto the table like a defeated warrior. “you’re not failing,” you’d say, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “here, let me show you…” when you leaned over to point out the solution, he’d glance up at you with a grin, his expression so genuinely grateful it made your heart skip. “you’re a genius,” he’d say, his voice soft and warm, and you’d tuck that moment away, holding it closer than you should have.

then there was the night he made the playlist. you’d been driving to a diner when he decided he was in charge of the music. “you can’t just play anything,” he argued, scrolling through his phone with laser focus. “the vibe has to match the moment.” “and what’s the vibe for greasy burgers at midnight?” you teased. instead of answering, he played a soft acoustic track that fit the stillness of the night perfectly. by the time you pulled into the parking lot, your favorite artist was playing, and you turned to him, surprised. “wait, how’d you know i liked them?” he shrugged casually, but the corner of his mouth curved up in a way that felt deliberate. “i pay attention.” the butterflies in your stomach felt impossible to ignore.

there were bigger moments, too—ones that made your heart twist in ways you didn’t expect. like the time it rained. you’d been caught on campus in a sudden downpour, water dripping from your hair and soaking your clothes as you huddled under the nearest awning. just as you were trying to wring out your jacket, your phone buzzed: “are you seriously standing there in the rain?” before you could reply, you spotted heeseung jogging toward you, hoodie held above his head. “here,” he said, shoving it into your hands before you could protest. “what about you?” you asked, already feeling guilty. “i’ll survive,” he teased, shaking water from his hair. “can’t have you catching a cold, though. you’d complain too much.” it was lighthearted, but there was something in his gaze that lingered—a quiet kind of care that left you blushing as you pulled the hoodie over your head.

and then, of course, there were the music nights. you’d both escape the monotony of studying to sit on the floor of his room with your guitars, letting the melodies carry you into the early hours. “what’s something you’ve never told anyone before?” he asked one night, his voice soft as he strummed aimlessly. you hesitated but eventually confessed a childhood fear that still crept up on you now and then. you expected him to laugh or tease you, but instead, he nodded thoughtfully, then shared one of his own. by the end of the night, you’d written a song about those fears and the comfort of not having to face them alone. it wasn’t something you recorded or uploaded, but the lyrics stayed with you, just like the moment.

it wasn’t just these little things—it was all of them together. the way he made you feel seen, the way his attention felt like sunlight on your skin. at first, the feelings were small, ignorable—a fleeting blush when his hand brushed yours or the way your heart raced when he laughed. but the more you were with him, the more those feelings grew, consuming you in a way that was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

heeseung wasn’t just your best friend anymore. he was someone you wanted to hold onto, even if you didn’t know how to say it yet.

a quiet night in heeseung’s room found the two of you sprawled on the floor, your laptops and notebooks scattered between empty snack wrappers and a barely-touched cup of coffee. you’d been talking about new song ideas when heeseung leaned back against his bedframe, stretching his arms over his head.

“alright,” he said, glancing over at you. “show me what you’ve been working on.”

you hesitated. the song you’d been writing felt different from anything you’d done before—raw and deeply personal. it wasn’t just a song; it was a confession hidden in chords and lyrics, a mirror reflecting emotions you couldn’t bring yourself to say aloud. still, you reached for your phone and played the rough recording.

as your voice filled the room, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, nervously twisting a strand of your hair. when the last note faded, you glanced up, unsure of what to expect. heeseung’s expression was soft, his brows slightly furrowed as if he was processing every word.

for now wasn’t just about love. it was about the quiet ache of wanting something you weren’t sure you could ever have. it was about the fear of what felt inevitable—the thought that one day, you might have to let this go. let him go.

the lyrics spoke to those lingering desires, the ones that kept you awake at night. how you clung to the present because the future felt too uncertain. how you wanted to stay in this moment, just the two of you, forever—even if forever wasn’t something you could ask for.

you swallowed hard, the weight of those emotions pressing against your chest as you reached for your phone. “it’s still a rough demo,” you said, playing the recording.

your voice filled the room, soft and bittersweet, each word carrying a piece of your heart. as the final note faded, you glanced at heeseung, your hands twisting nervously in your lap. his expression was thoughtful, his brows slightly furrowed as if he was trying to unravel the meaning behind the song.

“this is amazing,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. “it’s like… i don’t know, it feels real. like you’re saying something you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.”

you swallowed hard, trying not to read too much into his words. “thanks,” you murmured, feeling a warmth rise in your chest.

after a beat, he sat forward, his eyes lighting up. “i want to help. let me play guitar for it.”

“you want to collaborate on this?” you asked, startled but excited.

“of course. your voice deserves more than just a backing track.” he grinned, reaching for his guitar. “come on, let’s make some magic.”

from that night on, for now became your shared project. anytime you could escape the grind of studying, you’d meet up to work on it. heeseung brought out a side of you that made creating feel easy—like it was just the two of you against the world, building something that mattered.

sometimes, he’d sit cross-legged on his bed, strumming melodies as you hummed along, experimenting with harmonies. other times, you’d playfully argue over lyrics, heeseung insisting on tweaking a line while you rolled your eyes and teased him about being a perfectionist.

“what about this?” he’d say, playing a progression that tugged at your heartstrings. “that’s perfect,” you’d reply, your voice soft, and he’d flash you a proud grin that made your stomach flip.

it was in these moments that your feelings for him grew even deeper. like the time you were rehearsing the bridge, and he suddenly stopped mid-strum, looking up at you. “you sound so good,” he said, almost absentmindedly, like he couldn’t help but say it. the sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you quickly glanced away, pretending to adjust your notebook.

or the time he showed up to one of your sessions with a small box of your favorite pastries. “for the genius behind the lyrics,” he said with a wink, handing it to you. you laughed, but your chest tightened with the realization of how thoughtful he always was.

one night, as you worked through the final chorus, you found yourself watching him more than the music. the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the soft hum of concentration in his throat, the little smile he gave you whenever you nailed a tricky vocal run—it all felt so natural, so intimate. you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed the way your breath hitched when he looked at you.

by the end of the month, the song was nearly finished, but you found yourself wishing it wasn’t. every session with heeseung felt like a stolen moment, a place where your feelings could live even if you couldn’t bring yourself to say them aloud. and sometimes, just sometimes, you caught him looking at you with an expression that made you wonder if he felt the same.

the song was almost finished, but your feelings? they felt like they were spilling over, impossible to contain. you’d spent the past month pouring your heart into for now, hiding pieces of your emotions in every lyric, every note. working so closely with heeseung had only deepened the ache in your chest. it wasn’t just the way he smiled when you nailed a high note or the way he’d randomly text you ideas for the song in the middle of the night—it was the way being with him felt like home.

you couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore.

the decision to confess hadn’t come easily. for weeks, you’d debated every angle: what if he didn’t feel the same? what if it ruined everything? but the thought of not telling him—of letting this stay bottled up—felt worse. if there was even a chance he might feel the same way, you had to take it.

one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you texted heeseung on a whim: “park tonight?”

his reply came almost instantly. “always. usual spot?”

the park had always been your sanctuary. you’d lost count of how many late nights you’d spent wandering its winding paths, sharing secrets under the glow of the streetlights. by the time you arrived, the air was cool, the distant hum of crickets blending with the soft rustling of leaves. heeseung was waiting by a bench near the pond, his guitar slung over his back as always. his smile when he saw you was instant—bright and warm, like it was meant just for you.

“hey,” he said, waving you over. “i was just about to text you. i have a new idea for the bridge—”

“can we talk?” you interrupted, your voice quieter than usual.

heeseung paused mid-sentence, his brows knitting together in concern. “of course. what’s up?”

you gestured for him to sit, and he followed your lead, dropping onto the bench beside you. for a moment, neither of you said anything. you stared out at the pond, watching the moonlight ripple across the surface. the words you’d rehearsed so many times in your head now felt impossibly heavy, caught in your throat.

