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dollgxtz · 6 months ago

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Night Of Secrecy (Unfolded)

Word Count: 3k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, creampie, fluffy near the end, petnames like kitten, sweetie, my love :3

AN: Yeah so, I typed this up really quickly cause the whole "fade to black" isn't enough for me. Infold I wanted to read some action, not innuendos! (¬_¬"). So here it is, my personal take on what happened between us and Sylus that night <333

The room was charged with unspoken desire as your eyes locked with Sylus's, the air thick with anticipation. His question hung between you, a silent plea for confirmation of your shared longing. "Say it again," he whispered, his voice a low rumble, his crimson eyes piercing through you. "Kitten, do you want it?"

Your heart raced, its beat echoing in your ears, a rhythm that seemed to sync with his. You knew this moment, this silent understanding, was Sylus's way of seeking your consent, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

With a deliberate move, you reached out, your fingers gently threading through his short, damp hair, the sweat a testament to the passion simmering between you. You felt the tension in his muscles, the coiled energy of his desire, and you wanted to soothe and stoke the fire simultaneously.

Leaning closer, your breath mingled with his, your lips an inch from his, you held his gaze, your eyes conveying the depth of your answer. "This," you whispered, your voice a caress, "is my answer."

Your kiss was a declaration, a surrender to the desire that had been building between you. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a language of passion and consent, your lips moving against his with a hunger that matched his own.

Sylus responded with fervor, his hands cupping your face, his kiss deepening as he claimed your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual rhythm. The kiss was an affirmation, a seal on the unspoken agreement, a promise of pleasure to come.

With deliberate slowness, Sylus lowers himself, his hands trailing down your body, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His lips brush against your skin, tracing the delicate curve of your collarbone, the warmth of his breath a teasing promise of pleasure. Your body responds, a shiver running through you as he kisses his way down, leaving a trail of molten heat.

When he reaches the apex of your thighs, his touch is gentle yet insistent, coaxing your legs apart with a confidence that leaves you breathless. He pauses, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, seeking that final confirmation, that last unspoken consent. The intensity of his gaze is a question, a challenge, and an invitation all at once.

"Say it, kitten," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. "Tell me what you want."

Your breath catches, the words tangled in your throat, a heady mix of need and anticipation. "J-just go down there already...," you manage, your voice a whisper, a plea, and a command all at once.

With a wicked grin, he lowers his head, his lips finding your clit with a precision that makes you gasp, your back arching off the bed in response. His tongue is a velvet caress, teasing and tormenting, each flick and swirl sending jolts of pleasure through you. He takes his time, savoring every moan, every shiver, guiding you to the brink with a skillful patience that leaves you trembling.

Your body quivered with the intense pleasure as Sylus's skilled tongue danced over your sensitive bud, sending sparks of delight through your core. "It's...too much, Sylus..." you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea, your fingers tightening in his hair, holding on as if seeking solace from the overwhelming sensations.

"You can handle it, kitten," he murmured, his husky low voice sending vibrations through your body. "Let me show you how much more there is to explore."

His tongue, warm and wet, continued its dance, licking and swirling, building the pleasure to a crescendo. Your breath came in short gasps, your body trembling, your hips moving involuntarily, seeking more of his touch.

"Ah....mhgn..." you moaned, your voice a surrender to the sensations. He chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound, his tongue increasing its pace, pushing you further into the realm of ecstasy.

"That's it, my love," he encouraged, his voice a low, primal growl. "Let go, let me take you there."

His words, spoken with raw desire, spurred you on, and you surrendered to the climax, your body convulsing under his skilled tongue, your release a powerful wave of pleasure that left you trembling. He continued his oral ministrations, riding the waves of your orgasm, his tongue moving in rhythm with your body, drawing out the pleasure, ensuring you were sated and satisfied.

As you lay there, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, your body still trembling from the intense orgasm Sylus had coaxed from you, he smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You're so responsive," he whispered, his fingers trailing along your sensitive skin, making you shiver under his touch. "Just as I imagined."

"I need a moment…" you pleaded, your voice hoarse, your body still recovering from the overwhelming waves of pleasure. But Sylus, ever relentless, leaned in closer, his intentions clear and unwavering. His fingers found their way to your soaked core, teasing the sensitive flesh there. The sensation was electric, a jolt that made you gasp and arch instinctively towards him.

"Shh…" he soothed, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Just one more." With that, he slipped another finger inside you, his skilled digits working in perfect harmony, coaxing you to the edge once more. The ache was relentless, a tide that surged through you, each movement of his fingers a spark that ignited your senses.

Your body, still sensitive from the previous orgasm, erupted with ecstasy once again, your inner walls clenching around his fingers, your release a powerful wave that left you trembling and breathless. Sylus, ever attentive, captured your climax with an almost reverent precision, his fingers now drenched in your essence.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. "You taste delectable, sweetie" he murmured, his voice a velvet purr that sent another shiver down your spine. "I think we're both ready for the main course now, though."

With a fluid motion, Sylus rose, his fingers deftly working the zipper of his pants, the metallic sound slicing through the air like a promise. He freed himself, his cock standing proud and ready, a testament to his desire. The sight of it sent a thrill of anticipation through you, a visceral reaction that tightened your core and set your heart racing.

Yet as your eyes traveled the length of him, another feeling began to grow within you, winding its way through the anticipation like a serpent.

Fear.

You'd figured he was big, had felt the weight of him against you in teasing moments, but the reality was something else entirely. His cock was long and thick, a formidable presence marked with prominent veins that seemed to throb with every beat of his heart. It jutted out with an air of authority, each pulse a silent declaration of its intent.

A tremor ran through you, a mix of awe and nervousness. How was that ever supposed to fit inside you? The sheer size of him made your stomach flutter with nerves, a delicious yet daunting challenge.

"I don't think that's going to fit…" you managed to say, your voice a breathless whisper laced with both apprehension and a reluctant excitement. Your eyes were glued to him, unable to look away from the imposing sight of his cock, each moment stretching into the next as you tried to reconcile the image before you with the anticipation of it penetrating through your body.

Sylus, sensing your hesitation, moved closer, a reassuring presence that grounded you in the moment. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, a soothing gesture that belied the intensity in his gaze.

"Oh, but it will, sweetie," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Every inch of it. I promise I'll start slow".

His words eased the growing fear in your chest and you nodded, a reassurance that melted some of the nervousness away, leaving in its place a simmering desire to see just how far you could go together. Though you couldn't help but inwardly laugh at his promise to only start slow.

Sylus hovered over you, a smirk playing on his lips, reveling in the power he held in that moment, the anticipation he was crafting with each deliberate movement. He guided the swollen tip of his cock to your entrance, brushing it against your slick folds with a teasing gentleness that made you shiver.

The sensation was electric, a fleeting contact that sent jolts of pleasure zipping through your body, but it was also a maddening tease, leaving you aching and wanting. You tensed, a soft whine escaping your lips as your hips instinctively pressed forward, seeking more, craving the fullness you both needed and desired.

Sylus chuckled softly, his amusement a warm rumble that vibrated through you. He continued the tantalizing game, the head of his cock sliding against you, slick with your arousal, each pass a whisper of what was to come. The teasing was relentless, a slow torture that had your nerves singing, your body begging for more.

Finally, the tension became too much, the need too great. "Please," you breathed, your voice laced with a desperate edge that surprised even you. "Please, I want you inside me."

The words hung in the air, a plea and a command intertwined, and Sylus's expression softened, his teasing smirk giving way to something deeper, more intense. He nodded, positioning himself with care, his hand steady on your hip.

"Tell me if it hurts too much," he instructed, his voice firm yet gentle, a promise of consideration and care. With a slow, deliberate push, he began to enter you, the initial stretch a sweet, exquisite burn. The fullness of him was overwhelming, a delicious pressure that filled you completely, and you gasped, your body adjusting to the intrusion. He let out a soft grunt, clearly experiencing his own sensations.

Sylus's breath was ragged, his voice hoarse as he began to speak, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so tight...fuck," he whispered, his expression intense, a raw display of lust that sent a shiver down your spine. His reaction to your body's response was a powerful affirmation, and it sent your mind reeling.

The sight of Sylus, so consumed by desire, was both thrilling and intense. His raw, unfiltered expression of lust took your breath away, leaving you lightheaded and your body responding instinctively to his, moving in a rhythm that felt like a dance of pleasure and surrender.

You whimpered, a soft sound of discomfort, as the sensation of being stretched by his impressive size became almost overwhelming. "It hurts..." you breathed, your voice a plea, your body squirming beneath his, seeking relief from the intense sensation.

Sylus, sensing your distress, tightened his grip on your hips, his hands firm yet gentle, his body leaning over you, a protective shield. "Don't run from this, sweetie," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "You're doing so well, let me help you through it."

His words, a soothing blend of reassurance and raw desire, eased your nerves, even as your body continued to adjust to the intense sensations. Sylus's strong arms held you firmly, his grip a comforting anchor in the storm of pleasure and pain. He guided you through the intricate dance, his body a source of both comfort and arousal, his movements a delicate balance between pushing you to the edge and providing solace.

"Just breathe, kitten," he murmured, his lips brushing your cheek. "I'm right here with you."

He paused, watching you intently, giving you a moment to acclimate, his presence a comforting weight above you. The sensation was intense, but with each passing second, the discomfort ebbed, replaced by a building pleasure that spread through your body like wildfire.

With your nod of encouragement, he began to move, each thrust a gradual exploration, a dance of desire that left no room for fear, only the shared rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

Sylus began with a gentle rhythm, his thrusts slow and measured, allowing you to savor each inch as he filled you. The initial tension melted away under his careful ministrations, replaced by a growing pleasure that spread through you like honey, sweet and all-consuming.

With every movement, he watched you closely, reading the subtle shifts in your expression, the way your body responded to his. As he sensed your discomfort give way to enjoyment, he gradually increased his pace, each thrust more confident, more insistent.

"God, you feel amazing," he murmured, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "So tight, so perfect… and those sounds you're making, kitten, they're driving me wild."

His words were a heady mix of praise and possession, and you couldn't help but flush under his gaze, the heat of embarrassment mingling with the pleasure coursing through you. All you could manage in response was a series of whines and moans, your voice betraying the intensity of what you were feeling.

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as if to anchor yourself in the storm of sensation he was creating. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body moving instinctively to meet his, driven by a need that obliterated everything else.

Sylus's pace quickened, his movements a symphony of power and precision that left you breathless, your world narrowing to the feeling of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of him surrounding you. His whispered words, his touch, the way he moved—it all combined to overwhelm you, leaving you adrift in a sea of sensation.

"You're so beautiful like this," he groaned, his voice rough with desire, and the compliment only added to the fire burning within you. You whimpered, the sound escaping you unbidden, a raw expression of the pleasure that built with each thrust, each breathless moment shared between you.

The crescendo of pleasure swelled between you like a tidal wave, building in intensity with each thrust, each gasped breath. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, the rhythm of your shared desire driving you both to the brink of release. The air was thick with the sounds of your passion, a symphony of moans and gasps that filled the space between you.

Sylus's breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in, his voice a rough whisper laden with emotion. "I love you," he murmured, the words a caress that wrapped around your heart, grounding you even as the pleasure threatened to sweep you away.

"I love you too," you managed to reply, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment, the truth of your feelings laid bare in the heat of your shared passion.

As you hovered on the precipice, your body tensed with anticipation, you whispered his name, a soft plea that slipped from your lips like a prayer. "Sylus…"

He responded with a low, questioning hum, his voice vibrating through you. "Hm?"

"Please," you begged, your voice a breathless plea that sent a shiver down his spine. "Please, cum inside me."

He paused, his movements faltering for a heartbeat as he processed your request, the weight of its implications hanging in the air between you. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice taut with restraint, his desire a palpable force that surrounded you.

You nodded, the movement small but certain, meeting his gaze with a steady intensity that left no room for doubt. "You said you'd give me anything, and this is what I want most right now."

The world seemed to narrow to that single moment, the connection between you electric and alive. You could practically see his pupils dilate, his eyes darkening with a mix of lust and something deeper, something more profound.

With your consent granted, Sylus's restraint unraveled, his thrusts growing more urgent, more desperate as he chased the release you both craved. The pleasure built to a fever pitch, the pressure within you coiling tighter and tighter until it shattered, your body convulsing around him in a blinding wave of ecstasy.

With a final, deep thrust, Sylus buried himself to the hilt, his body taut and trembling as he reached the pinnacle of his pleasure. It was as if time suspended, the world narrowing to the intense connection forged between you, the shared pulse of desire that bound you together.

His release came in a series of powerful, pulsing waves, a hot flood that filled you completely, marking you as his in the most primal sense. The sensation was overwhelming, a liquid heat that spread through you, claiming every inch of your being. It was an intimate surrender, a mingling of bodies and souls that left no room for anything but the raw, undiluted truth of the moment.

Sylus's breath was ragged in your ear, his voice a low, guttural moan that sent shivers cascading down your spine. You felt his body shudder against yours, the aftershocks of his climax reverberating through both of you, a shared symphony of sensation that left you breathless.

As the fervor of the night began to settle and both of you lay entwined together, breathing heavily in the dim glow of the room, he stirred beside you.

His hand gently brushed your hair back from your face, his voice soft but sincere. “I'll help you clean up,” he murmured, his concern evident even through the haze of his own exhaustion.

But you shook your head and clung to him tightly, unwilling to let go. Your fingers curled against his skin as you whispered, “Stay.” You didn’t want to lose the warmth of him, the sense of connection that still lingered between you.

You didn’t want to lose his seed either—not yet, not now.

He sighed, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest, and leaned back into the embrace, unable to say no. “You’re so needy,” he teased, his tone playful but filled with affection. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he pressed a kiss to your temple, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin.

But you were already drifting, your eyelids heavy, lulled by the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your cheek. Cocooned in his arms, wrapped in the intimate quiet of the moment, you felt a contentment you hadn’t realized was possible. This was no longer just passion—it was something deeper, something unshakable. Things between you were now more certain, more official than they had ever been, and the thought filled you with an overwhelming happiness.

In the comfort of his embrace, you surrendered to sleep, knowing you were exactly where you belonged.

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sixeyesonathiel · 2 months ago

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no one else needed to notice

pairing — g. satoru x gn reader

synopsis : you weren’t looking for connection when you replied to a quiet post on a jujutsu forum. but what starts as late-night messages with a stranger turns into something warmer, steadier, and unexpectedly real.

sometimes, the person who sees you best is the one you’ve never even seen. until now.

tags –> one shot, 6.4k wc, non-canon compliant au, internet strangers to lovers, emotional intimacy, mutual comfort, secret voice calls, found each other online, reader is from kyoto, soft gojo satoru, extremely mild angst with a happy ending, first kisses, lighthearted moments, a little rain, stupid jokes and late-night feelings, love is about compromise, rip to gakuganji’s office chair. inspired by the song ‘no one noticed’ by the marias.

a/n : writing this made me bawl, to be loved is to be known. there’s just something about being understood by a stranger and finding solace in each other that gets to me. being known & being loved without being seen in a literal sense? sign me up :P i wanna sob because my pookie bear deserved better aaaaa

red string of fate collection m.list

you didn’t mean to answer the thread.

you never do, usually. the forum’s a chaotic sprawl, a digital graveyard of encrypted usernames—like “void_eater69” or “cursed_snacc”—and timestamps mangled by timezones no one bothers to sync. posts pile up like offerings to some forgotten curse: cryptic rants about residual energy, half-baked spell theories, or someone whining about a shikigami that won’t behave. it’s not a place for real talk. more like a dive bar at the edge of a cursed womb, where everyone’s nursing their own ghosts and shouting into the void.

but that night, your room was too quiet. the kind of quiet that creeps under your skin, heavy as a grade-two’s miasma. kyoto’s winter had settled in, and your tiny apartment felt like a box of stale air, the radiator hissing like it was mocking you. your phone glowed on the tatami, a stubborn rectangle of light that wouldn’t let you sleep. your brain was a traitor, replaying the day’s monotony: a sparring session where you’d nearly twisted your ankle, a debrief that dragged until your eyes glazed, the faint smear of cursed blood you’d scrubbed from your sleeve hours ago.

you scrolled the forum to shut it up. past a thread arguing if reversed cursed technique could fix a hangover. past some guy asking if spirits could get drunk—seriously, dude?—and then you saw it. buried under the noise, posted hours ago, short and raw, no punctuation, no pretense:

“does it ever get easier”

you stared at it, your thumb hovering over the screen. the words sat there, small and unadorned, like a stone someone had left on a path. most posts like that were traps—bait for trolls or vents that fizzled into nothing. but this one felt… different. quiet, like a whisper you weren’t meant to hear. genuine, like it had slipped out before the poster could rethink it.

you broke your own rule. typed back without letting yourself second-guess: “define easier. like, emotionally? logistically? existentially?”

he replied in under a minute.

“yes”

and just like that, you were in it.

at first, it was anonymous, the way the forum always is. two sorcerers dodging missions and boredom, tossing words into the dark like talismans. you didn’t know his name, and he didn’t ask yours. just screen names—yours a string of numbers and a bad pun, his something absurd involving mochi and a curse word. you talked about things you’d never say out loud, not to the kyoto higher-ups or the first-years who looked at you like you had all the answers. like how a room full of people could still make you feel like a ghost, drifting just outside their orbit. or how debriefs left a sour taste in your mouth, like you’d bitten into something rotten—guilt, maybe, or just the weight of it all.

he was… unexpected. not funny in a cheap, knock-knock way, but ridiculous, like he’d turned life into a stage and forgotten the script. his jokes were elaborate, stupid, sprawling things, like he was performing for a crowd that didn’t exist. one night, he typed: “i think the veil’s thinning. saw a tanuki trying to do taxes with a stolen abacus.”

you snorted into your pillow, the sound loud in your empty room. “should’ve let it,” you wrote back, fingers flying across the screen. “might’ve gotten a better refund than me. my last one barely covered a coffee.”

he sent a laughing emoji—unironically, the dork—and you could almost hear him cackling somewhere far away. it made you grin, your face half-buried in a blanket that smelled faintly of incense and yesterday’s takeout.

the chats kept going, stretching across weeks. you’d be slumped on your couch, boots still muddy from a mission, when your phone buzzed with his latest nonsense. “ever wonder if curses dream?” he’d ask, and you’d fire back, “only if they’re dreaming of paperwork. that’s the real nightmare.” he’d reply with a string of sobbing emojis, and you’d roll your eyes, but you’d keep typing, because somehow, it felt like he got it.

then came the voice calls.

always at night, when kyoto’s streets went still and the stars pressed against your window like they had something to prove. he’d call from somewhere else—somewhere alive with sound. sometimes it was traffic, a distant honk cutting through his laugh. sometimes it was the ocean, waves hissing like they were gossiping with him. once, a vending machine jingled, coins clinking as he muttered, “what do you want? melon soda? or that sweet corn one that tastes like regret?”

you laughed, your voice muffled by the scarf you hadn’t bothered to unwind from your neck. “melon,” you said, curling your knees to your chest on the couch. “corn’s for masochists.”

“noted,” he said, and you heard the machine whir, then a can crack open. “one melon soda for the meanest sorcerer i know.”

“flatterer,” you deadpanned, but your lips twitched, and you tucked the phone closer to your ear, like his voice could fill the cold corners of your apartment.

you never asked where he was. he never asked your name. it was a rule you didn’t need to speak—just a line neither of you crossed, because crossing it might break whatever this was. but he was your favorite stranger, the one who made the nights less heavy, the one whose voice felt like a tether when everything else was slipping.

the thing was, you weren’t miserable.

not exactly.

just tired, the kind of tired that sleep doesn’t touch, like a curse that’s sunk its claws too deep. your life at the kyoto branch was a loop: wake to the chime of your battered alarm clock, spar until your muscles burned, assist on missions that left your hands smelling of ash and ozone, report to gakuganji in a room that always felt too small. sometimes you mopped blood from training mats, the sponge heavy in your grip. sometimes you taught theory to first-years, their eyes glazed as you droned about residuals, your voice echoing off chalk-dusted walls.

sometimes you lay on your futon, staring at the ceiling’s chipped paint, wondering if you used to feel bigger than this—brighter, like the sky before a storm.

he changed that.

not in a loud way, not at first. it was softer, quieter, like the sound of his breath hitching when you said something sharp. like finding a rhythm with someone, even if your steps didn’t quite match. he’d ask you things no one else did, questions that felt like they were peeling back your edges.

“what color’s the sky in kyoto tonight?” he’d say, and you’d lean against your window, phone cradled against your shoulder, and answer, “pink, like someone spilled their drink on it.” he’d laugh, and you’d feel it in your ribs, a small, stubborn warmth.

“do curses feel pain?” he asked once, his voice muffled, like he was chewing something—probably mochi, knowing him.

you hummed, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. “maybe. depends if they’re sentient enough to know they’re hurting. what do you think?”

“dunno,” he said, and you heard a rustle, like he was flopping onto a bed somewhere. “but i hope they don’t. makes it easier to sleep after.”

you didn’t reply right away, just listened to him breathe, steady and slow. “you’re softer than you act,” you said finally, and he made a noise—half scoff, half laugh—that made you smile into the dark.

he loved dumb questions, too. “is it immoral to laugh when a cursed spirit looks like a balloon animal?” he asked one night, and you could hear the grin in his voice, like he was picturing it.

you were sprawled on your floor, a half-eaten onigiri beside you, and you snorted so hard you nearly choked. “only if it’s a good balloon animal,” you said. “like, if it’s trying to be a dog, you gotta respect the effort.”

“fair,” he said, and you heard a clink—probably another soda can. “you’re funnier than you think, y’know.”

“and you’re weirder than you sound,” you shot back, but your cheeks were warm, and you pulled your knees up, hugging them like you could trap the feeling.

the best moments, though, were when he dropped the act. when the theatrics fell away, and his voice went low, soft, like he was afraid the words might break if he pushed too hard. one night, after a call that had stretched past midnight, he said, “sometimes… i think i only exist when i’m useful to someone. is that stupid?”

you were half-asleep, your phone slipping against your cheek, but his voice pulled you back. you blinked at the ceiling, the shadows pooling like spilled ink. “no,” you said, quiet but firm. “it’s just sad.”

he laughed—not the emoji kind, not the loud kind, but something small, like he was letting out a breath he’d been holding. “you don’t pull punches, huh?”

“you’d hate it if i did,” you said, and you heard him shift, like he was nodding to himself.

“yeah,” he murmured. “i would.”

it went on like that for months, long enough that you started noticing things. the way he yawned before he said goodnight, a sleepy hum that made your chest ache. the pauses in his sentences when he was choosing his words, like he wanted to get it right for you. the way his voice warmed when you rambled about something small—like the stray cat outside your building that kept stealing your bento scraps, or the time you’d botched a talisman and spent an hour scrubbing ink from your hands.

he’d listen, really listen, he always does and then say something like, “bet that cat’s got better taste than gakuganji,” and you’d laugh until your sides hurt.

you didn’t ask who he was. he didn’t push for your name. it was perfect, fragile, like a bubble you were both afraid to pop.

until one night, your phone buzzed, and it wasn’t the usual late-hour joke or random question. it was a call, his name—or rather, the string of nonsense characters he used—lighting up your screen. you hesitated, thumb grazing the accept button, then pressed it, curling into your futon as the kyoto cold gnawed at the window.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual, like he was speaking through a held breath. there was no hum of traffic tonight, no vending machine jingle—just a faint rustle, maybe his sleeve brushing the phone, and a stillness that made your pulse loud in your ears.

you didn’t answer right away, just listened to him breathe, steady but careful, like he was standing on the edge of something. your apartment felt smaller, the night pressing against the glass, cold and heavy, like it was waiting for you to move first.

“can I…” he started, then paused, a hitch in his voice you hadn’t heard before. “can I visit you?”

you froze, fingers tightening around the phone until it dug into your palm. the words landed like a stone dropped into still water, rippling through the quiet. your eyes flicked to the window, where the dark seemed to lean closer, listening. your heart did something stupid, tripping over itself, and you bit your lip, hard enough to sting.

“like… here?” you said finally, voice low, almost lost in the radiator’s hiss. “in kyoto?”

“yeah,” he said, and it was quiet but firm, like he’d been turning the idea over for hours before daring to say it. “i’m nearby. for a mission. thought… maybe. if it’s okay with you.”

you swallowed, your free hand fidgeting with the blanket’s edge, twisting it until the fabric bunched. you didn’t know what he looked like. he didn’t know your face. but the thought of him—your stranger, your tether—standing in your city, his voice no longer trapped in static… it made your chest ache, like a curse unraveling too fast to catch.

“we don’t even know what we look like,” you said, softer now, half a shield, half a truth, your breath catching as you spoke.

he was quiet for a moment, and you heard a faint shift, like he was leaning closer to the phone, shutting out the world. “i know,” he said, voice low, steady, like a vow he hadn’t meant to make. “but I think I’d recognize you anyway.”

your lips parted, but no sound came out. your heart stumbled again, and you pressed your knees to your chest, the blanket slipping to the floor. you wanted to deflect, to toss back something sharp, but his words sat there, heavy and warm, like they’d carved out a space you didn’t know you’d left empty.

“you’re weird,” you managed, but it came out too soft, too honest, and you winced, tucking your chin to hide the smile you couldn’t stop.

he exhaled, a sound that was half-laugh, half-relief, like he’d been holding it in all night. “you’re mean,” he said, and you could hear the curve of his mouth, faint but real, unguarded in a way that made your ribs tighten.

