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runningfrom2am · 3 months

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cold nights // part twenty

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 6.1k (YIKES)

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guyssss guys guys guys omg :,) also s2 only has two parts left!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The air is brisk as it surrounds you in the night, chilling you down to the bone, but with a book in your lap and a blanket draped over your shoulders, you don't mind the cold. Not one bit.

You're reading the same page over and over again- Romeo and Juliet. Act two, scene two. Your monologue. You flip the page, and that's all there is.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.'

You whisper this, smiling softly to yourself. The grass tickles the undersides of your arms and when you look up, you see the stars. Thousands and thousands of them- more than you could count if you were given a pen and paper and a month to try. It's beautiful.

You lay back into the wild grass, letting it consume you. You can smell it as the long blades brush across your cheeks.

"Y/N?" You freeze at the sound of your name, not that you are really moving. You just hold tight onto the air in your lungs, as if exhaling it could light a beacon to you. Your heartbeat was thrumming in your chest- you were afraid.

"Y/N?" The voice comes again. Coriolanus. He shouldn't be here, he doesn't know where you go at night when you need to end your unfortunate days. Why is he here?

You don't move, eyes wide open as you stare at the sky. Maybe he'll go away, maybe he'll ignore the lantern still burning close enough that you could read under its flame. As if.

"Y/N, you have to go." Now you can hear the grass rustling with every slow step he takes, and he's trying to be quiet. Whispering, as if there was anyone here for miles.

"Go, hide. It's not safe for you out here."

You sit up quickly, scrambling onto your feet. He's close enough now that he's certainly seen you. You get no chance to say anything before you realize you weren't in the field you thought you were. Grass covers the ground of the Capitol arena, and alongside the long green leaves, Coryo's scarf is draping down your side, brushing your legs.

"Coryo?" You say, but you're not looking at him. The compact weighs heavily in the pocket of your dress as you spin around, taking in the dark space. Your lantern flickers out.

"Y/N." He says again, and your eyes snap back to him. His hair is short, buzzed almost down to his scalp like the last time you saw him. "Hide. Now."

"But, I-"

It was too late, and quickened footsteps alerted you to someone else coming.

"Come on, come on!" Coryo grabs you by the wrist quickly, pulling you with him toward the exit glowing red in the night as you abandon your book and blanket.

His hand shifts to hold yours, attempting to force you ahead of himself. You want to look back, but he won't let you. The exit feels miles away. You can't take leave- you don't know why you're running with him. You'll be killed. You'll be killed either way.

You fall through the turnstiles, the mocking automatic voice from the speakers going ignored as you hit the ground. You don't know what you fell onto, you look and there's nothing there, but blood begins to pour from three linear wounds in your leg and a gash on your upper arm.

"Are you okay? Hey, are you okay?" Coryo is in your face now, kneeling in front of you and trying to get you up.

You can't speak, looking past him at the faceless shadow following you. Pushing yourself back against the wall, they glide through the gate and Coryo turns quickly, hands raised. "Wait! Don't! He shouts, but has to duck as they swing something at them.

"Y/N- Run!" He yells at you, but you can't move. You curl up against the wall, burying your face in your knees.

You hear the sharp swing of metal in the air. Once, twice, and you're waiting for an impact that doesn't come until you hear Coryo cry out in pain instead.

You feel the grind of cement next to you as something is lifted from the ground.

"I don't want to hurt you!"

Another swing.

And then a cracking noise, and the turnstile again.

"Enjoy the show!"

You look up then, watching just as the shadow hits the ground across the gate.

"Coryo?" You push yourself up using the wall. He doesn't look back at you, but you can see his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths as he stares at the shadow now sprawled out across the ground.

He swings the club again, the cement block disappearing into the grass with a hard thud.

You don't run.

"Coryo, let's go. Please... let's just go." Your voice comes out small, but he still hears you.

He turns, and you aren't afraid. "Y/N-" He drops the weapon and you take an involuntary step back. You look into his eyes, cleared of the blonde curls he recently buzzed off.

Sky blue. Angry. No- baby blue. Worried.

He's afraid.

"Y/N, wait." He pleads with you, hands clear as he takes a step closer. This time, you let him. "Please don't walk away again."

"What did you say?" You ask, brow furrowed at the familiar statement as you take another step back.

"Please, don't run from me."

When you wake, you feel different. You feel your blood pumping quick through your veins as you stare at the ceiling, the sun peaking in through the curtains like usual, but you feel more sick than scared.

It's a welcome change.

Crawling out of bed, you pull a dress on over your pyjama shorts, deciding that would likely be fine since you didn't plan on leaving the house today. Maybe to go out to the meadow, but with sleep still blurring your vision you weren't ready to make any big decisions like that yet.

You felt guilty about ruining the lake day for everyone. It wasn't a bad panic attack, they did have to jump into action the way they did and try to rush you home, but they had. You can't be upset at them, Lennox and Lucy Gray only wanted to protect you.

You wish Maude Ivory hadn't seen you cry.

The hike back is all you can think about while you make your morning tea.

You watched as Sejanus grabbed Coryo by the arm, pulling him back up and into the cabin and shutting the door behind them.

No one bothered to get you dressed again, the priority just being to get you home. Lucy Gray had helped you get your shoes back on, and Lennox practically lifted you to your feet. You were still shaking, but the tears had lessened and you could breathe again.

"Tam Amber, will you go ask the boys if they remember the way back?" Lucy Gray whispered to her cousin and he nodded, running off the dock.

"You're safe. It's just us here." She reminded you as you watched him hurry away.

"But... But Coryo-" You stammered, suddenly shivering.

"I know, I know, Hun." She wrapped the blanket back around your shoulders. "He's gone. You're okay."

"No, no I-"

You heard Tam Ambers footfalls returning, just as hastily as he had gone. "They remember." He nodded to your friend.

"Okay, will you tell them to wait twenty minutes before following us?" She told him and he nodded again, disappearing once more.

"Lucy Gray, it's, it's okay. I don't think they need to wait." You tried to explain, and she had to lean in to listen to you.

"I know, it's okay." Clearly, she didn't know what you were trying to say. "I promise you they can handle themselves, you don't worry about it." But you weren't worried about them. You wanted them to come.

"E-Every one can master a grief but he that has it." You huff through shaky breaths, frustration at their lack of understanding building in your tone. Why couldn't they see that he was helping you?

Lennox and Lucy Gray look at each other on either side of you, but say nothing.

You looked back at the cabin over your shoulder as your brother and best friend guided you away, the rest of the Covey in tow.

You hadn't seen either of the Capitol boys since.

Coryo walks into Sejanus's room, expecting him to still be sleeping. It's early, the sun just peaking over the mountains, but he's not there. He was out late the night before, so maybe he hadn't come home. He did mention something about possibly staying with Lucy Gray after her show.

They would only be in town for another couple of weeks, he was getting down to the wire of time he had to earn your trust back. He was fucking it up royally, and he wasn't even sure he could go home without any conclusions. He just needed to talk to you, if it was him who was hurting you, and you said the best thing he could do was leave and never look back, he would do it in a heartbeat. He'd never recover, but he'd be willing to do anything to know you were happy. Or at least getting there.

But you hadn't said that. Remembering your conversation at the lake, he didn't feel like all hope was lost. Even if Lucy Gray and Lennox wouldn't let him anywhere near you. He couldn't give up yet.

This is why, in all honesty, he is lucky that Sejanus didn't make it home last night.

He saw his friend writing in a notebook the other day, so he opened the bedside drawer to try and find it. He'll just leave a note saying he's going for a walk, and Sejanus likely won't suspect he's going to go try and talk to you and come stop him. If he even wakes up from his hangover with enough time to find the note and then catch him.

When Coryo opens the drawer, that's not what he finds. Well, it is, and he pulls the pad of paper and pencil out, but his eyes catch on something else. Cash. And lots of it.

He looks over his shoulder at the door before picking it up and picking through it. It must have been in the tens of thousands. Why would Sejanus bring so much money to District Twelve of all places? He wishes he could understand rich kids.

He sits on the bed and opens the notebook, pausing again when he sees some scribbled notes.

'Hob, 10 pm, 08/17

Broken fence, storage shed. 4 am, 08/18

Lennox ?'

Brow furrowed in confusion, Coryo turns the page. Nothing else. No other context clues as to what on earth this could mean. It was meeting places and times. He looks around again as if he could find answers in the walls of the small bedroom.

Nothing.

He quickly shoves the notepad back into the drawer and leaves. Maybe he didn't need to leave a note after all.

Coryo had to move quickly. Collecting yet another peace offering, some kind of treat, and then make it to your house before Sejanus or Lucy Gray can intercept. He does it, but there was still the biggest obstacle yet- your brother. He prays as he knocks that Lennox doesn't open the door.

When there's a knock on the door, you leap from your bench on the back porch, quietly slipping back in the door. You were home alone, only for a few hours while your mom handled some business in town and Lennox went to hang out with some friends. Your mother didn't want to let you, she wanted you to come, but you insisted. You were an adult, you could be home alone for a few hours.

Who on earth would knock on the door right in that window of time?

Sneaking into your parents' bedroom, you peek out of the curtains to try and look at the front door.

No. This is ridiculous.

You force yourself to straighten up, smoothing the front of your dress and taking a deep breath. You're home. You're safe. No one at the door is here to hurt you.

You pace up to the front door just as another quick three knocks ring out. Deep breath. You twist and pull the handle.

"Y/N." Coryo grins, relief washing over him like a wave that only lasts a moment. "Here, these are for you." He holds out a small bouquet of flowers before you get the chance to slam the door in his face.

You can't help the smile that pulls at your lips when you look down at the hand he extends to you.

Butterflies. The very same ones you felt the first time he gifted you a flower.

"Coryo, you don't have to bring me flowers every time you see me." You giggle, and he smiles. The relief is back.

"Well, I'd like to. You deserve nothing less."

You look up through your lashes at him, slightly shaking your head. Your smile doesn't slip as you examine his features, checking his eyes. As blue and clear as the lake you swam in last week. "Would you like to come in?" You offer, unsure of yourself up until the point the words leave your mouth.

"I would love to." Coryo smiles so wide you feel as though your own heart could burst. You're doubting yourself for ever being afraid of him, but as he passes you into the threshold of your home, you remember why. Deep breath.

"You came at a good time." You joke, closing the door behind him and stepping into the kitchen as it's laid out next to the front door.

"Oh?"

"Well, Lennox isn't here to push you down the front steps." You giggle. Maybe you shouldn't be telling him you're home alone. Your heart stops for a beat.

And then he laughs, and everything is okay again as you pull a vase down from atop the fridge, placing it in the sink to rinse off. "That is true." He agrees.

"But, I'll warn you, Tybs is here somewhere. He's always watching." You look at him over your shoulder as you place the flowers down and run the tap into the ceramic vase.

"Noted." Coryo chuckles, looking around his feet to see if the cat had come to say hello.

He watches you as you turn back around to focus on your task. Watching you wash dishes was a privilege he never even considered that he wanted, but now that he had it, he was more certain than ever that he could never let you go.

It was so good to see you have some peace.

"I brought some things for a picnic, I was hoping you could take me to the meadow you told me about. I'd really like to see it." He asks as you dry off the outside of the vase, proceeding to fill it with water.

"I was going to head out there myself, actually. That sounds perfect." He watches your hair move as you nod, popping the flowers into the vase and turning to show him. The smile on your face makes his heart melt. He didn't know that feeling was real.

"How do they look?" You ask, quickly adjusting some.

"Lovely." Coryo grins and your lips pull together, looking back down at the bouquet in your hands.

"Thank you, by the way. I realize I didn't say thank you." You say, carrying the vase out to the living room and he follows while you place it on the coffee table.

"You don't have to." He shakes his head. "To be honest, I didn't even expect you to accept them."

"Oh, would you like them back?" You ask, worried.

That's not what he meant, you were just too sweet. "No, I picked them for you."

"Would you tell me if you did want them back?" You ask, wiping your hands off from stray water on the front of your dress.

"Probably not." He admits with a smile that matches yours, shaking his head. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

"Here we are!" You grin, flipping out the quilt you brought from your room for the two of you to sit on.

Coryo looks around. It's a big open field, with trees and hills in the distance. He did imagine it would be beautiful at night like you said, but he never thought that during the day it would be as much of a sight. After years and years of coming to this exact spot, the grass is shorter here. Already conditioned to not grow where this family could come and sit during the days and nights of your childhood- you had built the perfect little spot to lay down a sheet.

You're already sitting down cross-legged on the hand-sewn material when he looks at you again. "Thoughts?" You ask, tipping your head up at him. "You look like you're thinkin'."

"Yeah, yeah. It's beautiful. This isn't what I pictured."

"No?" You ask as he sits down next to you, adjusting on the blanket and placing his bag on the corner.

"No. Nothing like this." He answers. "It's much bigger."

You giggle, looking around. "So you understand what I was missing, then."

"Yeah." He breathes the word out with a slight nod, but he's still staring at you even as he pulls everything out of his bag. Some cookies, and the book.

"So," You start with a smile, and he looks up at you. You look down at the book, your train of thought completely leaving you when you see it. "You brought it..." You mumble, reaching out to touch the cover.

He lifts it to hand it to you, but you quickly pull your hand away as if the book could bite. You look between him and the leather-bound book in his hand, cheeks flushing. "I-I don't, I'm sorry. I don't know why..." You laugh awkwardly, looking instead out to the woods that surround you.

Your trauma had consistently manifested in the strangest of ways. That book had done nothing to hurt you, you knew that, but it did remind you of the nights and days you spent reading it before the games when Coryo was locked away in the hospital. The memory almost makes you sick.

"Don't be." Coryo shakes his head at you. "I get it." He puts it down on the other side of himself, just out of your view. "I just... I know you usually read out here. So I wanted to bring a book too. It's the only one I have here."

You smile nervously and nod. "I'm glad you like it." You look over your shoulder when you hear a soft 'meow' from within the grass. "Someone followed us."

You let out a soft gasp, smiling as your cat emerges from the tall blades next to you. They were only about knee height to you, but they completely swallowed his small form. "Tybs!" You grin, opening your arms to him and he crawls straight into your lap. "Good King of Cats, there you are." You scoop him up, kissing him on his fluffy head.

"Y/N," Coryo says, drawing your attention again. You hum, face still pressed into Tybalt's fur as you hug him. "I... I was hoping we could talk about some things, if you feel safe enough. I know with just me it's scary but there's some things I really need to tell you before I have to leave and no one will let me talk to you, so now feels like my only chance."

"Okay." You nod, lowering Tybs down onto your lap again, holding him close. "But... I just, I don't want you to have to deal with me if I... I don't know, panic. I can't promise you I won't, and it's embarrassing."

"That's okay." He assures you, scanning your face closely even as you avoid his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, so if you can't talk about it it's totally okay. I can try my best to say what I need to say without scaring you."

"No, no I... There's stuff I have to say to you too." You confess to him. "I just, it is so frustrating to not be able to talk about anything without feeling like... I can't communicate what I need to say. Or like I'm dying."

Coryo nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I'll be as patient as you need me to be." He promises. "I can't imagine what that's like for you." He adds, almost whispering. You have always expressed yourself so eloquently through words, and in a way, the games, he has taken that from you.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod, focussing on petting your cat. You can feel the vibrations of his purring against your body, and that helps already.

"It's hard." You admit quietly. "I still sometimes feel like no one wants to listen to me when I can talk about what happened. It's always the same thing." You shake your head, letting out a slight laugh. "Do you know how many times I've heard 'You're safe now'? Or 'you're home now. It's okay'? Because it's a lot. And I know that. I know they're just trying to help, but... It's more complicated than that."

"There's no guidebook on living with this stuff." Coryo agrees. "That's what your father told me."

"He's right." You mumble. "No one knows what to do, Twelve has never had a Victor before. I'm lucky number one, and it feels like nobody sees me as human anymore. Not even Lucy Gray. Not even my family."

"I do."

You smile sadly at him. "Coryo, I..." You sigh, shaking your head and grounding yourself in feeling Tybalt rub his head against your palm, begging to be pet. "Is this real?"

He furrows his brow slightly with confusion.

"I mean, I don't-" You sigh. "I feel like I am being so daft but Sejanus says he thought you actually cared about me but that was back in the Capitol so I just need you to be honest with me."

"Y/N..." He shakes his head at you, fully in disbelief. "I have never lied to you. I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

"No, not- not like that." You sigh, shaking your head. "I mean, the way you acted. The things you did- I feel like I don't know who you really are."

"You know me. Better than anyone." He assures you, voice soft with sincerity. He doesn't want to be offended, but he'd still like to understand.

"You said... you said you wanted to start over." You say after a moment, looking into his eyes and loosening your grip on your cat as he adjusts the way he's laying over your bare legs. "So... can we?"

Coryo smiles, giving you a quick nod. "My name is Coriolanus Snow." He starts, and he can see how closely you're watching him, a small smile growing on your lips. That's not exactly what you meant, and he knew it. "But you can call me Coryo. That's what my friends call me."

How could he miss the apples of your cheeks turning slightly pink under the sun?

"I was born and raised in the Capitol, and I'm an orphan. My mother died in childbirth, and my sister didn't make it. My father died here, in Twelve. I live with my cousin, Tigris, and our Grandma'am, and my whole life I have been starving." He admits, swallowing as he monitors your reaction closely. Sadness. Empathy. "One time, during the war, I even ate a jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach." He smiles as he says it, it's meant to be funny- to try and keep you with him as he speaks.

He raises an eyebrow at you as you can't help but giggle. "I'm sorry, that must have been awful."

"It was certainly... pasty." He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "But then, the moment I first laid eyes on you and was told you would be my tribute, I knew that everything was going to change."

You think back to the reaping, and how he must have watched. One of many memories that haunted you now doesn't seem all that scary, knowing he was with you even then.

"I was angry, I knew Highbottom was trying to sabotage me- to give me no chance at winning the prize but I didn't know that the universe was just bringing me to you."

"Coriolanus." You grin, tilting your head at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

"Did you know that I was named after a play?" He asks, a teasing smile pulling at his lips knowing that the only reason he knew that was because of you.

"Oh? What's it about?" You humour him, and he chuckles shaking his head at you.

"Well, it's a long story, really, but it's about a man in ancient Rome who gets put in a position of power, and makes some pretty big mistakes." He quotes as much of what he can remember you telling him. "Then the people of the city hated him, and he was cast out because he betrayed people who trusted him."

You don't say anything, hanging on every word of his interpretation.

"And sometimes I feel like it's a fitting name." He continues, voice lowering with seriousness now. "But I don't think I am like him, because I regretted my mistakes the moment I made them. And I think that if he was more like me, and had someone who made him want to be a good man, his story wouldn't have ended too tragically."

You feel the telltale burn of tears brimming your eyes, and Coryo watches you closely. Your breathing is steady, the ghost of a smile still on your lips.

"Are you okay?" He asks quietly, reaching up to push your hair from where a piece is beginning to fall into your eyes. He's careful not to move too quickly, or even to touch your skin.

You nod, briefly drawing your lip in between your teeth while you think. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Coryo smiles, almost in disbelief. "You forgive me, then?"

"I'm a Victor." You state, although your whisper sucks almost all the confidence out of your voice as you focus on Tybalt purring against your lap. "If I expect forgiveness in return I need to give it, don't I?"

"You don't need forgiveness from anyone." He insists, smile fading. "You didn't do a single thing wrong."

"I think I did." You admit, lip beginning to wobble as you try and remember, looking down at your cat and stroking his back almost obsessively. "I should have gone back for Wovey, I should have stayed with Jessup, and... and I think I killed those boys, Coryo. I haven't told a soul and it's been killing me."

When you look back up at the boy next to you, his heart breaks. You hadn't done anything wrong; you even tried your best to be a pacifist when thrown into the Hunger Games, of all things, and still, you found things to blame yourself for. "Do you remember what I told you?" He asks, very slowly and carefully reaching out to swipe away a tear from your cheek. "That we all do things we aren't proud of to survive. That doesn't make you a wicked person."

"Is it true?" You ask, resisting your gut and it wanting you to lean into his touch. "That... that I killed them?"

"No." He answers. "I did. I gave you the compact."

"But I used it."

"You had no choice." He reminds you. "That was my fault, and I'll take the blame for it but I won't lie and tell you that I regret it."

You take a sharp breath in. His eyes. Look at his eyes.

"I did it to save you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I couldn't live with myself if I let you die. You saved my life first, and you could have ran but you didn't." He wouldn't let you beat yourself up about something that was his fault. "You could have saved yourself, but you gave up that chance for me. I couldn't let you die. It would be such a waste for the world to lose a girl like you."

"Coryo... That's not right." You say, shaking your head. The way your face fell made him nervous. "You can't tell me you did it for me. That is not as noble as you feel like it is."

He felt stupid for telling you that, despite its truth. You wouldn't like it, he knew that. "I know, but I don't want to keep anything from you. I have to tell you why I did the things I did, I have to get you to trust me again. I'd speak every thought I'll ever have if that's what it takes."

You take a shaky breath. "What about when you killed Bobbin?" It took you a moment to even get the words to leave your mouth- and he waited all the while. Powder blue. Patient.

"I... okay." Coryo nods to himself. "I was scared, I didn't want to do it. Sejanus was injured, I remember realizing he couldn't walk. I tried to talk to the boy, but he wouldn't listen..." He trails off, not daring to break eye contact with you. "I felt... desperate. I was panicking, and then... powerful. That's the only way I can describe it. That I wasn't helpless anymore, the way I always had been."

His words are terrifying to you, but you can't look away as you tuck Tybalt closer to your chest. He's stopped purring, but he's breathing against you, craning into your touch. It's actively keeping you grounded through your fear.

"Then I looked at you," Coryo continues. "And I thought that I should have let him kill me instead, because maybe that would have hurt you less."

You swallow the anxiety sitting heavy and thick in the back of your throat. If it was you, you would have thought 'Yes. I should die before taking the life of another,' but since it was Coryo, your gut reaction was telling you to say no; to reassure him that he was only protecting himself and it was scary but he had done the right thing. The realization that he outweighed your own morals and the fact that as much as you wanted to say that, you weren't sure you would stick to it yourself now was a sick combination of things to grapple with all at once.

"Stop, please." You say quietly, feeling your heartbeat picking up just behind your ears. You don't even notice when you had looked away, but your eyes are shut tight.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Coryo quickly promises. "But I need you to look at me, okay? Can you do that?"

When you don't immediately respond, he takes the calculated risk of rubbing your back. It didn't scare you last time, it almost seemed to help for the brief moment you were able to look at him.

"I'm sorry." You say quickly, voice cracking.

"Don't be." He says softly, feeling how quickly you're breathing with the hand he has so delicately placed on your back.

It almost makes him cry, too, not knowing what to do to help. It was his fault, again, and this time there was no Lucy Gray or Lennox to come running. He looks around anyway as you cling to the cat in your lap. Tybalt. Quickly, he looks down to the book at his side.

"Oh sweet Juliet," He says, no better ideas surfacing on how to help you. He would make a fool out of himself if he must, but he had to try. "Thy beauty has made me effeminate, and in my temper softened... valor's steel." He tries to remember, and prays that he remembered it correctly.