“hey,” heeseung said again, his voice gentler now. he nudged your shoulder lightly, the way he always did when he wanted to make you smile. “you’re scaring me a little. what’s going on?”

you took a deep breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “there’s something i need to tell you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “it’s… it’s kind of important.”

heeseung shifted slightly, his full attention now on you. “okay,” he said softly. “i’m listening.”

you opened your mouth, the words hovering on the tip of your tongue, but before you could get them out, heeseung blurted, “i like you.”

the words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned. for a moment, you weren’t sure you’d heard him right. your heart skipped, your breath caught, and the world seemed to tilt ever so slightly.

heeseung’s eyes widened, his face flushing red as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “i—uh—” he stammered, running a hand through his hair. “i didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. i had this whole thing planned, but—look, i’ve liked you for a while, okay? i didn’t say anything because i didn’t want to mess this up. you’re my best friend, and working on the song with you, it just… it made me realize how much i—”

his words tumbled over each other, raw and unfiltered. he was rambling now, trying to fill the silence as your mind raced to catch up. every piece of the puzzle clicked into place—his lingering gazes, the way his touches lingered just a second too long, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

you didn’t let him finish.

before he could talk himself in circles, you leaned forward, your hand reaching up to gently cup his face. his eyes widened briefly in surprise before fluttering shut as you kissed him. for a split second, everything stilled—the world, your thoughts, your nerves—until the warmth of his hands found your waist, pulling you closer.

the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as if both of you wanted to savor the moment. one of his hands slipped up to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. you could feel his heartbeat, fast and steady, mirroring your own.

when you finally pulled back, your cheeks were burning, and heeseung’s lips were parted slightly, his expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.

“so,” he said after a moment, his voice breathless but tinged with a teasing grin. “does this mean you accept my confession, or should i do it again?”

you laughed softly, your forehead resting against his as you closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the warmth spreading through your chest. “i think i got the message.”

heeseung smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. “good. because i meant every word.”

for the first time in weeks, the weight in your chest lifted, replaced by something brighter, warmer. whatever came next, you knew you’d face it together.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you may now leave requests (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

tagged; @en-dream @heeheesang

#enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: 𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: one shot

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thatswhatsushesaid · 5 months ago

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me: sigh i think my jgy hyper-fixation is finally fading. oh well i knew this would happen eventua—

some idiot on reddit: it was totally within jin guangyao’s power to execute xue yang, and also he should have done this because he SWORE an OATH to nmj, it was nmj’s RIGHT to make this demand of him

me:

#salty peak sect 🧂#i have the source of this shit take blocked on reddit because they started harassing me and left a threatening comment on one of my posts #but someone else shared a screenshot of their latest bad faith screed and i started howling with laughter #i’d be embarrassed to share such a blinkered and misinformed take so confidently #but then again this person seems to have no compunctions about boundary-crossing so i’m probably expecting too much of them #jin guangyao #he did crimes??? good for him 😌

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darlingchronicles · 1 year ago

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JJ AND THE GOLDEN GIRL HEADCANONS

pairing: jj x fem!goodgirl!reader

word count: 3.2K

based on this and this post that i made. enjoy !!!

✔︎JJ's habits

always watching her. not in a creepy way, but in a curious and somewhat protective way. she's either reading, studying, watching a comfort show or doing something she likes. jj finds her just fascinating not matter what she does. he admires her so much and the fact that he finds her absolutely beautiful is a plus. her mind is always working as well. always thinking. the way she picks her bottom lip or twirls her hair with her finger whenever she's concentrating just drives him wild and sometimes he wish he could read her mind just to find out what's got her attention. however, she also has a tendency to read while she walks or gets distracted by something she's concentrating on and it has lead to his hyper-vigilance. he's caught her after she trips on her own foot almost thirty times since they began dating and pulled her from walking across a busy street more than five times already. he's also had a hand in shielding her from people who seemed suspicious or invasive at keggers. not that he's complaining, he enjoys being her knight in shining armor at times since he usually believes he's the villain.

always willing to lend a hand. no like literally. lend her his hand. she has a tendency to fidget when she's nervous or bored or just in general is always moving in some manner. she was also a chronic nail biter when she was younger and has been trying to kick the habit since. therefore, she's always chewing gum or has a jolly rancher on hand or twirls her rings and bracelets around (if she wears them). one day, she forgot all of the above when she went to hang out at the chateau with jj, john b and pope and was not feeling her best. jj noticed and put his hand in hers and she immediately began to play with his fingers, his rings and bracelet and it calmed her down. now whether she has gum or her accessories, jj always lends his hands whenever he notices her cracking her neck more than twice or shaking her leg. he could be mid-conversation with someone and he'd just hand his hand over and continue talking. she always leaves a thank you by kissing the palm or back of his hand.

always willing to dress up. as they continue dating, she ends up having a preference with how he dresses. she loves his sleeveless shirts, when his hair is messy, his rings, his long gray crewneck sweaters, his red hat and the bandana he wears. she loves all his outfits, really, but these items are just the cherry on top. he notices it (she tends to cling to him more when he wears his sleeveless shirts or stare at him a little longer when he has messy hair) and ends up trying to wear these whenever he has the chance. he likes the little twinkle in her eye whenever she sees him in one of these outfits (or has the accessory). eventually he began to tease her about it and she never admits it but he knows. he just knows.

always ready to hug. growing up, he's never really had physical affection and he's never been in a long-term relationship before so affection is kind of hard for him in the beginning. however once he realizes that she loves to hug him, not just in a romantic way but in a platonic way; it's like she's telling him that's she's there for him and she feels safe around him, he's ready to give her a hug. if she even indicates for a second she wants one, he's already got his arms around her. heck, sometimes she just reaches behind him to grab something and his arms wrap around her waist and pull her in. she appreciates it ever single time. and it also heals a part of jj as he begins to believe that he's not unlovable.

always willing to learn. okay so jj and the golden girls aren't totally similar. in fact, they're pretty much opposites. pope has more in common with her (at least in the beginning). she studies when she has to and as she becomes friends with the group, she does it at the chateau. eventually, one day she asked jj to help her and although he'd rather get day drunk and pay for it the next day, he sucks it up and helps her. he ends up learning a little bit about the history of the King Henry the Eight and his six wives and the way to write an AP Lit. essay and although he can hardly understand any of it, he does it ever single time she asks. eventually he is able to pick up on certain things she's saying and can comment on it. he learns that a way to her heart is through paying attention to her and what she says and he does it without even thinking anymore. he also learns that she's different from the girls he's fooled around with or even somewhat liked, so he learns more about her and her likes, dislikes, hobbies, beliefs, work ethic, love language and more. he wants to learn and for once, he agrees with the saying "learning is fun". in return, she makes an effort to learn more about him.

always willing to teach. golden girl is inexperienced to say the least. it doesn't make her inferior, it just wasn't time and she wasn't comfortable having her firsts with someone who she wasn't in a relationship with. jj notices, in the beginning, that she's hesitant to make the first move when it comes to kissing. she later confesses (through massive coaxing on jj's part) that he was her first kiss and she doesn't know if she was doing it correctly or if she was doing something wrong or if he didn't want her to kiss him as much as she wanted to so she got nervous. jj just chuckled and offered to teach her. it started off slow and then...intense. turns out she's a fast learner and jj's somewhat suspicious on how she caught on so fast, but then again, he is the one to pull her away from where they are in order to have some alone time, so yeah. (although they haven't taken that step yet it's only a matter of time). this ended in multiple makeout sessions in different locations - his room at the chateau, in the living room when no one was there, in the corner of the beach during a kegger, in her room when her parents weren't home, the twinkie (john b doesn't know about this one and they don't want him to know). turns out, he's a pretty good teacher when he wants to be.

✔︎ JJ's quirks

lays on top of her. jj has a tendency to collapse on whatever surface or bed there is when he's tired. he doesn't even look at the bed. just falls and he's out. she's napping in jj's room at the chateau when he comes in, exhausted, from hauling around groceries for heyward. he made money, but he's beat. he took a shower, didn't even bother to put on a shirt and fell onto the bed. right onto her. he doesn't really notice the body underneath him and just wraps his arms around her and knocks out. however, she notices, waking up from the weight off jj on her chest. she tries to push him away and eventually maneuvers her body so she's on top of him and he's beneath her. this doesn't end well as jj always sleeps on his stomach. and this isn't the last time it happens. she swears that he does it on purpose. (maybe sometimes he does).

calls her the most absurb nicknames. her name is reserved for certain and rare moments and everything else has certain timing. he calls her troublemaker as a contrast to her actual behavior, and also when she's coming along on his little adventures. he calls her goody-two-shoes because well...she is. he calls her baby or babe whenever he wants her attention. he calls her princess in those very rare and private moments, but also he also uses it when he's teasing her. he calls her little lady whenever he's trying to be a gentlemen. and then...there's the other ones. he calls her wormy because she's a bookworm and he thought it was funny. he calls her grumpelstiltskin whenever she's extra grumpy or annoyed. he also thought it was funny to call her flounder when he found out she was scared of sharks. it's not all one sided though because she has a book full of nicknames and some are just as ridiculous. they try to one up each other constantly.

loyal to the end. jj finds loyalty to be the thing he wants most in friendships and eventually, his relationship. that's because jj is loyal beyond belief. it could be counted as his fatal flaw. his friends are his family and family is meant to be protected and something to defend no matter what. she becomes a part of that. he can and will fight if he needs to or even if he wants to. she doesn't find some thing willing or worthy of fighting, but she doesn't see it how jj does. he sees it as disrespect on his family, on his girlfriend, if someone made a comment or even looked at her weird. heck even if john b would to get pissed off and start a fight and jj would be cheering for him even if john b was wrong. and with her? someone who chose him? someone who wants to be with him no matter what? his loyalty is undying. she could be wrong, she could be right, she could be wining or losing, whatever it was, he was by her side, supporting.

