#he doesn't want to get into the fact that they were lovers and he lost her 😢

[pttucker]

It was a bustling street reminiscent of a battlefield. On the way to the auction house, countless merchants were selling all types of items. Yoo Joonghyuk spoke behind him. "Go quickly." Despite his harsh words, Yoo Joonghyuk was constantly concerned with Lee Seolhwa's movements. He blocked the front of her like he was worried she would be hurt by the passing incarnations and constellations. Some of the incarnations cursed him but Yoo Joonghyuk didn't care.

The wise know that when dealing with Yoo Joonghyuk, his actions always speak louder than his words. In fact, just ignore everything that comes out of his mouth entirely.

Now if only a certain oblivious squid could figure that out...

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Love Me Again

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

Exes to lovers - this was requested so I hope you like it!!

To be completely honest, Lando doesn't even know what happened that night one year ago. He knows very well that he drank too much, got drunk like never before and that the next day he lost you.

You came to his apartment and found a hair band in the bathroom that wasn't yours. Lando knew whose hair tie it was, but he tried to hide it from you and convince you that it was yours. Of course with that, he only made things worse. The fact that he decided to lie about it hurt you even more.

You threatened to leave him immediately if he didn't tell you what happened the night before and who spent the night in his apartment. It didn't take long for Lando to break down and tearfully tell you that one of his girl friends spent the night at his place after going out. The morning after, he barely remembered anything, but he could have sworn that he hadn't even kissed her, let alone slept with her.

His only fault was that he brought her with him to the apartment and let her sleep there, but even that was more than enough for you to break your heart into a thousand pieces.

You knew which female friend it was. You never even liked her and even though Lando always told you that you had no reason to be jealous, it annoyed you that she was throwing herself at him every chance she got when the two of you were together.

She was too close to him for your liking and then when you heard that she was the one who slept over at his place that night when he was dead drunk, it was over for you.

Lando cried, despaired, begged you to forgive him for months, trying to convince you that for him there was only you, but you couldn't get over your pride and forgive him. In the end, you even believed him that maybe there really wasn't anything between the two of them, but the trust was broken between the two of you and it couldn't be fixed anymore.

Since you two were together for two and a half years before you broke up, you were very close to his family. They adored you and considered you a member of the family. They couldn't believe that you broke up, even they begged you to forgive him, but even though you decided not to, you still remained on good terms with them and continued to hang out from time to time.

And just like that you found yourself on a huge luxury yacht celebrating Mila's third (idk how old is she??) birthday together with Lando and his family. It was a three-day celebration in the small circle of family and for the sake of that you decided to remain calm and behave normally around Lando.

It wasn't easy for you to be so close to him yet so far away. It was even worse for him, but he enjoyed having you around. Of course he tried in every way to reach you, approach you, talk to you, he did everything just to get your attention. From time to time he would succeed, you would find it funny how he tried everything, so you would give in and engage into a conversation with him.

On the last night, everyone went to bed pretty early because they were exhausted from celebrating, swimming and sunbathing for the past three days, but you weren't so exhausted, so you decided to stay in the lounge area of ​​the yacht and be with yourself for a while. The sky was beautiful, full of shining stars and the feeling was so peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment, but not for long because you were soon startled by none other than Lando's voice.

"You decided to sleep under the sky tonight?" He asked making himself comfortable on the sofa next to you.

"No, I was just enjoying looking at it."

"With your eyes closed?" He mocked.

"What else do you want other than to disturb my peace?" You roll your eyes sitting up from the lying position.

"I was very hot, so I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come here to the pool to cool off" He says looking at the pool in front of you.

"It's like" You take a look at your phone to check the time. "Almost 1 a.m. and you're going to get in the pool now?"

"Yeah, wanna join me?" He smirks.

"No, thank you." You laugh rolling your eyes at him again.

He gets up from the sofa and begins to remove his shorts, leaving only his boxers on. You were a little embarrassed and you didn't expect him to start undressing in front of you, so you cleared your throat and looked away.

"C'mon, it's nothing you haven't seen before, y/n" He mocks seeing how flushed your cheeks got.

"I'm going to my room, you have fun" You say getting up and fixing your oversized t-shirt that served as your night gown.

"No, come on, stay, keep me company." He pleaded before stepping into the pool. "Please?"

It didn't take long for him to persuade you to stay, because you secretly wanted to, you just didn't want to admit it so you sat down on the edge of the pool dipping your feet into the water as you watched him slowly threw himself in. Diving under the water he swam closer to you.

"You enjoying yourself?" You ask paddling your feet.

"It would be even better if you jumped in with me" He says placing his hands on the edge on either side of you.

"Not a chance" You resist pushing him a little with your feet. He chuckles biting his lip and taking your foot in his hand pulling you to himself a little.

"Lando, don't you dare" You warn him when you feel yourself slide down a little.

"You're not wearing any shorts?" He asks tilting his head to the side to peek under your t-shirt. You gasp quickly closing your legs and pulling your shirt down.

"You're so inappropriate, get away from me" You push his chest with your feet pushing him away from yourself only for to swim back to you again.

"Did you have any fun these past three days?" He asked curiously.

"I did, I have always enjoyed spending time with your family. It was good to see everyone again."

"Even me?"

You stop and sigh softly at his question not wanting to look him in the eye. it still hurts, stings. You'd be lying if you said you weren't glad to see him. You still love him after all, but you're still not sure if you want to forgive him.

"I'd rather not answer that"

He can't hide the hurt look in his eyes after your statement, but he also doesn't want to push you away from him by bringing certain topics up again.

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I had a talk with Mila today and she told me that I am all you talk about. She says it's getting too much even for her to listen to you" Lando being Lando, of course, turns everything into a joke just to lighten the mood. You can't help but burst out laughing at the nonsense that he was saying just to say something.

"There we go, that's the laugh I wanted to hear" You blush at his caring words hiding your face in your shoulder. He takes a risk and places his hands over your knees slowly pulling them apart to stand between them and you surprise both of you when you let him.

"Lando.." You sigh hesitantly when he slowly puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him.

"Please, let me" Before you could even ask him let you what?, he pulled you down into the pool with him. You gasped and your skin crawled as the slightly cold water soaked your t-shirt making it clung to your body.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" You were breathing rapidly trying to grab the edge to get out, but Lando pulled you by your waist closer to his body.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay"

"You're completely crazy" Your mouth complains, but your body responds differently to his touch especially when he moves one of his hands from your hip to your leg making them wrap around his torso.

"That's better" He says quietly glancing at your lips. You have to admit you feel a little uncomfortable, especially with his lips less than two centimeters away from yours. You haven't been this physically close to each other in over a year and you've almost forgotten what it feels like to feel his skin on yours. "It's just me" He whispers and it somehow calms you down when you remember that it's Lando, your Lando.

"Lando, you can't do this.." You say, but wrap your arms around his neck hiding your gaze in the crook of his neck. Your gesture encourages him so he hugs you tighter and gently kisses you on the cheek.

"Baby, I miss you so much" Your heart trembles at his choice of words. "I'm losing my mind without you" His voice breaks when you look at him and he moves your hair out of your face. Your fingers make gentle circular motions over the back of his head as you press your foreheads together.

"I swear only hope that one day you'll love me again keeps me sane" He continues.

"I've never even stopped" You quietly confess.

Even if he tried, he couldn't describe the feeling of hearing that from your mouth. He felt as if he had come alive again after such a long time.

He couldn't hold back anymore, everything in him was dying to feel you, to kiss you so he crashed his lips against yours and kissed you the way you kiss a person you love more than your life, but haven't been able to touch in more than a year.

You didn't even think about resisting anymore, you gave in and kissed him back with the same force. He walked with your legs still wrapped around him to the edge of the pool pressing against you with your back against it. His hands quickly slipped under your shirt exploring your body again after so long enjoying the sound of your moans.

"Please..please tell me that no one..has touched you..no one but me" His voice was quivering as he tried to get the question out to which he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer to.

Lando was your first. First in everything basically. And he was so proud of it. He loved your innocence and the fact that no one had ever made you feel the way he did. You were all his and that's why he had a particularly strong protective feeling towards you. And he probably would lose his mind if he heard that someone else had touched something that only belonged to him.

"No one but you" You panted making him go feral.

His hands went under your butt gripping it before his fingertips moved your panties aside. He grinded his crotch into yours nibbling at the skin of your neck.

"Lan.." You moaned wanting more, but hating to ask for it. Luckily he knows your body like the back of his hand and knows what you need very well so he slipped his middle finger inside of you. One was soon replaced by two making you throw your head back giving him full access to bite and suck on your neck.

"Fuck.." He hissed as the aching feeling in his cock kicked in desperately needing to be touched. "Baby, I need to feel you or else I'm going to explode" He grunts.

"Let's get out of the pool, yeah? We can't fuck in here"

He lifted you up from the water sitting you onto the edge before getting out of the pool himself. You took off your wet shirt leaving yourself only in soaked panties and a bra. He looked you in from head to toe before pulling you to him and laying you down on the sofa hovering over you.

As he pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung off you looked down at him with a slight concern in your gaze and he noticed it.

"What, baby? Is everything okay?" He asked leaning down to kiss you caressing your cheek.

"Yeah, it's just..it's been a while.." His gaze softened and he smiled pressing a kiss to your forehead to calm you down.

"We'll take it slow, okay?" He assured you. He pulled down your bra taking your tits out and attaching his lips around your nipples and with every passing second of him doing so you were getting wetter and wetter. He then took his cock in his hand rubbing his tip over your pussy up and down a few times hissing at the sensation.

He stopped at the center and felt you getting nervous as your breathing quickened. "It's alright, baby, I know you want this, I can feel how wet you are. I'll go slow, I promise."

He slowly pushed the tip in planting kisses along your jawline to distract you from the pain. He pushed a little further and you squeezed your eyes whimpering and holding your hands against his chest.

"It hurts Lan, it's too big.." You cried out trying to close your legs so he put his hand on your cheek gently caressing it. It took everything in him not to cum right away at you complimenting his length.

"Shh, I know, baby, but you have to let me in okay? We'll make it fit, yeah? Like we always used to" He cooed you pushing your legs further apart. "Just a little bit more and it's fully in. You can take it, love, I know you can."

Little by little and he pushed all of himself in staying still until you felt comfortable enough for him to move. "That's it, just like that, baby, always such a good girl for me" He was so impatient to fuck you, to cum all over or inside you it didn't matter to him, but he decided to take his time with you because he wanted you to feel good above everything else.

Once the pain was replaced by the feeling of pleasure, he started thrusting in deep and fast stretching you out in the way only he knew how. When you felt confident enough you wrapped your legs around his torso to push him even deeper.

"Does it feel good?" He asked and you nodded. "This reminds me so much of that time I fucked you on the couch in my parent's house."

"Ohh, Lando” You moaned.

"Where anybody could've walked in on us and see me pounding you from behind. Fuck, you have no idea how much this turns me on.." He groaned.

"I missed all of you, missed fucking you, feeling you squeeze my cock, playing with your pussy, oh" His words were coming out as broken sobs struggling to last as long as possible. "I feel you clenching are you almost there, love?"

"So close"

"Yeah? You're drenching my cock baby. You're so tight, fuck, I'm gonna cum in seconds."

"Ohh..yes yes, ahh"

"Oh shit baby.." Once he saw you slide you hand down to your clit and start playing with it, he lost it. His body shuddered, his cock twitched inside you and he came undone. He kept moving slowly until both of you rode out your orgasms.

When both of you came to your senses he started hugging you and kissing you as if you were going to run away every second. You leaned your head to the side and watched him smiling.

"So..does this mean you're mine again?" He asks tracing his fingertips over your collarbones.

"It does not, but" You emphasize. "If you try a bit harder maybe you can change my mind"

"Understood. Let's get you cleaned up for round two then"

"Lando, that's not what I meant…”

[cowboybeepboop]

Desire

“Anything you want, baby,” he murmurs, his voice strained with desire. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Friends to lovers, romantic smut

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: Your feelings for Jake resurface after you tried to push them away, leading to an extremely intimate night with your best friend.

a/n: I really hope there's still an audience for Top Gun Maverick smut because I really loved writing for Hangman and Rooster. Also, I’m currently working on the requests in my inbox but as always feel free to send any my way! I hope you enjoy <3

You're best friends with Jake, in fact you're the only one who he doesn't seem to have an attitude with. Working at The Hard Deck allows you to see him even more frequently, which you truly enjoy.

You know not to get too attached to him, you know how he is with women, you know that given the chance he would simply fuck you and leave your life forever. So of course you’ve entirely given up on the chance of ever being anything more than just his friend, his best friend.

The doors swing open with Mav and his team bounding in, he greets Penny, glancing over at you as you lean over a table obviously lost in thought.

“What are all of you doing here? I’m not even open yet,” she starts to scold but Maverick brushes her comment off.

“I thought you could make an exception for us,” he shoots her a sly grin and she rolls her eyes. Hangman gives you a gentle pat on the back as he passes you, saying a soft hello.

Phoenix chuckles as she stands in front of you, “Hey Y/N,” you groan in response.

“Hey, bagman.” Phoenix addresses the blond who's standing at the pool table, “What's up with Y/N?” Hangman turns toward Phoenix and raises an eyebrow in response to her question. He didn't seem particularly interested in the conversation, but his attention was piqued nonetheless.

"Hm? Oh, Y/N? What about her?" he said, leaning against the pool table with a nonchalant tone.

“I mean, just look at her. She looks like she's got something on her mind.” she says, nodding in your direction. Their gazes fall on you, watching as you wipe the same place over and over. He approaches you with a frown on his face, clearly noticing your distracted state.

He stands in front of you, his arms folded across his chest, and observes you silently. "You look like you're in another world, sweetheart," he finally says in a low voice, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

You glance up at him, letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah, something like that.” you mutter.

“Well, don't just say that and not give me the details.” he raises an eyebrow, watching the way you look away. Something was definitely on your mind, he could tell by the look on your face alone. He knew you all too well, and your usual mood was certainly not this solemn.

He leaned down a bit, making sure he was in your field of vision again, his arms still crossing his chest. “Come on, you can tell me. What's going on?” he prodded, a hint of concern in his voice.

“It’s nothing,” your expression softens as you toss the rag into the red bucket under the counter.

“Oh, really now?” he says with a doubtful tone. He knew you were lying straight to his face, you were usually a pretty terrible liar. He leans against the counter a little bit, keeping his eyes on you. “I know there’s something going on in that pretty little head of yours. So spill it.” He spoke in a firm tone, trying to get you to open up to him.

“It's just,” you purse your lips as you choose your words carefully, making sure he doesnt find out you're talking about him. “Just some guy, has me distracted.”

“A guy?” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. There was something off about the way you spoke, like you were intentionally being vague. But his curiosity quickly shifted into jealousy as you mentioned you were distracted by another guy.

His arms tensed across his chest as he leaned a little closer towards you. “Who is this guy? Is he bothering you?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He didn’t like the idea of someone else capturing your attention, let alone making you distracted.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it.” you tease him, your mood becoming a bit more lighthearted.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, a small hint of a smile appearing on his face. But he was still determined to figure out who this other guy was, who was taking your attention away from him.

He pushed off the counter, moving to stand in front of you so that you were now face to face. “Come on, spill it. Who is this guy?” he said, a hint of insistence in his voice.

“I don’t want to make you jealous.” There was a hint of a smirk on his face as you mentioned making him jealous. He knew you were teasing him, but his competitive nature couldn’t resist the challenge.

“Oh, you think I’d get jealous?” he said, a hint of mock arrogance in his tone. “I don’t get jealous, sweetheart.” you think for a second, realizing that maybe getting advice from the man who's bothering you so much, might actually be your best option.

“Fine,” you pull yourself up on the counter, sitting on the edge in front of him. “He’s an ass sometimes, all he cares about is getting laid so I know I need to stay away. But.. I just can’t stop thinking about him.” you sigh.

Hangman looks a bit surprised by your admission, he wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt about the situation. He wants to tell you to forget about the guy and focus your attention on him instead, but he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you.

He leans against the counter next to you, his arms resting across his chest once again. “Sounds like a player, why bother with him?” he asks, trying to sound indifferent.

“I don't know, it’s just that he's always on my mind.” you lean back on your palms, “I guess that's why I’m so distracted today.” He can see the hint of frustration and confusion in your expression, it was clearly bothering you that this guy was constantly invading your thoughts.

He’s silent for a moment, his mind racing with different thoughts and feelings. But eventually he speaks, his voice low and firm. “You can do so much better than some player,” he says with a slight scoff, “You don’t need a guy like him in your life.”

Your eyes wander across his face as you sigh, “I know..” your voice trails off. He looks down at you, noticing the way your eyes are wandering across his face. He can see the hint of disappointment in your expression, as you admit that you know you can do better.

He steps a bit closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. “So why bother with him then? Why waste your time and energy thinking about a guy who doesn’t deserve you?"

“I should get back to work.” you smile softly at him, hiding the frustration at his admission. He didn’t want you to go, he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end just yet. The way you smiled softly at him, a hint of frustration in your eyes, made him want to keep talking to you and find out more.

But he knew you had a job to do, and he didn’t want to come off as needy or overbearing. He nods in response to your statement, forcing a small smile back.

“Y/N,” Penny smiles warmly at you, “How about you call it a day?” she presses her hand to your back.

“Are you sure?” you question her, she simply nods at you. You find your way over to the pool table watching the pilots play.

The pilots are in the middle of a game of pool, laughing and teasing each other as they take turns shooting. Hangman in particular is clearly enjoying himself, relishing in the competitive atmosphere. He knows he's good at pool, and he's not afraid to show it.

He’s the first to notice your approach, and his demeanor changes slightly. He glances at you, a hint of a cocky smile on his face. “Finished working already?” he teases, his eyes watching you intently.

“Yeah, but my ride won't be here for a couple more hours.” you bite down on your bottom lip, gazing at him.

He steps even closer to you, his gaze unwavering. “If you don't want to keep waiting, I can drive you home.” his voice lowered as he stares down at you.

“Actually that sounds like a great idea,” you smile up at him, thankful you won’t have to stay any later.

He can't help but feel satisfied that you agreed so easily to his offer, pleased that he'll have more time alone with you. He grins back at you, his arms still crossed in front of his chest.

"Alright then, let's get going." he says, jerking his head towards the exit. He places a hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the doors. You wave goodbye to Penny and Mav who are deep in a conversation.

“Do you maybe have time to watch a movie with me?” you fiddle with your fingers, “I mean, it's been a while since we've hung out just the two of us.”

He listens to your question, his mind racing with different thoughts, but he quickly shoves them down. He would do anything to spend more time with you. He pretends to act a bit indifferent, but his voice betrays him as he replies.

"Sure, we can watch a movie." he shrugs, trying not to seem too eager. "Got one in mind?" you reach for the handle of his passenger side door.

“Hm, we could watch anything. I just want to be with you,” you admit carelessly while getting into the car.

He can’t help but feel a flutter in his chest at your admission, his heart races a little bit faster as he watches you get into the car. He quickly gets into the driver’s seat, trying to act like your words don’t affect him.

“Anything, huh?” he teases, glancing over at you quickly as he starts the car. “Even a cheesy romance movie?” he smirks, knowing how much you love them.

You gasp in response, “Obviously, you *know* they're my favorite.” his mind goes back to the discussion you had earlier as you smile at him.

He lets out a soft chuckle at your response, “Of course I do, I can’t forget your obsession with them.” he teases, his eyes staying focused on the road as he drives. But his mind starts to wander again, thinking about your earlier confession.

As his mood shifts slightly, he glances over at you with a hint of a frown on his face. “So, uh, this guy you were talking about,” he says, breaking the silence in the car. “How… how serious are you about him?”

“Hm?” your eyebrows furrow softly. His grip on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly at your reaction, his eyes staring straight ahead as he continues to drive.

He can’t help the pang of jealousy that runs through him, he glances over at you, his face trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. “I just mean, you said you didn’t want to get in trouble with a guy.” he says, his tone guarded.

“I don’t know.” you sigh looking out the window.

His heart does a backflip at your words, he tries to maintain a neutral expression, but he can’t help the small smirk that appears on his face. “So, you’re single, huh?” he teases, a hint of hope in his voice.

“Mhm, why do you ask?” you question him. He continues to drive, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he answers your question.

“Just wondering,” he replies casually, trying to feign indifference. But he can’t help the nervous energy that’s building inside of him. He glances over at you, his gaze raking over your face thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve been single for a while too,” he adds, an underlying hint in his voice.

“You’re always single,” you retort, “you prefer hook-ups over relationships, right?” you tease him.

He lets out an annoyed huff, not expecting you to tease him like that. His face flushes slightly as he remembers all the past hookups he’s bragged about to you, in an attempt to make you jealous. “Hey,” he says with false annoyance in his voice, “I can be in a relationship if I wanted to.”

“And would you want to?” you question as he pulls into the parking lot of your building.

He parks the car, his heart racing slightly at your question. He turns to look at you, hesitating for a moment. The thought of being in a relationship, with you, was something he’d fantasized about for a while. But he’s also a coward, terrified of being vulnerable and getting hurt.

He takes a deep breath, trying to maintain a casual composure. “Maybe, if it was the right person.” he finally responds, his eyes searching your face for a reaction. You nod in response, slightly disappointed with his answer.

“Who’s your right person?” your voice is quiet. He’s taken aback by your question, the subtle disappointment in your voice stabbing at his heart. He glances down, his mind racing with different thoughts and emotions.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes shifting back up to meet yours. His heart pounds even faster as he musters up the courage to answer you. “Well.. I think you already know.” your eyes widen at his implication, feeling his hand moving to cup your cheek.

He can see the surprise in your eyes as he cups your cheek gently, his thumb stroking your skin softly. His heart is racing as he looks down at you, his eyes searching your expression for a reaction.

He takes a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak. “Do you… do you feel the same way?” he asks, his voice soft and nervous.

“Jake.. I.” your heart races as your words get stuck in your throat. His chest clenches as you struggle to speak, his stomach in knots as he waits for your response. His hand is still gently caressing your cheek, his eyes never leaving your face.

He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure. “Please, just tell me. I need to know.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. Finding yourself speechless, you respond by pressing your lips to his.

He’s taken by surprise by your action, his eyes widening for a split second before he responds to your kiss. A wave of relief and happiness washes over him as he feels your lips against his, his heart racing with excitement and disbelief as he realizes the asshole you were talking about earlier just so happens to be him.

He moans softly against your mouth, his hand moving to the back of your head, his fingers burying into your hair as he kisses you back, passionately and hungrily. You lean closer to him, your hands cupping his cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue twirling with yours. He can’t believe this is actually happening, that you feel the same way he does.

He pulls you closer, his hands gripping your hips and guiding you onto his lap. He moans against your lips, his hands roaming down your sides, his touch both gentle and desperate at the same time.

“Jake,” you whisper against his lips, feeling his bulge pressed against your heat. He shudders hearing his name leaving your lips, his eyes darkening with desire for you. He can’t help but moan softly as he feels your body pressed against his, his hips instinctively bucking up slightly in response.

He pulls you even closer, his hands gripping your thighs, his lips trailing down your neck. “Sweetheart,” he breathes, “I want you so damn bad.” you moan quietly, leaning into his touch.

“We need to go inside,” your voice and gaze are filled with desire. His heart races at your moan, his body aching with need for you. He nods in agreement, his eyes filled with the same desire.

“You’re right, we should go.” he mutters, his hands roaming over your hips, unable to keep himself from touching you.

He lifts you off his lap, opening the car door and practically dragging you out with him. He shuts the door behind you before pulling you towards the building’s entrance, his eyes filled with impatience and lust.

He presses you against the wall of the elevator, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of exposed skin. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he mutters against your skin, his voice thick with desire. He kisses and nips at your neck, unable to get enough of you, your soft moans fill the cramped space.

He can’t help but smirk to himself as he hears your moans, his heart racing as he realizes he’s the one making you feel this way. He feels a surge of pride and satisfaction knowing he’s the one who has your heart racing and your body yearning.

“Jake, fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” The ding of the elevator pulls you both out of your trance as the doors open, revealing the empty hallway. He grabs your hand, practically dragging you towards your apartment.

You fumble with the doorknob as you unlock it, feeling his desperate hands around your waist.

He can't keep his hands off you, his fingers tracing the exposed skin of your waist as you fiddle with the keys. Impatience floods him, his desire growing with every second.

He presses himself against you from behind, his lips finding your neck once again. "Hurry up," he mutters against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "I need you, right now."

You pull the door open, smirking at his impatience. He traps you between his arms, your back pressed against the closed door, his body pressed firmly against yours. He gazes down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and possessiveness.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse and low. He leans down and captures your lips in a fierce and passionate kiss, his body desperate to get closer to you.

You press against him, your palms against his lower abs, as you lead him to your bedroom blindly. He follows your lead through the apartment, his lips never leaving yours. His body is on fire, the feeling of your hands on his abs driving him wild.

He pushes you against the doorframe of your bedroom, his body pinning you to it as he continues to kiss you deeply and hungrily. He can't get enough of your mouth, his tongue tasting every inch of it. He slips his knee between your thighs, pressing into your sensitive pussy. You moan into his mouth, your eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.

His knee presses against your sensitive core, his tongue exploring your mouth greedily. He can hear your moans, your breath hitching as he presses into you. He feels a surge of satisfaction as he knows he’s the one who makes you feel this way.

He nips at your bottom lip, his hands roaming down your sides, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “You like that, sweetheart?” he mutters, his voice low and hoarse. “You want more?”

“Please,” you grasp onto his sides, moaning desperately, “I need more please.”

He can hear the desperation in your voice, your fingers gripping his sides. His heart aches at your plea, his body responding instantly to your need.

He moans against your mouth in response, his hands roaming down to your thighs. In one swift motion, he lifts you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you into your bedroom.

He gently but firmly presses you against the plush comforter of your bed, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across your flushed cheeks and the passionate hunger in his gaze. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, and it sends shivers down your spine.

With a low growl, he starts to peel away the layers of fabric that separate his skin from yours. His rough hands glide over your smooth flesh, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each piece of clothing that falls away reveals more of your beauty to him, and he can't help but moan in appreciation. His eyes are locked onto yours, watching the way your pupils dilate with every touch, every kiss.

He nips at your earlobe before tracing the line of your jaw with his teeth, making you squirm under him. His hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body, learning every dip and peak that makes you gasp. His kisses become more fervent, his teeth grazing your neck as he sucks soft hickeys into your skin. You can feel the pressure build, the promise of bruises that will be a secret between the two of you.

Your breath comes in pants as he kisses down your chest, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipples. You arch your back, pushing your breasts closer to his eager mouth, your hands tangling into his hair. He groans, the vibration of his pleasure echoing through your body, making your core clench with need. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and you can't help but bite down on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

His mouth continues to travel downward, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your stomach. His eyes never leave yours, the hunger in them growing with every inch closer he gets to your wet pussy. You can feel your heart pounding against your ribs, the anticipation of his touch making your skin tingle with excitement.

With surprising gentleness, he spreads your legs apart, his gaze lingering on the wetness that's already gathered there. He groans, his own arousal evident in the tightness of his pants. He leans in, his breath hot against your sensitive skin, and you can't help but moan out his name as he kisses the inside of your thigh.

The first suck is gentle, but firm, and you feel your pussy clench in response. He starts to suck dark hickeys along the sensitive skin, each one a little harder and closer to your center. Your hands tighten in his hair as he works his way closer to your core, the pleasure building with every mark he leaves.

“More, Jake, please!” you beg him, your voice desperate and needy. He chuckles against your skin, his tongue flicking against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your back arches as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking hard. You moan loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls of your small apartment.

He inserts one finger inside you, feeling the slickness of your arousal. You gasp as he starts to pump in and out, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, teasing and taunting it. His eyes watch yours as he reads every reaction, making sure to hit all the right spots.

You're close, so close, but he knows you can take more. He adds another finger, stretching you just right, the friction making your toes curl. Your eyes roll back into your head as he starts to pump faster, his mouth never leaving your clit. He feels you tighten around his fingers, the warmth of your orgasm approaching.

He keeps his rhythm steady, not letting up even when your moans turn into whimpers of pleasure. You're so close, your body begging for release. His eyes never leave you, the intensity of the moment causing your chest to heave with every ragged breath. And then it hits you, the orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

You scream his name, your body convulsing with pleasure. He keeps his mouth on you, drinking in your release, savoring the taste of your arousal. As the waves subside, he kisses up your body, his hands still holding you in place.

"You taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with satisfaction. He can feel your legs shaking as his own need for you grows with every second. He strips off his own clothes, his eyes never leaving yours, and then he's on top of you, his body pressing you into the mattress.

He positions himself at your entrance, his cock aching to be inside you. He looks into your eyes, searching for permission, and you nod eagerly. He takes a deep breath, then gently pushes in, feeling your warmth envelop him. You gasp as he stretches you, his eyes never leaving yours, watching for any signs of pain or discomfort.

As he’s fully sheathed in your wetness, he holds still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being connected to you so intimately. He starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, torturous rhythm. Each time he thrusts into you, your eyes widen and a moan escapes your lips. He loves the way you react to him, the way your body moves with his.

He keeps his movements gentle, not wanting to overwhelm you, despite his own desperate need to claim you completely. His hands are everywhere, stroking your skin, feeling your curves, as he kisses along your jawline. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your legs tightening around his waist.

Your thighs squeeze around him, your heels digging into his back as he continues to thrust into you, deeper and deeper. His movements become more urgent as he feels your body tightening around him, the walls of your pussy clenching down on his cock. You moan his name, urging him to go faster, harder, and he responds eagerly, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm.

You can feel yourself on the edge of another orgasm, your breaths coming in short gasps. Hangman’s eyes are locked on yours, watching the pleasure build in your gaze, feeling the power he has over your body. He can’t believe how beautiful you look, your face contorted in ecstasy, your eyes glazed over with lust.

Your body begins to spasm around him, your pussy clenching down hard. He groans, his hips stuttering as he feels you start to cum. The sensation is overwhelming, your muscles tightening around his cock like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

With a sudden jolt, he pulls out of you, unable to hold back any longer, his cock spurting cum onto your stomach with a loud groan. His eyes never leave your body, watching as your orgasm takes over, your pussy pulsing and gripping at nothing.

He's left breathless, his chest heaving as he looks down at you, his expression one of awe and satisfaction. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, before his eyes drift down to the mess he's made of you.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut, your body trembling with the pleasure he’s given you. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the sight of your beautiful, sated body.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire and exhaustion. His eyes rake over your form, taking in every curve and plane, every mark he’s left behind.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he mutters, his fingers tracing the lines of his bites and hickeys on your skin.

“Now let's get you cleaned up, hm?” He lifts you up, wrapping his strong arms around you, and carries you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, letting the water run until it warms up, before placing you gently under the spray.

He steps in after you, his body pressing against yours as he begins to lather your body with soap, his hands moving over your skin gently but possessively. You exhale contentedly as you press into his chest, relaxing in his embrace.

He holds you close, his arms encircling you, as the water cascades over your bodies. His hands run over your body, washing away the sweat and evidence of your passionate encounter. Jake nuzzles his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, a sense of peace washing over him. He murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, his voice low and soothing.

“You’re not just fucking around with me are you?” your voice is uneasy as your stomach twists with anxiety. He freezes, taken aback by your vulnerable question. He can hear the anxiety in your voice, and it pierces his heart.

He pulls away slightly, turning your body to face his, cupping your face gently in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are intense but filled with understanding.

“No. No, sweetheart, I’m not just ‘fucking around with you’.” His voice is firm but tender. “What we did tonight, it meant something to me. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. You mean way too much to me.” your eyes soften as his gaze into yours with sincerity.

“Good, because I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” you bite down on your lip. He feels a rush of tenderness and protectiveness wash over him as he hears your sincere words. He pulls you closer, your wet bodies pressed against each other, his arms encircling you in a firm embrace.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he mutters against your hair, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and possessiveness. “You’re all I want too, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I need you.”

[nepenthendline]

the not-so-good parts about dating them

a/n: I am nothing if not a red flag lover

includes: midoriya, todokori, bakugo, shinsou, kirishima, kaminari, iida, hawks, aizawa

Midoriya -

Midoriya's priority list is '1. everyone' so, sometimes, it's difficult to feel special in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't see you as a top priority, he just often lets himself get caught up with other people and dealing with their problems so you don't get his undivided attention all that often. He doesn't mean to do it at all, but he has missed dates before because he was staying late at work to help his students or got stuck helping out a friend.