Under his hand he feels you shake, and he tries to catch your eyes again. It takes him a moment to realize that you weren't crying harder- he hadn't made it all worse again. You were laughing.

He grins, chuckling slightly. "There she is, hey, hey... Look at me."

You turn your head, your smile already mostly gone by the time your eyes reach his.

"I don't remember it, can you refresh me?" He asks, trying to give you an adequate distraction.

"That... that scene? Uh-" Your mind is short-circuiting, running a million miles a minute to try and remember more details. What came before, what came after?

"Anything. Any part you want."

"Okay. Okay..." You nod, trying as best you can to take a deep breath. "Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night. Give me my Romeo, and, when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night..."

Just like at your interview, Coryo watches your anxiety begin to melt away as you recite every line. Something about it was so calming to you. It forced you to focus on something other than the tightness in your chest and the tremor of your hands.

"Atta girl..." Coryo nods, proud as he keeps rubbing your back. "Are you feeling a little better? Do you want some water?"

"I- I can get it." You nod quickly, reaching for the bag and digging for your water bottle, careful to not disturb the cat on your lap.

"I'm sorry." He says, withdrawing his hand so you can drink in peace. "I hate that the games have done this to you..."

You seal up the bottle again, wiping your lips on your wrist and shaking your head. "No one can come out of that unchanged, but... let's talk about something else, please."

"I just... I hope you know how much I truly care for you. That's real. That will always be real." Coryo promises, allowing you to put the bottle down before taking your hand.

His hands are slightly cold against the one of yours he is holding, and you attribute that to your no doubt increased blood pressure. There's nothing but pure, undiluted honesty in his eyes.

"I read your note." He continues, wanting to explain but you look away quickly, letting out a slight laugh. He's never seen your face so red.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said the things I did. It was foolish and I was feeling so confident knowing that that day very well may have been my last and-"

"It wasn't foolish." Coryo smiles slightly, moving so he can look in your eyes again. "It was sweet, and all this time I have been dying to tell you that I love you. I do." The confession has his heart pounding as if he were the one who is still coming down from a panic attack.

For the first time maybe in your whole life, you were speechless. It didn't feel like all the love stories you had read in books that made your heart flip the way it just had- it was more. It was your story, and no quote felt quite fitting to describe your own feelings. They were all yours.

"Is that... is that okay? I don't want to scare you but-" Coryo doesn't even get the chance to finish before your lips are against his.

You are kissing him. You're real, you're alive, and he is finally getting that second kiss that he never thought he would have. You were still his.

Your cat had long abandoned his post on your lap by the time Coryo processed this and moved his hands up to grasp your cheeks. He's as gentle as he possibly can be, he knows he's being somewhat irrational to imagine you just vanishing from his hold like you had consistently done in his dreams. This wasn't that; your lips against his, your unbelievably soft skin under his hands.

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." You mumble against his lips, having finally found something close enough to express it.

This was real, you were there, and Coriolanus would never let you walk away again.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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oceisastar · 1 year

Note

kaveh soft dom guy back again for more (you're feeding into my delusions)

mmmnm i don't know if it's because i'm ace or what, but any smut that is mean/degrading is an instant turn-off for me:// not my style whatsoever!! and it's disappointing how of the few domtop reader posts there are that barely any are just,,, gentle and loving or smth.

plus plus the fact that there is very little tender content relating to some heavy kinks or wtv. like tentacles. tentacles r so hot but i'm turned off 9/10 times bc it's either outright noncon, dubcon, or just downright mean:>

ofc i don't mean to shame anybody into that, but just like piss lol. some ppl are turned on by it just as it's an instant boner killer to others :shrug:

but enough nonsensical rambling: what about soft body worship w like kaveh or cyno or whoever else<33 just running your hands up and down their sides, mindful of the room's temperature and with a blanket in reach. when gooseflesh begins to follow your questing fingers, you tuck the blanket around him.

and just when he least expects it—all warm and cozy, but undeniably horny out of his right mind—, you flip the two of you so that he's straddling your thigh, blanket still tucked tight around him.

"ride me," you murmur, hands trailing up his quivering thighs,,, but your strap isn't on, and he looks at you with a pout. you grin. "ride my thigh, honey."

you swear you feel his cunt clench atop your tensed thigh, but your own thoughts are soon lost to the hazy high of sweet moans and whimpers fluttering past kiss-bitten lips.

hehe i may become a regular in your thirst boxes<3 if u don't mind, what characters are your favs? or just any you'd like a thirst for

MDNI

tw mention of trauma and issues related to consent //

hi again!

no same tbh. I go into the genshin smut tag being like la la la and then I see the reader degrading / humiliating the character in every single fic and I’m like 😐 it makes me uncomfortable! it’s an instant turn-off.

I’m not gonna get too into it but I have a very complicated relationship w physical touch / sex so seeing such a strong oversaturation of violence / aggressive control / shame in sex is really discouraging tbh. bc then it’s like do people even exist who would be kind and gentle and respect my boundaries?? then there’s the whole commentary on sexism and cisheteronormativity blah blah.

yeah unfortunately most kink content on the internet has major issues related to consent which is :/ it’s just not good because of how common it is. like on tumblr ppl generally are good abt tagging their stuff but media literally anywhere else has such an issue w it. I’m into lots of stuff but consuming content where it’s not centered around shame / degradation / humiliation is very hard to find, which is unfortunate.

I think kink definitely has its uses and can be major catharsis, especially in relation to trauma, but there needs to be a balance and variety in the intensity and type of dynamic in which kink is practiced / enacted (animated or real content).

omg I swear are you a poet?? your writing is so beautiful! kaveh is so sweet and soft that’s so tender 🥺 I love the concept of wrapping him up and making him so cozy. just cupping his face as his eyes water from how much pleasure he’s feeling.

my fave character is kaeya :)) he’s my baby boy and I really adore him. I’m so soft for him and he’s very special to me. transmasc Kaeya is canon as far as I’m concerned. idk if u write for women (understandable if u don’t!) but I also really love kujou sara and candace. women w strong integrity / morals are so <3

you can pop by again:) just don’t burn yourself out!

#also just to let u know I prefer to work c*ck to strap !! that’s me tho so if ur thirsting for urself write w/e u want #bc imagining I actually have a c*ck generally gives me gender euphoria hahaha #you’re welcome to pop by again! just be warned I’m not regularly on this acc #like I’ll leave for months at a time #just to warn u!#genshin smut #sub genshin #sub kaveh #Tw #kaveh x reader #kaveh smut #kaveh

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thatredheadwriter · 2 years

Text

Nurse Parker

tasm!peter x reader

This is a little blurb I wrote for one of my favorite writers, @agnesamarantheastwood since she’s not feeling so hot and requested a little fluffy Peter-taking-care-of-reader fic, and I was happy to oblige. I wrote it super quick, so please ignore any errors. It’s very short and very fluffy and pretty darn cheesy. Get well soon, V. Love you!

This is a SFW preference for (implied female) reader with TASM!Peter Parker. This work does not contain smut, however it may contain mature language or themes, and as a rule my blog is only for those over the age of 18 (or the age of majority in your locale). As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon level violence.

Warnings Include (but are not limited to):

mild swearing

illness

literally nothing else, it’s fluffy as hell

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

You shed your raincoat as you shut the door of your small Manhattan apartment and resisted the urge to shake your head like a dog. Rain was commonplace during the hellish transition from winter to spring, but that didn’t mean you had to like almost drowning every time you went to work.

The clearing of a throat surprised you, and you looked around the corner to see Peter lounging on the sofa in a pair of gray sweatpants, your worn copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands. He’d slipped on his reading glasses and the kettle on the stove told you he’d made himself some tea.

“Hey, what are you doing home at,” you paused to check your watch, “four-thirty on a Thursday?”

He set the book aside, “Well the rain seems to have cleared the streets, so I decided I’d come spend the afternoon with my girl, if that’s alright with you.”

“That’s always alright with me,” you smiled. “Just let me put my things away and grab my book, and I may just join you.”

He hummed happily, picking up his book once more. You adjusted the bag on your shoulder and gave a little sniffle to clear your nose before retreating into your shared bedroom.

You eventually made it back out to Peter, having slipped on a t-shirt, one you bought with Spiderman’s logo on it as a joke a few months back, and a pair of Peter’s flannel pajama pants. They were far too long on you, but they looked too warm to resist, so you’d gone with the simple fix of just rolling them up at waist a few times.

“Don’t you look positively cozy,” your boyfriend smirked when you settled in on the couch across from him, plopping your feet in his lap.

“I look like a drowned rat,” you scratched at your nose absentmindedly as you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you before grabbing your computer. When you looked back at Peter, he was giving you a funny look. “What?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” he lied, “I just thought you were going to read.”

You scoffed, “I was, but I totally forgot about this website that I promised Jay I’d take a look at when I got home.”

“Oh, okay,” he nodded, closing the book in his nimble hands and unfolding himself from his position on the couch. He went to mess around in the kitchen, but you were only vaguely aware of his presence.

“Hey, Pete, can you grab me the ibuprofen please? I’m starting to get a headache,” you called without looking up from your screen.

He didn’t answer, just set it down on the coffee table beside you along with a glass of water and a fresh cup of tea.

“You didn’t have to make me tea,” you grinned as you took the mug in your hands, savoring the warmth that seemed to seep into your bones. Peter still didn’t answer you, instead rolling his eyes at you and shaking his head.

The rest of the evening passed in comfortable silence, you working on the computer, Peter reading or scrolling on his phone. It was nice, it was warm. He even offered to cook dinner, but you declined on the premise of not wanting another run-in with the fire department. Instead you two had leftovers from dinner at May’s on Tuesday night.

Peter didn’t complain when you chose some cheesy sci-fi horror flick to watch after dinner, and even offered to wash the dishes instead of dry them like usual, since the one thing he hated more than crime in his city was the feeling of wet food on plates.

That night, you found yourself tossing and turning, struggling to get to sleep. Peter’s body heat was too much, but the room was too cold. Nothing was right and you couldn’t do anything about it. Finally you slipped into a restless slumber.

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. It wasn’t all that unusual, sometimes Peter would go out for pre-dawn patrol, or you wouldn’t have to be in the office until later. Usually you didn’t mind so much, but the way your whole body ached and your head was pounding made you want to curl up into a ball and never move again.

An involuntary groan left your mouth when you rolled over, the morning sun only serving to irritate your headache further. You weren’t expecting a still-shirtless Peter to bound into the room, concerned look on his face.

“Hey, you’re up,” he smiled softly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and rubbing a hand along your exposed arm.

“I feel like shit,” you grumbled, tossing your other forearm haphazardly to cover your eyes.

“I know,” he sighed.

“What are you still doing here?”

“I called in. Well, actually I texted my boss, last night. Said I was sick and needed the day off.”

“What are you talking about Peter? You don’t get sick,” you sat up, fumbling for a glass of water to soothe your scratchy throat. Peter reached out and grabbed it, handing it to you.

“Well, when you came in last night, I could tell you were getting sick,” he admitted, looking guilty, “You were sniffling, you were wearing my pajama pants instead of your shorts, you had a headache, and you smell funny.”

“I smell funny?”

“Yeah, when people get sick, I can…smell it, kind of.”

“Why didn’t you tell me last night?” you asked, somewhat angrily.

“I knew you’d just try and take some medicine and push through it. Which is why I emailed your boss and told her you’d be working from home for today,” he winced as he said this, preparing for your response.

“You what?! Peter, you had no right,” your voice was strained and Peter shook his head.

“I know, I know. But I knew you’d never take the time off yourself, and I worry about you. So please, be angry with me if you have to, but just stay home, just for today.”

You looked at his sweet face and all the anger drained out of you, replaced by exhaustion.

“Ok,” you said meekly, earning a small smile from your favorite person in the world.

He helped you to the living room where he repeated his actions of the last night, bringing you medicine, tea, and water, and helping you get set up with your laptop before disappearing back into your bedroom. He reemerged a few minutes later fully dressed.

“Where are you going?” you asked, a slight whine in your voice, as Peter pulled on his shoes and rain jacket.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to the pharmacy. Gonna get some medicine for you, and then I was going to pick up some pho from that Vietnamese place you love around the block.”

You sniffed as your lips curled up into a smile, “You’re the best ever.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys.

“No, really Peter, you’re the best. Thank you.”

He came back to the couch from the entryway and pressed a kiss to your forehead, a kiss to your nose, and a kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered into the top of your head.

“I love you, too. Don’t forget the chopsticks, bug boy.”

thatredheadwriter’s Masterlist

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader fluff #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker oneshot #tasm!peter parker blurb

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lxngbottom · 3 years

Text

It’s Alright | N.L

in which the reader uses her safe word with neville.

warnings: smut, use of safe word, slight mention of toys (lmk if there are more!)

this is my first imagine/blurb or what not. i literally haven’t used tumblr since elementary school so pls bare with me.

word count: 813

—

to say that you and neville had an adventurous sex life would be an understatement. you two were always trying new things, by consent of course.

you never felt worried or stressed with neville, as he always made sure that you were comfortable with whatever new position or kink you were testing out. with much trials & tribulations, you guys had figured out what worked and what didn’t.

per neville’s request, he put in a safe word to be used in times of need. you agreed of course, but never thought you would ever have to use it. even when he had used toys on you for the first time, and you swore you could faint from the overstimulation, you never gave in.

but now, your vision was white, and you could barely focus in on neville’s perfectly rounded face. he was thrusting into you at what you thought was an impossible speed, his hands gripped harshly onto your hips, definitely leaving bruises for you to wake up the next day and find. he moaned heavily as he was approaching his release, perfectly consumed physically and emotionally in the sight of you.

“my pretty little girl, taking me so well...” he cooed, his hand lifting up to stroke your cheek.

it surely surprised you how dominant neville could be at some points, but at the end of the day, he always took care of you. he never forced you into things you didn’t want to do. you were his girl, and he would never want to inflict any sort of harm on you.

you were trying so hard. trying so hard not to give in. you two had been at been at it for hours, and the overstimulation was depriving you of feeling comfortable. but, you really didn’t want to disappoint neville. of course, he would never be disappointed in you when it came to sex.

you had been enjoying yourself at first, the overstimulation being quite exciting and pleasurable, but now, your body ached and you could barely even understand what was going on. every praise that left your boyfriend’s lip was simply a blur, and unfortunately, he hadn’t noticed yet.

his thrusts were becoming more desperate, more harsh. and you felt yourself slowly fading into blackness.

“r-red...” you stuttered out, your heavy breathing seemingly blocking the verbal plea.

you became confused when neville didn’t stop. but, you knew he was probably just lost in his own pleasure.

so, with the little strength you had, “red! neville! stop!”

with that small cry, he pulled out of you. he threw himself up against the bed post near the edge of the bed, and his breathing became even more uneven and harsh than it was before. you quickly sat up, pulled the duvet over your sweaty, naked, sore body. the emotion of the whole situation was beginning to take affect on you, and all you could do was let out a small whimper.

neville began to beat himself up mentally. how did he not notice you were uncomfortable? how could he be so selfish?

“darling... what happened?” he asked gently, reaching out to touch you, but quickly pulling back when he saw the emotional state you were in.

you sniffed, still attempting to hold back tears. “t-t-too much...”

neville nodded his head, completely at a loss for words, but worry and concern filling his veins. all he ever wanted to do was make you feel good. he never wanted anything like this to happen.

“i-i’m s-s-sorry...” you stuttered out once more, letting a single warm tear fall onto the blanket that covered you. neville quickly shook his head, and scooted closer to you, still fighting the urge to hold you in his arms, “no, y/n. do not apologize. i put that safe word in place for a reason. an orgasm is rubbish to me if that means you’re uncomfortable.”

you finally looked up at him, and you were met with his loving eyes. just looking at him had always brought you much comfort, and he was more than you could ever ask for.

“can i hold you?” he asked sheepishly, still worried that you may be angry with him. you quickly nodded, the simple thought of just being in his arms warming you up.

he shot you a small smile, and positioned himself right bedside you. he joined you under the covers, and instantly wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer. there was no gap in between the two of you by the time he got comfortable.

“i’m glad you said the safe word, flower. i never want to make you feel like that ever again.” he admitted, his hand running through your hair. he pecked your forehead lovingly, “i love you.”

you looked up at him, “i love you too, nev. i’m sorry if i worried you.”

“it’s alright, darling. it’s alright.”

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom #neville longbottom smut #harry potter smut #neville longbottom imagines #neville x reader #imagine #smut #fanfic #fandom

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romioneficfest · 3 years

Text

Right Here, Right Now

Title: Right Here, Right Now

Prompt/Day: Rooftop (Day 10)

Tumblr Name:

Rating: T

Brief Summary: Ron and Hermione share a tender moment under the stars during the summer following the Battle.

Any possible triggering/warning tags: Mild language

Word Count: 1,229

It was a dry, clear summer night and just chilly enough for Hermione to remember to pull on a jumper before she went outside. The jumper itself was thick and cozy, maroon in color, and had a large “R” printed on the front.

She sat with her knees tucked up against her chest, body tilted forward from the precariously steep angle she was sitting. She left the window to her bedroom unlatched, always fearful that she'd unintentionally lock herself out on the roof without her wand in tow. For good measure, she patted the back pocket of her jeans to ensure that her wand was still in place.

Hermione relaxed her muscles and tightened her hold on the wool blanket that was draped around her shoulders. She was grateful that she had conjured up a second blanket to provide a cushion of warmth between her bum and the coarse shingles on the slanted roof.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the city darkened, taking on a blue hue as the world exploded into a plethora of stars that looked like scattered moondust across the sky.

Hermione basked in the peace and quiet, appreciating that her parents lived far enough out of the city to avoid the massive light pollution.

It had been a little over two weeks since her family had returned from Australia, and she had spent the majority of that time earning their trust back and making up for what they had lost. They worked hard to restore her childhood home to its former glory, removing all traces of destruction from the last year.

She wasn't sure if the restoration would've been possible without Ron.

Ron. Her boyfriend.

"Ron," she whispered aloud.

She couldn't get enough of saying his name, and she closed her eyes, picturing her ginger-haired best friend turned romantic partner with his deep azure eyes and lazy grin that she adored so much.

"Hey, you."

Hermione's eyes snapped open, her head turning sharp in the direction of the familiar voice. Ron was perched on her windowsill, poking his head out through the small opening.

"Ron." There she goes, saying his name again. "What are you — how are you here?"

Ron held up a small device in his hands that resembled a silver cigarette lighter, and comprehension dawned on her.

The deluminator.

"I heard you — your voice. In here.”

Hermione couldn't mask the smile that spread across her lips. "I should’ve known.”

Ron crawled fully onto the roughly arched tile, taking the open spot next to Hermione on the blanket after she scooted over to make room. She held one end of her blanket out for Ron, inviting him into her warmth. Although she wanted him to be comfortable on this cool night, she also wanted him closer for her own selfish reasons.

"Nice jumper," he remarked with a smirk.

Hermione’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red, almost matching said clothing item. In an effort to retain some composure, she kept her eyes trained on the pattern of stars in the unobstructed sky. The distant, glittering sparks spoke to her in different ways over the years, providing a sense of calm during her summers at home in between the chaos of her years at Hogwarts.

Hermione loved stargazing. No singular experience was the same, and this one was the best because she finally got to share it with Ron.

“What were you thinking about when you said my name?” Ron questioned, tossing the device once into the air and catching it.

Hermione laughed and gave him a funny look. “I would’ve thought that was obvious.”

He nudged his shoulder with hers. “Doesn’t mean I still don’t want to hear it from you.”

Her eyes gleamed up at him, his own shining with the ambient sky glow, before leaning her head against his shoulder. She felt him wrap the blanket tighter around their connected bodies. "I was thinking about how much I wished you were here with me right now."

"How come you never mentioned that you liked to, quite literally, live on the edge out here?" Ron teased.

"You didn't ask."

"It's hard to ask about something you didn't know existed."

After all of these years of knowing each other, it was amazing that they still had things to learn about each other.

"I don't think you have any idea what this spot has meant to me over the years.”

In the next moment, Ron hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her head. His eyes flickered at her with a different emotion, and a serious expression crossed his face. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?"

Happiness streaked through Hermione like a shooting star, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. "If it's anywhere near as much as you mean to me, then...yeah. I do."

He leaned closer, almost so close that she could taste his lips. "Can you promise me something?"

Hermione’s eyelids were already fluttering closed. "Anything.”

"Next time you feel the urge to whisper my name, send me a Patronus, yeah? I'll be here faster than a Firebolt."

Hermione barely had time to nod before pressing her lips against his, surrendering herself to bliss. His hands were sliding up her shoulders, cupping her cheeks, before finally tangling in her mass of curls. He felt so warm and gentle, and this moment was perfect. It was as if all of the previous moments she spent out here on this rooftop had served a greater purpose — to allow her to unearth a joy unlike any she had ever known.

Right here, right now.

When Hermione pulled back from his embrace, a set of words escaped her lips, with so much ease that she wasn’t quite sure why she had never said them before. "I love you, Ron."

The look of pure adoration he sent back to her was enough to make her heart melt. His eyes glistened with tears, and she could see him visibly gulp as he processed her words.

Ron furiously wiped his tear-stained cheeks, ducking his head before speaking roughly. "Fuck, I don't know why I'm crying."

"Ron Weasley..." she quipped, astounded by the vulnerability she was witnessing.

"Oh, shut it."

Hermione only grinned in response, her eyes once again finding the awe-inspiring constellations, soothed by the silence that surrounded them.

"Hey." Ron’s whispered voice diverted her attention back to her ginger-haired man.

He brushed a single curl from her face, his mouth curving up into a brilliant smile. "I love you too, you know."

A thrill of joy rippled through her, and she made an incredulous ask before she could stop herself. "Really?"

Ron harrumphed, looking mildly dissatisfied with her response. "Always the tone of surprise."

To avoid Ron seeing her flushed cheeks, Hermione flattened her palm against the back of his neck and crashed her lips to his, allowing nothing but happiness to consume them.

When they broke apart for a second time, Ron chuckled with a candid smile. "Do you realize how mental we are? We spent how much time not doing this?"

Hermione giggled, only snuggling closer to him as they settled in for a night under the stars, sharing mutual moon-kissed faces.

Nothing meant more to her than sitting on a rooftop with her best friend, her lover, her forever.

#hpfic #romione ficfest 2021 #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #Queue up for the Dragon

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agathaslittle · 3 years

Text

Bad Dream - Little!Reader x Agatha Harkness

Summary: You slip into your headspace and have a bad dream while Agatha isn't home.

Requested by Anon: "Wondered if you’d write something for either 30, 38 or 50 from those fluff prompts?"

30. “I’m never going to leave you again. I promise.” 38. “You’re safe now, I’m here.” 50. “Its okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Word Count: 996

Trigger Warnings: Age Regress.

A/N: Instead of choosing only one of those prompts, I decided to use all of them, hope you don't mind.

Requests are still open!

Sometimes Agatha disappeared.

Not in the most literal sense of the word, but that's how you felt.

A few times a year the witch would just tell you that she would be gone for a while and leave without saying much more. You knew this was because she didn't want to involve you in her plans, as Agatha was afraid someone would use you against her. So the less you knew, the better it would be.