ఌ Golden Girl's habits

always looking five steps ahead. jj is not in need of babying. she knows this. he's sixteen and knows there are consequences to his actions even if he's not in favor of those consequences. however, she gets to know that he is reckless because he thinks he knows everything will turn out like he plans it out. but, sometimes it doesn't. and when he's cornered, she already had a way out. sometimes she laughs with smile because she loves his adventures and how he plans with a childlike imagination. but even then, she likes to plan in her head in case anything goes wrong. she doesn't want jj to end up in jail or in major trouble (or any of the pogues) but even she admits that running from the cops is kind of fun and although she may have had a minor anxiety attack the first time, she was glad she already planned and knew the local back roads instead of the main highway. she tends to always have a food or a first aid kit in her bag in case of anything and if she's not there when the boys get stupid, her phone is always turned on. she knows she can depend on him when she's in trouble and jj knows he can depend on her.

always reassuring. she grew up a pogue so she understood bad and horrible home lives. she didn't have it all that bad, but it wasn't always pretty. jj on the other hand. she's heard and eventually seen the results of him and his father fighting. this resulted in jj having a deep rooted belief that he was unlovable. he believed he had to earn love. she quickly picked on it and tried to show him that he wasn't. she did things for him, never asked questions if he didn't want to answer, gave him space, gave him words and affection with reassurance wrap in it. he once asked if she ever got tired of him and she merely answered with "i could never be tired and i never will be". she said it with such confidence that a part of him began to believe it. little by little they were both healing parts of themselves, but her habit of reassurance always helps him stay ground. and in return, she has his undying devotion and admiration that includes reassurance of his own.

always willing to try something new. she's not that fond of getting into trouble and jj's middle name is trouble (and he calls her troublemaker ironically) but when jj suggests they go and do something kind of illegal like spend the night in one of the "in-progress" kook houses, she sucks up her fear and goes along. she's worried, but is willing to be apart of jj's recklessness because it's a part of him. she can't fight it so she'd join him. little by little, she gets more comfortable as she begins to understand that jj would never endanger her and if he had to, he'd take the blame for everything if it meant she'd stay out of trouble. and little by little, she enjoys getting into trouble with him and him only. after their little adventures are done and they're resting for the night, she only smiles and wonders what the next one is.

always leans towards him. the golden girl is use to the dangerousness of the southside as she lives there, but sometimes, even she gets scared or worried. it's just the world we live in. whenever they go out, she began a habit of leaning towards jj or moving near him. she knows that he would always protect her and would die trying to do so. of course she has a mean can of pepper spray and a punch that could send a grown man to the floor, but having jj next to her has her more relaxed. even if she wasn't afraid or in danger, she tend to grab his hand or lean her head on his shoulder without even thinking. having the physical contact with him makes her so happy because he's allowing her into his space and she's touch starved so much that it just makes her so giddy. and jj always puts his arm around her, holds her hand, kisses her cheek or pushes her hair out of her face. he leans towards her as well.

always smiles at him. her smile is something jj sees constantly. and she doesn't fake it at all. she happy to see him, hear his voice, watch him try some stupid thing with pope and john b. and jj is also funny guy and although he says the most absurd things, she can't' help, but smile. it's just an impulse. the joke could be the worst thing or could be a repeated one from the week before, but she always smiles. she learned that jj tells jokes to those he deems worthy of hearing them and they could be in the worst situation and he'd try to lighten the mood. he hated things being tense and worrisome, so he told jokes. she always smiles to show she appreciates them and she never wanted him to stop. jj has begun to recognize all her smiles - the coy ones, the teasing ones, the genuine one, the sarcastic one.

ఌ Golden Girl's quirks

watches and speaks to jj as he sleeps. it began with a romance book she read while having a sleepover at the chateau. the characters reminded her of the two of them. the boy was wild but sweet and the girl was independent but ambitious. it was a wonderful love story and she felt so grateful that she ended up with someone like jj. she ended up sleeping with jj in his room and she just watched him breath. he slept on his stomach with his arm splayed across her waist. his lips were slightly parted. his hair sticking out everywhere because he moves. he looked so peaceful and calm. it's one of her favorite moments with jj when she can admire him without him noticing. just a small moment where she can speak beautiful things out into the night. how she was grateful for him. how she thought he looked like an angel sleeping. how she couldn't believe he chose her and tries everyday. she tells him how she notices everything about him. she'll whisper to him until she falls asleep, hoping that her words will melt into his dreams. and sometimes it does but he doesn't know it's because she's talking to him as he sleeps. he wakes up with a smile and turns over to look at her sleeping, deciding to just admire her for a little before he wakes her up.

connects him with songs and stories. any love story you can think of, she's thought of jj and her in it. any love song whether it be taylor swift or frank sinatra, she danced in room thinking of her and jj. it's so cute and she hopes that jj never finds out because he would totally tease her. it's without provocation at this point. the other day, she heard "paper rings" on the radio and nodded in agreement as she thought of it with her and jj. she went for ice cream after work and jj was working with john b and she thought of allie and noah for a moment, agreeing with the notion that she'd have a long summer romance with him if she was a touron, but they'd make it in the end, and continued on with her day. some called her lovesick or just a teenager, but she doesn't care. it's her first love and she's also his, so she allowed herself those thoughts and moments. a part of her knew that it would end well. she just knew.

gets him little gifts. she works, but she also likes the little home made gifts. she got really into origami when she was younger and likes to take the gum wrappers after she popped the gum in her mouth and make hearts with them. the first time she did it around jj, she handed it to him and went on studying. jj still has it in his wallet next to polaroid of the two of them sleeping together on the hammock during a sunset (taken by sarah). she's made him a bracelet. she saw a hat she thought he'd like and put it in his room to find. she noticed his shoelaces wearing out so she got new ones and replaced the old ones. she's made him a mixtape of all his favorite songs on a CD so he could listen to it in the Twinkie. she's written him a love letter before, but she refuses to give it to him. yet. she made a little plate during her pottery class in high school and put it in his room so he had a place to put all his rings and bracelets so he didn't loose it. she even made him a few origami cranes, swans and other animals because he kept asking. (he wants to ask her to teach him one of these days). he notices and feels touched, but he doesn't know how to express it because she clearly doesn't want a thank you. she just wants to do it. so he repays her in certain ways. once she grabbed a random rock from beach and ended up drawing on it with sharpie. she left it in his room for him to find with a little note saying she named it "rocky" and he would live with him. (jj ended up making "rockette" and she lives with golden girl in her room. they make jokes about sharing custody all the time).

thedarlinglore: this concept of jj with the golden girl (or good girl) just has my damn heart. like it makes me wanna giggle and write for hours. soooooo a FIC IS COMING SOON! i'm drafting rn and i am not busy this week so hopefully it only takes like 3 days bc i like to write longgggggg fics (my last was 18.8k). you might enjoy that one while i write this one. hope you enjoyed!

➣ my last "jj" work | "oh schroeder"

#darlingchronicles #jj maybank #jj maybank concept #jj maybank blurb #darlingconcepts #outerbanks #obx #outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #outer banks headcanons #goldengirl!reader

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soulcccat · 1 month ago

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Welcome to the World of Total Drama Arms Race! Pt 7: A Ridonculus Race and a Ridonculus Change of Pace (Pt-1 of the cast).

It's gonna be a double post cuz there's alot of pics lol

Growing up Noah, he expected little in life. The runt of 9 kids, he had the smarts and mobility to evade his hordes of “jockheaded freaks that he shared blood with”, and claimed his way out of the rush for life… by not even playing through it

And then the whole Demon-killing, saving the world, trauma-conga-line, fiasco that was the summers of 2010 and 2012 hit. Fighting for something greater, bonding with people he’d never in his life expect to. Two years, and he found himself as the commander of a mercenary group alongside Heather, and the blossoming start of something called the Coalition, a planetary alliance of Countries, magical groups, and the Blessed, united in defeating the Demons of the Legion.

…And all the paper work/ logistic/ politics/ R&D/ commanding/ fighting that comes with it. In a year, the now 21 year old Commander of the Coalition is

God. Damn. Exhausted.