Bakugo -

🤨 Aside from his obvious anger issues, Bakugo often struggles to see you as a team and not just individuals. Whenever you argue, he often sees it as a 'me vs you' and not a 'us vs the problem', and he sometimes makes big decisions without talking to you first. He feels like he has to be better than you because he needs to be a provider and a protector, so he tackles issues on his own instead of talking to you and working things through as a team.

Todoroki -

Todokori has no reference to what a 'healthy' relationship looks like, and it terrifies him. All he knows is what, or who, he doesn't want to end up like, and it stops him from taking initiative in your relationship because he's scared of doing the wrong thing. He knows he's not like his father, but he still worries that he's going to end up like him anyway, as if it's fated. Because of this, things move incredibly slowly, and it can be hard to tell that he does love you since he doesn't often make moves or use words to show you. He knows he wants, and needs, to improve though, he just needs some guidance.

Kaminari -

Kaminari struggles with self-sabotage in your relationship - he convinces himself that he's not good enough for you or that he's making your life worse by being with you, and can push you away, cancel dates late minute or act like he doesn't need you. These actions never last long before he snaps out of it, and you're well aware by now of what's going on in his head when he starts acting like this, but he's always convinced he's going to fuck this up. And sometimes, he believes it so much that he does. The guilt eats away at him daily.

Kirishima -

(Absolutely nothing) Kirishima hates showing you when he's feeling down, weak, or 'unmanly'. He bottles up a lot of his negative emotions and thoughts away from you and they gnaw away at him. Its not that he feels like he can't talk to you, in fact sometimes he lets things slip because he feels so comfortable around you, but quickly tries to put a positive spin on his words so that you don't worry. It's more that he feels he shouldn't, and that you have enough things to deal with as it is. He wants to be a safe space for you, so dealing with his emotions is out of the question. He never blows up at you because things get too far though, you just wish he could rely on you more.

Iida -

For the first while in your relationship, it almost felt like you lost your friendship with Iida. The lines between being friends and being a partner were extremely defined to Iida for some time, and he felt that every interaction between the two of you had to be so formally-relationshipy - this meant things such as only spending time with you on pre-scheduled dates, affection felt like ticking boxes on what was 'meant' to come next in a relationship, or not letting you see his deeper, darker times. Things do get better after some time and conversations, but it kinda felt like the first year of your relationship didn't really count.

Shinsou -

Shinsou feels like being with you is the most selfish act someone has ever committed. Sometimes he even thinks that, somehow in a way he doesn't know, he's forcing you to be with him. He feels like you can do so much better than him, but he loves you too much to let you go (not that you would anyway). He thinks that he doesnt treat you as well as you deserve and so he goes overboard to 'make things up to you', when in reality he's the most caring, selfless person you've met. He often brings up the idea of you finding someone else, or that you can cheat on him and he'll stay if that makes you happy, and it breaks your heart every time.

Aizawa -

Aizawa feels like everyone he truly lets in, he has lost, and he is terrified that's going to happen to you. So, he tries to keep his feelings and thoughts for you as surface-level as possible. The problem is that he's terrible at doing that - he has such a big heart and he wants you in every way imaginable, which creates a lot of inner conflict for him. One minute he's telling you everything weighing on his mind and letting himself fall deeper into you, and the next he's keeping you at arms length. He's scared to admit that he relies on you or that he needs you, but he does it anyway and it tears him apart inside.

Hawks -

He lies to you more times that he would like to admit. Well, it's more that he's very good about skirting around a question or situation rather than telling you the truth. There's some things in his life, his past, or his thoughts that he feels are best not being part of your life, and so he will tell you little lies and make adjustments to the truth to fit a narrative that he prefers. He wants to protect you from any negativity or darkness that he can - he knows what going through that feels like and he does not want you to have to feel that too, but mostly, and most selfishly, he's terrified of you thinking he's a bad person because of some actions he's had to take. It can be almost impossible to tell when he's lying or telling the truth because he's extremely open and upfront with other topics.

[anantaru]

EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons

— ꒰ warnings ��� — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too

ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.

it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.

ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.

ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.

ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.

ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).

it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.

certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.

aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.

how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.

in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.

ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.

to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.

ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.

ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.

but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.

because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.

ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.

ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 

he just had to see you, now.

ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.

"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.

"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.

through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."

ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.

ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.

ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.

and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.

ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.

ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.

ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.

ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.

ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.

ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.

you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.

the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.

ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.

ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.

wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.

© 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 053 - Lover! Genius HSR Men x Dumbass! Fem! Reader: What do I do with you?... ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ Veritas Ratio, Dan Heng, Aventurine, Sunday ]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦�� 𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕤 ℝ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

For most students they dread the sudden random pop quizzes on mondays and fridays; but for a certain class they feared Veritas Ratio discovering their homeworks more than the monsters hiding underneath their beds. If there is a choice between dancing with the devil in scalding hot slippers vs having Veritas see your test results— They would much rather tango with the fiend than the latter.

But what about you? You who is the apple of the genius's eyes? How about your poor soul who has that grim reaper hovering over your shoulder almost 24/7?

"My dearest darling..." Veritas sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose while glancing at your mock test results. "We have gotten over 16 of these questions atleast for 3 hours..."

Ah yes, the familiar expression he does when he's about to nag you to no ends.

"But calculus is so hard!" You whine in protest, batting your puppy eyes on him hopes it works and that the violet haired man feels weak on the knees. "Please understand that I am not born with the same godly braincells you have, your divinity!"

"...." His nose scrunches at the flattering nickname, eyebrow twitching as he attempts to resist your charms.

It's working right?... Right?

It must be!

"If it weren't for the fact you had an impeccable english essay I would be scolding you to no end" Veritas lets out another heavy sigh. "Come, I'll go over these questions once again."

This calls for a celebration, atleast he spared you— To some degree.

Veritas read multiple articles as of late pertaining to individuals who have weak academic skills, he needed to understand idiots in order to teach idiots.

And since you were one... He has to try.

Did it work?

Surprisingly?

It did.

All he needed to do was to baby down the terms and teach you the solutions and terms four times over and over until you understand and can solve the problems by himself.

Veritas is thoroughly impressed by your effort, or maybe you're just trying hard because you're scared of getting an earful from him?

It doesn't matter.

"Hm." He hums, inspecting the set of questions he made for you to solve. "I'm impressed, dearest. You're actually smarter than I thought, we'll work on your speed for the following day— Oof!"

Veritas sputters as he felt your body suddenly jump towards him. He lost balance for quite a bit but steadied himself on a desk while his other hand instinctively grasped your back.

"Is this your attempt of seducing me not to scold you?" He says, a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he tries to prevent his lips from twitching a smile.

"No, I just want to cuddle you" You mumble, nuzzling him further.

"Ugh" Veritas complains (right, as if he's not enjoying the affection) before returning your embrace.

He reckons you must have been tired from using the best capacity of your brain to understand the complicated calculus formulas he shoved down your throat in the past three hours.

For being a good student, you need some rest due rest and affection— From him of course. Who else would?

"Good job today" Veritas praises, his voice dropping into an affectionate tone as he pressed his lips on your temple.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is done with life. No not really, he can't leave you, not with your grades anyway. What'll happen to you if he's not here?

He scrunches his nose a little as he sees the pathetic score on your physics quiz. If he leaves you to your own devices, you will end up repeating a grade.

Dan Heng can't have that, he plans to spend all of his schoolyears by your side.

Separation anxiety they call it.

He takes a deep and tired sigh before looking down on you who is sulking on his lap like a defeated puppy.

What is he to do with you?

With how adorable you are right now, how can he resist you?

"Lift your head up," Dan Heng gently says, petting your hair lovingly. "Let's study together, hm? It'll be... Fun"

He wasn't the type to treat studying as a game. But after tutoring his dumbass friends: Caelus, Stelle, and March— He knows just how to play along and make efforts to get someone like you to study.

If he can get those nutheads to straighten up; then you would be no different.

As mischievous as you are, you also listen to Dan heng the most.

After a few more cooing and kisses (And maybe a threat that he wont let you borrow his jacket anymore)— You finally agree to his request.

It's for your own good anyway.

Dan Heng is very patient with you, making sue to slow things down and using multiple analogies to get you to understand. Calculations are complicated in the first place, he doesn't expect you to get it right the moment he teaches you.

Having trouble recalling the basics? He'll explain it to you.

He even goes as far as teaching you some calculation techniques to help you and most importantly he is teaching you shortcuts to make everything easier for you.

Solving problems is just finding a pattern anyway, as long as you recognize it— Then the rest will come easy.

And as he expected, after a few hours of trial and error— You have finally managed to get a score of 4/5 in the practice sheet he provided.

"Not so bad, is it?" Dan Heng said in that monotone but affectionate voice of his, placing a plate of your favourite snacks down on the empty space beside you. "You're doing so well."

"I'm sorry for bothering you..." You apologize, slumping down.

"No, it's alright," The ravenette boy shook his head and kissed the top of your head out of habit, "I like studying, especially if it's with you."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better" You pout, earning a soft smile from him at how cute you are.

"I'm not" Dan Heng mumbles as his lips stayed on your head. "Let's do this more often together. I am able to focus more when you're around me"

He's really just saying that just to make you feel better. But you can't really read him even if you're both dating him.

And Dan Heng knows you're doubting him no matter how sincere he is.

It doesn't matter.

He'll just have to make a way for you to acknowledge. For now though? Dan Heng is more than satisfied to just spend his time with you like this.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Pfft...." Aventurine snorts as he sees your worksheet littered with angry red marks and the pathetic score of 12/60 for the chemistry assignment. "Kek...."

"I hate you, we're breaking up" You mumble, earning a loud laugh from the damn peacock himself.

"Baby!" Aventurine cackles, nearly falling over as he laughed while his ome hand remains in your wrist so you wont leave. "Come now, don't be so prissy. It's not really my fault you zone out during class!"

"You're supposed to comfort me!" You whine, making him laugh even more.

"This one becomes reduced and this one is oxidized, you do know the difference, right?" Aventurine points out on the paper. "Hm?"

"No..." You say shamefully, feeling more depressed at your own stupidity.

Aventurine sees your spirits dwindling down and he takes a seat on the chair before patting his lap, "Here, Ill teach you"

"No, I don't trust you" You point a finger at him.

"I got a perfect score for the worksheet" His heterochromatic eyes curve into lovely crescents, "This unit is very complicated and requires a lot of thinking and pattern recognition. It's quite easy. Trust me, yeah? I never mistreated my pretty little girlfriend before after all"

You wanted to sulk.

As mischievous and philantropic as your boyfriend is, there's no mistaking that Aventurine is part of the top students in contrast to his lax personality.

No one can really mock him with his excellent grades no matter how much they hate his guts.

In the end, you relent, perching yourself on his lap as Aventurine grabbed a spare piece of paper and a pencil. He started expaining everything from the very top and making sure you are keeping up.

You thought he would be joking really, but Aventurine is serious. He made sure to quiz you after explaining a concept just to make sure if you are able to keep up. If not, then he wouldn't make fun of you and instead gently remind you.

Chemistry is a complicated subject, even he has to double check his solutions every now and then just to make sure the calculations he did aren't wrong.

He's fine with teaching you really.

It's his duty as your boyfriend to spoil, pamper, and love you as well as making sure you aren't lacking in your studies. It's not for his pride and image, he could care less about what people think. He just doesn't want you to have a breakdown over your low scores.

If there is anything he hates more than anything, it's seeing your tears fall down when he can fix it.

And this just so happens to be something he can solve easily.

"There we go, there we go~" He praises, giving your lips a chaste kiss as a reward for doing the practice questions right. "See not so bad, is it? You just needed a bit of some guidance you silly girl"

"...Thank you" You sheepishly say, making Aventurine pause as you cuddle up to him

Even after all this time, he still becomes weak whenever you become affectionate with him.

"Ah, what ever shall I do with you!" Aventurine cuddles you even tighter, swaying you left and right over his frustration over your cuteness. "Should we go out? I'll get you a birkin and then let's eat at your favourite buffet restaurant. You've been such a good girl today, I should spoil you."

"A birkin?!" You pale, looking at him as if he has lost the screws in his head.

"Don't think I don't know how you are looking at those birkin unboxings, babe" He taps your nose lovingly with the tip of his finger. "Now let's go!"

"Aventurine!!!"

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Erm... What to do...." Sunday takes a deep sigh as he sees the state of your pathetic quiz paper.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

All of it was wrong.

Biology is really quite simple, but how come you're not able to keep up?

Sigh.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize in a weak voice.

You tried your best really, you reviewed as much as you could and banged your head on the wall multiple times without the halovian man looking to try and get the terminologies and cycles right.

"No, no" Sunday immediately says, lifting your face up with his palm. "It's alright my love, there's still time. You can make it up on the test."

"But..." You sulk, and he immediately shakes his head.

"Scores are just score, we can improve them" He smiles gently, kissing your forehead. "Come sit down with me, I'll teach you."

"Sorry for bothering you" You slump down as you sat on the chair he directed you to.

"No need" Sunday keeps that kind smile on his pretty face. "Our professor is very fast on discussing stuff, it's no wonder you are struggling to keep with the lessons. He also gets sidetracked with his life stories a lot... So it's alright"

He's just trying to make you feel better, and Sunday knows you feel that way.

"Here, let's start with rna" He opens the textbook on the pages he needs.

Genetics can be quite tricky if you don't have the fundamental knowledge, so Sunday started with the basics before ramping it up steadily to the complicated terms and processes.

He made sure to take a few minutes of break for the knowledge to sink in, he even fed you some snacks to keep you energized during the long tutoring.

He himself can't help but eat while studying after all, and it proves to be an effective method since you're able to retain more terms.

He didn't doubt you for a second, nor was he impatient.

Sunday took it as slow as it can be and lets you explain back what he just taught you on the top of your head. It's better to study in repetition with biology after all. Even Robin finds his teachings effective, so of course it will work on you too.

"We'll finish for today" Sunday closes the textbook and starts cleaning up the desk you two shared. "How do you feel?"

"A little better..." You admit, leaning on his shoulder. "You're always looking after me, I feel very childish"

"I apologize, I can't help but pamper you" He rubs his head against yours while his little ear wings flutter about at the closeness between you two. "Besides, I'm also reviewing when I'm teaching you. So it's not a loss for me. Studying can be quite lonely, it's better if we do it together."

"I'll do my best on the test, I promise..." You say, earning an even lovelier smile from your lover.

"I know you will," He kisses head, letting his lips linger. "Don't pressure yourself too much, just do what you can. And then after test, how about I take you out on a date? I found a really good museum to visit nearby"

"Really?" Seeing you perk up, Sunday feel even more happy— His little ear wings fluttering even more as he cant contain his excitement to spend time with you.

"Yes, winding down after studying is extremely important" He stands up and offers a hand to you, "Speaking of which, we should head down for dinner. A hearty meal is a very much deserved rewad for you on working hard today"

He always knows what to do or say. It's like Sunday has magic whenever he talks, he can easily make you forget all the sadness and guilt you had earlier for the extremely low score you had for your biology quiz.

Yes.

There is no mistaking it.

Sunday is truly the best boyfriend there is.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Another hsr post after my short break because I felt lazy and unmotivated to do anything and because I was doing hw (◞‸◟；). Figured I might as well make a study comfort fic with these smart bois hehehehe. Idk if I did Dr. Ratio well, I hope I did.... I'm going to read up more abt his charac info in the game. I've been busy building Sunda as of late so heheh... I still have to fix his planar set kek. But he is thankfully on 204% cdᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ. He and Robin make the perfect team!!! For anyone curious, my lineup is Aventurine, Dan Heng, Robin and Sunday ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[h4nj1sunggg]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 - ( h. jisung. )

pairing: dilf!Han Jisung x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

words: 26.8k. summary: jisung is a father, y/n is desperate for a job and Seyeon likes her too much.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist )  . Spotify playlist .

warnings: dirty talks, soft!dom jisung, unprotected sex (be mindful), breeding, oral (fem receiving.)

Seyeon it's a papa's girl. She took the Jisung's cheeks, and her mother's eyes, the kindness of her father but the attitude of her mom. She always tell when she doesn't want something.

"I don't like the zoo!" Jisung sigh, at the yet another attempt to take her daughter to the big gate of the zoo, the colours of the funny animals all over the signs, making every kids gasp in happiness. On the other hand, Seyeon hates the zoo.

"why sweet cheeks? you were so happy to come here with daddy," Jisung knee down in front of her little girl, both of them pouting softly, both of them don't want to hurt the other. "it reminds me of mommy, I wanna go with mommy!”

After the separation of the two parents the situation always been really hard, Seyeon never wanted to stay with Jisung for more than two days, she doesn’t like the small bit luxurious apartment that jisung as in Seoul, she loves Mom’s house right in front of the ocean Incheon. She doesn’t like the fact that her father as a cat, the mother as a dog. She doesn’t like going around with her daddy in his studio because she can’t play, she loves passing time with her mom in her painting room. They are just in two different worlds.

That’s why it never worked out. Jisung been always busy with his career as the most successful kpop artist in his group, when he met the mother in Japan, he thought right the way that she was the one. For years they kept the relationship private, for the amount of fanbase that Jisung was having, was making the girl uncomfortable. But they end up married. A beautiful marriage that everyone was loving, the parents accepted and the fans not totally supportive. As soon as Seyeon born, he knows something between him and her wife was breaking apart.

They started with a separation, living in two different places, and then the divorce was imminent. Seyeon at the age of five years old saw her father just twice a month, but after jisung retired from the band to start his career as a producer, he wanted to pass more time with her daughter.

That’s why they are at the zoo, because jisung remember that when she was three the zoo was her favourite place ever. “sweet cheeks, it’s.. just me and you today. a seyeonnie and daddy day!” He try to cheers up the little girl, making her pout just growing, but she start to walk. At the end, she’s still a papa’s girl. And she doesn't want him to report her bad attitude to her mother.

"what do you wanna see first, princess?" Seyeon mumble an answer, that jisung doesn't understand but her little hand guide his to the big spot for the lions. The man get lost in the moment, the beautiful creatures are playing around and he grabs his phone to take some pictures of it, just as a memory.

He let his daughter's hand for a second, "do you want to take a picture for mommy babygirl?"

Jisung turns to look at his side and he can't see his little girl, he's panicking at this point. He's shouting her name, trying to find her in every spot that the little girl could hide, he's so close to grab the phone and call the police when she hear her little laugh.

Her adorable laugh. He turns so quickly to get the dizziness from it, but he doesn't care, he totally lost his daughter in the zoo. When he lands his eyes on the girl she see her playing some hand-game with another woman, Seyeon it's laughing and giggling for the mistakes that they are making and you are holding her on your lap.

"Seyeon!" He calls her out as he start to get closer to them, with a speedy walk, he almost trip as you look up at him with a surprised look. "baby, I am so sorry." Copious tears dropping from his eyes, making his puffy cheeks turning red, he lift his daughter from your lap, hugging her tight. "daddy is so sorry sweet cheeks."

"don't worry daddy! I was with y/n! she's sooo nice!" The little girl squeak in a giggle, making jisung turn his head to you, an awkward smile on your face. "hi?"

You smile softly at Jisung's awkward greeting, your eyes meeting his as the moment hangs in the air. Seyeon clings to Jisung tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck while she keeps giggling, completely unfazed by the earlier scare.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Seyeon murmurs, her small voice soothing him. “y/nie is nice. I had fun with her.”

Jisung’s breath hitches as he holds her close. “I shouldn’t have let go of your hand. I was so scared, baby.” His voice cracks slightly, the weight of the moment settling heavily on his chest.

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate the situation. "She’s a really special little girl," you say softly, trying to keep the mood light. "And it’s not every day you get to see lions this close." Your words are genuine, but there’s an unspoken tension between you and Jisung.

Seyeon glances between you both, her small fingers twirling a lock of Jisung’s hair absentmindedly. “Daddy, I like y/n,” she says matter-of-factly, her bright eyes shining with innocence. “She paints really pretty pictures like mommy.”

Oh great, another artist, jisung thinks.

Jisung chuckles lightly, a soft smile pulling at his lips despite his earlier panic. “You’re quite the little artist yourself, princess.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head before turning to you again. “Thank you for keeping her safe... and for being kind to her.”

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease despite the weight of the situation. “It’s nothing, really. She’s a sweet kid.”

Seyeon leans back, resting her head on Jisung’s shoulder, her little hand still firmly entwined with his. The moment feels fleeting, like something precious they don’t want to let go of too soon.

“Well, I should let you two get back to your day,” you say, stepping back slightly. “She clearly enjoys her time with you..?”

"Jisung, I'm Han Jisung," he watches you carefully, his gaze softening. “Would you... like to join us for lunch? a little reward to kept safe my little girl.”

You hesitate for a second, the offer catching you off guard, but Seyeon’s excited nod makes the decision easier. “Okay. Just for lunch.”

Seyeon claps her hands together, excited once more. “Yay! I love lunch with Daddy and y/nie!”

The three of you settle at a cozy corner table in a quiet café inside the zoo. The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filters through the large windows, casting a peaceful ambiance over the scene. Seyeon sits between you and Jisung, her small hands clutching a juice box as she eagerly looks between you both.

Jisung takes a deep breath, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the table. “I never wanted to scare you, y/n,” he says softly. His voice is quieter now, more introspective. “You didn’t have to come with us, but… I’m glad you did.”

You smile softly, watching Seyeon as she drinks her juice, her little hands messy with excitement. “She’s a bright little girl. It was hard to say no.”

Jisung chuckles quietly, his eyes lingering on his daughter. “She gets that from her mother,” he says with a bittersweet smile. “And from me… the stubborn part.”

Seyeon giggles, her head tilting as she looks up at him. “Daddy, can we go to the park later?”

“We’ll see how you’re feeling,” Jisung replies with a wink. “You’ve had quite the adventure today already.”

Seyeon pout a little looking at you like you're in charge for this kind of things, "can you come too? please?" Jisung's eyes wide open, looking at you two before gasping a laugh, "baby I think y/n has her own things to do, don't you think?"

"What things daddy?" Her big doe eyes staring at his soul, he's always been bad at saying no to his daughter.

You watch them interact, their bond so natural, yet it’s clear there’s a depth to Jisung’s love for Seyeon that runs deeper than mere words. It’s the kind of love that only a parent can understand—protective, tender, and sometimes fragile.

“You don’t have to explain,” you say softly. “I understand what you’re trying to do. Being there for her. You’re doing your best, even if it’s hard.”

Jisung’s gaze flickers to yours, holding for a moment longer than necessary. “It’s not just about being her dad. It’s about being someone she can rely on, someone who won’t let go, even when things get messy. I’ve failed her before—too often, honestly. But I want to get it right now.”

Seyeon reaches out, her tiny hand resting on his arm. “You’re the best daddy, though.”

He laughs softly, brushing his fingers through her hair. “You’re the best daughter.”

You take a sip of your drink, the atmosphere soft and unburdened. Seyeon seems to sense the moment, her energy mellowing as she quietly munches on a pastry.

Jisung finally shifts his gaze back to you, his smile fading slightly as he leans in a little closer. “I wanted to apologize for everything—how things ended between me and her mother, the times I wasn’t there for Seyeon the way I should have been. It’s been a journey.”

You nod gently, your expression compassionate. “No need to apologize. Life happens, and we all do the best we can with what we have. You’ve clearly tried.”

There’s a long pause, the quiet hum of the café filling the space between your words. Seyeon’s light laughter bubbles up again as she tries to balance her juice box on her nose, her playful antics bringing a refreshing lift to the moment.

Seyeon suddenly pipes up, cutting through the quiet moment. “Can we get ice cream now?”

Jisung’s eyes sparkle as he glances at you. “Ice cream sounds good, doesn’t it?”

You laugh softly, nodding. “Ice cream is always a good idea.”

The ice cream stand is a lively hub of chatter and sweet aromas. Seyeon giggles as she holds her cone tightly, a swirl of pastel colors already melting down the sides and onto her small hands. Jisung grabs a handful of napkins, gently wiping her sticky fingers with a chuckle. You watch the scene with a warm smile, enjoying how natural and effortless their bond is despite the challenges Jisung hinted at earlier.

As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the streets, Jisung glances over at you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks softly, nodding toward a quieter corner near a park bench.

Seyeon is too engrossed in her ice cream to notice as you nod, following Jisung to the side. His expression is serious yet gentle, the kind of look that tells you he’s been mulling over something important.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” he starts, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “About struggling to find work and trying to figure things out.”

You nod, slightly apprehensive about where this is going. “It’s been tough, yeah. But I’ll figure something out eventually.”

He looks down briefly, then back up at you, his dark eyes steady. “What if you didn’t have to figure it out alone? What if you gave being Seyeon’s nanny a try? Just for a day to start. See how it feels.”

The suggestion catches you off guard. “Me? Her nanny?”

Jisung nods, his expression hopeful but measured. “She adores you already, also she basically asked you. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got a huge list of options, but even if I did… I trust you. And clearly, Seyeon does too.”

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. “Jisung, I don’t know… I’ve never worked as a nanny before.”

He smiles softly, leaning back against the bench. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to care, and you already do. Plus, I’d be close by if you needed anything. My studio’s right in the area – also I would never leave you alone the first time with her only, she can be pretty pissed off the first time.”

You glance back at Seyeon, who’s sitting on a nearby bench, happily licking her ice cream and humming a tune to herself. The sight of her carefree joy tugs at your heartstrings.

“She does seem pretty attached already,” you admit with a small laugh. “But are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to step into something that’s too personal—”

“It’s not like that,” Jisung interrupts gently. “This isn’t just about convenience. I see how you are with her. She lights up around you in a way that makes me think... maybe this could work.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, weighing the idea. It’s unconventional, sure, but the sincerity in Jisung’s voice is undeniable. And the truth is, you could use the job, even if it’s temporary.

“I guess I could try it for a day,” you finally say, your voice cautious but open. “See how it goes.”

A relieved smile spreads across Jisung’s face. “That’s all I’m asking. If it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. But…thank you, y/n. Really.”

Before you can reply, Seyeon bounces over, her ice cream cone now just a sticky napkin and a smile. “What are you guys talking about?” she asks, her big eyes darting between the two of you.

Jisung crouches down to her level, a playful grin on his face. “y/n might spend more time with us soon. Would you like that, princess?”

Seyeon gasps, her face lighting up like fireworks. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please, y/nie!”

You laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s try it out first and see if you don’t get tired of me.”

“Never!” Seyeon exclaims, throwing her arms around your legs in a tight hug.

Jisung straightens up, his smile softening. “Guess we’ll figure out the details tomorrow? Her mother is out for a couple days and I have her in my apartment.”

“Yeah,” you reply, ruffling Seyeon’s hair as she clings to you. “Tomorrow.”

The three of you start walking again, the sun dipping below the horizon as the city lights flicker on. It’s not the future you imagined for yourself, but maybe—just maybe—it’s a step toward something brighter.

The next morning arrives faster than expected, and you find yourself standing outside Jisung’s apartment, clutching your bag nervously. The sleek, modern building looms above you, its pristine facade reflecting the pale morning light. You take a deep breath, adjusting your jacket as you summon the courage to ring the doorbell.

Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing Jisung, who’s already dressed in casual yet stylish clothes—a hoodie layered under a lightweight jacket, paired with black joggers – you would never tell that he’s in his 30s. His signature round glasses sit on his nose, giving him a surprisingly approachable look despite his celebrity status.

“Morning,” he greets with a warm smile. “Right on time.”

“Yeah,” you reply, forcing a small laugh. “Didn’t want to be late for my… trial run.”

Jisung chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in. Seyeon’s been asking about you since she woke up.”

The apartment is as modern and stylish as you’d expect—minimalist furniture, neutral tones, and an impressive wall of windows that offer a panoramic view of Seoul. But despite the sleek design, there are signs of Seyeon’s presence everywhere, even if she doesn’t go there that often. A small table in the corner is covered in crayons and paper, her drawings pinned to the wall above it. A stuffed bunny sits on the couch, one of its ears slightly chewed on, and a trail of tiny sneakers leads toward her bedroom.

“She’s in her room getting dressed,” Jisung explains, closing the door behind you. “It’s her version of a fashion show, so… good luck getting her out anytime soon.”

You laugh, already feeling some of your nerves dissipate. “Sounds like a diva in the making.”

“She gets it from her mom,” Jisung says with a fond smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in his tone. Even if they are not together anymore he really loved her, things moved really slow in their relationship and after her he just had some casual hook ups around – nothing too deep. He’s scared of getting too into a relationship with someone. He clears his throat quickly, motioning toward the kitchen. “Want some coffee? I was just making a pot.”

“Sure, thanks,” you reply, following him into the open kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as Jisung pours two cups, sliding one across the counter to you.

As you sip your coffee, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind. “So… how do you want this to go today? Any specific rules or routines I should know about?”

Jisung leans against the counter, his hands wrapped around his mug. “Honestly, just be yourself. Seyeon’s pretty easygoing once she warms up to someone, and she already seems to adore you. She loves arts and crafts, playing dress-up, and reading, so you’ll probably spend a lot of time doing those things.”

You nod, making mental notes. “Got it. Anything I should avoid?”

He hesitates for a moment, his expression softening. “She might bring up her mom. It’s still a sensitive topic for her, so just… be patient if she does. I try not to push her too much, but sometimes she needs to talk about it.”

“Of course,” you say, your tone reassuring. “I’ll be careful.”

Before Jisung can respond, a loud “Tada!” echoes from the hallway, and Seyeon bursts into the room, twirling in a bright pink tutu over her striped pajamas. Her hair is an adorable mess, with a sparkly headband perched crookedly on top, a grey cat following behind her. The cat’s meowing toward them and it jump on top of the iland of the kitchen, you pass the fingers through the furr.

“What do you think, y/n?” she asks, striking a dramatic pose. “Am I a princess?”

“You’re the most fabulous princess I’ve ever seen,” you reply with a grin, the little girl’s laugh fill the room, at the excited sound the cat runs away making jisung lightly giggle – his pet friend still getting used by the presence of the loud daughter.

Seyeon beams, running over to grab your hand. “Come on! Let’s play dress-up!”

Jisung laughs as she drags you toward her room, her enthusiasm infectious. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he says, shaking his head with amusement. “I’ll be in the studio if you need me, just down the hallway.”

You’re barely able to wave goodbye before Seyeon pulls you into her room—a whirlwind of color and chaos. The walls are painted a soft lavender, and every surface is covered in toys, books, and more clothes than any five-year-old could possibly wear. She immediately begins pulling out tiaras, feather boas, and glittery shoes, chattering excitedly as she explains the “rules” of dress-up.

The morning passes in a blur of laughter and imagination. You and Seyeon transform into royalty, superheroes, and even pirates, complete with cardboard swords and eye patches. Her giggles are contagious, and for a while, you forget all about your nerves or the fact that this is technically a trial job.

When lunchtime rolls around, you head back to the kitchen, where Jisung is already preparing a simple meal of sandwiches and fruit. He glances up as you enter, his face lighting up at the sight of Seyeon riding on your back like a knight on a trusty steed.

“Looks like you two are having fun,” he says, setting the plates on the table.

“The best fun ever!” Seyeon declares, sliding off your back and plopping into a chair.

You smile, taking a seat across from her. “She’s got quite the imagination.”

Jisung watches the two of you with a thoughtful expression, his gaze lingering on how naturally you interact with his daughter. As you help Seyeon with her sandwich, he leans back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Thanks for today,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “I know it’s just one day, but… I think this could really work.”

You glance at Seyeon, who’s happily munching away, then back at Jisung. A sense of warmth fills your chest as you realize you’re starting to feel at home in this little corner of their world.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “I think it could too.”

After lunch, Seyeon insists on showing you her favorite books. She pulls you into the living room, climbing onto the plush couch with a stack of brightly colored storybooks in her arms. You settle in beside her as she excitedly flips through the pages, pointing out her favorite characters and scenes.

“This one’s about a bunny who gets lost but finds his way home,” she says, holding up a book with a soft pastel cover. “Mommy reads it to me all the time.”

Her mention of her mother comes so naturally that it catches you off guard, but you remember Jisung’s advice to let Seyeon talk about it if she wants to. “It sounds like a beautiful story,” you say gently. “Would you like me to read it to you?”