Most of the time she came back in a week or so, always more powerful and clearly proud of herself, and even though part of you didn't understand why the witch was so obsessed with getting more and more power, you were also proud of her.

But then you started to regress and the witch started being even more careful about when she left, always making sure you were big before she left.

And then WestView happened. The biggest surge of power Agatha had ever felt in her entire life.

You were about to say you felt yourself slipping that afternoon when she gasped, getting up from the table without even finishing her lunch. She looked so anxious when she told you she had to go, that you didn't have the heart to stop her and trap her there with little you.

Surely you could hold out for only a few hours, the time the brunette promised you she would be gone.

Yes, you could handle it. Anything to see her happy.

And her idea really was just to scan the area, gather some information, and then go home. But when Agatha realized it, she was already cast as one of the main characters for the disturbing sitcom of none other than Wanda Maximoff.

And to make matters worse, time passed differently inside the Hex, and then in the blink of an eye it was nightfall, making all the neighbourhood to fall into a deep slumber, but Agatha couldn't close her eyes, thinking about you.

She didn't want to bring you to the madness that was that town, or risk the other witch hurting you in any way. But at the same time the brunette also couldn't sleep, knowing that she had made a promise that she would be back soon. Not knowing how you were was consuming the witch from the inside out.

And the truth was, you weren't doing very well.

In the beginning it was easy to stay big. You sat on the couch to watch a series so you would stay focused on something so the hours would pass more easily. And soon she'd would be back.

As the scenes played on television, you began to feel restless, squirming on the couch, seeking Agatha's embrace. Shaking your head you got up, going to your room to get Scratchy Junior.

I won't slip, you tried to convince yourself. You just needed something to cuddle with, that's all. Only until Agatha was back.

But then night came and as you had to accept that she wasn't coming back. The realization made you want to cry, sapping your willpower to stay big.

The tears only started to fall, however, after you layed in bed and fell asleep, dreaming that your mommy would never come back and that monsters could get you now that you were all alone.

You knew you shouldn't pester Agatha when she was away, unless it was an emergency. But as your eyes opened, still blurry with tears, and all you saw was darkness, it felt like a very urgent emergency.

With shaking hands you opened her necklace pendant, coming face to face with the mirror she had enchanted for you. It was connected to the mirror inside Agatha's brooch, the most convenient object for her, as she always took it with her. That way you would always have a way to communicate with her, without worrying about phone signals or whatever.

Agatha didn't need another second after hearing little you cry "m-mommy" to teleport back home, her heart breaking as she appeared beside the bed, watching your body shake under the blanket from the force of your sobs.

And your crying got even worse when the blanket was pulled down to uncover her face, making you scream in despair "MOMMY!" and thrash against the arms that suddenly enveloped you.

"You're safe now, I'm here," Agatha hugged you even tighter, waiting for your heart to slow down and for you to realize she really was there with you. You stopped struggling and buried your face on her neck, still sobbing heavily.

"I-I thought you w-wouldn't come back anym-more, mommy," you stuttered the almost incomprehensible sentence, letting more tears wet the old-fashioned dress she was wearing.

"I'll always come back for you, baby, always," she kissed your temple and then your cheek, tasting the salt of your tears. She had caused this pain in you and wouldn't forgive herself if she did it again, “I'm never going to leave you again. I promise."

"You won't let the monsters get me, r-right?" You pouted.

"If any monster tries to get my girl, I'll kick their ass," she smirked.

You giggled, whispering an adorable "okay then," before yawning, the tiredness from crying finally taking its toll.

"It's late, angel, go back to sleep, I'm not leaving your side," Agatha told you, stroking your hair soothingly.

The mention of the time made your eyes open again, searching hers, "did I wake you mommy?"

She shook her head, "It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway," she kissed your eyes as they closed once again, "but now I know I'll sleep very well with my baby beside me."

Agatha knew that sooner or later she would have to take you inside the Hex, not wanting to risk leaving you alone again.

But that's a problem for tomorrow's Agatha, she thought as your soft breath lulled her to her own sleep, her arms still protectively around you, so no monsters would ever reach you.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #marvel #wandavision #imagines

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ringmyheart · 3 years

Note

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

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writingfeatherduster · 3 years

Note

Alrighty, so this is an idea I've been having about the bartender for a while: if you remember sans' workshop, I actually thought about the idea of sans being gone, and grillby finding the key and beginning to explore the skeletons' past.

Just a random idea, and I also love how you write your stories, I can literally imagine the scenario happening❤.

Oh, I really like this one! I hope you don’t mind that I went in the angst direction with this. It turned out to be a little long and might not have been exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway! Also thank you so much for the compliment, I’m thrilled that you can enjoy it.

I Never Knew You. I Never Will.

Word count: 2951 Warnings: Genocide route and all that entails Summary: Grillby can’t find Sans after the evacuation. When he finds himself in Sans’s lab, his world comes crashing down around him.

Preface: This takes place near the end of a genocide run. The remaining monsters have been evacuated to the True Lab by Dr. Alphys. Determined to avenge his brother, Sans left the safety of the lab to judge Frisk.

Grillby felt like he was floating as he made his way through the crowd of monsters around him. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. He watched from outside himself as he searched the crowd for familiar faces, stumbling as he was pushed aside by a monster rushing to greet their spouse. People were calling out for each other, sobbing as they found their family members or wailing as they realized their children hadn’t made it. It couldn’t be real.

It couldn’t be.

He couldn’t see any of the Snowdin guards. Where were they?

No, he couldn’t understand, this wasn’t real.

He couldn’t find his niece. He heard someone screaming her name above the crowd and realized it was him. Where was she? Where were Grillby’s brothers, his parents? He hadn’t seen them in so long. They had to be okay.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be real.

It was.

Reality came crashing down. Grillby snapped back into awareness and choked, sickened by the lingering smell of dust as sheer panic gripped him. His friends were dead. His family was dead. They’d been fine just yesterday, how could they be dead? What kind of monster- no, what thing could do this? He struggled to breathe as he felt his whole body seizing up. It was all he could do not to puke, head spinning as he leaned against the nearest wall. He couldn’t breathe, his vision was spotty, was he dying? Was this what it felt like, for your soul to break apart?

Grillby sank to his knees, trails of steam pouring from the corners of his eyes as he sobbed. Everyone he loved was dead.

No. Wait. He was forgetting someone.

Where was Sans?

The fire elemental jerked his head up, frantically scanning the crowd. Sans had been the one to come for him and tell him to evacuate to Hotland. He’d taken Grillby’s hand and told him there was no time to explain. They’d taken a shortcut to Alphys’s lab, skipping Waterfall to be sure Grillby wouldn’t get hurt by the rivers and rain. Sans told him a human was attacking every monster in sight. He told him to stay put, then left to help with the rest of the evacuation. It had only been after the fact that Grillby realized Sans had been wearing Papyrus’s scarf, and it was covered in dust.

Alphys’s underground lab had quickly filled with frightened monsters. The remaining members of the royal guard had spread the word and were getting people out as fast as they could. Sans could only take one person at a time using his shortcuts, but he still managed to get dozens of people out. Despite it all, they weren’t fast enough. The human was destroying everything in its path. They got to Waterfall, Hotland, and the Core faster than everyone could get out. Survivors started showing up covered in lingering dust.

Grillby forced himself to his feet. Sans had to be nearby. All the survivors had been moved to safety, hidden underground. There was no reason for Sans to still be searching. There was no reason for him to be anywhere but by Grillby’s side, safe and sound. Where was he?

The bartender spotted Alphys handing out blankets and walked over, desperation gripping his soul as he stepped in front of her. “Dr. Alphys, have you seen Sans anywhere? He was helping with the evacuation. He should be back by now.”

Alphys stopped in her tracks. “H-he isn’t here?” She looked around, nearly as worried by the news as Grillby. “He s-said he was taking a- a shortcut home. He was o-o-only going to grab some- some more blankets and food.”

Dread enveloped Grillby’s soul, threatening to break it. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. “Why would you let him go back out there?!”

“The h-human is, um, in New Home,” Alphys stuttered out in her defense. “Sans c-c-can teleport. He doesn’t h-have to get, um, anywhere n-near the human. It should b-b-be safe by now. I’m sure, um, h-he’s probably safe. He’ll be back any moment now! I’m s-sure of it!”

She didn’t sound sure enough for Grillby’s taste. He pushed past her, continuing his search as he went from room to room. Sans should have been back. What if he’d exhausted himself and couldn’t teleport again? What if the human doubled back, searching for survivors, and found Sans?

A flash of red caught Grillby’s eye. A long piece of red fabric was left draped on one of the medical beds. Papyrus’s scarf.

Grillby pulled out his phone, shakily picking the dusty scarf up. Surely Sans had his phone on him, right? The phone rang… and rang… and rang…

“Congrats, you’ve reached the voicemail of Sans the skeleton. Picking up the phone is too much work right now, so I probably won’t answer if you call me back. You can leave a message, but I probably won’t check my voicemail either. Just text me. Or call Papyrus. See ya.”

The fire monster wanted to cry. He called again and again and again. It went to voicemail every time. He tried texting him, begging Sans to answer…

But nobody came.

Grillby was moving towards the elevator of the lab before he truly comprehended what he was doing. Alphys saw him and rushed after him, grabbing his sleeve. “W-wait! Where are you going?”

“You said Sans was at home, didn’t you?” Grillby answered quietly. “I’m going to find him.”

“You c-can’t! It’s not safe-!”

Grillby turned around, his flames burning hotter as he snapped at her. “But it was safe for Sans to leave, was it?! Don’t be so hypocritical! If you’re truly concerned about the safety of monsters, let me go!”

Alphys fell quiet, trembling a bit. She let go of Grillby’s sleeve and hunched over. She hated being yelled at. Grillby immediately felt guilty, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I just-”

“N-no.” Alphys wiped at her eyes and adjusted her glasses. “You’re right. I sh-shouldn’t have let Sans go. Let, um, let me find a r-rain jacket for you. It will be dangerous for y-you to get through- through Waterfall on your own.”

Grillby was quiet for a moment, then just nodded, letting her leave. She came back moments later with a rain jacket, rubber boots, and an umbrella. The fire monster took them and thanked the scientist, heading towards the elevator. He didn’t say goodbye. In the situation they’d found themselves in, a farewell felt like a curse.

Grillby managed to make it through Waterfall mostly unscathed, folding his umbrella as he walked into Snowdin. The place felt like a ghost town, every window dark and every home abandoned. He tried not to think about it as he approached the skeleton brothers’ house. The door was standing open, filling Grillby with dread. He choked down another wave of panic as he stepped inside the dark living room. “Sans?” Grillby called out, voice feeling muffled by the oppressive, eerie silence. “Sans, are you here? ...god, please be here.” He pulled out his phone again as he walked up the stairs, dialing Sans’s number and waiting.

A default ringtone went off in Sans’s room.

The bartender should’ve felt relieved, but if anything, the sound scared him more than the silence. If Sans was here, why didn’t he answer the phone? Respond to the texts? Grillby tried the door and found it locked, struggling with the knob despite knowing it was useless. “Sans! Are you there?! Please, answer me!”

But nobody came.

The panic Grillby had been holding back consumed him. The fire that made up his body grew as he stepped back, leaning against the railing before moving forward and kicking down the door.

The room was empty. Sans’s phone was ringing on the bed, abandoned.

For the second time that day, Grillby found himself sobbing, kneeling on the floor as he desperately tried to force himself to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t have lost Sans, too. He didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t even get to tell him…

Dizzy with exhaustion, Grillby looked up at the phone again. On the bed next to it was a piece of paper, folded around something. Dragging himself to his feet, the bartender stumbled over, sinking to the ground again as he picked it up. A key fell into his lap. It was small and silver, and it looked old. The note it had been wrapped in had a drawing of the house, with an arrow pointing to something in the back. As Grillby’s gaze drifted down to the base of the drawing, he choked on another sob.

Hey Grillbz,

If you’re reading this, you probably did something stupid like go to my house by yourself with a homicidal psychopath on the loose. Don’t worry, I get it. You did this last time, too. Anyway, this go around, I’m not gonna be here when you show up.

That key you’ve got goes to a basement behind the house. Go in there. You’ll figure out for yourself where I’ve gone.

When you do, please don’t follow me.

I love you, Grillby. I’m sorry.

~Sans

Grillby read the note over and over, crying as the implications sank in. Whatever Sans was doing, it didn’t sound like he planned to come back. Well, if he thought that Grillby wasn’t going to go after him, he was dead wrong. But first… the bartender had to figure out where Sans was going.

It had taken a minute to get the door behind the house to open. The lock was old, and it stuck for a moment while Grillby jiggled the key to get it in. It finally swung open with an echoing creak, light from outside barely able to illuminate the inside of what looked to be a small home lab of some kind.

Grillby stepped inside, drawn to the large machine in the back. The damage to the odd machine and the char marks on the floor did nothing for Grillby’s anxiety, but the lack of dust around it at least assured him that it probably wasn’t the dangerous thing Sans had been alluding to. The fire monster stepped away from it, moving towards the desk and the piles of paper there. The first thing that caught his eye was a drawer slightly ajar, something inside reflecting the light that Grillby gave off. He opened it the rest of the way, immediately recognizing the badge inside as he picked it up. “This… This is the insignia of the royal scientist. Why would he have this?” Grillby mumbled out loud. Now that he was thinking about it, why would Sans have any of this? It didn’t make any sense. Sans was a sentry, and he had been the entire time Grillby knew him. The skeleton had never mentioned living in Hotland or having a scientific career. The bartender was starting to question how well he knew his best friend, setting the badge back in the drawer and turning to the papers.

The first page was written in some sort of font that Grillby couldn’t understand. Looking at it made his hurt, so he moved it to the side, skipping over it. The next page was thankfully readable. It described something called ‘DT’, and the effects it could have on a monster’s magic if infused properly. The records of the experiments had been partially burned, but most of what Grillby could read was too complicated for him to understand. He never thought Sans was dumb, but the complicated equations were far beyond anything Grillby had seen before. He hadn’t guessed Sans had that level of intelligence, or put that level of work into any one project.

The last few pages had the most burns out of all of them. Some sections were written in that headache-inducing language, with a lot of the notes Grillby could read seemingly added later. It looked like a comparison between the effectiveness of multiple attacks before and after the use of DT. The last few notes made Grillby burn lower, nearly going cold.

In conclusion, DT can be used to temporarily increase stamina and allow a monster to use their magic more effectively, summoning attacks and creating patterns like nothing seen before. However, drawing that level of magic from a monster’s soul can cause their soul to become unstable, tearing it apart. A monster could not withstand the effects of DT long-term without turning to dust.

I could handle it, just for a little while. If it came down to it, I could use the machine on myself and keep the kid from hurting anyone else.

Papyrus… Alphys… Grillby… 🕈︎✋︎☠︎☝︎👎︎✋︎☠︎☝︎💧︎… I’m so sorry.

“No,” Grillby whispered, his eyes widening in panic. “No, no no no no please tell me you didn’t- Sans-”

Sans was going to fight the human.

No matter the outcome, Sans was going to turn to dust.

Grillby ignored the sting of the rain as he sprinted through Waterfall. He didn’t have time to worry about his HP. Sans used that machine on himself. He’d managed to build it, surely he could reverse it if Grillby just reached him in time. His mind was reeling, trying to catch up with everything he learned. Sans had once been involved with the royal scientist. Was that how he knew Alphys? And what was with that strange handwriting? Why would Sans hide it from him? The rain didn’t bother Grillby this time, but he felt a sting in his soul as he realized just how little he knew about Sans. Everything he learned about him throughout their friendship… was it all a lie? Just a cover-up for whatever Sans had done in the past? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

Grillby’s footsteps echoed in the corridors of New Home as he sprinted down the main path. Alphys had said that the human was in New Home somewhere, undoubtedly heading towards the castle. If Sans were to face them, it would be there. He only hoped he could reach him in time.

Sans fell backward as he felt the human’s blade slice through his ribcage. Looking down, he watched in distant shock as blood started to seep from the wound. He knew the whole battle had been pointless… Frisk would just load their save file each time they died, coming back over and over until they killed him… but it still felt so surreal. The fight was over. Sans lost.

“Heh… heh heh…” The skeleton laughed breathlessly to himself as he looked up. The human was expressionless, uncaring. How? How could they have so much apathy, after everyone they hurt?

It didn’t matter. Sans forced himself to his feet, coughing as blood dripped from his mouth. It would be fine. Frisk would reset, everyone would come back, and then they’d die again. The warm golds and oranges of the hall began to blur together as the bloodloss made Sans woozy and he stumbled, leaning against one of the pillars. If he closed his eyes…

He could almost pretend he was sitting at a familiar bar, the bartender smiling at him as he cracked jokes and drank from a ketchup bottle.

“Welp. I’m going to Grillby’s,” Sans said weakly, tears filling his eyes.

“Papyrus… do you want anything?”

Footsteps echoed in the final hallway as Grillby ran, desperation gripping his soul. He almost ran right past it. He skidded to a stop as his mind processed what he’d seen. His mind went empty and numb, and he turned around, walking a few paces back the way he’d come.

At the base of one of the pillars was a blue jacket, sitting in a pile of dust.

Grillby screamed.

No. No, it couldn’t end like this. The fire elemental fell to his knees and picked up Sans’s jacket, wailing as he held it to his chest. When he did- God, he was covered in dust. Sans’s dust. The thought made him drop the jacket and turn away, gagging and throwing up until there was nothing left.

Grillby wrapped his arms around himself, the humidity in the room increasing as he sobbed. He thought of Sans’s smile, his jokes and laughter, the way he always winked at the end of a bad pun. Was any of that even real? Did Sans enjoy being around Grillby, or was it all a façade? Grief and betrayal settled heavily over the bartender, threatening to drown him. He dry-heaved again, choking as he desperately fought for air.

I love you, Grillby.

Grillby... I’m so sorry.

The words washed over him, pushing those feelings away. It didn’t matter. Whoever Sans had been before, it didn’t change what the two of them had. Grillby wouldn’t let it.

Grillby picked up Sans’s jacket as he stood, shaking the dust off and putting it on. The heat in the room became sweltering as the fire monster was filled with rage. That human... that human had taken so much from him. His friends, his family... the skeleton he loved. They couldn’t get away with it. He wouldn’t let them.

The fire monster walked towards the end of the hall, eyes burning with murderous rage. That human was going to pay for what they-

The world stuttered.

Grillby hummed to himself as he wiped down his bar, getting ready to open for the day. Hm, that was strange. Lifting the cloth, he noticed that it had quickly gotten fairly dirty. There was dust all over Grillby’s hands, coming off on the towel. He shrugged to himself as he wiped them off and got another towel.

It was probably nothing.

Thanks for reading! This one accidentally turned out kind of long. It’s pretty stream-of-consciousness, but I’m too busy to edit it today and I’m too eager to post it to wait.

Reblog or leave me a comment telling me what you think! Asks are open if you would like to leave a prompt for me, and let me know if you want to be on my Undertale fic taglist!

#dustyfic #undertale #grillby #sans #undertale grillby #undertale sans #sansby #grillby x sans #ask answered

61 notes · View notes

ally-127 · 4 years

Note

What about first kiss with Wonwoo and poor baby is nervous because he really likes you

colour

pairing : barista!wonwoo x reader word count : 1.6k warnings : none! like one curse word used in a positive context, i guess. music : ‘love like that’ by lauv a/n : a little bit of domestic life here with mr jeon ++ happy comeback day everyone!! i‘m enjoying the album so far i hope you did too!!

in your life, there weren’t many things that were vivid, dynamic.

everything was set with a clear outline. you graduated with a degree your parents had chosen for you. you settled down in an apartment downtown of seoul, got a job in a company your father had recommended for you. you lived your life from nine to five every day exactly how your parents had wanted you to live.

all of it was fine-tuned to your parents’ desires.

you were beyond grateful for all they have given you. but there was a lack of colour, of taste, in your life. your day-to-day activities ran mostly on a flat curve, all in monochrome and it made you shrivel up, almost resorting to ignorance.

and that was until you met wonwoo.

you labelled meeting him as a coincidence but later he labelled it as fate, to which you laughed in his face and said,

“there’s no such thing as fate.”

you met him at a small café that only took a five-minute walk from your apartment. you were the only customer when you arrived at half-past nine in the morning, making a dark-haired barista and a load of empty chairs and tables your only company.

you didn’t mind, though.

there were many things you were used to.

solitude was only one of the many.

that was until the dark-haired barista—whom you eventually found out was called wonwoo—began to strike up a conversation with you after he handed you an iced latte you’d ordered.

for the first time since high school, someone paid attention to you and took interest in you. it was extremely sad, now that you thought about it, but it was nothing short of a life-changing revelation.

it was so mundane, the small talk you had with him, but at least it brought some colour—feeling—into your life.

you visited the café more often after that.

you learned that he was a quiet one, one that kept to himself around others, often only murmuring under his breath and barely looking them in the eye when he served their drink by the little counter at the end.

you were the only one, well you hoped you were the only one, who could see his feline eyes light up with recognition once they landed on your face.

it was when you visited him one day after he closed up the café that you realised he actually owned the place.

he laughed, brushing away your awe and told you it had been a dream of his to open one since he was a teenager. his hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans then, raven hair falling across his arched brow as he looked down at the ground, embarrassed.

an unknown feeling, something of a slight thrill, if not excitement, seized your entire being when he asked you, quietly, if you wanted to have dinner with him that night.

you had hints of this excitement over the past month you began to see him during your short run for coffee, in a rush for work or after work, when you made use of the wifi there and completed your work in your usual seat by the window.

just as the conversations between you and him became deeper, so did your friendship.

you two basked in the warmth of after-hours in the café, diving into topics like the childhoods you experienced in different regions of the country or things like the books you enjoyed reading or the food you liked eating.

it was simple. like cookie crumbs, the two of you unintentionally collected bit by bit about each other and became friends who knew every single one of each other’s secrets.

not long after, wonwoo started to take you to places in seoul you’d never been to, even if you had lived there your entire life. he introduced you to new people—his close circle of friends—and had unknowingly opened up your mind, your heart.

before you knew it, you were too engrossed by everything about him to back out from any social setting anymore.

his kind-hearted nature was irresistible to you. his sweet smile was like pure serotonin, the only drug you ever needed on a bad day. you found yourself needing to be around him more often than not.

you liked watching the crinkle of his nose when you told a bad joke and feeling the shy glances he threw your way on the days you decided to put in more effort into your appearance.

thanks to wonwoo, you had finally broken out of your shell but it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t feel some sense of self-doubt, especially when you were constantly surrounded by new friends night after night for drinks and dinner.

so you decided to ask him as you two sat by the ocean in busan.

“why me?”

“what do you mean?” his hair, tousled by the prevailing wind, blew across his forehead when he turned his head to meet your eyes.

the picnic you had was situated by the cliff, on a grassy plain behind the rocks where the view of the sea could still be seen. your recent convenient store purchases of gimbap and cup ramyeon and your favourite fizzy drinks were littered across the blanket, waiting to be consumed by two hungry adults.

it was his idea to take a train here for a weekend getaway, renting a car and even booking a hotel room.

whether he booked one or two, you didn’t ask.