Aloof, tired, once had to stay up for a week to expedite a few things alongside Heather. Decided to take the work because he saw how awfully processed it was.

And for self-proclaimed “efficiently” cut contact with his family>

All along, it was obvious that Noah was basically running himself until his proverbial pencil shortens to nothing. A stark contrast to the lazy bum of TDI. Owen knows, Heather knows really well, and Bridgette and Alejandro is concerned he’s gonna snap. So one night, they concocted a somewhat grandious plan, after Geoff crashed in drunk with an insane idea.

4 of them sign up for this new Reality competition called “The Ridonculus Race”. Before Heather called him a complete dumbass, Owen actually agreed. He thinks it’s good to get him back into something familiar, even if it wasn’t great. Which convinced the rest, funnily enough, because they trusted Owen’s Judgement on his little buddy.

With much complaining and groaning, the two used some fake names, ensured their heavy-duty combat armor ensured proper disguises, and joined the show as the “Reality TV Pros” (Much to Tyler and Leshawna’s confusion.) . Even with Geoff joining with his bud, and the new recruit, Leonard bringing his “apprentice”, Noah completly lauded the stupidity of this idea.

And then he met Ema “Emma” and Kiti Eguchi. 2 Japanese sisters that little did either know, crossed paths 2 years ago, at the dawn of Noah’s fated journey to save the world from hell. But a story for another time, this isn’t Nemma’s story yet, this is the story of the RR cast.

Their weapons came in groups of 8, a bit like the first venture, and a bit like the other casts. But unlike the first 3, who had to figure all this on their own, veterans within their ranks would train the rest of the cast, to become stronger. And throughout, members of the coalition would pop by to say hi, chat, smooth, and most importantly,

Assess their potential.

They had a mountain to climb in this marathon of mind and body, some held by their past, their fear of the future, and their place in the world. Though their hearts maybe rotten at times, even pushed to limits and hearts leading to rash decisions.

The generation of the RR held, and prospered. Thanks to the veterans, each other, and even the bonds that formed, they were ready to handle the duties of the blessed. All proven, when a Demon cult called the Hand of Abbadon, were plotting to finally slay these new contestants by

For 2 years since, peace was held. Progress was abundant, the world advanced. Everything from new power-sources, to intergration of Magic and technology to everyday lives, and even the creation of ships and mechs only dreamed of in fiction. Some asked their beloved for their hand in marriage, particularly Noah and Emma, and finally Alejandro and Heather. Finally, since Heather’s been hinting to want it in her The globe prepared and advanced for the Legions eventual arrival. The first rift generator was created. And a new frontier was available for the Coalition and Blessed for something researched back in Area 51 allowed for piercing the dimensional veil.

And when that veil was pierced, and the Coalition took to the offensive against demon assaults in other worlds. They were watched, by the ever growing banner of Conquest. The Demon God of Pride.

A necessary peace, a developing armament of the human race. For 2015 was the start of the Dreaded 5 Year Siege, that changed everything.

#total drama #total drama au #total drama arms race #character design #ooc #total drama fanart #td noah #rr emma #td owen #total drama ridonculous race

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cinnamonest · 1 year ago

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Yan childe x teacher reader BUT the reader has a lover OMG I CAN'T-

//cucking + filming noncon, age gap, Ajax is an awful little bastard as usual

(also here's the original Delinquent!Childe x Teacher!Reader post, and the second sequel post)

Oh anon. Anon. I love this, but consider: take it a step further.

The poor boy finding out that his precious teacher he’s been fantasizing about fucking silly is MARRIED.

Typing away on her keyboard when his eyes drift and he stiffens up when he sees the ring he never noticed before. The pain. The horror. Devastated.

He’s never even met the guy, and yet he hates him so much. It’s not fair that he got to you first, just because he was born earlier than he was!

He’s probably not good enough for you. Some old guy who can’t rail you with the vigor and intensity that a young guy like himself can, probably can’t keep up with your drive either. You must be so frustrated and unsatisfied.

Now it feels so awful on his tongue to call you what he normally does. Miss _____, he says, and it feels like he’s spewing poison from his mouth, knowing it’s some other man’s name practically forced on you by dumb traditions and social standards (not that he wouldn’t do the same, but that’s different). It makes his chest hurt to hear it, the name feels like a constant reminder that some other man basically has laid claim to you, that the name marks you as belonging to someone who isn’t him.

He does some digging, finds everything he can on the guy, any online profiles or social accounts. Ugh. You deserve better. If it were him, he would just support you himself, you wouldn’t have to slave away doing paperwork all the time.

Even worse is the fact that the guy has a nice job — you know, the kind you need some higher degrees for, which he definitely won’t get seeing as his behavioral record is pretty much guaranteed to keep him out of any credible institution… still, you don’t need that much money to get by. Sure, he’ll never make that much (without getting into crime, at least, which isn’t an impossibility…), but still, he’s better for you.

It’s so much worse, though, when he stalks your accounts, sees pictures of the two of you together. Makes him feel sick to his stomach, you look happy and he doesn’t like that. He ends up having to close the window, unable to handle any further emotional damage.

He starts to pry, little by little. Can’t be too blatant, but he slips in a question every now and then — how you met, what you two do for fun, so on and so on. It makes his stomach churn to hear you talk about him, but he can’t refrain from continuing to ask, practically a compulsive urge.

God forbid you express any sort of discontentment. Even the slightest frustrated sigh, passive-aggressive comment in regards to the man, and so on, he perks up and zeros in. Oh, so you are unhappy. Typical unsatisfied wife that’s getting pent up from unmet needs and all that.

He’s very attentive to those complaints, the things you mutter under your breath and the implications of it all. He works too long and is never home (terrible, he would never leave you so lonely), he’s never helpful around the home (which wouldn’t be so much of an issue if you were home all the time and didn’t have work responsibilities), he suspiciously disappears sometimes for “work trips” or unexplained entirely (unforgiveable, your suspicions are well-founded, he’s definitely cheating and you shouldn’t forgive it).

Sometimes you sigh and shake your head — ah, sorry, I shouldn’t trouble someone your age with all this… but he assures you it’s fine… also he’s searched a list of local divorce attorneys, you know, if you consider that, which you should.

He’s not the best at being subtle or exercising restraint, so he can’t help but actually mention it out loud — life is short, better to divorce than stay in a miserable relationship! But you sigh and say it’s not that serious. He holds out on the hope that there’s an unspoken “yet” at the end of that, that eventually you’ll get fed up.

But you don’t. You keep tolerating it. It’s somewhat understandable, since divorces are difficult and messy, and you would need somewhere to stay and all that.

But getting one’s own place isn’t that hard. He would know, now — he’s actually been picking up odd jobs recently, all to get his own place. Hard to balance that with schoolwork, but he manages (and he’s in the absolute bottom-tier difficulty for courses anyway, with very little actual homework, and it’s not like he’s prepping for college like a lot of his peers). You’re very pleased with it, say you’re proud of him for being so dedicated and responsible, completely unaware that he only really has one intention for doing it all anyway.

He was planning to take that part slowly, ease his way there, but you push the limits of how much he can tolerate when he’s forced to meet the guy face-to-face. He’s just sitting there as per usual in your after-school sessions, talking a mile a minute as per usual, having a good day, completely unprepared for the psychological gut-punch he’s forced to experience when that same face he saw online comes walking right into your classroom. The sacred space that’s supposed to be just for you and him.

His soul is crushed when you get up to greet the guy all happily, practically ignoring him for several extended seconds before you gesture over to where he’s sitting and introduce each other — with himself as the student I’ve been tutoring, you know the one. The man nods, casts a single uncaring glance his direction.

Right. She mentioned you before.

The hell does that mean. He keeps the smile plastered to his face, but it’s twitchy. What did you say? Was it bad? No, you wouldn’t say anything bad about him… except maybe certain factual statements like the whole behavioral record thing, but he can accept that that’s his own fault.

Still, he doesn’t like the way the guy looks at him. A vague condescending, disdainful glance. Makes him curl his hands into fists and clench his jaw. If it weren’t for the whole “impulse management” thing you’ve been hammering into his head for months now, he might have outright attacked the guy.

It’s practically torture to sit there. You say something about how you’re going out for your anniversary, so he came to pick you up. Awful. Like you might as well have stabbed him. Not to mention it’s cutting into what’s supposed to be his time with you, and now he has to leave early.

So he’s forced to walk to the front doors with you both, listening to you talk all happily about where you’re going, while he’s forced to continue to pretend to be perfectly fine with it. Ugh.

You bid him goodbye, and he smiles and waves and walks the opposite way… and the moment you’re out of sight, he’s scowling and grinding his teeth and kicking rocks on the road all the way home, sulking like a petulant kid, imagining all the horrible ways he hopes your date goes terribly wrong.