Seyeon nods enthusiastically, scooting closer to you. As you read, she leans against your side, her small hand clutching your arm. By the time you finish the book, she’s curled up next to you, her eyes drooping with sleep.

Jisung steps out of his studio, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. He pauses when he sees the two of you on the couch, a smile spreading across his face. “She’s out, huh?”

“Almost,” you whisper, glancing down at her. “She had a big morning.”

He nods, walking over to lift her gently into his arms. She stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling against his shoulder. Jisung looks at you with a mix of gratitude and something else—something warmer, deeper.

“You’re a natural,” he says quietly as he carries Seyeon to her room.

You follow him to the hallway, leaning against the doorframe as he tucks her into bed. He moves with such care, brushing a strand of hair from her face and placing her stuffed bunny next to her. Watching him, you realize just how deeply he loves his daughter, how much he’s trying to give her the stability she needs.

When he steps back into the hallway, he closes Seyeon’s door with a soft click and turns to you. “Thanks for being so patient with her,” he says. “She’s… well, she’s been through a lot. More than a five-year-old should.”

“She’s a wonderful kid,” you reply honestly. “And she clearly adores you.”

Jisung leans against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to do right by her, you know? After the divorce… I don’t want her to feel like she’s missing out on anything.”

You nod, understanding the weight of his words. “You’re doing your best, Jisung. And it shows. She’s happy, and that’s what matters.”

He looks at you, his gaze steady. “I meant what I said earlier. I think this could work. You and Seyeon—it’s like you’ve known each other forever.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “She’s easy to love.”

Jisung’s eyes soften. “She thinks the same about you.”

There’s a pause, a quiet moment where the weight of the conversation hangs in the air. Jisung seems to be considering something, his expression thoughtful.

“If you’re willing,” he says after a moment, “I’d like to make this more than just a trial run. I know it’s only been a day, but… I feel like this is the right fit. For her, and for you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his sincerity. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s a big responsibility.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice firm yet kind. “And I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. But more than that… I trust you. And so does Seyeon.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in your chest. It’s not just a job—it’s a chance to be part of something meaningful, to help this little family heal and grow.

“Okay,” you say finally, a small smile forming. “I’ll do it.”

Jisung’s face lights up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, y/n. Really.”

Just then, Seyeon’s soft voice calls out from her room, breaking the moment. “Daddy? Y/n?”

Jisung chuckles, pushing off the wall. “Looks like someone’s not quite asleep yet.”

You laugh, following him back to Seyeon’s room. As you step inside, you see her sitting up in bed, her bunny clutched tightly to her chest.

“Did you say yes, y/n?” she asks, her voice laced with sleepiness and hope.

You walk over to her, crouching down so you’re at eye level. “I did. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Seyeon’s face lights up, and she throws her arms around your neck. “Yay! I love you, y/n.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you glance up at Jisung, who’s watching with a soft smile. In that moment, you realize you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were looking for—a place where you truly belong.

The days quickly settle into a new rhythm. The mornings when Seyeon is at his apartment, you arrive at Jisung’s apartment to find Seyeon waiting for you with excitement bubbling in her tiny frame. Her favorite game is to guess what you’re wearing before you come in—a little ritual she made up—and she squeals with delight when she’s right.

“Pink sweater today! I knew it!” she announces one morning, hopping from foot to foot as you step inside.

“You’re getting too good at this,” you reply, laughing as you hang your bag by the door.

Jisung, already sipping his coffee at the kitchen counter, greets you with a relaxed smile. “She’s been talking about you since she woke up.”

“It’s mutual,” you tease, giving him a mock-serious look. “She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”

Seyeon beams, running off to grab her crayons and sketchbook. While she sets up at the living room table, Jisung leans against the counter, his gaze warm but thoughtful.

“She really does adore you,” he says softly. “I’ve never seen her take to someone like this before.”

You shrug, a little flustered by his sincerity. “She’s easy to love.”

“So are you,” he replies without thinking, and the words hang in the air for a moment. His eyes widen slightly, as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, and he quickly turns back to his coffee. “I mean—uh—you’re great with her. That’s all I meant.”

You chuckle, letting him off the hook. “Relax, Jisung. I’ll take the compliment.”

As the weeks pass, your bond with Seyeon grows stronger. You spend hours doing crafts, reading stories, and exploring the nearby parks. She introduces you to her favorite playground and insists on teaching you how to climb the jungle gym, which ends with her laughing hysterically as you awkwardly navigate the narrow bars.

One evening, as you’re helping Seyeon clean up her paints after an afternoon of finger painting, she pauses and looks up at you with her big, expressive eyes.

“Y/n,” she says, her voice small and serious. “Do you think Mommy would like you?”

The question catches you off guard, and you glance over at Jisung, who’s working at the kitchen table. He’s heard her too, his posture stiffening slightly as he waits for your response.

You crouch down to Seyeon’s level, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know, sweetie,” you say honestly. “But I hope so.”

Seyeon seems to think about this for a moment, then nods as if she’s made up her mind. “I think she would. You’re nice. And you make Daddy smile.”

Your breath catches at her words, and you glance at Jisung again. He’s looking at you now, his expression unreadable but soft. There’s something unspoken in the way his gaze lingers, something that makes your heart race.

“Thank you, Seyeon,” you whisper, giving her a gentle hug. “That means a lot.”

It’s a stormy afternoon, the kind where the rain drums against the windows in a steady rhythm, casting a gray haze over the city. You’re busy tidying up Seyeon’s play area when you notice she’s unusually quiet. Normally, she’d be coloring or arranging her toys into elaborate scenes, but today, she’s sitting on the couch, hugging her stuffed bunny with a somber expression.

“Hey, sweetie,” you say gently, walking over to her. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so quiet today.”

Seyeon doesn’t answer right away. She shifts slightly, burying her face in her bunny. After a moment, she mumbles, “I want Mommy.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water. Seyeon has mentioned missing her mom before is not a new, in these cases you would play a song for making her feel better or just asking her to do something to keep her mind away from the hard times when she is away from her mother - even for just a couple days like their divorce's papers mention. But this time, there’s a weight to her voice that makes your chest ache.

“Of course you do,” you say, crouching down to her level. “It’s okay to miss her, Seyeon.”

She finally looks up at you, her big eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Mommy and Daddy were yelling,” she says, her voice trembling. “I heard them on the phone. Mommy was crying. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”

You pause, your heart breaking for the little girl. It doesn’t take much to piece together what must have happened—Jisung and his ex-wife must have had an argument, and Seyeon overheard it. You don’t know the details, but it’s clear it’s left her feeling hurt and confused.

“I’m so sorry you heard that, sweetie,” you say softly. “That must have been really hard.”

Seyeon nods, her lip trembling. “It was scary. I don’t want Daddy to be mad at Mommy.”

You sit down beside her, giving her space but staying close enough that she knows you’re there. “Sometimes grown-ups get upset with each other, and they say things they don’t mean,” you explain. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you. Your mommy and daddy both love you so much, Seyeon. That’s the most important thing.”

“I still want Mommy,” she whispers, clutching her bunny tighter.

You’re about to respond when Jisung walks in from the hallway. He must have heard part of the conversation because his expression is filled with a mix of guilt and concern. He kneels beside you and reaches out for Seyeon, but she shrinks away, clutching her bunny even tighter.

“Seyeonnie, baby,” Jisung says softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry you heard that. Daddy didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Seyeon shakes her head, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “You were mean to Mommy! I don’t want to stay here! I want her!”

The words hit Jisung hard, and you can see the pain in his eyes. He glances at you, silently asking for help.

“Seyeon,” you say gently, shifting closer to her. “It’s okay to feel upset. But maybe we can talk about it together. Would you like to tell Daddy how you’re feeling?”

She sniffles, her tiny body trembling with emotion. “I don’t want to talk to Daddy,” she says quietly. Then, looking at you, she adds, “And I don’t want to talk to you either. I just want Mommy.”

The rejection stings, but you remind yourself that this isn’t about you. It’s about Seyeon needing to process her feelings in her own way. It's a part of your current job: being able to tell when their feelings are real or just overwhelming by things around her.

Jisung sits back on his heels, running a hand through his hair. “Sweetheart, I’ll call Mommy, and we can figure out a time for you to see her soon, okay? But right now, we’re here for you. Me and y/n both.”

Seyeon doesn’t respond, turning away and curling up on the couch. Jisung looks at you again, his expression helpless.

You stand up and gently place a hand on his arm. “Let’s give her a little space,” you whisper.

He nods reluctantly, and the two of you step into the kitchen. Once you’re out of earshot, Jisung leans against the counter, his shoulders slumping. “I messed up,” he mutters. “I never should have let her hear that.”

“It’s not your fault, Jisung,” you say quietly. “These things happen. She’s just overwhelmed right now.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with worry. “What do I do? She doesn’t even want to look at me.”

“Give her time,” you suggest. “Let her know you’re here when she’s ready to talk. And maybe call her mom—just hearing her voice might help Seyeon feel better. She will swing around jisung don't worry.”

He nods, pulling out his phone. As he dials, you glance back at the living room. Seyeon is still curled up on the couch, her bunny held close, but something tells you she’s listening.

A little later, after Jisung has arranged a call between Seyeon and her mom, you bring over a small plate of cookies and a glass of milk. You don’t say anything, just set it on the table near her and sit down in a chair a few feet away. Slowly, Seyeon uncurls, reaching for a cookie.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers after a few moments, her voice barely audible.

You smile softly, your heart aching with tenderness. “You don’t have to be sorry, sweetie. It’s okay to feel sad or mad. We all feel that way sometimes.”

Seyeon nods, nibbling on the cookie. Then, tentatively, she scoots closer to you. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” you say, your voice steady and reassuring. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For now, that’s enough. And as Seyeon leans her head against your arm, you glance over at Jisung, who gives you a small, grateful smile. Together, you’ll help Seyeon through this—one step at a time.

It’s late evening when your phone buzzes with a message from Jisung. You’re already home, curled up on your couch, replaying the events of the day in your mind. You studied all day for the upcoming exams, all day in that for walls of your apartment.

Jisung: Hey, are you free tonight? Could you come over? Seyeon’s not here, but… I’d really like to talk.

You stare at the message for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. It’s unusual for him to ask for your company when Seyeon isn’t around. That makes you slightly nervous but after a moment of hesitation, you reply.

You: Sure. I’ll be there in 20. You: should I be worried?

You chew your nail lightly, three dots moving on the screen as you start to get really agitated about what could actually mean. Does he want to end up things? does he think it's not necessary for him to have a nanny?

Jisung: silly, no, just wanna talk :)

When you arrive at Jisung’s apartment, he greets you at the door, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. He’s dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly disheveled, and you can tell immediately that he’s been overthinking.

“Thanks for coming,” he says softly, stepping aside to let you in.

“Of course,” you reply, setting your bag down by the door. “How’s Seyeon?”

“She’s with her mom this week, as usual,” he explains, leading you to the couch. “I thought it might be better for her to spend some time there, especially after what happened last Sunday. But she's coming tomorrow morning so, you come to work like always.”

You nod, sitting down beside him. “That makes sense. How are you holding up?”

He exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? Not great. I feel like I let her down. She heard things she shouldn’t have, and now she doesn’t even want to be around me.”

“She’s a little girl, Jisung,” you say gently. “She’s still figuring out how to handle her emotions. It's not easy to be a parent and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “I know you’re right, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m failing her. I just… I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”

You place a reassuring hand on his arm. “No parent has it all figured out. The fact that you care so much about her shows what a great dad you are. And she knows that, even if she’s upset right now.”

Jisung leans back against the couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about that day—about how you handled everything. You were so patient with her, even when she pushed you away. You’re amazing with her, y/n.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words. “I just want what’s best for her. She’s a wonderful kid.”

He turns his head to look at you, his expression soft. “You’re wonderful too. I don’t know what I would’ve done today without you. Since the day we met at the zoo, everything with you seems to.. find the right place.”

There’s a long pause, the weight of his words settling between you. Finally, he sits up straighter, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Y/n, I didn’t ask you over just to vent,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking… Seyeon’s been through so much with the divorce, and I know I can’t fix everything for her. But having you around—it’s made such a difference. For her and for me.”

You blink, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. “Jisung…”

“I don’t just mean as her nanny,” he continues quickly, his words tumbling out. “I mean… as someone I can rely on. Someone who’s already become such an important part of our lives. I don’t want to cross any boundaries or make things weird, but—”

“You’re not,” you interrupt gently, placing a hand on his knee to calm his rambling. “I understand what you’re trying to say.”

His shoulders relax slightly, but his eyes remain fixed on yours. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re more than just Seyeon’s nanny to me. And I don’t know where this could go, but I’d like to find out. If you’re willing.”

The room feels suddenly smaller, the air charged with unspoken possibilities. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, his eyes so big and soft makes you shivers.

“I care about you too, Jisung,” you admit softly. “And I care about Seyeon. I want to be here for both of you, but… we need to be careful. For her sake.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I agree. She comes first, always. But I don’t want to let this—whatever this is—slip away.”

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” you say gently.

Jisung nods, relief and hope flickering in his eyes. “One step at a time,” he agrees.

The next morning, you arrive at Jisung’s apartment right on time, ready to start your day with Seyeon. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the familiar hum of activity—the soft sound of music playing from the speakers, the faint smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and Seyeon’s little voice drifting from her play area.

She’s sitting on the floor in her pajamas, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. When she spots you, her face lights up in a way that makes your heart swell.

“y/n!” she exclaims, running over to you with her bunny clutched in one hand. “Look! I made a picnic for my friends!”

You crouch down to her level, admiring the intricate arrangement of plates, cups, and plastic food. “This looks amazing, Seyeon! Did you set this all up by yourself?”

She nods proudly, her curls bouncing. “Uh-huh! But you’re late, so we already ate the sandwiches.”

You gasp playfully. “Oh no! I missed the sandwiches? What am I going to eat now?”

Seyeon giggles, pulling you by the hand to sit down with her. “You can have dessert! We have cake and cookies.”

Jisung walks in at that moment, a mug of coffee in his hand. He leans against the doorway, watching the two of you with a soft smile. “Looks like you’ve been invited to the fanciest picnic in town,” he teases.

A blush spread on your face, remembering about the conversation that you had with Jisung the night before, “Only the best for me,” you reply with a grin, pretending to nibble on an invisible cookie. Seyeon bursts into another fit of giggles, clearly delighted by the attention.

The morning passes in a blur of laughter and playtime. You and Seyeon build a towering castle out of blocks, only for her to gleefully knock it down moments later. She insists on showing you her latest drawings, and you listen intently as she explains the story behind each one.

But it’s during her naptime that the moment when jisung is casually off work on his productions session.. After reading her favourite bedtime story, you tuck her in, smoothing the blanket over her small frame. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but just as you’re about to leave, she reaches out and grabs your hand.

“y/n?” she whispers, her voice small and drowsy.

“Yes, sweetie?”

She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Do you think Daddy loves Mommy still?”

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. You kneel down beside her bed, meeting her wide, searching eyes.

“I think your daddy loves you more than anything in the whole world,” you say gently. “And sometimes, grown-ups love each other in different ways. But no matter what, he and your mommy will always work together to make sure you’re happy and loved.”

She seems to mull over your words, her eyelids fluttering as sleep begins to take over. “Do you love Daddy?” she mumbles, her words slurring slightly.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I think your daddy is a very special person,” you say carefully. “And I’m really happy I get to spend time with you and him.”

Seyeon hums in acknowledgment, her grip on your hand loosening as she finally drifts off. You sit there for a moment longer, brushing a stray curl from her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. The realisation hits hard, she asked you a question that really makes you in difficulty, your hands are lightly sweaty after the careful words that you let hanging in her room.

You walk out closing the door behind you, as you’re cleaning up in the living room, Jisung comes in from his studio. He’s wearing his headphones around his neck and looks a little more relaxed than he did yesterday.

“She’s asleep?” he asks, leaning against the couch.

“Out like a light,” you reply with a smile. “She was so busy today, she didn’t stand a chance.”

Jisung chuckles, his eyes softening. “Thank you for being so patient with her. I know she can be a handful sometimes.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” you say, brushing off his praise. “And she adores you, Jisung. You’re doing a great job, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

There’s a pause, the air between you warm and comfortable. Jisung sits down beside you, his gaze flickering to the kitchen before settling back on you.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he starts, his voice quieter now. “About taking things one step at a time. I just want you to know how much it means to me that you’re here. Not just for Seyeon, but for me too.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. “I’m happy to be here,” you admit softly.

The days pass, and your bond with Seyeon—and with Jisung—deepens. Seyeon grows more comfortable around you, often seeking you out for everything from help with her drawings to impromptu dance performances in the living room. Jisung, in turn, seems to relax more in your presence, his usual walls lowering bit by bit.

One afternoon, after a particularly lively dance session with Seyeon that left you both giggling on the carpet, Jisung calls you into the kitchen. He’s preparing a snack for Seyeon, but the way he keeps glancing at you suggests he has something on his mind.

“y/n, can we talk for a second?” he asks, his voice cautious but kind.

“Of course,” you reply, leaning against the counter. “What’s up?”

He sets down the knife he’s been using to slice fruit and turns to face you fully. “I’ve been thinking about how much things have changed since you started working with us. You’ve brought so much stability into Seyeon’s life. And mine.”

You feel a mix of pride and nervousness at his words. “I’m glad I’ve been able to help,” you say sincerely. “She’s such a special little girl. And you’re doing an amazing job as her dad.”

“I know we agreed to take things slow,” he continues, his gaze steady but vulnerable. “But I can’t ignore how much you mean to both of us. I care about you, y/n. A lot. And I want to know if you feel the same.”

For a moment, the room feels impossibly still. Then, you nod, a small, shy smile spreading across your face.

“I do, Jisung,” you admit. “But I’ve been trying to be careful—for Seyeon’s sake.”

He nods, his expression softening. “I know. And I appreciate that more than you know. I just… I don’t want to let this slip away. I want us to figure this out—together.”

Before you can respond, a small voice interrupts from the doorway.

“Daddy?”

Both of you turn to see Seyeon standing there, her bunny clutched to her chest. Her hair is a little messy from her earlier playtime, and her wide eyes dart between the two of you.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Jisung says gently, crouching down to her level. “What’s wrong?”

Seyeon hesitates, then shuffles over to him. “Can y/n stay for dinner? And maybe… can we all watch a movie after?" The innocence of her request tugs at your heart, and Jisung glances up at you with a smile.

“What do you say?” he asks.

You kneel down beside them, matching Seyeon’s level. “I’d love to stay. But only if I get to pick the movie,” you tease, earning a giggle from the little girl.

As Seyeon throws her arms around both of you, pulling you into a spontaneous group hug, you realize how much this little family means to you—and how much you’re starting to mean to them.

Dinner that evening feels warm and lively, the kind of atmosphere that wraps around you like a cozy blanket. Jisung insists on cooking, and though the meal is simple—grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup—it feels perfect. Seyeon sits at the table, swinging her legs beneath her chair as she chatters about her favorite animals and what movie she thinks you should all watch.

“I think we should watch Moana!” Seyeon declares, her cheeks puffing as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just watch that last weekend?”

“But y/n hasn’t watched it with us!” Seyeon protests, her pout making you chuckle.

“I’d love to watch Moana,” you say, playfully nudging her. “But only if you promise to sing the songs with me.”

Her face lights up, and she practically bounces in her seat. “Okay! I’ll sing the Maui parts, and you can be Moana!”

Jisung laughs, shaking his head. “Guess I’m stuck being the chicken, huh?”

Seyeon giggles, and the sound fills the room, light and contagious. You catch Jisung’s eye across the table, and for a moment, the two of you share a look—one that feels like a silent agreement, a shared understanding that this little moment is something special.

After dinner, you all settle into the living room. Seyeon grabs her favorite blanket and curls up between you and Jisung on the couch. The lights are dimmed, the opening scene of Moana playing on the TV.

Seyeon sings along enthusiastically, her little voice bright and unrestrained. You join in at her insistence, your laughter mingling with hers as you both belt out the lyrics. Jisung, true to his word, adds exaggerated squawks whenever Hei Hei, the chicken, is on screen, earning peals of laughter from his daughter.

At one point, Seyeon leans her head against your arm, her tiny hand resting on your lap. The gesture is small but significant, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. When you glance over at Jisung, you notice he’s watching the two of you with a soft expression, his smile tinged with something deeper. His hand moves over your shoulder behind the couch, tracing pattern on your skin; shivers running down your spine.

As the movie progresses, Seyeon’s energy begins to wane. By the time Moana reaches Te Fiti, she’s fast asleep, her head now resting on your shoulder. You glance down at her peaceful face, her bunny tucked securely in her arms.

“She’s out,” you whisper, careful not to wake her.

Jisung nods, a fond smile on his lips. “She had a big day. And I think all that singing wore her out.”

You laugh softly, shifting slightly to make sure Seyeon is comfortable. “Do you want me to move her to her bed?”

Jisung shakes his head. “No, let her stay for a bit. She looks comfortable.”

For a while, the two of you sit in companionable silence, the credits of the movie rolling on the screen. Seyeon’s gentle breathing fills the room, a steady rhythm that feels grounding.

“Thank you for staying tonight,” Jisung says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look over at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the TV. “I’m happy to be here,” you reply honestly.

Jisung hesitates for a moment before reaching out, his hand brushing against yours on the couch. The touch is light, tentative, but it sends a wave of warmth through you. When you don’t pull away, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You smile at him, your heart full as you glance down at Seyeon. In this moment, surrounded by quiet warmth and the soft hum of contentment, you feel like you’ve found a place where you truly belong.

Jisung carefully scoops Seyeon into his arms, her bunny still clutched tightly to her chest. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her little face peaceful as she nestles closer to her father. He glances at you with a small smile before carrying her to her room.

You stay on the couch, tidying up the throw blankets and pillows, unsure if you should take your leave or wait for him to return. The quiet hum of the apartment makes you feel strangely calm, and yet, there’s a nervous energy lingering in the air.

A few minutes later, Jisung emerges from Seyeon’s room, shutting the door softly behind him. He looks tired but content, his hands resting on his hips as he walks back toward you.

“Is she okay?” you ask softly.

“Out like a light,” he replies with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “She didn’t even let go of that bunny.”

You smile, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Well, I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

Jisung’s expression shifts slightly, a mix of hesitation and something deeper flashing across his face. “Wait,” he says, his voice quiet but urgent. “Can you… stay a little longer? Just me and you?”

His request catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. But the trill of being alone with him keeps you rooted in place.

“Okay,” you say softly, setting your bag back down. “I can stay.”

The room feels quieter, the hum of conversation and laughter from earlier fading into a gentle stillness. Jisung steps closer, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to find the words that have been building between you both. His hand brushes against yours lightly, a soft touch that lingers a moment too long to be innocent.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice a whisper against the space between you. There’s a hesitation in his eyes, a vulnerability that pulls at your heart. You feel an electric spark, a tender moment that feels like it belongs only to you both.

“You didn’t have to ask,” you respond quietly, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. “I wanted to stay.”

He smiles faintly, his lips parting just slightly as if savoring the words you’ve given him. The air shifts, thick with unspoken desires and a quiet understanding that needs no elaboration. Your heart beats faster, anticipation making every breath feel heavier.

“Good,” he says simply, his voice smooth and low, a melody in itself. His hand slides fully into yours, fingers intertwining in a way that feels natural, almost inevitable. “Just you and me.”

Jisung move even closer, the space between you vanishing as his confidence grows. His gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes holding yours with a quiet intensity that sends shivers down your spine. Without a word, he lifts a hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a thrill through you. His breath brushes against your skin, warm and inviting. “Because I don’t want to rush this.”

You nod gently, heart fluttering as your fingers tighten around his. The world around you feels distant, every sense focused solely on him—on the way he looks at you, the way his presence consumes the room. His smile deepens, a playful glint lighting up his expression as he leans in just a bit more, the space between you almost nonexistent.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs, his lips a breath away from yours. “I don’t want to waste another second.”

Your breath catches, the heat in the room intensifying. His gaze is captivating, his touch electric, and the way he holds you makes every moment feel like something sacred. You tilt your head slightly, allowing him to close the distance. His lips press softly against yours, a tender kiss that speaks of patience and desire—a perfect balance of softness and passion. His lips barely brushing against yours. He can feel you gasp slightly at the sudden action, but he holds your chin with one hand and keeps you close, prolonging the kiss for a few more seconds before pulling away, a smirk on his face. "Not so talkative now, are we?"

You giggles, blushing in face as you cover your mouth a little, "you just kissed me! what you wanted me to say? kiss me more?"

His smirk grows bigger, "that doesn't sounds so bad-" you grabs lightly the sides of his hoodie, clenching your fingers as you is breathless. Pulling him for another kiss, he lets out a small gasp of surprise, but then melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. His arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you flush against his body. This time the kiss is more intense, deeper, hungrier.

You ends up on his lap, straddling it and his hands vanishing on your curves, the arch of your back to groping your ass gently, his hands makes you shivers.

A little gasp leaving your lips when his fingers digs on your rear, "u-uhm jisung.." you mumble, your lips for how badly you want to move away to stop the passionate moments, they keeps asking for more from jisung.

“Hm?” He hums as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his so needy, so messy, and you’re loving every second of it, even if you cannot stop thinking about his daughter being just in the room down the hallway. 

You move your lips apart letting his tongue meeting his in need, his hands pressing down your hips against his lap, you can feel his hardness through his clothes and it’s so damn sexy that your pussy start to pulse. “Seyeon.. she might.. wake up..”

Gasps between kisses, your lips are locked with him as he suck gently your tongue making you moan under your breath, he’s such a good kisser.

Before either of you can say more, the sound of a tiny voice cuts through the moment.

“Daddy! I need you!”

Seyeon’s voice, muffled but unmistakable, drifts out from her bedroom down the hall.

Both of you freeze in place, eyes wide and suddenly aware of the situation, you’re still on his lap, he’s still hard as hell and his hands are holding your ass.

“Oh no,” Jisung mutters, glancing toward her room. “Not now.”

You giggle softly, a nervous laugh that’s quickly overtaken by a chuckle. “You have to go,” you whisper, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling up. “She’s calling for you.”

Jisung groans dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before shaking his head. “She couldn’t have waited just five more minutes?”

“I think those five minutes would’ve take us in another situation,” you respond with a smirk, you move from his lap, standing up and fixing your clothes at the best. “Duty calls.”

He sighs, turning toward her room. “I’ll be right there, sweet cheeks!”

You make a beeline for the front door, grabbing your bag in a hurry, trying to stifle your laughter as you hear Seyeon giggling softly through the wall.

You poke your head back into the living room just as Jisung kneels beside her bed, trying his best to soothe her back to sleep. His expression is slightly flustered, and you can’t help but laugh one last time at the sheer comical timing.

“Goodnight, Jisung!” you call out with a wink. “Good luck!”

“Thanks,” he replies with a sheepish grin, though his voice carries a touch of relief when you finally step out the door.

As the door clicks shut behind you, the sound of Seyeon’s laughter and Jisung’s soothing voice floats into the night, and you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face.

Maybe next time, there will be fewer interruptions. But for tonight, the memory of that unexpected moment will stay with you.

It’s been almost seven months that you work for Jisung, since that day at the zoo you’re life almost switched. You passed almost every day waiting for the Saturday morning to see that little girl and her, very hot, daddy. Dawns with a quiet stillness in Jisung’s apartment. You arrive early to find Seyeon still curled up in bed, her little face flushed with fever and her bunny clutched tightly in her arms. Her soft coughs echo through the room, and it’s clear she’s not feeling her usual energetic self.

He told you by text that she was not feeling very well but the mother had to go on a business trip and she had to crash at his place for the rest of the weekend. Jisung is already in the kitchen, his own expression worn with worry, a damp towel pressed to his forehead. His hair is slightly messy, and his usually sharp eyes are dulled with fatigue. He turns when he hears your footsteps, his smile tired but appreciative.

“Good morning,” he greets you softly. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”

You step into the kitchen and take the towel from his hand, gently replacing it with a fresh one. “You look worse than Seyeon,” you tease lightly, though your concern is genuine. “Are you okay?”

He chuckles weakly, leaning against the counter. “Not exactly the most glamorous morning, huh?”

“No, but someone has to be the adult,” you say with a grin, though you glance over at Seyeon with a frown. “Let me handle her. You rest.”

“I would kiss you if I could,” He pout lightly toward you, almost playfully trying to steal a breif kiss from your lips.

Your giggles making him feel lightly better, “Don’t even try.”

Jisung sighs, grateful for your presence, and moves toward the couch. He collapses onto it with a sigh, his breathing steady but slow, clearly feeling the effects of whatever sickness has taken hold of both him and his daughter.

You walk softly into Seyeon’s room, pulling back the curtains to let the morning light in gently. She blinks up at you, her little face pale but her bright eyes still wide with curiosity.

“Hi, sweet cheeks,” you murmur, sitting down beside her bed. “How are you feeling?”

She sniffles, hugging her bunny tighter. “Daddy’s not feeling good either.”

You glance toward the living room, where Jisung lies sprawled out, looking almost worse than she does. “Yeah, well, Daddy might need some extra care too.” You ruffle her hair gently, trying to lift her spirits. “Let’s get you some breakfast, okay?”

Seyeon nods softly, her tiny hand wrapping around yours as you help her sit up. Her fever is still high, but her energy, though subdued, is still there. You prepare a light breakfast—warm soup, soft toast, and water—and sit with her at the dining table.

Meanwhile, Jisung has managed to find the strength to make his way to the kitchen, his movements slow but determined. He leans against the doorway, watching you with a quiet admiration, a small smile touching his lips as you care for his daughter.

“You don’t have to do all this,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from his own illness.

You glance up, offering him a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this, Jisung. She needs both of you right now.”

He breathes out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing at your words. “Thank you, y/n. For everything.”

“It’s what friends do,” you reply, though your heart aches a little at how fragile the moment feels. Taking care of them both—so sick and vulnerable—is more than just a task. It feels personal. It feels like family.

Also the fact that you called him ‘friend’ makes a fool out of you.

As the day stretches on, you find yourself handling both Jisung and Seyeon with gentle care, managing meals, administering medicine, and even tucking them into bed for naps. They may be ill, but there’s a quiet warmth that fills the apartment, a sense of support and togetherness that feels like a foundation for something more.

When the evening arrives, Seyeon is finally asleep in her room, and Jisung, though still weak, sits upright on the couch. You’re back in the kitchen, making tea for the both of you, the space calming and steady amidst the chaos of the day.

Jisung watches you from the doorway again, his eyes filled with gratitude and something softer—something you recognize as something deeper.

“y/n,” he starts softly, “You didn’t have to stay this long.”

You glance over your shoulder with a small smile. “I wanted to. And I’ll stay as long as you both need me.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful, and then softly says, “You’re incredible.”

You shake your head, pouring the tea. “Not really. Just doing what anyone would.”

But deep down, you know that’s not true. What you’re doing is more than just helping. It’s being there, fully present in a way that neither Jisung nor Seyeon seem to take for granted. And as you set the tea in front of him, watching him take a slow sip, you realize that even amidst sickness, something beautiful is quietly blooming between the three of you.

The evening has settled in a quiet calm after the whirlwind of the day. Seyeon is tucked into her bed, her fever finally lowering thanks to the care and attention she received. You sit beside Jisung on the couch, his body still warm, though not as feverish as earlier.

“I should probably get going soon,” you say softly, your voice gentle as you glance toward him. “You need rest too.”

Jisung leans back against the couch cushions, his eyes closing for a moment. “Just... a little longer,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Please?”

You hesitate, he looks so exhausted, so desperately in need of comfort, that you can’t bring yourself to leave just yet. “Okay,” you whisper, settling beside him on his bed again. “Just for a bit.”

His room is quite big for the apartment that he has, he has a beautiful window that gives the view to the city, a walk-in wardrobe that you can bet filled with crazy outfits that he used for his idol’s life, so many guitars on the wall. And a picture of him, his little girl and probably the ex-wife under a cottage, he’s playing the guitar looking lovely at the mother of Seyeon with her on her lap – they look so.. happy to you.

He lets out a breath, visibly relaxing as you stay close. The warmth of your presence is grounding for him, a welcome relief from the chaos of the past few days.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice softer than before. “For everything.”

You reach out instinctively, brushing a hand against his forehead to check his temperature again. “Still a bit warm,” you note, though it’s not dangerously high anymore. “But at least your fever’s coming down.”