“on the first day we met, why did you decide to talk to me? why even help me at all?” you sipped on your drink, the sweetness bringing about nostalgia from the past of when you were younger and had a sweeter tooth than now.

“to be honest,” wonwoo scratched the nape of his neck. “you reminded me a little of myself back in high school, so confined within the walls of your own mind.”

before you could defend yourself teasingly, he added,

“and you were beautiful, more than anyone i’d ever seen.”

with that you were left speechless.

“wonwoo, i—“

“i know everything between us right now is strictly platonic,” he began. “but you have to hear me out on this.”

you nodded.

“the thing is i-“ he averted his gaze from you to the blues of the waters below as he said, barely a whisper. “i like you.”

your lips parted, your blood rushing like rapids in your ears. “wonwoo.”

“i like you,” he said again, in case his words got lost in the wind.

you took a moment to digest it.

his deep voice, his tall frame, his broad shoulders. he was attractive, and hell of course you knew that. anyone with eyes would.

with wonwoo, however, it was beyond that.

your safe haven where you went to just let go, to be free, wasn’t a place.

it was by wonwoo’s side, quite literally.

throughout the many mental breakdowns you had over the course of your job, he was the first one who came to mind when you were in need of relief. to be frank, you probably knew wonwoo had your heart as soon as you laid eyes on him.

you loved him before you even knew it.

the crash of waves and seagulls squawking away into the open led you out of your reverie.

his eyes, squinted from the sunlight, was still aimed at you. his teeth nibbled on his bottom lip, his fingers fidgeting. it was a habit he had, especially when he was nervous.

there was something that snapped in you that you just thought, fuck it, leaned over to cup your hands under his jaw, and pulled him in. you didn’t touch his lips, yet.

you let your mouth linger by his for a moment, your eyes fluttering.

he took a sharp inhale between your lips, insinuating that his nerves had not calmed.

you simply laughed and pressed your lips on his. the impact made you fall into his embrace, your body falling atop of his clumsily. his lips were soft on yours, slowly stretching into a smile as if he’d just realised the girl he wanted was kissing him. his arms wound tight around your waist to tug you closer.

his sugary taste was addicting, the skillful tease of his tongue across your bottom lip flaring up foreign sensations deep within you. arms wrapping around his neck, you remained in this position for a hot minute, till you both ran out of breath.

pulling away for air, you held yourself up with hands against the blanket.

“i love you,” you whispered into his ear.

after hearing that wonwoo flipped you over. his face bore a surreal glow when he hovered over you, flashing his pearly whites at you. “i changed my mind.”

“how so?” you raised a brow, a smirk teasing your lips.

“i don’t like you,” he lowered himself down to whisper into your ear.

“you don’t?” you smiled even more, knowing exactly what he meant.

“yeah,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck. “i looooove you.”

“you corny prick,” your chuckle was vibrant, like the blue of the sky above. it reverberated, prominently, against his chest, a melody he never wanted to forget. your fingers threaded through his soft hair, savouring the feeling of his steady heartbeat against your own.

“says the one who kissed me without saying anything first,” he offered grin of his own as he rose back up.

“actions speak louder than words.”

“they do, don’t they?”

just like that, everything you wanted, colour, had bled into your life like the prettiest of paints.

#kwritersworldnet #seventeen #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo drabbles #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

@unfortunatelyevent a late birthday gift for you! special thanks to ava and peachy for giving me this idea :)

When Rhodey got accepted into MIT, he was fifteen, set to turn sixteen when he went there. His family held parties for it, his mama cried, and his dad called about every friend that he’d ever made to tell them the news that his boy was going to MIT.

Outwardly, you couldn’t tell that he was fazed by anything. He got registered for classes, signed up for a random roommate, and kept track of getting his textbooks. His dad bought him a crewneck, told him to start saving up for “the brass rat” ring, and said that he was so excited to help him move in.

Rhodey’s terrified. He doesn’t get sleep, has recurring nightmares about failing out, and he’s much younger than everyone else.

“You’re only two years younger, honey,” Mama says, her hand brushing away flour on his face as he helps her bake cookies. “It’s not gonna be that bad.”

It’s that bad.

Everyone knows more than him, no one talks to him, and he’s nervous as all hell.

He cries for two hours when his parents and his sister leave, telling him to remember to call or write. He thinks that’s the only thing that’ll keep him sane.

He’s one of the younger ones in his engineering class, and someone asked him why he’s taking such hard classes.

“Because this is...my major?” Rhodey answers, confusion written all over him.

“Oh, we thought you played basketball or something,” the other guy says, as if that’s all he can do.

Rhodey doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want them to know how much it burns to hear that, so he just nods and says his coordination is shit.

His roommate also hasn’t moved in yet. Or he has. He has. His name is Anthony, but Rhodey literally never sees him except for when he’s a blanket-burrito in his bed or when he traipses in from spending all night at a frat party or studying at the library.

They say hi to each other. Rhodey asks how things were. “Fine” is the usual response, followed by “I’m gonna go to bed.”

He’s never felt more alone.

He tries not to call his parents often. A lot of people get home-sick, right? But he doesn’t think that anyone else wants to call their parents every single day.

“So, what fun things have you been up to?” Dad asks over the phone. “My boy been partying out all night?”

“I’ve just been focusing on studying,” Rhodey mumbles. “Not a lot of time for parties.”

“Your roommate okay?” Mama asks. “What’s his name again...Anthony?”

“Yeah, he’s alright. I don’t see him much, he stays out late a lot.”

“Even on school nights?”

“Even then, mama,” Rhodey says. “Listen, I gotta head to lunch, but I’ll call you later this week?”

“Be sure it’s not on Friday, we’re headed to Jeanette’s band concert! We love you, Jim!”

“Love you too!” he responds, hoping to god they can’t tell how sad he is when their phone calls cut off. He misses his home, misses waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs in the morning, his mom kissing everyone’s foreheads as they rush out of the house to school or work.

He hates it here.

But he can’t leave.

His chest gets tight when he imagines calling his parents or telling them at a holiday party that he doesn’t want to go there anymore, he’s not ready.

Would his scholarship be guaranteed two years later? No. They would ask him why and he can’t tell them the real reason why. He can keep up with schoolwork no problem. In fact, that’s the least of his worries.

It’s just so goddamned lonely. His roommate isn’t anywhere, no one talks to him, and he doesn’t know anyone in Boston.

He walks back into the room, and Anthony’s sitting on his bed. It’s the first time he’s actually seen him.

His hair is everywhere, he’s looking at Rhodey for the first time and he looks so young. Just like him.

“Are you eighteen?” he blurts out. “You really don’t look like it.”

“I’m, um, sixteen,” Rhodey says. “And you...?”

“Fifteen,” he says quietly.

“You’re fifteen and you’ve been out every night?!”

“I’m mostly at the library!” Anthony defends. “Friday is for the partying, but mostly the library!”

“That’s good to know,” Rhodey says faintly.

“And you’re in college, why aren’t you going to parties with me?” Anthony asks.

“I don’t have time, Anthony!”

“No,” he says. “You are not calling me Anthony, that’s so stupid. Call me Tony, everyone does.”

“You know a lot of people at this school?”

“More like they know me,” Tony says with a shrug.

“How so?”

“What, you haven’t seen my dad on magazine covers or anything?”

“Uh...am I supposed to?” Rhodey asks. “He an actor or something?”

Tony snorts, pulling out a magazine that he’d obviously nabbed earlier on.

On the cover is Howard Stark.

Rhodey looks between Tony and the face on the cover.

“Oh. Shit.”

Tony cackles.

“Rhodey, I think I’m going to like you. How’d you get that nickname?”

“Wouldn’t stop following my older cousins around, they nicknamed me that as word-play off of ‘roadie’.”

Tony snorts.

“That’s so lame. I love it. Hey, listen. I gotta go get a book for one of my projects, you wanna come with me? I know that one of your classes needs a book, right?”

“Yeah, my writing class. Wants some biography.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

Tony...he’s a good conversationalist. For once since he’s gotten here, Rhodey isn’t letting the impending panic of being alone consume him. He walks easily instead of nearly on his toes around campus, and his eyes aren’t darting everywhere as Tony tells him about something stupid that happened in his early morning class.

“You know who you’re doing your biography assignment on?”

“Has to be someone who’s had a profound effect on your life. I don’t know who.”

“Scientist or what? What are you studying?”

“Aerospace engineering.”

“Holy shit, you’re smart,” Tony swears.

“Says the son of a genius billionaire.”

“Yeah but I don’t touch aerospace with a sixty foot pole,” Tony says. “Jesus, you’re incredible. How did you even know you wanted to do this?”

“I’ve always liked the myths and stuff behind space, and I liked how we discovered more and more over time,” Rhodey says. “The moon was cool as shit.”

“Or was it...faked?”

Rhodey shoots him a look, and Tony’s cackling.

“You did not.”

“Who knows? I come from a very rich families. Rich families buy politicians and also cover up every single scandal. Who knows what I know?”

Rhodey looks over at him, eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh my dear,” Tony says, holding a hand to his chest. “You have so much more to learn about your new friend.”

Friend.

That makes him feel better.

He finds a book on Humphrey Bogart.

Bogart has not had a profound effect on his life at all. Ever. He’s never even seen a movie with the guy in it, although it’s the only book that he can find that looks remotely interesting and the library is about to close.

He reads about Bogart quite often. The guy’s...something. Grew up high society, his parents sucked, the typical Hollywood story.

Although he said exactly what was on his mind, which made him popular with the press and unpopular in the business.

It’s intriguing.

It kind of reminds him of Tony, honestly.

The paper itself isn’t due until the semester is over, and the book is over three hundred pages, so he has time to read it.

Tony and him become...closer. Tony hangs around the room more, and Rhodey stops being so lonely, although he still misses Philadelphia badly and calls his parents every week and occasionally talks to his sister.

He always gets a strange look from his roommate, but it never lasts for very long.

Finally, he gets a question from him.

“Why do you always call your parents?”

Rhodey looks at him in surprise.

“I...miss them?”

“Why?”

“They’re my parents. I love them. What, do you not like your parents?”

Tony blinks.

“Uh, no I love them. I guess. They’re just...busy a lot.”

Rhodey doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t have time as Tony charges forth and asks if he wants to help him present a rocket for one of his clubs.

Halloween comes upon them quickly, and Rhodey has a gigantic test to study for the night of. Tony’s been trying to convince him to come to a costume party with him for the better part of a week, and he was so close until the professor sent out a letter that essentially said, “Surprise! Oops!”

So Tony does something unanticipated: he stays home.

Tony, the life of the party who wouldn’t miss one for the world. Tony, the one who has been talking about how much he loves Halloween parties. He misses it.

“Like you said, I probably don’t need to be at parties all the time,” Tony says. “And I can make you watch Dracula with me. You’re gonna like Lugosi.”

“Who the hell is Lugosi?”

“Oh my god, I’m making you do a monster-movie-marathon. I’ll rent every movie I can find.”

Rhodey shakes his head.

“Okay, but I probably won’t be paying attention tonight. I have to know the difference between a robust and gracile australopithecine.”

“One begins with ‘r’ and one begins with ‘g’, now come on and make the popcorn.”

Tony’s...the best part about him is that he’s himself. He’s loud and sometimes annoying and by god sometimes Rhodey wants to launch him out of a window, but Tony’s also incredibly kind and far more insightful than he ever wants to admit.

They fall asleep surrounded by candy wrappers and a blanket that was definitely too small slung over (mostly) Rhodey.

They get into a good routine, Tony and Rhodey. Rhodey brews the coffee, and Tony doctors it to his heart’s content. It involves a lot of syrups, creams, and sugars. The occasional terrible one, although everyone in Rhodey’s morning lab are jealous when they can smell his coffee.

They go to lunch together, and Rhodey gets the salads and fruits while Tony gets the slices of pizza or hamburgers that they’re so fond of. They argue about philosophy and call each other idiots while stealing the popcorn chicken off of each other’s plates and coexist peacefully.

It’s not until Tony has to leave for some conference that his parents want him at that Rhodey realizes just how much Tony has affected his life. He makes two coffees, almost calls out and asks if they’re still going to get takeout from that should-be-shut-down pizza parlor five blocks off, and realizes he’s all alone.

Again.

So he reads about Humphrey Bogart.

He’s kind of annoying, all things considered. Guy got steady work being the villain/bad-guy type and wants more. It’s steady, what more is there to want?

(His mind whispers that he just views it that way because he has no idea what he’s going to be doing in the future.)

Back to Bogart.

The guy is...kind of interesting. Kind of. He’s still not sure what he has in common with him. He’ll figure it out later. Maybe he can ask Tony for help.

Tony comes back in a whirlwind of emotion, almost all of it rage at his father.

Rhodey sends him a look.

“Shut up about how much your dad sucks and come with me to get food for the week. I had to survive off of hummus.”

“My hummus?!” Tony shrieks. “The garlic?!”

“Yes, I’ll get you more you gigantic baby,” Rhodey says. “Also, what do you think Humphrey Bogart and I have in common?”

“An h, an o, an e, and a y,” Tony answers quickly.

“Besides the letters,” Rhodey scowls.

“Well I’d say you go to different barbers.”

“No shit.”

Tony looks at him, and really looks at him. Rhodey tries to forget how much he loves his eyes, the kindness that’s in them.

"You both like important things,” Tony says. “And you commit to something when you decide you’re going to do it. Just think of the Great Burrito Event of ‘89.”

“We’re still in ‘89, genius.”

“Exactly, still important and still making history as we’re currently living it a day at a time,” Tony says. “Now come on, I need more hummus since you were a monster and attacked the fridge. What, you wanted to be Godzilla for a day?”

"Not Godzilla, just have a power dynamic. Come on, grab the keys. Missed you this weekend.”

“Aw, you do care!” Tony cheers.

“I always care about you,” Rhodey answers.

He misses Tony stilling at the door, feeling the words circle his head like a damned message from Cupid.

(Yeah, he was going to marry Rhodey.)

The holiday season and finals season coexist, which Rhodey thinks is a cruel joke played by God in order to let mortals know where their influence lies.

He’s currently on his fifth cup of coffee in five hours which is most likely dangerous, unsure of if he’s actually seeing the correct numbers on his study guide, and about to blow a gasket if he looks at one more problem. But he has to.

Tony doesn’t study.

He’s of the rare sort that just...remembers, at least when it comes to his important classes. Out of everything he’s had to study, Tony actually had to study something about wine cellars in France, which he hated.

“I’m making you come with me to get ice cream.”

“I don’t have time.”

He’s about to tear his hair out. Everything is riding on these exams, it seems. If he doesn’t do well on these, what are Mama and Dad gonna say when he comes home? What are they going to tell people? He made it to MIT, but he has to make it count.

Tony is looking at him in that way that lets him know that he will get his way.

“You’ve been studying for six hours straight. You’re not gonna learn anything new, and you’re about to cry because you hate stats so much.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You literally have a tear streaming down your face,” Tony deadpans. He crosses the room, wipes it away with his thumb. “Your coat is at the table towards the front, I’m giving you five minutes. And for the love of god, please put on your cologne. You smell like anxiety and anger.”

“Those have scents?”

“Apparently so.”

The cold breeze is a refreshing slap to the face as he walks, hat tugged low.

“It’s cold enough, why do you need ice cream?” Rhodey asks, teeth chattering.

“Never too cold for ice cream.”

“Says the boy who vacations in Malibu for Christmas.”

“Told you that you could come. Not like Howard would notice.”

“I’d rather not take that chance. Besides, I’d miss a Philadelphia Christmas.”

“That a movie or something?”

“No, it’s where I live you son of a bitch,” Rhodey teases.

“I hate you,” Tony says, no real heat clipped to his tone. It’s a back-and-forth they have, all this name-calling and accusatory behavior. “I’m going to request a new roommate next year.”

“Like they’d stick you with anyone else. Or would anyone else cover for the seven fires you’ve nearly started this year?”

“Six out of seven wouldn’t have been fires.”

“They would’ve.”

“Says the man who doesn’t work at all with fire, but with graph paper. Do want your Christmas gift to be a pocket-protector, by the way?”

“Oh fuck you.”

“You wish,” Tony says, winking.

He gets peanut butter chocolate.

When they get home, he makes a bowl for Rhodey.

“Your tests aren’t until noon tomorrow. Get some sleep, babe.”

“And what, you’re going to get some too, honey?”

(Pet names are also a thing. And also more favorable to both, although neither knows the other’s thoughts on this subject.)

Tony grins.

“You want both of us to sleep?”

Rhodey and Tony have figured out a nifty trick: soap operas or Seinfeld. Whichever one is on, they’ll watch that and fall asleep on the futon, which should be as uncomfortable as any futon is.

(They both think the temporary backaches are worth it to be in each other’s arms.)

Tony drifts to sleep, although he makes sure that Rhodey’s first. He pulls him over to his side, head resting on his thigh.

“You this forward with every guy you bring home?”

"Only the cute ones,” Tony grins. “Come on, get comfy. You’re gonna get sleepy.”

“Like hell I am,” Rhodey says. “You’re gonna fall asleep...first.”

Rhodey falls asleep first. Mouth slightly agape, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“Like hell you are,” Tony murmurs, adjusting the blankets. (They’ve upgraded to fancy hotel ones that Tony may or may not have stolen.)

Rhodey will be okay. He just has to convince himself first.

#i saw a post that was like 'we never get to see rhodey panic about college and so here it is #rhodey #this drew HEAVILY from my freshman year of college #god what an experience #lovelyirony writes #also my dear i am so sorry that this is coming to you so late #time and inspiration got away from me #rhodeytony #tony stark #mit era #rhodey and tony at mit #college au #unfortunatelyevent

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salt-warrior · 3 years

Text

Alright folks... it’s time for me to forever shame myself, because I’m publishing a crack fic. I’ve NEVER done that before because I usually just write crack fics for my own enjoyment, but this crack fic was inspired by a post that @impossiblesuitcase wrote. So thank you for that, lovely. Also thank you @cosmicnovaflare for pushing me to write this, I love you always.

This crack fic is a crossover of three of my own fanfictions. So if you have not red Unsinkable, The Echo of Silence, and The Time it Takes to Fall, then literally none of this will make any sense. All three play vital roles in this story. Seriously, you’ll be in the dark so don’t read it unless you’ve read all of them.

Again, this is a crack fic so it’s even more wildly unrealistic than my other writing. And I am also going to pretend I never wrote it because I am ashamed. The original endings are the real endings in my mind. You have been warned.

So without further ado, I present you with 6,249 words of crack fic that I wrote in one sitting yesterday instead of doing my homework. Enjoy.

Tags: @shellyseashell @cindersassasin @gingerale2017 @healing-winston-pratt @winterrhayle @just2bubbly @f-r-o-p @idkchatie (I’m only tagging the people who were really angry with Unsinkable because I think a lot of you have read all three of those stories? If not, then sorry for the tag, I love you guys<333)

Until Forever Ends

Before Kai’s father had passed away, he’d told Kai to pursue what he needed to find peace. He’d probably meant something along the lines of falling in love with another girl or switching up his career. Surely he hadn’t intended for his son to look into the mythical sisters of life and death.

It had been a long day, with him first going to his father's funeral, then to see Cinder's gravesite one last time. He hated leaving her there, but he had hope that when they would meet again, he would speak to her and not a marble headstone.

He'd mailed notes to all his friends that morning. To Scarlet and Wolf, Jacin and Winter, and Cress. He'd detailed an adventure across the world that he would be having. After all, his father had left everything he owned to Kai, and he wanted to make the most of living. Of course it was all a fantastic lie; he was traveling the world, and perhaps it would be an adventure, but it was more of a journey than anything else. And he didn't plan on ever coming home.

Because even if he found what he was looking for, he couldn't return to his friends. They wouldn't understand—they couldn't understand.

So he would travel to the ends of the Earth, and he would find her.

***

Kai sat on a sandy beach, the waves lapping up over his legs, his nostrils filling with the scent of salt. The sky was gray and the air cold, but he could not feel its bitter sting. His clothes were torn ragged and his hair grown long and shaggy. If one were to gaze upon him, they would believe him to be insane. But he did not care. He was on the hunt for the sisters of life and death— and he was close.

It had been months since his father’s funeral; months since he’d left Cinder’s grave back in Arizona. He’d flown across the sea and traveled to lands he hadn’t even known existed. He’d slept under the stars and beneath the blanket of darkness. He’d listened to stories of people who lived their lives over and over in search of love and those who had been played for fools. He’d seen much and learned even more.

He’d heard tales of the two sisters: one life and the other death. They began as whispered fairy tales, told to him by drunkards and fools. But as he investigated further, he discovered that the sisters were real.

They existed throughout all the lands of the world, always under different names. In some lands they were simply Life and Death, while in others they were Angel and Demon or creatures of the Earth. He simply knew them as Light and Darkness. He only hoped to call out to the sister of light and life, not the one of darkness and death.

Throughout all his travels, no one had ever been able to tell him how to call each sister, only that they came to the cries of the brokenhearted who claimed, and fervently meant, that they would do anything to bring their love back to them. It had to be a plea for love that consumed one’s entire soul— but his soul was filled with Cinder, and Cinder alone.

He watched the black sea as it foamed about him. There had been conflicting views as to where one had to be when summoning either of the sisters. Some claimed that the person had to be in the place of their lover’s birth, while others explained that you had to be in the exact place of their final breath. One woman had even claimed that without the body of his dead lover still warm in his arms, he could not bring her back. Kai had shivered at that proclamation, with Cinder dead and in the ground for well over a year.

But there had been one account that had remained etched in his mind. A scholar somewhere in Europe, who had quoted the lines of Edgar Allen Poe’s last poem to Kai.

“And neither the angels of Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.”

“The sea would be the best place to call one of the sisters to you,” the scholar had said. “For that is their home. With the Angel above and the Demon below, they will hear your cries.”

So Kai went to the sea.

Slowly the gray sky melded into black, allowing for the stars to dot the emptiness and the moon to shine across the waves with hints of white light. He knew he should have been cold, and perhaps he was, but there was nothing left in him but the aching wish to be with Cinder once more.

“Cinder,” he whispered her name through chapped lips. “My love. I would do anything–” his voice broke off with a sob, tears falling like the spray of the ocean. “Anything,” he reiterated. “To be with you again.”

The waves of the sea began to swirl about him, pulling him off the beach and out into the waves. He screamed as his head dipped below the water, but a bubble of air had formed around him, preventing any wetness from glancing across his skin.

Everything seemed to grow lighter, despite the darkness he had remembered seeing. The waves danced about him in hues of deep purple and foam green. Fish swam around him in a flurry, and even the stars in the sky appeared to stand in closer proximity to himself.

Then everything slowed, and Kai found himself thrown back upon the sandy beach shore. He laid upon the ground, staring at the moon in the sky, which seemed within arms reach. He lifted a hand as if to touch it.

A hand reached out to brush against his fingers, and Kai pulled back. Silhouetted against the moon was the most glorious woman that Kai had ever beheld. There was no beauty comparable to her own. Her skin was dark and lined with gold tracings that resembled the very waves of the sea. She wore a dress of crimson that covered her figure elegantly, and jewelry of gold lined her ears and neck.