“you like it,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, and your fingers hovered over the phone’s edge, like you could reach through it if you tried.

he didn’t answer right away. just breathed, slow and close, and when he spoke, it was so quiet it felt like a secret. “yeah,” he said. “i do.”

the call didn’t end, not yet. you stayed there, listening to the silence stretch, his breath a steady rhythm against the night’s weight. and that ache in your chest grew, sharp and warm, like it was making room for something you weren’t ready to name.

that morning, when he texted for the address, you gave him the name of a small café tucked just off the main street near kyoto campus—nothing fancy, barely even marked, just a warm pocket of space where time slowed down and no one asked too many questions. not because you were scared. not exactly. but the idea of him—this faceless voice, this stranger you somehow knew better than people you’d seen every day—being in your space, standing in your doorway, seeing your real life... it made something flutter behind your ribs. something you couldn’t name without sounding stupid.

it rained that day. not hard. just the kind of persistent drizzle that painted everything in shades of grey, slicked the pavement until it gleamed like wet ink, and made your sleeves cling to your wrists. your shoes scuffed softly against the tile as you pushed open the café door. inside, the air was warm, thick with the smell of coffee beans and something sweet rising from the back oven.

a couple of students in uniforms sat by the counter, arguing in low tones about spell theory. the barista barely looked up as you ordered your usual, fingers drumming a quiet rhythm against the side of your phone. you picked the window seat. always the window seat. you liked watching people go by, liked the illusion of being somewhere else.

time passed.

you checked your phone once. then again. your fingers curled around your cup, heat seeping into your palms. condensation fogged the glass. you were early. or maybe he was late. or maybe the whole thing was a joke you’d fallen for, like a damn idiot. your heart did this stupid stuttering thing every time the bell over the door moved.

then it rang.

and he walked in.

white hair, slightly mussed from the rain. the tiniest drop caught in his bangs, trailing down toward the curve of his cheek. his sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, and he was tall—taller than you'd expected, even though you should’ve known—and dressed like he didn’t care how loud he looked. hands in his pockets. shoulders loose. like he’d just wandered in off some catwalk that ended in your direction.

he scanned the room once, those ridiculous glasses perched low on his nose, catching the café’s dim light like twin moons. his eyes—sharp, too sharp for any one place to hold—skipped over the students bickering about cursed residuals, the barista wiping down a steaming espresso machine, and landed square on you.

his smile cracked open, instant, effortless, like the sun spilling through a storm cloud.

“hey.”

you froze mid-sip, your mug hovering an inch from your lips. your eyes locked on his, and the world did that thing where it shrinks to a pinprick, all cinnamon air and rain-slicked windows fading out. the ridiculous truth hit you like a badly timed talisman:

holy shit. that’s gojo satoru.

your mouth opened. closed with a soft click. opened again, because apparently your brain decided to blue-screen.

“you’re fucking kidding me.”

his grin stretched wider, all teeth and mischief, as he sauntered across the floor toward you. long limbs moved like they were choreographed, raindrops clinging to his white hair like tiny glass beads, scattering light. he shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, shoulders hiked just enough to betray how stupidly pleased he was with himself.

“surprise?” he said, voice lilting like he’d just pulled off the world’s dumbest magic trick.

you blinked, unblinking, your fingers tightening around the mug until the heat stung. your face was doing something—probably a mix of shock and are you serious right now—because his laugh bubbled up, low and warm, like he’d caught you red-handed.

“you—i—you’re you,” you stammered, eloquent as a first-year tripping over their own incantation.

“i am,” he said, tilting his head. a single droplet slid from his bangs, tracing the sharp line of his jaw before dripping onto the floor. “last i checked, anyway. unless you’ve got a better theory.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

he paused a step from the table, one hand escaping his pocket to scratch at the back of his neck. his glasses slipped lower, and you caught a flash of those eyes—crystal blue, too bright, like staring into a clear sky after a curse’s miasma. he nudged the frames up with a knuckle, but then, in a move that made your breath hitch, he tugged them off completely. folded them with a click. set them on the table like a dare.

“didn’t wanna scare you off,” he said, quieter now, his gaze unguarded and pinning you in place.

yo squinted, lips pressing into a thin line to choke back a snort. your eyebrow arched, sharp as a well-placed shikigami. “you thought being yourself would scare me off?”

he shrugged, weight shifting from one foot to the other, his coat swaying like it was in on the joke. “it usually does.”

you blinked again, slower, and something in your chest unknotted. for a split second, he looked… smaller. not the gojo satoru who could level a city block with a wink, but a guy who wasn’t sure if he was too much or not enough. his hair was a mess, sticking up where he’d ruffled it outside, and his eyelashes were wet, catching the light like they were trying to apologize.

you set your mug down with a soft clink, the ceramic warm against your palm, and gestured to the chair across from you. “sit down, satoru.”

his grin snapped back, bright as a spark talisman igniting. “yes, ma’am.”

he dropped into the chair with all the grace of a cat knocking over a vase—legs sprawling, then tucking back, elbows hitting the table before he leaned forward like he was about to spill a secret. his coat bunched at his shoulders, and he smelled faintly of rain and something sweeter, like the mochi he’d probably swiped from a vendor on the way here.

“this place smells like cinnamon and potential,” he said, voice dipping low, conspiratorial. he waggled his brows, and you swore his eyes flickered with a tease no technique could replicate. “you sure you don’t wanna marry me right now? i’d get you a ring pop. blue raspberry, your favorite.”

you snorted, the sound punching out before you could stop it. your hand flew to your mouth, but it was too late—he’d heard it, and his whole face lit up like he’d won a bet with the universe.

“you remembered that?” you said, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing like you could shield yourself from his smugness. your lips twitched, betraying you.

“‘course i did,” he said, tapping his temple with a long finger. “you said it during that 2 a.m. ramble about cursed vending machines. blue raspberry ring pop, ‘cause it stains your tongue and freaks out the first-years.” he leaned closer, voice dropping to a mock-whisper. “i pay attention, y’know.”

your cheeks warmed, and you hated how your mouth kept trying to smile. you kicked his shin lightly under the table, just enough to make him yelp—a dramatic ow that had the students at the counter glancing over. “you’re impossible,” you muttered, but your eyes flicked to his glasses, still folded neatly beside his elbow. “and put those back on, idiot. you’re gonna give yourself a migraine squinting like that.”

he blinked, then laughed—a real one, not the showy kind he threw at missions or bad jokes. “what, you worried about my eyes now?” he said, but he didn’t reach for the glasses. instead, he propped his chin on one hand, staring at you like you were the only thing worth seeing. “i took ‘em off for you, y’know. six eyes makes everything loud—too many colors, too many things. but you…” he trailed off, and his voice softened, like he was peeling back a layer he usually kept buried. “you’re clearer without ‘em.”

your breath caught, and for a second, you forgot how to be a smart-ass. your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, and you ducked your head, letting your hair fall forward to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “that’s sweet,” you said, voice dry but wobbling just a fraction. “also stupid. you’ll strain yourself, and i’m not dragging your whining ass to a healer when you’re seeing double.”

he grinned, undeterred, and flicked a sugar packet across the table at you. it bounced off your knuckles, and you swatted it back without thinking, starting a lazy game of tabletop tag. “would you rather i didn’t see you?” he asked, catching the packet mid-air with infuriating ease. his fingers were quick, precise, like he could’ve dismantled a curse in the same motion. “c’mon, admit it. you like being seen.”

you rolled your eyes, but your lips curved, and you couldn’t quite stop it. “i like when you’re not a headache,” you shot back, snatching the sugar packet from his hand. you tore it open, dumping half into your coffee just to mess with him—he’d gagged once during a call when you’d done it, claiming it was “coffee abuse.” now, he just watched you with a smirk, like he was cataloging every move you made.

“liar,” he said, stretching his arms above his head until his shirt rode up, flashing a sliver of pale skin above his waistband. you looked away, quick, and he noticed—his smirk grew positively diabolical. “you told me last week you like my voice best at midnight. all raspy and annoying, you said. direct quote.”

you groaned, sinking lower in your chair, but your foot nudged his ankle under the table, a traitor to your own defenses. “i was delirious from a mission,” you said, pointing a stirrer at him like a tiny sword. your brows furrowed, but your eyes were bright, dancing with the kind of energy you hadn’t felt in weeks. “and you were the one who kept talking about cursed tanukis stealing your socks, so who’s the real mess here?”

he laughed again, loud enough to make the barista glance over with a raised brow. his hand dropped to the table, fingers drumming a restless rhythm, and you noticed how his pinky brushed the edge of your mug—like he was testing how close he could get without you pulling away. “guilty,” he said, tilting his head until his bangs fell into his eyes. he shook them away, and the motion was so boyish, so normal, it made your heart do a stupid little flip. “but you laughed. i heard it. best sound in the world, by the way.”

you froze, stirrer halfway to your mouth, and your eyes flicked up to meet his. he wasn’t grinning now—just watching you, steady and soft, like the rain outside had melted all his edges. your lips parted, but no snark came out. instead, you reached across the table, picked up his glasses, and slid them toward him with a pointed look. “put these on before you ruin yourself,” you said, but your voice was quieter, like you were afraid of breaking whatever this was. “i’m not worth a headache, satoru.”

he didn’t touch the glasses. instead, he caught your hand before you could pull it back, his fingers warm and a little calloused, curling around yours like they’d been waiting to. “disagree,” he said, simple as that, and his thumb brushed your knuckle, light as a feather. “you’re worth a lot of things.”

you swallowed, and the café seemed to hum quieter—the clink of cups, the murmur of students, all fading into a soft blur. your pulse was loud, though, thudding in your ears as you looked at him. his hair was drying now, curling at the ends, and his eyes were still bare, unguarded, like he’d stripped away every barrier just to sit here with you. your lips twitched into a smile, small but real, and you squeezed his hand once before letting go.

“you’re gonna regret saying that when i steal your last mochi later,” you said, leaning back to break the spell, but your foot stayed pressed against his under the table, warm and steady.

he gasped, clutching his chest like you’d cursed him. “not the mochi,” he wailed, but his eyes crinkled, and he leaned forward, stealing your stirrer to twirl it between his fingers like a baton. “fine, but only if you say ‘satoru, you’re my hero’ first. gotta earn it.”

“in your dreams, pretty boy,” you shot back, but you were laughing now, soft and easy, and the sound made his whole face soften, like he’d been chasing it all along.

you stayed in that café for hours, trading sugar packets and stupid stories, your shoes bumping under the table, his glasses still untouched. the rain slowed to a drizzle, painting the windows in lazy streaks, but neither of you noticed. the world was just this—cinnamon air, warm mugs, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted to see clearly.

and somewhere in between the rain tapering off and your drinks going lukewarm, something shifted. not abruptly. not dramatically. but gently, like gravity starting to lean in a different direction. he was exactly the same—annoying, charming, impossible—but there was a quiet steadiness beneath it all. like he looked at you and saw not just a person, but a place. somewhere he could stay.

all while you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that gojo satoru had been the idiot on the forum sending you tanuki memes at 3am.

he called you a cryptid. you called him emotionally constipated. he told you your voice was the only one he actually waited to hear. you told him he needed better taste. he laughed so hard he knocked his knee on the underside of the table.

when the café finally closed, the barista shooing you out with a tired smile, satoru held the door open, his clear umbrella already unfurled against the drizzle. it was comically small for his ridiculous height, barely shielding his broad shoulders, but he angled it carefully, keeping the rain from kissing your hair. his sleeve darkened, soaked through where the mist clung, but he didn’t seem to care. the night was quiet, steeped in that velvet hush that trails a long rain, streetlights casting blurry halos through the mist, like half-forgotten curses glowing in the dark.

his footsteps matched yours, slow and deliberate, scuffing softly against the wet pavement. he didn’t need to adjust his stride—you noticed how he shortened it, just enough, like he was savoring every second of this walk. his fingers brushed yours once, a fleeting warmth against your knuckles. he didn’t grab your hand. brushed again, lingering, like a question he wasn’t sure he could ask. you didn’t pull away, your pinky curling slightly, grazing his, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward, like he’d caught a secret.

“can I see you again?” he asked, glancing down at you, his voice stripped of its usual swagger. it was quiet, raw, like a wish he’d whispered to the night before daring to say it aloud. his glasses slipped low, catching the streetlight’s gleam, and his eyes—too blue, too open—held yours like you were the only thing tethering him to the ground.

you tilted your head, pretending to mull it over, your lips pursing to hide the smile tugging at them. your scarf fluttered in the breeze, and you tugged it tighter, catching the way his gaze flicked to the motion, like he was memorizing it. “I’d kinda like it if you called me first,” you said, voice dry but warm, your eyes darting to his before skittering away.

his smile softened, reverent, like you’d handed him a talisman he hadn’t earned. he ducked his head, damp hair falling into his eyes, and pushed it back with a quick flick, scattering droplets. “yeah?” he said, and it was so soft, so hopeful, it made your chest ache like a bruise you didn’t mind.

“yeah,” you said, and your fingers brushed his again, deliberate this time, a spark in the quiet.

he didn’t kiss you. not yet. but the way he looked at you—head tilted, eyes tracing your face like he was mapping a new constellation—felt louder than any words. like maybe, finally, he’d found the place he was meant to land, and you were standing right there beside him.

you kept walking, the umbrella tilting as he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. the mist curled around you like a veil, and he started humming—some off-key pop song he’d probably heard on a mission, the kind you’d mocked him for liking during one of your calls. you shot him a look, eyebrow arched, and he only grinned, utterly unrepentant.

“you’re gonna ruin my reputation,” you muttered, but your lips twitched, and you nudged his arm with your elbow, just enough to make him sway.

“too late,” he said, voice lilting like he was sharing a conspiracy. “you laughed at my tanuki tax joke. you’re already doomed.”

you snorted, the sound sharp in the quiet, and he laughed—low, warm, like it was his favorite sound in the world. “you remember that?” you asked, glancing up at him, your scarf slipping to reveal the curve of your neck. his eyes followed it, then snapped back to your face, like he’d been caught.

“‘course I do,” he said, tapping his temple with a long finger. “filed it under ‘proof you’re secretly fun.’ right next to you admitting you like my midnight voice.”

your cheeks warmed, and you shoved your hands into your pockets, muttering, “delirious ramblings don’t count.” but you didn’t step away, and he didn’t either, the umbrella wobbling as he tilted it to keep you dry.

then he stopped walking, abrupt enough that you turned to face him, a brow raised. “what?”

his expression was unreadable, caught somewhere between mischief and something heavier, like he was about to say something that could tilt the world off its axis. his hair was wet now, silver strands curling at the ends, clinging to his forehead, and his glasses fogged slightly at the edges, making his eyes look softer, closer.

“come work in tokyo,” he said, the words spilling out like they’d been waiting all night.

you blinked, your breath catching. “satoru.”

“no, I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer, the umbrella dipping until a stray droplet grazed his cheek. he didn’t wipe it away, just kept looking at you, earnest in a way that made your throat tight. “same uniform, better pay, vending machines that don’t eat your coins. plus—” he leaned in, voice dropping to a mock-whisper—“you get me. scientifically proven to make life less boring.”

you laughed, sharp and startled, and it broke the tension like a snapped thread. “you’re the cause of my stress,” you said, poking his chest with a finger, your nail catching on his damp coat.

“and I’ll keep causing it,” he said, catching your hand before you could pull back. his fingers were warm, curling around yours, and he tilted his head, grin softening. “but I’ll be closer. way better than those kyoto stiffs who don’t know how you take your coffee.”

you froze, lips parting, because he did know—black, no sugar, the way you’d grumbled about during a 3 a.m. call when a mission had you wired. “you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice wobbled, and you didn’t yank your hand away.

“you don’t belong there,” he said, quieter now, his thumb brushing your knuckle, light as a wish. “they don’t see you. not like I do.”

you opened your mouth to deflect, to toss back something sharp, but nothing came. because he was right, and the way he looked at you—steady, unguarded, like you were more than a shadow in a debrief room—made it impossible to argue. you closed your mouth, exhaling through your nose, and he smiled, small and real, like he’d won something bigger than he’d planned.

two weeks later, after one strongly worded proposal, two forged signatures, and a very public argument with gakuganji that ended with a chair launched across a meeting room, satoru showed up at your apartment, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that screamed trouble. his coat was slung over one shoulder, and he held a crumpled paper bag that smelled suspiciously like mochi.

“congrats,” he said, voice bright as a spark. “you’re moving to tokyo. pack a toothbrush.”

you stared, one socked foot still on the tatami, a half-packed box of books at your side. “what the hell did you do?”

“justice,” he said, tossing the bag onto your counter, where it landed with a soft thud. he stepped inside, kicking the door shut with his heel, and winked like he’d just saved the world. “also, maybe a little bribery. you’re welcome.”

and just like that, you were tokyo’s problem now.

on your first day, he was waiting at the jujutsu tech gates, a paper flower crown perched crookedly on his head, petals fluttering in the breeze. he held a sign—scrawled in marker, “WELCOME HOME, CRYPTID”—and two matcha lattes, one wobbling dangerously in his hand as he waved like a kid spotting their best friend. the other sorcerers passing by shot him looks, but he didn’t care, his grin wide enough to rival the sun spilling over the campus.

you tried to scowl, to keep your cool, but your lips betrayed you, curling into a smile that felt like surrender. “you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, stepping into his orbit, close enough to smell the sugar on his breath and the faint cedar of his cologne.

he looped an arm around your shoulder, easy as breathing, like the space beside him had been yours all along. his lips brushed your temple, a fleeting warmth, then lingered, soft and deliberate, like he was testing if you’d pull away. you didn’t.

“and yet,” he said, voice low, teasing, “you never left.”

you rolled your eyes, but your head tilted into his touch, just a fraction, and you felt him exhale, like he’d been holding it in. “I’m not wearing the flower crown,” you said, flicking the sign with a finger, making it wobble in his grip.

“not yet,” he said, adjusting the crown on his head, petals catching the sunlight like tiny flames. he handed you a latte, the cup warm against your palm, and you noticed he’d drawn a tiny cat face on the lid—lopsided, with one ear missing, like your stray back in kyoto.

“not ever,” you shot back, but you took a sip, and the matcha was perfect—sweet, not too bitter, exactly how you’d mentioned liking it months ago during a call about bad coffee stands.

he laughed, a sound like summer breaking through clouds, and you looked up, catching the way his eyes crinkled, the way his hair glowed gold in the morning light. his thumb brushed your cheek, featherlight, like he was confirming you were real.

and then he kissed you—no fanfare, no dramatic build, just the quiet press of his mouth against yours, soft and certain. it was the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission because it already belonged. like the final word in a sentence you’d both been writing in secret.

his lips were warm, moving against yours with a reverence that made your breath catch. his hand cupped the side of your face, fingers splayed gently against your jaw as though afraid to press too hard, like you were something delicate, worth holding and not breaking.

your eyes fluttered closed. the air between you and the world seemed to hush, like even the breeze knew not to interrupt. your fingers curled into the fabric of his coat—soft, heavy, smelling faintly of rain and something that had to be him.

your knees went a little soft. your heart, stupid and loud, climbed up into your throat.

he pulled back just barely, but didn’t let go. his forehead rested against yours, breath fanning across your lips, sweet with matcha and something sweeter beneath it—something like hope.

his grin was criminal. boyish. blinding. like he’d stolen something precious and gotten away clean.

“told you you’d like tokyo,” he said, voice low, still laced with laughter.

and before you could even think of dodging, he plucked the flower crown from his head—now slightly lopsided from the kiss—and dropped it gently onto yours.

you blinked. scowled. felt your cheeks catch fire.

you shoved it back onto him, petals scattering onto his nose, and he sneezed, dramatic and loud, making a passing student jump. “shut up,” you said, but you were laughing now, full and bright, and his fingers laced with yours, warm and steady, like they’d never let go.

and in that moment—the sun dusting your cheeks, his hand anchoring you, you knew one thing for sure:

no one else needed to notice.

because he did.

and that was enough.

(and yeah, he’d submitted three fake transfer forms in your name, because apparently love means committing light fraud. you’d yell at him later. probably.)

tag list : @akeisryna @esotericsorrow @prettilyrisse @cherrymoon55 @linaaeatsfamilies @k0z3me

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starsforxavi · 3 months ago

Text

late night meeting

·······•✦ description: In which; it's late at night when a knock comes at your door. Sylus rarely ever gets hurt, and his injuries heal quickly, but it wouldn't hurt to indulge him for a bit...

·······•✦ pairing: sylus x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 6k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Cowgirl Position, Mild Blood, Gunshot Wounds, Sylus has a big dick…, soft smut, cleaning wounds, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, (kind of), Creampie, Late at Night, Morally Ambiguous Character, Teasing

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

Stars glittered in the sky, watching above as the city lulled. Cars beeped as workers drove home; their day finally finished. Others were forced to work through the night, sitting in cubicles and patrolling parks, their only solace being the sunrise that greeted them over the horizon. Some fell into a slumber, while others stayed up, burning the midnight oil. It was a constant back and forth or routines - or the lack thereof.

Then there was Sylus.

Sure, the things he did were work … And due to the darkness in the N109 zone, his sleep frequently came during your day… But he was far from the typical night owl. His dealings were done in the shroud of night, no matter the time on the clock. Shadows danced along the walls, creating the illusion of an even more intimidating presence than the man in front of them.

So, his normal business meeting turned in a flash, although it wasn’t anything he was unaccustomed to. People got greedy and overzealous, but Sylus always saw it coming… There wasn’t a thing that he couldn’t predict. That’s how he came to find himself walking away from a burning building, the sparks and shots still ringing in his mind.

Except it wasn’t at the expense of some wounds. To him, they were artificial… Just a gash in his chest that seemed to darken his already black shirt and a bullet wound in his shoulder. They would heal soon, the pain already beginning to fade as his pace picked up.

He wanted to see you.

Well, he always wanted to see you, but as his blood pumped through his body, dripping from his wounds, his heart drifted to you. Always and forever, you . And he knew you would be asleep even though you were off work the next day - he synced your work schedule up in his calendar - but his own need and incessant desire outweighed his hesitance to wake you.

Instead of instantly teleporting, he decided to take time to walk there, his aura propelling any late-night wanderer that dared to look his way. By the time he was in front of your door, his wounds had healed completely, the only remnants of the little issue being the blood that stained his black button-up shirt.

A loud, singular knock sounded from your front door as he waited for you to open it. His thumbs hooked in his pockets as he heard you shuffling around, a minuscule smile already on his lips before he even saw you. Yeah, he could just teleport in, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he gave you a heart attack from appearing in the middle of your bedroom.

“Sylus?” The sight of your freshly woken-up form caused his eyes to light up. It took a moment for everything to catch up to you before you pulled him into your apartment. “What are you doing here, in the middle of the night, with blood on your shirt?” Your voice turned more frantic as you took in his appearance, the fear climbing into your chest. Not only was his shirt darkened with the crimson liquid, but he was standing in your apartment building hallway for who knew how long?! Someone could have seen him!

Now you were up, the sleep fully wiped from your brain. The nerves in your body were on edge, a frantic flailing of your hands an inch from his body. Of course, he didn’t have any noticeable wounds, but the blood still startled you, especially seeing it in the middle of the night.

“A business meeting went a little… Crazy …” His deep voice wrapped around you, the warmth of his body sinking into your skin. Taking a step forward, he shrugged, a nonchalant air to his aura. “I’ll be fine; it’s just a little blood.” The wounds never bothered him… Yeah, maybe they hurt as they happened, but it didn’t take long for them to heal.

But he couldn’t lie; a small part of him really liked being taken care of by you. In the darkness, the only light coming from the moon and stars up above, Sylus winced. In no way was he an actor, but he knew that you didn’t like seeing him in pain.

“Actually,” His footsteps carried him over to your couch, sitting down with a thud, “It does hurt a bit; I think one of them had a serrated blade.” Gentle touches drifted across his chest, right where the deep gash was not too long ago.

He wouldn’t fool you… You knew him too well; he already looked healed, baring the blood soaking into his clothes. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t indulge in his somewhat dramatic and endearing complaints.

After locking your apartment door, you padded over to the couch, standing beside Sylus. His head sat right next to your hip, his red eyes meeting yours as he looked up. A faint hint of a frown on his face as he rubbed the spot where he was slashed with the knife.

“Where does it hurt?” Your hand ran through his silver hair, enjoying the way his eyes closed and his head instinctively leaned into your touch. The vulnerability on his face, as he gestured to his chest right below his collarbone, caused you to melt. Although he was playing it up, the attack did surprise him, always having cordial meetings with this client. But it was all water under the bridge; all that mattered now was he was in your comforting presence…

“Right here,” He held your wrist in his fingers, his touch feather-light as he brought your palm to the rip in his clothing, the red blood staining the fabric even darker than it was. There wasn’t a wound there, but the dried blood on his skin was rough under your fingers.

As you dipped your fingers under the rip in his shirt, his skin was warm to the touch. With a soft smile, you massaged the skin, feeling nothing of note to worry you. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t act like it…

“Oh,” Your tone was curiously interested, as if you had just found the cause of his pain. Raising your eyebrows, you leaned down until your face was inches from Sylus’. “Looks like you do have some dried blood here… What should we do about that?”

A slow, tantalizing smirk stretched across Sylus’ lips upon hearing you playing along. If there was anything he knew about you, it was that you loved to indulge in his antics, whether big or small. He leaned into your touch, his nose brushing against your cheek.

“Hm,” He hummed, his eyes searching yours and only finding a hint of playfulness. Enjoying the light atmosphere, even in the dead of night, Sylus remained silent. It wasn’t until he raised an eyebrow at you, his lips curling slightly. “What do you think we should do about it, beautiful?”

With a light chuckle, you pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest. It was late… But you had already been woken up from sleep, and you didn’t have work in the morning… Maybe it would be okay to have a bit of fun …

“I think we need to clean you up a bit, and that tattered shirt should really come off.” His eyes traveled down your figure, taking in your pajamas and slightly unkempt, freshly woken-up appearance. You still looked absolutely stunning , and the way you countered every little thing he said… It was exciting just listening to your teasing tone and the small smirk that always appeared on your lips.

There it was.

“Are you saying that because you want to treat me…” Reaching out, his large hand rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you closer to him. His nose brushed against your side before he looked back up at you, his eyes bright and mischievous. “Or do you just want to get me out of my clothes?”

A small chuckle echoed in the air as his hand massaged your thigh. Just a small touch sent electricity through your bones, but you enjoyed it. Smiling down at him, your fingers threaded through his hair. In an instant, he closed his eyes, leaning back into your hand.

“Who said it can’t be both?” Stepping back, you held out a hand. Sylus had no choice but to accept the silent invitation, his warm palm leaving your leg to rest in yours. Letting you pull him up, he relished in the way the moonlight highlighted your features.