Jisung hums in agreement, his hand instinctively finding yours. His fingers lace with yours, squeezing gently as if grounding himself in your touch. He doesn’t let go this time, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“It’s nice,” he murmurs softly. “Having you here.”

The simple admission surprises you, but it doesn’t feel awkward or forced. Instead, it feels natural, like two people seeking comfort in each other’s presence without the need for words.

You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The silence stretches for a few moments, the world outside fading into the background. You run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, soothing him in a way that feels effortless. His breathing slows, the warmth of his body against yours steadying with each passing second.

“Stay with me tonight?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the request is clear.

Your heart skips a beat, and though you’d considered leaving earlier, now the thought feels impossible. The tender moment shared between you, his vulnerability, the way he clings to you… it creates a sense of intimacy that feels more profound than anything you’ve experienced before.

“What if Seyeon finds out that I am here? I don’t want to hurt her,” you answer softly.

His arms moves around your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap, your hands still between his curls as his sick eyes find yours, “she doesn’t have to know, we will tell her that you came earlier than usual.”

His grip tightens just a little more. You lay back with him, your arm draped around his waist, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

It’s quiet again, except for the occasional sound of his breathing slowing into a peaceful rhythm. You stay like that, cradling him in your care, the weight of the moment grounding and beautiful.

Jisung shifts slightly, his body instinctively seeking more comfort in the warmth of your presence. His head dips, and before you realize it, he’s nestled against your chest, his cheek pressed to the soft fabric of your shirt. His breathing is steady but heavy with exhaustion, the fever leaving him unusually vulnerable.

You stiffen for a moment, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture. But when you glance down and see his peaceful expression—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his lashes casting delicate shadows against his flushed cheeks—you feel your heart soften.

“Jisung,” you whisper gently, brushing your fingers through his hair to see if his fever has spiked again. His temperature is still warm but manageable, the worst of it seemingly passed for now.

Instead of waking, he hums softly, his hand gripping the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. The gesture tugs at your heartstrings, his vulnerability clear in the way he clings to you, seeking solace even in his sleep.

You sigh softly, wrapping your arms around him with a tenderness you didn’t know you could offer so easily. “You’re really something else,” you murmur, your lips curving into a gentle smile as you stroke his hair rhythmically.

His breathing evens out further, and the weight of his body against yours becomes a grounding comfort. As the moments pass, you lean your head back against the pillow, letting the quiet intimacy of the situation settle over you.

It’s not what you expected when you agreed to stay, but now, with Jisung pressed close, his warmth radiating against you, it feels like exactly where you’re meant to be. You close your eyes, resting your chin lightly on the top of his head, and let the stillness carry you both into a rare and cherished peace.

The first rays of sunlight seep through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. You stir slightly, the ache in your back and the unfamiliar weight on your chest bringing you back to consciousness. Blinking a few times, you glance down and freeze.

Jisung is still draped over you, his head nestled against your chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His soft, even breaths tickle your skin, and his tousled hair brushes against your chin. It’s a startlingly intimate position, and your cheeks flush as the reality of the situation sets in.

You try to move subtly, hoping not to wake him, but the slight shift causes him to stir. He groans softly, his face nuzzling against you like a contented cat seeking more warmth.

“Jisung,” you whisper, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. “You’re… still on top of me.”

He hums in response, clearly not fully awake. “Hmm… comfy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you.

You suppress a laugh, shaking your head as you gently pat his shoulder. “Come on, sleepyhead. You’re crushing me.”

His eyes flutter open slowly, his gaze hazy and unfocused as he registers where he is—and more importantly, where you are. His face turns crimson in an instant, and he bolts upright, his disheveled hair only adding to the hilarity of the moment.

“Oh my God,” he blurts out, his voice hoarse with lingering sleep. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

You sit up too, waving a hand to stop him before he spirals into full-blown panic. “It’s fine, Jisung. You were sick, and we must’ve fallen asleep like that.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears still red. “Still… I should’ve been more aware. That’s so—”

“Unexpected? Sure. But it’s not the end of the world,” you interrupt, giving him a teasing grin. “Besides, you were pretty cute all snuggled up like that.”

His jaw drops slightly, and he stares at you, completely flustered. “Cute?! I—no—I mean—”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the awkward tension. “Relax, Jisung. It’s not a big deal.”

Just then, a small voice calls out from down the hall.

“Daddy? Where are you?”

The two of you exchange wide-eyed looks before scrambling off the bed. Jisung fumbles to fix his hair and grab his hoodie while you quickly smooth down your clothes, both of you rushing to look presentable.

“I’ll get her,” Jisung says, his voice still tinged with embarrassment, as he heads out of the room.

As you follow him, you can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. Despite the awkwardness, there’s an undeniable warmth that lingers between you—a connection that feels stronger than before. And as Seyeon’s giggles echo through the apartment, you realize that, awkward or not, this is exactly where you want to be.

As Jisung steps into the hallway, he quickly motions for you to follow him into the living room. His expression is one of barely concealed panic.

"Okay but," he whispers, running a hand through his messy hair. "We need a story. Seyeon can’t know we both slept in my room. She’ll definitely tell her mom, and... yeah, let’s avoid that."

You stifle a laugh, appreciating the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Jisung glances toward Seyeon’s room, where her little voice is calling out again, a clear mix of curiosity and impatience. He thinks for a moment before his eyes light up. “We’ll say you arrived really early to check on her, and I was still half-asleep when you got here.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Half-asleep and on top of me?”

He groans, his ears turning red. “Details she doesn’t need to know!” He waves his hands, flustered. “Just... sit on the couch and act like you just got here. I’ll handle the rest.”

Rolling your eyes but unable to resist the humor of the moment, you grab your bag from where it had been discarded the night before and plop yourself on the couch. You pull out your phone to make it look like you’ve been sitting there for a while.

“Daddy?” Seyeon’s voice is louder now as she pads into the living room in her pajamas, her bunny clutched in her arms. Her sleepy eyes widen slightly when she spots you. “y/nie! You’re here!”

You give her a warm smile, waving as if this is the most normal morning ever. “Morning, sweet cheeks. I came early to check on you and Daddy. How are you feeling?”

Seyeon blinks at you, her expression curious. “But I didn’t hear the doorbell…”

Jisung swoops in at that exact moment, his hoodie slightly askew and his hair still a mess. “That’s because Daddy let y/n in while you were still asleep, princess,” he says smoothly, crouching down to give her a hug. “She wanted to make sure you were feeling better.”

Seyeon narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her tiny hands on her hips. “Why is your hair so messy, Daddy?”

Jisung freezes for a split second before letting out an overly dramatic yawn. “Oh, that’s because I just woke up too! I was soooo tired after yesterday, remember?” He ruffles her hair playfully, distracting her as he stands. “But look at you—still the cutest little bean even when you’re sick.”

Seyeon giggles, her suspicions forgotten for the moment as she climbs onto the couch beside you. “Are you gonna stay with us today, y/n?”

You glance at Jisung, who gives you a grateful look over Seyeon’s head. “Of course,” you reply with a smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You and Daddy need someone to take care of you, don’t you?”

Seyeon nods eagerly, her little hands clutching yours. “Yes! Daddy is really bad at making soup.”

“Hey!” Jisung protests, but his playful tone makes you laugh.

As the three of you settle into the morning routine, the chaos of the earlier situation melts away. Jisung catches your eye every now and then, a mix of gratitude and amusement in his expression. And though the morning started with a flurry of awkwardness and quick thinking, it’s clear that neither of you would trade this for anything.

“y/n,” she says after a moment, her little voice breaking the quiet. “Do you know how to make pancakes?”

You glance over your shoulder with a smile. “I do, but I think soup is better for you today, sweet cheeks. Pancakes can wait until you’re all better.”

Seyeon pouts, but it’s short-lived as Jisung shuffles in, still looking half-asleep despite his attempt to pull himself together. He leans against the counter, his hoodie slightly crooked, and watches you with a soft, almost shy smile.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmurs as you stir the soup.

You wave him off. “I told you, you’re both sick. Somebody has to take care of you.”

Seyeon pipes up from the table. “y/n is the best at taking care of people, Daddy. You should hire her forever!”

Jisung chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll see, princess. For now, I think we’re lucky she’s here at all.”

You finish the soup and serve it up, sitting beside Seyeon to make sure she eats slowly. She chatters between spoonfuls, her energy already bouncing back, though she still has a telltale flush on her cheeks from the fever.

After breakfast, Jisung retreats to the couch, looking utterly exhausted but refusing to admit it. You catch him trying to sit up and work on his laptop, which you promptly take away from him.

“Absolutely not,” you scold, folding your arms. “Back to bed, Mr. Producer. You’re supposed to be resting, not working.”

“But—”

“No buts.” You place your hands on your hips, glaring down at him. “You’re lucky I don’t confiscate your phone too.”

Seyeon comes from behind her legs with a smirk and a playful voice, “ohoh, Daddy’s in trouble.”

Jisung gives you a sheepish smile, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. You win.”

He stands, but his movements are sluggish, his fever still lingering. You guide him back to his bedroom, where he collapses onto the bed with a dramatic groan.

“This feels like a punishment,” he grumbles, though there’s no real bite in his tone.

“It’s for your own good,” you reply, pulling the blanket over him. “Now stay put.”

As you turn to leave, he reaches out, his fingers lightly catching your wrist. “y/n,” he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Thank you. Really.”

You smile down at him, your heart softening at the sight of his tired but grateful expression. “Get some rest, Jisung. That’s all the thanks I need.”

When you leave the room, you find Seyeon curled up on the couch, already half-asleep with her bunny tucked under her chin. You drape a blanket over her and settle into the armchair nearby, the apartment finally quiet and peaceful.

The rest of the day passes quietly, with Seyeon resting on the couch and Jisung finally succumbing to sleep in his room. You tidy up the kitchen, check on both of them periodically, and eventually find a moment to sit and relax yourself. As you scroll absentmindedly on your phone, a text notification pops up.

Jisung: Hey. Are you still here, or did you head out while I was knocked out?

You smile, shaking your head as you type back.

You: Still here. Seyeon’s asleep on the couch. I’ll head out soon.

A minute later, another text buzzes in.

Jisung: You’ve been amazing today. Seriously, I don’t even know how to thank you.

You: I told you, no thanks needed. Just get better, both of you.

There’s a longer pause this time, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again. But then your phone buzzes once more.

Jisung: What if I wanted to thank you by taking you out? Like... on a date.

Your heart skips a beat, your thumb hovering over the keyboard as you reread the message. Is he serious? Judging by the second text that quickly follows, he’s just as nervous as you are.

Jisung: Unless that’s weird. Is that weird? I feel like I’m making this weird. Forget I said anything.

You can’t help but laugh, imagining his flustered expression.

You: It’s not weird. I’d like that.

The three dots indicating his reply appear almost immediately.

Jisung: Really? Okay. Great. When?

You glance toward the couch where Seyeon is still snoozing and back at your phone.

You: Let’s wait until you’re fully recovered, okay? I don’t want to be on a date with a guy who can’t keep his head up.

Jisung: Fair point. But it’s a deal. As soon as I’m better.

A week later, Jisung texts you with a time and location. He insists on keeping it a surprise, though he assures you it won’t be anything too fancy. When the evening arrives, you find yourself standing outside a cozy, tucked-away bistro in Seoul. The warm glow of fairy lights strung above the outdoor seating area adds a touch of magic to the atmosphere.

Jisung is already waiting for you, looking much healthier—and much more nervous. He’s dressed casually but thoughtfully, his hoodie swapped for a well-fitted sweater and jeans. His smile when he spots you is enough to make your heart skip.

“You look amazing,” he says, his eyes softening as he takes you in.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “You look pretty great yourself.”

He opens the door for you, leading you inside where the smell of freshly baked bread and herbs fills the air. The restaurant is intimate, with only a handful of tables and soft jazz playing in the background.

As you and Jisung settle at your table, the restaurant's warm ambiance makes you feel at ease. A candle flickers between you, its soft glow casting gentle shadows across his face. He looks relaxed, his posture leaning slightly forward as he glances at the menu.

“This place is beautiful,” you remark, taking in the quaint decor—exposed brick walls, wooden beams, and vintage artwork.

Jisung smiles, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I thought you’d like it. It’s one of my favorite spots, but I haven’t had a reason to come here in a while.”

A waiter arrives, pouring water into delicate glasses and handing you menus. Jisung grins as he watches you scan the options. “What are you thinking of getting?”

“Hm, probably the pasta,” you say, biting your lip as you deliberate. “What about you?”

“The steak,” he says without hesitation, then chuckles. “Seyeon would roll her eyes if she saw me order it. She keeps trying to convince me to go vegetarian.”

You laugh at the thought. “She’s quite the little advocate. How’s that going for you?”

“Let’s just say I’ve perfected the art of sneaking bacon into my meals when she’s not looking,” he admits with a mischievous grin.

You’re both laughing when the waiter returns to take your orders, and as the night unfolds, the conversation deepens.

Jisung leans on his hand, watching you with a softness that makes your cheeks warm. “So, what made you want to work with kids?”

You shrug, swirling your water glass idly. “I’ve always liked working with kids. They’re honest in a way adults sometimes aren’t, you know? And they remind me to find joy in little things.”

His gaze doesn’t waver, and for a moment, you feel a little self-conscious under his attention. “That’s exactly what Seyeon needed,” he says. “She’s been through so much for someone her age, and I’ve worried about her losing that joy. You’ve brought it back.”

You smile softly. “She’s a great kid, Jisung. You’ve done an amazing job with her.”

He shakes his head, his expression a mix of humility and gratitude. “I’ve tried, but there’s always this part of me that worries I’m not enough for her. Especially with everything between her mom and me.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “You’re more than enough. Seyeon adores you. And the fact that you care so much says everything.”

He looks at you for a long moment, then smiles, a quiet kind of relief in his eyes.

The dishes arrive, breaking the tender atmosphere, and you both dive into your meals. The food is incredible, and the easy banter resumes. Jisung insists you try a bite of his steak, holding a piece out on his fork with an exaggerated flourish.

“Fine,” you say, laughing as you lean forward to take it. The steak practically melts in your mouth. “Okay, that’s ridiculously good.”

“Told you,” he says with a wink, taking a triumphant bite.

You share stories from your past, from embarrassing childhood moments to your favorite memories, and Jisung counters with tales from his idol days.

“Wait, you seriously tripped on stage during a live broadcast?” you ask, trying and failing to hold back your laughter.

“Oh, not just tripped,” he says, groaning dramatically. “I wiped out. Full face-plant. The members wouldn’t let me live it down for months.”

By the time dessert rolls around—an indulgent chocolate lava cake you decide to split—you feel like you’ve known him forever.

“Okay, honest question,” Jisung says, wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

You think for a moment before answering. “Somewhere quiet, with a lot of nature. Maybe near the ocean. What about you?”

He pauses, his gaze thoughtful. “Honestly? Wherever Seyeon is. She’s my world.” Then, after a beat, he adds, “But having someone like you there wouldn’t hurt either.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat again.

The conversation lingers even after the plates are cleared, neither of you in a hurry to end the night. When the check arrives, Jisung snatches it before you can protest, giving you a playful glare.

“Don’t even try,” he says. “This is my treat.”

By the time dinner is over, the warmth between you feels almost tangible. Jisung insists on walking you home, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you stroll side by side.

When you reach your door, he hesitates, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I had a really great time tonight,” he says, his voice soft.

“Me too,” you reply, smiling up at him.

There’s a brief pause, and then he steps closer, his gaze flicking to your lips.  “Is it okay if I—”

Before he can finish the question, you lean in, closing the distance. His lips are warm and soft against yours, the kiss sweet and unhurried, a perfect culmination of the night.

When you pull back, his cheeks are pink, but the smile on his face is radiant.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice full of promise.

“Goodnight, Jisung,” you reply, already looking forward to what’s to come.

A few days after your magical date with Jisung, your phone buzzes while you’re at home. It’s a text from him.

Jisung: Hey, no pressure, but the guys are getting together for dinner this weekend. I’d love for you to come along.

You read the message a couple of times, your heart fluttering.

You: Are you sure? I mean, isn’t that like…a big deal?

Jisung: It’s not a big deal! Well, okay, maybe it is a little, but only because I want them to meet you. They’re like family to me.

You: And you’re sure they won’t think it’s weird?

Jisung: baby, they’re going to love you. Trust me. Besides, it’ll be fun. Casual. No pressure.

You: Okay. Let’s do it.

The evening of the dinner, Jisung picks you up, visibly excited. “You look amazing,” he says, grinning as you slide into his car. “You’re going to fit right in.”

The dinner is at a trendy Korean BBQ restaurant, and the private room is already lively when you arrive. The other members of Jisung’s former group greet you warmly, their energy filling the space.

“Guys, this is y/n,” Jisung says, his arm resting lightly on your back. Then, with a small but unmistakable smile, he adds, “My girlfriend.”

You feel a collective shift in the room as all eyes turn to you, surprise quickly morphing into grins and playful teasing.

“Girlfriend?” Chan, the leader, says, raising an eyebrow at Jisung. “Since when?”

“Since recently,” Jisung replies, his tone casual but his expression soft as he looks at you.

“Wow, finally! I thought this day would never come,” Changbin teases, earning a laugh from everyone, including you.

“Okay, okay, don’t scare her off,” Jisung says, laughing as he guides you to a seat beside him.

As the night goes on, the atmosphere grows more relaxed. The members share hilarious stories from their time as a group, complete with impressions and exaggerated reenactments.

“Did he tell you about the time he lost his pants on stage?” Hyunjin asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Hyunjin!” Jisung protests, his face turning bright red.

“Oh, please, you have to tell me now,” you say, laughing.

Jisung groans dramatically, covering his face as Hyunjin dives into the story, complete with theatrical flair.

When it’s your turn to share something about yourself, they listen intently, occasionally throwing in jokes that make everyone laugh. You can tell how much they care for Jisung, and their approval feels like a warm embrace.

“You’re really good for him,” Chan says quietly as the others are distracted grilling meat. His kind smile reassures you. “He’s been happier lately. Thank you for that.”

You glance at Jisung, who’s laughing at something Seungmin just said, and feel a wave of affection. “He makes me happy too,” you reply honestly.

The teasing began almost as soon as Changbin noticed how attentive Jisung was being to you throughout the dinner. Whether it was making sure you had enough food or leaning in to whisper something funny in your ear, it was clear Jisung was smitten—and Changbin wasn’t going to let that slide unnoticed.

As the group grilled meat and exchanged banter, Changbin raised an eyebrow at Jisung, smirking. “You know, Jisung, it’s funny…” he began, drawing the attention of everyone at the table.

Jisung immediately tensed, a cautious look flashing across his face. “What’s funny?” he asked warily.

Changbin gestured toward you with his chopsticks. “Just how different y/n is from your ex. I mean, not to stir the pot or anything—”

“Then don’t,” Jisung interjected, though his tone lacked bite.

But Changbin wasn’t stopping. “—but seriously! Like night and day. y/n’s relaxed, fun, down-to-earth…” He trailed off with a playful shrug, his grin growing.

The table erupted in laughter, though you felt a little heat creep into your cheeks. You glanced at Jisung, who was glaring at Changbin with mock annoyance, his ears turning red.

“Yah, Changbin-hyung,” Jisung said, pointing his chopsticks at him. “You don’t have to point it out like that.”

“Oh, come on, it’s a compliment,” Changbin said with a laugh, raising his hands in mock defense. “I’m just saying you clearly upgraded. Don’t act like you don’t know it.”

“Hyung’s glowing,” Felix chimed in with a cheeky grin, piling on the teasing.

“Don’t make me regret inviting you all,” Jisung muttered, though the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.

You decided to jump in, hoping to lighten the moment. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or slightly concerned about how much you’re comparing me to her,” you joked, earning more laughter from the group.

Changbin laughed the hardest. “No, no, you should definitely be flattered. He’s happier than I’ve seen him in years.”

Jisung sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Seungmin replied with his trademark deadpan humor, making everyone laugh again.

Despite the teasing, you could feel the warmth in the room, the genuine affection Jisung’s friends had for him—and, by extension, for you. As Jisung reached under the table to squeeze your hand, his shy smile told you he didn’t mind the jokes as much as he let on.

Later, as you were leaving, Jisung shook his head, muttering, “Changbin’s never going to let me live that down.”

The car ride back to Jisung’s apartment was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. The earlier teasing and laughter had dimmed, replaced by a thoughtful silence that neither of you rushed to break.

Finally, you glanced over at him. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you started softly, your voice gentle. “But… how did things end with your ex?”

Jisung’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. He looked straight ahead, his expression unreadable for a moment before speaking. “It wasn’t easy,” he said quietly. “Nothing about it was.”

You gave him a moment, waiting patiently. “We were young when we met. Fell in love quickly. For a while, it was perfect. We supported each other through everything—the good and the bad. But… the more I focused on my career, the more she felt like she was losing herself.”

You could see the pain flicker in his eyes as he said it, the weight of those words hanging between you.

“It’s hard, when two people are going in different directions,” he continued, his voice a little hoarse. “The distance, the misunderstandings—it felt like the walls were closing in. Eventually, we stopped talking as much. Stopped seeing each other the way we once did.”

You reached out, lightly placing a hand on his knee. “That must’ve been really painful,” you said softly. “To watch something you both built fall apart.”

Jisung let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing under your touch. “It was. Still is, sometimes. But… we weren’t right for each other. And Seyeon deserved more stability, more love than we could give her when we were barely holding on ourselves.”

The honesty in his voice cut through the tension in the car, and you felt a deep sympathy for the man who had carried so much weight for so long. “You’re doing your best,” you said gently. “For both of them.”

He glanced at you, offering a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I try.”

You gave his knee a squeeze, the touch offering comfort, though the quiet that followed was heavier now. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but you felt like you understood a little more of Jisung—the man behind the laughter, behind the fame.

After a while, he spoke again, softer this time. “I don’t talk about her often. Seyeon means everything to me. She’s my world now. And I don’t regret how things turned out, even if it hurt.”

“I know,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “But it’s okay to talk about it. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

He nodded slightly, his fingers drumming softly against the steering wheel. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Seeing how happy Seyeon is now, and knowing that the woman who helped create her is still part of the equation. It’s not simple.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. “But you’re doing better than you think.”

The rest of the drive was quieter, the words exchanged grounding but still heavy with emotion. You didn’t need to fill the silence. Just being there was enough.

When you arrived at his apartment, Jisung reached for your hand, holding it tightly as you both stepped out of the car. The weight of the conversation lingered, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you.

The door to Jisung’s apartment creaked open slowly, and your heart immediately sank when you stepped inside. The tension in the air was thick, palpable even before you saw them. Voices—raised, angry—echoed from down the hall.

“No, Jisung! You can’t just bring her into our lives like this!”

It was her, you could’ve tell by the long thick brown hair and her slim body. Seyeon’s mother. Her voice sharp, filled with frustration, and a trace of betrayal.

Jisung’s voice followed, equally firm and unyielding. “She’s part of Seyeon’s life. She’s part of mine now too. You don’t get to control that anymore.”

You froze by the entrance, uncertainty washing over you. You could hear Seyeon’s soft cries from her room, the sound barely audible through the tense exchange. She must’ve heard everything.

This isn’t how I wanted it to start, you thought, your grip tightening on your bag.

The apartment felt suffocating. Every word was a blow, a crack in something fragile. They had been separated for years, and yet the wounds still ran deep.

“You’re being selfish!” her voice snapped. “You didn’t even consult me! She’s a nanny, Jisung! A stranger! You’re bringing her into her life without thinking—without even telling me!”

“I did think about it!” Jisung shouted back, his voice raising with every word. “I thought about what’s best for Seyeon. And if that means bringing y/n into our world, then so be it. I’m not going to hide who she is anymore.”

The tension in the room crackled, a storm brewing that neither of them seemed ready to weather.

You felt like an intruder, standing there in the doorway, unable to move, unable to escape the weight of it all. This wasn’t supposed to be your role—caught between two parents who were struggling to put their differences aside.

Finally, Jisung’s voice lowered, softer but no less fierce. “This isn’t about me or you anymore. It’s about her. About Seyeon. And she deserves to be happy, to feel safe—whether that’s with me or with you.”

A heavy silence fell over the apartment, the kind that left no room for words. You could hear the trembling breaths of both Jisung and Seyeon’s mother, neither one backing down, neither one willing to compromise.

“I’m not here to take her place,” you said softly, stepping forward into the hallway. “I’m here for Seyeon. She needs stability, and I want to be a part of that. But I’m not here to replace anyone.”

Both their eyes snapped to you, the weight of your words landing between them.

Jisung’s mother softened slightly at your presence, though her gaze was still sharp. “And what happens when this… arrangement falls apart? You’ll leave too? Like everyone else?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, holding her gaze steadily. “I’m here as long as Seyeon needs me. And if that’s what Jisung and I decide, then I’ll be here. It’s not about me; it’s about her.”

Another beat of silence followed. Jisung stepped closer to you, his hand briefly finding yours in a gesture of quiet support.

Seyeon’s mother exhaled slowly, her anger subdued but not gone. “You have no idea how complicated this is,” she finally said, her voice low and weary. “And maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe Seyeon does need more than just a father or a mother. But this isn’t what I imagined for her. Not this.”

Jisung nodded solemnly, his jaw tight. “I know. But we don’t always get to choose how life turns out. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. That’s all.”

Seyeon’s soft sniffles turned into quiet whimpers from her room, and Jisung’s mother’s face softened slightly at the sound. “She’s scared,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “She’s hearing all of this. She doesn’t understand.”

Jisung’s eyes closed for a moment, his breath hitching slightly. “I know. I know. And I hate this more than anything. But she’ll get through it. We’ll get through it.”

A final, heavy pause hung in the air before Seyeon’s mother spoke again. “You’d better hope this works, Jisung. Because if it doesn’t…”

“I know,” he interrupted, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I know.”

She turned, walking toward Seyeon’s room, knocking softly on the door. “Seyeon, it’s mommy,” she said gently, her voice wavering. “Can I come in?”

The little girl’s hesitant voice responded from behind the door, but it was barely audible. “No, mommy. I wanna stay with daddy…”

Jisung’s face tightened, the raw pain evident as he looked toward the door. Without another word, Seyeon’s mother left the apartment, closing the door softly behind her. The silence that followed was deafening.

Jisung leaned against the wall, his breath shaky, and you approached him carefully. “She didn’t mean what she said,” you said softly, your hand resting on his arm. “She’s just scared.”

“I know,” Jisung murmured, pressing his forehead against the cool wall, his voice hoarse. “But it hurts. More than I ever thought it would.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding him close, letting him feel the comfort you could give, even if it wasn’t enough. “You’re doing everything you can. For both of them.”

Together, you stood there, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both. Seyeon’s cries continued softly from her room, and you knew that healing would be a long, painful journey—one neither of you could rush.

The night was long and heavy. Jisung sat by Seyeon’s room, occasionally knocking softly to check on her, but she never answered. The pain of her confusion and fear was palpable, even from the other side of the door.

You stood quietly in the living room, watching him from a distance. The man who had always seemed so composed, so in control, was unraveling. His shoulders sagged, his head hanging low as he struggled with the weight of the situation. You knew how much Seyeon meant to him, and seeing him like this, broken yet determined, tugged at your heart.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he broke the silence. “She doesn’t want me to go in,” Jisung said, his voice low and strained. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

You walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You can’t force her, Jisung. She needs time.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I just—” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he couldn’t finish his thought. “I feel helpless.”

“You’re not,” you assured him quietly. “You’re doing everything right. She knows you love her.”

Jisung let out a breath, leaning back against the wall. “I keep thinking about what I could’ve done differently—what I should’ve done. Maybe if we hadn’t fought like that, she wouldn’t be so scared.”

You knelt down in front of him, forcing him to look at you. “No one’s perfect, Jisung. You’re doing everything you can. And that’s enough.”

A small smile broke through his pain, though it was bittersweet. “You’re too good to me.”

You squeezed his hand softly, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes without words. “Because you deserve it.”

His hands moves on your cheeks gently, cupping your face and bring it close to his, his lips ghosting yours for a moment before his mouth collide against you gently - but fill with passion. He's in a pure need of attention and gentle touches. You kiss him back with the same feeling because you are slowly realising how much you are in love with this man.

As the kiss continue, as your lips keeps going for his, his hands slips on the back pocket of your jeans making you squirm a little against his lips, "J-jisung.."

"Please."

"Not now okay?" you coo as your thumb brush against his bottom lip gently, for how badly you want his hands on you, the moment is not the best. He press his lips together before pressing them gently against your thumb. "Okay, you're right."

The night dragged on, the quiet moments shared between you filled with unspoken understanding. You sat together in the dim glow of the living room lamp, sharing stories and reminiscing about simpler times, anything to ease the tension between you.

As the sky began to lighten with the first rays of dawn, Jisung finally spoke again. “She still doesn’t want to see me. But maybe… if she sees you here with me, she’ll feel safe enough to come out.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “I’ll be here. For both of you.”

He nodded slowly, a sense of peace washing over him at your words. Even in the quiet of the morning, the weight of the previous night hadn’t completely lifted, but it was a step forward—however small.

Just as the sun started to rise, a soft shuffle came from Seyeon’s room. Her small voice called out quietly, unsure yet hopeful. “Daddy?”

Jisung’s breath hitched, and without thinking, he moved toward the door. “Sweetcheeks?”

Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing a timid, tear-streaked face. Her mother’s protective instincts were evident, but her little eyes searched for something familiar—something safe.

“Come here, sweet girl,” Jisung whispered, his voice gentle and full of love. He knelt down, opening his arms wide, and Seyeon stepped into them hesitantly. He wrapped her up in a tight embrace, her tiny arms clinging to him like a lifeline.

“I was scared,” she murmured against his shoulder, her voice barely audible.

“I know, baby,” Jisung said softly, rocking her gently. “But you’re safe now. You’re with me.”

You watched from a distance, your heart swelling with emotion. Watching Jisung finally connect with his daughter after the turmoil gave you a sense of purpose that was hard to explain. He deserved to be her rock, just as she deserved to lean on him.

After a few moments, Seyeon lifted her head, her tear-streaked face searching for yours. “y/n,” she said softly, her small voice tinged with curiosity. “You stayed?”

You smiled warmly, crouching down to her level. “Of course I did, sweetie. I told you, I’m here for both of you.”

It’s almost midnight of a random Wednesday when your phone buzz with a jisung’s text asking you to come to his apartment for a small stay in date, you’re over the edge. You missed him, you missed your boyfriend because the last week you couldn’t see him – he was too busy working, Seyeon stayed with her mother an addictional weekend and your essays were one on top of the other in your desk. So when he asked you to be there in 10 minutes, you were already taking the bus to his house. You didn’t dressed up, you just casually put a comfortable sweater on and a skirt just how he seems to like you.

When you knock at the door his happy smile makes you feel immidiately at home. “Hey, beautiful,” Jisung greets, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk. His messy hair and soft hoodie make him look effortlessly perfect, and the way his eyes rake over you sends a shiver down your spine. “You didn’t make me wait long, did you?”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Not everyone has the luxury of teleporting, Sungie. The bus takes time.”

He chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “You could’ve run here. I would’ve been worth it.”

His teasing tone is matched with a flirtatious glance, and before you can come up with a witty reply, his hands find your waist as soon as the door closes. He pulls you in, the familiar warmth of his touch melting away the stress of your week. His lips brush your temple, then your cheek, lingering just enough to make your heartbeat quicken.

“You smell like heaven,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. His lips find your ear, and you swear you can feel his smile. “And you look even better than I imagined.”

Your face heats up as you lightly shove his chest. “you’re saying this knowing damn well how I loove.”

He catches your hands and holds them against his chest, his grin widening. “maybe yes, maybe no. That’s up to you.”

The warmth in his eyes makes your knees weak, but before you can drown in his gaze, he tugs you further inside. The living room is dimly lit, fairy lights draped across the walls casting a soft glow over the space. A cozy blanket is spread across the couch, and the coffee table holds a bottle of soda – because he knows you don’t like to drink and he secretly appreciate that, two glasses, and a bowl of popcorn.

Jisung notices your eyes scanning the setup and tugs at your hand to pull you closer. “Nothing fancy,” he says, feigning nonchalance, “but I figured you deserve a little break. Just us, we didn’t had that many dates due my schedules and your exams.”

