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ruskaroma · 1 year

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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name.

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present.

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow.

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows.

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again.

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her.

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him.

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him.

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her.

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!”

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it.

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women.

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep.

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls.

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off.

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #john wick x you #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #john wick smut #ochl #my works

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 5 months

Text

The Beast Wants to Tempt the Little Rabbit (Epilogue)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. Not proofread.

Matias: "Don't move, or else I won't be able to get it off."

(Get off what?)

His fingers tickled my cheek for a moment before moving away.

Matias: "I finally got it."

Emma: "Was there something on me?"

Matias: "Just a hair."

Emma: "I didn't notice, thank you."

(Maybe it was his way of not interfering with my mysterious rule, just because I mentioned I have to space out once a day.)

(I really think he's a kind person. He even politely goes along with my lies.)

------------Flashback-----------

Matias: "A crime is a crime. Your excuses hold no meaning."

Matias: "If you still wish to make excuses, do so in court."

Matias: "Whatever the reason, the law is something that must never be broken."

Matias: "Criminals have no right to beg for mercy."

---------Flashback Ends--------

I became a little curious.

Emma: "Could you teach me about the law now?"

I placed my hand on the law book, and he nodded.

Matias: "Sure. As a token of my gratitude to you."

Emma: "Then, may I ask one thing?"

Emma: "Is there no leniency in Acroite's laws?"

(This has been bothering me for a while now.)

In Rhodolite, judgments often consider the circumstances of the offender.

(But judging from his attitude earlier, it seems like Acroite...)

Matias: "I can't say there's none at all."

Matias: "There used to be, but now, as a matter of principle, there isn't. Regardless of the circumstances, we uphold equality under the law."

(Just as I thought.)

Matias: "Strict laws have contributed to making Acroite the safest country on the continent."

Matias: "For example, crimes like fraud rarely occur because everyone in the country knows that the law is strict."

Emma: "Are the punishments severe as well?"

Matias: "Compared to your country, yes, they are. There's no need to show mercy to criminals."

Matias: "Everything is the fault of the guilty. This is the unshakeable foundation of justice."

(His country seems quite cold.)

While I believe that humans are creatures prone to making mistakes, his attitude suggests he doesn't even forgive those mistakes.

(Is this justice for the sake of equality?)

(My emotions might influence me, but I guess that's one way to look at it.)

I accepted his views without affirming or denying them.

Matias: "By the way, is there a specific number of minutes for your rule of spacing out?"

Emma: "It's over now! Sorry for the trouble!"

Emma: "I'll focus on your lecture from now on. Thank you in advance!"

Matias: "Leave it to me. I'll cram the law basics into you in a few hours."

By the time we left the shop, the sky had already turned red.

(I might have underestimated the lecture.)

The lecture in which he began using the book turned out to be more comprehensive than I thought.

I was able to understand everything thanks to his easy-to-understand explanations, but perhaps due to the dense content, I still felt a little dizzy.

Matias: "Sorry. I got a bit carried away."

Emma: "Please don't apologize! It was very informative."

Matias: "Well, if you say so, but I may have overdone it since you were listening so attentively."

Matias: "I often get told off by my juniors for this, but finding the right balance is tricky."

Matias: "Especially with women. Honestly, this is my first time giving a lecture to a woman."

Matias: "I'll have to imagine and practice every possible scenario when I go home."

(This is his first time giving a lecture to a woman.)

I was surprised because most of the women we passed by would look at him when he was just walking around like this.

Jin and Nokto often attract female attention, but in his case, I feel a compelling "force" akin to butterflies drawn to honey.

Emma: "Are there no women around you?"

Matias: "There are plenty. But they're all unique."

Matias: "Whether they are as pretty as butterflies or as lovely as bunnies, they all change their attitude when I approach them."

(Ah.)

Matias: "But you, on the other hand..."

Suddenly, Matias stopped in his tracks.

Matias: "Miss Emma, are you sure there's nothing wrong with you when you're with me?"

Emma: "Hmm, I don't think so."

The moment I replied, it was as if a dam had burst, and his charm overflowed, leaving me breathless with its intensity.

(He might be like this, but his presence feels like it's breaking some law.)

The overflowing charm of the most law-abiding prince, who seems to have gone to destroy order himself, is a guilty verdict in every sense.

(But he doesn't seem to be aware of it.)

Matias: "You're my only hope."

Emma: "Huh?"

He smiled warmly and clasped both of my hands.

Matias: "I thought I would never meet my ideal queen because women's attitudes often change, but..."

Matias: "If there's a woman as level-headed as you, there's still a chance."

Matias: "And someday, we'll greet the morning together, wrapped in a blanket, watching the early snow."

Emma: "Prince Matias?"

Matias: "Ahem. Anyway, you're my hope."

Matias: "I now have another reason to thank you."

(I may not fully understand everything he's dealing with, but he seems to have his own struggles.)

Emma: "I've received more than enough thanks today. I hope you find your wonderful queen."

Matias: "Yeah."

Emma: "And, Prince Matias, my house is just around the corner."

Matias: "I see. That was quicker than I thought. I guess this is it then."

Emma: "Yes. Your lecture was fun and informative. I feel like I've become a bit smarter! Thank you for today."

Matias: "That's what makes you such a lovely woman."

(That charm again.)

Dizziness washed over me as he smiled charmingly. I tried to let go of his hand, but he held on tightly, stopping me.

Matias: "Would it bother you if I said I find it hard to leave?"

Emma: "Did you say something?"

Matias: "No, it must be your imagination."

(----?)

Matias: "If there's another chance, I'll teach you anything you want to know."

Emma: "In that case, I'd like to hear about your student days next."

(I'm really curious about their student life.)

Matias: "Sure. There's no shortage of stories from our school days."

With a sudden change of demeanor, he lifted my hand and kissed the tips of my fingers.

Matias: "Until we meet again."

Matias: "Emma, I sincerely appreciate it."

Emma: "Likewise."

He reluctantly released my hand and walked away.

His beautiful figure gradually grew distant, and the gaze of the women also shifted away.

(Matias is a kind and good person, but I wouldn't want to meet him in a courtroom.)

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Matias End ╎ Epilogue

#ikemen prince #ikepri matias #ikepri #ikepri jp #matias asbrink #ikepri translations

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saulocept · 2 years

Text

come pour yourself all over me

pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]

rating: g

summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.

notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance.

also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it!

You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.

You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.

You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.

In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.

Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.

You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.

The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.

It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.

It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.

At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.

You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?

Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.

The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.

Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.

You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”

Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”

Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”

He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”

You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.

Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.

“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”

“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.

“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.

This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”

This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”

It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”

“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”

You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”

“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.

“There,” he says after a moment. He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”

“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.

“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”

Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.

“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”

Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”

“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.

He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”

You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -

It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.

“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”

You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”

He only smirks at you in return.

#renwrites #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader

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issylra · 2 months

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Last Line Tag Game! ✨

tagged by @valeriianz ❤️

using this as an excuse to post a snip from the second chapter of distraction (reaction)! please ignore any typos because I haven't edited yet:

It is not Dream's intention to intrude, but he finds himself intruding nonetheless, frozen as he is at the threshold of Hob's washroom door. The scent of lavender tickles his nose, carried across the quiet flat by heavy, humid air. "You can come in. Got enough bubbles here to protect my modesty," Hob says, after Dream has spent several minutes mulling over an appropriate greeting. He sounds almost fond, and Dream allows himself to take a step through the door, eyes trained steadfastly at the wall above Hob's head. "Not that there's much modesty left after those photos." "It was not my intention to—" "I know," Hob cuts him off, something like amusement coloring the tone of his voice. "Like I said before, I'm not ashamed." Dream doesn't respond, Matthew's words a distracting mantra in his head. Tell him, boss. Truthfully, Dream does not even know where to begin. He dares a look downward, and it's another in a long list of Hob Gadling related mistakes. Hob is wet, errant bubbles sticking to the skin of his chest. Dream watches the drops of water as they trickle down from the hollow of his throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake until they eventually disappear back into murky bath water.