“Oh my stars,” she gasped, jumping back from him as she gazed upon his face. “It’s you.”

Kai was too shocked to speak. He dropped his hand back upon his chest as he looked up at her. His eyes mapped the kindness in her face and the confusion in her eyes as she gawked at him. All that he could register was that he was in the presence of an otherworldly being.

At long last her words caught up to his thoughts and puzzlement of his own registered in his mind. “Do we know one another?”

The woman’s face softened, and she shook her head slowly. “No, I suppose we do not. Or at the very least, not in this lifetime; not in this world. I am Light, the sister of life and all things which make life beautiful. For what reason do you weep so?”

Kai’s heart skipped a beat at her words. He pushed himself up so he rested upon his knees before her, looking up at her glorious face. She glowed, as if she were the moon itself, rather than just having it shine behind her.

“My wife,” Kai explained, “Cinder, died. She is gone from this life, and I wish to be with her again. I… I just wish to be with her again.”

“You are a fool to call down a deity on purpose. You could have just as easily received my sister,” Light exclaimed, though there was a certain sorrow hidden behind her gaze. “But you have been shadowed with luck upon this day. I can sense your pain, and the both of us know that you could call upon me only if your very soul screamed for your love and your love alone.

“I do not often grant requests of such a sort, unlike my sister, who joys in tricking lovers to be her slaves for all eternity. I find that traveling into the next world is the best option— that waiting for Darkness to collect you and transfer your soul fresh and new into another world is the best way to go.” She stopped speaking, then fell to her knees so she and Kai were at eye-level with one another. “But I have met your soul in another world— one where it knew only pain. I have met many creatures of the Earth through my eons of serving them. I aid those in all the universes known alongside my sister. But in all that time I have never stumbled upon the same man twice.

“And it is for that reason that I shall grant you your request,” Light said, touching her fingers against Kai’s cheek. She winced as she wiped the tears from his face.

Kai couldn’t breath, unable to process the words she was speaking to him. He would be with Cinder once more— she would be returned to him. All would be right in the world once more.

“However, I cannot reunite you with the girl you knew in this world,” Light explained with a sigh. “With your love gone for over a year, that piece of her soul has already passed into a new universe— it has been wiped of all her joy and all her sorrows. That piece of Cinder now abides somewhere else.”

Within an instant, Kai felt his world crumble into a thousand pieces. He hated himself for believing that it had been possible— that he could be with Cinder once more. But he was too late; he had waited too long. Now he would have to live the rest of this wretched life without her and hope to meet her in another universe.

“Do not fret, dear child,” Light chided, smoothing the hair back from his face in a motherly fashion. “For there is hope yet.”

“There is?” Kai asked.

“Yes; for while that fraction of Cinder that you know has vanished into another world, her soul still resides in other universes. You see, the soul lives thousands of lives, all in different realities. For it is not one solid being, it is an entity that never ceases to exist, and can exist in more than one place at once. The only problem being that the more time it spends in one universe, the more corrupt and destroyed it becomes. If your soul could recall other realities, you would understand of what I speak, for this was the exact circumstance under which we last met.”

Kai nodded along, pretending that he had even the faintest idea of what she was speaking of. She let out a great exasperated sigh, shaking her head. Light dropped her hand from his face and got to her feet.

“Your mortal mind cannot begin to comprehend the meaning of eternity. For while you shall live forever, you will not know it. There is a block upon your soul to cause you to forget; that is why it pains man so much to try and imagine living for forever.

“But that does not matter now. For when you are dead, your soul shall endure cleansing once more and be whisked off into another life in which you shall live and love and die again. Exhausting, isn’t it?”

Kai stared blankly, completely at a loss for words.

Light looked down upon him, stars shining in her eyes. “Dear child, there is another world in which your dearest love lived with you, but you were taken from her. Her soul aches for you in the way that yours aches for hers. I have never before transferred a soul to a different reality without death occurring first, but I have also never stumbled upon the same soul twice. Yours is a soul filled with more love and loss than any other I have come to know. So upon this night I shall reunite you with your love.”

The ocean began to swirl about them once more, pulling Kai into its great depths, but this time he did not scream. Light began to rise into the air, her arms spread wide as if to cup the moon above her hair. The wind howled, twisting the coils of her black hair about her face and the crimson swathes of fabric about her body. She was a glorious arrayment of red and gold and shining light.

Above the wind, Light shouted in a tongue lost to mortals, for it was the language of the first of mankind, and it had been forgotten. The sea continued to spin around Kai, fish of every color swimming about him. He was in the eye of an oceanic tornado.

Still Light rose higher into the air, pulling her crashing waves about her as she ascended toward the moon. All that Kai could see were the many sea creatures and the luminous goddess above him, growing brighter every moment.

A high-pitched scream filled his ears, though it was not a human one. It blocked out the sound of the waves and the echoing chants of Light above him. It filled his very being as the blinding light penetrated his soul.

And just as he wondered if this would be the destruction of his very soul, everything went black.

***

Kai awoke to the roar of the ocean, and felt an instant rush of cold tear through his body. His mind flashed with the memories of calling Light to him and begging her to send him to a life in which Cinder lived. He could recall the overwhelming light that had surrounded him, and the screaming that blocked out all other thoughts as the goddess rose above him in a tornado of the sea.

He pushed himself up and stared out at the waves. It was bright— the middle of the day by his reckoning— and warm. People stood in the ocean waves wearing an odd assortment of clothes rather than bathing suits. Or at least, they weren’t the kind of bathing suits that Kai knew.

A few people stared at him with quizzical looks, though Kai couldn’t deny that he probably deserved them. He wasn’t sure how long he had been laying upon the beach, though he was almost certain it had been some time.

“Are you alright, mister?” A kid asked, looking down at Kai. His cheeks were pink from sunburn, though it wasn’t particularly hot out.

“Yeah,” Kai said, getting to his feet and dusting off his jeans. The boy watched him warily. “Hey kid, what day is it?”

“December second,” the boy replied.

“And,” Kai scratched behind his ear. "What’s the year?”

The boy gawked at him for a moment, as if he thought Kai were either very dumb or very strange. “1912,” he said the year slowly, his slightly syrupy accent not helping. “What year did you reckon it to be?”

“I don’t know.” Kai glanced around, trying to gauge the situation. He didn’t know much about 1912. Actually, he knew nothing about it other than it was a couple years before World War I broke out. “Hey kid, where are we?”

The child, who couldn’t have been older than ten gave him an incredulous stare, then glanced over his shoulder, as if to check for his mother. “Savannah, sir,” he said.

“Savannah…”

“Georgia, sir,” the kid said, taking a couple steps back from Kai.

“Okay.” Kai sucked in a breath between his teeth, trying to think of what to do next. He was beginning to panic, for he did not know where to find Cinder in this different time and place. He didn’t even know if her name was Cinder, or even Selene.

“Hey kid?” Kai asked, glancing back down to talk to the boy, but he was running toward a woman glaring daggers at Kai.

Releasing a sigh, Kai walked away from the beach and toward the bustling town. People shot glares at him as he walked down the streets. He wasn’t exactly dressed in the way a normal twenty-first century guy would be, but his jeans and shredded red t-shirt didn’t fit in with the people surrounding him either. But there wasn’t a thing he could do about it; he had no money and no connections. He was alone in a world that did not belong to him. He couldn’t even be certain that Georgia meant the same thing to these people as it did him.

He was beginning to wonder if perhaps this was all some ridiculous dream, and whether or not he would wake up soon. But he’d thought that a lot over the past year, praying to whatever being that saw over mankind that Cinder wasn’t dead— that he wasn’t alone. That he could be with his wife once more.

And then he saw her.

Her hair was longer than she’d ever worn it in his reality, nearly reaching her waist, and she wore a pale pink dress that fell well past her knees. But if those details were strange, it was nothing in comparison to the buggy she was pushing in front of her. Kai felt his stomach drop. Was she married to another man? Had she chosen Thorne in this reality instead of him?

Panic gripped him, but before he could run and hide in an alleyway, she glanced up and right at his face. Her eyes widened with shock, then joy, then fear. It was that last look that made his heart ache. He had known Cinder for seven years, but never had she looked at him in such a way.

She sunk to her knees, hands gripping the front of the stroller. “Kai,” she breathed, staring at him now with absolute horror. A tear traced down her cheek and fell to the concrete like a single drop of rain. The pain on her face ripped through his body— he could not stand to watch her suffer so.

He rushed to her side, kneeling down upon the ground beside her, much like Light had done with him the night before, or whenever it was that he had spoken with the goddess. She shook as he brushed her hair from her face and cupped her cheek with his hand. “Cinder,” he whispered, voice low. “I know that this is confusing and frightening, but I need to talk with you. I have things to explain.”

“But you’re dead,” she sobbed, turning her face away from his and shutting her eyes tight. “You didn’t make it off the ship alive. They told me you drowned. They told me you were dead. You’re dead. You’re just a figment of my imagination. You can’t be real.”

“Cinder,” Kai hushed, glancing around them. There were people walking past them, staring with curious eyes, but none of them looked nervous for Cinder’s sake. “Cinder, I know that I’m dead here. And I know that my explanation for my being here might not make any sense, but I need to speak with you in private. I can explain everything. I will explain everything. I just need for us to go somewhere where we can’t be overheard.”

She opened her eyes and the look of absolute shame in her eyes caused his heart to stop. Tears traced down her cheeks in abundance; Kai had never known Cinder to cry in such a way. He worried that she would say no— that she had moved on. That his coming here was a burden upon her. But slowly, she nodded her head.

***

They went to a park just down the street from the beach. It was run-down, with a sad swing set of splintering seats and an abandoned jungle gym. There were no children around, or even any people for that matter, a fact that Kai found almost strange. Though at his inquisitive look, Cinder simply looked away from him.

She led him to a park table that sat somewhat lopsided but was sturdy all the same. She parked the buggy beside her, drawing the cover up so it shielded whatever was inside.

Kai took a seat across from her, bouncing his legs with nerves as he watched her and she looked away. He didn’t understand why she was acting in such a way. He hadn’t had much time to think of how he expected her to react to him appearing to her out of nowhere, but it definitely hadn’t been this. Confusion, yes. But this show of shame was frightening.

“Cinder,” Kai said, tilting his head in an attempt to get her to look at him. “Cinder, what’s the matter?”

She inhaled deeply, a great shuddering breath. Then finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy. But despite the remorse coloring her features, she was still his Cinder. She was the girl that he had met at ASU his Junior year in college. She was the girl he had fallen in love with.

“They told me that you died,” she whispered. “I-I–”

“Alright,” Kai cut in, not wanting her to believe that she had insulted his memory in any way. After all, he was dead in this reality. He did not wish for her to believe that anything she had done after his death was wrong. “Sorry, love, I really don’t mean to cause you any harm. I just– I don’t know how to explain what I’m about to tell you.” Somehow his words came out slow and calm, though he felt rather as if he were about to explode. “But I need to tell you something, and I only ask that you listen to the entirety of my story because it might sound somewhat preposterous.”

She nodded her head slowly, tears wiping at her eyes.

Kai told their story, starting from the day he had met her back when she still lived with her step-sister. He explained that he had loved her for five years in silence before finally proclaiming his love for her when she’d explained that she’d never been in love before. He told her how they had gotten married only three months later and lived two years together happily before she’d died in a dreadful car accident.

She listened silently, her tears drying and her eyes hardening and he explained how Thorne had been in love with her and how Kai had gotten into a fight with both him and her father. She never once interrupted him, even as he explained his months of mourning, then his months of searching for a way to conjure one of the sisters of life and death.

It was only when he told her of how Light had appeared to him on the beach and brought him to her world through an oceanic tornado filled with moonlight that she chose to interrupt.

“What?” She hissed, tilting her head at him in that I-don’t-believe-a-single-word-coming-out-of-your-mouth sort of a way. If she had been the Cinder of his universe, he knew that she would have asked him how high he was.

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” Kai said, “but you have to believe me. I know that I don’t belong here— that I’m not meant to live in this world. But before you died you told me that you believe in soulmates. That you thought that every person had another half. You told me when we got together that you could feel that it was right— that it was a whisper in your ear that it was me. And I didn’t believe in soulmates then, but I do now. My soul loves your soul. It has loved it in universes that I don’t even know of, but it adored you all the same. My love for you will never die, no matter how many times I die myself. You are the only one that I will ever love. I cannot help it. My soul cannot think to love another so long as it knows you.”

“But this doesn’t make any sense,” Cinder whispered, her guards coming down. “Even if you were from another universe and you loved me there, I assure you that you would not care for me in this one. Not after what I’ve done to you.”

“Did you kill me?” Kai asked, half curious and half terrified.

Cinder let out a slight, hiccupping laugh. Kai did not feel at ease.

“Cinder,” Kai said, growing serious once more. “I don’t know what happened here— what happened to me— but I know that no matter where we are in the space-time continuum, my soul will always love yours. But if you wish me to leave you, I will.” His mouth went dry with the words, but he meant them. No matter how much it hurt to be parted from her, he would do what she asked of him.

“I’m married,” Cinder blurted out. “After you died, I married Carswell. We were engaged to be married before I eloped with you in London, but when I came back and you were dead, Kingsley thought that it would be the best option. That it would be better for everyone, especially the–”

She buried her face in her hands, but all Kai could think of was that she had married Carswell Thorne— her best friend in his world. The one who had told her that he was in love with her the day that she died. The Carswell that had fought with him at Scarlet and Wolf’s house. His blood boiled with rage, though not with Cinder. She had done what she had to to survive. But Thorne— he would have gladly hit him again.

Kai sucked in a breath and returned his thoughts to the more pressing matters. He had no clue what had happened to him in this life. For all he knew, Carswell Thorne had killed him and forced Cinder to be his bride. Maybe that’s how things had worked back then. Kai was no history major, but he knew that honor was often important to people. Perhaps there had even been a duel.

“What happened to me?” Kai asked, his voice soft. “How did I die in this life?”

Cinder drew her hands down from her face, but kept her eyes averted from him as she said, “You drowned. We were on the Titanic–”

“The Titanic?” Kai interjected, with a gasp. “Like Jack and Rose?”

“I– I don’t know,” Cinder said, furrowing her brow. “But we were sailing home and the ship– the ship sank. You forced me onto a lifeboat even though I said I wanted to stay with you.” She glared at him. “And you went down with the ship. You drowned. Or froze. I do not know, I wasn’t there with you when you passed from this life and onto the next. But you left me.”

“Oh,” Kai whispered. His body deflated. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be sorry,” Cinder sneered, then she shook her head. “No. No, you were just doing what you thought was the right thing. You saved me. And you saved–” She shut her eyes again, then finally reached out toward the buggy and pulled back the top to uncover what lay inside.

Oh course Kai knew what strollers were for, but before that moment he hadn’t really considered that there would be a child inside— at the very least, not her child. His child.

But it was his child. He could tell just by looking at the small infant that he was both Cinder and Kai mixed together. He was still young, but no longer a newborn. Great black tufts of hair rested on his head, and when he opened his eyes— Kai let out a gasp. They were exactly his own.

Cinder rocked the child back and forth, running his finger over its face in a soft, motherly way that made Kai’s very soul ache. They’d had a child together, and Kai hadn’t gotten to be there. It didn’t even particularly matter to him that it wasn’t exactly his child. He should have been there, but he wasn’t. He hadn’t been there for Cinder or their baby. He had abandoned them.

“I’m so sorry,” Kai blurted, devastation seeming to carve his heart out of his body. “Cinder,” Kai sobbed, his eyes stinging with tears. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I– I did abandon you. I’m so terribly sorry.”

“Shhh,” Cinder hushed, reaching a hand across the table and laying it over Kai’s. She looked startled. “Kai–” she started, then shook her head. “Kai, I’m mad at you, or him, or– I don’t even know. I’m mad that you saved me when you didn’t save yourself. But I will never be mad that you saved him.”

Kai stared down at her hand on his and saw the tracery of an old burn. It wasn’t as severe as the one she had had in his universe, but it was still there.

Cinder seemed to realize herself and pulled back. She bit her lip and stared down at the baby, brow furrowed.

“I named him after you,” she whispered after a time.

Kai opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.

“Kaito Rikan Prince,” Cinder continued, not looking at him. “I just– I saw him, and I knew who he was. It didn’t matter that my mother thought that he should have my grandfather’s name or that Kingsley thought he should be named after himself.” She made a face at that. “I knew that he should have the name of his father and his grandfather because they had helped to save his life.

“But now that you’re here, I– I don’t really know if that fits. It would be confusing to have two Kai’s around. But Rikan— I don’t know. I think that perhaps he could be a Rikan.”

“Uh-huh,” Kai breathed, still reeling.

Cinder looked up at him, her eyes softening. “I still don’t understand everything that happened, and in all honesty, I don’t believe you understand it all either.”

“But,” Cinder continued, closing one eye as if she were cringing at herself. “I know that every night for the past eight months I have cried for the pain of missing you so. I know that you have never left my thoughts for even an instant, both in waking and in sleep. I know that my soul loves yours, and while I do not know how long it has cared for you, I know that it always will.

“I know you’re not the you that I knew, but you also are. You’re my Kai, and not just because you look and sound like him. You watch me with that same careful way, and your laugh is the same. And strangest of all, you calm my very soul. It’s as if it knows that it’s you.

“I don’t know if you still want me,” Cinder swallowed, “after all that I’ve done. But please believe me when I say that I do not love Carswell— he is my dear friend and nothing more— and he does not love me in return. Not in this life.” She looked down at her child— their child— and smiled wistfully. “But if you do still wish to be with me, if your heart can still love me in spite of my most grievous offenses, then I will run away with you once more.” She grinned at this, the way one did when a happy memory was stirred in their conscience.

“You… You want me?” Kai asked, breathless.

Cinder looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I will always want you, Kai. No matter the time or place, I will always desire you to be by my side. Always.”

Kai watched her, his eyes searching hers for any falsities; he found none. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.

They were staring at one another, eyes that had not gazed upon the other in far too long. They were poisoned souls standing before their long sought-after cure. But now that they had found one another, neither knew what to do.

Hesitantly, Kai stood and walked over to the other side of the table. He sat close enough to touch her, though he did not. He simply stared at her, wordlessly, and she stared back.

“Kai,” Cinder whispered, breathless. She still held the infant in her arms, but he had fallen fast asleep. “Kai, I–”

“I know,” he chuckled, leaning in close to her. They were both inclining toward the other, as if through a magnetic pull. He could feel her breath as their faces rested inches apart. Neither moved in, both too scared of what would happen next.

Then Cinder muttered his name, and Kai closed the gap between them.

She let out a little gasp, as if surprised. But she kissed him back, and it was as if she had never left him— as if the past year had not happened, and they had been together all the while. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his fingers brushing back stray strands of hair.

They broke apart, both flushed but smiling all the same. Kai couldn’t stop staring at her, and reveling in the fact that he had found her. They were together once more. She wanted him.

After a time of shared smiles and conversations about the other’s universe, Cinder asked Kai if he wanted to hold the child, and he accepted happily. And when the baby rested in his arms, tears slipped from his eyes as love overtook his soul. He’d thought about him and Cinder having kids many times during their marriage, though they’d never quite been ready for it. It didn’t even matter that this child belonged to the Kai of this world and not to him— he loved him all the same.

They made plans for what they would do— how they would leave this place and start a new life together. Cinder would pack her belongings and they would take a train to the west. She had all her money from her dowry, and the Prince estates had been left in her name after the deaths of both Prince men.

When they parted, it was a sweet farewell, filled with promises to see the other soon, for they would never abandon the other again.

***

Kai leaned back into the couch, careful not to disturb baby Rikan as he slept. He adored the feeling of holding the small child in his arms and his small stirrings in his sleep. Even the little sounds he made caused for his heart to melt.

“Hey Kai,” Cinder called, walking into the room. He shushed her, nodding his head down toward the sleeping baby, though there wasn’t much worry. Rikan was a heavy sleeper. “Oh, sorry, Ri,” she whispered, tip-toeing over to the pair of them and settling herself down beside Kai.

She grabbed a quilt from beside the couch and laid it over hers and Kai’s laps. Then she settled her head on Kai’s shoulder. She reached her hand up to rest under Kai’s, smiling as she looked down at their baby.

They had left Georgia the same day that they had met one another there, randomly deciding to take the train to Colorado. It had been a somewhat frightening journey, with both of them worrying whether or not someone would come after them, but so far, no one had. They’d been settled into their apartment for over three weeks, happy and together at last.

There were still many things that they both didn’t understand, about one another and the situation. But at the end of the day, they were Cinder and Kai— even if Cinder was still confused about the fact that Kai’s last name was Crown and not Prince, though she did claim it was growing on her.

“I love this,” Cinder said, brushing the black tufts of Rikan’s hair. “It feels right, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“For so long I felt a dreadful emptiness within me, and while there’s still a sadness for what I’ve lost, it's not as great. It’s manageable.”

“I know what you mean.” Kai kissed the top of her head. “We’re different, but the same at the same time. It’s different, but it’s also… just us. We’re still us.”

“We’re still us,” Cinder echoed, letting out a sigh.

There were so many things in Kai’s life that didn’t make sense, but it had been that way even before he’d entered into an alternate universe. He hadn’t understood why Thorne had proclaimed his love for Cinder, or why Chandler Blackburn hadn’t been able to love his daughter. Even his own crushing grief had been confusing at times. And while this world was different in customs and manners and the ways in which society functioned, none of that mattered. For so long as he was with Cinder, all of it was okay.

“I love you,” Kai whispered.

“And I love you,” Cinder said. “And I’ll love you so long as my soul survives, for you’re the only one, Kai. You’re the only one I shall ever truly love.”

“And you are the only one for me as well.” Kai grinned. “And I will love you for forever and ever. No," Kai said, his eyes searching hers and seeing only Cinder. "I will love you until forever ends.”

#crack fic #unsinkable au #unsinkable #the echo of silence #the time it takes to fall #salt warrior stories

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romijuli · 3 years

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Tsuzuru for the ask!

Em I hope you’re ready for an essay cause this is basically an essay.

What I love about them: HOOOOO BOY I could be here for hours I love this man. I didn’t entirely get the concept of a comfort character or self-shipping before I met this man. Anyway. I love the whole “I am the sole sane man in a sea of chaos” thing he’s got going, I love how much nonsense he gets swept up in, I love how flustered he gets at the slightest provocation, I love his tendency to talk before he thinks when it’s something vaguely romantic and then IMMEDIATELY backpedal so hard that an otherwise-unnotable comment becomes very much noticeable, I love how much he cares about his family even when he’s away and even when he’s ragging on tadoru. On a meta level I just LOVE the idea of a character who, mizuno’s dad aside, has had everyone in his lifetry to do their best or even just “not actively tried to be an asshole” and he still wound up kinda messed up, because sometimes life is just LIKE that and I feel like I dont see that enough. I just. I love him.