Your heart swells as he leads you to the couch. The air between you is thick with anticipation, his hand lingering on yours as you sit. He leans in close, his knee brushing against yours. “So,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave, “how much did you miss me?”

You try to stay composed, but his proximity and the mischievous glint in his eye make it impossible. “Enough to take the bus at almost midnight,” you reply, meeting his gaze.

His smile turns sly as he shifts even closer, his lips mere inches from yours. “Only enough for that?” he teases, his voice a breathy whisper. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to make you miss me more.”

Before you can answer, his hand cups your cheek, and he closes the distance between you. His lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a tenderness that quickly turns intoxicating. The world outside fades away as you lose yourself in him—his touch, his scent, the way he tastes like home.

When he finally pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his voice is husky. “You’re mine tonight. No essays, no kids, no stress—just us. Deal?”

You nod, breathless, already sinking into the haven he’s created. “Deal.”

Jisung smiles against your lips as you kiss him again, his hands still cradling your face like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. He pulls back just far enough to see your flushed cheeks and dazed expression, his own grin soft and full of affection.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

He leads you to the couch, settling you into the corner where the blankets are piled. He sits down beside you and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as if he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the world. The faint hum of the fairy lights fills the air, along with the soft rustle of the blanket as he tucks it over both of you.

You relax against him, your head naturally finding its place on his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own warmth makes you sigh in contentment. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the outside world a distant memory. Jisung shifts slightly, adjusting the blanket and pulling you closer, his fingers now absentmindedly running through your hair.

“What are we watching?” you ask eventually, your voice muffled against his chest.

He chuckles softly, his chest vibrating against you. “Nothing yet. I got too distracted by you.”

You playfully swat his side, but he only laughs, pulling you even closer. “Alright, alright,” he relents, reaching for the remote. “Let’s pick something cozy. You’re the boss tonight.”

You glance at the screen as he scrolls through the options, his free hand never leaving your waist. After some debate, you settle on a rom-com, one of your favorites that he insists he’s never seen but secretly knows by heart.

As the movie plays, Jisung’s commentary is both endearing and hilarious, his whispered quips earning giggles from you that he seems determined to keep coming. When you laugh too hard, he presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he whispers, “I love that sound.”

His lips find your neck, leaving soft pecks long the way, your hands instinctively clutch at his hoodie as his lips find your neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that make your heart race. He takes his time, his touch unhurried, as if savoring every second. When he reaches the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, he lingers, his lips brushing over your skin with maddening gentleness.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice a low rasp that sends a thrill down your spine. His teeth graze your skin lightly, and your grip on his hoodie tightens.

“Jisung,” you say again, your voice a mix of a plea and a warning. He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your neck.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence as his lips press another kiss just below your collarbone. “I’m just making up for lost time.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him more access despite yourself. His hands slide to your waist, steadying you as he continues to kiss and nuzzle your neck. Each press of his lips feels like fire and electricity, sending sparks through your entire body.

“Missed you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. The tenderness in his words is enough to make your heart clench, and you can’t help but pull him closer.

“I missed you too,” you admit, your fingers tangling in his hair. He lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with affection—and something more.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he leans in to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It’s slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a promise. 

Your hands slips on the elm of his hoodie, removing it from his body and you canno’t stop looking. The tattoos on his torso are incredibly attractive, broad shoulders, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, you’re fingers are itching to touch his toned skin, “damn.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “are you that surprised?”

“well yeah for your age-“ You smirk causing him to pout. “hey!”

His arms moves around your waist, lifting you from the ground and placing your stomach against his shoulder, you kicks lightly your legs in the air, “Jisung you better put me down!”

Giggles fills the apartment as he hold you with an arm around your waist and the other patting playfully your ass, “nah, I can carry you easily like this.”

“But—“

“No buts, you’re not a kid and tonight you’re my girl to pleasure.” His words are warm and they make you blush when you step into his room, a smile growing in your lips and another laugh left your lungs when he kindly let you lay on the bed, your back against the sheets that smells like him.

“You are—“ he swallow lightly, his fingers tracing the elm of your shorts, “beautiful. Breathtaking.” 

Your clothes end up quickly on the floor, his hands roaming all over your body, tracing your skin and trying to get every single part touched by him, he wants you to forget about the past partners and remember only him. Him and his smile, him and his giggles, his soft and kind voice. 

The arch of your back makes him shiver, it’s a scene of a movie, his index trace from between your breasts to the sweet roll of your tummy, making you chuckle, “are you having fun?”

“Very. And you?” His eyes looks for confirm, your nods is enough for his finger to run over your belly button. He’s teasing you, you can tell. It tickles you. “Jisung don’t tease me.”

“What they say? waiting increases desire,” You roll his eyes at your boyfriend’s smirk.

“You say that to your kid,” he squeeze his eyes a little, shaking his head quickly almost to remove a thought from his mind, “don’t.. don’t say that!”

A small noise of surprise falls from your lips, just as he lean to kiss you softly to shut you up — he need more. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and at the same time, he presses his lips harder against yours. His lips mold into yours, spit gathering in his mouth from hunger. 

His hands spread apart your legs wide, making you squeak at the sudden action, his hands grips your hips raising them enough for his dick to rub against your folds, “you’re teasing me again.”

Your purrs makes his skin shivers, “do you want me that bad?” he bend over you, his nose nudge against yours gently as you smile, the intimacy of the moment makes your pussy get wetter.  

His hands grip your waist tightly as he feels your wet heat taking him inch by inch, “Fuuuuck, how many times have I dreamt about this?” He hiss, you’re absolutely enjoying this. 

Jisung is stretching you out so good, as his cock is rubbing over that sweet spot inside you. He’s enjoying the view, you’re hidden eyes, the way your tits are bouncing when he push deeper in you. It’s been a while since he fucked someone and it felt this good, it’s really hard for him to not come yet.

“I’m so close.. jisung.” You’re moans filled his room, your head moved backward making him grunt under his breath, he pulls out stroking his shaft in a rough manner, “no.. no cum inside.”

“A-are you sure?” Your hand reach for his tip gently, brushing the tip with his thumb making his hips moving forward for his touch, you guide his cock back inside you, your walls squeezing him again as he start to thrust into you faster than before, rougher, raw. It’s a feeling that makes your feel full, the light bulge in your low stomach makes him with a cocky smirk, “oh look how deep I am.”

He brushes his fingers over your skin, making you whimper, your legs tight around his waist, “o-oh God— Jisung..” Your legs shakes in pleasure as he cums deep in you, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

He slowly moves to lay beside you, trying to catch some breath after the intensity of your love making. The room is bathed in a warm, golden glow from the bedside lamp as you and Jisung lay tangled together beneath the covers. His arm is draped lazily around your waist, his fingers drawing absentminded circles on your skin. You feel utterly at peace, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ear.

But then, he breaks the silence with a dramatic sigh.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice filled with mock seriousness. “I need to tell you something. Something big.”

You tilt your head to look up at him, his expression so over-the-top that you can’t help but giggle. “What is it, Sungie? Did you run out of snacks again?”

“No,” he groans, throwing his free hand over his forehead like a tragic hero in a melodrama. “It’s worse. Much worse.”

You raise an eyebrow, biting back another laugh. “Worse than running out of snacks? Now I’m worried.”

He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow and staring down at you with wide, comically serious eyes. “I’m not ready to be a dad again,” he declares, his voice filled with mock despair. “I barely survived the first time.”

It takes you a second to process his words, and then you burst into laughter. “What are you even talking about? You’re an amazing dad to Seyeon!”

“That’s not the point!” he retorts, wagging a finger at you like a professor giving a lecture. “Seyeon’s a literal angel. She eats her vegetables, brushes her teeth without a fight, and even says please and thank you. Do you know how rare that is?”

You nod, still laughing. “So what’s the problem?”

He flops back down onto the pillows, groaning dramatically. “The problem is, I’ve been spoiled! What if the next kid is a little gremlin? What if they refuse to eat anything except chicken nuggets and demand a bedtime story and a TED Talk every night before bed?”

You cover your mouth to stifle your laughter as he continues, his arms flailing for emphasis. “And don’t even get me started on the diapers. Do you have any idea how many diapers I changed with Seyeon? Enough to build a small fortress! I could’ve gone pro in diaper-changing.”

You snuggle closer, resting your chin on his chest as you grin up at him. “So what I’m hearing is... you’re scared of tiny humans.”

“Terrified,” he says, nodding solemnly. “Tiny humans are unpredictable. One minute they’re giggling at your funny faces, and the next, they’re crying because you didn’t let them eat crayons.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you tease, poking his side. “But for the record, I think you’d do just fine if we ever had another one. You’re kind, patient, and you have a way of making even the most boring things fun.”

He blinks at you, his dramatic persona melting away for a moment as he smiles softly. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest.

He sighs, his smile turning playful again. “Okay.”

“but why did we started to talk about kids all of the sudden?”

“i.. cummed inside,” you laugh, pulling him into a hug.

As he wraps his arms around you, his voice softens. “Don’t tease me! It’s serious, I don’t.. I don’t think we can be pregnant yet. Seyeon barely know that we are together.”

“Agreed,” you murmur, resting your head against his chest again. His hand resumes its lazy circles on your back, and soon, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your shared laughter and steady breathing. “And for the record, I take the pill.”

He sigh in relief, making you laugh louder.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning, and the three of you—Jisung, Seyeon, and you—are sitting in the living room. Seyeon is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a sea of coloring books and crayons, her little tongue sticking out in concentration as she carefully colors a unicorn. Jisung is on the couch, his legs stretched out lazily, while you sit beside him, close enough that your knees occasionally bump.

“Daddy,” Seyeon says, not looking up from her masterpiece, “what’s your favorite color?”

Jisung leans forward, pretending to ponder the question deeply. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. I like... whatever color y/n likes.”

You look at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up. “What?” you ask, laughing nervously. “Why?”

“Because,” he says with a playful shrug, “it’s always a safe bet to like what y/n likes. She has excellent taste.”

Seyeon looks up at him, her crayon paused mid-stroke. “What if she likes rainbow? That’s all the colors, Daddy.”

“Then I like rainbow,” Jisung declares confidently, shooting you a wink.

A few minutes later, Seyeon holds up her finished unicorn drawing, beaming with pride. “Look, Daddy! Look, y/nie!”

“Wow!” Jisung exclaims, clapping his hands dramatically. “That’s amazing, sweetheart. y/n, don’t you think Seyeon’s got the best artistic talent ever?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely. She’s a little Picasso.”

Seyeon grins, clearly pleased with the praise. Then Jisung leans down toward her, his tone suddenly conspiratorial. “You know,” he says, “Y/n has been helping you so much lately. I think she deserves a big thank-you, don’t you?”

Seyeon nods eagerly. “Thank you, y/n!”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” you say, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

Jisung isn’t done, though. “But,” he adds, his voice taking on a teasing tone, “don’t you think y/n is super nice and pretty, too? Like, the best nanny ever?”

Seyeon blinks up at him, then looks at you, her face scrunching in thought. “Yeah, y/n is really pretty. And she makes the best sandwiches. Daddy, do you like her?”

The room goes still for a moment, and you feel your face heat up. Jisung, however, takes it in stride, a sly smile spreading across his lips. “Of course I like her,” he says, leaning back casually. “She’s amazing. Don’t you think it’d be nice if she stayed with us forever?”

Seyeon tilts her head, her tiny brows furrowing. “Like... forever forever?”

Jisung nods, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Forever forever.”

You clear your throat, trying to suppress a laugh. “Okay, let’s not confuse her,” you say, shooting him a look.

Seyeon, ever the perceptive child, turns her gaze to you. “Do you want to stay forever, y/n?”

Caught off guard, you stammer, “Well, I—I mean, I really like being here with you and your daddy. But—”

“She does,” Jisung interrupts smoothly, cutting you off with a grin. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Daddy,” Seyeon says matter-of-factly, “you’re being weird.”

Jisung laughs, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Maybe. But I’m also right.”

You shake your head, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as Seyeon goes back to her coloring. Jisung catches your eye, his grin softening into something more sincere. It’s a moment that lingers just a little too long, and when you look away, you can still feel his gaze on you.

The morning slips into the soft, lazy hum of afternoon, with Seyeon bouncing between coloring, her favorite cartoons, and occasionally running to grab snacks from the kitchen. You and Jisung remain in the living room, comfortably settled on the couch, though his occasional remarks keep you on edge—playfully, of course.

As Seyeon gets engrossed in her show, Jisung leans toward you, his voice dropping low enough so only you can hear. “You know,” he starts, his tone light and teasing, “I wasn’t kidding earlier.”

You glance at him, narrowing your eyes. “About what?”

“About you staying forever.” His grin is playful, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

“Jisung,” you whisper, glancing nervously at Seyeon, who’s still focused on the TV. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he asks, leaning his chin on his hand as if you’re having the most casual conversation in the world. “It’s true. I mean, Seyeon already loves you, you make the best sandwiches, and—let’s be honest—I think I’d be a little lost without you around.”

You try to play it off, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks heat up. “You’re being dramatic again.”

“I’m not!” he protests, his voice a little louder now. Seyeon turns briefly to look at him, and he quickly softens his tone. “I’m just saying... this house feels a lot warmer when you’re in it.”

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Before you can think of something, Seyeon pipes up from her spot on the floor, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Daddy, can we have pancakes tomorrow?” she asks, twisting around to look at him.

“Of course, sweetie,” Jisung says with a bright smile. Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Maybe y/n will help me make them. Or, you know, we could have y/n  make all the pancakes forever.”

“Forever pancakes!” Seyeon cheers, throwing her hands in the air. She doesn’t fully understand what he’s implying, but she giggles anyway, clearly enjoying the idea.

Before you can respond, she climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between the two of you with all the confidence of a child who knows she’s the center of your world. She looks up at Jisung with big, curious eyes.

“Daddy, do you love y/n?”

The question hangs in the air, and you feel like your heart has stopped. Jisung, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He glances at you, a playful twinkle in his eye, before turning to his daughter.

“Of course I love y/n,” he says, his tone warm and sincere. “She’s very special to us, don’t you think?”

Seyeon nods seriously. “Yeah, she’s the best.”

Your heart melts at the sight of her little face lit up with pure affection. Jisung, ever the opportunist, takes the moment to slide an arm around both you and Seyeon, pulling you closer.

“See?” he murmurs, his voice dropping just for you. “I think it’s unanimous. You’re stuck with us.”

Seyeon claps her hands. “Y/n forever!” she declares, leaning against you with a contented sigh. Jisung winks at you over her head, and you can’t help but laugh. Maybe staying forever isn’t such a bad idea after all.

You’re folding laundry on a quiet Sunday afternoon when Jisung walks into the room, Seyeon bouncing happily on his hip. His face lights up when he sees you, and you smile back instinctively. Moments like these—the easy rhythm of life in their home—always warm your heart, even as they sometimes leave you wondering if you truly belong here in the way Jisung’s lingering glances suggest.

“Hey, y/n,” Jisung says casually, though there’s a certain energy to his tone that immediately puts you on alert. “I was thinking...”

“That’s always dangerous,” you tease, setting down the shirt you were folding.

He grins, undeterred. “Ha ha, very funny. No, seriously. We’re heading out of town for the holidays, just a little cabin getaway. Me, Seyeon... her mom.” He pauses, gauging your reaction. “And I thought it’d be really nice if you came with us.”

You freeze mid-fold, your mind racing. Did he just—?

Seyeon perks up at the mention of you. “Y/n’s coming? Yay! You’ll build snowmen with me, right?”

Your heart clenches at her excitement, but your nerves are quick to set in. “Oh, um... I don’t know,” you say hesitantly, glancing at Jisung. “I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Intrude?” Jisung repeats, laughing softly. “Y/n, you’re family. You’re basically Seyeon’s favorite person in the world—after me, of course,” he adds with a wink.

“And Mommy,” Seyeon chimes in cheerfully, her little voice oblivious to the awkward undercurrent her words create.

You force a smile, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. The idea of spending the holidays with Jisung, Seyeon, and her mother feels... complicated. What if it’s awkward? What if her mom doesn’t like the idea of you being there? What if you misread all of Jisung’s hints and you’re overstepping your place in their lives?

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you say softly, busying yourself with folding another shirt. “It sounds like a family thing. I don’t want to get in the way.”

He sets Seyeon down, and she scampers off to find her crayons. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Jisung steps closer, his expression softening. “Y/n, listen. I know it might feel... weird. But it’s not like that, I promise. Seyeon adores you, and I want you there because—well, because I want you there. You make everything better, even the holidays.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, and you look up at him, your cheeks warming. “Are you sure her mom will be okay with it? I don’t want to cause any tension.”

Jisung waves off your concern with a casual shrug. “She’s fine with it. We’ve talked about it already. Things between us are purely about co-parenting now, nothing else. She knows how important you are to Seyeon—and to me.”

Your heart skips a beat at the way he says those last words, but you still hesitate. “It’s just... a lot. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Jisung steps closer, his hand brushing yours. “Y/N,” he says softly, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re not just Seyeon’s nanny. You’re part of this family, whether you realize it or not. The holidays wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, melting away some of your anxiety. You glance toward the living room, where Seyeon is happily humming to herself as she colors. She’s so excited about the idea of you coming, and Jisung’s earnestness is hard to resist.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

Jisung’s face lights up with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “That’s my girl,” he says, squeezing your hand briefly before pulling away.

As you watch him walk back to Seyeon, your nerves remain, but they’re tempered by something else—something warmer. Maybe this holiday won’t be as daunting as you think. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll be exactly what you need to feel like you truly belong.

Oh, if only you knew how bad the things were turning to.

The cabin was quiet except for the faint crackle of the fireplace. Seyeon had just fallen asleep after an evening of snow angels and hot chocolate, and you were in your room, giving Jisung and his ex some space to talk. They hadn’t had a real conversation in a long time, and tonight seemed like the right time—at least that’s what Jisung had said.

But now, standing in the dimly lit living room, he wasn’t so sure.

“So,” she started, her arms crossed defensively as she leaned against the mantle. “What’s this really about, Jisung? You’re acting like everything’s fine, like we can play happy families for Seyeon’s sake, but we both know it’s not that simple.”

Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about playing happy families. It’s about doing what’s best for her. She deserves stability, and I thought we were finally in a place where we could at least pretend to get along.”

“Pretend,” she repeated bitterly, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. “Right. Because pretending fixes everything. Like it fixed us?”

“This isn’t about us,” Jisung snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He softened his tone, taking a step closer. “It’s about Seyeon. She’s happy. She feels safe. Isn’t that what matters?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she straightened up, her posture rigid. “Don’t act like you’re the only one thinking about her, Jisung. I’ve been doing this alone for years while you were too busy chasing your career. You’re lucky she even knows you.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and his jaw clenched. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his voice laced with hurt. “I’ve done everything I can to be here for her. I love her.”

“And yet you weren’t there when she needed you the most,” she shot back, her voice cracking. “When she had her first fever, when she started school, when she cried herself to sleep asking why Daddy wasn’t home.”

Jisung flinched, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. “I know I made mistakes. I wasn’t there as much as I should have been, and I’ll regret that forever. But I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “You think you can just walk back in and fix everything with your charm and your promises, but life doesn’t work that way. You can’t undo the past, Jisung. And you can’t expect me to forget it, either.”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice trembling with frustration. “I’m asking you to see that I’m trying. For her. For all of us.”

“All of us?” she scoffed, bitterness dripping from her words. “Let’s not pretend this is about ‘us.’ You’ve already moved on, haven’t you? Bringing her here, parading her around like she’s some kind of replacement.”

“Y/n isn’t a replacement,” Jisung said firmly, his eyes blazing. “She’s a part of Seyeon’s life, and she’s been nothing but good for her.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “But you don’t get to rewrite history, Jisung. You don’t get to act like the perfect father now and expect me to just go along with it.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Jisung looked at her, his expression a mix of anger and heartbreak.

“I’m not trying to rewrite history,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m just trying to be better. For Seyeon. If you can’t see that... then I don’t know what else to say.”

She turned away, her back to him as she stared into the flickering flames. “Maybe there’s nothing left to say,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Jisung stood there for a moment, his fists clenched at his sides, before he turned and walked away, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a storm cloud.

The air between them was thick with unresolved tension, and as he disappeared down the hallway, she didn’t call after him.

In the quiet of the cabin, the distance between them felt more insurmountable than ever.

The first couple of days passed in relative peace, but by the third morning, it was clear something was off.

It started small: Seyeon’s mother, would “accidentally” leave you out of conversations, her voice dropping to a whisper with Jisung whenever you walked into the room. She rearranged the kitchen supplies you’d neatly organized to prepare breakfast, then acted oblivious when you couldn’t find anything. Once, she even laughed and said, “Oh, you must not spend much time in kitchens,” with a pointed glance at Jisung.

You brushed it off at first. This was her time with Seyeon, too, and you didn’t want to stir up unnecessary drama. But her passive-aggressive behavior only escalated.

When you offered to take Seyeon sledding, she suddenly announced that they’d already planned to go without you. You stayed behind, feeling awkward and unsure of your place. When they returned, her mother made a point of loudly recounting how much fun they’d had, conveniently forgetting to include Jisung’s praise about how Seyeon wouldn’t stop asking for you while they were out.

At dinner one evening, she served everyone but you. When you politely got up to grab your own plate, she laughed. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize you were joining us for every meal.”

You bit your tongue, plastering on a smile. “I didn’t mean to impose.”

Jisung, oblivious, simply passed you the serving spoon with a wink. “Y/n’s practically family,” he said, not noticing the way her jaw tightened.

That night, as you tucked Seyeon into bed, she wrapped her little arms around your neck and whispered, “Mommy says you’re just visiting. But I want you to stay forever.”

Her words made your heart ache, but you only smiled, brushing her hair back gently. “I’ll always be here for you, sweetie.”

The next morning, the mother pulled out all the stops. She insisted on decorating Christmas cookies with Seyeon, making a big show of asking Jisung for help. “It’s our little family tradition,” she said sweetly, her eyes flicking to you as she emphasized the word family.

You excused yourself, claiming you needed to catch up on reading. But as you sat on the couch with an open book in your lap, you couldn’t concentrate. You could hear their laughter from the kitchen, and every time her voice rang out, you felt smaller and smaller.

Jisung seemed none the wiser, though you couldn’t blame him. she moves were subtle, designed to push you out of the picture without outright confrontation. And you didn’t want to ruin the holidays for him or Seyeon by bringing it up.

But by the time Christmas Eve rolled around, your patience was wearing thin. You were helping Jisung set the table for dinner when she walked in, holding a tray of desserts she’d made with Seyeon.

“Oh, Jisung,” she said in a syrupy tone, “remember the first Christmas we spent together? You couldn’t stop eating my cookies.”

Jisung chuckled, not catching the tension in the room. “Yeah, you always did make great cookies.”

She smirked, turning to you. “Did you try baking with Seyeon yet? It’s a bit of a skill, you know.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Jisung beat you to it. “Y/n’s amazing with Seyeon,” he said, smiling warmly. “She doesn’t need to bake to prove that.”

For the first time, his ex faltered, her expression slipping before she covered it with a tight smile. “Of course,” she said, turning back to the tray.

But as the evening wore on, her petty jabs continued, each one chipping away at your resolve. You kept your head high, smiling and nodding through it all, but when the night ended and you finally retreated to your room, you felt exhausted.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling with the weight of it all. You wanted to tell Jisung—desperately—but the thought of burdening him during the holidays, or worse, causing tension between him and her, kept you silent.

Christmas morning dawned bright and snowy, the cabin blanketed in a pristine layer of white. You could hear Seyeon’s excited voice echoing through the halls as she begged Jisung to wake up and open presents. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and despite the tension brewing under the surface, you pulled yourself out of bed and resolved to make the day as joyful as possible for her.

By the time you made it to the living room, the mother was already there, sitting cross-legged by the tree and sipping her coffee. Her gaze flicked to you briefly before she turned her attention back to Seyeon, who was bouncing on Jisung’s lap.

“Good morning,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.

The older girl raised her mug in response but didn’t say anything. Jisung, oblivious to the exchange, grinned at you. “Morning, sleepyhead. Coffee’s in the kitchen.”

You nodded and slipped into the kitchen to pour yourself a cup. When you returned, Seyeon was already tearing into the first of her presents, her delighted squeals filling the room. You took a seat on the couch, watching her with a warm smile as Jisung handed her another brightly wrapped package.

“This one’s from y/n,” he said, holding the gift out to her.

Seyeon’s eyes lit up, and she practically lunged for it. “From y/n?” she asked, tearing into the wrapping paper. “Yay!”

As she pulled out the set of art supplies you’d chosen for her, her face lit up with pure joy. “Thank you, y/n!” she cried, running over to throw her arms around you.

You hugged her tightly, your heart swelling. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I hope you make lots of beautiful pictures with them.”

“Of course I will!” she said, running back to show Jisung and her mother her new treasures.

Jisung’s ex smile was tight, but she said nothing, instead turning her attention to the next present.

As the morning went on, the tension simmered just beneath the surface. Her comments were subtle but pointed, from joking about Jisung’s taste in gifts to making unnecessary remarks about your relationship with Seyeon.

When you offered to help clean up the wrapping paper, she waved you off with an overly sweet smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it, y/n. I’m sure you’re used to tidying up after Seyeon, but this is a family tradition.”

You swallowed the retort rising in your throat and busied yourself picking up stray ribbons instead. Jisung was too preoccupied with helping Seyeon assemble a toy to notice the slight, and you decided not to draw attention to it.

Later, during lunch, his ex decided to needle further.

“So, y/n,” she began, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “What are your plans for the new year? I imagine you’ll be looking for other opportunities soon, right?”

Jisung frowned, looking up from his plate. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said with a shrug, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s just that being a nanny isn’t exactly a long-term career, is it? How long is that girl working for you now? 9, 10 months?”

You felt your cheeks flush, and you opened your mouth to respond, but Jisung beat you to it.

“Y/n’s not just Seyeon’s nanny,” he said firmly, his tone laced with irritation. “She’s part of this family. And she’s not going anywhere.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Of course not,” she said smoothly, though her eyes betrayed her displeasure.

You busied yourself with your food, your appetite gone. Jisung’s words were kind, but they only seemed to add fuel to Mirae’s passive-aggressive fire.

By the time the day wound down, you were emotionally drained. Seyeon had fallen asleep on the couch, clutching one of her new toys, and Jisung had carried her off to bed. Mirae was sitting by the fire, scrolling through her phone, when you finally decided to head to your room.

As you passed her, she spoke without looking up. “You know,” she said, her tone casual, “Jisung’s always been good at seeing the best in people. But that doesn’t mean everyone belongs in his life forever.”

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, you considered responding, but you quickly decided against it. Instead, you turned and walked away, her words echoing in your mind.

Lying in bed that night, you stared at the ceiling, your heart heavy. No matter how much Jisung reassured you, her actions had a way of making you feel like an outsider. And while you didn’t want to let her win, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she was right—maybe you didn’t belong here after all.

The days after Christmas continued to weigh heavily on you. You kept your distance from her, as much for your own sanity as to avoid any further confrontations. But the further away you emotionally distanced yourself from her, the more distant you became from Jisung too.

You saw the way he looked at you, the concerned glances he gave when you withdrew into yourself during meals or stayed behind while he and Seyeon went outside to play in the snow. He was starting to notice the quietness, the way you didn’t laugh as easily anymore, how you seemed to put distance between yourself and everything they shared.

“Hey,” Jisung said softly one evening, after Seyeon had gone to bed. You were sitting by the window, watching the snow fall in silence. He sat down beside you, his hand gently brushing yours. “What’s going on with you?”

You looked away, your fingers tightening around the edge of your sweater. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. “baby, come on. You’ve been like this all week. I know something’s bothering you.”

You let out a breath, your gaze fixed on the snow falling in the distance. “It’s just... Seyeon’s mother.”

Jisung sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I should’ve known. I told you, I’ll handle her. You don’t have to deal with her alone.”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just her. She’s been trying to make me feel like an outsider. And it’s working.”

Jisung’s expression softened, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “She doesn’t get to dictate how we feel, love. You’re important to us. To Seyeon and me.”

“I know that,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But it doesn’t feel that way when she keeps pushing me away.”

“I see it too,” he admitted, his hand squeezing yours gently. “She’s been petty, and it’s not right. But you can’t let her win by pulling away from me too.”

You glanced at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “But I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me.”

He let out a breath, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re not pretending. I can see it. And it hurts me too.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Jisung said firmly. “But you can’t shut me out. Not when I’m trying to make things better for you.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest. “That no matter how much you try, it won’t ever be enough.”

Jisung cupped your face in his hands, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “Then let me try harder. Please angel.”

The sincerity in his voice broke something inside you, and you finally let the tears fall, your body trembling against his embrace. “I want to trust you,” you said, your voice a whisper. “But she makes it so hard.”

He held you tighter, his warmth enveloping you in a cocoon of love and comfort. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered against your hair. “I promise.”

The next morning, the cabin was quiet. Seyeon and her mother had gone for an early walk through the snowy woods, leaving the house blissfully empty. Jisung had spent the night thinking about how to make things right, how to remind you that he cared—truly cared—and that nothing his ex said could take that away.

When he found you sitting by the window, staring out into the snowy landscape with a distant look in your eyes, he knew it was time.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently nudging your shoulder. “What do you say we spend the day together? Just us.”

You glanced at him, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Just us?”

“Just us,” he confirmed, his eyes sincere. “Seyeon and her mom are out all day. It’ll just be you and me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the quiet tension in the air between you making it hard to let go of your worries. But then his hand reached for yours, steady and warm, and you felt your resolve soften.

“I’d like that,” you said softly.

The day was crisp and clear, the snow untouched, and the silence between you and Jisung was comfortable. You walked hand in hand through the frosted woods, your breath forming tiny clouds in the cold air.

“You don’t have to worry about her you know,” Jisung said quietly, breaking the silence. “Not today. Today is just about us.”

You nodded, letting his words settle into your heart. “It’s hard, though. Hard not to think about everything.”

“I know,” he murmured, pulling you a little closer. “But we don’t have to carry that weight right now. Let’s just be us.”

You both kept walking, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound between you. The crisp air stung your cheeks, but Jisung’s warmth radiating from his coat and his hand in yours made you feel grounded.

After a while, he stopped walking, tugging you gently to a nearby bench tucked between the trees. You sat down together, the snow falling softly around you.

“This is nice,” you said, leaning into him slightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, brushing a snowflake from your hair. “It’s perfect.”

For a while, you just sat in comfortable silence, the world around you feeling far away. Eventually, Jisung broke the quiet with a soft, playful nudge.

“So, what do you want to do next?” he asked with a smile, his voice teasing. “Snowball fight? Sledding?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not going to win a snowball fight, Jisung.”

“Oh, you don’t know that,” he said with mock confidence. “I was a champion in school.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving his shoulder. “You’re delusional.”

He laughed, his entire face lighting up. “Okay, fine. We’ll skip the snowball fight. But you owe me something fun.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at how easy it felt to be with him, to simply enjoy each other’s company. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“And you’re lucky you’re stuck with me,” he teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

Jisung held you close, his arm draped comfortably around you, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, knowing that even if the world around you wasn’t perfect, this— him—was.

He drags you in the deep woods, making you giggle with a confused expression, “What are we doing now?”

Jisung’s smirk grows bigger when he grabs your waist gently, pushing you gently against a tree, his lips meeting yours. The sudden touch of his cold hands for the snow makes your skin tingle under his touch, “u-um..”

You don’t realise how much you missed your boyfriend’s attention until you are under him, in bed in the empty cabin in his room, with his head between your thighs. 

He sucks hard on your nub, feeling your writhe beneath him.

Jisung moans into your pussy as you pulls him closer, your taste filling his senses. He licks and sucks at your folds, his tongue delving deep inside your tight heat. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread open for his mouth.

His tongue flicks against your swollen bud, his fingers slipping inside you to curl up and stroke that spot that drives you wild.  “Mmm, you taste amazing baby...”

Jisung's skilled tongue explores every inch of your glistening folds, lapping at your sweet nectar like a man starved. He focuses on your sensitive bud, flicking and circling it rapidly before sucking it between his lips.

“i-i’m so close...” You gasp as you cover your mouth with your hand, your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Feeling your walls starting to flutter around his fingers, Jisung doubles his efforts. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, his tongue vibrating against the sensitive nub as he pumps two fingers deep inside your, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

It doesn’t take you long after to cum, his tongue happy to clean you, his eyes meeting yours after that—it was the best head someone gave to you. He stands up between your thighs, looking down to your happy and now relaxed figure, “that’s my girl, all happy and smily.”