The eyes that always seemed to look at him with a teasing sort of affection… The lips that whispered words of praise and warning when he got a little too close to the Hunter’s Association… The eyebrows that raised when you would question his choice of revenge … Or the same eyebrows that furrowed in pleasure while he slowly buried himself inside your heat…

Noticing how silent he became, your hand trailed up to his wrist, wrapping around it. Beneath your fingertips, his muscles flexed, his lips set in a tight line as he couldn’t help but stand in awe at your beauty.

“You’re staring, Sy.” Your soft tone wrapped around him, and he couldn’t help the smile that cracked his stoic expression. The hand that wasn’t held by yours moved up to rest on your cheek. His thumb brushed your skin softly like he was mapping out every dip and curve.

“Oh, I know.” It wasn’t up for debate; he was definitely staring… “But how can you blame me when you’re standing in front of me, looking absolutely stunning… and absolutely mine. ”

His gentle fingers danced down your skin, past your jaw, to wrap around to the nape of your neck. His thumb massaged the base of your spine, a soft caress as he pulled you even closer. The breath that fell from his lips washed over your face, and he took another moment to admire your shimmering eyes.

“Let’s just get you cleaned up, Sy.” With a small chuckle, you led him to your bathroom. The fluorescent light shocked you for a moment before you led him to sit on your toilet. Stepping between his legs, you reached up, brushing away the hair from his face. “Are you injured anywhere else?” Sylus stayed silent, letting you examine his head and neck. A satisfied smile fell on his lips as he watched you concentrate. Your fingers danced through his hair, down his cheek, and along his neck. Goosebumps raised on his arms at your delicate touch, your eyes trailing along his skin.

“I’m going to take this off,” You said, your fingers beginning to pop the buttons of his shirt. It was in tatters, nearly falling apart as you revealed inch after inch of his bare chest.

There weren’t any other indications of his previous injuries besides the spots of blood on his chest and shoulder. But as you got to the bottom buttons, you were forced to kneel between his thighs. A low noise akin to a growl left Sylus’ closed lips, enjoying the sight of you slowly undressing him. Your fingertips brushed against his abdomen, just barely grazing the waistband of his pants as you finished unbuttoning his shirt.

Grabbing the shirt, you slid it off his shoulders, setting it to the side. With his chest now bare, you could see the blood from his wounds - now completely healed - that had dried onto his skin. Other than those two spots, the rest of his body was clean.

“You should go lay on my bed,” You stood up, your eyes hungry as you took in his muscular shoulders and clenching abdomen. Each breath was labored, and you were sure it wasn’t because he was in pain… “That way, I can assess you more thoroughly.”

“Of course, kitten.” Standing up, he let you lead him into your room. He was familiar with your bedroom, having spent quite a bit of time in your bed. As he settled against the headboard, he watched curiously.

You walked back into the bathroom, leaving Sylus for just a moment to grab a washcloth and wet it in your sink. Wringing out the excess water, you moved closer, climbing into his lap. Your knees rested on either side of his waist, and his hands instantly snapped to your hips. It had been some time since you were able to indulge in each other’s presence… Being busy with work in Linkon and business in the N109 Zone…

Your hand gently pressed against his chest, rubbing away the dried blood. His gaze was soft as he watched you, his heart racing under your touch. The cold water pressed against his warm skin, slowly taking away all the remnants of his battle.

In an attempt to avoid his piercing gaze, your own eyes locked onto the washcloth, watching as the dried blood slowly disappeared. Although you knew he was strong and could wipe out anyone in his way, a small part of you did worry about him… What if someone found his kryptonite?

After you cleaned his chest, your hands moved to his shoulder, gently pressing and massaging the skin to rid him of the remnants of his wounds. It was kind of therapeutic, the tiny thought of erasing his pain - even though he really wasn't in any pain at the moment - making you relax in his grasp.

You were so preoccupied with cleaning him up that you didn’t feel his hands snake up your shirt. His delicate fingers drifted along your curves, splaying across your back to pull you closer to him.

When you were finished, you pulled back, your eyes drifting across his torso to make sure no more dried blood remained. Sylus watched you with a silent smirk, enjoying the way you looked at him. His hand reached up to grab the washcloth, putting it on the nightstand. Grabbing your hips, he ground up against you in small circles, enjoying the warmth of your thighs and hips on him.

“Hm,” He hummed, and your hands found purchase on his chest, propping yourself up to see his eyes drifting down your pajama-clad body. “I think I got a wound on my thigh as well, kitten. You might want to check it out.”

Holding a dramatic pose, your mouth dropped open slightly in mock surprise. Working your way down his body, you moved to his side. Your fingers played with the button of his pants, popping it open before dragging the clothing down. His boxers were already tenting by the time his pants were discarded somewhere in your room.

You leaned down slowly, your face getting closer to his obvious arousal. Your hands ran along his thigh, brushing against the edge of his underwear. His skin was so warm, and you examined him carefully, his muscles flexing under your fingertips. Warm breath washed over his clothed cock, and you saw him twitch out of the corner of your eye.

“Well,” Turning your head to look at him, you almost caved, seeing his burning red irises. His mouth was set into a thin line, and his eyebrows creased as you continued feeling along his thighs. “I don’t see any wounds - or dried blood - but…” As you trailed off, your hand dipped under the waistband of his boxers, your palm resting right below his belly button. “Maybe we should take everything off, just to make sure.”

Sylus stayed silent, his throat tightening as your fingertips brushed along the soft tuft of hair above his throbbing cock. You were so close but not quite at the place where he wanted you. Hell, he didn’t even realize he wanted, no - needed - you so desperately until he caught a glimpse of the sparkle in your eye as you cared for him, your hands cleaning him with tender touches.

Stripping him of his boxers was easy, his hips raising just enough off the bed to give you access. It was like he was clay in your hand, and you could mold him and push him into whatever you wanted. Fortunately, he was already what you wanted exactly how he was.

His cock stood proud as soon as his underwear was off and his body laid bare next to you. The pulsing red tip was leaking with arousal, dripping down his long shaft. It curved deliciously, and you could already feel how well he always pressed right against your walls. With a single finger, you traced the bottom of his cock, enjoying the very soft hitch in his breath when you circled your nail around his tip.

A low grunt fell from his lips, and his hand shot out to grip your waist. Drifting under your shirt, his own fingers began dancing along your bare skin. If he was naked, it was only fair for you to shed some layers as well…

“Do you -” A short groan followed as your attention moved to his balls. As much as he tried to speak, it was nearly impossible to when you cupped and massaged his sensitive balls with just one hand. After countless explorations under the belt, you were confident in knowing exactly what to do to get him to squirm.

“I’m still checking for wounds, Sy. Stay still.” The hand on his thigh delivered a gentle smack, and the man smirked. After giving him a playful look, you finally gave him the relief he so desperately craved. Your hand wrapped around him, feeling the pulse of blood rushing through his system. It was addicting … Seeing just how much you could affect him.

You moved to sit between his legs, and your eyes stayed focused on him as you hovered over his cock. Opening your mouth, you let a shiny string of spit fall, and it landed right on his throbbing skin. His mind swam with desire, and he took a mental image of the sight, wanting to make sure he never forgot how gorgeous you looked like that.

Beginning with slow strokes, you watched in awe as Sylus began to fall apart under your hands. One of his arms folded under the back of his head, propping himself up to get a better view of your fingers wrapped around him. The other arm fell on his abdomen, his muscles clenching and twitching as he bucked up into your hand.

“Have you…” A huff was pushed from his nose as your thumb brushed along the tip of his cock. The words were stuck for a moment until he cleared his throat. “Have you found any wounds yet, kitten?”

His neck and cheeks were flushed red as you looked up at him, seeing the pure desire in your eyes. It was fun like this, letting you do whatever you wanted to him… A small part of him loved how he could relinquish the reigns to you, but you knew that he could take over at the drop of a hat.

“No, I think you’re all healed…” Your hand continued its languid strokes, your other hand coming up to pay attention to his head and tip. His hips jerked as you rubbed your palm along his leaking tip, a saccharine smile on your lips as he let out a moan, unlike anything you had ever heard from him. “I did find something else I wanted, though.”

Leaning down, you wrapped your lips around his tip, your hand holding his hips down so he didn’t buck into your mouth. You lowered your head just enough, his leaking head wrapped in your warm lips. Sylus’ eyes closed as you suckled on his head, your tongue dipping in his slit and listening with glee as he growled above you.

“Fuck, kitten…” His voice was hoarse, and he didn’t think he could already be so close to release just from that . But as he watched the twinkle in your eyes, your hand wrapped tightly around him while the other kept him from chasing your warmth, he knew it all had to do with the person bringing him to the edge. “You look beautiful like this.”

A low hum from you caused Sylus to take a sharp breath in, the hand on his abdomen moving to rest on the back of your head. He made no move to usher you further down, his fingers lightly scratching your scalp. His whole body felt on fire, and his thumb brushed your hairline.

Fighting back a smile, your tongue continued its exploration, feeling every drop of precum and throb from his head. Your hand took care of the rest of his length, using your spit as a lubricant to make the slide easier. His breaths increased in speed, and his eyes stayed closed for a second longer with each tantalizing stroke of your hand.

When your hand was flush at his base, you pulled off with a pop , your eyes glassy with need as you looked up at your boyfriend. His eyes were vibrant red, and his mouth fell open in a gasp. He was so close …

Before he could say anything, perhaps even ask nicely for more of your mouth, you were standing at the end of the bed. The hand that was on the back of his head dropped to his cock. It wasn’t the same… Nothing would bring him the same satisfaction, not even his own calloused and scarred hands.

Your pajama shorts were the first to go, the wet patch thoroughly ruining them until you could put them in the wash. Throwing it to the side, your hands tugging at your baggy shirt until it was also discarded. Sylus’ eyebrows raised in lustful curiosity when he noticed you weren’t wearing any underwear. It was possible you never wore underwear to bed, but more often than not, he only focused on the feeling of you in his arms. He could almost get a peek at what he really wanted to see…

“Wow,” His hand continued stroking his cock, just enough to cause quick huffs of breath from his nose but not enough to actually get him there. The other hand stayed propped under his head, and he jerked his head up in a silent request, his eyes stuck on your thighs and hips. “Come here, beautiful…”

Going along with his ask, you climbed onto the bed, feeling his thighs tense and close slightly to allow you a better seat on his lap. Once you were close enough, Sylus’ hands held your hips tightly, pulling you down onto his lap. His cock was pressed between your soaked folds and his happy trail.

As soon as you could, your lips were on Sylus’. A low hum vibrated his chest as his hands splayed across your bare back, pushing you down so your body was flush against his. His tongue darted across your lower lip, and you granted him immediate entrance.

Your hands rested on his chest, and your thumbs flicked his nipples, enjoying the way he stopped kissing you for a split second as a jolt of electricity shot through him. His lips were soft, and you could taste a hint of mint gum while his tongue explored your mouth. It wasn’t unfamiliar territory, but he liked having a refresher as often as you would allow.

As you kissed him, his fingers gripped your hips, pushing and pulling you to grind your pussy on his length. Each time he pulled you forward, the head of his cock brushed against your clit, and Sylus swallowed all the small gasps that fell.

Finally, you pulled away from him just long enough to attach your lips to his jaw. His eyes closed on instinct, still breathing heavily from the kiss and the way you felt grinding on him. Each press of your mouth on him elicited a hum from the man below you, his head turning to the side to give you more access.

You took your time worshipping his skin, nipping and sucking at his neck and shoulder. There would definitely be marks… But the people at Onychinus wouldn’t dare question their boss’ private endeavors. Besides, Sylus always seemed to adore looking in the mirror after sex to admire the new marks you made on him.

“There you go, beautiful…” He sighed, one of his hands coming up to between your shoulder blades. Pressing down until every inch of your front was against him, he smiled, enjoying feeling your full weight on his hips and chest. “The marks you made last time faded so quickly. I was anticipating you giving me some new ones.”

His voice was sultry as he caressed your back, enjoying the slight pain as you sank your teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulders. It wasn’t enough to draw blood - though Sylus wouldn’t object to it - but there would most certainly be a bite mark the next morning… Oh, he loved it . He couldn’t get enough of you, your hands, your mouth, your pussy… Just the way you were pressed against him, he could come right then and there.

“Come on, kitten.” He was getting impatient, his cock enduring the way too gentle grinding of your folds that enveloped him. There was no way he could take any more of that teasing; he needed to be buried inside you. “Need your perfect pussy wrapped around me.”

Lifting you up, he held his cock, rubbing the tip back and forth to collect your arousal. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his tip nuzzled your entrance. You fought back a whimper as you lowered yourself down, feeling the curve of his cock press right against that one spot inside you.

The hair above his cock tickled your clit, and you furrowed your eyebrows, taking a second to get used to the stinging stretch. It had been some time since you saw Sylus, been able to feel every inch of him, and you felt your pussy getting used to his cock once more, welcoming the familiar thickness.

One of your hands threaded through his hair while the other still grasped his chest, your palm digging into his nipple. Moments turned into seconds, which turned into minutes as Sylus let you choose when to move, his hand coming to cup your cheek. He brushed along your skin with a gentle touch, admiring the way your expression was lost in a mix of pleasure and an uncomfortable stretch that would get better in a moment.

“You’re doing so well, such a good girl for me…” The words were pressed right against your neck, his nose brushing along your pulse point as he relished in the way you fit so perfectly in his grasp. His heart raced as he felt you squeeze around him, his hips fighting the urge to buck up into your heat.

After a minute, you propped yourself up, your hips grinding in circles. His trimmed pubic bone was hard against your clit, and you moaned, the sensations all becoming too much . Sylus’ face was right in front of you, his nose brushing along your cheekbone as he let you control the pace for the moment. The hand that was on your cheek landed on your breast, kneading the flesh and tweaking your nipple. Each touch caused you to constrict around his cock, your own body betraying just how turned on you were.

His lips were on your neck, spurring you on to lift up off his lap. The friction of his thick cock inside you was ravenous , and you felt a whisper of a whine blocked by your clothed lips. It felt amazing , with his hand gently guiding you up until just his tip was nestled inside you. You were so empty … So you chased the feeling by dropping back down, a harsh slap coming from your hips as you paused.

Sylus took a deep breath, smelling the remnants of your perfume from the day and the hint of your shampoo. It felt like he was drunk, the way his mind was in a complete haze, his eyes slightly glassy as his ears trained on your surroundings. No matter how good he felt, a small part of him still made sure to listen for even the slightest noise of danger.

He definitely heard the slapping of your soaked pussy on his hips as you fucked yourself on his cock… Nothing would make him miss that . The rhythm was uneven, and with each time you pulled away, he was nipping at your breasts that entered his field of vision.

“Fuck…” His lips were right next to your ear, and his tongue darted out to the junction of your jaw. The smallest touch set you off, moans of his name falling from your lips with each caress. His throbbing tip pressed right against your g-spot, allowing bright stars to appear behind your eyelids when you closed your eyes.

A warm puff of air escaped his nose, fanning across your neck, and you could feel his hands becoming a bit more needy. His hand on your hip moved to your ass, kneading the flesh and helping you rise and fall on his cock. Spreading you apart to feel the cold air on your pussy, stuffed full of him and only him. Oh, he wished he had a camera… Maybe next time …

Sylus’ lips turned more desperate as he kissed along the column of your neck, listening to the moans and whimpers of his name as you tried so hard to fuck yourself on his cock but couldn’t get the right pace. Low whines fanned out across his shoulder as you leaned down. Your entire body weight was on him, and he loved it . You were like his own personal weighted blanket, and he immediately wrapped his arm around your lower back, holding you in your position.

“Good girl,” His voice wrapped around you, and his cock twitched as you sat fully on top of him. It was exhausting, and you took a few deep breaths. You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and you pressed a tired kiss to his shoulder. “Just relax, beautiful. I’ll do the work now.”

Without warning, his hands held you tightly. His hips bucked up, burying himself so deeply inside you that you could swear you felt him in your stomach. Sylus set a brutal pace, abandoning his earlier gentle caresses and kisses for the slapping of balls on your ass and biting into your shoulder.

A low growl erupted from his throat as he felt your pussy clench around him in a vice grip. Planting his feet, he listened to the slapping of skin on skin and the increase of your moans. Whimpers and near screams of his name bounced off the walls, and fuck if he could just record that for when you couldn’t come visit him…

His hips pistoned in and out of you, taking all the control that you once thought you had and keeping it to himself. There wasn’t anything you could do except lay there and take it just like a good girl… His good girl…

“Fuck, Sylus.” The words drifted off your tongue and took root in his heart, his hips stuttering each and every time he heard his name in such a desperate and loving tone. He gave you anything and everything you could want, but what you needed was release. “Please…”

His hand moved to your lower back, pressing you down with each thrust up to make sure he was exactly where he belonged. His other hand stayed on your breast, tweaking your nipple in time with his thrusts.

“There you go, beautiful.” His voice was strained, the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock making him go absolutely crazy. “Are you close?” A frantic nod of your head followed his words, and your moans of his name were muffled as you buried your face in his neck.

With a gentle yet demanding grip on your head, he pulled you back slightly, his nose brushing yours. His red eyes shone in the light of your lamp as he studied your features. He had seen you up close too many times to count, but nothing would ever compare to the glassy film over your irises as you were brought closer and closer to climax. All because of him …

“Eyes on me, beautiful.” His lips brushed against your cheek, watching as a line of drool fell from the corner of your lips. To see you so lost in your pleasure, focusing only on the way his cock fit so perfectly inside you, it almost made him come. But he had to wait; no, the good part would be there in just a moment… “Good girl… I want to see your face when you come undone on my cock.”

His hips sped up slightly as he felt you flutter around him, and he knew the signs of your impending release. The pace he set was relentless, and almost on cue, Sylus held you down on top of him. His entire cock nestled inside you, feeling your walls tighten like an iron grip as your climax hit its peak. He slowly ground you down so your clit was stimulated by his pubic bone, enjoying the way your body trembled and jerked in his grasp. “There you go, I got you…” Collapsing on top of him, you were only given a moment of rest before Sylus held your hips up. His tip was kissing your entrance, and he gave you a gentle peck on the cheek. A genuine smile on his lips as he took in your debauched appearance.

“I love you, beautiful.” As soon as the sentence left his mouth, his hips began an all too familiar pace from just seconds before. He was chasing his own release and wanted to make sure you knew just how precious you were to him before using you so harshly. Well, it wasn’t harsh … Just desperate … And he did it before, so you braced yourself, your hand threading through his hair as you let him hold you completely still.

Overstimulation set in quickly, and although it was edging into somewhat uncomfortable, Sylus never lasted long like that. He was weak for you, and only you and a second inside your tight heat was a second closer to his orgasm.

Time slowed down as his abdomen clenched, his pace stuttering until, all at once, he held you back against him. His cock twitched with each spurt of cum that painted your insides, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that fell from your lips.

Gasps and breaths were shared between you as you lay limp on his chest. Looking down, Sylus brushed a hand across your cheek, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. In the soft, warm glow of your lamp, he admired you for who you truly were… Beautiful, alluring, passionate, and undeniably his.

Not his as a possession , but his as an addition. You added a whole other aspect to his life; you were his to love, his to adore, his to protect. Just as he was yours. Yours in every iteration of the word.

“You did so well for me, beautiful…” He mumbled into your hair, his hands splaying across your back and massaging the muscles of your torso. His softening cock was still inside you, yet neither of you made a move away from your position. It was so intimate, with the looming sunrise nearly on the horizon, you basked in the afterglow of two people who cared unconditionally for each other.

“Rest for a bit,” His voice was barely a whisper as he laid back on the bed, looking out the window at the starry sky as it began to dissipate. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours so we can clean up.”

Another kiss to the top of your head, his day ending and bleeding into his normal night. It was the opposite of yours, yet he would stay up for eternity if it meant being with you like that.

He watched as you drifted off, the exhaustion of being woken up in the middle of the night finally catching up to you. With a small smile only meant for you, he studied your face, content with laying there awake.

“Good night, beautiful.”

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vxsellie · 9 months ago

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domestic gf! ellie

summary. random headcannons about living a small, domestic life with ellie as your girlfriend

notes. nothing makes me happier than domesticity so it was only a matter of time before i made smth like this ! also i haven't made any 'headcannon' posts yet so the setup might be ass bc i fr have no idea what im doing ,, to make up for it i made the post super aesthetic & i'm obsessed w it now xx

warnings. some mentions of sex, it's not necessarily smut it's just the act of loving someone intimately & sometimes being super horny !! overall, this is almost pure fluff though i swear ◡̈

𐙚 first and foremost, ellie def prefers a little life over anything huge or extravagant. she'd take a long morning in bed with u over the met gala any day.

𐙚 something about sun rays filing through dusty shudders makes her heart swell.

𐙚 dirty dishes in the sink, wrinkled bed sheets, cluttered countertops, half-finished home decor, crumples papers, miasma from the bathroom trashcan, that one light you both always forget to shut off. she loves it, all of it.

𐙚 but what she loves most about this life of yours is you.

𐙚 waking up in the morning to see your body sprawled across her chest, a stained band tee clinging to you'd body.

𐙚 hearing you hum songs in the shower while she brushes her teeth at the sink.

𐙚 coming up to wrap her arms around your waist while you cook dinner after a long day of irritable coworkers and snobby customers. then, following that, being able to look across the table at you as you complain about your own day, the taste of your burnt cooking on her tongue.

𐙚 going to the grocery store with you early in the morning after waking to find you're out of cereal for breakfast, both of you insisting you'd thought the other agreed to buy it.

𐙚 your lidded eyes squinting as you read the price tag, leaning heavily on the shopping cart. you're both hungry and tired and annoyed, but have no energy to argue, instead opting to ignore your shared frustration and find solace in the other rather than anger.

𐙚 ellie loading the new groceries onto the conveyor belt while you sleepily fumble with your wallet, still smiling and making conversation with the grocer despite everything.

𐙚 then, getting home and being able to eat your newly purchased cereal, your head leaning on her shoulder as you're both curled up on the couch in front of the tv.

𐙚 ellie oftentimes likes to sit at her desk, scribbling little drawings or entries into her journal while you fill your head with your own random hobbies.

𐙚 she drives you crazy when she taps her pencil against the surface of the desk.

𐙚 the two of you have argued over that a few times, actually. you shouting at her for how annoying the repetitive sound is while she tries to explain that she doesn't even realize she's doing it (though, you don't believe that for a second).

𐙚 over time, however, you've learned to just put on your headphones whenever she journals, the habit becoming as natural to you as drumming her pencil is to ellie.

𐙚 whenever either of you are on your period, the other is certain to be synced, both of you hurting and angry and craving random foods you can't remember the names of. that week is either the worst of your lives, spent arguing and fighting and sobbing; or it's the best, spent singing together in the shower and cooking new recipes and laughing together at ellie's unfunny dad jokes.

𐙚 then, following that week, ovulation hits and you're both completely different people.

𐙚 after you just spent days upon days of working through agonizing pain, you're now unable to think of anything aside from ripping the other's clothes off.

𐙚 dinners go uneaten as she eats you out atop the counter instead; rooms go unswept as you pin her against the nearest wall with an animalistic fervor; her drawings go unfinished as she gets distracted by the girl lying naked in your bed, fingers finding other ways to occupy themselves.

𐙚 ellie has seen you in every state.

𐙚 with greasy unkempt hair, unshaved (everywhere), stained clothing you deem to be 'clean enough', dirt under your nails, unbrushed teeth in the morning.

𐙚 but she doesn't care. she'll still run her fingers through your hair, still rub soothing circles into spiky skin, still strip stained clothes off of you just as desperately, still hold your dirtied hands, still kiss you on the mouth without a care in the world.

𐙚 sometimes, ellie will write songs & ask for your opinion on them.

𐙚 of course, you always tell her how good they are and how proud you are of her. but sometimes you mentally cringe at certain lines or wince at a off-key note.

𐙚 but you love her enough to lie to her face with a curt smile.

𐙚 and even more than that, you love seeing her happy and proud of herself. the sight of her toothy grin and twinkling eyes makes it all worth it.

𐙚 plus, eighty percent of the time, her songs are super fucking good and you're stuck by the passion and care she puts into writing them. the gentility in her intricate fabrication of certain notes and pitches makes your heart stutter. the way her entire body work alongside the guitar with such delicacy that you're sure the two have merged into one tangible being.

𐙚 see, ellie is enamored by the simple things you do ⎯ the way you rip a brush through your hair in the mornings, the gentle whistle you do while cooking or cleaning or doing chores, the fact that you seem to be incapable of making the bed in the morning, the way you always leave your shared shampoo uncapped, the pursing of your lips as you try a new recipe you wanted to try & aren't sure whether you like.

𐙚 these are the things she loves most about you. the things that make her excited to live the rest of her life with you, greasy hair and all.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 taglist : @luvsturniolo @zombieegirl

#vxsellie !#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x reader #domestic fluff #fluff

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criminalamnesia · 3 months ago

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random scenario my brain made up a few nights ago!!

you and bucky and steve had been childhood best friends. when the boys enlisted, you followed close behind, donning white as you learned your role as a military nurse.

after steve’s transformation into the captain, he specifically requested that you and bucky were assigned to stay by his side. although other officials tried to deny him this— they said it would be distracting— steve refused to fulfill his role without the two of you.

although unspoken, you had always had something more with bucky. steve knew, but it didn’t bother him. you were like a sister to him, and bucky was like his brother. he was ecstatic that his two favorite people were finding solace in one another.

and then the train incident happens, and you both lose bucky. it tears the both of you to shreds— all you can do is hold each other and sob, unable to articulate how soul-crushing it is to lose a man you both loved in your own ways.

a month after bucky dies, steve loses you too. it’s really unclear how it happens. one minute you’re there, tending to the wounded, dragging soldiers back toward the medical tents. the next you’re gone, your stained nurse’s cap left forgotten in the dirt.

steve is beside himself. two parts of him have gone, both presumably dead, and he struggles to cope.

he tries sacrifice himself against the red skull, but against his will, is reawakened a century later in a time he doesn’t know with people he doesn’t understand.

but then he starts to heal, starts to let others in again. after all, steve can’t help his kind heart. he empathizes with natasha, comes to understand tony. finds companionship in sam and finally feels like his two childhood friends, although gone, have come back in the form of a redhead assassin and the falcon.

and then he meets the winter soldier and his shadow.

her name isn’t known to shield’s records. those that have seen her rarely live to tell the tale. natasha is able to offer even less information on her than she is about the brute with the metal arm.

it takes steve aback, how in sync the soldier and his shadow fight. it’s eerie— the soldier tosses up a knife, a hand appears out of the shadows and grabs it. no words spoken, none needed. a deep understanding of one another, the trauma endured and the bond forged making the two into one.

the mask falls from the solider first, and steve swears his heart stops. bucky. his bucky. his best friend, his brother, alive and standing in front of him.

nothing happens for a second— a second that feels like a lifetime to steve as he relives watching bucky fall to his death. to holding you as the both of your mourned a body that would never be found.

the winter soldier extends a hand to the side, and his partner steps out of shadows, placing a knife into his open palm. she had taken to holding back natasha and sam while bucky fought steve. sometime during the fight, she had lost her mask as well.

and steve falls to his knees as you fully materialize out of the dark, shadows receding around you, curling from the tips of your fingers and finally dissipating.

hydra had gotten you, too.

it made too much sense. you and bucky had always had a bond deeper than friends, deeper than lovers, even. you were intertwined so deeply, one could not take a step without the other knowing. (if only the two of you had acted on things sooner).

the one key to bucky’s heart, the one that could influence him even more than steve could, was you. the greatest weakness. hydra capitalized on that weakness, turning you into something that killed instead of something that healed.

stressing your bond with your lover, manipulating it so perversely and making you into two killers, two halves of a whole.

at least you had each other, he thinks.