What I hate about them: PLEASE STOP PASSING OUT I know, rationally, that Tsuzuru’s character development in that regard will probably come last out of all of Mankai because passing out is His Thing and they wouldn’t wanna take away his “distinguishing quirk” or whatever but I am honestly worried for this man

Favorite Moment/Quote: okay I know I just said that but honestly the passing out is REALLY funny and I always look (looked?) forward to seeing where the hell Tsuzuru would pass out next. Actually I think that was a big part of me realizing he’s my fave! (A special shout-out to the anime winter arc where they ended the ep with him still on the floor.) Also anything with citron those two are hilarious, his birthday backstage where kaoru is like I HOPE YOU TWO GET MARRIED is very good god bless, and the bit in the anime where he’s writing r&j and passes out and wakes up to a blanket and a cup of coffee!!! That’s so cute and I guess it’s more about room 101 but it’s such a good scene and really good for getting him started on his “I dont need to be so self-reliant anymore” development I’m honestly sad it was made for the anime why didn’t they do that in the game????? (I may update this when I actually read clockwork heart’s story, which I unlocked yesterday but have been too much in Writer Mode to read)

What I would like to see more focus on: honestly the answer differs in canon versus fanwork! In canon I would really like them to focus on the whole “this man has Issues but apparently doesn’t even realize it” thing, but in fanwork…okay so I talked about this on Twitter but his initial SSR backstage has him helping with an autumn troupe show (Roman episode??? No one in winter troupe is there even in the dorms so) in a way that’s almost like assistant director-y??? No one talks about that?????? Is that part of being the playwright or did you just insist on doing assistant director stuff on top of the other stuff bro PLEASE. (Also the occasional chuuni moments, yes they exist, go check his clockwork heart n card it’s REALLY funny also the bit in the Merlin backstage where he and spring troupe are larping at dinner it’s so good)

What I would like to see less focus on: please just give me anything with this man I will consume it

Favorite pairing with: myself or my self-insert TSUZUMISUKAZU in any permutation I could rant. I have practiced The Rant. Other than that…Omitsuzu is cute, Tsuzuita and Tsuzucito are both very funny and adorable, I have a bit of a soft spot for tsuzusaku, tsuzuizu is cute, I am not caught up in jp at ALL but I’ve seen some Tsuzuru/madoka here and there and I think that’s adorable,

Favorite friendship: Tsuzuru and citron are HILARIOUS I love them, platonic tsuzukazu is fun as well, I have a very strict “Tsuzuru and Izumi are bffs” agenda, also literally any interaction with his brothers that I’ve seen so far

NOTP: any of the y1 under-16s.

Favorite headcanon: tsuzuru dyed his hair to match tadoru. Except that’s probably canon actually hm. I like to think that he ends up staying with Mankai until he stops writing, even if he stops acting. Maybe that’s just me trying to cope with EN’s loss idk

#asky meme #I may have also rehearsed this ask cause I had a feeling Tsuzuru would come up lmao

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xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 3 years

Text

If you tell him you’ve fallen for him...

Word Count: 13,003

Disclaimers: This is part (58) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

I hate the YN device as I find it “knocks me out of the story” so I have used my own name as a filler instead of YN [Sorry for any inconvenience]

Check at the end for glossary of Korean terms*

Start here:

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“R...really?” you ask him hesitantly. He smiles and, for the first time in a long time, the smile goes all the way to his sparkling eyes as he nods enthusiastically.

“Yup!” he affirms happily. “I just didn’t know you’d say yes so soon.”

“Oh…” you stall, your head still spinning at his sudden transformation from international playboy to Korea’s sweetheart. His face falls at your continued hesitation.

“It doesn’t have to be homemade this first time,” he explains, in a small voice. “We can get some gimbap and drinks from a street vendor or a convenience store and then walk back up here. If that’s okay with you, I mean?” he corrects himself, his hands twisting anxiously in his lap.

“Oh babe!” you reassure him, taking his hands in yours. “It’s not that at all! This is a really cute idea. And the blanket is beautiful! It’s just...I mean...what if I hadn’t?” you correct yourself quickly. “What if it hadn’t worked out. With me?”

“Oh!” he recovers himself with another of his adorable bunny smiles. “It had to,” he assures you, suddenly brimming with confidence again.

“Okay? What do you mean it had to?” you ask, somewhat baffled.

“Well cos, you know my thing about hearing bells when I meet my soulmate? Well, I heard bells ringing when you came into our dorm the first time,” he explains, looking a little shy, but pleased with himself. You think back to your first day. Not surprisingly, you were a little too distracted at the time to remember any bells but you do remember one thing:

“JK...babe...It was a Sunday morning,” you remind him gently. “There were probably church bells ringing somewhere, and you heard those.” But he’s already shaking his head defiantly. “It doesn’t matter. It still counts. It doesn’t matter why there were bells, just that I heard them the first time I saw you. So I knew you were going to be mine one day.” You don’t really know what to say to this, so you just accept his kisses and pay him back in kind, until you’re both drunk on each other.

“Kaja, noona,” he murmurs against your lips, before pulling on your hand to make you follow him back along the park’s perimeter towards one of the little shops nestled under the office buildings of Gangnam.

“Don’t use banmal, Kookie. You know it’s naughty when I’m your noona. Besides, we’re in public. What if someone overhears you?” you fret, as you follow him obediently along the narrow sidewalk. He giggles and rolls his eyes at you.

“If someone hears me, they’ll see us together anyway,” he points out. “And if anyone sees us together, they’ll be able to tell straight away that I’m in love with you.” He stops as suddenly as if you’d just slapped him, his cheeks flushed and his gaze fixed on the ground. “Erm...I mean…I…” he stammers to a halt.

“You’re in love with me?” Your voice drops to a whisper, as if it doesn’t want to speak the words out loud and make them not true. He nods, embarrassed and still blushing furiously, then cringes away from you with a little strangled noise, covering his face with his hands. You want to tell him you’re in love with him too. That you should have said something earlier. That he needn’t be shy or nervous. You want to beg him to look at you. But you’re still so taken aback that you just blurt out: “Is that why…?” He nods vehemently, somehow reading your mind, though he doesn’t remove his hands from where they’re shielding his face.

“I can’t go on that show. I just can’t!” he mumbles from behind his hands. “And all the members will know why, cos I already told Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung. Joon...Joon-hyung will kill me,” he moans softly, still stubbornly hiding his face. Ah. So this explains Jimin’s cryptic comments earlier.

“Well then he’ll have to kill me too,” you murmur, moving closer to him so that he can hear your voice, husky with the emotions you’ve been suppressing. “I’ve been in love with you from the day we met.” You raise your hands to gently move his own away from his face. Those huge, dark eyes are devouring you, his expression somewhere between bewilderment, hope and wonder.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you had feelings for me, noona?” he pouts. “Or even give me a hint until last night?” He kisses you again, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip in the sweetest punishment. “Were you just going to let me suffer, if I never made a pass at you?”

“Never?! Like you would have lasted another week without making a pass,” you tease him. He looks mock-indignant, but giggles after a moment and concedes your point, with a cute wink, running his hands over his bangs in a parody of a Bangtan dance move.

“Okay, okay - kayo,” you tell him, shooing him in front of you and into the convenience store to grab your picnic supplies.

Leaning back on his elbows on the picnic rug, he watches you set up the food and drinks you’ve collected together, with a predatory half-smile on his lips. As soon as you’re done, he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you down by his side, kissing you lingeringly. You kiss him back, but your eyes are still taking in your surroundings, ever on the alert for overzealous sasaeng fans who might be monitoring the park. He licks his nether-lip, gives you an amused look, and then casually takes a sip of champagne from the plastic glass you hand him, pausing with a tiny, cute grimace, before downing the contents in one swallow. He waves the empty glass at you, tapping the side with his finger, and you try not to smile at his imperious manner.

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Kook? Expecting me to pour your drinks?” you tease him. “We’re not even married!” you elaborate, obediently pouring him another glass anyway, but with a gentle shake of your head.

“Yet…” he mutters, cheeky. You blush and occupy yourself with finishing the food setting, but he takes your hand to stop you, waiting until you look up at him.

“Come to Busan with me, when I go next week?” he asks you softly.

“Isn’t that a little...I mean...so suddenly?” you stammer. You know what he’s implying and, whilst you know that Korean men are notorious for moving quickly, this seems sudden even allowing for cultural mores. But he’s watching you avidly, and you still can’t resist those gorgeous doe-eyed looks he throws your way, even though you regularly see him throw them at the cameras, ARMY, even his hyungs and the staff when he particularly wants something from them. You’re not even entirely sure he realises how much power he holds, but he must notice that he tends to get his way when he looks at any of you like that.

“Okay,” you breathe, completely bewitched. You shove all your misgivings aside, close your eyes literally, to try and shut out all the potential hurdles to your fledgling relationship, and lean across to kiss him longingly.

He kisses you back, letting a wistful sigh escape his perfectly-shaped lips, before cuddling himself into your arms with an adorable little shimmy of content. You sigh in mild exasperation.

“JK?” you try. “Do you not want any of this picnic you were so insistent upon?” He nods, cute, with his eyes still shut, and opens his mouth obediently, apparently expecting you to feed him his lunch. Your mind is still reeling from everything that's changed over the past 24 hours as you reach across to fetch him a piece of the gimbap he chose first, figuring it’s the one to which he’s most looking forward. He takes it delicately from your fingers with his teeth, but as soon as it disappears into his mouth he chews it up as enthusiastically as you’re used to him doing, so you know he’s perfectly content here with you and happy to let you know that he’s enjoying his meal. His eyes flutter open once he’s done and he gives you a little pout, so you feed him another piece of gimbap and hand him back the glass of champagne he’s rested on the grass. But you draw the line at the third nudge, complete with a little motivational whine.

“I’m not going to feed you your entire lunch, you little prince!” you tease him, with a playful shove. “Am I meant to read your mind? You decide what you want to eat, okay?” He giggles a little and tells you he doesn’t care, it all looks delicious, but helps himself to a few more pieces of gimbap and some fruit, then cuddles back into your arms to consume it all voraciously, his huge, gorgeous eyes watching you avidly.

Unfortunately, the peace and repose of your tea party picnic is abruptly interrupted by the telltale shutter-barrage of a professional camera. Shit. Knowing the game is already up, the second those photos fly across to Dispatch, you allow Jeongguk to grab his precious picnic blanket and escape to his car, hands up to deflect the maximum amount of carnage.

You’re already on the phone to Hitman Bang telling him there’s been an incident, alongside the bare details of an admission. You can feel the iciness in his silence through the phone, and you’re honestly already preparing your leaving speech, but eventually he speaks: “Thank you for warning me. Please return to the apartment with him at once. I will meet you all there.” Puzzled that he didn’t fire you immediately, you call Namjoon to brief him and jump in the passenger side of Kookie’s re-roofed BMW convertible. He takes off the second you shut the door, plastering you back against the seat. He looks angry and scared, so you don’t speak at all, trusting him to know he needs to drive straight to the apartment, which he does.

Neither of you speak until he speeds into the underground garage and parks the car, upon which he puts his head on the steering wheel and swears softly in Korean.

“What am I going to do?” he murmurs, just barely loud enough for you to hear.

But it’s not until he raises his head to look at you pleadingly and repeats the question: “What am I going to do, noona?”, that you realize that the question isn’t rhetorical.

“Maybe you should go on the show?” you suggest, hesitantly, not believing you’re suggesting this. He looks hurt, but then resolute, perhaps realizing your intent. “It’s only pretend,” you add hastily, taking his hand in yours. He squeezes it and smiles weakly, giving it a little shake before letting go.

“Is PD-Nim upstairs?” he checks, already knowing the answer. You nod anyway.

He nods as well, facing back to the front and then closing his eyes, gathering himself for the onslaught. “Okay…” he sighs, opening his eyes. He turns to face you again, placing his hand gently on your cheek and kissing you insistently on the lips. “I won’t let him fire you,” he tells you fiercely. “I’ll quit first.” You know he’s trying to tell you how much he loves you, but you shake your head firmly.

“I won’t let you,” you tell him. “BTS is your whole life. The boys, ARMY, you can’t give that up for something as silly as the tabloids. You wouldn’t be happy. You wouldn’t be yourself.” He smiles sadly but sweetly.

“God, I love you,” he sighs.

“Love you too,” you reassure him. “Now, let’s go see if we can fix this mess.”

Considering the circumstances, you’re both careful not to display any signs of mutual affection when you enter, which seems to make Namjoon’s jaw relax at any rate. He gestures beyond him to where Hitman Bang is seated with the other boys, waiting for you.

“Do we have the…” You’re going to say photos, but Namjoon interrupts you with a curt nod and inclines his head to the older man. You bow your head penitently, feeling JK do the same beside you. You both wait an eternity for him to excuse you. He tells you to be seated which you both do, quickly and quietly, making sure to sit apart.

“We have the photos,” Hitman Bang tells you soberly. He turns to face Jeongguk, causing the younger man to bow his head again.

“Have you already broken up with Jisoo then, Jeongguk?” he asks bluntly. Jeongguk blushes hotly, before nodding and muttering “ye”. You’re simultaneously furious for him and proud of him for not taking the bait. It’s quite obvious that Bang PD is implying he’s as impatient and distractible in his personal life as he is with his hobbies. Yet Hitman Bang had been spared the repercussions of the ending of that relationship. It had been you, Namjoon and Hobi that had counselled and held JK, wiping his tears away when Jisoo had told him she couldn’t cope with the sasaeng hate anymore and dumped him over text. Not that he blamed her or spoke a word against her, saying he understood: that secretly dating an idol was widely acknowledged in the industry to be a nightmare. Yet now here he was brave enough to try again; to put his heart in someone else’s hands again.

“How bad are the photos?” you prompt Hitman Bang, your voice a little icy, as you make an instinctive gesture towards Jeongguk, still wanting to protect him from the ugly side of all this, even now, when he knows it so well. The older man, not missing the gesture or its meaning, turns towards you, and sighs.

“They’re actually not that terrible,” he acknowledges, grudgingly. “From our standpoint. They’re blurry and ambiguous and there’s only one of you both...(he clears his throat, clearly embarrassed)...together. The others are of Jeongguk with what appears to be your picnic blanket over his head.” He gestures to the open laptop screen in front of him and you take in the paparazzi’s handiwork. Two photos, as described, of Jeongguk making a dash for his car, and one of you both arguably cuddled up together, but Hitman Bang is right: it’s ambiguous and fortunately they caught you together when Jeongguk was momentarily engaged in collecting more food, rather than gazing into your eyes. But you’re still clearly very intimately positioned for work colleagues.

“What’s the damage?” you prompt. “Can we pay them off? Does anyone else have copies that might get leaked? What’s our official line on this? I’m not likely to pass for a trainee or another label artist. Friend visiting from Busan might work in a pinch?” you suggest, tentatively. Hitman Bang holds up his hand, and you recognise a slight smile starting on his face, as he remembers how enthusiastic you’ve always been about protecting the boys, right back from when you were working on the protect@bighit email.

“Dispatch are asking for (he motions towards the email again) a predictably outrageous sum to kill the story - though they do offer to kill it completely, so it doesn’t pop up anywhere else either. Apparently it was one of theirs, not a sasaeng as I feared. We can afford it. He sighs, more deeply this time. “But I don’t know how many more of Jeongguk’s escapades we can afford in the future.”

“It’s not just JK!” you leap to his defence. Hitman Bang actually allows himself a smile this time, albeit an ironic one.

“Jimin’s little Parisian adventure?” he asks. “Or the lyrical interlude? The point is none of that makes it any less dangerous. Or expensive. And Jeongguk, of all the boys, does love those Dispatch headlines,” he provokes you. You shoot him daggers, but he just raises his eyebrows and catches Namjoon’s eye. Namjoon looks at you guiltily, but concedes their boss’s point, with an apologetic shrug. “Look part of me even admires the sheer balls that it took to go out under the nose of the paparazzi like that, but please please can we refrain from the temptation in future?” he sums up. You realize he’s preparing to leave, and you want to offer him something, stunned that he hasn’t mentioned a thing about your job, implying nothing has changed there. Not to mention his tacit approval of you and Jeongguk continuing your relationship, if you’re discreet about it.

“Would it help...I mean did you still want Jeongguk to go on the game show?” you ask, trying to catch JK’s eye, but he’s spaced out, probably thanking his lucky stars that he somehow got away with this. Hitman Bang glances across at him as well.

“I mean probably not anymore,” he decides. “I’d rather keep the media’s eye off him for the moment until we’ve got something concretely positive to feed their gossip mills. Let’s talk again tomorrow.”

You’re still pondering what kind of miracle has occurred (somehow you’re not only still employed, but unofficially dating the boy you’re crazy about and not being forced to watch him fake-married to a pop starlet on prime-time television), almost a week later, while you wait together, outside the train station in Busan, for his parents to meet you with the car. You’ve both learnt your lesson about holding hands or cuddling in public, but you’re still awed at how he can slip under the radar in his hometown, safely clad in a black hoodie, jeans and sunglasses. He’s careful to keep his hands in his pockets, of course, to hide those giveaway tattoos, but all-in-all this almost feels normal.

You’re not waiting long before a nondescript car pulls up and Jeongguk nods to the driver, before gesturing to you to follow him, which, after a moment of shy hesitation, you do. You climb in the back and sit quietly, waiting for Jeongguk to explain your presence. From the look of the driver, it’s his brother, not his father, so you feel a teensy bit less nervous, but you still want to make a good impression.

“Nuguseyo?” the driver asks, throwing your bags in the trunk, as Jeongguk is still messing about with his seatbelt.

“Nae yeochin,” Jeongguk answers him, looking a little smug. The driver raises his eyebrows and lets out a low whistle, clearly as aware of the implications as you are, if not more so.

“Are you allowed a girlfriend, little brother?” he teases Jeongguk. He turns to you, and nods politely.

“Annyeong. Junghyun-i-e-yo,” he introduces himself. You nod back, shooting Jeongguk a nervous look. You’re still trying to process your sudden elevation to ‘girlfriend’ status, but you figure you shouldn’t be that surprised, if he’s bringing you home to meet his parents. Meanwhile Jeongguk isn’t happy with the introductions:

“Aish, hyung! She’s your noona~,” he protests. Junghyun’s eyebrows go even further up. ‘Wow’ he mouths, giving his younger brother a look somewhere between impressed and scandalised. “Mianhamnida, noona,” he apologizes to you gravely.

“Gwaenchanaeyo,” you wave it off quickly, embarrassed. “Ruby-yeyo.” You ride home in companionable mostly-silence, Junghyun occasionally pointing out local landmarks or points of interest, as Jeongguk zones out in the front seat. The boys’ parents are waiting in the front room when you all enter and you bow formally, standing slightly behind Jeongguk. This time he is quicker to explain.

“I sarameun je yeojachingu, Ruby-noona-ipnida,” he murmurs, to the floor. You can tell Junghyun is desperately trying to keep his face neutral, waiting to see what response his parents are going to have. To their credit, they both manage to maintain their composure, though the news that their younger son is suddenly dating has clearly taken them aback. You do notice his father’s eyes twinkle a little at the ‘noona’ addition though. You follow Jeongguk’s lead, and murmur your salutations in formal speech, to the floor.

To your relief, the rest of the evening is actually lovely and you understand enough Korean to keep up with much of the conversation and be careful to use jondaemal, so it doesn’t get too awkward. Naturally Jeongguk’s parents are full of questions for you, so you answer as graciously and honestly as you can, knowing that, like you, they just want to protect him. Jeongguk’s mother laughs, cute, when he points out that, like you, she was attracted to a younger man and wasn’t shy about showing her interest. You tell them about the bells and how long it’s taken you and Jeongguk to finally admit that you fancied each other, and Jeongguk’s mother tells you all about her courtship with his father and some cute stories about Jeongguk.

Eventually, you tell them that you had better head to the hotel you will be staying at overnight, before you and Jeongguk both catch a train back to Seoul the next evening, but Jeongguk’s parents insist you stay there, even though you protest that they barely get to see their son, whereas you live at the dorm with him. You only give in when you realise that they want to see how you behave as a guest as well as Jeongguk’s girlfriend and potential future wife. So no pressure or anything, as you tease him, in a whisper, when they leave you both alone, after showing you to the guest bedroom.

“You don’t need to feel pressure: I love you, and that’s all that matters to them. They are good parents,” he assures you, making you feel a little bad for teasing.

“This is a lovely room,” you tell him, changing the subject, nervously.

“Yeah, I never get to sleep in here,” he marvels, looking around in satisfaction. “I always have to sleep in my old bedroom, or on Junghyun’s floor.” You look at him amused.

“Revealing the true reason you told them we’re dating,” you provoke him. He sticks his tongue out, then moves across to start pulling his things out of his bag. You smile to yourself before doing the same with your bag, but Jeongguk stops what he’s doing to come across and kiss you softly on the lips.

“Jigeum dangjang wanjonhi manjokamniyo?” he whispers, his arms habitually slipping around your waist to pull you closer to him. You gently stroke a loose tendril of his hair behind his ear and kiss him back.

“Wanjonhi,” you assure him, draping your arms around his neck. He bites his bottom lip and shuts his eyes, wrinkling his nose adorably. “Mwo?” You laugh.

“Well...I was kinda banking on you being at that hotel, so I could sneak out later and ...you know...take advantage of our lack of company,” he complains. “I wanted to show you how loud I can get, so you know how much I’ve been holding back.” You exhale another breath of gentle laughter.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” you coo. “Let’s use this occasion to reassure your parents that we’re not just in lust with each other, okay? So they know I’ll always look after you well.”

“Okay,” he smiles wanly. You poke him gently in the ribs. “Maybe we can stop by a yanolja hotel tomorrow night, when we get back to Seoul instead,” you suggest.

“Jinjja?!” he checks, his eyes wide.

“Yes, really! Why not? I’m game. And I never get to spoil you properly these days, without it looking like I’m playing favourites.” you grin, making his eyes sparkle. You pull out your phone to make the booking online, making him purr with satisfaction and nuzzle into your neck. You fix yourselves up, then drift back out to the living room for a proposed nightcap with his parents. Jonghyun has gone into his room to do some work, so you chat to Jeongguk’s mother, while he retires into the study with his father and some whisky. You and his mother manage to have a lovely relaxed girls’ night, during which his mother tells you some priceless anecdotes and little tricks she assures you will work on her son’s naturally-flighty and distractible nature. In turn, you update her on some of the members’ recent escapades and reassure her that you always take care to be fiercely protective of her son’s interests, having fallen for him at first sight and not wavered in your affections since. She seems pleased with this news and takes your hands affectionately, before proposing that you both listen to some old records, which you’re happy to do.

When you notice her discreetly getting tired, you check what time breakfast will be prepared and insist that you will get up to help her, whilst the men sleep in, then retire to the guest room to ‘rest’ and wait for Jeongguk to join you. He comes in after another half-hour or so, gives you a nightcap-crooked smile and quite deliberately locks the door behind him, making you shiver with desire.

“Slight change of plan,” he intones, his voice husky and his eyes bedroom-ravenous. “Ot beoso-bwa: Neorang jago shipeo…”

“But jagi...:” you protest weakly. He ignores you, closing the distance between you swiftly and kissing you with all the heat of a passion thwarted by circumstance. He tastes like whisky with an undertone of his own personal taste, that you’ve already come to be helplessly addicted to over the past week. “We can be quiet,” he pleads, seemingly unable to stop kissing you long enough for you to even respond. “Jebal, noona...Jagiya~” His pretty begging is belied by his insatiable hands, which are already under your deliberately-modest nightdress, caressing your naked breasts and tweaking your hardening nipples impatiently. You barely have time to gasp “but tomorrow night…” before his fingers are racing down your abdomen to dip inside you greedily.