A few months had passed since that quiet trip, and life had settled back into its routine. Seyeon had grown closer to you, her attachment deepening as you spent more time with her, nurturing her and becoming a significant part of her life. The bond between the three of you felt natural, but you knew it wasn’t sustainable to keep your relationship with Jisung a secret from her forever.

One evening, after tucking Seyeon into bed, you found Jisung sitting by the fire with a tired smile on his face. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over him. You approached slowly, sitting down beside him with a soft sigh.

“I think it’s time,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Jisung’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a question. “Time for what?”

“For Seyeon to know about us,” you continued quietly. “About us as more than just... you know, me being her nanny.”

He inhaled deeply, considering your words. “You think she’s ready?”

You nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I do. She talks about you all the time. She knows you’re important to me, but I think it’s time she understands what that means. Fully.”

Jisung reached for your hand, threading his fingers gently with yours. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “It’s not just about us. It’s about Seyeon feeling secure and knowing that you love her, and that we love her together.”

He smiled softly, leaning in just slightly. “You’re right. She deserves to know. And I don’t want her to feel confused about what we mean to each other.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, squeezing his hand again. “We’ve built something special with her, and I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Jisung leaned back into his chair, his gaze thoughtful as he considered your words. “It might be a bit overwhelming at first,” he admitted. “But I trust you. We’ll figure it out together.”

You smiled softly, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “I just want her to know that it’s okay to love both of us.”

He gave you a tender look, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “She’ll understand. You’ve been there for her in a way that goes beyond what anyone else could. And I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be by her side.”

The warmth of his words settled into your heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt peace.

“We’ll tell her soon,” you said quietly, feeling a new sense of certainty. “Maybe even tomorrow.”

Jisung nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Tomorrow it is.”

The next day, after breakfast, you and Jisung sat down with Seyeon in the living room. She was playing with her dolls on the carpet, her little giggles filling the space. You and Jisung exchanged a glance, both of you ready for the conversation that was about to change things.

“Seyeon,” Jisung began softly, settling beside her on the floor, “there’s something important we want to talk to you about.”

Seyeon paused, looking up at both of you with wide, curious eyes. “What is it, Daddy?”

You sat down next to Jisung, a gentle smile on your face. “Well, Seyeon, you know y/n, right?”

She nodded eagerly, her small hands clutching a doll close to her chest. “Yeah! y/n takes care of me and plays with me. I love her.”

Jisung smiled warmly. “We love you too, sweetheart. But there’s something else you should know. Y/n isn’t just here to take care of you. She’s a very important person in our lives. She’s someone we care about a lot, someone who loves us just like we love her.”

Seyeon blinked up at him, her little brows furrowing. “So… y/n is more than just my friend?”

You nodded. “That’s right. Jisung and I, we’re all like a family. And we want you to know that it’s okay to love all of us, even if it’s a little different from what you’re used to.”

The room grew quiet for a moment as Seyeon absorbed what you were saying. She stared at you both, her expression thoughtful, before breaking into a small smile. “I already love both of you. So, that’s okay, right?”

Jisung and you exchanged relieved glances, sharing a quiet laugh. “Yes, sweetheart,” Jisung said softly. “That’s more than okay.”

Seyeon clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “Then I don’t have to worry! I’m happy. I like having both of you.”

You and Jisung embraced her in a hug, the three of you tangled together in the warmth of love. “We’re happy too, Seyeon,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion.

Later that evening, Jisung held you close on the couch, Seyeon nestled between you both as a Disney movie played quietly in the background. She giggled at a funny scene, her little fingers clutching the popcorn bowl, as Jisung’s arm tightened around your shoulders.

“I thought she might not understand,” you admitted softly, feeling Jisung’s warmth seep into your bones.

“She’s smart,” Jisung replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And you made it easy for her. She loves you more than you know.”

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “She loves both of us.”

“And that’s perfect,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

For the first time, the weight of uncertainty seemed to lift. Together, you and Jisung had built a family—one that was unique, imperfect, but full of love and understanding. And that was all that mattered.

The sun set gently over the quiet cabin, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room, its warmth spreading through the space as you sat together with Jisung and Seyeon. She sat between you both, her small hands clasped tightly as she listened to a bedtime story Jisung was reading.

“And then, the prince and princess lived happily ever after,” Jisung finished, his voice smooth and comforting. He closed the book gently and kissed Seyeon’s forehead.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Seyeon whispered sleepily, her eyelids fluttering closed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Jisung murmured, tucking a blanket around her.

You watched quietly, a soft smile on your face as you ran your fingers through Seyeon’s hair. She was fast asleep in no time, her little breaths steady and peaceful. Jisung carefully carried her to her bed, placing her down gently and pulling the covers up to her chin.

Once she was tucked in, he returned to you, sitting beside you on the couch with a sigh of contentment. You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as the fire continued to burn warmly in the hearth.

“I think she finally understands,” Jisung said softly, his voice low and affectionate.

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Yeah, she does. She loves us both so easily.”

“She’s lucky,” he said quietly, his arm wrapping around you. “Having two people who care about her like this. You’ve been amazing with her, baby.”

You gave him a small laugh. “Well, she makes it easy. How could I not love her?”

“She’s lucky,” he repeated, pulling you closer. “But so am I.”

The room settled into a peaceful stillness. Outside, the snow continued to fall gently, blanketing the world in white. Inside, it was warm and cozy, the only sounds being the crackling fire and the soft hum of your shared presence.

You and Jisung sat in comfortable silence, lost in the little moments of your own little family. This, right here—this calm, this love—was enough.

No matter what came next, you knew you had each other. And that was everything.

@chancloud8 @hanji-coffee .

[nariism]

wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin

soulmates (name au) + "i'm done waiting."

synopsis. itoshi rin meets you under a sky full of fireworks. he spends the next 6 years of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn't love you. you spend the next 6 years giving him every reason why he should.

wc. 12.4k (i need to close my eyes and sleep for a while)

notes. huge thank you to ellie (@hyomagiri) and mari (@saetoshi) for helping me with this 🥹 this fic actually put me through it and i'm so grateful to both of them for their support 💗

— for my beloved @ode2rin 💐 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2024

Every year on the seventh day of the seventh month, Itoshi Rin finds himself standing at the daunting entrance to his local shrine.

The tradition is completely beneath him—something childish that he grumbles about under his breath despite letting you drag him all the way out here with soft eyes watching your smile.

Tanabata is the festival of stars. Of love.

It is a story his mother used to whisper to him as they watched the night sky in awe, pretending that the galaxy was collapsing in on itself to allow for a romantic midnight rendezvous between two lovers.

It’s something far too sappy for his liking.

But the food is okay, he supposes, and it’s a good opportunity to get out of the house and spend time with you which he seldom has time to do now that he’s back in his training season.

There were too many things about it that he loathed: the screaming children that would bump into his legs; the way his ears would stay ringing for days after the festival ended; how you could always convince him to come as if you were some sort of hypnotic devil in disguise, and how thoroughly wounded his pride would be at that fact.

However, his least favourite part of the festival by far is writing down his wish for the year on a scrap piece of paper and hanging it around a bamboo tree. One, because he can never for the life of him think of anything meaningful to wish for. And two, because he isn’t sure he even believes in that sort of thing.

Rin is struggling again this year, pencil lightly scratching his temple as he thinks.

He’s painfully aware that he’s never put so much thought into this before, but you seemed so excited to come all the way here before heading to the festivities that he couldn’t possibly let you down.

His wish dawns on him then, something he wants to do before the next time he makes the climb all the way back up here 365 days from now.

“Hey,” your voice calls out quietly. “What did you wish for?”

“What did you wish for?” Rin quickly refutes.

You cast your narrowed eyes from the side, tilting your little slip of yellow paper away from him.

“Only if I get to see yours first.”

Normally, he would give in to you right away. His resolve when it comes to you is embarrassingly weak. But there’s no way for him to explain himself. No way he could show you the words he’s written lest he hurt his ego.

He stubbornly folds up the piece of paper and shoves your face away. All you do is laugh and he feels terribly warm.

“No peeking,” he tells you when you kiss across his fingertips.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2018

A name appeared for Itoshi Rin when he turned thirteen years old.

He remembers the day well—it was hard to forget, anyway. As much as he wanted to focus on the burning of the name etching its way down his skin, he couldn’t. Not when he was blinking snow out of his lashes and watching his brother’s retreating back.

Rin likes to think that the universe fucks with him in any way that it can.

Maybe he had done something terrible in his past life and this was its karmic retribution, or maybe he was just unlucky.

What he does know is this: the name on his pinky only reminds him of all the things he ever lost.

Every syllable struck needles into his heart—a painful memory of crawling after the tracks of the wheels Sae left behind with his luggage until gravel and ice were stuck under his nails. Or worse, the clawing of his throat as they sat across from each other at dinner—the way he didn't even smile when Rin announced to his parents that his soulmate mark had appeared while his mother cried out in joy.

In fact, Sae didn’t talk to him for the rest of his visit. He remembers that hurt the most.

The name had haunted him for all the remaining years of his life—a forced memory that he wished he could forget. There came with it a feeling of loneliness that crushed him despite the proof on his pinky that there was another soul wandering the earth that would fix him.

He refused to believe it.

Only revenge would fix him. Only proving himself better would heal the cracks in his heart. Only beating Sae. Sae, Sae, Sae. His brother’s name had been repeated so many times that it was easy to ignore the other burning his skin.

In all those years he found it easy to cast aside his soulmate. To ignore it even if it hurt.

So he wonders why it’s so bad tonight.

He’s done everything he could think of: slathering cooling ointment down his finger to stop the searing, wrapping it in a cast to prevent himself from admiring it for too long, even tying a wish to a piece of bamboo hoping it would disappear.

A finger snaps in front of his face, drawing his attention to his teammates in front of him. Both look equally amused.

“You’re dreaming,” Isagi muses. “You’ve been spacing out all night. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Rin mutters, swatting his teammate’s hand away from him. He had been staring again, longingly eyeing the way the letters danced down his skin. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“None of your business.”

“Yeesh, it’s not good to keep things bottled up, you know?”

“You’re annoying,” Rin glowers before it melts back into indifference. “I’m fine,” he reiterates.

Isagi seems unconvinced, as he usually is when Rin is being mysteriously vague about what’s on his mind. He and Bachira share a tentative glance before sighing and shaking their heads.

“Well… okay,” he finally yields. “We’re going to get some snacks before the fireworks start. If you’re going to sulk then at least stay put and do it here so we can find you again.”

“Yeah,” Rin grumbles, already making an escape plan. “Whatever. Will do.”

As soon as the boys are out of sight, he turns heel and hurries away. The crowd is driving him crazy and he needs somewhere quiet so he can stare at his hands until his eyes are dry.

He comes to a pond situated just outside of the festival grounds, deep water glimmering under the moon and the passing lanterns.

Plopping down on the bench, he hunches over onto his knees with his elbows and takes a deep breath. It instead comes shallow, as if someone has just punched him in the gut. 

It’s then that he realizes he’s not alone.

Your yukata is muddy, fabric soaked and dripping at the sleeves though you don’t seem to care or even notice. You look frustrated for some reason, lip curled into a concentrated frown while you plunge your hands into the mud around the edge of the water.

Away from the crowds of people, he can hear the summer song of cicadas chirping all around. Your hands dip in and out of the water, quiet splashes filling the rest of the silence on top of the distant buzz of children laughing.

It’s just you and him. Something primal inside of him rages, pounding against his chest until it feels like he’s suffocating.

Run. Run. Run.

His legs jerk, urging him to stand up and leave, but he feels glued down to the bench—tethered where he sits and forced to watch you repeatedly sink your hands into the muddy waters.

No more than five minutes must pass as you both ignore each other, yet it feels like an eternity stretches by. 

Finally, you pipe up.

“You’re scaring them,” you tell him plainly.

His head whips in your direction at your voice, soft and careful. His teal eyes narrow at you. “Huh?”

Your frown deepens, turning to look at him with your hands still submerged. “The frogs.”

“Come again?”

“Your vibes. It’s scaring the frogs away.”

His eye twitches.

“Ever consider that you’re just dogshit at catching them?”

“Excuse me?”

“And look at you, making a total mess of yourself. Don’t you care that you have to go home looking like that?” He presses, leering at you like an insect he’s about to crush under his heel. You simply stare at him, expression blank.

Huffing, you tear away from him and sink your hands beneath the mud. “No. I don’t.”

He watches in silence as you sift around for a moment before pulling your hands up, a smile slowly morphing into your face.

“I got one…” You breathe, looking more elated than he thinks you should. “I really caught one.”

“First time?” He quips sarcastically. A part of him wonders why he hasn’t gotten up and left you altogether yet.

“Cut me some slack,” you complain, eyeing him from the side again. You gently run a finger along the back of the frog, trying not to scare it away. “I haven’t done this in forever.”

“Clearly.”

You snort. “Yeah. Clearly.”

Rin looks at you quizzically, puzzled at your sudden change in demeanor. You seem… softer. Less agitated, at the very least. You’re gazing at the frog adoringly, as if it had somehow solved all of your problems and was dragging you into another world.

Any retort he had ready to shoot at you dies in his mouth. The anger rising in his chest extinguishes in the blink of an eye, and a deep hush settles over you as he watches in curiosity.

For a moment, the universe goes quiet. He’s gotten so used to having everything on his mind all at once that the silence is almost unnerving.

He once believed that his world would end with an injury that never healed quite right, or when he was too old for any team to want him.

He once believed that his world would end when he could no longer imagine the feel of a ball between his palms.

He once believed that his world would end the day he couldn’t play football anymore—that the only thing that would ever kill him was if the chance of standing alongside his brother died with him.

But he was wrong.

Itoshi Rin’s world ends with the bellow of a firework.

In a few years, he would think of this stretch of a few seconds fondly. He would squeeze you a little tighter with his chin resting on your shoulder, staring up at a colourful sky. He would think it was poetic, in a way, that you were the one who painted his world in the same hues of shimmering gold.

Rin remembers, though, that only one thought had crossed his mind.

I’m so screwed.

He can see every fine detail of your face, illuminated in all the colours of the rainbow. And he can’t help but think you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He can trace each intricate curve of your nose to your chin to the surprised parting of your lips; the way your lashes flutter as you blink rapidly, tensed from the sudden explosion.

The light fades faster than it appeared, yet it feels like a millennium has passed. The reverbing echo of the firework crackles across the sky, thundering in his ears so loud that he can feel it pounding in his chest.

(Or is that his heart? He can’t tell. He feels dizzy.)

Darkness envelops your bodies again, save for the dim glow of distant lanterns. Every part of you is seared into his memory, a floating image when he blinks.

The frog leaps from your hands back into the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind.

You stay there with your hands outstretched, looking lonely under the dark sky. Another one goes off above your heads, signalling the start of the display.

“There you are, Rin!” Bachira and Isagi come rushing over from the path, excited smiles and mirth bubbling in their laughs as they approach. “We thought you went home without us already!”

Rin slowly blinks out of his reverie. For a second, he glances in your direction again just to catch your eyes. 

“I almost did,” he grumbles, forcing himself not to stare.

“Fireworks are starting!” Isagi yanks Rin to his feet and begins dragging him away before he can even protest.

Without turning around, he can feel the weight of your eyes in the back of his head. There’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest, and the name etched down his pinky burns infinitely hot.

Later at home, he stares at the spot where Sae used to sit back when he still came to Japan for anything other than to take a new passport photo.

“My soulmate’s name showed up,” he had mumbled that night to break the tense silence. It was strange that he still felt like he owed his brother that much—to make his visit as normal as possible despite having his heart carved open.

Sae only looked at him blankly, spoon halting just above his bowl. He was eerily still, quietly deciding how to react. Then,

“Good for you,” he said. And nothing more.

Rin squeezes his eyes shut and he feels warmth rolling down his cheeks. He quickly wipes the tears away, pretending as if they never existed.

He spends the rest of the night trying to forget your face.

(And the next year trying to recreate it in his dreams.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2019

Rin makes it another 275 days before he finally remembers every piece of the puzzle that is your existence.

He saw you in his sleep. The back of your head, anyway.

You were sitting in his favourite café, at the table he claimed for himself right by the window. You ordered a coffee but let it sit for so long that the ice melted. Then, you wiped up the condensation rolling down the frosty glass with your finger.

Rin watched you from afar, observing you the way he wished he did last summer.

Maybe then he could have dived deep into the recesses of his brain to remember why exactly you struck him so. But there he was, stuck watching the back of your head as you gazed out the window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your fingers drummed mindlessly against the wooden table, reciting a rhythm just slightly louder than the pounding of his own heart. 

“Can you leave me alone?” He finally called out, hoping it would stop your incessant beating.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You’re annoying me,” he hissed. Annoying for disturbing his peace and quiet. Annoying for plaguing his dreams even after all these days.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Seriously,” he grunted, standing up from his seat so fast that the chair scraped horribly against the wooden floor. Still, you didn’t pay him any mind, instead more interested in the faceless people walking by. “Knock it off!”

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

He bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation, the itch in the back of his mind ever present. “What’s your name?”

Silence.

You finally turned his way. Slowly. Agonizingly slow.  And Rin was right—you were still so beautiful, 275 days later.

Grinning at him big and bright, you almost seemed to collapse in on yourself with joy. Like a star about to implode, or maybe more akin to a firework.

Either way, his breath was stolen from him.

You silently mouthed your name, making sure he saw every vowel and accentuated syllable. Warmth flooded him in every way—probably brought on by the racing of his heart.

It was impossible that his soulmate was someone like this. Someone whose smile looked like it could heal even the deepest wounds.

You grabbed his attention again with a big wave of the arms, and he watched in anticipation.

“You’re—”

Rin followed your mouth as you sounded out the words without a voice.

“—smiling!”

He reached up to run his fingers along his bottom lip. And you were right, he realized, as he traced it midway up his cheek.

(When did he start smiling?)

(Why?)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rin thinks about you just as much in the waking world as he does in his dreams.

It’s spring, though snow is still settled over the eaves of homes that he passes on the way to the grocery store. Apparently the winter cold is supposed to be especially long and bitter this year, permeating until mid-May.

He stares at his feet as they mark the virgin snow, decorating his sneakers white and making his feet cold.

Did you walk through the same snow this morning?

Then, when he’s going through the motion of smelling the bottom of pineapples at the store:

Do you like pineapple? What if you’re allergic?

(He shakes his head and puts them away. He suddenly isn’t craving it.)

His obsession with you has only intensified as the year has gone on. If you ever peered into his mind, he would receive a well-deserved slap across the face.

The soulmate mark engraved down his pinky has never bothered him so badly.

It’s like you’re constantly with him—a ghost haunting him, or perhaps more like a curse. Thinking about you takes up unnecessary space in his head. Space that should be dedicated to football, and football only.

He's about to go home so he can make a list outlining the ways he can forget about you.

(Ironic, he knows, but in all honesty he already exhausted all of his options from his first list.)

But then he comes to a stop outside of his favourite café. It looks the same, even has the same advertisements plastered in the window as the last time he was here.

He hesitates at the door, but when he walks in it smells the same. It's decorated the same. Not a single table is out of place.

He walks up to his regular spot, runs his fingers along the wood where he remembers you tapping in his dream.

There's no sign of your existence here.

Rin shakes his head in annoyance, cursing himself out in his head because he was stupid enough to think he would run into you here.

Then disappointment floods his body, like a dam had been released in his chest and it's flowing unstoppably to every piece of him.

(Wait, why is he disappointed? He really needs to take a nap.)

He runs his hand through his hair as a nervous reflex, simultaneously relieved and irritated that you're nowhere to be seen.

It takes him a minute to recollect himself, to realize that he probably looks like a crazy person just standing beside an empty table like a lost child who doesn't know where to go, and decides to just go home.

He pulls into the line to get a drink for his walk home when—

"Thanks!"

His heart drops.

You waltz out of the back, tying your apron around your waist as you exchange spots in the break room with one of your coworkers.

Rin is about to die, seriously. You must be new here, since he's been to this café more times than he can count and he's never seen you before. Or was it that he was specifically looking out for you this time?

Whatever the reason, he's dumbfounded.

“Hey,” your acknowledgment makes him freeze in his spot. “Frog guy?”

He looks at you stupidly, rubbing his eyes like a cartoon character as if he’s imagining you standing right in front of him.

His gaze drifts down to your name tag, fresh and newly printed with white marker. Signed at the end is a little flower, petals swirled into tiny hearts.

Your existence before him is undeniable.

"Um. Yeah," he sputters in disbelief.

"I..." You clear your throat, looking as bewildered as he feels. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

'You're my soulmate. Of course we'd run into each other,' he thinks to himself. Out loud, though:

"Yeah. Me neither."

The person behind him in line coughs quietly, impatiently tapping their foot. Rin takes the hint and quietly tells you what he wants. You lean in across the counter to hear him better, and his face grows warm.

Once you fill in the boxes on the cup, you place it down and move it to the side for someone to fill. It catches his eye immediately.

Itoshi Rin is scribbled neatly down the side of his cup.

“How did you...?”

You awkwardly shift in your spot, evidently embarrassed as you fiddle with the strings of your apron. Then, with your own hands.

“W-Well…”

His eyes dare to drop down to where your thumb is nervously slathering up and down the name on your pinky.

“Oh.”

"Sorry, I just figured—"

"It's fine," he interrupts. Your mouth snaps shut.

Tense silence stretches thin in the air, ready to shatter at any moment. But for some reason, he feels as though he's choking on nothing.

You fumble over the emptiness, quickly snatching up the cup to make his drink yourself after deciding it's too awkward to just stand there.

He watches you in a daze, half shaken and half in awe. Never in a million years would he have thought a dream would lead him back to you.

When you turn back around with a full cup, you look equally stunned. 

“Itoshi—”

“Rin. It’s just Rin.”

You look at him in surprise, lashes fluttering rapidly as you let it sink in.

It's not your fault. You don't know that it's a sore spot that he just so happens to share the same last name with the person he despises most in the world.

It's not your fault that he has a quick temper and his voice raises slightly, enough to make you flinch back just a tiny bit.

And it's definitely not your fault that it stings so much—that he had expected you to speak to him as if you'd already known him for a lifetime and not as if you were just two strangers looking at each other from across a bar counter.

“O-Okay," you take a deep breath, cheeks puffed out and expression unreadable.

You slide the cup across the counter and he catches it in his hand.

He debates whether or not he should say more, like apologize for snapping at you. But then someone calls you by your name, and the way it rolls so beautifully off their tongue catches him off guard.

"Sorry. See you, Rin," you smile sweetly. Maybe a little awkwardly, a small step toward the one he dreamed about. And his heart is set in motion.

Rin decides that today won't be the day.

Another day, he'll be brave enough to crack a joke so dry that you try and scrub his name off your skin. And another day, he will ask for your number because, yeah, you might be the most alluring person he's ever met.

As he turns to take his leave after just staring at the spot you were standing in for a solid few seconds, he can hear some of the other baristas clamouring for you.

He doesn't want to look. Really, honestly, he doesn't. 

But he does anyway.

It's just a quick glance over his shoulder—nothing more than a fleeting moment as he takes the chance to look at you one more time.

Those two seconds is all it takes for him to realize just how much trouble he's in.

You're laughing big and toothy, waving your hand in front of your face dismissively as your coworkers poke fun at how flustered you are. Then your hands are clasped over your stomach and you've doubled down a little in your awkward fit.

His heart has never beat so loud in his own ears.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Itoshi Rin used to smile just for the sake of smiling, once upon a time.

He had aunties who would pinch him by the cheek and fawn over him, cooing about how he looked just like his mother. How his face would cherub and the apples of his cheeks were bright red. Even when he grew out of his baby face, people would tell him how wonderful his smile was.

Sae rarely ever smiled, so it was something exclusive. He never felt like he was standing in his shadow. It was special—the kind of praise only one Itoshi would know.

Rin has forgotten how to smile like that.

He smiles to be polite to his family, if ever. Even then, it's not like he owes them that much. At some point, it became too much effort. And he had no reason to do it.

It was always a tiny thought bothering him in the back of his mind:

I'll never meet my soulmate if I'm always scowling like this.

He thought that was what he wanted, anyway. He wouldn't need to worry about running into his soulmate if no one ever looked his way. If everyone feared him enough not to spare him a second glance.

He doubts everything he ever thought as he sits on the edge of his bed staring at his desk.

It's lit up by a single lamp, shining down on his empty coffee cup like a spotlight opened up by the heavens themselves.

Your phone number is written just below his name.

Rin had almost tossed it into the trash without a second thought earlier in the day. He would have, if it weren't for the loose dog that blitzed by him and made him drop it.

Fate just loves to mess with him.

He picked it up and his thumb had stopped over the number. It was written so small, as if you had wanted him to miss it. Or perhaps you wanted to test destiny yourself—to see if the planets would align and he would discover your seven digits there for him to find.

And now he's home. He's been home, just looking. Contemplating. Stressing.

He migrates from the edge of the bed and settles into his desk chair. Then he gets up, moves back to the bed, and flops down. An endless cycle, back and forth, pushing and pulling.

Rin plops down onto his desk seat and sighs in frustration, ruffling his hair around before his forehead slams into the table.

Every part of his mind screams at him to stop. To toss the cup away and forget today ever happened. His head raises from his arms and he stares at the set of numbers illuminated on the paper, taunting him. 

Finally, he exhales through his nose, sitting up straight and reaching for the cup to toss. His fingers delicately brush along your phone number.

“So dumb…” He huffs, eventually finding his phone instead and opening his contacts.

It’s nearly midnight. He tries to imagine your face as you wait by your phone for a message from him, that stupidly hopeful glimmer in your eyes, and he feels sick to his stomach as he sends it.

Rin: hey. it’s rin.

He throws his phone down on the desk again, screen down so he can’t cringe at himself. A few minutes pass in complete silence as he sulks.

He considers that you may have gone to bed already, or you were offended by the fact that he ignored your offer to connect all day and instantly blocked him. Maybe you thought he never saw your number at all.

Then his phone buzzes. His body moves on autopilot, snatching it up faster than he can realize what he’s doing. He’s halfway through the embarrassing thought that he just immediately read your message after you sent it as your text sinks in.

Unknown: hi! it’s great to hear from you ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ

Unknown: i was starting to think you were never gonna text lol

Rin: i wasn’t

He chews his lip for a moment before quickly following up:

Rin: but i changed my mind. just cause.

Unknown: hahaha got it got it. ‘just cause’ (˘◡˘)

Unknown: rin

Unknown: wait nvm

Unknown: whatever

Unknown: rin

Rin: what

Unknown: let’s get coffee ^ ^

He stares at the screen in disbelief, watching the typing bubble pop up and disappear again and again. He can imagine again what kind of smile you must have on your face right now, or maybe you look flustered, or maybe this all means nothing to you at all and this is your way of being polite.

Regardless of the reason, he eventually types out his response.

Rin: ok

Christ, he’s so tepid.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2020

He comes to memorize every part of you, like how the sun kisses the horizon and the moon knows the tides.

Intimately, almost—if he didn’t overthink the way your touch lingered on him he could easily ignore the way it made his heart pound in his ears.

Rin learns the feeling of your fingers against his skin as you compress an ice pack to his knee. He knows your laugh—can pick apart sarcasm from genuine cheer unlike most other people he encounters. He’s never been good at reading people yet for some reason you’ve become an open book for him. 

It’s not fair that you’ve ensnared him this way, that he can’t seem to run from you (because his favourite coffee is from your café and he can’t be bothered to find a new place). That he finds himself instinctively reaching over to his phone when he can’t sleep (he has to make sure his alarms are on, might as well text you goodnight while he’s at it). And you’ve become annoyingly comfortable (he doesn’t have an excuse for this one—your lap is just conveniently a very nice place to rest his head).

He must be an open book, too.

At some point he probably stopped trying to hide his growing feelings for you, though you either didn’t notice his sudden shift or you didn’t care.

Vulnerability has never been a part of Rin, even before Itoshi Sae ruined his life.

He despises how you so easily pry him apart, skinning him alive with your hand lathering down his chest as you laugh. 

Still, he’s grown accustomed to your fingers stringing through his hair, to the way your head tilts when he explains football plays to you, to the obvious way you fluster when he attempts (poorly) at flirting with you.

He’s gotten especially fond of the way you meet him at the end of his practices with such sweet, wandering hands—pushing the hair stuck to his forehead from sweat away from his eyes; using a towel to wipe up his neck; the squeeze you give his palms as you examine them to see if there are any new cuts and bruises.

Usually, he’s the epitome of confidence in his plays. Today, however, his cheeks burn as you approach him with the same honeyed smile.

“My shots were shoddy,” he admits before you can even get a word out. You only raise a brow, hands faltering in front of you. “That was lame.”

“I think you’re good.”

“Good,” he frowns. “But not great?”

“The greatest,” you quickly correct yourself, smiling at his cravings for praise. You’re armed with a fresh towel like you always are, reaching up to clean his face as if it’s the only thing you were born to do.

He relishes in your gentle touch, peering at you through his lashes while you prattle on about how amazing he was even though he missed half of his shots.

You were so blindly supportive, it sickens him. 

Not because he felt you were being disingenuous, but because he’s not deserving of your praise. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels as though his soul is disconnected from his body. He used to walk the earth this way—uninterested in his surroundings and obsessed with only one thing.

Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae.

Suddenly, he’s thirteen again and gasping for air; screaming into his pillow and trashing their shared awards until his mother comes rushing in to stop him. He’s alone in a field, abandoned and crushed.

It’s not like he’d never lost before, even in front of you. Loss was just a part of football as much as he hated it.

But your praise only makes his stomach turn, because he knows you mean it.

You truly do believe he’s the best, when really he’s been futile in his attempts to catch up with the big brother he admired so much as a kid.

“Stop,” he gently interrupts.

Rin tries to use his hair to hide the wetness of his eyes, with little success. You can see right through him, unfortunately. It’s a talent he wishes you didn’t have.

“Rin?” You say softly, reaching up to brush the hair out of the way. He doesn’t try and back up or swat your hand away, instead letting you see his miserable expression. You sigh quietly, looking more exasperated than surprised.

“Sorry,” he mutters halfheartedly.

You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Shame boils in his stomach at your reassurance. There is something to apologize for. Here you are, supporting him with all your heart, and all he can think about is his stupid brother. How he’ll never catch up. How he’ll never be good enough.

Doesn’t your kindness warrant his attention at the very least?

“Come on,” you tug at his hand. “Let’s get you a pick-me-up.”

Rin abides silently, body following yours off the field and onto the streets though his mind has floated off elsewhere.

He tries to count how many steps you take in between the field and the destination, but loses count somewhere around three hundred. Then he moves on to counting the hairs on the back of your head. He loses count at one hundred. Eventually, he gives up and opts for staring at your conjoined hands while he lags behind.

When you come to a halt, he nearly bumps into your back.

The ringing in his ears stops as he blinks at his surroundings. Waves crash against the shore of the sandbank, singing the song of the ocean. It had been so long since Rin walked down this stretch of the shore, he almost forgot what the sea looked like.

“Wait here,” you urge as you hold him by the shoulders then disappear around the corner.

He collapses at the wall separating land from sea, swinging his legs under the railings to sit comfortably as he remembers doing when he was a kid. His gym bag is abandoned behind him, cleats and all.

When you return, you shove a popsicle into his hand.

He’s confused at first, just looking absently at the packaging. It must be for a concerning amount of time, because you eventually pipe up.

“Do you need me to open it for you?”

Rin glares at you and your teasing smile. Carefully, he unpackages the treat and pops it in his mouth.

Sweetness melts over his tongue and he exhales sharply through his nose. You watch him in amusement with your own treat stuck in your mouth.

Silence engulfs you, eating Rin from the inside out until he feels ill. He holds his half-eaten popsicle in front of him, watching it melt down his hand.

You stare at him for a second before nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“I was being serious. You were really good. I can’t even imagine playing like you do.”

Rin’s stomach turns. The last thing he wants is your pity.

“You don’t have to be so nice,” he mumbles, resting his chin on the railing. “42 percent.”

“42 percent?” You echo, peering over the railing to get a better look at his face.

“The percent of shots I made today.”

“Come on,” you urge gently. “Aren’t you being too hard on yourself?”