It makes him seethe all night long, laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, nausea ruining any chance he had of sleeping. He can’t even go sulk around his parents with the hope of getting attention like he used to do when he was mad, now that he lives in this little apartment by himself.

How is he supposed to live under these conditions, no attention available on demand. You don’t even text him to see if he got home safe like you do sometimes. Probably too busy doing whatever with your husband who’s more important than he is. Hmph. His mind briefly flickers to wondering what you’re doing now that it’s later in the night, but the obvious realization only makes him feel ten times more sick. He doesn’t get any rest.

And the longer the night goes on, the more irritated he starts to feel, the misery and hurt begins to turn to bitterness and anger. He starts to feel like you probably know — no, you definitely do. And yet, you willingly tortured him like that. You've been so nice to him, giving him all that attention and affection, knowing you won't ever give him what he really wants and being totally fine with causing him so much pain. He's hurt, and more importantly, mad.

But he can't hate you… your husband, however, is a different story.

That guy kept his arm around your waist walking outside, rubbing it in his face like that. He’s certain that your husband must realize that he loves you (way more than said husband does, for the record), but that look of disdain — he doesn’t even see him as a threat, does he. Thinks that he’s not even proper competition. That much is painful. Bothersome. Annoying. Rage-inducing.

Well, he’s wrong.

That’s the thought that pushes him over the edge. He’s already had the idea in his head for a long time, he just kept bailing out every time he gathered the gall to go through with it, much to his own shame.

But clearly, continuing to be passive is not going to get him anywhere. Come to think of it, a few months ago, he would never have hesitated to go through with whatever impulse struck him, no matter how violent. It’s not like he hasn’t been expelled or arrested before.

He appreciates the time he’s spent with you, but he’s starting to think that all those little speeches about “self-control” and “thinking before you act” and all that have only really just made him docile and tame. How embarrassing.

A man should just take what he wants, right? Anything less is practically a blow to his pride.

He’s still not the brightest when it comes to formulating plans, but his rather straightforward plan ends up working. You actually agree to swing by when he says he has something to give you, something too big to carry to school himself, so he needs you to come pick it up with your car and all that. You must really trust him. Or you’re just naive, maybe, but he likes to think you trust him, however unwise that may be.

He worries that you might back out, but you show right up to his door. The motions from there are mechanical, putting his brain on a sort of autopilot mode in which he just goes through with it, without thinking too much, lest he hesitate, until you’re secured.

Grabbing you by the shoulder and jerking you inside, hand over your mouth, other arm around your waist and picking you up. It's a short distance to the bed (well, mattress on the floor), since it's just a studio apartment and all.

You being so weak makes it so much easier. He can technically tell you're struggling, but it barely feels like resistance, just weak squirming and thrashing that doesn't even loosen his grip in the slightest. You make cute little noises of surprise and confusion and fear, muffled by his hand over your mouth.

Sadly, he can't afford to have you attracting attention from the neighbors, so he's forced to keep you gagged, pulling your shirt over your head (to which your whimpers turn to full-fledged sounds of panic), and — after the brief moment where he has to detach his hand from your mouth, hearing you stammer out a wait, wait— balls it up and stuffs it into your mouth, quickly grabbing the duct tape (he, feeling very proud of himself for such clever forethought, thought to go ahead and tear some long strips off and stick the ends to the wall ahead of time), and placing it over your mouth, flipping you over onto your stomach.

You're so cute. You make the cutest little noises, your eyes get all teary, you squirm and whimper and try to pull yourself away, but he's got your wrists pinned behind your back with one hand, the other pulling your hips back. The cutest part by far has to be when you feel him jerk your skirt up, his cock pressing against your flesh and pushing inside of you, your squeals get louder and higher pitched and you struggle so hard, to no avail.

So mean, though, to pretend like you didn't see it coming. You know what you did. You led him on on purpose. Knowing full well the sort of things he's done to other people — beating his peers black and blue on impulsive whims, getting into fights because he felt like it, stealing stuff and vandalizing stuff and all those other things he knows you know he did, since it's all on his records… you willingly came all by yourself, in private, with someone like that, who you know full well is so much stronger than you are—

What did you fucking expect?

Up until then, the stream of words from his mouth are all amused and teasing and sadistic, but in those words, and the sharp jerking thrust accompanying them, you hear that underlying anger breaking through. You really hurt him, you know, by being married. He loves you so much, and you had to go and do that to me, he says, as if it was a retroactive choice, as if you should have predicted his presence in your life years in advance, as if you willfully did it to spite him years before you knew he existed.

Is it irrational? Sure… but it isn't going to change that he feels that way, and he’s mad and you can't do anything about it anyway, so he's going to keep blaming you for what you did wrong.

He keeps muttering about how stupid you are — for coming here so naively, for choosing your dumb fucking husband over him when he's so much better and loves you so much more, for all the little things you did to lure him in and make him want you so badly, for being so nice to him and having a body you should have known would make him want this so badly.

It's all your fault.

The words get more and more muffled and slurred as the movements get faster, harsher, you squeal with each thrust that makes the springs creak and the whole mattress itself move back and forth against the floor. He points out that you're leaking all over him, fluid drooling out of your hole and spilling onto his hips and thighs, satisfied by the shameful little whimper you make and the way you hang your head. You must not get fucked good enough at home, huh.

And then, he starts to slow down. There's a pause. You see him reach over, to where he tossed a few things that were on you when you came in onto the floor. Fishes something out of your purse.

You made a confused, panicked little sound when you notice he's holding your phone. Easily unlocked, whatever method you use — he holds it up to your face or forces your thumb to press against it, or, most alarmingly, even if it's protected by password or pattern, he enters it with a single try. Shouldn't have opened your phone around him so much, of course he would pay attention to that.

You're flipped onto your back, reeling from the sudden harsh movement, grunting and squirming when your bra is pulled up to your collarbones and your skirt pulled up even further, exposing your body completely before shoving back inside of you, and oh, what a euphoric sound you make — and this time, you visibly clench down on him when he does. Perfectly timed, too.

Your stomach clenches in dread and panic as you see your phone’s front side facing you.

Smile.

You cry out louder than ever before, struggle so hard, so good. His hand latches onto your throat and squeezes hard, and your hands, now no longer in his grasp, reach up to claw at them, all entirely futile. The sound of skin slapping skin reverberates around the room, and you see him tilt the camera downward, ensuring he captures the sight of his cock pounding into you, stretching you apart, all the slick fluid now coating everything from your thighs to his hips, and the sweet, precious sounds you make for him.

He wonders if anyone has ever made you react like this before. If your husband is going to be torn apart by the realization that he's made you feel better than he ever has, that he's better and bigger than him. The sheer fear on your face would suggest that. The thought feels euphoric.

He re-angles himself, leaning forward a bit, ensuring his body presses against your clit — you start to tense up, push back, your heels dig into the mattress and your body writhes with greater force than ever before. Your eyes squeeze shut and you shake your head but he doesn't stop, and you hate yourself so much in the moment for the sensations your body feels, the guilt and despair overwhelm you, you feel a cold chill in your gut — but you finally spasm and shudder on his cock all the same, clearly trying so hard to minimize it and hold back the sounds and movements, but the involuntary shudders and soft little cries are unmistakable all the same.

Normally, he would want to stay inside you longer — but there will be plenty of chance for that later. This time, the prospect of pulling out and capturing it is too tempting, and God, is it satisfying when he does. The squelching sound, the way his cum starts to drool out of you onto the mattress, the way your hole twitches from the sudden absence, slightly agape from the intrusion. It's so, so perfect, better than he could have even imagined.

You rip the tape off your mouth, gagging and coughing from the strain on your throat, and the overwhelming sensation leaves you in a dazed stupor for a few moments… your head slowly drags over to him, and an ice-cold spike of fear strikes through your heart when you see that he's still on your phone.

Slight movement from you as you try to push yourself upright takes his attention away from it, eyes flickering over to you.

Ah, right.

You make a scared little sound and pull your hands close to your chest (very cute!) as he looms over you again, but you're helpless to do anything as he puts the phone down to flip you over again, this time taping your wrists behind your back, adding a new layer over your mouth, and finally one on your ankles. Your struggles barely faze him.

You see him zip his pants back up and pull his shirt back on, standing and making his way over to the door, shuffling his shoes back on before grabbing your car keys.

I'll bring these back. Your place is only five minutes away if I drive, you know. I won’t get into any wrecks this time.

It occurs to you that you've never told him where you live, but it's the least of your concerns then and there. Your heart sinks to your stomach as he takes your phone again, grinning as he types and, after a pause, makes one distinct, final tap that you know can only be hitting 'send.'