(he later finds out that having each other was no solace, no escape. it was double the torture— physical and emotional— as they took one’s transgressions out on the other.)

and even though this has happened, that he barely recognizes the two souls standing in front of him, he feels whole again. because you are both alive and seemingly healthy and able to be reached.

bucky tucks the knife into his belt and extends his hand to you once again.

you take it, and the two of you melt away, darkness filling the space you once occupied.

#idk what this is #the winter soldier #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #the winter solider x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #I hate hydra #we do not stan hydra #and this is not meant to glorify them #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers angst

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moophywowie · 28 days ago

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Tell me about ur shuffle :3

Just the basic info :3

Like groups and members:3

UWAH I FORGOT I HAD THIS ASK SORRY ….

there’s the cooler way to explain this using the masterpost but i don’t really wanna do that because i’ve thought about the most basic explanation of their premise for each of them fufuff

they might not explain this the most clearly or cleanly but this is what I came up with ^_^ (Note: solace sync has Light Up the Fire spoilers for people who don’t already know)

Kawaii♡CROSSBONES: Consists of Airi, Kohane, Ena, Mafuyu (VS is Miku and KAITO). J-Metal (Think of BABYMETAL for reference if needed) group of Airi seeing three introverts and subsequently adopting them because she wants to play guitar and help people again (effectively helping all of them strive for making their own wishes a reality)

Doki Doki ♪ Harmony: Constisting of Nene, Emu, Minori, Honami (VS: Miku and Rin).

Teenagers forming a theatre troupe to try and follow all of their dreams together (Nene’s wanting to perform onstage, Emu and Minori wanting to bring smiles and hope respectively, and Honami wanting to have people to play music and be close to with)

solace sync: Consists of An, Kanade, Ichika, and Shiho (VS: Miku and Luka). They’re the equivalent of those pathetic wet cats and decide that music is their escape from everything because their life sucks (includes bonus relationship drama/j) (extra context, An learned of Nagi’s death much earlier than in canon)

reviving/crescendo: Has Haruka, Tsukasa, Toya, and Shizuku (VS: Miku and MEIKO). Ruh roh more sad people, but they all gave up on their (original) dreams or passions (Toya gave up both classical and street music in this case), but are working together to try and rekindle the love for the stuff they lost.

KaleidoNOTE: Lineup of Saki, Rui, Akito, and Mizuki (VS: Miku and Len). Teenagers been fed up with being seen as one-note or only as the thing they’re known for (Saki being chronically ill, Rui with the rumors, Akito as BAD DOG(s), Mizuki & their secret), and deciding to present their anger and desire to be seen as them through music

#project sekai #pjsk shuffle unit #pjsk unit shuffle #pjsk unit shuffle au #pjsk shuffle units #kawaii♡CROSSBONES #Doki Doki ♪ Harmony #solace sync #reviving/crescendo #KaledioNOTE

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stainedglassunitshuffle · 6 days ago

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Doki Doki got theirs, and now it’s solace sync’s turn to have live2d models!!

will probably get more mini stuff (ex: textposts and 3dmv screenshots, probably with a few edits in there if I can… plotting…) as I continue on with more models and Mainstories :3

#solace sync #pjsk unit shuffle #pjsk shuffle units

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fandoms-x-reader · 6 months ago

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Mother Figure

Oneshot

Requested By: @ambitiouslady

Summary: Lucifer and his brothers with an MC where Lucifer acts as the strict father figure and MC acts as the gentle mother figure. Lucifer x Reader (Romantically) The Other Demon Brothers x Reader (Familial) Word Count: 1,322

A/N: The reader is referred to as a mother figure but there are no feminine pronouns.

When you first got to the Devildom, you had no idea what was in store for you. You had no idea what to expect in a situation where a human has to live with a group of demons and has to adjust to their way of living.

You didn’t expect to grow so close to the demon brothers and you didn’t expect them to be such troublemakers either.

Sometimes, they would try to involve you in their schemes, but most of the time, you were the one they came to after their plan inevitably failed or when Lucifer caught them. They found solace in you.

Lucifer would give them a long and terrible lecture about their wrongdoings while discussing their punishment.

And when he was finally done with his scolding, they would seek out comfort from you.

You had a way of always putting them at ease. Even though, most of the time, you agreed with Lucifer.

Sometimes the brothers were a bit too reckless and you knew that most of the time, Lucifer’s lectures came from a place of deep care for his brothers. He didn’t want anything to happen to them. And in this mind, the only way to stop them from doing it again was to punish them.

He didn’t see that his punishments didn’t work as effectively as he wished. Luckily, he had you there to help emphasize his point.

You would gently reproach their actions, telling them everything that could go wrong before defending the things Lucifer was saying.

The difference was, they actually listened to you. You had a way of getting through to them - something Lucifer was envious of and something he admired very deeply.

The way that you took care of his brothers (and him) and never complained made him fall for you more and more every day.

You were someone he respected and someone he could depend on and that was something that Lucifer was sorely missing in his daily life.

Before long, you and Lucifer were acting in sync as honorary parents to the brothers. And with your help, some order was restored to the House of Lamentation.

Mammon would go to the casino, but he wouldn’t stay out all night or gamble away every last dime he had. And you even got him to turn his assignments in on time.

Levi had learned to spend more time out of his room, actually interacting with the people he called his family. And he cut back on his spending on Akuzon.

Satan still liked to keep to himself, but he noticed that Lucifer was much more tolerable whenever you were with him.

Asmo used to stay out multiple nights at the club and would return when he felt like it; but, after expressing your concerns, he made sure to come home at a reasonable time.

Beel learned to control his ravaging of the fridge and pantry. He was rewarded by your delicious cooking whenever he resisted his temptation, and he came to learn that was always better than eating anything and everything.

Belphie was able to stay awake at least to do the important things - like school and chores. You couldn’t even remember how long it had been since he and Satan came up with an Anti-Lucifer League scheme.

And Lucifer couldn’t remember a time when he had been happier. It was like you came into his life, picked up all of the pieces, and fixed everything.

In his mind, you were the perfect addition to the family, and the way you loved all of them - the way you loved him - meant everything to him.

For once, Lucifer could admit that things were nearly perfect. But then, his brothers went missing.

It had been two days since either of you heard from them and the worry lines were about to become permanent on your faces.

You did your best to try and comfort Lucifer and keep him calm as you both searched for them. But, he was teetering on a very fine line of losing his mind, and to be honest, so were you.

You needed to find them - quickly. Because you were sure that Lucifer would uproot all three realms to find them if he had to.

He continuously reached out to his connections around the Devildom while you continued to text and call the brothers - hoping one of them would eventually answer.

Then one day, as you were noticing the dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes from lack of sleep, the front door to the House opened.

You held your breath as you both rushed to the door and watched as all six of his brothers walked in with sheepish expressions on their faces.

You were relieved, just glad they were okay, and you immediately approached them to hug them.

As you did, you noticed they were injured and you ushered them into the living room to tend to their wounds.

As you passed by Lucifer, you noticed the look of anger on his face and you braced yourself for the long lecture that he was about to give.

And long was an understatement. You felt like Lucifer went on for years as he harshly scolded them.

You did your best to interject with phrases like, “We were really worried about you,” and, “It would kill us if something happened to you.”

By the time you were done patching up their wounds, Lucifer was done talking and walked off to go to his room for the night.

You gave them all a small smile and they could feel the love you had for them without you having to state it.

They didn’t say it often enough but they were so grateful that of all the choices, you were the human that came into their life.

“Get some rest,” you told them gently, knowing they all desperately needed it. They looked exhausted. And you could always talk more tomorrow.

You watched them all go to bed before heading up to Lucifer’s room. You knocked softly but he already knew who it was before you did.

He invited you in and when you entered, you saw him sitting on his bed, his usual vest and tie off. You noticed he looked a bit more relaxed now as his shirt was somewhat unbuttoned and his hair was a bit messier than usual.

You came to sit by him on the bed and he looked at you, his black and red eyes shining with love for you.

“They’re okay,” you told him and he let out a deep breath in response. You swore you could physically see the tension release from his muscles as the feeling of relief flooded his body.

He wasn’t good at admitting it. He believed he always had to keep up the strong and strict personality of the first-born. But, he was worried.

You gently took his hand in yours and you couldn’t help but smile as you thought about him.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing the way your lips had turned upwards. “You’re a great big brother,” you replied, in a gently teasing voice.

Lucifer let out a scoff but you could see the blush rise to his cheeks and for once, he didn’t have the energy to deny your allegations.

To take the attention off himself he gently stroked your cheek and told you, “I’m lucky to have you. We all are.”

He smirked as you were now wearing a blush of your own before gently placing his lips on yours. “Thank you,” he said barely above a whisper as he intensely gazed into your eyes, making your heart skip a beat.

And it was in those moments that you felt lucky to have them.

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eternalguk · 6 months ago

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Our Quiet Christmas | jjk. (M)

You are my home, my home for all seasons.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : After a whirlwind year of schedules, chaos, and never-ending to-do lists, Jungkook whisks you and your daughter away to a secluded cabin for a much-needed Christmas getaway. With snowflakes falling outside and the crackling fire keeping the cold at bay, it’s the perfect chance to slow down and soak in the love that makes your little family so special… But Jungkook has more than just cosy movie nights and snowman-building in mind—he’s set on expanding your family, and he’s not exactly subtle about it. Between his playful charm, heartfelt confessions, and stolen kisses by the fire, it’s hard to resist the idea of giving Areum the sibling Jungkook can’t stop dreaming about.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, dad!jungkook x mom!reader, marriage au, comfort au, pwp

↠ Word count : 9.3K

↠ Warnings : making out, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), riding, missionary, impregnation!kink, dirty talking, begging, dom!jungkook, sub!reader (think that’s all)

↠ A/n : hi there ; merry Christmas Eve 🎄! I hope you’re all having a restful break and enjoying the holiday period 🫶🏻 I present you soft dad!Jungkook being absolutely smitten with his family. Snowy vibes, fireplace cuddles, Jungkook being charmingly relentless about baby number two, and you trying (and failing) to resist his puppy eyes. Feedback is always appreciated & happy reading 🦢!

↠ Song : Snowman by Sia

Winter had arrived. An icy serenade surrounds you yet the warmth of love is all you feel. An old Christmas movie plays in the background and the smell of home-baking permeates the air.

Comfort, peace and solace is all you feel right now.

“This years going to be different, I can feel it in my bones.”

“Guk, baby you say that every year.”

“No no, I’m sure about this one, you see I can feel it-

“In my bones.” You both say in sync, causing Jungkook to chuckle as he brings his hand to your jaw, moving your face towards him so he can kiss you.

His lips join yours in a soft, gentle manner.

Years have passed, but every time you and Jungkook kiss, you swear you feel the same butterflies that you felt when he kissed you for the first time after your third date outside the art gallery.

Magical. That’s how you’d describe kissing Jungkook.

His lips were warm, soft, and when they touched yours, there was no rush. Jungkook deepens the kiss ever so slightly, letting the pressure build with gentle insistence, the rhythm of the kiss calm but full of intention.

The two of you are lying on the couch, legs entangled under your daughter's blanket as you watch the fireplace emit sparks of warmth, bathing the wooden interior with golden hues.

“Eomma, appa!” A voice calls out, full of pride.

Areum.

4 years old and a bundle of joy. Your bundle of joy.

“Look, I fixed it!” Areum’s tiny and soft voice breaks the quiet. She jolts into the room, clutching the wooden reindeer ornament Jungkook had given her to paint earlier this morning. It had been her project all afternoon.

The reindeer was, to put it kindly, a riot of colour - blobs of red, green, and yellow mixing like a child’s dream of Christmas. One of its legs appeared a bit wobbly, but it stood proud, just like Areum did right now, her rosy cheeks flushed with pride.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle, sitting up slightly as the blanket slips down his chest. “Wow, princess, you really did that all by yourself, mhm?”

“Mm-hm!” Areum nodded vigorously, imitating her father. Her dark hair bounces as she hurries to place it on the small mantle above the fireplace.

You smile softly at your princess, watching Jungkook’s eyes glisten with adoration like a knight in shining armour. His role as a father suits him more than you could have ever imagined. The playful glint in his gaze softens into something so reverent every time Areum enters the room.

You know confidently that she is his whole world, as much as she is yours.

“Appa, is it good?” Areum’s wide eyes sought his approval.

“Good? Baby, it’s perfect, just like you,” Jungkook says warmly, reaching for her hand and pulling her into his lap. She lets out a giggle as he peppers her face with kisses, her tiny hands swatting at his cheeks playfully.

“Go easy on her, Guk,” you tease, leaning your head against the armrest of the couch as you tuck your legs under the blanket again.

Jungkook grins at you, Areum still squirming in his arms. “I’ll stop when she says ‘my appa is the best.’”

“My appa is the best!” she squeals, breaking into a fit of laughter and reaching to kiss her fathers cheek.

A Mini Jungkook indeed.

Satisfied, Jungkook sets her down gently, watching as she scurries off to grab another decoration. He leans back on the couch with a contented sigh, the blanket once again draped over the two of you.

“You know,” he begins, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “this is exactly what I needed. Just us. No schedules, no phone calls, no distractions.” His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone as his chocolate brown eyes hold yours, the firelight dancing in its depth.

“I know,” you softly murmur, running your fingers over the back of his hand. “This year has been so… relentless? It’s nice to just breathe and soak in the silence.”

You both sigh, snuggling into one another despite being as close as humanly possible.

“Except when Areum remembers she has parents,” you chuckle, shaking your head in laughter as you see her ornament.

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a small smile. “Speaking of Areum interrupting our silence…” He shifts even closer, his voice dropping to that low tone he uses when he wants to get under your skin. “I’ve been thinking about adding another little someone to, you know, interrupt our quiet moments. What do you think?”

Your eyes flicker to him, your breath hitching at his boldness. You contemplate playing aloof, but your husband’s abruptness stops you. “Are you serious?”

Jungkook nods, the grin on his face unmistakably cheeky now. “I mean, we’ve been talking about it for a while. And look at Areum - she’s so ready to be a big sister. Aren’t you, princess?” he called out to her.

Areum looked up from where she was arranging ornaments on the small tree by the window, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Hmm, Appa?”

“Are you ready to be a big sister, my angel?” Jungkook questions her tenderly.

“What’s that?” Areum queries, curiosity etched into every feature of her face. “How do we get one?”

You stifle a laugh, your cheeks warming. “Don’t confuse her, Guk.”

But Jungkook was undeterred, his hand sliding under your sweater to rest on your hip beneath the blanket. “Just think about it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Another little one resting here with us next year. Maybe a boy this time… although I wouldn’t mind another girl if she’s as perfect as Areum.”

Your heart clenches at the thought. You could picture it so clearly—a tiny baby, smaller than a bag of sugar from the grocers, cradled in Jungkook’s strong arms, Areum’s careful hands reaching out to stroke a soft cheek and your hand clutching your heart at the scene. The cabin, filled with even more love than it already is.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you say, turning to press a peck to his jaw.

“I’m just optimistic,” Jungkook counters, his dimples showing as he smiles down at you. “And we’d be so good at it, don’t you think?”

Before you could answer, Areum runs back over, throwing herself between the two of you with an exuberant laugh. “I found the star!”

The star.

Jungkook had promised Areum that when she finds his hidden star, he will help her put it on top of the already full tree. The things this man did to get a quiet moment with you…

“Eomma, can we put it on top of the tree now?”

“Of-”

“Of course, princess,” Jungkook interrupts, sweeping her up effortlessly and carrying her to the tree.

You laugh at the father daughter interaction. Maybe you did need another baby to keep you company.

You watch the two from the couch, your chest swelling with gratitude. The year had been chaotic to say the least, but this - this simple, intimate moment right here - was everything you’d ever yearned for.

Jungkook catches your eye as he lifts Areum high enough to place the star on the tree. He gives you a knowing wink, his silent promise clear: there was more love to come.

And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to embrace it.

After the tree was decorated to Areum’s satisfaction - every inch of its branches covered in her creative flair - Jungkook carried her upstairs to put her to bed.

You decided to stay downstairs, tidying up the remnants of her crafting supplies and rearranging a few of the more precariously placed ornaments. The cabin is even quieter now, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams and the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice drifting from the upper floor.

He’s singing to her.

It’s something Jungkook has done since Areum was a baby, and the sound of his melodic voice humming a lullaby never fails to warm your heart.

You lean against the doorway, pausing to listen. His voice, smooth and honeyed, wraps around the melody like a cosy blanket.

You carry on clearing Areum’s toys away, wanting the place to be nice and tidy before Christmas Eve tomorrow.

When Jungkook finally comes downstairs, steps light and careful, his eyes meet yours. “Out like a light,” he whispers softly as though he’s scared to wake her, running a hand through his messy hair. “I barely made it through the second verse.”

“She always loves when you sing to her,” you pout, crossing the room to take his hand. “Just like me.”

Jungkook pulls you into his arms, your cheek pressing against his welcoming chest. “I think I’ve got some magic left tonight,” he whispers in a low voice, his lips brushing your hairline.

“Oh, do you now?” you taunt, tilting your head to look up at him. “What tricks you gonna show me?”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to capture your lips. But, before he could do so, something catches both of your attention. A faint tapping sound comes from the large bay window at the front of the cabin.

Curious, you turn towards it, only to see that snow has begun falling in earnest. The flakes were large and fluffy, blanketing the world outside in pristine white.

Jungkook steps out of your embrace, walking to the window to get a better view.

“Jagi, it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“I can’t believe it,” you run to the window, happiness like that of a child.

Jungkook stands there for a moment, his broad shoulders outlined by the golden glow of the fireplace, before turning to you with a mischievous grin. “It’s perfect. Let’s go.”

“What? Now?” you exclaim, your brows lifting in surprise. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“Why not?” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s just us, remember? No one’s here to tell us we can’t.” Jungkook pulls a funny face which you can’t help but laugh at.

You hesitate for a second, but the gleam in his eye is irresistible. Laughing, you grab your woolly coat and leather knee-high boots, following him outside into the magical winter night.

The air is crisp and sharp, biting at your cheeks and nose, but the snow truly made everything feel softer, quieter, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton wool and there was no way out. The two of you stand on the small porch, the snow crunching underfoot, watching as the forest rapidly around you transforms into a winter wonderland.

Jungkook turns to you, his eyes sparkling. “Dance with me, jagi.”

You laugh again, shivering as he grabs your hands. “There’s no music, you idiot!”

“Sure there is,” he replies swiftly, stepping closer. “Listen. The wind, the snow, the quiet. That’s all the music we need.”

Jungkook begins to sway with you, his hands warm as they enveloped yours. The two of you move slowly, his body sheltering you from the cold. Snowflakes are caught in his dark hair, his nose reddening from the chill, but he looks as handsome as ever, his smile lighting up the night.

“This is what I meant,” he hushly says, voice low and intimate. “Just us. No rush, no noise. Just you, me, our princess, and moments like this.”

You move forward to rest your head on his chest, letting the quiet envelop you both in a warm hug. Jungkook’s arms tighten around you, his chin coming to rest on your head.

“I think you might be right,” you whisper, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“Right? About what, love?”

“This year being different. It already feels like it is.”

Jungkook pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softening. “It’s different because we make it that way,” he reassures you, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “And we will keep making it better. Every year, every moment. Together.”

The snow continues to fall, and for a while, you simply stand there, swaying in the quietude, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world around you disappears, leaving only the two of you and the love that made every moment worth remembering.

Once the cold began to creep through your coats and boots, Jungkook insisted on pulling you back inside, laughing at the way your teeth chattered as you kicked off your snow-covered boots.

You now stand in the living area, shivering like a child in a cold cradle.

“I told you it was too cold,” you huff, trying to warm your hands with your breath.

“And I told you it was worth it,” he nonchalantly replies, tugging off his gloves and taking your icy hands in his. His larger palms envelop yours, the heat of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. “Better, baby?”

You nod, letting him guide you back to the couch.

Jungkook grabs the blanket you were sharing earlier, draping it over the two of you as you snuggle close, your body seeking the warmth radiating from him.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. Jungkook reaches for the mug of hot chocolate he’d abandoned earlier, holding it to your lips for you to sip. The sweetness and warmth spread through your chest, and you sighed in contentment, leaning back into his embrace, inhaling his woody scent.

For a while, neither of you speak, simply basking in the serene silence and your comforting presence. Jungkook rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms circling your waist as you both gazed at the fire.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly, breaking the silence.

“Of course, babe.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, his thumb absently tracing circles on your hip. “I meant what I said earlier, you know? About wanting another baby.”

You turn slightly to look at him, your brow lifting in curiosity. “Really?”

“Yes,” he says confidently, his eyes soft but steady. “Areum’s growing up so fast, and every time I see her smile or hear her laugh, I think… we made that. You and me. She’s this perfect little person, and I can’t help but think how amazing it would be to do it all over again.”

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it impossible to brush off the idea. You’d talked about it in passing before, but the way he spoke now felt different.

Earnest. Hopeful. Loving.

“You make it sound so easy,” you chuckle, though your voice was softer than you intended.

Jungkook snickers, his breath warm against your neck. “I know it’s not. The sleepless nights, the mess, the chaos… but it’s worth it, isn’t it? Every bit of it. I mean, just look at what we’ve already got.”

Your gaze flicks to the staircase, where you could just imagine Areum fast asleep in her bed, her little chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

“You’re right,” you admit, turning back to him. “She’s the best thing we’ve ever done.”

Jungkook leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “And we can do it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If you’re ready, of course.”

Your eyes meet his, searching them for any trace of doubt, but there is none. Only love and unwavering belief in the life you’d built together.

A soft smile tugs at your lips. “Maybe,” you say, your tone playful but your heart already leaning towards yes. “We’ll see.”

Jungkook’s grin widens, the dimple in his cheek making an appearance. “That’s not a no.”

Jungkook’s persistence was truly admirable.

“It’s not a yes either,” you counter, however, you can’t stop yourself from laughing as Jungkook leans in to kiss you, his hands sliding up your back.

“You’ll come around,” he mutters against your lips, voice low and teasing. “You always do.”

“Don’t get ahead yourself, mister,” you chuckle as you move to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The fire crackles before you, its warmth matching the heat building between you.

Jungkook’s kisses deepen, his hands tighten their hold on you, and for a moment, the world fades again, leaving only the two of you in your little cocoon of love.

But then a soft cry breaks the moment, drifting down from upstairs.

“Eomma? Appa?”

You both freeze before pulling back with identical smiles, your foreheads pressed together.

“Think she had a dream,” Jungkook utters, his voice laced with affection.

“Your turn,” you whisper, nudging him gently.

Your husband groans in mock protest but stands fairly quickly, tossing the blanket aside. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“I think we’re even,” you tease, watching as he heads towards the stairs.

Jungkook pauses halfway up, turning to look back at you with a smile so warm it rivals the firelight. “We’ll pick up this conversation later.”

You laugh softly, pulling the blanket tighter around you as he disappears upstairs. The fire continues its steady crackle, and you lean back into the couch, your heart full as you listen to Jungkook’s soft voice comforting Areum.

It was in moments like this - simple, unassuming, and utterly filled with love - that you realised you’d already found everything you’d ever wanted. And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to grow it a little more.

The cabin is quiet again.

You hear Jungkook’s footsteps, soft, as he makes his way back down the stairs. Areum must have settled quite quickly.

You are still curled up on the couch, the firelight painting your skin with a warm glow as you scroll through TikTok.

Jungkook pauses at the end of the staircase, leaning on the banister for a moment, his eyes fixated on you.

“You’re staring,” you sing, your lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Can’t help it,” he replies, pushing off the banister and crossing the room to sit beside you. “I have the most beautiful wife in the world.”

“You always know what to say,” you taunt, resting your head against his shoulder as he pulls the blanket back over both of you.

His arm comes around you, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. “What can I say? I’m a man in love.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, scrolling through your FYP as the fire crackles softly, a contrast to the snow that continues to fall outside.

Jungkook’s hand never stops moving, his touch soothing and intimate, as if he needed to keep that connection to you at all times.

“You know,” he interrupts the silence eventually, voice deep, “when I first thought about taking you and Areum out here, I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing. It’s so… quiet.”

“Mhm?” You urge him to continue.

“Another part of me felt bad for leaving our family, but…” Jungkook pauses, trying to find the right words.

“It was exactly what we needed,” you finish his sentence for him, softly, nuzzling into his side.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t realise how much I needed it too. Being here with you, with her… it’s like everything else has immediately faded. All that stress, the busyness, it just doesn’t matter anymore.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. “Guk, you have worked so so hard for us. For everything. You deserve this time just as much as we do.”

Jungkook knew in that moment that you were his comforting love. The fort that comes in advance of danger. His protection before the need for that even arises. For you, he was the softest thing in the universe. There was a solace in feeling the goodness of your soul. You always carried a gentle certainty that Jungkook was born to absorb and accept love.