“Ah shibal...you’re so ready for me…” he moans softly, fumbling desperately with his belt and jeans-zipper. Giving in, you grind your hips against his hand, letting his fingers slide all the way in, to play with your clit, as you help him remove his jeans. His cock is ridiculously hard and quivering with a life of its own, but you barely have time to register this before he’s tipped you back onto the bed and is deep inside you, thrusting urgently and messily as his moans bury themselves in your cleavage.

You cling to him, trying to memorize every inch of him, just in case reality ever invades your shared safe haven and this night is all you have to remember him by. His taut thighs are shaking with the effort of the pleasure he’s bestowing on you and the delicate, feathery warmth of his breath on your skin sets your entire body vibrating to his touch. He’s quick and quiet as promised though, collapsing on his back next to you, to rake his tattooed fingers through his dishevelled hair, as you watch him fondly. He laughs, exhausted and drops his arm back onto the pillows, his chest still heaving.

“Aiyah, I need to take a shower,” he groans. “You made me all sweaty,” he teases, sticking his tongue out and winking discreetly. He’s surprisingly quick and you jump in after him, switching to your slightly-lighter summer nightgown as soon as you’ve towelled off. He purrs his approval, though you had been careful to choose everything with high necklines for even your summery options, not being sure which clothes his parents might see on this visit. This one is a little shorter though, and Jeongguk doesn’t miss the opportunity to give you a resounding slap on the ass when you pass by him on your way to collect your comb. You roll your eyes indulgently.

“You’re doing a great job of making us look like we’re in a serious, grown-up relationship,” you needle him, with a giggle. He looks fake-affronted.

“I’ve been a perfect gentleman all evening,” he defends himself. You soften, and lean across to kiss him gently.

“You have been. Until you locked the door,” you agree. “Now unlock it, in case your mother needs to come in for anything,” you tell him firmly. “It was incredibly kind of them to let me stay here overnight, and share you like this, and I don’t want to be disrespectful.” He makes a cute, pouting, aegyo gesture, but obliges you, before climbing into the king-size bed, pulling you into his arms, and settling himself to drift off to sleep, spooning you. You sigh happily, and cuddle up close, fully aware that you’ve never been able to be this “couple-y” back at the dorm apartment, even if you have managed to steal all those moments together.

You wake up somehow still in his arms, though you quickly scoot across the bed to flick your alarm off before it can wake him. He whines softly in his sleep, so you nudge your pillows closer to him and watch him wrap himself around them with a cute little satisfied noise. You laugh to yourself at his unconscious aegyo and head out to the kitchen to help his mother with the breakfast.

You make sure to take yourself off to the train station soon after your meal, ensuring that Jeongguk gets to spend some time alone with his family by explaining that you have lots of work to do back in Seoul. His mother sees what you’re trying to do and smiles softly at you as you all say your farewells. You remind Jeongguk to meet the company car at Apgujeong station at seven, rather than Seoul station at six. He winks at you discreetly, so you know he’s remembered why.

“So...just how noisy are you planning to be?” you whisper as he kisses you fervently. “Am I going to need to alert the police, so they know not to intervene?” You’re finally holed up together in one of Korea’s most famous ‘love motels’ with an hour at your disposal. Jeongguk has tried to convince you via text, while he was travelling back up on the KTX, to buy a whole night, but you’ve reminded him that you’re already pushing it. You’re assuming it’s as a direct result of having his overnight bid rejected that, upon arriving, he immediately dropped his bag straight on the floor, scooped you into his arms, and started devouring you with fiery kisses, without even stopping to greet you.

“C’mon, noona~” he whines, his lips gearing up for pout-mode, as you gently push him away to admire him at arm’s length.

“Someone took you shopping?” you guess, making his eyes sparkle with mischief. He tosses his mane of dark hair away from his face and the pout hesitates, twitches, and reforms itself into a smirk.

“Do you like it?” he asks, preening a little, as he adjusts his lapels and flips his hair again, a little self-consciously. You nod, smiling at his shy modelling of the look.

“I love it. You look amazing,” you tell him.

“I’m going to dye my hair dark colours for...for later...as well,” he murmurs.

“It’s already dark?” you point out.

“No. Like dark colours, but different to the natural colour,” he elaborates.

“I see. And later?” you echo his words, bemused. “Later like the next comeback?” He shakes his head.

“No...like...later later. ‘Cos you like dark colours on me, you said a few times...” he trails off, then laughs at himself softly. “Stop distracting me with talking, noona~ I want to kiss you so much right now,” he tells you, the pout returning.

“So kiss me. You don’t need anyone’s permission for that,” you tell him.

“Do I not?” he counters. You shake your head, unable to speak as you drink in his ethereal beauty. His eyes sparkle as he takes your chin in his hands and kisses you hungrily, biting your bottom lip in his passionate ardour. You kiss him back, as starving for his kisses as he is eager to bestow them on you. You’re so distracted by the black magic his lips and tongue are working on you that you don’t even notice him stripping you both until you feel the heat of his bare skin against your own and realise that you’re standing naked in each others’ arms.

He lets you suck on his tongue, as he lifts you up to sit astride his hips, with your legs wrapped about his waist, before walking the few steps to slam you up against the wall. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath before you feel him slide up inside you, simultaneously giving voice to an airy moan of pleasure that sets your whole body tingling. His kisses and bites head south until you can feel his breath warm on your neck as his moans increase their pitch and volume, interspersed with cuss words in both English and Korean.

“Oh! Jeongguk-ah!” you gasp, clinging to him and kissing every inch of him you can reach, as his hips shudder with increasingly messy haste.

“Oh Noona! Oh fuck! Oh shi~FUCK! Oh NE!” he responds, his voice raised to a pitch he usually reserves for online gaming or vocal practice. Somewhere in the room, muffled by your bag, you hear your phone start to ring. Without missing a beat, Jeongguk growls “ignore it,” raising your leg to rest on his shoulder to adjust his angle. You let out a tiny yelp of surprise and alarm at feeling yourself stretched further than you were aware you were capable of, but he must think you’re objecting, as he elaborates: “c’mon, noona, don’t worry about it. Neukkimi wa~!”

“I’m not, I’m just-ah! Kookie!!” you squeal. “I don’t know if I can get that high!”

“Course you can - I’ve got you,” he gasps, with a wicked little smile, thrusting himself into you faster and faster. “Seriously: gibun joha! Oh my God!” he groans, sounding ironically like he’s actually in pain.

“Are you okay, jagi?!” you ask, slightly concerned that he’s hurt himself.

“Mmf shibal, ne,” he giggles, kissing you softly, then nipping your lip. “Come over to the mirror…” he murmurs, letting you down to the ground and pulling you insistently towards the mirrored wardrobe door panels. “I want to watch you while I fuck you at behind...at the back?” he tries, checking your eyes to see if he’s on the right track, and making you smile.

“From behind,” you correct him gently, blushing. He blushes as well and you kiss him softly. “Such a dirty mouth for such a beautiful boy,” you tease him, in Korean. His eyes widen and a tiny smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he fishes one of your heels from the shoe rack by the wardrobe.

“Put these back on?” he requests.

“Oh really?” you ask, raising your eyebrows in amusement.

“Ne. Jebal,” he nods decisively.

“Do you not want me to put the rest back on then?” you check, gesturing at the suspender belt and filmy stockings. He looks puzzled. “Not all the clothes. Just the lingerie,” you amend.

“Oh!” he nods, to show you he’s understood. “Eung. Ne ranjeri joha,” he affirms, with a coy smile. You quickly slip your bra, stockings and suspender belt back on, feeling his eyes devour you as you do so. When you come back over to him, he embraces you from behind, watching your joint reflections in the mirror. The lingerie seems to entrance him.

“Nomu yeppeoyo…” he whispers into your ear.

“Jeongguk, do-yo,” you murmur, smiling into his eyes in his reflection. Exhaling, with a sigh, he lets his hands skim your sides, following the curves of your breasts and hips, until you feel his erection return, teasing the insides of your thighs. His head dips to lick the curve of your neck and you can feel his warm breath tickling your over-sensitive skin. He slips his hands inside the cups of your bra, making you gasp as the cold air hits your exposed skin. He stares at your reflection for an interval, his eyes drawn first to your exposed breasts, and then to your legs, angled at a high tilt from the heels.

“Go on then,” you breathe. “Show me what you’re made of Kookie.” You watch him bite his lip and close one eye, cute, clearly reassessing his bold claim last night.

“Oh I see,” you laugh gently. “Now you’re shy?” Well, that works. Repositioning himself, he gives you a defiantly cocky look and draws you back onto his erection making you gasp loudly. Reacting to your gasp, he groans loudly and then proceeds to give voice to a litany of moans that would make a whore blush.

“Faster, Kook! Oh my God ne!” you encourage him, too caught up in the act and in his beauty - reflected in the mirror as he enjoys himself - to give any thought to who might overhear you both. You’re close to collapsing from your shaking legs, when he gasps: “maltagi haeboja?” and grabs you around the waist with one arm, swiftly transferring you to the bed, before falling onto his back and gesturing to you to straddle him. Indulging him, you throw one leg across him, lean down to kiss his pretty mouth and simultaneously reach behind to lower yourself onto his erection.

“Oh shiBAL!” he yelps, throwing his head back and tossing his dark hair everywhere. His hips are going like a jackhammer, and it’s hard to keep your balance, but you manage somehow, making you both giggle as you’re tossed about like a ship on the waves. His brings his hands around from your thighs to grab your ass hard and you raise your hips a little to bounce up and down on him, making him swear again and toss his head feverishly. His moans slip into pleading gasps and almost-sobbing sounds and you can feel his hip-thrusts getting messier as he gets closer to finishing.

“Oh jebal!” he whimpers, gritting his teeth as the orgasm starts to sneak up on him. You wiggle around, letting him hit your g-spot until you feel your muscles start to contract around his erection.

“Ssalkeogata?” he gasps. You nod frantically, not wanting him to stop before you feel the waves hit you. He swallows hard, then follows up with “Same! Odiro hallae?”

“Eolgul-eso,” you whisper, wanting to reward his efforts. You lean forward to kiss his neck, and let your hands stray up to his nipples.

“Unf!” he grunts, “quick then - get down there!” You glide yourself off him carefully, then angle yourself between his legs, earning yourself a prolonged growl of pleasure as his hips jerk and thick ribbons of his jizz paint your upturned face.

“Mm,” he murmurs, his eyes already sliding shut. “That was hot.” You let him cuddle up to you for ten minutes or so, but then feel obliged to point out that your hour is swiftly coming to a close. “You need to get dressed, jagi. You guys have that slot on Jimmy Kimmel later tonight, remember?” you coax him. “What will ARMY think if you’re all spacey?” His laugh is full of mischief.

“They won’t think anything. I’m spacey plenty of the time,” he points out. “That’s like asking Jimin not to fall off his chair.” He sticks his tongue out, and then darts out of your way as you go to smack him lightly. He starts pulling his clothes back on and you do the same. “Oh wait!” he remembers, as he lights upon a tissue-paper package in his bag. “I got you something as well.” He holds it out to you shyly. You unwrap it with trembling fingers as he watches you anxiously. Nestled in the tissue-paper is a stunning, rose madder, satin negligee.

“Oh wow, JK...Are you...sure you should be spending this kind of money on me?” you ask tentatively. He gives you a deep, rather forceful kiss in reply, his arms wrapping possessively around your waist, as if you’re in any doubt that he owns you.

“Wear it when you go to bed tonight,” he demands. You raise your eyebrows at his imperious tone, but smile and agree to his terms, accepting another lingering kiss as a signed, sealed and delivered contract. “Also, I’m coming in your room later and sleeping there,” he informs you, leaving no room for debate.

And so it is that, after lights-out in the dorm, you see your door slide silently back to reveal Jeongguk in (what you are to discover are deliberately-chosen) cobalt-blue satin pyjama bottoms and no shirt. Pretty, sleepy and refreshingly innocent, he turns his head away politely to yawn, then pads softly over to your bed, slips his room slippers off, and cuddles up close to you under the sheets. You turn to kiss him goodnight, but he’s already mostly asleep, and your insides curl happily at the thought that he genuinely just wanted to be with you when he fell asleep.

He stretches with a satisfied sound when he comes to the next morning, apparently not bothered by the sound of his insane alarm, which you wonder if you’ll ever get used to, though you’re aware that you’re leaping ahead in even considering such things. He turns his lovely doe-eyed gaze on your face, and then skims the curves of your body - clad in your present from him - lightly with his hand, letting his eyes follow along.

“Mmm...you wore this to bed like I asked,” he mumbles, obviously pleased.

“Mm-hm,” you murmur back, still half-asleep.

“Humm...look at you...look at us…” he purrs, tangling his legs with yours and running his tattooed hand from his own blue-covered leg to your red-covered one. You’re both splayed on your white sheets with the black satin pillows tossed everywhere by your sleeping limbs, and it takes you a second to take it all in, but then you realise.

“Oh yeah! Taegeukgi!” you laugh gently, amused by his cleverness but apparently completely missing what he’s implying. You don’t miss the look in his beautiful eyes though. He looks first bewildered, but then just slightly disappointed and you worry that you’ve somehow hurt him. You kiss him gently and smile into his eyes.

“Did you want to try and take a photograph?” you check, still unsure what you’ve said or done, or more likely not said or done. He hesitates, thinking it over, but then shakes his head and kisses you lingeringly to let you know you’re forgiven for your transgression. You rack your brain for anything vital you might have missed in the flag’s symbolism while you were researching Korean culture, prior to your move here, but strangely the puzzle pieces only come together in your head months later.

You all manage to drift along in peaceful contentment for around a month until the day Hobi walks in on Jeongguk sobbing quietly in your arms because he’s so embarrassed that the weight he has recorded that morning is just slightly over the body-fat percentage ratio that the company had demanded from him.

“Hey guys! Anyone up for a coffee date?” chirps the dance leader, tossing his gym bag on one of the couches and pirouetting on the spot. “I was thinking we could try that new…” he trails off as he takes in the scene in front of him, catching your eye over Jeongguk’s shaking shoulders. “I mean later... I’m just gonna grab a snack…” he amends, making his escape quickly, but not without a sympathetic grimace at the back of Jeongguk’s head.

He’s discreet enough not to mention anything in JK’s presence, when the latter insists on dragging you into the kitchen with him to follow up on the coffee proposal.

“We’ll come with you to the new coffee place, hyung!” he announces brightly, his eyes still sparkling unnaturally, though he’s let you dab some cream on his eyelids to cover up the puffy redness and his hand is gripping yours a little too tightly.

“Um, sure. Just let me finish my snack, and I’ll bring the car around,” Hoseok nods agreeably, graciously giving you space to head back into the living room. You know better than to question Jeongguk’s course of action when he’s in a heightened state, so you just cuddle up next to him on the couch and wait for Hobi to let you know he’s ready. After a moment, you let your hand stray to the hemline of JK’s t-shirt and dance your fingers lightly over his abs. He looks shy and a little surprised when he catches your eye. You smile up at him fake-innocently.

“So sexy, babe,” you coo. “You should show this off more.” You press his t-shirt up teasingly, making him blush and yank it back down.

“Noona~ Hobi’s about to come get us,” he whines, but the little smile he tries to hide lets you know he’s flattered so you hope you’ve undone at least some of the damage.

“He obviously trusts you,” Hobi is plea-bargaining with you before the next comeback. “And don’t even think I don’t know he was crying the other day, before we went to get coffee either. And why he was upset. I’m not stupid. He’s always down when he’s been binging and they spot check us. And Jin had to physically stop him eating the other day, so we all knew he was going to spiral. But that’s the first time I know of that he’s confided in anyone about it.” It’s true that you’ve all noticed Jeongguk’s weight yo-yo-ing and this time you and Hobi are a little frightened at the amount he’s lost so quickly and how he’s managing it. You grimace in acknowledgement of Hoseok’s words.

“Well I haven’t seen him eat anything today,” you agree, thinking it over. “Or yesterday for that matter. I was assuming he’d eat when you guys were scheduled?” Hoseok shakes his head sharply with a glum look.

“Nothing,” he laments.

“Shit,” you curse. “I don’t know what we can do. You know he won’t listen to reason...or compliments,” you sigh helplessly. Hoseok sighs as well.

You’ve both reached an impasse in your plotting when the object of your speculation flits into the room, looking suspiciously pleased with himself and acting a little tipsy. You and Hoseok exchange a look. Tipsy may be the vibe, but neither of you have seen him anywhere near anything other than his ubiquitous bottles of water for at least three days, so you’re guessing it’s lightheadedness that’s the culprit.

“Been out, JayKay?” Hoseok tries conversationally.

“Mm-hm,” Jeongguk replies, nodding, but keeping his lips together. You and Hoseok exchange another uneasy look. Instead of elaborating, the maknae scoops you into his arms and kisses you deeply, making Hobi turn away, flustered.

“Oh...ooh...Oh!” you exclaim, surprised by his romantic gesture and then by the unmistakable feel of metal against your tongue. You laugh in relief as you realise why he kept his lips together. He’s gotten his tongue pierced.

“You know you’re not meant to kiss anyone when that’s healing?” you reprimand him lightly. Hobi looks across, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Apparently JayKay is still working on his mission to give Korean parents everywhere heart failure,” you update him. Jeongguk obediently sticks out his tongue, demonstrating. Hobi laughs, exasperated.

“She’s right about the kissing,” he comments. “And kimchi too. Better lay off the kimchi…” he stammers to a stop, realising what he’s saying. “Actually, it’s probably fine, so long as you wash it after,” he mumbles, awkward as you all try to skirt around the subject of your golden maknae’s pre-comeback eating habits. Bit by bit though, Jeongguk starts to confide in you when he’s worried about his weight and you do your best to help him eat healthily and remind him that ARMY love to see him enjoy his food and gradually he inches towards a healthier body-image, though there are still setbacks, and you have to be very careful to praise his looks when he’s at a healthy weight and not to overdo the praise when he overdoes the dieting.

Yet none of this alerts you to what Jeongguk is building up to, and apparently none of the others are any the wiser, so he takes you all by surprise the day he puts his plan into action. You’re all at a company picnic, due to progress to dinner and drinks once the sun dips below the horizon. You and Jeongguk have already fended off the usual stellar jokes from the hyung line, pitched just at the level to needle you both without arousing the suspicion of the staff:

“How are you feeling JK?” asks Yoongi in an overly-solicitous manner. Jeongguk narrows his eyes, vaguely aware where this might be headed.

“Fine,” he allows, warily. Yoongi continues to feign concern.

“That’s good. Cos that stomach ache you had last night sounded pretty bad,” he quips, catching Namjoon’s eye. Namjoon grins and chimes in:

“Yeah. We can get you some pepto-bismol for that if it keeps up,” he concurs.

“Pepto-bismol?” overhears Jin, joining the attack. “Good idea. Maybe we should grab some mosquito repellant as well,” he nods sagely. “Poor Noona seems to be their favourite snack lately.” The staff members milling around within earshot miss the implications, but neither you nor Jeongguk do. He shoots you a mischievous look and you return it with a warning look.

“Are we that loud?” you mutter to Namjoon, when he passes you a plate of food. He raises his eyebrows and gives you a broad grin.

“We could hear him moaning from the living room last night. It didn’t quite go with the classical soundtrack of the documentary we were watching on ‘galaxies beyond our own’,” he informs you, in an amused undertone.

“Sorry,” you grimace, feeling your cheeks flush. Namjoon shrugs indulgently. “And the hickeys?” you prompt, uneasily. “Are they that obvious?”

“Subtle is not Jeon Jeongguk’s middle name,” Namjoon reminds you, wryly. “Look, from my point of view, your bizarre courtship rituals are pretty funny, if not even a little bit romantic on occasion.” He pauses, with a deep sigh. “I just don’t know that management will see it that way,” he points out. Turns out Jeongguk has other ideas on that as you and Joon are about to discover. Bangtan’s leader is watching you pick at the leftovers of your food as he regales you with the details of the documentary you missed, when Jeongguk materialises at his shoulder.

“May I interrupt, hyung?” he checks nervously and very formally.

“Uh, sure...What’s up JK?” Joon asks, trying to bring the register down. Instead of adapting, Jeongguk clears his throat and extends his hand to take yours in his as he, rather melodramatically and very gracefully sinks to one knee. That gets the attention of the rather taken aback staff and members. As for you, you’re too flustered to move and can’t take your eyes off his. Your mouth feels dry and you’re finding it hard to swallow as you feel your heart beating way too fast. What is he playing at? you think to yourself, your head whirling as you try to think of other plausible explanations.

“Ruby-noona, narang gyeolhonhae juseyo,” he requests in full honorifics, his voice trembling only the tiniest bit. “Oh…” he interrupts himself, his voice dropping in volume and register, “Moksori-ga tteolryeo…” Nobody else moves, or says anything. You’re all too stunned by his sudden vulnerability. Finally, you unfreeze and smile warmly down at his anxious face. Without even a glance to check whether it’s okay with the staff or your boss, you nod your head enthusiastically.

“Ne! Sucheon bon-iyo! ” you exclaim, bending to kiss his perfect lips. His eyes widen as he registers your lips on his and you feel him smile as well. Getting to his feet, he lifts you up above his head and kisses you again, revelling in the purity of the moment and the joy of his own strength.

By the day of the wedding, your head is still spinning over how quickly everything has happened from the day you first kissed until the day first his parents and then the company agreed to your marriage. His parents didn’t take much convincing, but you’re both still a little bruised from how much the company resisted. In the end, you agreed to a very private ceremony and only the most cursory of press statements. Neither you nor Jeongguk had wanted to announce anything to the public, but Hybe had insisted, pointing out that saying nothing would likely blow up in your faces later.

You want to get married in the evening, so you manage to hire Gyeongbokgung Palace grounds for the ceremony, which has you in raptures over how pretty the background of your vows is going to be and him nostalgic over the last time he was here, performing a showcase for an American broadcast. You book your mother, best friends and brother flights over to Korea, and Jeongguk kisses you tenderly and takes you gently in his arms, pulling you onto his lap when you explain to him that your father has already passed away so he won’t get the chance to meet him and hear from his daughter how lucky she is to have found such an amazing man.

You ask him if there’s anyone that you’re expected to invite and he laughs softly and tells you his parents will arrange most of that, but he will make sure to invite your mutual friends here in Seoul and to let him know if there’s anyone else you or your mother want there. When everyone arrives in Seoul, you, your mother and your girlfriends join Jeongguk’s mother who guides you all graciously through the hanbok fittings, making sure everyone has the colouring correct. Of course your mother opts for purple over pink and you laughingly tell her that you’ll allow it because “Borahae!” (complete with ‘kimchi’ pose) which confuses her a bit but makes the others laugh. You fall in love with your own rich, red hanbok, carefully chosen by Jeongguk’s mother, and go to your trusted hairdresser to discuss hairstyles. You’re tempted to let your own mother choose your jewellery, but she laughs knowingly and says not to worry: she knows your taste is wildly different from hers.