“If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never—” he stops, choking lightly on his spit. When you don’t interrupt, he shoves the popsicle back in his mouth. “Whatever. You wouldn't get it.”

It’s quiet again, save for the crashing of waves upon rock. Rin thinks for a moment that maybe he had gone too far, or that his little meltdown had freaked you out.

But when he finally dares to look at you again, you’re smiling.

“Maybe not,” you admit with a whisper. “But I do know this…” You reach over and cup his cheek with your free hand, thumb sweeping the expanse of his cheek soothingly. “There is no one—and I mean no one—who works harder than you do.”

He swallows thickly, subconsciously nudging his face a little further into your palm.

“You deserve to be a little kinder to yourself.”

The way his heart catches in his throat is strange. He can’t describe it. The warmth in his belly is foreign, but it’s pleasant.

For the first time in the year he’s gotten to know you, the thought crosses his mind:

I think I’m in love with you.

Rin’s mouth opens with the idea, but he forces it shut just as fast.

Fear grips his lungs and squeezes, stealing his air and forcing him to pull away from your touch.

“Okay,” he breathes in resignation.

You seem stunned by his sudden retreat, smile faltering ever so slightly. But you recover quickly, hugging yourself as you slouch over the railing.

Conversation moves on just like that. He appreciated that about you, too. He never had to dwell.

It feels nice, everything about this; to have his legs dangling over the edge of the cement, feet barely ghosting over the surface of the water; to have a popsicle melting between his teeth while he listens to you talk.

For some reason, it feels as though he’s reclaiming lost time, reliving a moment he thought he would never have again.

When he checks his popsicle stick, it tells him he’s a winner for the first time since he was thirteen.

(He finally allows himself to believe it when your knee gently knocks into his.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2021

“Frog cotton candy?”

“Frog shaped cotton candy,” Rin corrects, peering around the giant fluff of candy to look at you quizzically.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “But why?”

He grumbles quietly, cheeks a soft shade of pink as he shoves the treat into your hands.

“I thought you’d like it. Nevermind,” he deadpans, turning around to toss it into the garbage.

Your laugh crescendos and he feels his heart squeeze with affection. When your hand stops him by the forearm, he thinks he might explode.

“It’s cute.”

You pick apart the floss ruthlessly with your fingers, and he watches almost in a trance—hypnotized by just your existence.

(When you finally pop the sugar into your mouth, he imagines it melting on his own tongue. The thought makes him unbearably warm and he forces it away.)

His fascination with you doesn't end there.

There's a certain charm to you that he can't understand—something that draws him in, tantalizing but terrifying at the same time.

He can't help the way he watches in a daze, the way you've ensnared all his attention and taken up the space in his mind. 

Rin has never been good at being kind, but here he is.

Here he is, bringing you cotton candy because he thought it was stupid but cute.

Here he is, rolling up the sleeves of your yukata with a gentle scolding when you rush over to catch goldfish.

And here he is, letting you cling to his arm as if he's the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

He really, really hates it—how mushy you make his brain feel.

He's halfway through re-rolling your sleeves with a half-hearted scowl on his face when you stop him, hand pressed to his forearm.

“Listen, Rin.”

“Hm?” He leans down so that he can peer at your face hidden behind your almost nonexistent candy floss.

“I have to show you something.”

Rin stops dead in his tracks, raising a brow as he fully turns toward you. “What is it?”

“Can you close your eyes for me?”

His heart does a somersault in his chest. “You’re not doing anything weird, are you?”

“Who do you think I am?” You sputter.

He lets out a long sigh before complying, squeezing his eyes shut. After a long silence, he considers peeking a little bit.

That is, until he feels your breath gently fanning over his parted lips.

Nearly leaping back, he wills himself to stay grounded and slowly slides his hands up your arms until he gets to your shoulders. As he imagined, your body is impossibly close to his.

It takes every bit of concentration he has not to waver. If he really tries, he can focus on how your breath smells sweet of candy. How your hair blows softly with the summer breeze, tickling his cheeks. How you smell. How you breathe.

(Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. Is that okay?)

You tense up in his hold and suddenly you’re retreating from him, swiftly pulling out of his arms. Just as he’s about to ask you what happened, there’s a piece of candy shoved into his mouth.

“You wanted to try it, didn’t you?” You ask rather breathlessly. He opens his eyes, looking at you curiously.

Rin has never seen this expression on you before, lips pulled tight in embarrassment and pupils blown. You look more like a wild animal caught in a cage than someone who just made a move on him.

He gingerly takes the empty paper cone from your hands and folds it up, no longer able to meet your gaze lest he explode on the spot.

“Yeah,” he says softly, shuffling over to dump it into a bin. “Thanks.”

When he turns around to look at you again, his breath gets caught in his throat.

Why are you laughing?

You giggle into your palm, hiding your gleeful smile from him as you double over slightly.

“Your face is all red!” You holler.

He grunts in embarrassment, using the back of his hand to hide his own face. “Shut the hell up,” he spits.

“It’s almost like you wanted me to kiss you!”

“Oh my god, please drop it.”

“No way! I’ve never seen you look like that before!”

(‘Speak for yourself,’ he thinks.)

“So what if I did?”

Your laughter halts as if it was swallowed into the pits of your stomach. Slowly unraveling to stand up straight, he sees another expression he’s never been able to imagine on you, but he can’t quite place it.

“Did what?” You murmur.

“Want you to kiss me.”

Your face is warm under the glow of lanterns, eyes shimmering with the overhead lights. Rin watches your mouth open and close repeatedly as you try and formulate some sort of response.

A firework explodes atop of you, and he wonders if it just saved you.

You seem jarred for only a moment more until you jolt, grabbing him roughly by the arm and giving him a pull.

“I just remembered,” you gasp. “I actually did have something to show you!”

Rin doesn’t get a word in before you’re dragging him along by the arm. With each boom of an explosion, your footsteps pick up, building into a full blown sprint out of the festival grounds and through the thicket.

You tug him along, guiding him by the hand through the winding path of trees and logs. His stamina is better than yours but you’re pushing up the hill despite your huffing and puffing—it makes him laugh with you.

When you break free of the forest, Rin’s eyes focus on a field of plush grass and buttercups.

You let go of his hand, flinging yourself forward and spinning on your heel to exaggerate how wide the opening is with your arms.

“Isn’t it great?” You shout over the fireworks. “Away from the crowd!”

He rushes up to you so that you can stop yelling, invading your personal space until you can hear him just at his normal volume.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you earnestly.

You grin up at him widely before pulling him along to the edge of the clearing. You plop down together, eyes glued to the sky as the fireworks rage on.

Rin only lasts a few seconds before his eyes drift to the side, trying to drink in your expression. It’s become a habit of his to try and imprint your very existence into his brain.

Against his better judgment, his hand creeps toward yours until your fingers are overlapped.

Thankfully, you don’t use the opportunity to tease him about it, instead shifting a little closer until you’re practically burrowed into his side. If it were anyone else, he would have shoved them away.

(When did he stop trying to push you away?)

When your pinkies slowly close together, he feels as if he can’t breathe properly.

Mark-to-mark, it’s as though he is full of all the love he’s ever felt for you from every life—past or future. Like there’s a love that exists within him that transcends lifetimes, if it were even possible.

If he were to peer into another dimension, would you still be together like this? Would you be plucking buttercups and mindlessly twirling them between your fingers? Would he be itching to envelop you in his arms just to devour you?

His thoughts cease when you take a deep breath.

“I used to come here alone,” you admit.

“No one took you?” He asks. Your gaze is piercing the night sky, never leaving the show. He can see the bloom of colours in them.

“Not since I was little, but I always loved it here.”

The question burns hot in Rin’s mind: even if it was a little lonely sometimes?

He remembers back to the night that he first saw you, with your hands dipping into the murky waters of a frog pond and an air of desolation surrounding you. Then he remembers how he couldn’t sleep that night. Not with the image of you crouching there alone burned into his memory.

“Did you know this festival is a celebration of love?” He suddenly asks.

Oh what the fuck? Oh, god. Why did he say that?

That was so lukewarm of him. So stupid. So pointless and lame.

He just wanted something to say to you, something that would make him stop thinking about how you might have been alone for all that time before you knew him.

The silence burns between you, tense and awkward until he starts stuttering out something else to fill the void. But then you look at him, slow and intrigued and so damn amused that he can feel heat rising to the tips of his ears.

“I had no idea.”

There’s a longing in your expression that tells a different story. A twitch of your pinky against his that gives away your blatant lie.

And, damnit. Here he is again, four years later under the same stars. Under the same fireworks. Only this time, he’s able to see your face even closer as it lights up a million different colours—teal like his eyes; rose like his cheeks; golden like the heart he’s tried so hard to protect.

Four years later and he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen: pinkies interlocked, sheepish smile on your face, an undeniable shake in your voice that means you have more that you’re too nervous to say.

For a moment he considers finally letting go of all the things keeping him bolted and chained where he stands, swallowing the key to the cage surrounding his fragile, thumping heart. And for that fleeting second, he feels as though he’s the bravest man alive—that nothing could stop him even if you were to turn away and snub him out with the heel of your foot.

But how could he open his mouth and tell you anything when all he feels is the sick twisting of his stomach, the daunting glare of the older brother he adored so much, and the coldness of snow soaking his clothes as he sits in a field and cries?

There’s a burning, raging fire within him. Something primal and afraid and unchanging despite how much he wants to fall into your arms the way your shared etchings say he should.

It screams at him: run away. Run. Run. Run. This will only end in hurt.

He’s too fucked up. Too messed in the head and too quick to anger because he’s actually soft at heart, easy to betray—

“Rin.”

Your hand swiftly captures his face and he’s dragged unceremoniously out of his reverie.

Of course you would be able to pick out his turmoil by expression alone. By the droop of his lips into a frown—not the annoyed one he would flash his teammates, or the grimace he would scare children away with. The kind that’s sad and slow and timid, like an animal caught in a net.

“I’m really happy that we’re friends.”

“Friends?” He breathes, half confused and half incredulous.

Deep down he knows that it’s an attempt to comfort him without being too sappy. Maybe you can sense it somewhere in your soul that he would probably break down and sob if you were to make him feel any more vulnerable than he already is with you. It’s an effort to take away whatever guilt he feels and give him a chance to relax.

However, he can see a different tale in your eyes.

Loneliness as empty as the sky on a cloudy night. A yearning for more, for someone, for him, to fill the gap. I’m tired of waiting. That’s all he can read beneath the sea of colour exploding in your irises.

It only makes him feel worse, but he allows himself to be lied to anyway if only to feel the warmth of your skin against his just a bit longer.

“Yeah.”

Your pinky twitches again. He can feel the brush of your name against his, the grate of your matching soul marks. Your eyes tear away from his and are glued to the infinite sky above once more. To the stars you know are there but are covered by smoke and fire.

Rin only stares at you. He can’t focus on the explosions of fireworks anymore, not when you’re right in front of him looking so perfect. His summer treasure.

“Yeah?”

He knows he sounds dumb, repeating everything like an oaf who can’t fathom what’s being said. You giggle and it floors him.

“Just being able to stand here with you—” you glance at him again, only for a second. He can see the exhaustion in that moment, but he’s too selfish to pry. “—I think I’m the luckiest person alive.”

“Even if…” He swallows harshly. It feels like shrapnel cutting down his throat. “Even if I can’t be more?”

“Even so.”

There’s a pause and you open your mouth to say more, maybe to give him an ultimatum or to elaborate on your feelings, but then you’re interrupted by the end of the display.

Counteless fireworks explode above you in the finale. Rin can hear the awestruck gasps of families down the hill, the distant cries of children and the faint shutter of cameras filling the air.

He realizes then: he’s been smiling. His cheeks hurt from how big it’s gotten. And you’re smiling at him, too.

(The fireworks rage on, but in the end, all he can look at is you.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2022

Falling in love with Itoshi Rin was one of the most foolish, most wonderful things that could have happened to you.

He was an enigma in and of itself, a mystery of a soulmate who was able to love you wholeheartedly and push you away at the same time.

There were nights where you would stay up wondering why he was your soulmate when it seemed like all he wanted to be was alone. Other times, you fell asleep smiling to yourself knowing that somewhere deep down you both belonged to each other. 

The universe chose you. The universe chose him. It was indisputable, yet you still had doubts.

Tonight is one of those “foolish” nights. It seems as though you have been stood up.

For three hours you’ve waited in the same spot at the gates of the festival, watching families and couples pass by but never the one person you’d wait until the end of the world for. The sun has long since gone to sleep over the horizon and the streets are fully lit up with lanterns for the festivities.

6 pm. That was the time Rin promised he would meet you. In the past, he was always late but at least had the decency to tell you beforehand that you could go ahead without him. Only when you arrived and sat down to wait for him had he finally messaged you.

Rin: gonna be late. see you at 7.

7 pm. That was the rescheduled time. It was when you expected to see him walking up to you in his yukata that you begged him to wear this year, matching adoringly with yours. And at 7 pm you would tell him. You would tell him everything.

For months prior you had practiced almost pathetically so, recited and perfected your speech while staring at your reflection in a mirror. You’d written him a letter, too.

7 pm. You were finally going to thank Rin for everything. For accompanying you to such a silly festival even though you know he loathes it. For meeting you under the stars and the moon and the fireworks time and time again. For bringing life back into a childhood memory that you had long since hated.

7 pm. You were going to tell him thank you. You were going to tell him you loved him, just as it had been written in the stars many years before you were born.

It’s 9 pm, nearing 10 and the start of the fireworks show. He missed the entire night without explanation.

At 9:58 pm, just as you’re about to give up all hope, you finally come face to face with teal eyes and a stupidly handsome face sheen with sweat. It shouldn’t hurt so much, the way he looks at you so dismissively as if he hadn’t blown you off all night. 

“Sorry,” he mutters disingenuously, attempting to brush past you without a second thought. “Let’s go, I’m thirsty.”

He has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and a windbreaker over his uniform. No sign of the yukata you had picked out for him to wear.

You don’t follow him, staring at his back in disbelief. When he realizes you aren’t trailing behind, he turns on his heel and raises a brow in question. “Are you coming?”

“I was waiting for you all night,” you tell him coldly. I was waiting for you all this time and you never showed up. 

He swallows thickly, suddenly overcome by guilt because of your downcast expression. “I know. I lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time?” You scoff incredulously. Your mouth opens as if you have more to say, but you’re interrupted by a bang.

Rin’s eyes flutter closed. He can’t listen to this. He can’t watch.

He knows this all too well. He knew it all along.

The universe was wrong. Itoshi Rin was never cut out to be someone’s soulmate.

“We’re missing it…”

Your back is turned to him but all he can imagine is the terrible expression you must be making right now, twisted in sadness and anger. The worse image is a completely blank face—unfeeling and cold. He doesn’t even want to think about it.

Booms echo in the distance yet all he can focus on is the faint hum in his ears, the horrible churning in his stomach and the fog of guilt clouding his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that he’s sure you can’t even hear him under the deep, bellowing explosions over the horizon.

He doesn’t remember the last time he apologized for anything like this. Being cold and aloof was just in his nature. Never before had he felt like it was necessary to be remorseful for the way he is—for how he was made to be.

The slight tremble of your shoulders and the way you use the back of your sleeves to wipe tears from your eyes force the words out of him before he can stop it. He tells you again,

“I’m sorry.”

He weakly attempts to grab you by the arms, holding you from behind so he can make you look at him. You jerk away fast as lightning, knocking him away as you swivel around to glare.

“Why didn’t you come?” You demand. There’s anger shaking in your voice. Rin doesn’t know how to respond to it, not when you’ve always been so understanding and kind. Perhaps he was too cruel for you if he was going to break you this way.

“I got caught up with—”

“With football, right?” You laugh bitterly, taking a generous step back. Hurt pours from every inch of your expression and all it does is make his heart ache.

“Stop,” he suddenly snaps. You flinch at his tone and shrink back, only adding to his guilt. He always had the worst temper. “Don’t be like this. You know it was important,” he explains, gentler this time. Softer, trying to coax you back over.

There’s a beat of complete silence, save for the hollowed explosions in the distance. Rin blinks at you a couple times before his frayed nerves finally calm again. And then he realizes something terrible.

The look in your eyes, the deflation of your shoulders—this is what utter defeat looks like. For a moment deja vu rushes through his blood, bringing him back to a time when he too felt as miserable as you. 

Every year he’s had the opportunity to read your expression: I’m tired of waiting. But he always foolishly assumed you would still wait around for him forever. That your patience would be as infinite as the stars in the sky. That just because he had the privilege of having his name scrawled down your pinky, he would be guaranteed to have you.

It was disgustingly selfish.

Just as he opens his mouth to apologize again, you storm up to him and shove the piece of paper roughly into his chest. With the closed gap, he can clearly see the tears streaming down your face illuminated by warm lanterns.

“Just forget it.”

“Wait—” He catches your wrist as you push past him, stopping you in your tracks again despite your struggle to get away. “Come on, I said I’m sorry!”

“Rin,” you sniffle, voice breaking with just the syllable of his name. It makes him falter. “I’m tired.”

“But—”

“You can’t even spare me one night? Just this one night in the entire year?” You breathe, no longer trying to dance around the subject. “What is it with you? What are you so afraid of?”

Being put in the spotlight never bothered Rin before. It was easy enough to ignore when all his life he was watched carefully. But it’s different with you; you’re the only one looking at him in this moment yet it feels like the weight of a million pairs of eyes at once.

An answer comes quickly to his mind, almost natural. He knows exactly what’s wrong with him.

He’s afraid of being left behind again. Of being hurt. Rin is terrified of love and being loved because he’s too pathetically fragile.

The pieces of his heart are clumsily glued together and he’s scared that even the smallest turbulence would send it shattering into a billion shards again. He doesn’t know how to put himself back together properly anymore. 

Itoshi Sae permanently fucked him up.

Though they were on slightly better terms now, the scars would always haunt him. The simple solution is to shut everyone else out, to protect the weak heart he harbours.

If he told you that, would you understand? Or would you try and claw his name off your skin?

You take his silence as an answer and pry away from him again, holding yourself protectively—guarding yourself from the catastrophe that follows Rin wherever he goes.

“Goodbye, Rin.”

He doesn’t watch you go. 

The nearest bench becomes his temporary home. He could do hundreds of plays in a football game and never tire, but for some reason your disdain has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.

It doesn’t register that he’s still holding the paper you forced into his hands until it crinkles in his hold. He slowly unfolds it revealing ink sloppily smeared across the page.

And then he reads it. Again. And again. And again, until it’s shaking in his hold. Until the dull ache in his heart feels like the pierce of a knife. 

Rin doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s always had one clear goal for his entire life, but now everything is all muddled. Messy, like everything else he touches.

He turns everything into a disaster.

Does he chase after you and risk having his fragile heart broken all over again? Does he risk being left behind or does he close off the gate for that option entirely? He could sit in his cowardice and never change, preserving his heart forever in this moment of time; a polaroid in the slideshow of his mortality.

There’s a familiarity to this all. Perhaps he had lived through this decision a million lives before this. Maybe he would live through it again an infinite amount of times, so long as it was your name etched into his skin.

Was he as messed up in this life as he was in every other?

If he had ruined everything in this life, if he made the wrong choice and drove you away in hatred until you drew your last breath, then maybe he could make it all up to you in the next one.

Or, if that were the case, maybe he was born into this world only to love you—to make up for the millenia where he ran away.

Rin’s legs have never moved so fast. Not in football. Not even from his brother. If you were the light at the end of the tunnel then he would keep chasing you forever, he thinks. Until his wounded heart gave out.

Of all the stupid decisions he’s made in his life, have any of them amounted to anything? He’s going to give it one last try. One more chance to prove to himself that not everything he touches burns to ashes.

“Wait!”

You visibly startle, eyes wide as you turn to see Rin dashing toward you. He doesn’t give you even a moment to ask questions, to wonder why he’s coming back to break your heart again. 

You’re engulfed in a hug faster than you can blink, stumbling back from the force of his body colliding with yours until your sandals get kicked off your feet.

“Rin?” You murmur his name in disbelief, breathless even though you weren’t the one sprinting down the road.

“Just give me one more chance,” he stammers out. You can feel the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he holds you and fights for air simultaneously. Your hands twitch at your sides but you remain lifeless in his arms.

He tries again: “Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that it wasn’t some freak accident that led me to you. That my name on your skin is meant to be there.”

“Don’t do this,” you tell him quietly, lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “I don’t want to be loved and feared at the same time.”

“But…” Rin squeezes your body against his, almost desperately. Clinging to what he has ruined. “For once in my life, I want something more.”

I don’t want to be alone anymore.

You hesitantly shift, hands slowly trailing up his back until your body is curling against his. He can trace the outline of your body against his, like a puzzle piece that he was missing slotted perfectly in his grasp.

“I thought my soulmate would only slow me down and break me. I was wrong. I know that now.”

He slowly rocks your bodies back and forth. You pull away until your eyes meet his, red with tears. It’s the messiest he has ever seen you, but his heart refuses to be still. It aches.

Beautiful. It’s the only word he can describe you with. It didn’t matter if you were lit up under the wondrous sky, or handing him coffee in a crowded café, or sobbing in his arms. 

You would only ever be his infinitely beautiful soulmate.

It’s the only constant he would have in this life and every other, even if you were to break his heart. It would be the single greatest achievement in his time, above football, above any of his petty competitions—that your name is etched down his pinky.

It scares him. It thrills him.

With the distant roar of fireworks, he kisses you. And you allow him, hiccuping against his lips as you cry.

You stay like that for a long time, listening to the hollow shockwaves of fireworks exploding miles away. He’s the first to draw back, raking in shallow breaths. You chase him, finding solace against his lips once more but not fully indulging him with another kiss.

“Do you fear me?” You whisper into his mouth.

“More than anything,” he tells you.

“Do you love me?”

After a moment of contemplation, he answers,

“More than anything.”

You nod slowly, awkwardly pulling away from him and taking a step back. It’s your first kiss and you don’t know where you’re supposed to look anymore. Rin stops your nervous shifting with his hand swooping under your chin.

“One year. I promise.” You look at him in confusion, so he continues. “Next year, when the season and my contract are over, I’ll meet you there. At the pond.”

You seem skeptical still, with your brows knitted together and a lost haze in your eyes. He raises his pinky, the one with your name forever grafted into the skin, and offers it to you.

“I pinky promise.”

It’s so ridiculous, wearing his heart on his sleeve with something he learned about on playgrounds when he was a child. A pinky promise shouldn’t mean any more than the words he has already spoken. But for some reason, your eyes light up.

He feels nothing but relief when your pinkies lock together.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“You’ll wait for me?”

“Rin.” His name leaves you in a breathless laugh that makes his world spin. It sounds so tired yet so sweet. “I’ve been waiting all my life.”

“I’m sorry,” he says once more for good measure. You nod. A wordless acceptance.

Itoshi Rin is your soulmate. It’s not like that fact will ever change no matter the time, no matter the distance.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2023

Fate is a funny thing. Soulmates are a funny thing.

The universe threw Rin curveball after curveball, beating him down until he was nothing but a husk heavenly built for one purpose only: beat Sae. Beat Itoshi Sae.

There were times when he would lay awake at night wondering why he was given this life, why he was thrust into hardship and hurt and betrayal. How could something so perfect, something so all-knowing, be so cruel?

For as long as the name had been grafted into his skin, he resented the idea of a soulmate.

He hated the idea that only one person in the world would be his eternal weakness. That one day, one person would hold every piece of his soul in their hands. Even then, his soulmate was the other half of him—his salvation. His downfall.

They would know every inch of his skin. Every bleeding wound of his heart. Every bruise and scar along his legs from cleats and nails and gravel. Having a soulmate meant having every part of him exposed, to be judged and worshiped at the same time.

At your hands, though, he’s certain this is what he was born for—to spend the rest of his days by your side even if you were doing something as mundane as catching frogs together.

“You’re scaring them,” you hiss quietly.

Your fingers sink into the pond and Rin watches your reflections ripple as water fills your palms. Your faces contort and meld into one being. In some ways, it’s a familiar feeling—to have been intertwined with you since his very conception.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“It’s your fault!”

“Right,” he deadpans. “You haven’t caught a single one all night.”

“You were late,” you remind him with a huff, cheeks inflated. “Before you got here I was catching frogs all night. Coincidence?”

Rin makes another noise, something akin to a snort. But he doesn’t acknowledge your statement, instead reaching over to gingerly roll the sleeves of your yukata up to your elbows.

“Are you always so sloppy? Your sleeves are getting all wet.”

You glare at him from the side, delivering a deadly warning. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“I get it, I get it. I said I was sorry for being late. Nii-chan really wanted to try that new ice cream place downtown.”

Your gaze drifts to him in the shimmering reflection, watching his smile soften at the mention of his big brother. It was wonderful that they were trying to patch things up.

Sae had decided to come home after all, promising Rin that they would play together again once they both took a well deserved break.

You could tell that Rin was trying his best not to make a big deal out of it, but the way he cried into your shoulder later that night said it all.

“I feel bad having you come all the way out here just to see me. Your brother is back in Japan isn’t he?”

“Yeah. And he wants to meet you.”

You nearly fall over. “What?”

“Please don’t look so starstruck about that. I feel sick.”

Laughing, you recentre yourself, sitting back on your heels with your hands on your knees. “Sorry, sorry! It’s not that…”

Rin raises a brow. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It’s just—” you fumble, cheeks burning hot at the idea of being introduced to Rin’s family after all these years. Formally, as his partner. His soulmate. The name they had all known since he was thirteen. “What would I even say to him?”

He looks at you in bewilderment. Then, he snickers, only laughing harder when you smack his arm.

“Don’t worry about that,” he assures, reaching out to pat the top of your head. “Just be yourself. My family will love you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, studying your reflections in the water with a soft smile. You’re staring right back at yourself, but Rin is only looking at you.

“I haven’t done anything special.”

“You lit up my world,” you laugh, turning back up to look at him properly. You make a mini explosion with your hands. “Boom! Like that. A firework.”

“You’re too corny,” he murmurs in embarrassment, turning his head away to hide his flushed face. “Can’t you explain it like a normal person?”

“No can do,” you tell him, voice gentler this time. After a pause, you shuffle your sandals around in the mud and take a deep breath. “If you want me to be totally serious…”

You lunge over and tackle him into your arms. He nearly loses his balance holding the both of you upright, stumbling back on his heels before he catches your waist. You don’t seem to share the sentiment of staying pristine, knees digging into the dirt as you squeeze him tighter.

Rin feels his heart catch in his throat the same way you’ve made it for the last six years.

“Thank you. For letting me love you. For being my soulmate.”

His hand is automatically in your hair, scratching your scalp as he smiles into your shoulder.

“I’m sure I gave you nothing but a hard time,” he grumbles.

“But I still love you.”

“Even though you had to wait?”

“Even so.”

“And that I’m a pain in the ass?”

“Even then, I do.”

Rin burrows himself into your neck, hiding his face again. It does a poor job at masking the kind of expression he’s making, though, considering how warm his skin is.

“What if I’m not good enough?”

He feels terrible—guilty that he needs to keep having this conversation with you. But you always comfort him the same way. He hopes you always will.

Drawing his head up with your muddy hands, you dirty his cheeks just to get a glimpse of him. You murmur a half-hearted sorry for making a mess.

Then you’re kissing him.

“I’ll be here to remind you how much I cherish you.”

You nip his bottom lip and he opens wider. You whisper into his mouth,

“And how happy I am that Itoshi Rin was born into this world.”

Itoshi Rin, broken. He who thought that he could never be put back together.

Itoshi Rin, vengeful. He who believed the only happiness that existed for him in this world was to surpass his brother.

Itoshi Rin, who did not believe in his soulmate while staring right at them. And Itoshi Rin, who finally allowed himself to love you wholly, completely, as it was written in the stars.

“I love you,” he says, as if just those three words could encapsulate everything he feels for you.

“Always?” You giggle. He rolls his eyes. 

“Wherever you are, and wherever you may be, I will.”

You kiss him one more time for good measure.

“That was corny.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2024

“No peeking.”

Rin folds up his piece of paper and hangs it from the bamboo tree. You’re tugging him along before he can even properly check to see if it’s been secured.

“Come on, I don’t want to miss the fireworks!”

He wouldn’t miss them for the world. You’ve always looked the most beautiful under the brightened summer sky.

The wish he scribbled down blows softly in the breeze as both of you rush by, back to the festival where it all began.

7 July 2024. I wish I had the words to tell you how much I love you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

extra notes. hi! if you made it this far, i'd like to give you the warmest most grateful thank you ever ( ´ ω `)

so, here it is. i've been working on this since last september-ish... for some people that amount of time is not much, but genuinely, i've never devoted so much attention and time to one single fic and i hope i did this one justice. rin has always been a guilty pleasure of mine to write for. i hope this man stays far far away from me until i can stomach even looking at his name again LOL ‾́ ◡ ‾́

also i finally admitted defeat and took out all my pictures and dividers because tumblr was fighting my posts that had any. so... sorry the formatting looks like this

additional tags: @jenoutof10 @hanrinz @itoshiexx lol hi guys it made it out of the drafts i hope you like it

[kaiser1ns]

𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: it doesn't take much to say or show you love someone even with the simplest of actions.

╹contents :: can be read as fem/gn reader; characters from blue lock, jjk and honkai star rail, FLUFF, ooc maybe?

╹notes :: as i was walking to go home at like 10pm i thought of this, hope you enjoy! added hsr specially for @okkalo ♡

ITOSHI SAE immediately takes you out to visit the sea when he gets some days off. The sounds of the waves, the relaxing atmosphere and you in his arms calm him down causing him to flashback to his childhood memories of when he was just a small and carefree child wanting nothing more but to play football with his little brother and personal cheerleader.

Not only he is known as the strongest but GOJO SATORU is also known for having a very strong sweet tooth. So what does he do to reduce the sugar? He shares it with you because there is nothing better than sharing his favourite thing with his lover, so let's say he gets a double dose of chocolate and candy from just seeing you and that's enough.

AVENTURINE is not afraid to take the risk and his constant smile makes it difficult for people to guess his true intentions. Not with you though, he lets his guard down, your voice soothing him to help him relax and as he gets lost in your touch. He is not Aventurine of the IPC or the Ten Stonehearts, he is just Kakavasha the little boy who once dreamed of love and now he won the biggest treasure in his life — you.

ITOSHI RIN knows how much you don't like scary movies, and that's why when you come over for the weekends you watch movies or series of your choice, be it Barbie or The Lion King. He will swallow his ego and stop watching the weekly uploads of his favourite scary games just so you can't fall asleep on purpose because of the horror films.

GETO SUGURU can't stop talking about how beautiful, amazing, and kind you are. Mimiko and Nanako are tired because they are the only ones who get to hear all his murmuring when you are away even for only 5 minutes. But they know how much he loves you and how you breathe life into him, and he wishes that someday they will become like you — strong and good-hearted.

ARGENTI thanks and prays to Idrila every moment of his life for obtaining the biggest blessing to ever exist and that is meeting you. The Knight of Beauty makes sure to give you one red rose every day to express his profound love and admiration, it's a small gesture that symbolizes his devotion to the relationship. He should protect his lover and like flowers, the tender petals are directed to you, with the thorns to the cosmic and its danger protecting you

It may seem that he is spoiled, but in fact, NAGI SEISHIRO is not, well not that much. Sometimes he takes charge of the household chores, giving you, a well-deserved break. He washed the dishes, cooked you a meal (instant noodles), and even tried to fold the laundry. And you, pleasantly surprised, sank into the couch, embracing the rare luxury of relaxation as familiar songs from your shared playlist were playing on the TV. Even if it doesn't happen often you are forever grateful for your lazy boyfriend to do something like that.

ITADORI YUJI shows genuine interest and actively listens to you talking about your current obsession be it a series, celebrity, book, food, or anything. He loves your voice, seeing your beautiful smile, and how your eyes seem to sparkle as you talk, he is so lovestruck that he sometimes just stares at you with the most soft and genuine look. Just don't be surprised when you find some merchandise on your desk with a little love note, okay?

Engaging in meaningful conversations and connecting on a deeper level with DR. RATIO seems like every other normal day for him. He approaches every interaction with a thirst for knowledge. And you take him by surprise every time and he doesn't know what to do, the great genius suddenly stops functioning. The way you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, make him stutter — he goes crazy and questions himself about how there is no logical explanation for this, but there is, it is called love.