His head turns over to you, that same dopey, carefree smile on his face as always, that now seems so much more sinister than before.

Don't worry. He won't have enough time to call the cops.

Your muffled words don't stop him. You writhe pathetically on the ground as the door opens and closes before you, listening in dread and despair as his footsteps slowly fade away.

#lord forgive me but this is the GOOD stuff #like taking reader from her lover/husband/bf by force... hnnnnng

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lillyspeakz · 6 months ago

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just hear me out (let me in)

a/n : bts fic! Have fun! The ending is rushed I apologize!! I have two other fics like this in the works so be patient my loves :)

warnings : making out, a lot of fluff, sexual innuendo(s), pet names, crack basically-

edited: HA! Nope.

wc: 5.6 k

You decided to join the boys on their adventure as they filmed a new music video for their new single, in a Russian submarine.

Wilbur had been sat next to you as you leaned against him, falling asleep on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, being too early in the morning for a human to be up. Wilbur had told you countless of times that you didn’t need to come, how you’d have much more fun staying home then being out with the boys, which you called bullshit on him. You wanted to go. You wanted to support the boys and to support Wil, to be there with him and have fun.

Wilbur had finally given in and let you come with, dealing with your whines of how it’s too early and how you hated whoever made the reservation so early. Wilbur laughed at your complaints, knowing they didn’t mean anything, helping you get changed into a comfortable outfit for the day.

You let out a small yawn as you snuggled into the man’s jacket even further, the soft material lulling you further and further into a dream like state. Wilbur had brought his hand to your hair, rubbing your head as he softly hummed in your ear.

As the car came to a stop, Wilbur had tapped your head gently, alerting you that you made it to the final destination, needing to get out.

“5 more minutes…” you whispered out to him as you wrapped around him once more.

Wilbur cooed at you as he held you. “Later darling, promise. But for now we have to get this started if we want to be done at a reasonable time yeah?” Wilbur said as you nodded and begrudgingly got up, Wilbur laughing at your hair as it stood up in some places. “Come here..”

Wilbur ran his hands through your hair, fixing the strands as he did, cupping your tired face as he pecked your soft lips. A smile grew on your face as he giggled at you, caressing your cheekbone as David poked his head into the van and groaned.

“Stop being in love for 5 seconds and let’s get going, you’ll have all day to be close.” David sighed as he left the two of you alone, Wilbur chuckling at his attitude as you sighed.

“I’m going-“

“5 more minutes.” Wilbur mumbled as he brought you back in, kissing you once more, smiles growing on both of your faces as you leaned in further.

You eventually got out of the car, Wilbur trailing behind you as you entered the dressing room, the warmth fogging up his glasses making you laugh as he held onto you.

Mark was already getting his makeup done as Joe and Ash got ready. You and Wil both found an empty table to set your things at, Wilbur leaving momentarily to grab his outfit that he had to change into.

As the boys all got dressed and got make up done, Wilbur finally came back, blue button up shirt and corduroy pants in tacked. To say he looked good was an understatement as you checked him out for longer than you should have.

“Like what you see?” The man teased as he smirked down at you, grabbing the belt that was on the table. You scoffed as watched him loop the belt around his waist, laughing at Mark when he tried to convince the group of his cooking skills.

“Who wouldn’t.” You murmured as you looked back down at your phone, playing the game you were previously playing before getting- distracted.

“What was that love?” Wilbur crouched down to be eye level with you, smirk back on his face as he saw your face turn red, laughing as you hid your face in your hands. “Don’t hide now darling, repeat what you said, I’m dying to know.”

“You heard me loud and clear…” you pecked his lips once more, leaning back in your chair as he smiled up at you. He leaned back in, placing one last peck on your cheek as he walked over to get his make up done, red beanie in hand that he was borrowing (stealing) from you.

Eventually all the boys were done, and all you were waiting for was the go ahead to make your way to the submarine. Wilbur had made it his mission to have plenty of meaningless conversations filled with random sounds, while Joe and the rest of the guys made fun the clothes they had on.

Eventually you found yourself by the glass window looking out on the body of water just outside the building, watching the swans and different birds silently.

“Swan.” Looking over you saw Wilbur standing next to you, Elodie quickly coming over. He looked down at you as you laughed in confusion.

“What?!”

“Swan.” You let out a laugh as he repeated the word, Elodie getting up close to his face as he cracked a bit.

“You are something else.” You told the man as Elodie filmed the birds outside as Wilbur looked at you with a smile, wrapping his arms around you as he did.

“You love me for it.” Wilbur admitted for you as you shook your head at him, resting it on his chest.

“Damn right I do.”

As you all got confirmation to go out to the dock, Wilbur had put on his rather unique coat, leaving you with his old winter coat that fit like a dress almost. You loved it, it still smelt like him and it felt like a big hug from the man, even if he was currently on top of you at every waking step.

As you all stood waiting for the boat to come pick you up, Joe had brought the mannequin arm out, trying to tease the swan closest to him. It ultimately failed as it ended up hissing at the fake hand, avoiding it at all cost.

“Let me try…”

“Wil that’s a terrible idea!” You denied his wished immediately, not wanting to see this bird angry.

“It’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt it!” He exclaimed to you as you scoffed at him and watched the man kneel on the ground, reaching the arm out to the bird once more. “Beautiful creatures- Ok-“ Wil hurriedly got up, panic lacing his tone as the swan flapped its wings at him. He looked at you with a small grin, biting his lip as you looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You were right-“

“As I should be.” You nodded as you wrapped your arms around his middle section, finally seeing the boat approaching the dock.

The boat ride was short as you all made your way on top of the submarine. Looking around, you heard Wilbur stomp on the metal, turning around to see him talking to the camera.

“This stuff- galvanized fiberglass. Don’t include that , it’s probably not.” You all burst into laughter after the quick change in the man, believing him for a second, as Mark complained about the smell.

Finally being allowed in, you all helped get materials down in the submarine, making trips from one end to the other.

You huddled next to Wil, his body being a walking heater as Elodie came up behind you too, camera in hand as you waved at the lense. Wilbur quickly turned to look at the camera, seeing you wave at someone- “what?”

“Be nice!” You lightly slap the man with the baggy coat arm, as he smiled down at you. Wilbur looked up to see Joe sitting in a little area above their heads, walking up to join him, saying ‘hello’ in a funny voice.

You laughed a him as he was bent in half, body not being able to fully fit up there with his height, waving up at him as he waved down at you and Elodie.

Sometime soon, you all moved into a different room, ready to begin filming the music video, Wil somehow finding a way deeper into the boat than needed.

“Woah! It’s all cabins and dormitories.” He said in amusement, as he motioned for you and Elodie to come up with him. It was fairly easy, your height being perfect for the small entrance as Wilbur held his hand out for you to take, lifting you up into him as he bowed. “My pretty partner.”

“Why thank you, my prettier boyfriend.”

“What did I say about that-“

“Can I get some help please?” Elodie asked as you quickly took the camera from her hands, helping her up with your free hand as she graciously thanked you. “Now you guys can go back to being disgustingly cute.”

Wil made his way back to the entrance, pointing out some diagrams he thought to be morse code, not being entirely sure in the moment.

“You’re supposed to be the smart one in the relationship Wilbur…” you joked as he laughed at you, shaking his head as he walked past you and down the hall.

“They used to smoke in this! That’s crazy.” Wilbur exclaimed as he lifted up a pipe, looking back at you as he placed it back in his rightful place.

You followed Wil further into the boat, as he somehow managed to find the main room where all the buttons and systems were to work the submarine.

As you looked at all the buttons and switches that were present in the room, Wilbur gripped the wheel placed in the middle of the wall and steered it, looking at Elodie with a scared look.

“I’m dwiving.” You rolled your eyes at the baby voice, patting the man on the back as you passed him.

“If you can drive a plane, you can drive a boat.” You told the man as he looked at you with an amused smile.

“You do know those are two different things correct?” You heard Elodie laugh behind the camera as she continued filming, loving the dynamic you two brought.

“No shit Sherlock! But they can’t be that different, right?” You looked at Elodie as she shrugged at you, not really knowing herself. “I don’t think they’re that different.”

“You try driving them.” Wilbur challenged as you quickly side eyed him and looked at him like he was insane.

“The fact you trust me that much is actually crazy. We would be dead in the next 2 minutes-“ Elodie and Wilbur both bursted out in laughter, your honest answer catching them off guard.