People had always told you, you were lucky to have Jungkook. But Jungkook knew, he was luckier to have you.

He meets your gaze, his dark eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but understood. “You make it all worth it,” he says in simple words.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. His lips linger on yours, slow and tender, as if he were trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that single moment.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “I know I keep bringing it up, but… I really can’t stop thinking about another baby,” he whispers, his voice tinged with both hope and hesitation.

You laughed tenderly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Only because I know how good we’d be at it,” he argues, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “And if I’m being honest, I’m kind of selfish. I want more moments like this. More little hands to hold, more giggles filling the house. And more time with you, building this life together.”

Your heart clench’s at his words, the integrity in his tone making it impossible to tease him this time.

“What if I said yes?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible over the fire’s crackle. A newfound shyness came over you.

Jungkook’s breath hitches, his eyes widening slightly as he pulls back to look at you fully. “You mean it?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’ve been thinking about it too. And you’re right… Areum deserves to have a little partner in crime. And I…” You trail off, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “I think I’d love to see you holding another baby of ours. To see our family grow.”

The smile that spread across Jungkook’s face was brighter than anything you’d seen all night. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispers against your hair.

You cackle, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Jungkook pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You’re incredible, you know that? I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, swatting lightly at his chest. “If anything, I don’t deserve you.”

“We’ll just have to agree that we’re both pretty lucky,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

This time, the kiss is deeper, filled with promises and excitement for the future you’d just agreed to build together. The fire burns low in the hearth, and outside, the snow continues to fall, blanketing the cabin in a hush that seemed to echo the love you shared.

When you finally pull apart, you settle back into his arms, the blanket cocooning you both.

“So… when should we start?” Jungkook asks, his voice light but laced with mischief.

You laugh, swatting at his chest again. “How about we enjoy the rest of this quiet night first?”

“Fair enough,” he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the fire’s glow dims and the snow piled high outside, you close your eyes, the steady rhythm of Jungkook’s heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful slumber. And though the night was quiet, your dreams were filled with the sound of tiny feet and laughter, and the warmth of a love that felt boundless.

It was now 1AM.

The two of you were awake again.

The cabin was silent save for the soft crackle of the flames. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in the same blanket that had been your haven all evening, Jungkook’s arm draped lazily across your shoulders.

His fingers trailed absent patterns along your arm, the touch light but deliberate, sending tiny shivers over your skin. You lean further into him, sighing in contentment as your head rests against his chest.

“I love this,” you say softly, the words barely audible over the quiet.

“This?” he questions, his voice low and warm.

“Us,” you clarify, tilting your head to look up at him. “This moment. It feels… perfect.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk into a small, almost boyish smile as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “It’s because we are perfect,” he teases, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity.

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. “Confident?”

“Always,” he replies, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger against your cheek, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

The mood shifts subtly but unmistakably.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, his fingers grazing your jaw before settling at the nape of your neck. He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, his other hand slipping around your waist to pull you inevitably closer.

The blanket falls slightly as you shift to become more comfortable in your husband’s embrace. Your hands find their way to Jungkook’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. He groans softly against your plush lips, his fingers tightening their hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss further.

Kissing Jungkook always felt so poetic. In the emotions of his kisses, you could understand a language so passionate, it transcended the works of the greatest poets combined.

When your husband finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing slightly uneven. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admits, his voice husky and low.

“Thinking about what?” you ask, though the heat in his gaze is leaving very little room for doubt.

Jungkook grins, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “About how much I want you.” He kisses your forehead.

“About how much I love you.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“And…” He pauses, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “About how nice it would be to give Areum a little sibling.” Jungkook leans forward to capture your lips again, but you swiftly pull him back by his luscious brown tresses.

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. “Jungkook!” you laugh, swatting lightly at his chest, your cheeks warming at the suggestion.

“What?” he asks innocently, though his grin only widens. “I’m just reminding you that you said yes.”

“I-“

He cut you off with another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate. More urgent.

And when he pulls back, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe I can convince you tonight.”

Your heart races at the low, teasing tone of his voice. His hand slips beneath the hem of your sweater, his touch warm against your skin as he traces light patterns along your back.

“You’re crazy,” you whine, though your voice lacked any real protest.

Jungkook chuckles, his breath hot against your neck. “Only because I know how amazing we are together. And because I love the idea of us growing our little family.”

The sincerity in his words melts any resistance you might have had, and you find yourself leaning into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“You wanna start trying already?” you ask softly, your lips brushing against his.

Jungkook pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with excitement and love. “Well, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

You laugh, your heart full as you let him guide you closer, his lips capturing yours once again. The fire burns low, its warmth nothing compared to the heat between the two of you.

“Let’s head upstairs,” Jungkook says as he pulls away. “I want to do this properly.”

You eyes soften as you nod. Preparing yourself for the night to stretch on, knowing it will be filled with whispered promises of love and … filth.

The bedroom is dimly lit, the only light coming from the crackling fire in the hearth and the glow of the Christmas lights strung around the bed. The air is warm, thanks to the fireplace, and is scented with the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon.

Jungkook sets you down on the ground gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he steps back to admire you. Your red sweater and matching skirt make you look like a holiday gift, and he couldn’t wait to unwrap you.

“Take it off,” he commands, voice calm yet husky. “Slowly.”

Your cheeks warm, but you obey, your hands moving to the hem of your sweater. You peel it off inch by inch, revealing the lacy black bra underneath.

The universe was on your side.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he watches you. When you finally toss the sweater aside, his hands are on you again, thumbs brushing over the lace before slipping beneath it to cup your breasts.

“You look beautiful,” he declares, voice low yet you are still able to sense that it is thick with emotion.

A smile tugs at your lips as you glance up at him. Jungkook moves closer, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a velvety caress that makes your skin prickle with heat.

You laugh softly, leaning into him. “It feels like our first time all over again,” you say, heart racing.

“Does it?” he asks, although you know he isn’t looking for an answer.

The air between you and your husband is thick.

Thick with anticipation.

The low flicker of the fire casts a light shadow across his features as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world. One hand rests on your hip, his grip firm yet gentle, as he thumbs at the band of your lacy underwear. The other is wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he’s scared you’re about to get away.

You gaze at one another with eyes full of love.

Jungkook is a drug. Your drug. One touch from him and the intoxication is instant. It always has been.

This man could tell you to do anything, absolutely anything, and that is exactly what you would do. His gaze, his scent, his everything sends you into a heady trance.

You guide his digits to your centre, your sticky core waiting for him. Jungkook rubs your soaked lacy underwear, groaning deeply as he takes in your wetness.

“And I thought it was just me who was excited,” he whispers in an indulging tone, voice rich with lust as he draws you closer with his free hand, lips finding yours. “Look at you, angel, you’re fucking drenched.”

You respond by pulling him closer by dark tendrils, capturing his lips against yours. The kiss starts slow, tender, but it doesn’t take long for the heat to intensify.

Jungkook’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, angling your face as his lips move against yours, each kiss growing deeper, hungrier. Your fingers tangle in his soft strands as you tug gently, earning another low groan from your husband, vibrating against your mouth.

“Jungkook…” you whine between kisses, your body starting to need more.

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on your waist, lifting you effortlessly like you weigh absolutely nothing. Jungkook carries you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours, and when your back hits the mattress, the world tilts slightly.

You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. And then? Then Jungkook is all business.

Pulling your underwear off, he begins by kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always inching just a little higher than the kisses he plants.

Your back arches in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. And as he does, your head rocks against the fluffy pillow, the first moan escaping your lips.

Jungkook hovers above you, one knee pressing into the bed. His dark hair falls forward, brushing against your skin as he leans in, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jawline and then lower, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your neck before pulling back slightly.

The mattress dips beneath his weight as he shifts, his free hand bracing beside your head. You feel the tension in his body - the strength in his arms as he hovers above you, the control in every deliberate movement - and it’s intoxicating.

Your hands roam down his back, tracing the lean muscles. The firelight casts golden shadows across his bare chest, highlighting every dip and curve, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips brushing yours as he teases, “See something you like?”

You roll your eyes, but your laughter catches in your throat as his mouth claims yours again. The kiss is hotter, slower, more deliberate, pulling you further under his spell. His hands explore every inch of you, mapping your body as though he’s determined to remember every detail, his touch setting your nerves alight.

“You’re irresistible,” Jungkook groans, the sound itself sending you into a deep spiral.

He bends down, his mouth capturing one nipple through the fabric, sucking gently until you arch into him, another moan escaping your lips, louder this time. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive peak.

Arching into him, you massage his scalp and moan pleasurably as he prods at your nipple with his scandalous tongue. He fondles your other breast, kneading it which has you sighing out in bliss.

“Oh fuck, I love your tongue,” you whine gratifyingly whilst he continues his soft assault on your breast, sucking and tugging at your nipples lewdly. Your fingers inch further into his hair when you feel him jut his tongue out, licking around the soft area.

Jungkook moves to place kisses between the valley of your breasts, making his way further down your sexy body, still fondling your breasts delightly. You arch further into him, half-lidded gaze peering down at him, massaging his scalp whilst he perfectly nips at your smooth skin, ascending you to cloud nine.

Sighing out in sheer ecstasy, you tug Jungkook closer to you. His hand canvases down your body, cupping your soaked sex in his palm.

You let out a scandalised gasp, gut filling with heat.

“Always so fucking wet, princess,” Jungkook groans as he glides his two fingers through your tight cunt. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, breathing heavily and Jungkook revels in each sultry sound that leaves your pretty mouth.

“J-just for you,” you manage to whimper out as his fingers skim around your battered mound. Jungkook begins to push your legs apart and releases a satisfied hum when he sees how soaked your cunt is for him.

Jungkook pulls back, winking at you before moving forward to kiss down your body. To where you need him most. His lips adorn every inch of your body and your core ignites when you feel him reach closer to your already naked sex.

Jungkook’s eyes locking onto yours as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The garment falls, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. His hands roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip, while his lips replaced his fingers, kissing and nibbling along your collarbone, your shoulders, your throat.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin, his voice vibrating through you. “All mine.”

You shudder from the cold, now completely naked, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he hovers above you. His fingers trail down your stomach, stopping just above where you need him most. He glances up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief before his fingers dipped lower, sliding through your folds.

“So wet for me,” he groans, voice dripping with possessiveness. He circles your clit once, twice, before delving inside you, his fingers thrusting deep as he continues to stroke your most sensitive spot.

Jungkook’s thumb was gentle yet insistent as he traced lazy circles around your clit, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You lay back against the plush pillows, your breath hitching as he leans over you, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. His lips brushes against your ear, his voice low and husky as he whispers, “Everyone will see you swollen and know I’ve fucked you.”

You moan, unable to form words as his fingers dip inside you, teasingly slow at first.

Jungkook watches your face intently, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you arching off the bed. “You’re so hot,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. “So ready to be bred.”

His fingers move faster now, scissoring inside you while his mouth trailed kisses along your jawline. “Tell me,” he demands, his tone commanding yet laced with tenderness. “Tell me how much you want this.”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hips instinctively meeting his hand. “I want… I want you so bad.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Not just me,” he corrected, his voice growing deeper. “You want our baby. Tell me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as the weight of his words settles over you. “I do,” you admit, voice trembling. “I want - oh, God ; I want everything with you.”

Jungkook’s eyes are coloured with a shade of satisfaction, as he adds in another one of his delicious fingers, satiating your ache for more.

You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure seeps through you. Jungkook’s free hand moves to your plump ass, squeezing roughly as his fingers pick up speed, plunging in and out of you with increasing urgency.

“Tell me,” he demands, his voice gruff. "Tell me who’s got you soaked."

“You,” you croon, your voice breaking. “I’m wet for you.”

At your words, he stands, lifting you once again and placing you on the edge of the mattress. His fingers leave your aching core, and you only hope it is replaced by his mouth, the image of his tongue lapping at you with fervor making you shudder.

You cry out his name, your back arching as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Jungkook moves his head in front of your cunt, breathing against it deeply, knowing the sensation of his hot breath would spur you on further.

And it certainly does.

You jerk rapidly as Jungkook places a kiss to your clit and your insides constrict, anticipating his next ministration.

“Can I eat you out?,” Jungkook huskily asks. He knows how tired you must be, so he ensures he’s safe to go ahead. Your chest swells with butterflies, in awe of how caring your husband is.

You move forward and cup his cheek, urging him to look towards you. You smile at him brightly, nodding your head and place a quick peck against his swollen lips.

Jungkook is quick to get back in position, paying attention to your leaking cunt again. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, letting them rest there daintily. You lean back, palms planted on the mattress beneath you as you savour the view before you.

Your sexy husband stands before you with his exposed, tanned and Apollo-sculpted body ready to devour you whole. Jungkook breathes against your folds and you quiver with arousal. His hands massage the inside of your thighs, calming your anticipation.

“My wife’s so pretty,” he whispers before moving to press a gentle kiss on your clit. You shudder at the sensitivity, bucking your hips into his face, yearning for more.

You run your fingers through his dark tresses, tightening your grip on his scalp. “Jungkook, pleasee,” you whine, arching into him more in the hopes that he’ll provide you with some form of relief.

“Patience baby,” Jungkook murmurs before jutting out the tip of his tongue and lightly tracing your nether lips. You squirm, moaning his name shamelessly and uttering soft pleas as you mentally pine for more contact from his skillful tongue. Jungkook feels more turned on as he hears you become more needy despite him not having done very much.

“I’ve got you, princess,” he growls before licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He latches onto your quivering cunt, making out with it and sucking on your labia. Jungkook buries himself further as he gathers your slickness on his tongue. You mewl at the euphoric sensation his tongue supplies and he provides you with no mercy as he eats you up with his masterful tongue.

Bucking your hips closer to his face, you wordlessly beg for more and Jungkook abides almost immediately, lapping at your folds like a starved man. He flattens his tongue against your cunt, generously sucking on the pulsing bud. Jungkook groans at the sweet flavour of your juices that has you reeling for more.

He repeatedly licks up your slit shamelessly, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his own neck with no care in the world. He basks in the mess between your legs, chest swelling with pride as he realises it’s all for him. Only him.

“Fuck,” he moans into your cunt, “your pussy always tastes so good. Fucking missed this,” he says as if he hadn’t woken you up by eating you out this morning.

His large, tattooed hands fail to stay still. They move from holding your thighs apart to having a tight grip on your ass, pulling you further into him.

“L-love seeing your face between my thighs,” you manage to voice weakly.

“I know you do,” Jungkook replies whilst bringing his thumb to rub against your aching clit. You rut your hips in his face, head falling back as the pleasure washes over you.

“Jungkoook, fuckk.”

He buries himself closer into your pulsing folds, nose burrowed deep within. Your hips develop a mind of their own and you begin to grind against his face, practically riding it. Jungkook hums satisfyingly as he moves his hands to rest on your ass again. He probes you forward and rocks your hips back and forth against his face making you grab a fistful of his hair, earning a slight hiss from him.

His hooded eyes meet your own and you send a lazy smirk his way as you rut your hips against his face. Your wetness from riding his nose, chin and tongue glistens on his skin which somehow turns you on more.

“Ahh shit,” you cry out, internally thanking the Heavens above that your cabin is located in a secluded area. You only hope Areum doesn’t wake up.

Whilst you continue to ride his face, Jungkook licks up and around your folds ravenously and his fingers bore into the meat of your ass.

He angles himself better and secures his lips down around your mound, dragging his tongue around until he latches onto your sensitive clit again. You moan lewdly and lurch when you feel Jungkook press his devious tongue against your throbbing bud.

“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, riding his face at a faster pace and your grip on his hair becoming tighter. Jungkook suckles your clit, tongue running through your folds, providing you with eons of paradisiacal pleasure. He shoves his face deeper into your cunt, violently capturing it with his plush, swollen lips and his grasp on you becomes harder.

You feel him smirk against you before he brings those bunny teeth of his and bites down on your clit. Your body jolts at the impact, but still manages to send hot, orgasmic spikes of arousal through your veins.

“Oh fuck,” you sharply moan, the need to come undone too prominent now.

“Come for me, angel,” he coos at you, hands moving to soothe your lower back. His dulcet voice does it for you and you feel your orgasm wash over you vigorously. Your hips grind against your husband's stupidly handsome face and he laps at your palpitating pussy.

Your mind spins and stomach bubbles as you come down from your high. Jungkook continues his assault, lapping at thecum that stains your cunt before he pulls away. You meet his desperate eyes, shimmering lips and a scandalous grin as he pants harshly.

You beckon him to you eagerly, hands growing taxed as you reach for his sweaty neck and pull him in for an all too chaste kiss. Smothering your mouth with his, you groan as you taste your essence on his enticing lips.

You devour his mouth, nibbling at his plump lower lip.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

You chuckle at him simping over you once again, tugging him closer. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and continue to mouth at him languidly, tongues tangling together.

Jungkook smiles against you, gushing at your sudden boldness. He runs his hand up and down the expanse of your back, gleefully continuing to make out with you.

But he isn’t done yet. When you were teetering on the brink, Jungkook pulls away, standing and stripping off his own clothes in seconds. His cock is hard and throbbing, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around his length.

“Not yet,” he growls, stepping back. Jungkook positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Look at me,” he commands, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m fucking you full of my cum tonight.”

With that, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he claims you, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. Every thrust is deliberate, every movement calculated to bring you both to the edge.

Jungkook’s hands grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, voice ragged. “Always so tight and ready for her husband.”

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his slim waist as you meet every thrust, your bodies moving as one. The tension between you is electric, crackling in the air as you both race toward release.

Then, without warning, Jungkook pulls out, flipping you onto your back and positioning himself between your legs once more. He grabs hold of your hips, lifting you slightly before slamming back into you.

“Ride me,” he demands with his sultry voice.

“Jungkook!” you cry, your hips rising to meet his, your body instinctively obeying his command. You shift your position, your core contracting around him as you take control, riding him with everything you had.

“Jungkook, you fuck me so good.”

“I know baby, I know,” he says, almost condescendingly.

Jungkook’s hands grips your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he guides you with precision. You feel the intensity of his desire in every movement, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Ride your husband’s dick like you mean it.” His voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine.

You obey without hesitation, rising slowly at first, the sensation of him inside you igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce gently with each upward motion, the weight of them reminding you of how close you both are to this shared dream.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours, his dark irises locked onto your gaze as if he can see straight into your soul. There is no doubt that he probably could.

“Faster,” he urges, his hand moving from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to pick up the pace. You comply, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusted to the rhythm.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies colliding, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing softly. Jungkook’s other hand finds your breast, kneading it roughly as his thumb brushed across your nipple, sending electric shocks through your system.

“Do you feel how ready you are for me?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with possessive heat. “Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me.” His words sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you can’t help but moan loudly, your head falling back as you surrender to the sensations.

Jungkook takes advantage of your distracted state, shifting his hold on you and flipping you onto your back once more. His chest pressed against yours, his weight grounding you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. “Tell me you want my baby.”

The intensity of his question catches you off guard, but the truth is already bubbling up from deep within you. “Yes,” you whine, clutching at his shoulders as his thrusts grow more urgent. “I want you, I want this… want us.”

His response is rough, hips snapping forward as he drives into you with renewed vigor. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with arousal.

“So good for me.” He reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in circles that synced perfectly with his movements.

You cry out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Jungkook’s hand moves again, this time slipping lower, two fingers pressing into you alongside his cock. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he notes, voice strained. “So ready to become a mother again.”

The combination of his fingers and his cock was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body lighting up like a firework. You can feel the orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

“Jungkook!” you scream his name, your body convulsing around him as you come, stars bursting behind your closed eyelids.

He doesn’t stop, not even for a second. If anything, his movements become more intense, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. “Stay with me, baby,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. “Don’t let go yet.”

You cling to him, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he continues to pound into you, his fingers still working their magic. “Almost there,” he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his climax. “Almost…”

And then he freezes, his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, his seed spilling into you with an urgency that betrays his desperation to make this moment real. “Mine,” he says roughly, voice breaking as he collapses onto you, his breathing heavy.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, the only sound heard is the rapid beating of your combined hearts.

Jungkook’s lips find yours, kissing you deeply as if sealing the promise they had just made.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with conviction.

“Our family starts here,” Jungkook affirms, caressing your hips softly.

The morning sun crept over the horizon, its golden rays slipping through the cabin’s frosted windows and telling you a story that today will be a perfect day.

You stir first, the soft glow coaxing you from the cocoon of blankets. Jungkook is still fast asleep beside you, his face relaxed in a way that makes your heart swell. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, one arm flung protectively over your waist as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Careful not to wake him, you shift slightly, your gaze falling on the fireplace across the room. The embers had long since died, leaving a bed of ash that glowed faintly in the morning light. Outside, the snow glittered like diamonds, untouched and pristine.

Last night replays in your mind, every whispered word and shared touch lingering like a secret promise. A soft blush warms your cheeks as you rest a hand on your stomach, wondering, hoping.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Jungkook groans beside you, his arm tightening around you as his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, his face slowly breaking into a sleepy smile as he finds you watching him.

“Morning,” he sighs, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning, baby,” you respond, brushing a strand of hair from his face and leaning in to kiss his forehead.

Jungkook leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed again for a brief moment. “You’re glowing,” he says softly, cracking one eye open to peek at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Jungkook pronounces confidently, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch. “Last night…” His voice trails off, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s just say I think we’ve got good odds.”

Your stomach turns at the memory of Jungkook fucking you so intensely. You’d been at it most of the night, Jungkook wanting to try as many positions as possible. Your husband's stamina was as high as the chances of you being pregnant already.

“Confident, are we?” you tease, though your heart is still skipping at the thought.

“With you? Always.”

The two of you lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the promise of what was to come. Eventually, the sound of tiny feet padding down the stairs broke the peaceful quiet.

“Eomma!” Areum’s voice calls out, bright and cheerful.

Jungkook groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “She’s too good at waking up early,” he mumbles, making you laugh. “I thought I might be lucky enough to have you ride me into being fully awake.”

“Come on,” you chuckle, nudging him playfully. “I’ll ride you later.”

With a sigh and a mumble of ‘you better’, Jungkook rolls out of bed, grabbing a pair of fresh boxers from the open suitcase and tossing his hoodie to you.

“Get it on, we don’t need to show her our anatomy just yet.”

You chuckle, quickly slip the hoodie over your head, before padding out to meet Areum, who stands at the bottom of the stairs clutching her favourite stuffed bunny.

“There’s snow everywhere!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement.

“I know, princess,” Jungkook brightly says, scooping her up into his arms. “Maybe after breakfast, we can go outside and build the biggest snowman you’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Areum’s face lit up, her joy infectious. “Bigger than the one at yoonie samchon’s house?”

“Of course,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Ours will be much better.”

That competitive streak will never die.

You watch them with a soft smile, the sight of Jungkook cradling her so naturally makes your heart ache in the best way.

“Eomma, you’ll help too, right?” Areum asks, turning her bright eyes on you as she finally notices your presence.

“Of course,” you warmly respond, reaching out to take her into your arms. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

As the three of you settle into the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes filling the air. A quiet sense of peace lingers and you feel whole.

Jungkook catches your eye over the rim of his coffee mug, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. He didn't say anything, but he didn’t need to. You knew. You always did.

Whatever the future held, whatever new adventures or challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

And maybe, just maybe, there was already a tiny spark of new life waiting to join your little family.

A Quiet Christmas was exactly what you needed.

You reach for your phone, capturing a photo of your husband and Areum scrunching their noses as they laugh at one another.

The photo is quick to make it to your instagram, with a sweet caption that summarises it all.

Our Quiet Christmas.

And there we have it! I hope dad!jk made you feel as cosy as I felt writing this 🦢! Merry Christmas, my loves ; I hope you have a wonderful Christmas 🎄.

Here is my masterlist if you would like to check out my other works <3

↠ Taglist : @iamstilljk @lovingkoalaface @kooeuphoria @jeonsgf-97 @taeskrve @freshmoondragon (names in italics - I was unable to tag)

#bts fics #jungkook fics #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabbles #bts oneshots #bts pwp #jungkook pwp

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killishin · 24 days ago

Text

— ♡ right person at the right time.

PART 05.

pairing: jason todd x reader

category: lots of fluff, angst, he fell first she fell harder kinda trope, sfw, thinking of making this a slow burn but we'll see.

content warning: afab, mention of death (reader's mother), violence here and there, mention of blood, inaccurate medical talk, not proofread

summary: reader's just a normal citizen of Gotham, scrambling to making ends meet. after a fateful encounter, when he saw the reader kick ass and save a life- he can't get them off his mind. and fate just keeps pulling them together, forcing him to do something about it.

a/n: im having a still having a shit week and a writer's block on top of that so i really do not like this chapter. still enjoy :)

wc: 3k

fic masterlist. previous. next

dividers by @cafekitsune

your chai's getting cold but you simply stare at it, pulling at the skin of your lips. you let out an impatient sigh as you looked away, gazing out the window with a furrow in your brow.

he's late.

he had recovered his tarnished reputation at the gala, it had left you wondering about his personality. he did not seem like the type to be that persistent or flirty, but he was both at the gala.

though you're doubting his persistence as the minutes tick by. releasing a disappointed sigh you picked up your now lukewarm tea and sipped on it, and right then, it started pouring hard. it was cloudy already but not to the point to rain so hard.

you groan internally as you lean back in the chair and look at the blank screen, already expecting the raincheck text from him that would further sour your mood. but maybe its for the best, it'd spare you the awkwardness.

"thinking I'd bail out huh?" you jumped in your seat and looked up, instinctively turning your phone away as if caught doing something horrid. your eyes widened further as you took him in, he wasn't all drenched but enough to leave his clothes and hair damp at places. he seems to be short of breath too, huffing quietly while his cheeks seems reddened. quite adorable.

"oh— jason. hi— oh god you're all drenched." you gasped out quietly as you looked him over, not quite meeting his intense gaze. you were about to stand up but he shook his head slightly, pressing on your shoulder to sit back down. your cheeks reddened on their own, then your eyes fell on the tea and guilt found its way in your heart.

he noticed that and chuckled as he waved his hand, "its fine. its my fault for being late. anyways uh- here—" he revealed the hand that had been hiding behind his back, a small bouquet of tulips. the arrangement was a bit haphazard and wet from the rain but they simply looked even more soft and beautiful.