I feel like everyone has been tagged, so apologies in advance for any duplicates: @tharkuun @hardly-an-escape @lenreli @reallyintoscience and whoever might want to do it! also, no pressure because I'm not sure who's writing anymore.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #wip tag game

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soundspeachytome · 9 months

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7 minutes in heaven - shohei ohtani au

summary: Y/N snoops around famous football player Shohei Ohtani’s locker in search for a scandal against his clean record but ends up in one herself.

tropes: friends with benefits, friends to lovers(?)

tw: *slight* smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving)

word count: 30,033K words (i'm SO sorry in advance holy shit)

hi! it's been a while. when i made this account, i vowed to write at least once a week but it had been so difficult this month juggling work, my chronic migraines, and seasonal depression (lol).

please note i did not proofread this so plsssss i apologize for grammar mistakes and inconsistencies!!

posting this on the last day of 2023, hoping to give everyone a good read before we welcome the new year. so thankful for this small space to try, linger and reset all over again. hope you had a very merry holidays with your loved ones.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==================================

Locker Lockdown

At around thirty minutes past four in the afternoon, I skimmed the clubhouse for any signs of life. It was only the quiet that prevailed. Clear.

I tiptoed my way towards the player locker room. I only had around ten minutes to locate the correct locker and take whatever I could find. Discovering the locker area to be empty and unguarded, I felt a surge of excitement.

Six years later, I couldn’t get my big break and decided sports journalism could catapult me into somewhere big in the industry. This is my last chance to prove myself, otherwise I’d have to reconsider going back home and write Hallmark greeting card messages again.

Shohei Ohtani’s jersey number is the number 17. Lucky bastard, after all these years and even after going through free agency, he got to keep his famous number, even at the cost of having their senior player give it up for him when he joined the football team.

And here you might be wondering why I’m doing this aside from my sheer desperation to get an official spot in the workplace and not eat scraps of topics editors discarded for themselves.

Some people are privileged to a fault.

And I hate seeing him on TV. Or on social media. Or his Colgate-white smile plastered all over my favorite beer and skincare brands.

Some would say this is the TMZ tabloid level of writing. I say this is investigative journalism. Find out if the famous favorite son-in-law has any flaws of his own and wrap around a bowtie of hidden horrors of sports documentaries.

And where else can we find this but in the athlete hotpot: their locker room.

I found Shohei’s locker right away as it was the tidiest locker among all on display, with nothing but brand-sponsored clothing hung neatly on the rack. He also donned the top shelf with some dog-eared self-help titles and vitamin bottles. While the rest of the athletes have pictures of their girlfriends, wives and their kids, Shohei has an unreleased polaroid selfie with his dog, Dekopin, just right beside his perfume bottles. Dekopin was looking away, captured in mid-yawn, with his ears raised, and Shohei, smiling into the camera with pursed lips and a snapback on.

I got so immersed into reading the ingredients of his vitamin bottles, trying to find anything remotely related to steroids, or any form of illegal bodily enhancements, that I didn’t notice footsteps from outside the hall.

“What are you doing here?” a voice loomed behind me and I dropped the diet supplement bottle in panic.

Only the sound of the bottle rattling could be heard as I locked eyes with Shohei Ohtani, tall and all muscular. His hair was sweaty and unkempt and his eyes held mild anger and confusion. After the bottle stopped rolling and settled somewhere on the floor between us, there was only silence and the cold sweat building up at my back.

I swallowed hard. I planned everything from studying the stadium’s entrance and exit doors but I didn’t plan on bumping into him. Not like this. Not when I’m at the lowest level of the social hierarchy right now.

I could only be ashamed.

Brain still befuddled at the thought of getting caught, I urged my limbs and picked up the vitamin bottle and returned it back to Shohei’s locker. The plan was not to respond at all and run as fast as I could before the rest of his team arrived. That was the only way to keep whatever dignity I have left.

“I said, what are you doing here?” He caught my arm mid-exit and pulled me back, tightening his grip.

“Let go of me.” I struggled to keep my balance and the way my voice wavered was no help at all.

Shohei saw the camera slung over my shoulder and looked back at me, realization hitting him.

“Y/N, are you a sports journalist now? And were you looking through my stuff?” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“That’s none of your business. Let go of me.” I kept my voice steady but his grip only tightened. The sides of my eyes slowly formed tears.

“What tabloid media do you work for? I should report you. Would you like that? What a shame you’ll be banned from all the games now, right? You nasty journalists just won’t keep your noses away from my business.” he took my camera and deleted all the photos I took of the contents of his locker. I tried to leap for it but he was obviously inches taller than I was and I was no match for that.

“I don’t write tabloid news. If I was, my name would have been all over TV by now.” I grabbed the camera from him and sighed morosely at the lost media. A day’s work is all lost.

“My boss gave me a green light to do a documentary about the team. And the star player.” I wiggled my fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the word “star” in front of him.

“I came here assuming you and the other players would be here for an interview but no one was around yet. So I hung around a bit and took interest in your nutritional supplements.” Lie after lie after lie. I gritted my teeth and faked a smile. The most convincing lie I’ve learned on almost all my failed dates and relationships was to stroke a man’s ego and have him talk about all the things he is interested in, making him divert his attention to something else.

“You’ve got really good, um, vitamins for muscle recovery there. Maybe that’s why you got so big and strong, right?.” He looked at me dubiously, nodding responsively to be polite. If he took the bait, then he is obviously just like any other guy I’ve ever met.

“I mean, I guess? I’ve been doing deadlifts so–”

Approaching footsteps and faint voices were heard from the hall. Shohei pushed me toward the opposite end of the hall, where the showers were located.

“Wha–” I started but was shut up when he pushed me further into the back of the shower room, swiping the doors closed.

“Shut up if you don’t want to be caught.” He growled and I recoiled back into the tiled corner. On top of me was the almost rusting shower head who had seen better days, and two bottle pumps for shampoo and body wash.

Voices and conversations were starting to fill in the locker room that was empty only a few seconds ago. The voices of men echoed through the shower rooms. You could hear the sound of water turning on from neighboring shower stalls, laughter and tired conversation in the locker area. We were surrounded.

Shohei could be heard laughing with his mates while blocking the door to the shower room I was hiding in.

“Are you using that, Sho? I could use a hot shower right now.” one of his teammates said.

“Uh, no, I was just about to use this room, sorry.” he said, almost hesitating. After a few seconds, he entered the shower room and started undressing.

I widened my eyes and shot him daggers. When he unhooked his shirt from his armholes, I was rendered speechless.

He had the body sculpted by the gods with his wide shoulders and large pecs that glinted under the light. How could someone look handsome and beautiful at the same time?

So when Shohei reached for the waist belt of his pants down, I didn’t know why I had choked on a silent scream. I looked away, embarrassed to have reacted like an inexperienced teenager. I have seen and have been with naked men before. This should be nothing new to me and my level. Or so I thought.

I stole a glance at Shohei, who was slowly walking towards me (or to the showerhead, where I stood under, obviously) in only his boxers on, gazing at me in wild amusement.

We were almost inches apart from each other, foreheads almost touching, breaths almost converging, if you may. If I stand on my tiptoes, I would be almost at his eye-level and I could peck him on the lips if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

“Sorry, but I need to shower or someone else will try to take this stall.” His voice broke my salacious thoughts. He looked at me and turned the shower on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to. Aren’t I? I just got off practice and I stink.” He said almost sarcastically.