As you made your way further into the boat, finding more random equipment and rooms, Wilbur’s excitement brought a smile to your face, haven’t have seen him like this in a good minute. It was nice, to see him geek out and smile over these things again, finding solace now. You let him talk, both you and Elodie agreeing it was nice to hear him go on and on about random equipment and how it was used and blah blah blah.

“I think I just really love, cold, utilitarian design. It’s like, so sick to me.” Wilbur confessed as he snuck into a small room with a telephone and random machines connected to it. “Old map.”

“You nerd.” You mumbled as he shook his head at you, knowing you meant it in a loving way, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

Wilbur shifted a dial once more, the machine clicking as he did. “That one’s fun.” Wilbur chuckled as he sat back in the seat and looked at everything once more, looking back at the camera with a big. “Teehee.”

“Aww baby.” You cooed at the man as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close to you, kissing his head as you did.

“I am baby.” Wilbur stated as Elodie set the camera down and laughed at the scene in front of her. Wilbur’s head being suffocated by your arms as random kisses are being scattered all around his skin. The man was beaming with joy as this all unfolded, wanting this to never stop.

You stopped eventually earning a groan from the man as he got up, you leading the two back further down as you came into a larger room filled with engines and more steering wheels.

Wilbur’s gasps filled the room as he looked around in wonder. “Look at this shit! Look at the engines!”

Wilbur found another steering wheel, trying to move it round yet finding it had been glued shut, disappointment lacing his words.

Rounding the corner, he found you walking down further into the room, looking back at him with a smile as you pointed down the hall. “There’s more? It keeps going?!”

“Yeah! It’s like, huge in here!” Your voice echoed as Wilbur came up behind you, looking at all the systems once again, not noticing you glancing up at his smiling face.

Gripping his chin in between your fingers, you gently pulled him down to meet your lips in a slow kiss, not being able to control yourself when he got into moods like these. Where he’d just ramble about everything and anything while wearing a smile and being happy. You loved how it looked on him.

As all the boys collected into one area, filming in the same spot for as long as needed, wanting to get these shots right and make the music video look good. The lights changing to red when needed, grabbing waters for the band if wanted, etc. you often made comments at the camera while Elodie filmed, making the girl laugh as she filmed the action.

As the boys got an opportunity for a break, wilbur watching some of the footage so far as Ash played with the mannequins that were thrown around the room, messing its wigs up as he did. You came back into the room with a couple snacks you and stored in your backpack, realizing over the year how hungry these boys got.

You threw Ash one of the snacks, as he was the one who mentioned he was hungry. You stood next to Joe as he looked through the snack options you had brought with, thanking you as he took out another protein bar. You silently watched Wilbur take small bites off of Ash’s bar, laughing quietly as you broke your own in half and went up to the man.

“Here.” You held up the second half, biting into your own half. Wilbur’s eyes softened as he shook his head at you, going to decline your offer, yet the look you gave him told him there was no getting out of having that half.

“Thank you darling, I appreciate it.” Wilbur placed a kiss on your forehead as he started to eat his half, the thing gone in two bites.

“I have more-“

“Please.”

“And you call me crazy!”

“Marco!” Elodie said as she pointed the camera up at Wilbur, the audio catching your small whispers of ‘polo’ as Joe’s finger came up and poked through Wilbur’s nostril. The man bursted out laughing as he rubbed his noise, the random intrusion being unexpected as you all laughed along.

“I’m never doing that again!” Joe expressed in disgust as Wilbur nodded along with him.

“Please!” Wilbur practically begged as you grabbed mints from your bag, popping one in your mouth. As Wilbur stood looking at the camera once again, you placed a piece of mint in between his lips, Wilbur’s eyes twitching as he tried not to break. His deadpanned face close to the camera as he spit the mint towards the camera, accidentally hitting you in the process.

“Wil! That was for you!” You catch the hard candy before it falls on the floor, holding it up to the man once more as you opens his mouth. Placing it on his tongue, Wilbur gently but your finger as it was trapped inside his mouth. “Ahh! Wil-“ you giggled as he let go of your digit and smiled at you, bringing you into his chest. He pulled you guys over to a wall, sliding down as he placed you in between his legs, rubbing your arms to create some warmth.

“Thank you for coming.” Wil whispered to you as you watched Marks hair sprawl everywhere, the beanie not helping at all.

Looking up at the man, you smiled at him as you pecked his jaw and huddled closer to him. “Thank you for letting me come.” You retorted back as Wilbur chuckled, silently cursing himself for telling you not to come earlier that day.

You all made it into a smaller room, the lights dim as the crew set up. The cold weather had been taking a toll on all of you, sniffing throughout the whole process.

You rubbed your nose a bit, trying to warm up the numb skin, sniffing deeply to get air through your lungs. Wilbur sniffed shortly after, rather hard as he lifted his shoulders up, almost mocking you.

“Me when I-“ sniffing again, Joe laughed at his antiques as you frowned up at him, continuously rubbing your nose, glaring at him.

“You’re mean.” You mumbled as Wil cooed down at you, wrapping your body up in his, gently taking your hand off your nose and kissing it. Somehow it helped, you didn’t want to know whether it was because it was magic or your face was red, but it helped.

Hiding your face in his chest once more, he giggled at you, running his hands through your hair as he looked down at you. “Better?”

You nodded your head into his chest as he whispered a little ‘good.’

Joe was currently planning on using the pipe to smoke in one of the scenes, trying desperately to get permission from the owners.

“You should go into a coughing fit after, pipes are nasty.” You groaned as the thought of smoking through that thing made you shrink against the tall man.

“Yeah- C’mon give us your toddler cough..” Wilbur said as Joe let out a choked cough, his breath being seen in the cold boxed room as you laughed at the surprisingly accurate cough.

“Damn, Joe are you still a child? That was surprising close-“ you teased as everyone laugh, Joe flipping you off as you did.

The boys were then ready to do a long shot scene, where Wil would be tripping over various feet and legs, trying to reach the end without dying. The alarm goin off leaving a ringing in your ear as you watched the boys act for the camera. They all somehow had two things in common- love for music and a thing for theatrics.

“Did you see that top tier performance?” Joe asked towards the camera as you laughed at the man.

“Yeah, I also saw you trip like twice-“

“That was on purpose…” Joe sounded like he was trying to convince himself off that statement.

“Sure bud-“ you were cut off as Wilbur wrapped his arms around your waist, hands finding their way into your coat pockets, face hidden in your hair as he did. “Why hello..”

A small hum was heard from him as he gradually found warmth next to you, Joe leaving to film a small section for himself, leaving you and Wilbur having to move. You stood in between his legs as you all watched the small camera screen in delight while Joe had a small temper tantrum.

“He just confirmed he is in fact, still a toddler.” You giggled to the camera as Elodie panned to Ash as he nodded in agreement.

“I’ve got a hot water bottle!” Marks voice rang through the small space as Wilbur turned around to look at the man, finding him with a bulky object in hand.

“Let me feel-“ Wilbur said as Mark handed over the warmth he had once received, pouting at the camera, as Wil sighed out.

“Wil, give mark his water bottle back! I can warm your hands up..” you scolded the man as he joked about how all he needed was one more and he was good to go, the small pouch barely fitting his hand.

“But it’s not the same.” Wilbur whined out as you gapped at him, surprised he denied any physical contact with you in the moment.

“You can warm my hands up!” Mark exclaimed as you smiled at him, taking his hands in yours and gently rubbing the skin, hoping to transfer some of your heat.

Wilbur soon caught the two of you, suddenly missing the feeling of your hands on his as you rubbed at Mark’s rough hands. He knew you and mark were close, always having a bond that was rather unbreakable, but he wanted your hands on his. No he needed.

“On second thought, Mark take your water bottle back and give me my partner please?” Wilbur held out the pouch as the blonde graciously took it and placed his hands on the object immediately. Placing his hands in front of you, you shook your head with a laugh, taking his hands in yours. You pressed small kisses on his knuckles, your lips becoming cold from the sudden temperature change.

“Wil, you need gloves hun-“

“No, I have you. Can I?” Wilbur asked after his denial, placing his hands back into your pockets as you nodded up at him. “Why did we agree to do this on the coldest day?”

“Well, you didn’t think it’d be this cold out. And two, this was your idea, no one else’s.” You retorted back as he glared at you, shaking his head as he dropped his head against your shoulder.

“Don’t bring up my mistakes…” Wilbur whispered as you rubbed his arms, and sighed out a sad smile.

“You learn from them Wilbur, and I’m proud of you.”

As Wilbur was continuing to get warm, it was now Marks turn to have a little tantrum, everyone crowding around to watch the scene unfold.

“What do you think he’ll do?” You asked the group quietly as they all silently questioned themselves. “I say he just fucks with his beanie since he’s been complaining all day.”