"i ran and it was already pouring hard- so well—" you ceased his apology midway as you took the bouquet with furrowed brows and smile, "you didn't have to."

his eyes paused as they stared at your lips, his lips tugging up in sync to yours before he coughed and moved to sit across you, draping his jacket on the back of the chair.

"i did. otherwise im pretty sure I'd get an earful for being late."

"so this is bribery?"

"your words not mine."

but he really hadn't planned on being late, he was thorough in his selection of the flowers, hoping and praying that whatever he chose brings a smile on your face.

you had planned on being mad at him, maybe ending this little date sooner than decided but his charm was rubbing off on you in all the right ways.

he ruffled his hair to shake out the water before brushing them to make them seem less unruly. which didn't work. you had to stifle a laugh as you bit your lips.

"so can i know why you're—" you looked at your watch before back up at him, "thirty minutes late? the flowers are good enough bribe but I'd like to really know now."

he sighed out and a sheepish smile adorned his lips, his eyes glancing away from yours and finding solace on the drops accumulated on the window.

"before i tell you, i really had not planned on being late—"

"no one ever plans to be late i suppose." you interrupted with an amused smile, watching a big man squirm gives you just another kind of satisfaction.

"yes. yes you're right—"

"unless they're trying to be fashionably late." you bite back a grin at his pointed look, "i wasn't being fashionably late. now would you stop finding my misery hilarious and let me apologise properly?" he begged with a pleading smile and you chuckled before leaning back and nodding.

"right. so, i left my place on time—thirty minutes early even." he began explaining, "i thought it wouldn't be that hard to pick a bouquet. they make it look so easy in the films—"

"you watch romcoms?" you ask with a surprised grin, your brows raised a bit and he raised a brow at you, his lips tugging up, "is that judgement i hear in your voice?"

"no. i mean, i just thought that- well-" now that you have to put it into words it does feel judgemental, "someone like you—" you hadn't even finished your sentence and his brows raised up as he huffed out a chuckle, feigning disbelief.

"someone like me? wow." he shook his head slowly and you rolled your eyes as you gave him a deadpanned stare, though your smile wasn't the least bit deterred, "that is judgement. didn't know you were so..."

you raised a brow, smile turning as playful as his, daring him to continue.

and he thought he could wing this whole date, sail through smooth. he had game, he had flirted and dated— sometimes he didn't even need to— he can do this. yet his confidence dwindled, his cheeks turned reddish like an apple, heart plummeting to his stomach at the mere sight of your smile, at the realisation of its effects. disastrous, so very disastrous and still, he was attracted to it like a moth to a flame.

his mind went blank and his smile suddenly wasn't so smug. "....judgy."

your brows furrowed at his quiet answer and you chuckled, the sight confusing you yet you liked how you affected him. you shook your head and waved your hand, "continue please."

"right so bouquets." he wished he had at least ordered something so he could rather stare at it than face you, but it was inevitable right now, "i took too much time. i just— i didn't know what you would like and i didn't want to simply hand a rose bouquet. that would seem effortless and thoughtless—" he explained quite animatedly, his hands moving around, and your focus divided. in your defense, those are some brilliant hands, solid and sculpted.

but unknown to your thoughts, he mistook the wavering of your smile for displeasure , "—i mean i have nothing against it, of course. sorry do you like roses instead?"

"huh? oh no— no i love tulips!" you blink your eyes as you shook your head, cheeks reddening with embarrassment though you mask it quick, but then his words push through the haze and you realise he took all that mental trouble, just to choose a bouquet. many didn't even bring a bouquet, while he was hoping to get the one you liked.

"thank you." you smiled softly as you leaned in and kept a hand on his, hoping its enough to calm his alarmed mind.

it worked the opposite.

for a spilt second he even forgot the conversation, his eyes snapping to your soft ones resting over his. your hand wasn't necessarily small, yet over his they seemed dwarfed. it endeared him to no end, and he vehemently fought the urge to turn his hand over to engulf yours.

maybe this is what yearning is like, he thought, a simple touch of your hand is enough to make his senses come undone, his sanity go haywire, his soul to greed for more and more, still his mind reminds caution. caution because he doesn't want to corrupt you, you who deserved to be happy.

but he's already stepped in far too deep, what would it matter now to cross another few lines?

and with that, he turns his hand, not yet holding your hand but simply caressing your palm with his finger. your smile falters as it sends a shiver down your spine and he feels it too, and he likes it.

he pushed down the urge to grin and instead continued, "alright good. im glad you liked them." he smiled, so innocent as if he knows nothing about the tremors he's causing in your heart.

your mind's racing, racing so fast. this feels intimate. he's just holding— not even holding your hand— but this is worse! this feels rushed, you barely know the guy and yet his touch doesn't raise any flags in your mind. that gnawing feeling in your gut simply increases, like you know him, to explain why you're so okay with his touch.

his caress turned into a soft scratch and your eyes widened slightly as you looked up at him, only to find him smiling with a brow raised. you realised you didn't reply and instead were staring at your intertwined hands like a fool.

he can't already have put a spell on you. you can't accept that.

"so thirty minutes late? just from bouquet selection?" you cocked your head to the side and withdrew your hand, instead holding it around your cup and taking a big, embarrassing gulp instead of a sip. but the tea had already gone cold. "that still seems a bit much."

"my bike broke down then." he said the first thing that came to his mind, because if you knew him completely you'd know he keeps his bike in top condition, it can never break down.

to his utter misfortune, dick bumped into him, though he has a suspicion it maybe wasn't a coincidence. it took great restraint and patience to dodge dick's questions and teasing glance. he even aimlessly drove around in case dick was on his tail.

that's what took him so much time.

your brows rose up and you leaned in again, your eyes sparkling with curiosity, "you got a bike?" he paused, trying to discern your sudden interest in his bike.

"..yeah. why, you like em?" he asked and you laughed softly with a nod, "yeah. my dad loves bikes, he had a really sweet one. i learned to ride on that bike." you recalled with yearning in your eyes before looking down at your cup as you shrugged, "but its been years now since I've drove a bike."

his eyes sparkled like yours, even brighter since he realised you shared interests with him. conversation was easier after that, it went on for a good hour and you didn't even realise it. the conversation didn't feeling boring, they didn't feel forced or rushed— it felt normal and easy.

there was more than just words though. the lingering gazes, the teasing smile that bordered on something stronger than yearning, stolen touches. sometimes it was the fingers, sometimes his feet brushing against yours or his feet. when he felt particularly bold he kept his knees right there, close enough to touch but not quite. he liked the way your eyes widened slightly each time your legs brushed his, it was adorable how you scrambled to compose yourself. if he didn't already know you he wouldn't know just how affected you are.

you didn't get to know about him much besides his few likes and dislikes, you didn't pry much into his personal life. despite how much you felt like you knew him, you didn't want to push it. it had been the first time in a long time since a date went this well, you didn't want to spoil it.

"i can drop you home." he said and tilted his face in the same way that gets blood rushing to your face, and he knows it, since his smile widens playfully. you shook your head with a hesitant smile, "no i can walk home. i don't want to be a bother—"

"trust me you won't be." he gave you a pointed look before holding the extra helmet towards you and your brows furrowed, "you always carry an extra helmet?"

he hesitates and you smile as you take the helmet, your fingers brushing his, "or were you that confident about the date going so well that I'd agree to be dropped off?"

he was.

"just get on." he pretended to huff as he swung his leg on the bike, your eyes shamelessly staring before you put on your helmet and sit behind him.

"your bike's nice." you said quietly, you just needed to fill the awkward silence as you wondered where to put your hand on, the one thats not holding the bouquet to your chest. you've never been this awkward before and you reckon it has something to do with the butterflies in your stomach.

"i thought you've ridden on a bike before?" he playfully mused as he put on his helmet and your rolled your eyes. "i have, smartass, i just don't wanna make you uncomfortable—"

he grabbed your hands and pulled them around his waist, his own cheek reddening and throat closing up as his heart raced, "not a chance."

he revved the bike to life, the vibrations travelling through your very own body and you smile despite the tension between you both. its been a good while since you've been on one and it feels great. behind a man such as jason is a bonus.

as he drives through the gloomy roads of gotham your eyes linger on them. they dont seem that scary as they do when you're alone, even though the sound of the bike turns a few heads, the attention doesn't make you jumpy or alert.

your hands lingered just above his abs at first, before they gradually settled over his body, feeling the ridges and hard planes of his abs. unintentionally your hand travelled up, you didn't know when it happened and you realised it when you felt his racing heart under your palm. suddenly his hand closed over yours as he stopped the bike at the signal.

"someone's bold." he remarks despite his racing heart and your lips tug upwards, "does your heart always beat that fast when you drop off your date?"

only with you.

"only with you." you didn't expect him to say that, he didn't expect to say it out loud.

"that was corny. sorry."

"no it was adorable. its totally fine."

"you're making fun of me now?"

"and is that gonna be a problem?"

he chuckled as he slightly shook his head, and you felt it shaking your hand, bringing a smile to your lips, "smartass."

"what was that?" but he revved the engine and accelerated suddenly, causing you to yelp as your body is pulled behind for a moment by the inertia.

"show off." you muttered before lightly bumping your helmet with his and he simply smiled.

to your dismay your apartment reached sooner than later, and you got your hands off him reluctantly.

"the ride was nice. thank you for dropping me off." you said softly as you card through your now tangled hair, nose wrinkling as your hair tugged.

"no problem." he murmured, so low you might not have noticed it if you weren't already looking at his lips. he was staring, and so were you. he didn't know what good he did that he could be in your life as jason, but he promised to himself right then and there, that he wasn't going to mess this up.

your hands tightened around the bouquet as your looked away, subtly bringing your hair at the sides of your face so they cover your reddened ears, "have a safe ride home. bye."

he nodded as he watched you turn before his eyes widened, and as always, his hands worked faster than his voice.

"wait!" he had leaned a bit and grabbed your hand, tugging you back slightly causing you to turn around with your brows raised up.

"yeah?"

"you didn't..." he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand as he huffed in frustration, frustration at his own inability to act cool. "second date. is there gonna be one?" he asked, rather grumpily, his brows furrowing as he appears to be less affected than he is.

for a moment you just stared. a man, almost the size of a certain vigilante you know, with a voice like that and a presence so heavy like that, is a grumpy mess. because of you.

and he still hasn't let go of your hand.

you tried stifling your laugh in a poor attempt as you nodded, "I'll text you, jason." you said gently in a playful manner before squeezing his hand.

his downturned lips slowly pulled into a smile as he squeezed your hand back, his hand lingering in the air as you let go. "goodbye."

"bye jason."

the bouquet might have gotten a bit wrinkled and missed a few petals, yet you arranged it delicately in your vase as soon as you stepped in your apartment. your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, your heart hurt from the shock of a date going so well.

maybe you were imagining it, but the flowery scent filled the air of your apartment just minutes into your home, just like he did into your heart.

yet a thought stayed into your mind, was it just your disillusionment or was he built exactly like red hood?

the patrol night was awfully weird for others as the usually snippy and sarcastic jason was in a rather tame mood. he was... happy? it got everyone's brain short circuiting, everyone except dick who had, in fact, followed him to see the cute little date he was on.

for once jason wasn't thinking of ways this could go wrong, he wasn't scared to take the leap of faith, he was simply... living. thats a rare word for a man like him in a profession like that. living is a luxury and you've got him feeling that. there's still a nagging feeling in his mind that rages saying its just the calm before the storm, its gonna end soon, you're gonna leave soon like everyone does— but for once he's strong enough to ignore it.

and that strength increases when he peers inside the window of your living room, despite the fact he hasn't visited as red hood for a good few days, you still sleep on the couch, awaiting him.

with the flowers he gave in the vase beside the couch.

maybe its okay to hope.

reblogs are much appreciated! :)

taglist : @itzmeme @bmyva1entine @sept3mberchild @lightthatgoout @satan-s-ass @deadbeatphobos @starshinegrl @ttdamian @lexi2005 @dontyouthinkitstrange @zhentheraven @justheretochillabitlowkey @nori-is-me @kvzutora @mischief-somehow-managed

im sorry if i missed someone :)

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svt-luna · 9 months ago

Text

𝜗℘ HIM AND I

❛ 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘪'𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘦. 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, "𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦", 𝘪 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪. 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥— 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪. ❜

timeline: 2024

synopsis: In a momentous night filled with cheers, Luna must confront the void of Jeonghan’s absence, finding solace in the echoes of his unwavering support from afar.

wc: 15k

warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of anxiety, cursing, pda, flirting, teasing, texting galore, fluff, fluff, fluff, and more tooth-rotting fluff, prepared to be sick of them

surprise!! i simply couldn’t help myself after seeing my baby in the concert yesterday!! this reminded me of a few anon requests i had a few weeks ago (request 1) & (request 2). there are a couple of scenes here as well which were requested by you lovely humans and i decided to do them because of how excited i was. i hope you guys enjoy this even though it’s a little rushed.

also a little fun fact: i accidentally deleted this the second i finished it 💀 thankfully i had saved it in my google docs… almost had a mental breakdown. so please enjoy my blood, sweat, and tears 🤍

╰ ��ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Luna and Jeonghan.

Jeonghan and Luna.

It’s always been the two of them together.

Since the very first day they met in that green-colored practice room at PLEDIS, they were like two peas in a pod.

The moment Luna walked in, feeling the weight of both excitement and uncertainty, Jeonghan was the first to approach her. No hesitation, no judgment— just a warm smile and a hand stretched out in welcome.

From that point on, they were inseparable.

Jeonghan, with his easygoing charm, and Luna, who had initially been more guarded, found a natural rhythm together. He was her first real friend at PLEDIS, and because of that, Luna quickly became his shadow. She followed him everywhere, always listened to him, and valued his opinion above anyone else’s.

Even before asking the others, it was always Jeonghan’s thoughts that mattered the most to her.

Jeonghan was the first to notice every little shift in her mood. He knew when something was bothering her just by a subtle change in her expression. A slight furrow of her brow, a distant look in her eyes— Jeonghan saw it all.

And it worked both ways.

Luna could read Jeonghan like a book, noticing the moments when he was tired, frustrated, or simply needed a break, even when no one else could tell.

They shared an unspoken understanding, a quiet connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

But it was during Luna’s first monthly evaluation at PLEDIS that their bond solidified into something deeper. The pressure had been mounting ever since she joined. Everyone knew her as the former YG trainee, the one they called ‘The Ace’.

Other trainees whispered about her in the hallways, speculating about her skills, her future, and whether she could live up to the hype. She was terrified, though she would never show it.

Luna stood there, her posture rigid, her expression stoic, but Jeonghan saw right through her.

He knew her mind was running in circles, knew that she was silently carrying the weight of everyone’s expectations.

Right before her turn came up, he pulled her aside, just out of view from the others. Without a word, he placed his forehead gently against hers. Luna’s eyes fluttered closed, and instantly, the world around them began to fade away. It was just the two of them, their breaths slowly falling into sync. She could feel Jeonghan’s steady breathing against her, and with each inhale, her racing heart began to slow.

“Breathe,” Jeonghan whispered softly, his voice calming and sure. “It’s just you and me.”

Luna’s lips parted as she repeated, her eyes still closed, “Just you and me.”

Jeonghan stayed like that for a moment longer, watching her closely, his forehead still pressed against hers. He saw the tension slowly melt from her face, saw her shoulders relax, and he knew she was ready.

He gave her a few seconds to breathe before he finished with one final phrase: “Nothing else.”

And then, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

From that day on, this simple but powerful ritual became their anchor.

Every time Luna faced a challenge— whether it was another monthly evaluation, their first nerve-wracking showcase, their debut stage, or even the countless music show performances that followed— Jeonghan was there.

Always.

Every single time.

And every time, without fail, their routine remained the same.

Foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, their breathing in sync.

“Breathe. It’s just you and me,” Jeonghan would say.

“Just you and me,” Luna would repeat.

And finally, Jeonghan would whisper, “Nothing else,” before placing that same gentle kiss on her forehead.

It became their unbreakable tradition, a constant in the whirlwind of their careers.

Every fan meeting, every concert, whether they were surrounded by thousands of screaming fans or in the quiet of a backstage room, they found those few moments for each other.

In their little bubble, it was always just them.

No matter how loud the world outside got, no matter the pressure or the expectations, when their foreheads touched and their breaths aligned, everything else faded away.

Nothing else mattered but each other.

Jeonghan and Luna had always found a way to stick to their ritual, no matter the circumstance.

There were times when Jeonghan wasn’t there with her before a performance, like when he had his elbow injury or when needed surgery for his ankle. He had been forced to sit out, recovering on the sidelines, watching as Luna and the rest of the members continued performing without him. And then there were moments when Luna wasn’t there either— laid up in bed, sick, forced to watch her team from a distance as they carried on without her.

Yet, even then, it didn’t matter.

They always found a way to connect, a way to anchor themselves in their shared tradition.

They would message each other, without fail, right before going on stage, sending the same words and phrases that had become their pre-show mantra.

Jeonghan’s simple, reassuring words would flash on her screen: Breathe. It’s just you and me.

And Luna would respond, without hesitation: Just you and me.

Jeonghan would finish with the final, comforting line: Nothing else.

It was never the same as having him physically beside her, but it was enough to ground her, enough to carry her through those moments of loneliness and anxiety.

Now, sitting backstage a few hours before the start of SEVENTEEN’s ‘Right Here’ tour in Goyang, Luna felt the familiar nerves bubbling up. They were kicking things off at the Goyang Stadium, a massive venue filled with excited fans waiting to see them.

But this time, it was different.

This time, Jeonghan wasn’t recovering from an injury.

He wasn’t at home, sick, waiting for the next chance to rejoin them on stage.

This time, Jeonghan was gone for what would feel like an eternity— two long years of military service.

As Luna sat in the makeup chair, her hair being carefully curled and styled, her makeup artist putting the finishing touches on her eyeliner, all she could focus on was the reflection staring back at her in the mirror.

Her face was dolled up, her hair perfectly styled, but none of it seemed to matter. Her eyes kept drifting back to her own reflection, searching for something to latch onto, something to calm the anxious storm brewing inside her chest.

This time, things were really changing.

She had come to terms with it over the last few years— the fact that Jeonghan would be gone and that after him, the rest of the members, aside from the foreign members and Seungcheol, would eventually follow.

The inevitability of it all had weighed on her, but she knew it had to happen.

Luna and Jeonghan had talked about it endlessly in the days leading up to his enlistment, late-night conversations filled with reassurances and reminders that this was something every man in Korea had to face.

Even on the day he left, Jeonghan had made it clear— he didn’t want her to be sad without him. That’s what he’d emphasized most. “Smile for me, yeah? You can cry, baby, but don’t spend the next two years crying about it. I’ll still be here. You’ll still see me.” he had said, a teasing grin on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

But Luna knew better.

She knew how much he hated the thought of leaving her, even if he didn’t say it outright.

She was trying— really.

Really trying to see the bright side.

After all, Jeonghan hadn’t enlisted as a regular soldier. Because of his injury, he would be serving as a social worker instead, meaning he wouldn’t be stuck in the grueling life of a combat soldier. But even so, he still had to complete basic training.

He still had to endure those few weeks of separation. Almost two weeks had passed since and it was slowly driving Luna mad.

The last few months had been an emotional whirlwind, a rollercoaster she was still trying to process.

From headlining at Lollapalooza in Berlin to Jeonghan proposing to her the day before the festival, to their last date just days before his enlistment, and then, of course, being caught by the media.

Their five-year relationship and engagement were splashed across the headlines, their private lives exposed for all to see. The mixed reactions from fans and the public alike were something Luna had expected, but it was still exhausting.

And then, Jeonghan had left.

Just like that.

Officially inactive for two years— the two weeks of basic training already felt like an eternity.

And now, here she was, on the first day of their tour, her emotions on overdrive. The excitement of being on stage again, mixed with the crushing weight of Jeonghan’s absence, made her heart feel like it was caught in a tug-of-war.

She needed him here with her.

She needed his warmth, his comfort, his stupid little quips that always managed to pull a smile out of her, no matter how stressed she was.

As the team continued curling her hair, adjusting the strands to perfection, and applying the final touches to her makeup, Luna closed her eyes, trying to block out the bustling chaos of the dressing room. She could hear the other members around her, each one doing their own pre-show rituals. Some were talking and laughing, others were getting changed, or sitting in the makeup chairs.

It was the usual energy before a concert. But all Luna could hear were her thoughts, the mantra she and Jeonghan had shared for years repeating over and over in her mind.

Breathe. It’s just you and me.

The words echoed in her head as she tried to steady her breathing, to keep herself from spiraling into the anxious pit that had been creeping up on her ever since Jeonghan left.

Just you and me.

She whispered the words to herself, a quiet promise that, no matter how far away he was, he was still with her.

Nothing else.

Luna didn’t even realize her fingers had been fiddling with her rings— a telltale sign of her anxiety. She often did it without thinking, twisting and turning the metal bands around her fingers whenever her nerves got the better of her.

But now, the new addition on her left hand, the oval-shaped diamond engagement ring, caught her eye. Its sparkle under the dressing room lights felt like a beacon, drawing her attention to the very thing that had been on her mind all morning.

Her heart clenched, and for a moment, she felt the overwhelming urge to cry.

Seeing the ring, a symbol of her future with Jeonghan, only made her miss him more. But she fought it back, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

Not today, she reminded herself. Today is a happy day. It’s the opening day of their world tour.

There was no need for tears— at least, not today.

She had promised Jeonghan she wouldn’t cry about it anymore, not about him leaving, not about the empty space beside her.

She was doing this for him, too.

Those thoughts began to ebb away, only to be replaced by a new wave of anxiety.

This would be her first time on stage since the confirmation of their relationship and engagement, and now, more than ever, she wished Jeonghan were there to face it with her. She always looked to him in these moments when the weight of the public eye felt like too much to bear.

But now, he wasn’t here, and the thought of going out there alone made her heartbeat quicken.

Anxiety slithered its way back into her chest, tightening its grip around her lungs.

I hate my mind sometimes, she thought bitterly, her fingers twisting the engagement ring as she tried to steady her breathing.

Luna wanted to be calm, to focus on the excitement of the concert, but her mind kept drifting back to all the pressure, and all the expectations.

She tried to push the thoughts away, inhaling deeply to force her heart to slow down.

Then, a sudden ding broke through the fog of her thoughts.

Her phone, resting on her lap, vibrated softly, bringing her back to reality. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked down at the screen, blinking a few times to adjust.

Her lock screen— a photo of Jeonghan from their trip to Paris last year— made her heart skip a beat. He was posing in that carefree way only he could, the Parisian architecture stood in the background.

The memory brought a small smile to her face, but her heart skipped another beat entirely when she saw the name of the person who had just messaged her.

‘my angel boy🪽’

It was Jeonghan.

Luna almost burst into tears at the sight. Her fingers fumbled to unlock the phone as she hurriedly opened the message, heart pounding in her chest.

One word stared back at her:

Luna could’ve cried right then and there, overwhelmed by how perfectly Jeonghan knew her.

Even when he wasn’t physically there next to her, even when they hadn’t spoken in nearly two weeks, he still knew exactly what she needed to hear.

She didn’t know how she got so lucky, how she had found someone so attuned to her, so aware of her emotions.

How did I get so lucky? she thought, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. How am I this blessed to have him?

Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she typed, a sense of urgency settling in her chest.

She needed reassurance, despite the fact that it was literally his number. She knew it was him, but a part of her needed to hear him say it again, needed to know he was still there with her in some small way.

The reply came almost immediately as if he knew she’d be waiting, breath held.

Luna’s chest tightened at the words, her heart swelling and her throat constricting. If it weren’t for the fact that her makeup artist was just finishing up her eye makeup, she probably would have let the tears spill over. But she blinked them back, biting down on her lip to keep herself steady.

Luna let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since she’d sat down in the makeup chair.

She was so thankful for him, so unbelievably grateful that no matter what, Jeonghan always found a way to be there for her. Even in the middle of his military service, he had still managed to send her exactly what she needed.

He always found a way for her.

And then, a thought entered her mind— one she didn’t want to entertain, but couldn’t help. She wished it were true, wished more than anything that he was here with her, physically present.

Her fingers moved on their own as she typed the words she was afraid to ask but desperately wanted to hear.

The seconds ticked by slowly, agonizingly, as she waited for his reply. Her heart pounded in her chest, hope mingling with dread, until finally, his answer came through:

For a moment, Luna’s heart nearly stopped.

Jeonghan was here.

He was really here.

The overwhelming urge to jump out of her chair and run through the stadium to find him flooded her senses.

She wanted nothing more than to see him, to feel his arms around her, to know that he was there in the audience watching her, supporting her as he always had.

Luna stared at the screen, her heart racing and her fingers trembling slightly over the phone as she typed back to Jeonghan. The soft warmth of his words lingered in her chest like a quiet flame, steadying the swirl of emotions that had been consuming her moments before.

She could almost hear his voice, teasing and soft, comforting her through the miles that stretched between them in her heart, despite knowing he was right there in the audience.

Her lips curled into a smile as her fingers hovered above the keyboard, their playful banter still vivid in her mind.

Her gaze drifted from the phone for a moment, taking in the organized chaos of the dressing room around her. The makeup artists and staff were in their usual whirlwind, preparing for the show, but Luna’s world had narrowed down to that little device in her hands and the man on the other side of the screen.

Luna could practically feel his presence in those words— steady, reassuring like he was holding her hand through the screen.

As the conversation came to a close, Luna found herself taking a deep breath.

The anxiety that had been gnawing at her seemed to ease as Jeonghan’s words echoed in her mind. He had this way of grounding her, making everything seem a little less daunting.

With her heart still pounding but in a much softer rhythm now, she tucked her phone away, letting out a small exhale.

The moment was tender and fleeting, but it was enough. Enough to remind her of why she was here, why she was standing on the precipice of something so grand, and why she wouldn’t let her fears hold her back today.

Because, as Jeonghan had said, it was just them— just Luna and him in this moment, no matter the crowd, no matter the circumstances.

Her gaze returned to the mirror, catching the reflection of the sparkling ring on her finger.