“So I’m supposed to just watch you bathe and hope I get out here alive?” Water slowly dripped into my shirt, soaking my chest and exposing a bit of my underwear.

“If you didn’t sneak in here, we wouldn’t have this problem.” He concluded and pursed his lips, not looking at me.

“Shohei? You okay? You sound like you’re talking to someone.” a familiar voice floated into the shower room.

“It was a video on my phone that I forgot to pause, Ippei-san.” Shohei’s face turned red but recovered quickly, glaring at me.

“Oh, well then, I thought you finally had a girl in there. I was wrong.” Ippei laughed.

Shohei started lathering body wash on his body at the slowest pace possible. His hands glided through his chest, stomach, and into the dick he’s restraining inside his boxers. Simply having this view had me almost whimpering. If it had been another day, I would have obviously enjoyed this, having a sexy man bathe in front of me, because who wouldn’t? But under my circumstances, I’m only fairly annoyed at being a flustered, hot mess and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Oh, fuck, now you got me wet.” I blurted a little loudly as the water splashed and got into my socks.

Shohei’s widened and panicked eyes shot at me.

In between those short seconds, Shohei was able to respond quicker than my brain could. He had faked a laugh and said loudly, “Well, that’s awkward, the video keeps on playing on its own. Let me turn my phone off instead.” gaining laughter from outside the shower area and then reaching for the small of my neck and closed whatever space was seen between us.

Based on what I had learned in self-defense training, my initial bodily reaction should have been this: If someone is coming at you from the front, a groin kick may deliver enough force to paralyze your attacker, making your escape possible. 1. Stabilize yourself as best you can. 2. Lift your dominant leg off the ground and begin to drive your knee upward. 3. Extend your dominant leg, drive hips forward, slightly lean back, and kick forcefully, making contact between your lower shin or ball of your foot and the attacker’s groin area.

Instead, when his lips touched mine, I felt my arms throw around his neck and pulled him closer. They say we’re all beggars for something, and this indulgence I had let myself be greedy for.

When his lips reached mine, I parted like the Red Sea almost immediately, welcoming him and everything that he could offer: the taste of his tongue on my mouth, the smell of honey orange and apricot from his body wash seeping through my nose as I peppered kisses on his chest, and his obviously hard dick grinding against my stomach. When I palmed him, he managed a low growl and caught my wrists.

“Not here.” he groaned.

I pushed my head back inquiringly, both of us breathing too hard.

“I have no condom,” he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. Under the dim bathroom light, I could see his face and chest were flushed. “Next time?”

“Well, usually when two old friends meet after a fall out in college, they just catch up and have coffee.” I said.

He laughed and said quietly, “Okay, so I owe you.”

“The coffee or the protected sex?”

“Uh, it could go a lot of ways.” Before he could say more, I palmed him through his boxer shorts and looked up at him, trying to find his limit.

Shohei bit his own lip and tugged the roots of my hair in a bundle, pulling and tugging from the pleasure. To keep himself from making such ungodly hot sounds, he pushed his tongue down my throat and thrusted his hips back and forth against my hand.

As if to make it even, he unclasped my bra and sucked on my already soaked breasts, a satisfied groan slipped from me. We both pulled and pushed and sucked and kissed each other in the crevices the shower splatters couldn’t reach, silencing the moans before it could escape us.

In that brief and elating moment, while we muted the noise from unsuspecting people, we smothered each other’s groans and reached our highs in the quietest, most pleasurable way possible.

=========================================

7 minutes of heaven

It’s strange how I always find myself in the most ridiculous situations.

The next few occasions that I’d meet Shohei would be wordless and timed interactions in enclosed spaces. We’d see each other in public and pretend we didn’t know each other but slip each other notes of the next place we’d secretly meet. It all felt strangely exhilarating to keep a secret like a fifteen year old would, with all the sneaking and running.

We’ve explored almost every nook and cranny of the stadium, discovering hidden spots of our rendezvous. We’d meet up in a different bathroom and he’d push me on my back while he fucks me repeatedly on the bathroom sink. Pre-game preps meant I gave him blowjobs in his manager’s office hours and hours before everyone even arrived.

Of course, when we ran out of places to hide, we’d go as far as looking for the next empty parking lot and tried to fuck each other noiselessly.

“So when can I take you out for dinner?” he had asked one day, when he dragged me out to meet with him around after midnight. I wouldn’t let him inside my apartment and I refused to do the deed in his either, so he’d bring me to places that only us knew, to fuck, to kiss, sometimes to talk, but more often, to drive each other’s pleasure and only that.

Because god forbid we both catch feelings and lose the fun, right?

So no talking, no sharing of personal details, no anything.

We were in an empty parking lot, away from the lampposts and streetlights. Shohei had made sure that we were well hidden in the dark.

He had his legs spread while sitting on the driver’s seat. His hands, warm and wide, rested on my hips and thighs, lightly urging me to ride him slowly.

Soft RNB music played on the stereo, it was a quiet, still night. It was both our day off so he had wanted us to chill and take the sex slowly.

Slow meant gazing at each other’s eyes–gaze, not look–with endearment or adoration, not lust or pleasure. Slow meant thinking the unthinkable thoughts. Slow meant being vulnerable while coming undone.

And I don’t want the slow and quiet moments. I wanted the fast and rough with no time to talk, gaze or even think, just one hundred percent fun and debauchery.

“Mmm. Maybe when you show me your photos,” I avoided the question but I also knew Shohei would never show me the photos he had taken–past and present. Even when we had been buddies for an entire semester, he had, not once, shown me his portfolio.

“So probably never, right?” he gazed up at me with his creamy brown eyes, hands caressing my stomach lightly.

“Probably,” I muttered and with that he had gripped my thighs tightly and moved his hips upwards to meet me. I moaned when he hit me in the right spots. Any sign of softness he had shown a few moments ago was gone, and only the roughness and unsettling disconnection remained.

This particularly fine day, I would be standing at the mercy of his mouth. He had dragged me to an empty storage room in the east wing of the stadium, hours after practice. According to him, the area stands the exact opposite from the lockers so most people hardly come by. How he had found out about this, I had no idea.

He was kneeling in between me, my right leg hooked on his shoulder, giving him more access and my hands tugged at the strands of his hair every time he licked my sensitive clit.

Shohei’s tongue grazing against me had left me quivering in delight. He stands up and kisses me, giving me a taste. My fingers started unbuckling his belt when he felt his phone vibrate.

“Oops, Ippei’s looking for me.” He pockets his phone, looking forlorn, as if telling me he didn’t really want to go yet. “See you again next time?”

“Yours or mine?” I had asked, brushing up and straightening my wrinkled dress. And when I realized what I had done, Shohei’s eyes shot up and he beamed widely.

“I just– I- I want a proper night with sex, you know.” I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s so uncomfortable having to go commando at work after you had just literally sucked the life out of my vagina, Sho.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiled even more.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What? Fuck off.” By this time, my face felt hot and had probably looked red like a tomato, which probably amused Shohei even more.

“Your place, then. I’ll call you.” he gives me one last kiss then heads out first, leaving me a dazed and pulsating mess.

A shrill sound knocked me awake. It felt like seven thousand screaming hungry babies in my ear, bouncing off around my brain like a pinball.

I looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and saw the time glinting behind the glass: 8:41 PM. I must've fallen asleep after taking a half day off from work, feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. It seemed that whatever body malaise that I have been carrying inside me earlier had sprung into a full-blown ailment.

I pushed my body up and walked groggily to the source of my misery.

Someone was buzzing the doorbell and repeatedly pounding on the door. Great.

“If you’re not dead or dying behind this door, you’re about to be.” I croaked harshly, throat burning; putting all my remaining energy in pulling the door open. I was greeted by an extremely tall man with frantic brown eyes, searching my face.