“He’s gonna cry-“ Joe commented as Ash simply shrugged his shoulders. Looking over at Wilbur, you saw him already looking, smiling down at you with the biggest smile known to man.

“What?” You questioned, a confused smile on your face as you started rubbing all over. “I have something somewhere, don’t I?”

“No love, you’re just so perfect-“

“Either go somewhere else or be quiet because they’re about to start filming.” David informed the two of you as you rolled your eyes at his tone, looking back at Wil, kissing his cheek.

“And so are you.” You whispered gently back to the man as Marks face appeared up at the screen, the directors counting down as Mark ran his hands all over his head and face.

“Fucking- why won’t I fucking wake up!” The muffled words coming through the small space making everyone light up with laughter.

Wil hid his face in your back as his laugh rang through the space, holding into you tighter than before. You laughed with him, smiling fondly at the man behind you as he looked over at the rest of the group, repeating Mark’s words, tears rolling down his face as he came down from that high.

As Mark came back to join the group, we all cheered and praised him for his performance as he placed the beanie back on his head.

“I’ve been stretching my skin, boys. It fucks.”

“What?!” You and Elodie both questioned the man’s words, laughing at each other as Wil told us not to worry about it and that he’s been stretching his skin, and that’s all we needed to know.

You never understood fully understood the boys relationships with each other, just knowing that they’re all close and have a bond no one could possibly break. Having spent hours upon hours living with each other and interacting, it makes sense for them to fall into an easy rhythm. And you loved to see it.

“So, how’s he been?” David asked you as you both stood on the side, watching the boys act in the moment, smiling as Mark and Wil went along with the bit.

Looking over at the man, you nodded at him with a smile. “He’s been good. Some days are harder than other but still good.” You smiled at Wilbur as he stuck his tongue out at you, the camera resetting for another shot. David nodded at your words, thankful that Wilbur had you there for him, especially since everything hasn’t really been in his favor as of late.

As you both made eye contact with each other, you both understood what the other was trying to say, a silent conversation between expressions.

‘Thank you for not giving up on him.’

‘I love him too much to even think about giving up.’

Nudging his arm with yours, you both let out a silent laugh as the director yelled cut, done with that clip for now as all the boys dispersed back out, Wilbur coming up to you as you gave him a high five.

“See you haven’t lost your sense of theater.” You teased as Wilbur scoffed, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together.

“I would like to say that my acting is great and I think I should star in a movie-“

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” You joked as you smiled back up at him, his smile shining through as well as he looked up at David.

“What were you guys talking about?” Wilbur asked as you looked up at David, seeing him stutter as well.

“We were just talking about the tour later this year! Excited for you guys to perform again.” You covered as David nodded along, humming in agreement.

“Ok… well if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my partner once more since they decided they wanted to come.”

“Oh gods, please help me!” You joked as you extended a hand out to David, him laughing at you as Wilbur wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you to an empty space.

“Here we go, nice and hidden.” Wilbur set you down and he grabbed your hand once more, dragging you a little more ways down before finding a room.

“Wilbur why are we-“ you were cut off by lips meeting yours, hands gripping your waist as your back met the wall behind you. Your hands trailed up and cupped the man’s face, pulling him closer to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The kiss was slow, no rush behind the connecting lips, all tension flowing away, if there was any. Hands moving on their own, gripping your waist and hips, desperate to get closer to you as your own ran through his curls, little sighs escaping the man as your nails ran over those good spots.

As Wilbur slotted his body in between yours, both of you forgetting where you were and who you were with, a muffled yell of yours and Wilbur’s name echoed through the hallway, causing you both to hesitantly pull away from the other. Groans fell from the man’s mouth as he rested his forehead on yours.

“Fucking hell, I forgot how little time I have with this job.” The man sighed as you kissed him once more, love and patience lacing every second.

Pulling away, Wilbur chased your lips with a whine, a fond smile taking over your features as you rubbed your thumb over his now swollen lip. “You love it though. And I’m patient, so…”

“Tonight?”

“Sounds good to me-“ you leaned in once more, being cut off by a closer yell of your names once more, laughing as you patted Wilbur’s chest. “We should probably go before they find us like this, yeah?” Wilbur nodded at your insight, knowing you two wouldn’t hear the end of it if you didn’t.

Stepping out of the room, you both saw the rest of the band and Elodie at the end of the hall, smirking at you two.

“Now what was happening in there!” Mark teased as Wilbur grabbed your hand in his and pulled you out of the crowd that formed. “Aww c’mon we won’t tell!”

“If you guys were getting freaky in there you could’ve told us to fuck off-“ Ash mumbles out as the group followed the couple in front of them, teasing and poking fun at them as you laughed at Wilbur’s groans.

As the boys all sat in the little cabin, photos being taken and jokes being played. A producer brought out a big chocolate cake that made your eyes go wide at the delicious food.

“Who’s that for?” You asked through the window, practically drooling at the look of the chocolate.

“Not you, that’s for sure. Unless you want to lick it off Wilbur’s ha-“

“Ok! That can stop now. It’s about to be destroyed, love. Food fight style.” Wilbur looked at you as you nodded at the boys, retreating back into the space with Elodie as Wil scolded Mark for his crude words.

Marks laughter rang through the small space as the camera crew got prepared, telling the boys what would happen and how it would all happen.

The scene in front of you felt like a fever dream. From the boys singing happy birthday to Mark, to fake being thrown everywhere and the boys creating a mess that anyone would dread.

“Holy shit-“ you gapped at the scene in front of you, the cake everywhere as the boys left the area in a rush to get away from their mess .

“It’s slippery!” Wilbur exclaimed as you met him outside the door, his hands sprawled out in front of you.

Bring one of his hands up to your nose, he wiped some frosting on the tip as he laughed at you, your eyes crossing to try and look at the sugary substance. Wiping as much as you could off, you licked the little bit off your finger, humming in delight and looking up at Wilbur as you did.

A laugh left your throat as he pursed his lips and shook his head at you, disappointed yet finding that oddly attractive.

As all of you walked back to the front, the boys washing themselves of all the icing and taking off the cake battered clothes, Elodie had began recording once more, asking how they all felt about the production. The answers were short and sweet, full of tired voices and sleepy eyes.

“How did it feel doing the slap?” Elodie asked Wilbur as he looked at the camera and spoke complete gibberish.

“I’m not playing your games. I know what you’re doing.” Wilbur got close to the camera, looking at Elodie over the technical device. The women laughed as you shook your head at the man, a smile finding its way on your face.

Seeing the camera turn to you, you looked at Elodie with a smile and waved to the camera. “Now! Partner of William Gold, how was it watching your boyfriend demolish a cake like that? And how was it hanging out with him in a submarine all day?” Elodie asked as Wilbur loomed behind her, listening to every word you said.

“Well, I thought it was cool! Scary at first because it was huge but, it was fun to watch! And also, it was nice getting to see him all day, I barely seen him for this long, so it’s nice sharing small moments with this silly cat man.” You smiled at Wilbur as Elodie panned the camera to you, then Wilbur, both of your smiles ridden with lovesick-ness. Anyone could see from afar how in love you are with each other, infatuation taking over your minds as Elodie cooed at the couple.

“Why thank you! I’ll leave you two be.” Elodie smiled at you as you nodded at her, thanking her as she walked away.

“Hey, thank you again, for coming.” Wilbur whispered in your ear as he wrapped himself around you from behind, slowly turning you around as he did.

“No need. I enjoyed my time and I will never listen to you about that again. If I didn’t come, I would’ve been on my ass all day while you were here, miserable without me.” You teased as his hands made contact with your waist, pulling you closer to him as you ran your hands through his hair once more.

His head rested on your chest as he let himself relax and decompose from the hard day, body bruised from all the tripping and random stunts that they had pulled.

“I love you.” Wilbur’s words were heavy and tired, yet love was in all of them. You smiled at him as he looked up at you, eyes holding more of a story to them that you’ll get tomorrow when it’s not dark out and it’s not bedtime.

His big brown eyes looked into yours as a soft smile made its way to your face, kissing being placed all over his face in gratitude and love. You couldn’t think about life without him, finding it too hard to be away from him for a couple hours , let alone for a couple minutes.

“And I love you.” You whispered back to him as everyone looked at the pair, too tired to say anything or make comments, just happy that there’s good surrounding them at the moment.

taglist: @evil-peanut-butter-addict-sam @number1wilburfan @horny-p0et @heartofwritiing (I just tagged random people but I plan on adding a Taglist so! If you want to be added, comment on this post or my inbox is open!)

#lilly writez.#wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur gold x reader #william gold x reader #x reader #idk what to out here #longggggggggg

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