And then finally, there’s the jeon-an-rye ceremony: Jeongguk, blushing shyly, as he bows twice and presents your enchanted mother with a beautiful kireogi. She eagerly tells him that your father was very fond of the symbol of a wild goose and, indeed, had them embroidered on his ecclesiastical robes when he was promoted. Jeongguk misses a lot of what she says, but picks up the gist, and that what she is saying has something to do with your father, nodding along shyly as she speaks.

So in the end here you are, sitting in state in one of the little rooms off the main court of Gyeongbokgung, greeting the seemingly endless stream of guests while Jeongguk entertains everyone, including his 97-line buddies, outside. Thank God, your girl friends are happy to stay in the room with you, alongside a couple of the lovely junior Hybe staff girls, who make sure that you’re kept looking as fresh as a daisy and have plenty of water and fruit. Ellie, Mai and Yugyeom’s wife, Cass keep you entertained, periodically checking on what the boys are up to and reporting back. Meanwhile, your mother and your best friend are being looked after by your brother, nephew and Japanese sister-in-law who at least have some East Asian cultural awareness, although Jeongguk has made sure they have a translator with them as none of them speak any Korean.

Finally, one of the senior Hybe girls comes back into the room. The girl bows deeply and tells you that it’s time to come out, as the officials have arrived, and the kunbere ceremony is due to begin. Trying not to feel nervous all over again, you adjust your hanbok, letting the staff girls check you over and your girls check your hair and makeup, then they all fan out ahead of you to take their places in the prettily-decorated seats that are neatly laid out in blocks with a ribbon-lined aisle down the centre, leading up to the dais where you glimpse the celebrant, the MC and your beautiful fiance waiting patiently, patting his cheek with the back of his hand, then adjusting his dark purple bangs fastidiously.

Followed by your mother and future mother-in-law, you step out into the fairy-lit courtyard and step into the aisle as musicians begin to play a lilting wedding tune-version of “Euphoria”. Jeongguk smiles at you quickly, then lowers his eyes, still shy at having one of his songs as the wedding march. His eyes are sparkling more than the fairy lights as you join him on the dais. He takes your hand in a pure, innocent gesture of affection, and you both step in front of the celebrant. His hand is soft and warm and you feel a rush of love for him as he tilts his head to catch your eye again, and sends you a tiny smile.

The actual ceremony is, of course, standardly Korean - short and sweet. Jeongguk says his vows with heartfelt sincerity, his low, husky speaking-voice making you catch your breath. You speak your vows slowly and clearly, careful to get your pronunciation right, as he watches you, smiling his gentle encouragement. You share the traditional glass of wine, though you’re more than happy to leave him the lion’s share of the contents, grimacing as you swallow the bitter liquid. You laugh softly at his pantomime, eyes wide over the rim of the glass as he quickly downs the remains.

You both bow to your guests, then make your way back down the aisle as the musicians play - this time an instrumental of So-u-ju, that Jeongguk seems less shy about, judging by his mischievous wink at Yugyeom and Jimin as you pass them. You’re headed down to Busan tomorrow morning, to stay at Gamcheon Culture Village for your brief honeymoon (which Jeongguk has insisted include a tour of Haedong Yonggungsa Temple), but you’ve decided to hold the post-wedding banquet at the Signiel Hotel, where you’ll then spend your wedding night. Jeongguk is full of suggestive whispers as you share some champagne in the limo, but you laugh gently and tease him that he probably won’t last the night, if he keeps up the pace with his drinking. He looks mock-offended, staring at you open-mouthed as you dutifully pour him another drink.

“Wae?!” he reprimands you, before taking the glass in both hands and draining the contents, his beautiful, dark eyes fixed on yours.

“Ah, was that too disrespectful, nae nampyeon-nim?” you amend quickly, bowing your head. You’re still nervous that you won’t adapt to being a good Korean wife, or that, due to cultural expectations you may not be aware of, Kookie will expect different behaviour from you now that you’re married. He seems to understand your nervousness because he smiles at you, cute and places the glass on the little glass-topped counter by your shared bench-seat.

“You don’t have to use -nim,” he tells you, gently. “Especially not when we are alone. And the teasing is fine too. I would prefer if you are respectful when we are in company, just because that’s what is expected for…” he pauses, looking for the correct term.

“Face?” you suggest. He nods, shy.

“Yes. For saving face in Korea, it’s best for how people see both of us if my wife is respectful. Especially because I’ve married a foreigner and sometimes people can be...unsure with that. But when we’re alone like this nothing will change.”

“Okay, babydoll,” you murmur, drawn in again by his lovely lips. He returns your kiss, then lets you cuddle up to him as he polishes off the rest of the champagne. He’s pretty intoxicated by the time you arrive at the hotel, but if anything it’s just made him more flirty so your only worry is keeping the festivities PG-rated. This concern deepens as you come out of your hotel room bathroom in your reception attire and his hands go straight around you, stroking the exposed skin at the base of the plunging back of your dress.

“You look fire, jagi,” he purrs into your ear. You giggle and pull slightly back still in his embrace, fixing your earrings so that they won’t get caught in the loose locks of your hairdo.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, mister,” you compliment him, taking in his black dress suit, satiny black shirt and gold chain necklace. “Wait, excuse me, what’s this though?” you laugh softly. He looks mischievous, like he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he has to tease you first.

“C’mon, noona. You know I hate ties,” he pouts, brushing imaginary lint off his lapels. You give him a wry look.

“Yes. I know. And you know that’s not what I’m referring to,” you persist, trailing your finger down his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned halfway down to his waist. He sticks his tongue out cheekily and grabs your hand to pull you out the door into the main corridor.

Sighing and shaking your head, you follow him over to the elevator, trotting to keep up in your heels. You get a little round of applause when you walk into the grand ballroom together, holding hands and then you’re free to mingle and graze on the banchan while they cook the meat you’ve ordered.

BamBam tells you, blushing a little, that you look pretty and you feel a sudden pang of guilt as you realize, with the full force of hindsight, that he has always been very sweet towards you and that there might have been something behind that. Jeongguk looks away, pushing his tongue into his cheek, then jealously pulls you over to examine the cake you’re going to cut later.

“Come on, JK. He was just being polite,” you caution him.

“He’s always thought you were pretty. He used to say so when we all hung out,” Jeongguk pouts, downing another shot of soju.

“Yet he’s always been a perfect gentleman. And then here I am, married to you,” you point out, stroking a tendril of his hair away from his eyes. He twists his lips in acknowledgement of this fact, then turns his attention to the cake.

“Is it mint choc?” he checks, anxiously. You hold back a giggle and regard him with a serious face.

“That’s what we asked for, so I imagine so,” you reassure him, keeping your eyes modestly down. He smiles and takes your face in his hands, kissing you lingeringly.

Of course, Yugyeom and Cass, having overheard this exchange, don’t miss the chance to wreck a little havoc:

“Wow, gross. Planning on eating the entire thing yourselves then?” Cass needles you mischievously.

“That’s a very tight dress, noona,” Yugyeom observes, sizing you up and taking in JK’s barely-concealed predatory gaze following your every move. He clears his throat and catches his wife’s eye. “I mean I’m assuming it’s just to make sure you don’t catch any chestnuts at the pyebaek?”

“No,” you tell him. “We’re just going to skip it altogether, sorry to disappoint, Yugs.” Yugyeom looks a little scandalized, but Jeongguk just raises his eyebrow in confirmation and points out that ‘I’m all the babie Noona will ever need, anyway,’ whilst cuddling you back against him and pouting for another kiss, with which you oblige him willingly.

“Ha! Not to mention all the trouble she’ll ever need,” Yugyeom adds, sotto voce as Jeongguk swipes himself another bottle of soju. You pretend not to hear Yugyeom, and turn the focus back on the only-recently married couple.

“So how many chestnuts did Cassandra catch?” you ask them teasingly. Yugyeom cuddles his Dutch-Australian wife in turn, lifting her hair away to kiss her neck.

“Enough,” he gloats, making her laugh and elbow him good-naturedly.

You girls let the boys rib each other playfully, and you’re careful to join the fray only when called upon by your new husband to back him up. You must pass the test, because in the end Yugyeom concedes playfully that ‘wow, you’ve trained her well. She’s transformed from our savage noona into a perfect little Korean wife in a matter of hours,’ which makes Jeongguk preen a little. You and Cass chat for a while, then you finally catch a moment to have a proper chat with your best friend, making Jeongguk sulk a little as he tries to follow the rather intense and rapid-fire conversation. Cass sidles up to Jeongguk, looking amused, and pulls him aside.

“Don’t worry about it JK,” she reassures him. “They’ve known each other forever and I’m not entirely sure anyone else speaks their private language. It’s not an English thing and it’s not a romantic thing either. Anyway, she loves you to bits, so that’s not a fight worth having.” Jeongguk nods his understanding, then returns to your side, resting his chin on your shoulder and watching you fondly, as you speak and listen animatedly. You notice he’s there at the same time your best friend does and you both smile at him and readjust your conversation so that he can follow along comfortably.

“Right,” your best friend announces after a short while longer, “I shall release you into the custody of this incredibly attractive young man, and go acquire some delicious Korean cuisine for myself.” He smiles at Jeongguk, congratulates him and makes his way over to the buffet. Jeongguk looks after him, a little bewildered, then kisses you insistently and a little possessively.

“Come back down to our room with me for a bit,” he murmurs against your lips, nipping your bottom one for emphasis.

“You’re naughty, Kookie,” you murmur back. “We’re literally in the middle of our own wedding reception at a very fancy hotel.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about what’s under this...very...tight...dress,” he growls, his hands stroking their way up your naked back.

“I’m not taking this dress off, jagiya,” you warn him.

“I didn’t say you had to,” he purrs. “Come on...don’t you want me to fuck you while you’re looking out at that gorgeous view we have down there?”

“Is the view going to be gone when we go down later?” you tease, feigning shock.

“Aishh...jebal, noona~~” he whines, maknae-vibe on full-power.

“Joha, joha…” you pacify him, kissing him again, before letting him lead you out of the ballroom and back over to the elevator. “But we have to be quick or people will wonder where we’ve gone.”

“We’ll be back before the cake,” he assures you, pulling on your hand. The elevator is empty when it arrives, so he picks you up, rests you on the corner of the handrail that runs around the mirrored walls and kisses you hungrily. You can taste the soju and champagne on his breath. His cheeks are flushed high up on his cheekbones, and his hands are warm on your stockinged thighs, making your skin tingle. He drops his kisses under your jaw and down to your neck, his hands sliding up towards your chest. You’re just getting concerned how far he’s going to take this, when the elevator pings, shudders to a stop and the doors slide open to reveal two elegant-looking young women whose eyes widen in embarrassment at your extracurricular necking.

“Oh! Um…” the taller one murmurs, as they hesitate before edging into the elevator with you. You apologize profusely and move Jeongguk’s hands away from your chest, smoothing your dress fussily. He flicks his bangs, dabs at his face with the back of his hand and winks at the girl who spoke. Something clicks and they both stare at him in recognition, eyes flicking quickly to the tattoos on his hand.

“Jeon Jeongguk?” the second girl blurts whilst the other opens her mouth to say something, then changes her mind and shuts it again. Jeongguk grins mischievously and inclines his head in acknowledgement of their recognition of him.

“Oh! Is this your…?” the first girl hesitates again, shy.

“Jae anae. Ruby,” he finishes for her. You catch his eye, then bow your head to the two girls, awaiting their insa. They introduce themselves quickly and you let them have him to themselves as you finish the elevator ride, keeping your eyes modestly down and trying not to give them anything negative to report to their friends. They seem lovely, respectful ARMY though, and Jeongguk is more than happy to chat to them and sign them autographs before you arrive at your floor.

“Come, jagi,” he tells you softly, waving to the girls as you get out. You nod to them both politely and follow him down the corridor, your heart palpitating as you remember anew that this gorgeous man is now your legally-wedded husband.

You’re barely through the door of your room before he picks you up, hiking your legs to encircle his waist and kissing you messily.

“Oh wait, wait…” he whispers, with a giggle. “Get down a sec.” You do as he asks, wondering what he’s forgotten, but he just slides his warm hands up the slit in your dress, hooks his fingers into your panties and tugs at them impatiently, as he discovers they won’t do his bidding, threatening instead to become tangled in your garter-straps.

“Let me do it Kookie,” you tell him. You carefully unclip your stockings, slide your panties off and then reclip the stockings, knowing he loves the look and feel of them on your legs. He gives you a predatory smile, then traces his fingers from your knee, up your leg and straight up inside you, without any warning.

“Jeongguk-ah!” you yelp, shocked.

“Mwo?!” he asks, eyes wide as if he’s not being a dreadful tease. “Ah shibal...you’re making me so hard,” he breathes, closing his eyes and grabbing your hand to press it against his dress pants so that you can feel his erection growing and stiffening under the material. “ Nae jaji-reul bbarayo jurae ?” he begs.

“What? How will I enjoy the view if I do that?” you tease him. You kiss him hard on the lips, feeling him smile and his eyelashes flutter against your cheek as he opens his eyes again.

“You bitch,” he laughs softly, nipping your bottom lip again and teasing you with his tongue. He pushes you onto your knees in front of him, making it very clear that he’s not going to accept ‘no’ as an answer. You undo his pants, pausing briefly to admire his two rings now adorning your ring finger, then wrap your lips around his cock.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, his hands moving from your shoulders to the back of your head as you start to suck him off. You let him guide your pace as you bob your head up and down and let your tongue alternately caress his shaft and glide over his tip, but you quickly come off him when you feel his hip-thrusts start to get messier.

“Oh jinjja?!” he complains, his teeth gritted in mild frustration. You sit back on your heels and give him an appraising look.

“Hm - why did we come down here again?” you ask him, pouting in aegyo.

“Because you look fire and I can’t resist you,” he purrs, raising you to your feet, and flicking his tongue out to tangle with yours in a heated kiss. “Unf...naega ni boji mangateurilkkeoya…” he moans, his hands already sliding up your dress again.

“I dare you…” you tantalize him, taking one of his hands off your leg and guiding him over to the little balcony off your room, that overlooks the city and Hangang. He whines at being impeded from his mission, but smiles when he sees that you’re going to let him continue. You take in the city lights with pleasure, turning your head to follow the river as it winds its way through the two halves of the city. Closing your eyes briefly, you let the gentle breeze and the sounds of the midnight city wash over you. You sense Jeongguk quietly admiring the city you’ve both come to love beside you and open your eyes to smile at him. The heat in his gaze is burning you up as he kisses you a little wildly, his hands going straight for the half-moons of your breasts exposed above the dress’s neckline.

“You can’t wear this anymore after tonight,” he teases. “It’s not cool to show off this much...yubang...in Korea.”

“You picked it out,” you huff, tilting his head to kiss his neck as his hands get more insistent.

“So?” he sasses you, making you laugh indignantly.

Twirling you around and bending you over the guard-wall of the balcony with one hand, he uses the other to get the skirt of the offending garment out of his way and then you feel his cock go straight up inside you as his hands relocate to your hips. He’s true to his word, pulling you back onto him at a jackhammer pace and making you beg for mercy. You struggle to keep your balance, your legs shaking as he pounds you more relentlessly than he ever has before. You sense that whatever he’s held back until tonight he’s releasing now in one tidal wave of passion and you respond to his needy sighs and moans with a litany of appreciative moans of your own, which he seems to love from his reaction and the nibbles you get on your neck.

Finally you feel his legs tremble and his hips shudder and then a wave of orgasm hits you both, making your own legs give way. He’s quick as a flash though, catching you gently in his arms and sweeping you up to carry you over to the bed. He leans down and kisses you messily but tenderly.

“We should go back up, jagi. I just had to get that out of my system,” he laughs apologetically. You give him a look and laugh as well, shaking your head. “Well it’s your fault. I couldn’t keep my hands off you in that dress,” he defends himself cheekily.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, though both you and he are a little the merrier for the soju by the time you finally see your guests off and head back to your room, your heels dangling from your hand and his shirt untucked and buttoned even more haphazardly than it was at the beginning of your reception. He’s also somehow acquired a black cowboy hat, which he has lowered coquettishly over one eye, and which you relieve him of in the elevator, with an exasperated sigh.

“Whose is this, jagiya?” you ask him, tilting your head to catch his eye and try to make him confess. He giggles, shrugs and admits he has no idea, so you just bring it with you and leave it on the low table in your room, ready for whoever to claim. Jeongguk collapses onto the bed and pulls you down by his side with a lopsided smile.

“Mmm...let’s have a bath,” he yawns. You give him a suspicious look, but he laughs and waves his hand to ward off impure thoughts. “Ani, ani...I’m 100% satiated. But the view in there,” he defends himself. “Besides…” Another yawn. “I love traditional Korean-style baths. And I love it when you smell like soap and vanilla,” he bargains, knowing that you’ve brought his favourite body wash in your bags. You smile in surrender, dig up the desired vanilla body wash, quickly strip off your dress and wrap yourself in one of the towels. He’s already stripped naked and submerged himself in the water, so you bring him a couple of towels and step into the bath to join him, both facing the spectacular view of Hangang, with the Seoul N Tower sparkling in the distance.

“Ah, cheonguk with Jeongguk,” you sigh, melting into his arms. He laughs softly at your terrible joke, and strokes your hair gently. “I love Seoul,” you murmur, awestruck as always by the beauty of the city at night.

“Mm...me too,” he murmurs, sounding sleepy.

“I can’t wait for you to show me Busan properly though,” you chirp, excited at the prospect of your planned week around his hometown. He kisses your forehead.

“Me neither,” he hums. You watch him sleepily, noting he looks even more tired than you feel, but the thought doesn’t make you feel anxious about your wedding night, just deliciously safe as he lifts his heavily tattooed right arm to reach for the body wash and you shift cozily against his other side.

“Let me?” you ask him shyly. He looks surprised, but then smiles and hands you the bottle, inclining his head and gesturing his consent to your proposal. Tingling with anticipation, you bathe him slowly, letting your hands linger on his beautiful body and enjoying being able to pamper him like this. When you’re done, he kisses you by way of a thank you, then tells you it’s his turn to return the favour. You lean back and try not to feel self-conscious as his hands trace every inch of your body. Eventually your eyes slide shut, so you gasp when you feel his lips on yours, then his arms around your back and under your legs. Tired as he is, he manages to lift you out of the bath and onto the wooden floor, where he wraps you in one of the fluffy hotel towels and himself in another.

“Come on, Mrs Jeon Jeongguk,” he whispers, cute, in your ear. “Bedtime.”

“Mmm...I love you so much Jeongguk-ah,” you mumble, towelling yourself off and following him across to the bed.

“I love you too, jagiya,” he purrs, crawling into the bed stark naked and pulling you in beside him. He throws his arms around you again and pulls you back against him, spooning you. “Shibal, I could get used to this…” he murmurs as you both finally drift off to sleep.

THE END

Glossary: (feel free to submit corrections for these ^.^)

Kaja/Kayo [가자/가요] = the informal versions of “let’s go”. The first is strictly for use with those your age and younger. The second is more polite but not formal

Banmal/jondaemal [반말/존댖말] = informal speech, reserved for intimate relationships or people your age or younger/formal speech used for elders etc

“Nuguseyo?” [누구세요?] “Who is this please?”

“Nae yeochin” [내 요친] “My girlfriend” [informal version]

“Annyeong. Junghyun-i-e-yo”/”Ruby-ye-yo.” [안녕. 정현에요/루비예요] = Hi. I’m Junhyun”/”I’m Ruby” in informal speech. Fine if we had known each other longer, though he is younger but for first meeting someone older, formal speech would be the norm. Hence JK’s correction.

“Mianhamnida.” [미안합니다] = “Sorry” in formal language.

“Gwaenchaenayo” [괜찮아요] = “It’s okay/fine”

“I saram-eun nae yeojachingu Ruby-noona-ipnida” [이 사람은 제 요자치누 루비누나입니다] = “This person is my girlfriend, Ruby-noona.” [in formal speech, of course]

Jigeum dangjang wanjonhi manjokhamniyo? [지금 당장 완전히 만족함니요?] = “Are you completely satisfied right now?”/wanjonhi [ 완전히] = “Completely.”

Yanolja hotel [야놀자] = “Love hotel” where Koreans can go when they still live with their parents or others to sleep together. Not as seedy as in Western culture and you can rent them by the hour.

“ Ot beoso-bwa: Neorang jago shipeo.” [옺 벗어봐: 나 너랑 자고싶어] = “Take your clothes off: I want to sleep with you.”

"Neukkimi-wa!” [느낌이와] = “I’m starting to get off” (’feel it’)

Gibun joha!” [기붅좋아] = “This feels really good” (slang)

“Eung, ne ranjeri joha.” [응, 네 란제리 좋아] “Yeah (v. informal) I love your lingerie.”

“Nomu yeppeoyo” [노무 예뻐요] = “You’re so pretty.”

“Jeongguk, do-yo” [정국, 도요] = “You too, Jeongguk.”

“Maltagi haeboja?” [말타기 해보자?] = “Wanna try woman on top? (literally ‘riding the horse’)

“Ssalkeogata?” [쌀거같아] = “Are you cumming?”

“Odi-ro hallae?” [어디로 할래?] = “Where do you want it? (as in where do you want him to cum?)”

“Eolgul-eso.” [ 얼굴 에서] = “On my face/facial.”

Taegeukgi [태국기] = The Korean flag (as in your clothes and the bedsheets make you look like the flag - Korean couples often wear red and blue when they marry with the woman in red, so that’s what JK is implying that you miss).

“Narang gyeolhonhae juseyo?” [나랑 결혼해 주세요?] = Will you please marry me?

“Moksari-ga tteolryeo.” [목소리 가 떨려] = “My voice is shaking.” (cute random fact: I stole this from what he actually says when he’s doing covers on V Live and he’s cold, cos it’s adorable)

Ne! sucheon bon-iyo! [네, 수천 번이요!] = “Yes! A thousand times!”

“Nae nampyeon-nim.” [내 남편-님] = “My husband” (but the addition of ‘nim’ is the most formal honorific in Korean, so you are trying to be very respectful as a response to his “wae?” (Why? Kind of equivalent to “hey!” or “wtf?!” in English, in this context)

Pyebaek [펴백] = a ceremony where the bride tries to catch chestnuts in her hanbok to see how many children the couple will have.

“Je anae” [제아내] = “My wife” (formal ‘my’ as he doesn’t know them) Cute fact 2: ‘anae’ literally means ‘inside’ in Korean cos your wife is your person you have inside.

“Mwo” [뭐], “Jinjja” [진짜] and “jagi”/”jagiya” [자기/자기야] I assume people know but just in case! They are respectively “What?”, “For real?”/”Seriously?” and “Babe”/”Baby” as a term of affection...

“Nae jaji-reul bbarayo jurae?” [내자지를빨아요줄래?] = “Can you suck my dick?”

“Naega ni [ne] boji-ga mangatteurilkkeoya.” [내가 니 보지 망가뜨릴꺼야] = “I’m going to destroy/ruin your pussy.”

Yubang [유방] = ‘Tits’

Cheonguk [천국] = Heaven. So the bad joke is his name sounds similar to the word for Heaven in Korean.

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