“Oh, thank fucking god. I’ve been knocking for half an hour.” he wrapped me in a tight hug, I almost collapsed. Partly because of the throbbing headache and overall discomfort that I already felt, but hugely because of the warm minty scent of Shohei Ohtani.

“Jesus, you’re burning up!”

“What are you doing here?” I said, struggling in his grip, his face resting on the curve of my neck. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You don’t text someone ‘at least i’ll die happy today knowing that my last meal was shoyu ramen’ and then not fucking reply after.” We were still standing by the entrance, his face now angled towards me, a look of concern or anger mixed in his face, I couldn’t tell. My cerebral cortex functions seemed to have shut down after witnessing this unexpected tenderness.

“Medicine knocked me down cold.” I shrugged weakly.

Shohei pulled me into the bedroom and tucked me back in, apologizing for his intrusion, putting down plastic bags of what seemed to be groceries on the kitchen counter, and went back to lightly scolding me for proper texting etiquette to family and friends, to anyone really. That my dark humor doesn’t translate well in messages and that I could have really died and people would think I’m joking but really, he got so scared that he went here as fast as he could.

I don’t remember much but in between fever dreams and my ibuprofen haze, I faintly remember the savory taste of rice porridge exploding in my mouth, the constant dabbing of a cold towel on my face, neck and chest, sometimes, my back, too; the smell of rubbing alcohol and a large, gentle, almost loving touch.

I don’t remember much but in between waking up in the darkness and stone-cold silence, I remember soft forehead kisses until I drifted back to sleep; of big strong arms enclosing me into a big embrace, as if to tell me, you can put your guard down now. you are safe here.

I don’t remember much from coming in and out of slumber, but I remember thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if this wasn’t a dream?

======================================

Reset

In the end, I quit sports media on my own volition and got into a friend’s ceramics house. I have always had a thing for ceramics and sculpting as early as college, where I had met my then-professor and now friend–who happens to be the owner of mentioned ceramics house. She had always praised me and encouraged me to join her when she first opened the shop, but as someone who had musings for writing at the time, I politely declined and pursued, you guessed it, journalism.

I’ve always been good at writing, no doubt, from the way professors always had a good word for me, but I always seem to get into the wrong places every time. Time moves fast if you’re a journo, if you’re slow, then the news is rehashed news, it would just be a late-night recap at a midnight slot that no one is ever awake to watch.

Here, inside her shop, it was quiet, and time moved slowly. I can get into my laziest clothes and no one bats an eye. I can finally retire my stilettos and straight cut blazers.

It was all so going well. The customers were always mid-twenties who got interested in our social media marketing of creating your own mugs and other ceramics and always came in in groups, duos, and solos.

Slowly, I realized that not everyone gets to the places they want. Even when you work blood and sweat for it. Not all were built like, say, Shohei Ohtani, whose talent was recognized early and afforded him an automatic slot in the big leagues.

Some are born to be big icons and some, like the rest of us, are meant for smaller, softer spaces. I get that now. It finally felt like I was in the right place and pace.

All this positivity and good timing felt all too good to be true and been proven accurate when the scandal blew up.

Shohei Ohtani photographed exiting his LA apartment with a woman in his arms.

Shohei Ohtani’s rumored girlfriend receives backlash from fans: READ MORE

EXCLUSIVE: More photographs of Shohei Ohtani and rumored girlfriend driving away in his Porsche

Rumored girlfriend of Shohei Ohtani: Who is She?

When I say it was everywhere, I meant it exploded right in front of our faces like a million confetti, falling and twirling fast. It was unstoppable. It was inevitable.

I felt my limbs go numb when I read the morning news. There in bold and black letters was the headline, my name and a clear photo of me holding Shohei’s arm, smiling. A certain news outlet had gotten juice of us and our secret hideouts and had spread all over social media like wildfire. You know what’s funnier? The media outlet that released this was my previous employer. The same company that asked me to snuff out a controversy. While I had failed to give them the news they wanted, I had unintentionally brought them an exclusive that wrote my entire name–and face–off the map and potentially ruined Shohei Ohtani’s clean record.

Shohei Ohtani, despite his happy-go-lucky and passive demeanor, was a very serious and straight-laced person. I already knew this in university but I got to see more of this side of him when we had started the fucking thing. Even though I had clearly told him that I didn’t want any strings attached, it was unavoidable to give and receive bits and pieces of each other when we’re not naked.

I did enjoy talking to Shohei under the sheets. His ingenious ideas and the way he talked about the things he adored spilled all over him, like afternoon sunlight streaming in between curtains, making way even through the small spaces to cast his light. I basked into this warmth as much time allowed me, because who knows when I can experience the glow of his presence again after all the chaos.

He was exactly like the golden hour: a warm afternoon orange luminescence that usually only stays for ten to fifteen minutes a day. If you wait too long to look up, he disappears quickly as he goes, leaving only the faint orange, yellow and pink hues chasing after him before the black of the night takes over you.

Well, now the fairytale has run its course and the sun has set to announce that golden hour is over. Night has finally fallen on me and I’m feeling scared and alone.

The first thing I did was to grab as much stuff as I could and put them all in my luggage and filed for an indefinite leave.

As if like clockwork, my phone rang and saw Shohei’s name on the caller ID. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What could I possibly say to him? That I used him just for the clicks and the views? That after all this time we spent together, he would realize that I am still the same despicable, scathing piece of garbage who’d trample on anyone just for a few cents?

So I don’t answer. Even when he calls back again and again and leaves me twenty or more messages by the hour. I turned my phone off. The latest message from Ohtani coming up on the notifications bar read, “Where are you?” before the screen flashed to black.

I have nothing but my pride left. I’d like to keep it that way. In such a way, I was embarrassed, too. I thought I finally had something to brag about. A job that I actually liked and enjoyed, a peaceful mind, and the possibility of liking a guy who had shown me nothing but kindness.

And because I couldn’t handle all of this, I handled it like I have always handled things: I ran away like a coward.

I rode a bus without reading its destination card and let it drive me away as far as it could, to someplace where no one knew me or Shohei Ohtani, or had any idea about the news.

The bus drove away and I never looked back.

================================

Waiting Until My Spring Comes Again: Shohei’s POV

Just like that I lost her. She wasn’t even mine to begin with.

When the news broke out, I was so furious that I wanted to drive to the news outlet that published the article and give them a piece of my mind. I knew my blind rage would have done more damage so I didn’t.

Instead, I looked for her and wanted to let her know that whatever happens, I won’t drop her just like that. That I’m willing to acknowledge the rumors and make it official, if she wanted to.

I’ve always been open to the idea of taking it to the next level with her but every time I broached the subject, she would change the topic, get into a foul mood, or try to pick a fight with me. Which I found endearing. She’s so adorable when she pouts. And when she pushes her luck thinking a five foot four girl like her can withstand someone as tall as me.

I just can’t help but laugh and feel a flutter in my stomach. She’s someone who has been adorable and held a special corner in my heart.

Y/N’s face was so expressive and whatever emotion she was in it would always be evident on her face. When she’s happy, a dimple on her cheek shows up. When she’s feeling sad or down, she’d look downcast and would prefer that you leave her alone. When she’s thinking about something deep, she would chew on her lower lip and always had a blank almost unfocused stare. Despite her many faces, I’m sure as hell that I love all of them. I wanted to be by her side when all this shit happened, I wanted to see which face she was making. Is she pissed like I was? Is she sad? I wouldn’t know. The moment her number didn’t connect after I had tried reaching her, I already knew that she was avoiding me.

I lost count of how many messages I had sent her, of how many missed calls and voicemails I left her. She was unreachable. She gave me her spare key so when I tried visiting her apartment, it was empty.