SHIDOU RYUSEI doesn't like to share his material possessions with anyone, he worked so hard to get the last volumes of Chainsaw Man as they are now put on the shelf in his bedroom. And imagine his reaction when he sees you reading volume 10 which has Makina on the cover, cuddled nicely with his blanket on the bed. How dare you read it without him? And so he jumps onto the mattress, squishing you because that's your punishment for not telling him. You apologized to him of course but for him to fully forgive you, next time you will be on anicon cosplaying Makima and Denji.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI remembers the small details about you and your preferences. If you don't like a certain ingredient in the food, he will order the dish without it. You like to sleep on this side of the bed, no problem he will sleep on the other side as you both cuddle and drift to Dreamland. He will immediately notice the change in your mood and even if he is not so good with words, he will always be there for you offering his warm embrace.

As a Galaxy Ranger BOOTHILL tends to travel around the cosmos a lot and sadly he can't spend time with you. But when he's with you, one of the things you do is his hair and to put cute stickers on his metal hands or guns. The scary cyborg cowboy is now a pretty princess with pigtails, heart stickers and with a very happy lover. He watches you having fun with his makeover — and will do everything possible to spend more time with you.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.

word count: 6k...

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination. 

There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.

Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 

Initially, there was clearly tension between you and Rafe.

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.

You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash. 

In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets.

Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.

Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the frustration growing in your chest.

He was so fucking insufferable. 

"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?"

He shot you a glare, but you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."

You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.

"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

Rafe rolled his eyes, "C'mon,” he scoffed, "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."

You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness.

On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause.

There was no third chance. 

“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.

“I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”

"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

"Keep your voice down."

The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom. 

As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards.

Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.

“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”

Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back.

Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.

“C’mon,” He whispered, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”

You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat. 

“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously.

Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a little hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within your reach.

As he guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.

He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving.”

Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave hiding a potential threat.

"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but still edged with that irritation.

"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."

You whipped your head around to glare at him.

“No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”

His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints.”

“At least they’re not murder—”

You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching again as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger you could feel radiating from him was answer enough to you.

He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency.

The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.

What could you possibly say? Apologize?

There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words.

It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.

You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past not letting you calm down the way you really wanted to. It was done.

And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t. 

Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like it was never ending, you hated every minute of it.

After what felt like an eternity, light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

The worst was over, for now at least.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike.

He was all focus still, that calculating side that had always unnerved you. 

You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.

“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, dulled by the exhaustion.

"We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."

“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”

He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”

The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end.

Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death. 

"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”

You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't ignore the nagging feeling of guilt from what you’d almost said before.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you continued, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”

Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.

“If you say so.”

As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.

Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.  

You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water lapped gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.

“Helping you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness.

In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.

“Right.”

As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps. Traitor.

You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had expected, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.

"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.

He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”

With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps.

As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.

After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island.

The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.

"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."

“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.

"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."

His what?

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly hid your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a talent for getting what he wanted.

To pretend and lie his way out.

The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"

"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks. 

The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."

"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”

Baby?

He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway.

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.

“After you.”

You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.

"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."

You sank onto the edge of the bed, resting the mattress. “Better than my room back home.”

“Really?”

"Don't act so surprised. We're not exactly living in luxury over there."

You could see the realization click on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”

You shot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously? You'd actually sleep on the floor?"

He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."

You didn’t want to delve into that.

Instead, you only stared at him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none.

Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.

“Okay.”

With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.

Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind.

As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't ignore the possibility that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.

You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”

Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”

Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness.

For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. 

He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. The sight of him trapped in a nightmare weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.

Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his slumber. "Hey, wake up."

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear nearly knocked you out instantly but your body instinctively started against his hold as you struggled to break free.

Muscle memory and all.

"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for him to let go. But he was so lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.

Panic took over you as the world started to blur around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him again, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp.

“Rafe!"

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat disappeared, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed.

Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling, "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

It was a startling thing to witness , seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say.

But then, instinct kicked in again,and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.

He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could.

Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”

Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.

After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”

You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead.

“I know," you whispered softly, “It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”

You didn’t know why you offered him that solace.

"You do?"

You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light. 

"Yeah," you admitted, "They’re pretty bad too.”

There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside.

Then, Rafe spoke again, "What do you dream about?"

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression told you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once,

“Luke. You?”

Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."

You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing.

He wasn't like you.

“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."

"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily.

With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded. 

"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."

With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you.

“Don’t snore.”

“Not more than you do.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt bearable.

When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.

"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."

You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you.

Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.

You got up from the bed and stretched. You needed a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed yourself properly, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl.

You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.

As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a dream, washing away the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.

Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness.

Another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 

You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.

“Huh, good morning to you too.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”

Rafe stood there, leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction.

His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.

"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."

You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”

He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.

"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"

“Will you shut up?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall.

There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room.

The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.

“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.

You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast.

As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing him talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to go through life on his family’s wealth and influence.

But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.

When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan. Is your contact here, yet?”

“Nah, only tomorrow.”

“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”

“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”

"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"

Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.”

You felt like there was more to the story.

“Oh.”

He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”

“Sure.”

You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?” 

“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant. 

You leaned forward as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”

“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catched you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness.

You straightened up as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his. 

"It’s not important," he snapped,"Just drop it, okay?"

You recoiled at his harsh tone, the way he spoke down at you making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this.

But you were feeling inspired.

“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration taking over your mouth.

You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”

"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted,"I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

The words stung like a slap to the face.

You felt the color drain from your face.

"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"

He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”

You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.

"You think I don't know that?" he growled, “You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"

His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face.

"You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”

"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."

Can't trust you, you think that's what he wanted to say.

“Right,” You swallowed, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”

His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”

"I don't understand you."

"Neither do I."

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch seemed to tingle between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely.

You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. Like he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You can’t keep kissing me to avoid questions.”

"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I know," he murmured against your lips,"But for now, can we just...be?"

You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come. 

[dark-konohagakure2]

If the requests are still open, can you write obsessive Anbu!Itachi breaking into the house of his civilian crush (f) just to record her being passionate with her actual bf and then use the tape to blackmail her into secretly getting with him instead? 👀

tw: noncon, stalking anbu!Itachi, voyeurism, blackmail, blowjobs, facials, nonconsensusal photography, threats, yandere, victim blaming, stalking, power imbalance

All characters depicted are 18+

Itachi is nothing but grateful for his promotion to the role of captain on the Anbu Black Ops, it is both an honor and a great responsibility, one which allows him to keep close eye on and protect those dear to him, such as his village, his younger brother, and his future girlfriend.

Of course doesn't know that she's going to be his girlfriend very soon, but he does, but there is one annoying little problem standing in his way, her current so-called 'boyfriend'. Itachi can't wrap his head around why she would deign to be involved with someone so painfully average. He isn't as smart, powerful, or handsome as Itachi, and if what Itachi has seen through her window in the late hours or the night is true; he's certainly not as good in bed as Itachi.

It enrages Itachi to no end that his beloved has already lost her virginity to such an inferior man. While a pacifist at heart, Itachi would love nothing more than to show that whelp what never ending terror is, to make him pay for stealing Itachi's property, but the Uchiha holds back on his more vengeful urges, instead deciding to rectify the situation with a little bit of negotiation.

Itachi has fancied himself as a something of a photographer lately, being a part of the Anbu he needs to occasionally snap photo's for evidence, or in more insidious cases: blackmail. He doesn't delight in blackmailing people, especially not the object of his affections, but her infidelity has left him with little choice but to go to these measures, and he'll be sure to chide her for being such a bad girl as he shows her all the photos he's collected.

"Don't be so dramatic now, you should have known better than to keep your curtains open like that. I can make these photos go away, if you just get on your knees, that is..."

Itachi is still resentful of the fact that he didn't get to fuck her pussy before that pitiful excuses of a lover of her's, but he's able to look on the bright side of things; at least he gets to fuck her throat first. In all of his time spent stalking the couple, he's only seen them have plain old penis in vagina sex, how utterly boring. Since he's getting her throat first, he's going to make an impression on it, one that will render her throat so sore that she won't be able to talk without thinking about him.

He'll force his cock in and out of her mouth at a pace that is nearly impossible for her to adjust to, his balls slapping against her chin as he claims her throat as his personal cocksleeve. Part of him, the more malicious part of him, wants to snap a photo of her choking on his cock and send it to her worthless boyfriend, but he holds back for the time being. After all, what's the point of blackmail if he can't hold it over her head for as long as possible?

He'll draw it out as long as possible, wanting to savor the feeling of deflowering his beloved's throat, so he'll use every last ounce of his endurance to hold back his climax for as long as he can. When Itachi finally does finish, he'll cum all over her face, leaving her face and mouth reeking of his cock, he hopes that her boyfriend is able to taste it next time he kisses her.

He's glad that they were finally able to consummate their relationship, even if she wasn't even aware that they had any sort of relationship, but regardless of her playing coy like the silly girl she is, he'll make sure that she knows that her status as his fucktoy girlfriend is now official, whether she likes it or not.

"Good girl... I'm sure that pitiful boyfriend of yours has never fucked you that good... Speaking of him, I don't think you want to hang around him anymore, unless you want your parents seeing these pictures..."

Itachi is glad that he was able to establish a relationship with her, although it is more unconventional than he originally planned, but regardless of the means, he's still able to have his girlfriend all to himself now, and that's how it's going to stay if she values her reputation.

[jenosjarofjam]

Now, you're stuck with me forever

Alpha jeno x Omega fem!reader

-Rivals/enemies to lovers

Requested ✔️ @no-romance-for-me-please

Word count: 2k+word.

Warning: smut,abo stuff, a lot I mean a lot of slick, squirting, knotting, cussing, biting/marking, mention of scent, nicknames(princess, good girl, etc...)

An note! This is like my first one shot and abo so hopefully this is not too bad🤞.(I took some prompts idea from Tumblr.)I didn't really dive deep into the rival/enemies part.

Playlist: collide-Justine Skye, Best lover-BiBi

You took the same class with Jeno, both of you were the top 10 students in the whole uni. You vividly remember the first year you met Jeno, Jeno always sat next to you, taunting you when he got higher grades. On the other hand, you studied extra hard because of it, surprisingly Jeno still got a higher grade than you. This went on for months, until the professor decided to pair both of you up for a huge project, now you have no choice but work with him. You guys started texting each other, deadline of the project was approaching, you agreed on letting Jeno into your place to help on the project, another led to another, now he crashes into your place whenever he wants

9:34 a.m

Jeno: Can I come over I’m bored……

Y/n : Since when did you started asking?

Jeno:I’m just trying to be nice rn, I’ll bring you food.

Y/n:awwwwwwwwww are you showing affection to me rn?

Jeno: I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and choke you until the life in your eyes die down.

Y/n: kinky ;)

Jeno: stfu, u freak

Jeno was sitting on the couch, finalising the project while you ate your food. The presence of him was distracting you , you seem to be confused about the reason… but hey no one’s complaining when there’s free food.

You noticed the sun peeking through the curtains, sun ray hitting Jeno’s face, highlighting his features. He’s skin glowed under the sun, his eyes shimmered hazel, his nose- “Hey! Are you even listening to me?Hello? Earth to Y/n?” A voice abrupted your thoughts, you realised you have been unconsciously starring at him, your face blushed in embarrassment about being caught. “Were you starring at me?” He cocked his eyebrow in disbelief, “no- no way why would I be starring at you! You’re.. ugly.” Well that was a lie….. “You’re avoiding eye contac with me? Why’s that?” He grins in enjoyment watching you suffer. “No. NO why would I do that.” “Maybe because you’re into me?” He said poking fun at you. “ wha-what no no no…” “well, you’re looking at me like you want to murder me but also like…you want me.” He smirked, seeing your widened eyes. "*cough* umm I'm gonna go uhh get some water." You said, as you quickly walked to the kitchen. You let out a sigh, feeling like you lost your breathe just the moment before. You felt... feverish, oddly... horny.

You went back talking with Jeno, it still doesn't help the fact that you're thinking about getting pounded by a particular person. The uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs was borderline painful, you tried to ease the pain by crossing your legs...it didn't work. You spaced out looking into Jeno's eyes. "Hey... You should take a rest, you seem tired today," "Yeah..um yeah sorry I'll uh go to my room and get some rest, call me when you need anything." You responded, feeling the awkward tension in the room rise up. Little did you know, your scent was flaring up like crazy, the mix of raspberry jam and cherry blossom was putting off Jeno, the sweet smell of slick was oozing out of your panties, making it awfully hard for Jeno to keep his instincts and not to fuck you senselessly. You scurried off to your room, feeling overwhelmed to the brim. You started researching about random heats, trying to find the reason the sudden neediness. You came across an article about spontaneous heats.

Spontaneous heats-Though rare, there is a phenomenon called Spontaneous Heat, which is when an Omega goes into heat outside of their cycle. The rare cases where it happens include meeting one's perfect match (at which point both heat and rut begin almost immediately)

No way Lee Jeno was destined to be your mate, but you can’t deny he is dreadfully hot, but you definitely didn’t stand a chance to be with him.

All these mix signals are just throwing you over the edge.In spite of that, all you should be worrying right now is about the fact that you’re craving the feeling of Jeno’s dick sliding in and out of you.

You had to find a way to relief the pain, ignoring the fact Jeno is probably outside your room playing video games, you slipped your hand under your panties, stimulating your clit. You bite down on your pillow, trying to muffle your moans.

Jeno was standing outside your room, the scent of a sweet aroma slipping through the door crack is driving him insane. The sound of muffled moans , made it obvious you were touching yourself. The thought of marking you, letting everyone know you’re his. The desire to breed you, filling up your pussy with his cum. How pretty you’ll look when he fucks you until you’re senseless . He feels his body burning, blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t get you off his mind the entire day, he was just craving to fuck you all day long . Jeno couldn’t hold it anymore, he knew damn way he wanted you, all the pretending was driving him mad.

As you were approaching your high, you closed your eyes and focused on the climax. Yougot so lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice that someone was standing in front of your doorway.

"Always so needy for me, having fun without me huh?" You quickly cover yourself, your face burned up in embarrassment, you stared at Jeno and his very prominent erection, the size of his bulge was huge , the sheer thought of it already makes you mouth water, you wondered how it’ll feel in your hand,or even in your tight pussy. “What you looking at?” Jeno interrupts your line of thoughts, but it doesn’t make it better. He's low raspy voice sends chills down your spine. He slowly walks to your bed, kneeling down and staring into your doe-eyes, you quickly turned your head away from his stare, he quickly leans closer, closer to the point you feel his breathe against yours " I asked you y/n, what are you looking at?”. Jeno realises how stupid this is, and pulls away, before you pull him by the collar, his lips crashes into yours, the hunger you both crave for each other is finally getting satisfied, his hands naturally went around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body. He pulls away "do you want me to stop?” he asked, trying to reassure you wanted this. You hurriedly answered, longing for more “just the opposite, please” He pushes you on to the bed, now you’re under him.

“Submit yourself,” he demanded, “jeno-” “What did you call me?” he abruptly shouted, making you jolt from the unexpected behaviour. “I’m sorry, al-alpha.” he slowly pulled down your flimsy shorts along with your pink panties, the cold hands made you squirm away from his touch. He quickly put his hands on your hips and pull you in, “Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, let me make you mine,” he whispers into your ears before he forcefully lifts your head up, now you’re staring at him. He’s eyes filled with lust, the dark orbs felt like they were burning holes in yours. He takes off his shirt, his toned abs, arms bulging with veins, looks just like a wet dream in sight. He spreads your legs further apart, slotting his head between your legs. He started licking your hole, not letting a single drop of slick going to waste, before adding two fingers into your leaking hole, slick dripping to his chin, his nose bumping onto your clit adding the extra sensation, making you moan like crazy. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, taste like mine,”he mumbled, the sound of slurping echoes in your ear, your hand naturally find its way down to his head, you grip firmly on his hair, tugging it slightly letting him know your getting close to your climax. The high he brought you was like shockswaves crashing into you, you arch your back gripping harder onto his hair, you let a breathy gasp as you came all over his face.

“I’m not done with you, yet." His eyes darkened as you reached your hands towards him, freeing his cock out of his confinement, it spring out hitting his abdomen. It was huge, far from the ones you've taken before. He slowly lift your legs up, pushing the tip in you, the stretch was painfully good, you unconsciously clenched around him making him groan, your slick coating his dick making it easier for him to fit. He gave you time to adjust to his length then he slowly thrusted into you. “Fuck- take it like a good omega that you are.” The new feeling of adrenaline came rushing in, your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that made you see stars. He lets out a low breathy grunt , your creamy velvety walls sucking him in deeper, the tight fit making you feel every inch of him, every single veins dragging in and out of your pussy. He started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue swirled against yours, the passionate kiss turned into a messy make-out session. His warm lips taking over you, pussy gushing over his dick. "Alpha, I'm close-" you choked out "please, fill me up please.", you feel like time slowed, each thrust felt so sensitive, so good, you feel your vision blurring, the knot in your stomach snapped, you let a long lewd moan as you cum on Jeno's dick. Jeno kept thrusting, ignoring your whines. "Hmm, too much?? Too much for my omega? You were begging for it, you were begging me to fill you up right?? Good girl's keep their promises baby." The sensitivity was too much, you feel your eyes tearing up, you kept clenching on his girth, forming a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

Jeno used his strength and flip you around, his big hands holding onto your hips, “ass up princess.” You obeyed, feeling a sharp slap on your butt, he swify pushes back in with a one quick thrust. "Plea-se knot- in me al-pha, please, wanna be full of your pups." You pleaded, the thought of being by each other's side everyday, carrying his child, was the best fucking dream ever. "Fuck- You want me to knock you up- huh? Such a slut, such a slut for me. Fuck I'm cumming." He grunted. Jeno grabbed your hair pulling it aside, exposing your bare neck and collarbones, Jeno put his nose on your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. "Can I mark you- princess, wanna make you mine-" He asked, waiting to get a permission to forever mark you his. "Mark me please, alpha mark me!" Jeno licked the side of your neck, and bit down on it, he licked the blood that was oozing out of the mark. You screamed in pain, but the idea of being his was enough for you to bare the pain. Jeno kept thrusting in you, you feel like your were about to pass out, a new feeling rushed in, not like your typical orgasm. Your now breathy moans echoed the room along with the slapping sound of the skin, you screamed in pleasure as you squirted all over his abs. "S-shit , that was so hot, I'm so close princess." He growled, liquid dripping down your thighs. His thrusts became more sloppy, the raspy low grunts was starting to become smoky moans. You feel his dick twitched in you. He held you closer, gripping onto you harder. With a final push, his knot inflamed, hot white cum covering your walls, you whimpered from the knot's pain. The feeling was way too addictive that you can barely feel the pain now. Jeno lays on you for a few seconds, you can feel his warm breathe against your neck. It took a few seconds for him to recover from his orgasm, he finally broke the silence

"How are you feeling?" He asked genuinely, "Tired and confused...I thought you never liked me..." "Idiot, why would I not like you." "No shit Sherlock, you acted like you hated my guts." You argued

"Well now you're stuck with me forever."

[princesssarisa]

My post about whether or not Lydia should be saved from Wickham in modern Pride and Prejudice retellings has gotten more likes and reblogs than I expected. It's made me think of another possibility of why Austen didn't save her from him.

Presumably, Lydia and Wickham's marriage could have been avoided in only three ways that would have left Lydia's reputation intact. The first is if they had only been planning to elope, but it was prevented, as with Georgiana. The second is if they had been found earlier and separated before Lydia lost her virginity. Or else Lydia could have listened to Darcy and left Wickham, and then Darcy could have used his influence to protect her honor: e.g. by claiming that she was kidnapped, or by arranging a decent marriage for her.

If Austen had wanted to make any of those choices to free Lydia, she could have done it without drastically changing the plot. But if she had, it might have felt a bit too "literary" and unrealistic.

I've just been re-watching some of Dr. Octavia Cox's literary analysis videos on YouTube. They reminded me that Austen always loved to skewer the tropes and clichés of other literature, especially Gothic melodrama, whether in outright parody or in subtler deconstruction.

Dr. Cox's video on the elder Eliza's fate in Sense and Sensibility particularly highlights this trend in Austen. She argues that Eliza's story is a classic, clichéd Gothic melodrama (a beautiful orphan, an abusive uncle, thwarted romance, forced marriage to a cruel man, a "fall" into a life of "sin," and ultimate illness and death, all narrated by Colonel Brandon in heightened, poetic language), and that Austen's point in including it was arguably to highlight that this wouldn't be the fate of her heroines. Marianne comes close to it with Willoughby and with her near-fatal illness, but in the end she's saved. Austen's point was arguably to say "Yes, I know all about this type of melodrama, I know all the clichés, but I'm relegating it to the backstory, because that's not what I want to write."

(I don't know if everyone would interpret the elder Eliza's storyline this way, but it's how Dr. Cox reads it.)

Maybe with Lydia's fate, and with the backstory of how Georgiana was freed from Wickham, Austen was doing something similar.

I'm not enough of an expert on Georgian literature to know if the rescuing of girls from predatory men with their virginity and honor intact was a cliché or not. But it does appear in late 18th century comic opera. For example, Mozart's Don Giovanni: the title character is the ultimate womanizer, but he has no success with any of the women he tries to prey on over the course of the opera. His seductions are stopped by the timely, chance arrivals of his enemies, his victims get away unscathed, and he pays for his crimes with his life in the end. Or The Marriage of Figaro: the Count's designs on Susanna are thwarted, and he's humiliated and forced to beg his wife's forgiveness.

If stories of womanizers being thwarted and punished, and their female victims saved with virtue intact, were as common in the literature of the day as they are in opera from that era, then maybe Austen used Wickham and Lydia to deconstruct them.

We definitely see some skewering of poetic cliche in the fact that despite Mrs. Bennet's fears/hopes, Lydia's honor is saved with a bribe instead of a duel.

Maybe like the Eliza backstory in Sense and Sensibility, the backstory of Georgiana's near-elopement can be read as a more perfect "literary" example of a girl escaping a cad's clutches. The elopement was thwarted partly by pure chance, as Darcy paid a surprise visit just before Wickham and Georgiana meant to run off, and partly because Georgiana was a “good victim,” whose conscience got the better of her and who chose her family and honor over her whirlwind romance.

But similar luck isn't on Lydia's side, nor does she make the right, “virtuous" choices. Darcy doesn't find the lovers until Lydia has already been living with Wickham, and like a typical reckless teenager, she cares nothing for either her reputation or her family compared to her infatuation with him. So Darcy is forced to bribe Wickham to marry her, Wickham goes unpunished except that he loses his hope of marrying rich, and all the characters have to live with the results of the scandal for the rest of their lives.

By having Georgiana's successful escape from Wickham be mere backstory while foregrounding Lydia's lack of escape, maybe once again Austen was saying "I could have freed Lydia this way – I know the tropes other authors might have used to free her – but I'm a more cynically realistic writer than that, so I won't."

I have no idea if this is valid or not, but it's a theory.

[thelargefrye]

ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )

pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)

genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)

note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.

KIM HONGJOONG

he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school

when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content

he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...

sometimes it works but most times it doesn't

he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year

students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him

some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore

he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway

the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have

you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day

he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well

he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class

a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out

"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off

most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on

your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them

the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating

and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating

until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan

and not just any cardigan

a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself

and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating

the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true

so then some of them decided to confront you both

"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."

you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒

"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"

hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough

it was his

and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends

PARK SEONGHWA

seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration

he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined

but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills

being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at

he wanted to become one to continue her legacy

students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher

he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues

like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy

you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too

but you wouldn't dare tell him

you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly

seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken

and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade

you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter

which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention

it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go

you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was

it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning

"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."

"really?"

"yeah."

well... that did make you feel a little better

and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together

the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that

"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"

"i'm fine..."

"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room

the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room

"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"

"only the overnight ones"

"great"

JEONG YUNHO

eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well

yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.

especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff

he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand

he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings

but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class

even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over

even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials

yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials

even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers

you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time

usually gossiping about students or other teachers

students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time

also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done

however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question

like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off

it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in

some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening

you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants

"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them

the students were too stunned to speak

"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work

"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"

"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"

"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"

"of course"

you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode

once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed

"we really were in just another reality"

KANG YEOSANG

seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian

yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature

a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone

he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher

even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?

no one that's who

students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them

that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school

"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"

"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school

none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade

"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"

yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now

well coming from his students or other adults that is

however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story

he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do

he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you

you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something

"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him

yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving

you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help

yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting

he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face

'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'

yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind

CHOI SAN

eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach

he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes

a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him

like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork

a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared

but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching

very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material

san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work

seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact

"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"

like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off

like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him

he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal

but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀

you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings

mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side

"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"

"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"

you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one

"i have a teacher in mind!"

"who?" "tell us!"

"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"

you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together

"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"

"sure... i'll ask."

"a club?"

"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."

"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."

san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom

"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."

"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."

"of course, if you have any issues let me know."

"will do, thanks!"

that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...

maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all

SONG MINGI

mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have

he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students

science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi

literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class

and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy

like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things

someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀

anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong

very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it

a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look

but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport

so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends

it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects

but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other

whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you

like "what in the world are they laughing about?"

"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear

"yeah?"

"they asked me how long we've been friends"

"w-what did you tell them?"

"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."

you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words

"i-it wasn't like that!"

"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"

you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting

JUNG WOOYOUNG

teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students

you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom

always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes

he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department

like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are

but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job

always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him

they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around

wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad

does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do

some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick

but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between

most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers

including you

wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period

like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class

which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that

however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating

especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you

"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."

"watch yourself, jung."

you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching

"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact

students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff

but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together

and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students

until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school

you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together

however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze

wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder

and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder

you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow

"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend

CHOI JONGHO

eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well

jongho is really in his element when it comes to math

and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science

like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?

oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.

the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches

his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything

it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders

you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen

you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings

but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)

you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in

you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes

and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing

"everything going okay, teacher choi?"

he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier

"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"

"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"

jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"

"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"

"really?"

"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."

"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"

"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"

"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"

"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."

you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing

"thank you, y/n"

you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[cheeseceli]

That must be right

Pairing: Min Yoongi × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, f2l, drabble

Request: can i request a yoongi idolbf! x reader and its just like a fluffy date, they're just dating and didnt really actually confess their feeling yet and like at the end of the date he or reader confesses

Warnings: tzuyu (twice) makes a cameo, suga overthinks a bit, y/n was delulu for a second here, not proofread.

A/n: don't you just love when he smiles | daily click

Yoongi doesn't know what to feel right now.

He should be happy, because oh my God this is happening. But he should also be anxious, because what is he supposed to do now that this is happening? And on top of it, he should be scared, because is this even supposed to be happening?

The way you saved his number as "my love" is a fact that has been spiraling in his head for hours now, since he discovered it. And it is just a silly little detail about your every day life. He wasn't even supposed to know about that. But he does. And now he can't stop thinking about that.

It's also about how you told Tzuyu (who definitely shouldn't have told Suga) you couldn't go out with her since you were having a date with your boyfriend. The boyfriend being Yoongi. And the date being the place you guys should go to in a few hours.

And there's nothing wrong with that, right? Except for the fact that you called him your boyfriend when he is... not your boyfriend. He would love to be, of course! But he is not. Unless he got lost in translation, which he highly doubts, considering how he is always replaying everything you say and do in his mind.

But you called him that. And, in some type of way, you called him your love as well. Never to his face, but you did. And Yoongi has no idea on how much of that he should consider. It could be just a not very funny joke. But you wouldn't joke about it, would you? So maybe he should just behave like nothing happened. Yeah, that's right. He shouldn't even know about those things at all.

So for the rest of the day, he pretends that he didn't discover anything. Everything is exactly as it was. But he can't bring himself to actually forget those. "My boyfriend". "My love". Those sentences were quite harsh to forget about.

You guys are on a date, so why can't you be actually dating? Do you even know that this is a romantic date? Does Yoongi know that? When did the line between friends who are secretly in love and actual lovers blurry itself so hard? It's getting ridiculous at this point. So many questions and very few answers.

He watches as you hold the huge popcorn bucket, trying your best not to drop anything. You were just waiting in line with him, waiting for the movie session to start, but you were so happy. Even when just standing still, your eyes were undeniably full of joy.

Yoongi also didn't miss how you never failed at being close to him. Not on a way to overwhelm him, just to be there. Like you just wanted his company, even if you weren't touching each other. Even if you were in complete silence, even if you didn't even look at each other just yet. You were both there. And that was all that mattered.

Useless to say that he paid absolutely no attention to the movie on the silver screen. He had no idea of who was staring in it, or what it was about. He barely looked at it to be honest. He was looking at you all the time. My boyfriend. My love. You surely acted like there was truth to those words.

For the first time in the past hour or so he looked away from you. He focused his gaze on the movie playing instead, but only because he wanted to reach to hold your hand, and he wouldn't be able to do it if he looked at you while doing so. That was proven particularly correct as he felt you turning your head just to look at him the moment you felt his touch.

He should've looked though. Maybe then he would see how your eyes proved that Yoongi was indeed your love. Maybe just not your boyfriend. Yet. That was soon to be solved, as he was already planning on how to confess the moment the two of you got out of the movie theater.

You were, after all, calling him your boyfriend for a while now. However, now it was time for him to call you his partner. Oh, and he so would do it. It felt right to do so.

And if it feels right, it must be right.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: shut me up

Reminder that this is all fiction! This does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist: @yuyubeans @butnotmontana

Dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics | credits for images 1, 2 and 3

[rtfics]

That glare & Beej showing his love for Lydia.

In the counseling office Lydia says Beej's name once, so he screeches ( a' la the original movie) and binds her mouth. Her expression isn't one of fear or terror -- unlike Rory -- but of "Oh god, seriously, you're pulling this on me again, I could slap you, you jerk" that you have with someone you know well and who can irritate the fuck out of you, but you still want him around.

unmute

Later, Lydia rips off the stitches, proving that her lips weren't actually sewn shut, but the stitches were more like duct tape. Beej didn't do anything that would really cause her pain. And, more importantly, she has the power to defeat his power.

Beetlejuice grants Lydia autonomy over his admittedly massive powers. She apparently doesn't realize this yet -- she's pissed at him for the moment.

But, if this storyline follows logically, Lydia should eventually see Beetlejuice could pretty much force her to do anything, if he wanted. She should, I hope, notice that, as obnoxious and arrogant as he is, he gives her the choice in so many things.

In the counseling session he shuts up her just long enough to show what a coward Rory is -- he knows she'd interrupt. He shows how Rory refused to listen to what Lydia said about not saying Beej's name in order to force her to face her supposed delusion. If Lydia were paying attention she'd see Rory treats her as an inferior, that he thinks he knows what's best for her, that she isn't mature or clear-headed and therefore he needs to control her. Beetlejuice shows Lydia, not tells, that she can handle the strange and unusual and gross, but Rory has no stomach, or spine, for it. When Beej says "C'mere" to Lydia and draws her to him, he doesn't stop her from snapping "Home home home!" and leaving, which we can be pretty sure he could do.

He shows, not tells, Lydia what a lying, conning bastard Rory has been all along, and merely asks -- doesn't tell -- if she'd like to do something about it, and provides her with an aid -- the boxing glove -- to express her feelings.

My personal theory is Beetlejuice needs Lydia to decide for herself whether she warms to him or not. Twice he's made a deal with her and held up his end. Twice Lydia has broken her side of the bargain. But in neither case has he used his power to punish her for it. He stepped aside and helped her reconnect with her dead husband by going to "th' lil' Boys Room." He saved Astrid, not only from the Netherworld but from Jeremy. He saved Lydia from a bad marriage to a user who didn't love her. And, peripherally, he saved her from a life lost in a pill-popping fog, a life Rory kept her in as "an enabler" -- which Beej pointed out in the counseling session.

Sooner or later, Lydia should realize all this. Beetlejuice not shoving it in her face -- "HEY! I saver yer life an' yer daughter's life an' this is the thanks I get?!" -- shows he wants Lydia to come to this on her own, in her own time.

I mean, shit, what potential lover/boyfriend/husband does this?

Once her anger at her life suddenly being up-ended fades, Lydia, being an intelligent woman now free of mind-numbing drugs, should awaken to the strange fact that Beetlejuice has actually been doing things in her interest more than in his.