That simple band now held so much meaning.

It wasn’t just a promise of forever; it was a reminder that no matter where life took them, Jeonghan would always find a way to be by her side.

Luna released a long, steady breath, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as she centered herself. She was still buzzing with excitement from the conversation with Jeonghan, her heart racing faster than it had any right to.

But now it was time to focus.

There was a show to do.

Opening night.

Slowly, she stood up from the makeup chair, her muscles loosening as the tension from the past few minutes ebbed away.

Her stylist, Jiwoo, called out her name just as Luna was about to head to her dressing room.

“Jiyeon-ah! Here’s your opening outfit.”

Jiwoo came toward her with the ensemble, a stunning black and white stage outfit designed to captivate under the lights. Luna’s fingers gently brushed against the fabric as Jiwoo handed it to her. The shimmering accents practically glowed under the dressing room lights.

“Wow,” Luna breathed out, her eyes gleaming with appreciation. “Why does it look better now than during the first dress rehearsal? It’s amazing.”

“Only the best for ou stars,” Jiwoo replied with a wink, smiling as she stepped back to admire the outfit Luna was clutching to her chest.

Luna felt a surge of warmth at her stylist’s words. She thanked her quietly before heading off, her mind now completely absorbed in the rhythm of preparation.

She was halfway down the room when she noticed Seungcheol, already dressed in his own stage outfit, leaning casually against the wall, eyes glued to his phone. His head was bobbing slightly to the beat of the music playing in the background, courtesy of Vernon, who had a playlist going to pump everyone up.

A mischievous smile formed on Luna’s lips as she quickened her pace and approached him. Without warning, she lightly punched him in the arm, enough to startle him but far from anything painful.

Seungcheol blinked in surprise, his eyes lifting from his phone to meet hers. “What was that for?” he asked, not angry at all but pouting back at her in mock offense. His expression was so comically disbelieving that it made Luna’s grin widen.

Luna gave him a playful pout of her own, leaning in slightly as she clutched the outfit closer to her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” she asked, her tone teasing but with an underlying warmth.

Her heart still fluttered at the thought of Jeonghan surprising her.

The realization dawned on Seungcheol, and his eyes widened slightly before nodded his head in understanding. “So, he told you already, huh?” He crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in mock scolding, looking down at her like a parent about to lecture their child. “Did he also tell you that he told us not to tell you?” His eyebrow raised as if challenging her, though the soft smile on his lips betrayed any real annoyance.

Luna almost burst out laughing at the way Seungcheol worded his sentence. He really could be so serious sometimes. Still, her pout remained as she nodded in confirmation.

Seungcheol sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Then why did you punch me?”

Luna couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth, her expression softening as she looked up at him. “Because I’m happy, Cheollie,” she replied, her voice almost childlike in its honesty.

The simplicity of the statement, combined with the sincerity behind it, made the moment feel lighter, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Seungcheol’s expression softened too. His stern act melted away as he looked at her, the leader in him always understanding, always protective. “Well, I’m happy that you’re happy,” he said, his tone gentle, filled with affection for his longtime friend.

Luna hummed in grateful acknowledgment, her chest swelling with an overwhelming sense of joy.

If she was fire, Seungcheol’s words had been gasoline, igniting her spirit even further.

She felt more energized than ever, more ready to step onto that stage and give her all.

Without thinking, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a quick kiss on Seungcheol’s cheek. The surprised look on his face made her giggle.

Then, with a renewed sense of excitement, she skipped— yes, literally skipped— down the hallway toward the changing room, her laughter echoing softly as she disappeared around the corner.

The members of SEVENTEEN could feel the shift in the atmosphere almost immediately.

Luna’s energy was palpable, radiating from her as if an invisible weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders.

For weeks now, they had watched her bury herself in work, her usual brightness dimmed by the heavy absence of Jeonghan. Ever since he left for his enlistment, it was as though Luna had lost a piece of herself. She had kept her head down, moving from one task to the next with little time to breathe in between.

Photoshoots, solo events, rehearsals, preparation for this concert —she threw herself into it all.

Even during Fashion Week, where she shone as brightly as any model on the runway, the members knew it wasn’t quite the same. They could see it in the way her smile never quite reached her eyes, how she lingered a little too long in the practice room after hours, working through the choreography over and over as if hoping the physical exhaustion would drown out the emotional strain.

But no matter how much work she piled on, it didn’t fill the void left by Jeonghan.

It wasn’t just her who felt it.

The rest of the group could sense his absence as keenly as she did.

Jeonghan was like the glue that held them all together, always there with a teasing smile or a comforting word, and without him, something essential was missing. It didn’t help that Jun wasn’t around either, caught up in his own projects back in China.

Two out of fourteen of their pillars were gone, and though the group was as close-knit as ever, the hole they left behind was impossible to ignore.

But tonight, as Luna skipped down the hallway, her lightness and joy infecting the air around her, the difference was startling. It was as if the dark cloud that had been hovering over her for weeks had finally broken, letting the sun shine through again.

And everyone noticed.

Seungkwan, who had been warming up his voice nearby, exchanged a glance with Dokyeom, who grinned knowingly. “She’s definitely in a better mood,” Seungkwan murmured, his eyes following Luna as she disappeared around the corner.

“Thank Jeonghan hyung for that,” Dokyeom chuckled softly.

The rest of the members murmured their agreement. They knew how close Luna and Jeonghan were; they had been witnesses to the growth of their relationship, from quiet glances and hidden smiles to the deep bond they shared now.

Watching Luna struggle these past few weeks had been hard on all of them, especially since there was little they could do to ease the ache of missing someone so important.

But tonight, with Jeonghan’s surprise appearance, it was as if a piece of her heart had been restored. Luna practically floated through the corridors, her excitement contagious. The members couldn’t help but feel a surge of their own happiness, relieved that at least for now, Luna’s spirit had been lifted.

They were grateful to Jeonghan for pulling her out of the fog she had been in, if only for a little while.

The concert looming ahead was significant for all of them— opening night for their ‘Right Here’ world tour. A twelve-member performance instead of their usual fourteen. It felt incomplete, yet seeing Luna smiling again was a balm for their own worries.

They might not be able to share the stage with Jeonghan and Jun tonight, but they would carry the spirit of their absent brothers with them.

And for now, it was enough.

The air in the backstage room buzzed with an electric tension, the kind that always hung in the moments before a show.

Luna could feel her heart racing in her chest as she stood in the familiar circle with the rest of SEVENTEEN, their hands together in front of them as they leaned in close. This huddle had become their tradition, a quiet moment of unity before they stepped onto the stage.

It was their anchor, the reminder that no matter how many people screamed their names or how many bright lights shone on them, at the core, it was still the fourteen of them— or in this case, twelve.

Seungcheol, their leader, always took the opportunity to speak in these moments. His voice was calm, but there was a fire beneath it, a quiet strength that reassured all of them. “Let’s give everything we’ve got out there,” he said, his eyes sweeping over the circle, locking briefly on each of them. “Opening night of our world tour, let’s give them a show. For Jeonghan and Jun.”

There was a pause as the weight of his words hung in the air— Jeonghan and Jun.

Their absence was a wound they all felt deeply, but tonight wasn’t about sadness. It was about showing the world their strength, even if incomplete. And for Luna, it was about showing Jeonghan how proud she was, knowing he was somewhere out there watching.

With a deep breath, they all chanted their group cheer, voices blending into one. The sound reverberated through the room, filling Luna’s chest with warmth and grounding her. As the cheer faded, they broke apart, nodding to each other with a shared understanding.

This was it.

Luna’s heart thudded in her chest as she took her position on the platform behind the massive LED screen with the rest of the members. Her palms were slightly sweaty, and she wiped them discreetly against the fabric of her stage outfit.

The seconds ticked by slowly, anticipation building in the air like a coiled spring. She closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath to center herself, repeating the mantra that always ran through her mind before the lights hit her face. She exhaled slowly, feeling the jittery energy settle into something more controlled, more focused.

When her eyes opened again, it was just in time to see the LED screen in front of them begin to part.

The roaring of the crowd outside, though slightly muffled by her in-ear monitor, was deafening. It was like standing at the edge of a storm, the rumble of thousands of voices merging into one wild, electric sound.

The adrenaline that rushed through her veins was immediate, like a shock to her system, awakening every nerve in her body. Luna could feel it pumping in time with the beat of the song, ‘Fear,’ which began to pulse through her ears.

As the screen fully opened, revealing the stage in all its glory. The noise of the crowd swelled even louder, crashing into them like a tidal wave, but the music in her in-ear monitor kept her grounded. She felt the thrum of the bass vibrate through her body, each beat synchronizing with her racing heart.

From the very first note of ‘Fear,’ Luna was on. Her movements were sharp, and precise, every step of the choreography drilled into her muscles through hours of practice.

The adrenaline coursing through her veins made everything feel sharper, more intense— the rush of the performance intoxicating. She was alive in a way that nothing else in the world could make her feel. Every sway of her hips, every lift of her arm, and every spin was executed with flawless precision. The music was in her bones, and the choreography felt like second nature, her body flowing effortlessly from one move to the next.

Luna’s eyes found the cameras, her expression shifting into the sultry, fierce gaze she knew the fans loved. Each camera angle was met with purpose— a glance, a smirk, a fleeting look that would send their fans into a frenzy. She could feel their energy, their excitement feeding into her own, and it made her perform even harder, even better.

The members around her were just as immersed in the performance. They moved as one, the choreography flawless, their presence commanding.

They were SEVENTEEN, a unit, even when parts of them were miles away.

As ‘Fear’ bled into ‘Fearless,’ the energy only amplified. The transitions were seamless, Luna’s voice strong and clear as she hit each note with power. Her voice was steady through her in-ear monitor, and she felt the music vibrate through every fiber of her being.

She lived for this— the lights, the stage, the connection with the audience. There was nothing quite like the feeling of performing, the way the adrenaline and music melded together into one euphoric experience.

With every song, every movement, the crowd grew louder, their energy mixing with her own. She craved it, thrived on it. It fueled her, pushing her to give more, to hit each move harder, to sing with more passion.

By the time ‘Maestro’ started, the third song in their opening set, Luna was fully in the zone. Her body moved on pure muscle memory, her vocals strong as they rang through the arena. She nailed every single move, every single note.

And through it all, she couldn’t help but give a little more, and perform with just a bit more intensity. Because tonight wasn’t just for her.

Tonight, she knew Jeonghan was watching. He was out there somewhere in the sea of fans, his eyes on her, and that knowledge made her push herself to give a hundred and one percent.

This is for you, she thought, her heart swelling with pride and love.

Every move, every note— it’s for you.

As the third song, ‘Maestro,’ came to an electrifying end, Luna and the rest of the members made their way to the front of the stage. The adrenaline still coursing through her veins was a heady mixture of euphoria and exhilaration. She could feel the sweat cooling on her skin beneath the stage lights, the pounding in her chest mirroring the thrumming energy of the arena.

The fans were screaming louder than ever, their voices a roaring tidal wave that seemed to rise and crash over the stage, swallowing the entire stadium in a sea of sound.

The members, still catching their breath from the performance, began to line up. Each of them took turns stepping forward for the opening ment, one after another, introducing themselves as a team and sharing their thoughts with the audience.

Luna stood among them, her eyes sweeping across the ocean of Carats before her. The crowd was vast— thousands of faces, all illuminated by lightsticks glowing in the stadium. It was a breathtaking sight, a reminder of just how far they’d come together.

As the other members took turns speaking, Luna allowed herself a small smile. She could feel the weight of the moment, how special it was to open this tour in Goyang. But there was something more than just excitement for the concert tonight— there was a warmth blooming in her chest, something that had taken root the moment she found out Jeonghan was somewhere in attendance watching.

For the first time in weeks, the emptiness she’d been carrying around wasn’t so heavy anymore.

Her gaze flicked back to the crowd as she waited for her turn to speak, her smile softening as she took it all in. The fans, some waving banners with her name, others dressed in shirts with her image printed on them, were giving all their energy back to her.

It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and she felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. These were the people who had supported her from the beginning, who had stood by her side through every high and low, and tonight was as much for them as it was for her and the members.

But before Luna could fully lose herself in her thoughts, the sound of the fans’ screams hit her ears, sharper and louder than before.

Startled, she blinked and realized her face had just been projected onto the enormous LED screen behind them. Her in-ear monitor had been removed earlier, so she heard the screams in all their full, raw intensity. It echoed through the arena, sending a surge of energy back into her, and she felt a slight flutter of amusement as she noticed the reaction of the crowd.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen this reaction— the mixture of screams and disbelief. She was used to it by now, especially when her face appeared on the big screen, the high-definition clarity often making her look almost surreal as if she had been computer-generated. She had heard the fans joke about it countless times, calling her “too perfect” or “CGI” whenever she appeared like this.

Luna’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, her eyes locking with the camera directly in front of her, playing into the reaction. The screams grew even louder as the fans realized she was looking straight at them, her expression one of playful mischief.

She lifted her mic to her mouth, ready to speak, but before she could even get a word out, another wave of deafening screams erupted, cutting her off completely.

At first, she wasn’t entirely sure why— until her eyes caught the glint of light reflecting off her left hand.

Her engagement ring, the huge diamond glittering under the stage lights, was now visible to everyone as she used that hand to hold up the mic.

Luna couldn’t help but giggle, understanding immediately. Of course, they would react to that. This was the first time anyone had properly seen her wear the ring in public since the engagement news broke, and it was impossible to miss.

She waited patiently for the noise to die down, though her amusement was evident in the small laugh that escaped her lips. She raised her right hand slightly, signaling for the crowd to calm down. “Shh…” she hushed them playfully, the warmth of her tone making it impossible for the fans not to fall in love with her all over again. The stadium quieted, but just barely, the energy still crackling in the air.

“Hi, Carats!” Luna greeted brightly, her voice amplified through the speakers, instantly met with another round of enthusiastic cheers. Her smile widened as she continued, her heart swelling at the overwhelming response. “It’s your Luna.” She paused, letting the cheers wash over her again, feeling the adrenaline kick back into her veins.

“I’m so excited to be here with all of you tonight,” she continued her tone a mix of sincerity and excitement. Her eyes scanned the crowd again, drinking in the sight of all the fans who had come out to support them. “Opening the world tour in Goyang… It feels surreal.” She smiled, the sentiment clear in her voice. The fans responded with more cheers, their excitement palpable.

“I’ve missed you guys so much, and I’m so ready to make this an unforgettable night. Are you ready?”

The stadium erupted once more in response, and Luna’s heart soared. She knew, without a doubt, that this was going to be a night they would all remember for the rest of their lives.

Luna was just about to continue her ment, feeling the excitement of the crowd and the energy radiating from every corner of the arena, when the screams around her suddenly surged to a deafening level.

It was so loud that it sent a jolt through her, the vibration of thousands of voices hitting her like a wave. She blinked, momentarily stunned by the intensity, her lips parting in confusion as she glanced around.

“Why?” she mouthed silently, furrowing her brows as she looked down at the pit directly in front of the stage.

Her eyes scanned the faces of the fans closest to her, searching for any sign of what could be causing the commotion. But all she could see were the fans pointing wildly behind her, their faces alight with excitement and disbelief.

Before Luna could fully process what was happening, the members’ shouts reached her ears.

“Jeonghan-ah!” Seungcheol exclaimed, followed by Seungkwan and Dokyeom who chorused, “Jeonghan hyung!”

“Hyung!” echoed through the speakers, their voices overlapping in a mixture of excitement and joy.

Luna’s heart skipped a beat.

She turned so fast that her hair fanned out behind her, whipping around in the rush. Her eyes immediately flew to the massive LED screen behind her, and there, on the other side of the screen— clear as day— was Jeonghan.

Her Jeonghan.

He was sitting in the VIP box, slightly off to the side, his phone raised in front of him.

Luna’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what he was doing— he had been filming her. From the moment her ment started, Jeonghan had been recording, and even now, his phone was still pointed at her, capturing every second of her on the big screen for all to see.

A huge smile broke out across Luna’s face, uncontrollable and radiant. Her heart swelled, a mix of affection and disbelief flooding her chest.

Despite the face mask covering the lower half of his face, there was no mistaking it— it was him.

His presence was unmistakable, and the way he waved at the camera, greeting the fans with that familiar charm, made it all the more real.

The entire arena seemed to vibrate with excitement as Luna felt her emotions catch up with her. She could barely tear her eyes away from the screen, but when she did, her gaze found him in real life. Her eyes locked onto him, sitting in the VIP box at the top of the stadium, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.

It may sound cliché but she fell in love all over again.

His simple, unwavering presence— here, in the middle of everything— was enough to make her heart race, and the love she felt for him deepened, filling every corner of her being.

Luna brought the mic to her lips, a laugh bubbling up in her throat as she shook her head. Without thinking, she playfully yelled, “Ya! Yoon Jeonghan!” Her voice came out as a half-whine, half-scream, making the members around her burst into laughter.

The fans, already whipped into a frenzy, screamed even louder at her words, the energy reaching a fever pitch. Luna grinned, unable to help herself, her laughter mixing with the cheers. The other members joined in, their amusement clear as they teased her.

“I miss you,” Luna added, her voice soft but clear over the speakers.

And that was it— absolute pandemonium.

The stadium exploded, the screams of the fans echoing through every corner of the arena, drowning out everything else. Luna couldn’t help but laugh again, the sheer magnitude of the moment hitting her all at once.

But it didn’t stop there.

Jeonghan, ever the showman, lifted his phone higher for everyone to see. The camera zoomed in on the LED screen, and the crowd collectively gasped.

Displayed on Jeonghan’s lock screen was a picture of Luna. Not just any picture— one from a date they had taken in Japan a few years ago, one of their private moments now shared with thousands.

The arena went absolutely insane, the noise level so high it almost shook the stage beneath their feet.

Luna’s face flushed bright red, her hand flying to her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment. She turned around quickly, facing the back of the stage, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

The members around her were jumping up and down, laughing so hard they were barely standing still, their teasing relentless.

“Oh my god, Jeonghan hyung is such a romantic!”Seungkwan shouted, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is that from your date?” Joshua teased, nudging Luna playfully.

“Jiyeonie noona is blushing!” Dino called out as he pointed at her making the others laugh even harder.

Luna turned back around, her face still flushed as she dared to peek at the big screen again. Jeonghan was still there, but now he was pointing at the picture on his phone, then at himself, and then he dramatically pointed at his cheek, a playful demand for a kiss.

The crowd went wild, the screams reaching an ear-piercing level as fans caught on to what he was asking for.

“I think he is asking for a kiss,” Seungkwan exclaimed, laughing.

Luna couldn’t help but giggle, her heart racing with a mix of affection and embarrassment. She brought the mic up to her lips, still smiling as she faced Jeonghan’s side at the VIP box. “Alright, alright,” she said playfully, her voice ringing through the stadium.

Then, with exaggerated flair, she blew him a flying kiss, her hand gracefully sending it his way.

The moment her hand dropped, Jeonghan dramatically threw himself back into his seat, clutching his chest as if he had been struck by her kiss.

His playful reaction made the fans go even crazier, and the members around Luna erupted into laughter once again, their teasing and joy filling the stage.

“Look at him, he’s down!” Dokyeom shouted, pretending to fall over in mock imitation of Jeonghan.

“That’s it, he’s been hit!” Hoshi added, cackling.

Luna’s laughter was loud and genuine, her heart full to the brim as she watched Jeonghan’s antics. The fans, the members, and even she herself couldn’t stop laughing.

It was chaos, pure and beautiful chaos, the kind that made nights like these unforgettable.

After the playful chaos with Jeonghan finally settled, the rest of the members resumed their opening ments, their laughter slowly giving way to more composed introductions and heartfelt words for the audience.

Luna, still feeling the lingering warmth from Jeonghan’s surprise, smiled softly to herself as each member took turns speaking. The energy from the fans was infectious, their excitement palpable in the air, and Luna could feel it vibrating through her body as she stood there.

Her heart was full, and despite the adrenaline still pulsing in her veins, a sense of peace settled over her.

As the ments drew to a close, the lights dimmed once more, and the show continued. The familiar rhythm of concert life took over, and the intense but thrilling rush of performing for thousands blended with the organized chaos behind the scenes.

Luna, along with the rest of the members, darted backstage after each set, the heavy weight of sweat-soaked outfits quickly replaced with fresh, intricately designed costumes for the next round of performances. Staff swarmed them, deft hands touching up makeup, fixing stray hairs, and ensuring every detail was perfect for the next stage.

The transitions were fast and seamless, but it was a routine they all knew well. Even though their hearts were pounding from the intensity of the performances, there was an unspoken synchronization between them and the crew that made everything flow smoothly.

Hairdressers would gently direct Luna into place, powdering her face or dabbing at her forehead to control the sweat, while stylists adjusted her new outfit with quick but precise movements, pulling at seams, fastening zippers, and checking accessories.

All of it was part of the dance behind the curtain— a carefully orchestrated chaos that Luna thrived in.

She barely had time to think as they moved from one stage to the next, the brief moments of calm between sets filled with the hurried energy of preparation.

And yet, amidst the rush, Luna found small pockets of time to catch her breath. When there was a moment— perhaps while waiting for the final adjustments to her outfit, or in the seconds before they rushed back onstage— she would glance at her phone.

Jeonghan, ever the dork, had been texting her nonstop from his seat in the VIP box, live-commentating as though he weren’t right there watching the whole thing in person.

His messages were ridiculous but endearing, a constant stream of compliments and observations that made her smile even when she was exhausted.

Between texts about how she nailed a particular move or how amazing she looked in her current outfit, Luna found herself laughing under her breath. Jeonghan’s enthusiasm for her performances, even though he had seen her on stage countless times, never seemed to wane.

His words, no matter how silly or over-the-top, made her feel seen and calm— like she was the only person in the room, even though there were thousands watching her.

As the show progressed, Luna slipped into the rhythm of it all. Each costume change, each song, each interaction with the fans— it all blurred into a heady mixture of excitement, adrenaline, and joy.

But through it all, there was Jeonghan, his presence like a tether grounding her, even from afar. She could feel his eyes on her, even when she wasn’t looking in his direction. And whenever she had a spare moment to breathe backstage, she’d quickly type back a teasing reply, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words.

It was like any other concert in some ways— the fast pace, the never-ending flow of energy— but at the same time, it was different.

There was a lightness in her heart she hadn’t felt since Jeonghan left for his enlistment. His presence here, even just in the audience, brought her comfort in a way that made this concert feel special, as if this night was theirs alone, even in front of thousands.

As the concert reached its halfway mark, the energy in the arena surged once more as the opening notes of ‘Good to Me’ filled the space. The pulsating beat and rhythmic synths set the mood for the song, its sensual yet intense tone capturing the attention of everyone in the stadium.

Luna felt a thrill run through her as she got into position, preparing for her part. This song held a special significance tonight, more so than it ever had before.

This song in particular is about desire, about someone craving the presence and touch of someone else who is always good to them— both emotionally and physically. The lyrics were bold and full of passion, and every time they performed it, it felt like they were laying bare their emotions for all to see.

But tonight, for Luna, those lyrics held an even deeper meaning.

As the first verse unfolded, the members took turns with their lines, their movements synchronized and sharp, every gesture purposeful. The choreography was fluid, with a mix of subtle sensuality and power, perfectly matching the song’s intensity. When it was Luna’s turn to sing, her voice cut through the air, clear and confident.

“‘Cause you, you're my everything, we are a match. Cause you, you're my everyday, you also know it.’”

Her eyes drifted toward the VIP section, where she knew Jeonghan was watching. She sang the lyrics as if they were meant for him and him alone. Her gaze locked on the spot where he sat, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she poured every bit of emotion into the words.

“‘I need you, you need me. Cause you, you already know, everything is you, you.’”

The song spoke of someone whose presence was irresistible, someone who made everything feel right, even when things were difficult. And right now, Luna couldn’t help but direct those words to Jeonghan, who had been her rock, her constant source of support, even though he wasn’t physically by her side these days.

When Jeonghan’s usual part in the song came up, a brief instrumental break building the anticipation, Luna seamlessly took over his lines, her voice rich with emotion as she sang in his place.

“‘You did this once before, only by looking at your eyes I can tell, whatever may happen, I want to know this emotion.’”

She turned fully to where Jeonghan sat, her eyes sparkling under the stage lights as she sang to him, her voice softening slightly as though the thousands of fans didn’t exist at that moment.

It was just her and him.

She could feel the weight of her emotions bubbling up as she sang to him, every word wrapped in the longing she had felt since he left for his enlistment.

The lyrics— about someone being so good to her, about how everything about that person was perfect— took on a whole new meaning now.

It wasn’t just a song anymore; it was her heart speaking to Jeonghan.

As the chorus hit again, the music swelled, and Luna moved back into the choreography, her body syncing with the rest of the members as they danced with precision and grace. The lights flashed in rhythm, and she could hear the deafening screams of the fans, though the sound was muffled by her in-ear monitors. The energy was electric, but amidst the chaos, something unexpected happened.

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face appeared on the massive LED screen behind them, catching both Luna and the other members off guard. The audience roared in response, the sudden sight of him sending a wave of excitement through the arena.

He was watching Luna with that familiar, soft smile in his eyes, his phone held up to capture the moment as if he couldn’t get enough of watching her perform.

Luna’s breath hitched for a split second, but then a smile broke across her face. She couldn’t help but laugh as she continued to sing, her movements a bit more playful now as she pointed toward the screen where Jeonghan’s face loomed above them all. The rest of the members joined in on the fun, laughing and teasing her as they danced and sang around her, clearly enjoying the moment as much as the fans were.

The fans, who were already losing their minds, screamed even louder when they realized Jeonghan was watching his fiancée with such open admiration. Luna playfully rolled her eyes, her heart swelling as she continued to sing and dance, now with a renewed sense of joy.

For a few seconds, it felt like everything in the world was perfect. Jeonghan, despite not being on stage, was still a part of the performance in his own way, and the fact that Luna had been dedicating this song to him all along made it even sweeter. She twirled with the rhythm, her body moving effortlessly through the steps as she threw a playful glance at where Jeonghan sat.

And for that brief moment, as she danced and sang her heart out, Luna felt like the distance between them was nothing. It was as if he were right there with her on stage, sharing the spotlight.