She was gone.

And only the traces of her lingered in her apartment. Her unwashed mug with leftover stale coffee was on the kitchen counter, specks of lipstick staining the mouth. Dirty clothes hanging on her bathroom door, forgotten and unwashed. The peachy scent of her purifier that always latches on to her clothes whenever we go out. Her unread books on her coffee table, some dog eared and annotated.

Everything that I love about her is here except for her and I miss her.

For the next couple of days, I dodged the media and focused on training, playing and practicing. Those three over and over again. I tried to not think about her and lose sleep because of her. An athlete’s wellbeing is connected to quality sleep.

But she was everywhere I went. Pieces of her were scattered all over the places I avoided, and it was my fault really, for bringing her to places we usually hid. For hoping that someday, the secrets we hid would be our stories to tell. Now I just let her memories rot inside my heart, where she should be.

I thought it would be easier when you just let it slip by but the more days that passed without seeing her, the more I feel a gnawing pain in my heart. She had sucked all my sunlight and took it all away with her.

I want her back.

=====================================

My Answer is You

Eleven days. It took me nine days to realize running away was a bad idea.

When I first got off the bus, I thought the place looked familiar. Turns out, I rode the bus to my hometown, to the very south and the last bus stop until it turned around to go back to the city.

When I appeared in front of my mom–the first time in a long time–she had immediately said, “Did something in the city?”

The moment she asked, I broke down in tears. She shushed and consoled me while I cried like a little kid. Like the way I had bawled to her when my first boyfriend broke up with me, or when my love birds died from illness, the other from loneliness.

It feels like I would die of loneliness, Mom. I had said.

Did he really say that? Did he tell you that it’s over? She cooed.

I was embarrassed to admit to my mom that no, Shohei had never told me anything because I had shut him out even before I could give him the chance. But what if that call was already the end of it all? What if answering his call meant exactly what I had thought. That would shatter me more.

So, no, Mom, you can call your daughter a coward but in her heart, it’s all over.

The next forty-eight hours at home was a blur. After feeding me with what feels like a day’s worth of homemade dishes, she made me wash the dishes, clean my old room, and the living room as well. And when that wasn’t enough, she made me go with her to the night market and bought whatever seafood she could find to feed me.

Is this what you did when Dad left? I wanted to ask her. Did you go around acting as normal while nursing a wounded heart? Did you go all through that facade just to show me that you were strong for the both of us?

She had her back to me, her hands pale and creased with age, showing signs of passage of time and her hardwork to put me to school. I know she was trying to make me busy to keep my mind off of Shohei. I’m not sure if she fully understands the scandal but she was trying her best to keep my head above the water. Probably just like how she always did.

I wish I was strong like you, Mom.

On the fourth and fifth day, she had let me work under the sun harvesting corn. Which I absolutely despised. I had to wear sun hats and these jumpers to cover myself from the heat.

“It’s cheap labor for letting you stay and eat my food,” she said when I complained. “Tomorrow, you’ll help me sell these at the market.”

As the days grew idly by, I’ve grown more accustomed to rising early and eating less meat and more vegetables. I willingly went out of the sun more to do housework, like hanging clothes, watering Mom’s plants, however, I was still not willing to harvest her vegetables, which she made me do a lot. When I say a lot, it means everyday since then.

On the eleventh morning, I woke up earlier than usual and found my mom already awake. She busied herself with a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, mom.” I yawned, grabbing my own mug.

“After breakfast, pack your things and go back to the city.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” I’m not sure I heard her right. Is she kicking me out?

She pushed today’s newspaper into my hands and pointed at an article. An article shows a picture of Shohei smiling at the camera, behind him was a framed candid photo of me turning my head just in time when the camera clicked, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, a shawl draped over my shoulders, and the wind blowing my hair and covering my face slightly. Just by looking at the photo, it looked like a time when Shohei and I drove to the beach. He had brought his camera and took a lot of photos.

The article said, “Portfolio on Love: Shohei Ohtani’s Photographs Displayed for A Cause.”

“....and when the powerhouse athlete gets a day off, he plays around his camera and takes photos of anything, everywhere. He reveals Insider Today that for the first time ever, he is displaying his portfolio to the public at the Grand City Museum starting today until the 31st of the month, with the theme of “hello, love, are you there?”

“...’I don’t know how else to define love but this. I hope when the public sees this, they will instantly know that my photographs are a reflection of my love,’ he said.

“When asked if this was a confirmation to the rumors flying around recently, he just smiled sadly and said, "I'm hoping that this answers everyone’s questions, especially hers.”

“If your face is plastered on all of the newspapers, it wouldn’t make sense to stay here longer.” Mom said after a while. She had finished her breakfast and took them away to the sink.

“It doesn’t end well if you’re too afraid, my darling.” she said, not looking at me. “To love and to be hurt is to be brave. If it doesn’t work out after facing him, then by all means. Come home. My doors are always open for you. And I will feed you rice cakes while you harvest my corn.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a hugger but welcomed my hug and patted me on the shoulders. “Now go, before all the chismosas wake up and corners you.”

I packed my bags and left home, my heart pieced back together. It was not wrong to go home and seek shelter. What I did wrong was leaving Shohei all alone when he took most of the fall.

Five hours, one taxi ride, and a ten minute walk later, I arrived at the city museum, nervous, anxious, feeling a little lightheaded and hesitant. I wiped my sweaty palms and got inside.

It was not as packed as I had expected, probably because it was a little over after lunch, though there was still a relatively big crowd overall.

When I stepped into the hall featuring Shohei’s displays, I felt a surge of emotion. It was a collection of all the photographs of his loved ones. In a black and white collection, he had photographed his parents holding hands while walking in the snow, a photo of his dog sleeping idly on his couch, a photo of the football stadium in a wide angle shot, showing Ippei and the rest of his teammates playing a warm up game before practice.

When I turned to a corner, that’s when I saw it. There were multiple frames hanging intricately on one side, showing all of the photos he took of me. One during university days, where I was showing him a strangely large eggplant during our photo walks at the market. There was another with me looking at him angrily for reasons I couldn’t remember, and a more recent one, in the middle, where he was holding my hand while I walked forward, back facing the camera.

On the metal plate below were words that read in cursive: “2009–present. Moments of love that I hold dear.”

At that moment, tears had started rolling down my cheek and I couldn’t help but sob. The onlookers nearby started moving away, probably weirded out by the sudden burst of emotion over some piece of art.

They weren’t just pieces of art. These were moments when Shohei and I were together and maybe realized that it was love.

By then, someone on my left offered a handkerchief and I gingerly took it, wiping my tears-strewn face. I muttered an apology for ruining the fabric.

“This is not the first time someone cried in front of my photographs. Some were absolutely heartbroken after seeing them.” a man’s voice said. And that reeled me back as I turned around and saw Shohei standing in front me.

“I knew this would lure you back,” he said, smiling.

His face was a little gaunt and tired. He had dark circles around his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I could only look at him and he looked back. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to explain but he spoke first and said:

“Did you get a tan?” he started, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I was harvesting corn!” I said, covering my face with both hands. I didn’t even have the time to put on makeup or a swab of lipstick and that’s the first thing he notices.

He took my hands and held them tightly against his chest. “No one looks this beautiful even after harvesting corn.”

“Shut up,” I said looking away.

He tipped my chin and held my face. “Let’s start again, shall we?”

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi, my name is Shohei Ohtani. I’m an athlete and an amateur photographer sometimes. I’ve been in love with the girl in the photographs since forever.”

I managed a smile and laced my hands around his neck. “Hi, I’m a ceramics maker and sometimes, a farmer, you should see the corn I harvest. You look so familiar. I think you look like my future boyfriend.”

His eyes perked up and laughed at our silly little game. He went in for a kiss and I obliged, feeling safe and brave in his arms.

Let them take the damn photographs and write the articles all they want, but they could never take my sunshine away ever again.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani fluff #shohei ohtani smut

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syuga-s · 1 month

Text

i made my fiancés tinder profile

w.c. 8.5k pairing. non-idol!jeon jungkook x fem!reader genre. cute and angsty friends to lovers <333 a/n. idk guys i wrote this like a month ago but I JUST GOT THE ENERGY TO POST IT so i apologize in advance if you find mistakes here and there, ALSO i made the playlist that inspired me to make this fic so i'll just leave it here if you want to give it a listen or save it don't look at my other playlists tho they're a mess 🦦

You always thought you were pretty good at giving dating advice. It’s easier when you’re not the one doing the dating, right? That’s how it all started with Jungkook. You two were chilling at your apartment one lazy Sunday afternoon when you suddenly blurted out, “Why are you still single, Jungkook? You’re amazing, good-looking, and fun. You should at least be on like three different dating apps.”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair in that effortlessly cool way he always did. “Dunno' just haven’t found the right person,” he said with a smile that made you heart do a weird little flip. “I don’t think I’m good at dating, haha.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shot back, sitting up. “Let's make you an account. We’ll get you some matches in no time.”

He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “Sure, let's do it.”

And that’s how you ended up setting up his profile, not realizing that this would be the beginning of the end of your denial and the start of a love story you never saw coming.

You grabbed his phone and he settled onto the couch next to you. “Okay, first things first. We need some killer photos. Let’s start with your main picture.”

You opened the camera app. You sat there, looking at his phone for a minute before he let out a loud laugh.

You looked up. “What is it?"

He grinned, pointing at something behind you. "It's just Tae taking a picture of us setting up a dating profile," Jungkook said, chuckling.

You turned around to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, holding his phone up with a huge grin on his face. "Don't mind me," Taehyung sang out, winking at the two of you. "Just capturing this for posterity."

Tae showed Jungkook the picture and a fit of laughter erupted again, now from the two of them. "Your face! You look so focused and super serious right now."

Rolling your eyes, you lightly smacked his arm. "This is serious business! We need to find the perfect picture to reel in all the potential matches."

Then you started browsing through his photo gallery to curate the most attractive selection of pictures.

There you had him on the gym doing weights, him on his boxing gear, with his dogs, him doing the dishes with a strangely tight black shirt, a few selfies on his car, with his motorcycle. You could sell a whole album with his photos, how on earth would you do him justice and only choose 10 of them?

"Why is this so hard?"

Jungkook chuckled. "Because you're not choosing photos for a profile, you're trying to find a reason to stare at me and my body for too long."

"Boy, I'm trying to help you here, and if I'm gonna do it, I might as well do this like a professional matchmaker." You retorted.

His eyebrows furrowed. "When have you ever paired someone up?"

You smiled smugly. "That's none of your business, Jeon."

"It is, actually, since you're helping me with this thing."

"Fine, if you must know, I hooked up one my friend's older sister with my college roommate."

"Really? How did that go?" He asked, curious.

"Pretty well, they've been together for a couple years now." You answered, still going through his photos.

"Wasn't your college roommate that guy with the blue hair?" He asked, his tone changing slightly.

"Uh-huh, why?"

"Wasn't he the guy you were dating during our third year?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

"How can you forget about him?" He sounded annoyed. "You spent an entire week crying in my bed because he broke up with you."

"Oh my god, did I? I don't recall." You were playing dumb, of course you remembered but there was no need to talk about that. "What do you think of this one?" It was a shirtless picture, point blank.

"I think you look kinda slutty but everyone's gonna eat it up, you'll get a date in no time." You continued.

"I am not posting a shirtless picture, are you crazy?" He snatched the phone from your hand.

"Well, it's not like we're gonna sell the damn picture, it's just your torso and the picture is really nice, you look good, I don't know why you're making such a fuss."

He didn't say anything, just looked at you.

"What? I'm complimenting you, it's the truth." You rolled your eyes.

"Okay, thank you." He was blushing.

"Are you blushing?" You asked, amused.

"No, it's just really hot in here." He took off his hoodie, throwing it somewhere in your living room.

You didn't even realize how close he was sitting next to you. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been on your couch, but something felt different today. It was strange.

All the photos that you chose showcased different aspects of Jungkook's personality. Each photo told a story about him - his love for his dogs, his passion for staying active, his playful side with silly selfies. As you scrolled through his gallery, you couldn't help but notice the genuine smile on his face in many of the pictures, a smile that seemed to light up the whole world.

After him putting up a fight on choosing his favorite photos of him, next you had to write him something for his bio.

Jungkook leaned in closer to read over your shoulder.

"This is stupid, what do you want me to write? My name, my age, my occupation?" He was whining.

"Yes, those things obviously, but also things like, I don't know a joke or something to sum up your personality. I want them to know you're fun and cute, mind-blowingly good at everything, something along those lines."

"I am mind-blowingly good at everything." He said, his tone confident.

You rolled your eyes.

"So let's say, what if I write 'shit i'd date the hell out of me', you like it?" You asked him with a smile.

He laughed. "I do, I really do."

"Okay, it's settled." You wrote down the phrase, and a bunch of things about him.

"Now we just have to add something that will hook them up."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just be honest. Just, don't write that you're looking for a girl to have sex with."

"But I am looking for a girl to have sex with." Blank expression on his face.

"You are so dumb sometimes." You threw a pillow at his face.

He caught it mid-air. "God, you know I'm not look— this was YOUR IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE!" He yelled, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, but, just write something that will make you look not like a manwhore."

He thought for a moment. "I know, I got it."

"Okay, shoot."

"I'm a manwhore." He had the brightest smile.

"Oh, for the love of..." You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Alright, fine. If that's what you want to go with, who am I to stop you?"

You two were done, and he was already getting notifications.

"Woah, that was... surprisingly fast." He was surprised, and you were proud of yourself.

"Of course, you're hot and cute. We don't see your type in dating apps very often."

He gave you a weird look, you couldn't quite figure out. "Thanks?"

"No worries, I'm sure you'll find someone in no time." You patted him on the back as you were getting up and ready to go to the kitchen and make some dinner. "See who you like and I'll help you on how to ask them on a date."

"Okay." He smiled.

"What are you smiling at? Are you looking at them already?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to see which one of these girls will be our first victim."

"Don't call them victims." You laughed.

The truth is that Jungkook only agreed to this because he loves spending time with you.

As you busied yourself in the kitchen, Jungkook couldn't shake the warmth spreading through his chest. He scrolled through the notifications on his phone, half-heartedly swiping left and right. His mind wasn't on finding a date; it was on you.

He couldn't believe he agreed to this. Making a profile on Tinder just to humor the best friend he was in love with, seemed harmless at first, but now, seeing the app light up with potential matches, he felt burdened. He wasn't here to date. He was here because he wanted to be closer to you, even if it meant pretending to search for someone else.

Each time a new message popped up, he found himself wondering if you'd approve. Would you laugh at the cheesy pickup lines together? Would you help him craft witty responses? He realized he didn't care about meeting any of these girls; he only cared about spending time with you.

But as much as he tried to focus on the dating app in front of him, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. To the way you laughed and teased him, to the way you always seemed to know what he needed even when he didn't realize it himself. Jungkook found himself longing for something he couldn't quite name, a feeling that stirred deep within him whenever he was near you.

He sighed, setting his phone down on the coffee table as he leaned back on the couch because he didn't bother looking through any of the profiles. Instead he made his way to the kitchen, where you were standing over a pot, stirring absentmindedly.

He stepped up behind you, watching as you stirred. His chest was warm, and he had a strange urge to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his nose into your neck.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

You turned your head slightly, not looking at him but smiling. "Hey."