As the final notes of ‘Good to Me’ faded out, Luna couldn’t help but glance once more toward the VIP section, her heart fluttering as she thought of him watching her.

The lights dimmed on stage as the last notes of their set echoed throughout the arena. With a collective breath, the members hurried off the stage, rushing toward the backstage area in their usual post-performance frenzy.

It was the familiar chaos of concerts: stylists, makeup artists, and hair stylists all buzzing around, ready to get them prepped for the next set. Luna felt the residual adrenaline in her veins, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. The fan in front of her chair whirred softly, its cool breeze hitting her flushed face as she sipped from her water bottle.

Her body was still buzzing with energy from their performance, her skin damp from sweat, strands of her hair sticking to her temples. She sat in front of the mirror in her chair, eyes half-closed, her hands limp at her sides as multiple people fussed over her.

One person gently dabbed at her face with a sponge, touching up her makeup, while another tugged at her hair, fixing strands that had come loose during their vigorous dancing. Luna sat still, letting them work, only opening her eyes every now and then to check her reflection, making sure everything was back in place.

Her breathing was finally starting to slow down, the pounding of her heart calming after the rush of the performance. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the vanity in front of her, watching the reflection of her teammates in the mirrors around her as they too got their touch-ups.

The room was alive with activity, the noise of the concert still a faint echo from the stage outside.

But just as she was gathering herself for the next half of the show, a few crew members came in, a noticeable tension in their steps. Luna straightened slightly in her seat as one of them approached Seungcheol, the leader, with a serious expression.

“There’s been a small fire on stage,” the crew member announced, causing the entire room to fall silent. Luna’s stomach dropped, her eyes widening in shock as she quickly glanced at the other members.

Everyone froze for a second, processing what they had just heard.

A fire?

Before any of them could react, the crew member quickly continued, raising his hands to reassure them. “It’s nothing major! Just a light fixture caught fire, but the staff is already handling it.”

Relief washed over the room, but the air still felt tense. Questions were thrown around in rapid succession, the members’ voices overlapping as they expressed their concerns.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Is everything under control?”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Can we still continue the show?”

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

Seungcheol, ever the responsible leader, was busy talking to the staff, his voice low but firm as he tried to get more details.

Luna, though still a little shaken by the news, stood up from her chair, adjusting her sleeves as she walked over to where the rest of the members were gathered. Her concern mirrored theirs, but the crew assured them that the situation was being managed.

“We’ll need to delay the show for a few minutes while we make sure everything is safe before you can continue,” another crew member explained, and Luna could feel the unease in the room settle somewhat.

The staff’s confidence was reassuring, but the worry for the fans still lingered.

Luna stood near the center of the group, her fingers absentmindedly fixing the cuffs of her outfit as they all discussed the situation. “As long as everyone is fine and no one is hurt–” she began, her voice steady despite the worry she felt.

But before she could finish her sentence, something felt… off.

The room grew a little quieter, and she noticed some of the members stifling laughter. Seungkwan was biting his lip, trying not to give anything away, while Minghao’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he watched something— or someone— behind her.

Confused, Luna paused, looking down at her sleeves as she fiddled with the fabric. She didn’t notice the figure that had quietly slipped into the room behind her, moving with the practiced stealth that only one person could pull off.

Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke from beside her, its gentle tone making her heart skip a beat, though she was so used to it, that she didn’t even question it at first.

“Everyone is fine,” the voice said smoothly, almost casually. “The staff are handling it.”

Without even glancing up, Luna nodded, completely absentminded. “That’s good,” she murmured, still focused on adjusting her outfit.

The members erupted into laughter from in front of her, and that’s when it hit her.

Wait… that voice.

Her hands froze mid-adjustment. Slowly, Luna’s eyes widened, and she turned her head to the side, not fully registering what had just happened. But when she finally looked to her left and saw who was standing next to her, she did a double take, her breath catching in her throat.

“Hannie?!”

Jeonghan stood there, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his eyes, his face partially hidden behind a mask but unmistakable to her.

She barely had time to process it before a squeal of delight escaped her lips, and without thinking, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her just as tightly. “You really didn’t notice me until now?” he teased, his voice filled with amusement.

Luna only buried her face into his chest, her heart pounding with a mixture of surprise and overwhelming happiness. “I— how are you—?” she stammered, her voice muffled against him.

He pulled his mask down slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss to the temple of her head, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck gently. “Just wanted to make sure you guys are alright,” he whispered, laughing softly against her hair.

The rest of the members, still watching with wide smiles, couldn’t help but laugh at her delayed reaction.

“We are alright by the way. Thank you for asking!” Seungkwan said sarcastically considering all Jeonghan’s focus was on Luna.

“Seriously, no one’s that used to someone’s voice,” Hoshi added, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Luna pulled back just enough to look up at Jeonghan, still holding onto him as her laughter bubbled out. She swatted at his chest playfully. “You sneak!”

Jeonghan grinned down at her, his arms not letting her go just yet. “You should know by now I love surprising you.”

And despite the chaos of the moment, despite the earlier worry about the fire, Luna couldn’t stop smiling. Being in his arms, surrounded by her members, with the concert still buzzing around them— it was perfect.

Even in the most unexpected of circumstances, with a fire delay and a surprise visit, everything felt right.

Jeonghan stayed with them for what felt like the briefest twenty minutes of Luna’s life, though time itself seemed to stretch and bend while he was by her side.

From the moment he appeared behind her, she felt his presence like an anchor, grounding her amidst the bustle of their delayed concert.

Jeonghan hadn’t let go of her once, keeping her close, his hands never straying far from her skin. The warmth of his touch lingered in every kiss he pressed— soft and tender against her forehead, her temple, the nook of her neck, the curve of her cheek, and even the subtle brush of his lips against her own when the others weren’t watching too closely.

His affection was quiet but ever-present, each kiss a reminder of how much they had missed each other.

It felt like he was memorizing her in those fleeting moments as if they were sneaking time in their usual bubble despite the chaos around them.

When his lips found the back of her hand, her engagement ring cool beneath his touch, Luna’s heart swelled. He had always been tactile with her, but tonight, it felt like every kiss, every touch held extra weight. Each one was a silent acknowledgment of everything they had been through together— of how much they meant to one another, of how much he wished he could be with her on that stage.

The rest of the members let them have their quiet reunion without interruption. They continued chatting with Jeonghan, catching up on things, but they gave the couple their space. Despite being surrounded by people, the world felt small and intimate, just for them.

But twenty minutes was never enough.

Eventually, the crew came back to inform them that everything was under control, and the stage had been cleared. The fire was contained and minor— no one had been hurt, and nothing had escalated.

The relief that washed over Luna was palpable, though it was bittersweet because it meant Jeonghan would have to go back to his seat.

She hadn’t wanted to let him go, but as she watched him flash her a reassuring smile, she knew he would be watching, cheering her on just like before. He pressed one final kiss on her lips, his hand lingering on hers for a brief moment before he slipped out of the room.

The twenty-minute delay had passed like a blink, and though they were slightly behind schedule, none of the members seemed to care. They were just grateful that the situation hadn’t spiraled into something worse.

Once they were cleared to go, the members gathered themselves, adjusting their outfits and shaking off any lingering tension.

The fire was a hiccup, but the show had to go on.

And it did— seamlessly.

As they returned to the stage, the energy from the fans was as vibrant as ever. Jeonghan had taken his seat again, watching from his place in the audience, and Luna couldn’t help but glance in his direction, feeling that familiar spark knowing he was there, watching her. She felt renewed, the anxiety from earlier gone as they launched into their next set.

Song after song, they poured everything they had into their performances. The members danced and sang with such passion, interacting with the fans and throwing themselves into their signature antics.

It wasn’t a SEVENTEEN show without a few hilarious, chaotic moments, and despite the earlier scare, they didn’t hold back. The fans were relieved that everything had been handled, roared with approval, feeding off the energy the group gave.

Of course, there were jokes about the fire.

Some of the members couldn’t resist cracking a few light-hearted comments, saying the fire had only started because their performances were just that hot. Seungkwan, Hoshi, and even Dokyeom threw in their quips, teasing that the stage couldn’t handle their intensity, eliciting more laughter from the crowd.

The fans ate it up, cheering and laughing as the members played off the unexpected situation with ease.

And in the middle of it all, Luna found herself back in her element. The slight delay faded into the background as the show flowed effortlessly from one set to the next. She moved with the music, her voice blending with the others, her body moving in sync with the choreography she knew so well.

Every now and then, she’d sneak another glance toward Jeonghan, catching his gaze even from afar, feeling that unspoken connection between them.

As the night wore on, the setlist began to wind down. They’d gone from high-energy songs to their slower, more emotional tracks, each moment imbued with meaning. The atmosphere in the arena shifted as the fans realized they were nearing the end of the show.

Before they knew it, they were standing on the stage, looking out at the sea of fans, about to perform their final song for the night. Luna’s chest tightened with emotion, a mix of pride and awe at what they had accomplished.

The first night of their world tour was coming to a close, and it had been everything they’d hoped for— despite the unexpected bumps along the way.

As the final notes played, Luna felt the bittersweetness of the moment sink in.

The first day of their tour was over.

But it was only the beginning.

The moment Luna stepped behind the stage, the roar of the crowd still echoed in her ears, but the rush of adrenaline hadn’t yet settled. It thrummed beneath her skin, buzzing like static as their crew and staff cheered loudly, creating a vibrant wall of sound that filled the backstage area.

Members of the team, the staff, and the crew clapped for them, congratulating them on a successful opening night, their faces beaming with pride. Several cameras followed their every move, capturing the behind-the-scenes footage that would later be used for DVDs and special releases for the fans, a memory to be immortalized.

Hoshi and Mingyu were already talking to one of the cameras, playfully waving and making exaggerated poses, their faces red from exertion but their spirits sky-high. The others mingled around, some talking to the crew, others exchanging breathless laughs as they tried to steady their breathing after the intense finale.

But Luna’s mind wasn’t on the cameras, the chaos of the crew, or the noise swirling around them. Her eyes, sharp and singular in their focus, found him immediately.

Jeonghan was standing just beyond the cluster of people, waiting for them— and more specifically, waiting for her.

He had removed his mask, revealing the full brilliance of his smile, and her heart fluttered at the sight. It was the same smile that had always undone her. The same smile that now, five years into their relationship and officially out in the open, still made her feel like she was falling in love all over again.

Luna’s body reacted before her mind fully registered the thought, and before she knew it, she was running. Bolting, really— her legs carrying her with the kind of speed she reserved for the stage, for the most high-energy moments of a performance.

But this? This was pure, uncontainable emotion.

The excitement of seeing him again, of having him waiting for her so openly, so proudly, after everything they’d been through.

She was running toward her home.

And the fans in the nearby seats could see it all.

The backstage area was still partially exposed to the arena, especially the seats that stretched upward, giving some fans a perfect vantage point. As Luna dashed across the back, the fans who could see her immediately erupted into cheers, their voices rising in a frenzy.

Pandemonium broke out as the realization hit that she was running straight into Jeonghan’s arms. The fans screamed, some pulling out their phones, others clutching their chests as they watched the scene unfold like something out of a drama. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the collective gasp of thousands witnessing the moment.

Jeonghan, waiting with that same easy smile, braced himself just as Luna crashed into him. His arms wrapped around her waist with ease, and with a gentle laugh, he lifted her off the ground, spinning her around effortlessly. Luna’s giggle was light and carefree, the kind of sound that made everything else melt away.

It was just him.

Just her.

Just them.

Luna and Jeonghan.

Jeonghan and Luna.

The moment her feet touched the ground, Luna’s hands came up instinctively, cupping his face as if grounding herself in the reality of his presence. She felt the familiar warmth of his skin beneath her palms, the softness of his hair brushing against her fingers, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

But Jeonghan, always one step ahead, beat her to it. He leaned down, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was gentle, unhurried, filled with the quiet certainty of their love.

Despite the madness surrounding them— the cameras, the crew, the fans, and even the members throwing cheeky glances and comments their way— none of it mattered.

In that moment, it was only the two of them.

Every kiss still felt like it held new meaning— like they were discovering parts of each other they hadn’t yet explored, even after all this time.

The fans were screaming louder now, their cheers mixing with the laughter of their members, who were already teasing them for being so openly affectionate. “Scandalous!” Hoshi's voice echoed in the distance, followed by Dino’s exaggerated gasp, and the others quickly joined in with their own jokes. Seungcheol shook his head, a playful smirk pulling at his lips as he tried to keep the group in line.

But neither Luna nor Jeonghan cared.

They had stopped caring about the opinions of others the moment their relationship became public.

After years of hiding, of sneaking around, and stealing moments where they could, this openness felt like freedom.

No more disguises.

No more secrets.

Just them, unashamedly in love in front of everyone who cared to watch.

Jeonghan pulled away slightly, his lips brushing against her forehead, then her temple, as if sealing the moment with small, lingering kisses. Luna’s heart swelled in her chest, a smile tugging at her lips as she rested her head against his chest for a brief second, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

Around them, the world buzzed with excitement, but in his arms, it felt like peace. The cameras kept rolling, capturing every second of the moment, and the fans continued to scream, but none of it mattered.

It was just the two of them, lost in each other, in a love that had weathered time, distance, and now, the scrutiny of the world.

The members laughed louder at the display, throwing more jokes in their direction, but Luna and Jeonghan simply smiled at one another, content in the knowledge that they no longer had anything to hide.

This was their world now, and they were living it fully, unapologetically.

Luna’s bubble of peace with Jeonghan was suddenly burst when Seungkwan’s voice cut through the noise of the backstage area, dripping with exaggerated sarcasm and mock disgust. “We get it, you two love each other, knock it off!”

Jeonghan’s deep, melodic laugh rang out instantly, and Luna couldn’t help but join in, feeling the warmth of their private moment turning into something shared, something lighthearted. The laughter of their teammates blended into the air, creating a symphony of joy around them.

Jeonghan gently parted from her, his hand grazing hers one last time before he turned, arms wide, playfully chasing after Seungkwan with a mischievous grin.

“Seungkwanie,” Jeonghan cooed dramatically, dragging out his name in a sing-song voice, his playful nature in full force.

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as he pretended to scramble away, but it was too late. Jeonghan easily caught up with him, enveloping him in an exaggerated bear hug, both of them stumbling as Jeonghan swayed them from side to side like a father holding a child. Seungkwan groaned in mock suffering but couldn’t stop the smile breaking across his face.

“Why am I always the target of your love?” Seungkwan whined, though his arms returned the hug before half-heartedly trying to push Jeonghan away. “Can’t you just keep your affection for noona?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t dedicate a whole essay for me on Weverse on my birthday,” Jeonghan grinned and ruffled Seungkwan’s hair before finally releasing him, earning a playful shove in return from Seungkwan who pouted, “Shut it.”

“I have so much love to give, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan replied, still laughing.

As the playful banter continued, the group naturally gravitated toward the corridor that led back to their designated waiting room. Conversations and laughter littered the halls, filling the air as they walked, their energy still high from the concert.

It felt like any other day like Jeonghan had never been gone at all, like they hadn’t just gone weeks without his presence on stage or in their daily lives.

Luna found herself walking a few steps behind the group, watching with a smile that spread wide across her face.

It was surreal— Jeonghan, back with them, laughing and joking like no time had passed. For a brief moment, she let herself forget the reality of his military service, letting herself imagine that everything was normal again.

That he had never left and that he would be with them for the rest of the tour.

But as happy as she was to have him back, even if just for tonight, a pang of sadness tugged at her heart.

It wasn’t quite complete. Not without Jun.

She wished he were here with them, completing their chaotic group and filling the room with his quiet but steady presence. With Jeonghan and Jun both gone, it was like a piece of their family was missing. She sighed softly, letting the feeling pass as she reminded herself that Jun would be back soon, too.

It was only a matter of time.

By the time they reached their waiting room, the atmosphere was buzzing with the same energy they carried off the stage.

The room was filled with the familiar sounds of SEVENTEEN— playful banter, teasing remarks, and laughter that echoed off the walls. They were still riding the high of the successful opening night, adrenaline pumping as they began to peel off their performance outfits and transition into their more comfortable clothes.

Some of the members were already seated, pulling off stage shoes with tired groans of relief while others started removing their makeup, faces still flushed from the heat of the stage. The air was thick exhaustion but it was home.

It was the usual post-concert chaos— everyone talking over each other, recounting moments from the show, poking fun at any small mistakes they made during their sets.

Hoshi was standing in front of the mirror, dramatically wiping off his makeup with a makeup wipe. “The energy was insane. I can go another round— I was born for this, you know?” he declared, his voice full of mock drama, earning a round of eye rolls and amused chuckles from the members who are used to Hoshi’s energy.

Luna couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her as she leaned back into her chair, watching the usual antics unfold around her. Even after years together, the energy in the room was always electric post-concert.

No matter how tired they were, there was something about that post-show buzz that brought out the best— and the most ridiculous— parts of them.

Her gaze drifted to Jeonghan, who was now sitting on the arm of one of the couches, his hair slightly tousled from their earlier reunion. He was watching the members with a soft smile on his face, occasionally throwing in a comment here and there, but mostly content to just soak in the atmosphere.

He caught her looking and flashed her a wink, and her heart did a little flip. She smiled back, warmth flooding her chest. Moments like this were what she cherished most— the simplicity of being together, the feeling of family, of belonging.

The noise around her continued, a comforting, chaotic background to her thoughts as she settled back, letting herself enjoy the moment.

This was what she loved— being surrounded by people she cared about, performing with them, and knowing that despite everything, they would always find their way back to each other.

As she sat there, letting the laughter wash over her, she couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful for her members, for their fans, and for moments like this— where everything felt perfect, even if it was just for a little while.

Luna leaned back in her chair, sighing softly with contentment. The concert had gone well, their first night was a success, and even with the unexpected fire, they’d managed to pull through together.

Unbeknownst to her, Jeonghan’s gaze had been fixed on her for several moments now, watching her quietly from his seat. He had a way of seeing her, really seeing her, even when she was lost in her own thoughts. His heart warmed at the sight of her— a mix of strength and softness, glowing in the afterglow of their performance.

Without a word, Jeonghan stood up from his spot, his movements so smooth and silent that no one noticed as he crossed the room toward her. He gently caressed her arm, his touch soft and familiar.

Luna glanced up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sudden closeness. There were no questions in her eyes, just trust. Without needing to say anything, she let him guide her to a more secluded corner of the room, away from the others, away from the bustling noise of post-concert excitement.

Jeonghan turned toward her, a soft smile lighting up his face as he gazed down at her. “Hey,” he said, his voice a warm melody that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Hi,” Luna smiled back, her voice soft, and without hesitation, their hands found each other, fingers naturally intertwining.

The world around them faded, and it was just the two of them again, wrapped in their bubble of comfort and affection.

Jeonghan’s hand rose to her face, gently brushing a few strands of hair away. His fingers lightly traced her cheek as his thumb caressed her skin, his touch tender and careful, as if she were something delicate.

“You did such a good job earlier,” he cooed, his voice low and soothing, the tone that always made her knees feel weak. His fingers continued to brush over her cheek, and then, slowly, he leaned in, pressing soft kisses to the back of her hand, one after the other. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked, his lips now grazing the tips of her fingers, sending little jolts of warmth through her.

Luna felt her breath hitch slightly, the wall behind her suddenly a blessing as it was the only thing keeping her steady.

Jeonghan’s soft, gentle tone— this was her weakness and he knew this. She tried to compose herself, but the way he doted on her, the way he made her feel like she was the center of his universe, made it difficult to remain standing.

“I loved it,” Luna finally managed, her voice a little breathless, eyes locked on his.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued his gentle teasing. “You were amazing out there. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised— you always are.” His thumb brushed against her lower lip, and her heart fluttered in response.

Luna’s lips parted slightly at his touch, her usual assertive demeanor slipping away in the face of his gentle cooing. “Stop, you’re making me blush,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Blushing suits you,” Jeonghan teased, leaning down slightly until his forehead nearly touched hers. His lips ghosted over the tip of her nose as he continued to murmur, “I missed seeing you like this, Nana-ya.”

Luna’s cheeks burned with warmth, and she let out a soft laugh, tilting her head back against the wall. “You’re the only reason why I am like this.”

“Good,” he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. His thumb brushed her cheek again, his other hand lifting her left hand to his lips once more. He kissed each of her fingers, his lips lingering a bit longer this time, his gaze never leaving hers.

She could feel the butterflies swirling in her stomach, her mind spinning under his gaze.

Then, just as naturally as ever, Jeonghan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. It was sleek, the kind that made Luna’s breath catch in her throat. Without a word, he placed it in her hand, his expression soft but serious.

Luna stared at the box for a moment, her heart racing. She pouted up at him, curiosity and a hint of confusion in her eyes. “What is this?” she asked, her voice tinged with wonder.

Jeonghan’s smile softened, his eyes growing tender as he spoke. “I’ll be watching the show again tomorrow but you know I won’t be able to watch every single one, right? I won’t be able to travel outside the country either,” he began, his voice gentle, knowing how sensitive this topic was for her.

Luna’s heart clenched at his words. She knew this reality all too well. He wouldn’t always be with them, with her, during the tour. It was a thought that had lingered in the back of her mind all night.

As she opened the box, her breath caught again. Inside was a delicate gold band bracelet. Simple, elegant, and timeless— just like him. Luna took it out carefully, holding it in her palm, and that’s when she noticed the engraving.

Her heart swelled as she read the words etched into the gold:

Breathe. It’s just you and me. Nothing else.

Jeonghan’s forehead was suddenly pressed against hers, their shared ritual grounding her, just like it always had. He took the bracelet from her hand, slipping it around her left wrist, fastening it carefully as though it were the most precious thing in the world. “This is so you won’t forget our words to each other,” he whispered.

Luna’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked up at him, her lips trembling into a pout. “Hannie…” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t cry,” Jeonghan cooed softly, pulling back just enough to press a tender kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there before he pulled away and lifted the sleeve of his own jacket. “Look,” he said, showing her his own matching bracelet. “We match.”

Luna sniffled and pushed at his chest playfully, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re always the reason for my tears, you know that right?” she huffed, though her smile betrayed her true feelings.

Jeonghan chuckled, his laugh low and rich. “I know,” he teased, “You just love me so much.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile. “When did you even have the time to do this?” she asked, glancing down at the bracelet again, admiring the way the light reflected off the gold.

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he winked at her. “I have all the time in the world when it comes to you.”

Luna let out a scoff of disbelief, a laugh escaping her lips. “You’ve gotten cheesier.”

Jeonghan smirked, his retort quick and cool. “Only for you, pretty girl.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile as she lightly tapped his chest. “You know, I used to think you were all serious and mysterious,” she teased, her voice light and full of amusement. “Turns out, you’re just a huge softie.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his arms winding back around her waist, pulling her closer as he leaned down. “A softie? Is that what I am?” His voice was low, teasing, with that familiar silky tone that always sent a rush of warmth through her. “Well, I’m only like this because I have you to be soft for.”

Luna felt her cheeks heat up again, but she wasn’t about to let him win that easily. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

Jeonghan leaned in even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “And you’re lucky I can’t resist you.” He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I mean, look at you,” he continued, his voice soft and tender now. “How could I not be completely wrapped around your finger? You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Luna’s heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone making her pulse quicken. She tried to compose herself, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I think I have some idea,” she replied, her voice softening as she met his gaze head-on.

Jeonghan laughed, that light, airy sound that always made her chest feel lighter. “You think?” he teased, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “You know you’re everything to me, right?”

Luna’s breath caught at the sudden tenderness in his words. She could feel her heart swelling in her chest, the emotion almost overwhelming. “Han…” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

He gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek in the softest of touches. “No, really,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t say it enough, but you’re my everything, Jiyeon. No matter where I am, or what’s going on, you’re always on my mind.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally, her lips. It was soft, gentle, full of love and warmth. “You make everything better.”

Luna closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips on hers, the warmth of his touch, the security of his presence. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” she murmured when they pulled apart. Her voice was quiet, but filled with so much emotion it nearly cracked. “Especially now… with everything going on.”

Jeonghan nodded, understanding. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment. “I know it’s been hard. But I promise you, we’re going to get through it. Even if I can’t be with you every step of the way, I’m still with you.” He took her hand again, lifting it to his lips and kissing her knuckles one by one. “Always.”

Luna’s heart swelled, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, though she blinked them away. “You’re too good to me,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of love.

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. “I just want to take care of you, that’s all.” He kissed the inside of her wrist, then the bracelet, before looking back up at her. “And I will. Even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be with you. This…” He gestured to the bracelet, then to his matching one. “This is just a reminder. You and me. Nothing else.”

“Just us. Nothing else.” Luna stared at him, her heart so full she thought it might burst. She couldn’t hold back anymore— couldn’t stop the overwhelming wave of love that washed over her. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, burying her face in his chest. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt. “So much.”

Jeonghan’s arms wrapped around her in return, his embrace warm and steady, his lips pressing into her hair. “I love you too, my pretty moon,” he murmured against her, his voice soft and filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her, his hand cupping her face again. “More than anything.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble of love and warmth. Jeonghan leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips, slow and full of meaning. When they finally pulled away, Luna couldn’t help the small, content smile that spread across her face.

Jeonghan grinned, his thumb brushing her cheek again. “You’re mine, you know that?” he teased, though there was a soft sincerity behind his words.

Luna laughed softly, her fingers tightening around his. “I’ve always been yours.”

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her one more time, a smile still on his lips. “And I’ll always be yours.”

He held Luna’s hands tighter, his gaze steady and full of love. “When I finish my service,” he whispered, his voice soft but resolute, “I’m going to marry you. No more waiting, no more delays. I promise.”

Luna’s breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling at his words. She smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered back, “I’ll be waiting, Hannie. Always.”

At that moment, it was just the two of them again.

Just like Luna’s first monthly evaluation as a trainee… it was just them.

Wrapped up in their little world, their bubble, where nothing else mattered.

It felt as if time had stopped, and for that brief space in time, there was no concert, no cameras, no members.

Luna and Jeonghan.

Jeonghan and Luna.

It’s always been the two of them together.

Just them, as it had always been, and as it always would be.

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