Jungkook took a step closer, placing his hand over yours. "Let me help," he said.

You handed him the wooden spoon, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange. He stirred the pot gently, mirroring the way he wanted to handle your heart. Neither of you spoke, the only sound filling the room was the clinking of utensils against the pot.

"You okay there?" Your voice broke through his daydreaming.

He answered you softly while running a hand through his hair nervously. "Yeah, just... thinking."

As the aroma of the dish wafted through the air, you felt his warmth seeping into you, comforting and familiar. You couldn't ignore the heavy tension that hung between you, thick like a fog.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "So... what do we do now?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

You turned around to face him, his eyes searching yours for answers neither of you dared to voice. "We eat dummy," you said with a laugh.

You and Jungkook sat down for dinner, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. As you ate, you caught each other stealing glances when the other wasn't looking.

"So...have you looked at any of the matches yet?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jungkook shifted in his seat. "A few, but no one really caught my eye," he said evasively.

You nodded, poking at your food. "Well if you see anyone you like, let me know. I want to help."

"Thanks, I will," Jungkook said with a small smile.

You returned the smile weakly, a pang in your chest at the thought of Jungkook dating someone else. You had pushed the feelings down for so long, not wanting to jeopardize your friendship. But your dumb decision of making him a dating profile forced you to confront how you really felt.

After you finished eating together, Jungkook helped you with the dishes. You dried off your hands, and he was ready to leave. Almost as if he was on a rush.

"Thanks for making dinner," he said with a smile.

You nodded. "Of course, you know I love having you over."

You stood at the door awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

Jungkook cleared his throat. "I'll text you," he said.

You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice coming out more high-pitched than normal. "Yeah, cool. See ya later."

He chuckled and leaned down to give you a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent. You held him a little longer than necessary, wanting to memorize the feeling of his arms enveloping you.

Jungkook's hand lingered on your shoulder as he pulled away.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he turned to leave. You watched him go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. As the door closed behind him, you leaned against it, aching with the realization that you might have just pushed away the one person who meant more to you than just a friend.

If only you had the courage to do something.

The following week, you found yourself cleaning your house, the mess had piled up and you had a bunch of your clothes all over the place and that's when you found Jungkook's hoodie from last week. It had fallen between your couch and the wall, so you pulled it out with a considerable amount of force. That's when his iPod fell to the ground.

He still uses this thing? The corners of your mouth turned up involuntarily as you recalled teasing him about the ancient device.

You were surprised, most people uses their phones, or maybe he still has this thing because it was a present from you. If you hadn't seen it you wouldn't have remembered that you had given him this iPod for Christmas like 7 years ago.

You took the device in your hand and turned it on. You figured it would be nice to hear his playlists while you kept cleaning.

You should have just connected it and played it on shuffle. But I guess humans are very nosey creatures. Creatures who love to go through someone else's things, just to see another hidden side of said person.

So, like any other normal human being, you opened his lists, and started to go through them.

"Golden mix", "Euphoria", "OST's". Those were pretty standard. "Lonely nights" a bit of a stretch, "Best of the 00s", "Dance party" and "Songs to sing along". Fork found in kitchen. And there was one more playlist that caught your attention.

Simply labeled with— "Your name."

Your heart started beating faster. What is this?

You opened the playlist and you were welcomed by a list of what it seemed like... love songs.

The first one was "Best Friend". You didn't know what to think. Why did he have a playlist with songs like "Kiss me" by Matt Maltese, "Mountains" by Charlotte Day Wilson, "Making Time" by Rex Orange County. All love songs.

Then it hit you. He's in love.

You started panicking. Your heart racing with thoughts you couldn't ignore any longer. The playlist named after you echoed in your mind.

You couldn't believe it. Jungkook, your best friend, the one who always seemed so casual and carefree, had a playlist dedicated to you filled with love songs. Your mind raced as you tried to process this new information. Was it possible that he felt the same way you did? That the tension between you wasn't one-sided after all?

You sat down on the couch, still holding his iPod in your hands. The weight of it felt heavier now, as if it held all the unspoken words and emotions that had been swirling between you and Jungkook. You couldn't bring yourself to put it down; instead, you scrolled through the playlist again, each song title tugging at your heartstrings.

A sense of warmth washed over you, mingled with fear and uncertainty. What should you do now? Should you confront Jungkook about the playlist, lay all your cards on the table and risk changing everything between you? Or should you keep quiet, pretend you never stumbled upon this precious list?

You knew there was something going on, you weren't stupid. But you couldn't bring yourself to accept the possibility that the guy you love, might like you back. It's easier to pretend like nothing is happening. You have built this whole imaginary life with him in your head, but not once did you consider that it might be a two-way street.

"I already said I'm in love with you Can't you hear me? Why do you act like you don't? You know well the spark in my eyes when I look at you Can't you see it? Why do you act like you don't?"

You had been listening to the song on repeat for an hour. It was stuck in your head. Your heart was aching.

The reality was finally sinking in.

"He's in love with me," you whispered to yourself, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. It explained so much—his kindness, his attentiveness, even his willingness to go along with making a stupid profile for a stupid dating app. But you had built walls around your heart, afraid to acknowledge the possibility that your feelings were reciprocated.

You felt a surge of emotions, a mix of joy and fear swirling inside you. Jungkook's unspoken confession through his playlist left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely hopeful.

"Falling" played softly through the speakers, its lyrics painting a picture of longing and uncertainty. It mirrored your own inner turmoil, the battle between fear and listening to your heart for once.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that this was just a friendship, that any romantic thoughts were one-sided. Now, faced with the truth, you didn't know what to do next. Should you tell Jungkook? Should you pretend you never saw the playlist?

Your mind raced with questions, but deep down, you knew you couldn't ignore this any longer. Jungkook's feelings were out in the open, laid bare through these songs that said a lot about his emotions.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. Each melody, each lyric felt like a confession, a plea for you to see what had been in front of you all along.

"I already said I'm in love with you," the lyrics repeated in your mind, echoing the words you longed to hear from Jungkook himself.

The weight of the situation settled over you. You constructed the exact same playlist on your own phone, replaying it endlessly, searching for answers in the same songs he had chosen. It became a ritual, a way to understand what Jungkook hadn't yet said aloud. Each track felt like a message, a confession hidden in plain sight.

As days passed, the playlist became a lifeline, a connection to Jungkook that transcended words. You wondered if he knew the impact his secret gesture had on you, if he realized how deeply you analyzed each song, each lyric, each subtle hint of affection.

It was as if the playlist had become a conversation between your hearts, a silent dialogue that spoke volumes about your unspoken emotions. You couldn't deny the truth any longer—the love you felt for Jungkook had bloomed quietly, nurtured by his unwavering presence in your life and it reflected in the selection of songs carefully chosen by him.

And so you continued to listen, to immerse yourself in the music that spoke of love and longing. It was a soundtrack to his emotions, a testament to the unspeakable love that had grown between you and him.

The guys had planned a small gathering at your house. Hoseok, Jimin and Tae arrived at the same time around 8:00 p.m. with food, drinks and Cards Against Humanity. They were already having fun when they rang the bell.

"Hey," you said as you opened the door.

"Hey!" they greeted you.

You all headed towards the living room and they placed the things they brought on the table.

You chuckled, feeling a wave of warmth at their enthusiasm. "Thanks for coming, guys. I've got the place ready—cleaned up only for you the other day," you teased, motioning towards the neatly arranged living room.

As you all settled in, chatting and unpacking the snacks and games, there was a noticeable absence. Jungkook hadn't arrived yet, and though you tried not to dwell on it, his absence didn't go unnoticed by your friends.

"Where's Jungkook?" Tae finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in the air.

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. "Not sure. He said he might be a bit late."

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Jimin. "Didn't he say he was gonna meet with someone from Tinder?"

"Tinder?"

"You know, the dating app," Tae chimed in, taking a bite of a snack.

"I know what Tinder is Tae,” you replied with a laugh, trying to keep your cool.

"So you didn't know he was on a date?"

"No, he didn't tell me. Are you serious? He's on a date right now?" Your voice came out louder than expected, and you cursed yourself for the slip.

Jimin frowned, concerned. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

You waved dismissively, trying to downplay the hurt and disappointment. "Yeah, all good... well, more food and games for us until he gets here."

You tried to push down the gnawing feeling of jealousy that threatened to surface at the thought of Jungkook on a date with someone else. The idea of him with another person stirred up emotions you had been trying so hard to accept the past days. You forced a smile as you joined in the banter and laughter, attempting to bury your own conflicting emotions.

Despite their casual remarks, you couldn't shake the unease settling in your stomach. You hoped Jungkook would arrive soon, eager for his presence to dispel the nervous tension building within you.

The minutes ticked by, filled with laughter and infinite jokes over Cards Against Humanity. Each time the doorbell rang, you found yourself tensing, hoping it was him. But each time, it turned out to be someone else—a delivery person, one of your neighbors...

As the evening progressed, you couldn't help but steal glances at your phone, checking for any messages from Jungkook. But you decided not to keep waiting and decided to send him a text first.

'whats taking you so longggggggg' it read.

He replied instantly. 'i'm outside, coming now'

You put down your phone, your heart pounding. A few seconds later, you heard familiar footsteps approaching and there was a knock on the door. You got up, heading towards the door.

"He's here!" Tae exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he jumped up to answer the door with you.

You held your breath as Jungkook stepped inside, a sheepish smile on his lips as he greeted everyone. His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down.

"Sorry I'm late guys," Jungkook said, setting down a bag of drinks next to Tae's.

Jimin smirked teasingly. "Lost track of time, huh?"

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haha nah,"

Absolutely not. It was a disaster. Why did I agree to this? She seemed nice enough online, he thought, but in person... It just wasn’t there. The conversation felt forced, and I couldn’t wait for it to end. He grimaced, recalling how he struggled to find common ground and forced a laugh at her jokes. I should've been with y/n tonight, helping her get everything ready for this.

Of course, all of that stayed in his head. He was embarrassed to tell everyone how much he hated meeting someone new. It would just give your friends the opening to tease him more about it.

"Well, you made it, and we're all here now. So let's start" you suggested, breaking the silence.

His eyes sought out yours, finding a mix of emotions reflected back at him—surprise, curiosity, and something he couldn't quite place.

Everyone nodded in agreement and moved to gather around the coffee table, pulling your cushions closer.

With Jungkook's presence, the gathering felt complete, as if a missing piece had been found.

And as you all laughed and played into the night, you couldn't ignore the way Jungkook's gaze lingered on you, a silent reassurance of the feelings you'd been trying to suppress.

"I'm going to take a photo of this." Tae announced, lifting up his beer.

You and the others followed suit, holding your drinks up and smiling. Jungkook on your right got closer to you for the picture, cheek to cheek, his scent surrounding you. You wanted to lean in and practically inhale him.

"Perfect." Tae snapped the shot, and then showed it to the group. "What do you think, everyone?"

Everyone agreed that it was a good photo.

"We all look great," Tae said.

"But not as good as those two," Hoseok joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Please."

"It's true," Hoseok insisted. "You guys look good together."

Jimin nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "They're right. You’d make a cute couple."

Jungkook felt shy at their words. It's not like he was trying to hide his feelings for you, but he hadn't exactly made his intentions known, either. It was frustrating, wanting to be closer to you but not knowing how.

At least it was encouraging to know that your closest friends were seeing you both that way. That meant he had hope, right?

"Okay, that's enough," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Let's keep playing."

As the game resumed, the group's attention shifted back to the cards.

You cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly on the cushion. "So... how was your date?"

Jungkook winced, not meeting your eyes. "It was okay," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

You bit your lip, curiosity gnawing at you. "Just okay? What happened?"

Jungkook shook his head, still not meeting your gaze. "I don't know. It just didn't feel right, I guess."

You tilted your head, searching his face. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face. "It was just... awkward. We didn't really click. I don't know."

Your chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside. "Oh," you managed, turning back to the game. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, you know? Meeting new people, going on dates. It's hard for me. I'd rather be with people I already know and trust."

You knew what he meant. The same went for you. It was hard enough trying to navigate your feelings without having to worry about other people, too.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I get it."

"I just wish it could be easier, you know? Like, finding someone you actually like who happens to also like you back, and not having to worry about anything else. Just enjoying each other's company."

Your breath caught, your mind reeling from his words. And from the way he was looking at you, you could tell he wasn't just talking about friendship.

"Why would you say something like that?" you questioned, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Jungkook's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Say something like what?"

"That you wish you could be with someone who actually likes you and not have to worry about anything else."

"I... because it's true. I don't want to go on stupid dates anymore, I want to be with someone I care about. Someone I can laugh and have fun with."

You swallowed, your pulse quickening.

"Someone like who?"

Jungkook exhaled, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I think you know who," he said quietly.

You stared at him, speechless, as his words sunk in. Your heart was racing, your body buzzing with adrenaline.

Hoseok, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly made himself heard, "I think I'm stuck in your bathroom!"

You and Jungkook turned to find your friend, who sounded flustered and slightly panicked. Jimin and Tae burst into laughter, trying to contain themselves as Hoseok continued to tug at the bathroom door.

"What do you mean you're stuck?" Jimin managed to ask between giggles.

Hoseok yelled helplessly. "I went in to use the bathroom, and now the door won't open!"

Jungkook glanced at you with a bemused smile, the tension from earlier dissipating with the absurdity of the situation. "Seriously, Hobi?" he chuckled.

Hoseok sounded exasperated. "It's not funny! How am I supposed to get out of here?"

"I'll go get some tools," Tae offered, still chuckling as he headed towards the kitchen.

You stepped closer to the bathroom door, trying to assess the situation. "It's just stuck. Let me try," you suggested, reaching for the handle and giving it a firm tug.

To everyone's surprise, the door swung open easily, revealing Hoseok looking both relieved and slightly embarrassed. "Oh, thanks, I swear it was stuck…"

Jimin clapped Hoseok on the back, still laughing. "Sure it was, Hobi. Sure."

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur of laughter and games, and despite the lingering awkwardness from earlier, you were glad that the night had gone well.

It was close to 2:00 a.m. when your friends finally began to call it a night, and you were exhausted.

"Thanks again for coming, everyone. I had a lot of funnnn," you said, giving them each a hug goodbye.

Jungkook was still on your kitchen helping you clean up all the mess you made. Drying the dishes and placing the glasses on your cabinets. You were cleaning up the table when he walked up to you.

"Need any help?"

"I'm done, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, thanks Kookie,"

You started walking towards your room when you heard him speak up.

"I really liked being here tonight."

"I know it was a lot of fun," you replied with a small smile. You grabbed his hoodie and his iPod to return them. Staring at the endearing device. Almost as if it were something fragile.

"I'm glad you had a good time," you responded as you walked back to the kitchen, handing him back his belongings. As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jungkook's gaze was intense as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.

Jungkook paused his moves, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I was thinking... maybe we could hang out again this week, just the two of us."

"What about the girl from Tinder?" you asked as you returned to face him, your tone sharper than you intended.

Jungkook frowned, confusion clouding his features. "What are you talking about? You know I went on one date. I told you it was a disaster."

You sighed, suddenly feeling foolish. "Yeah, I know, don't know why I asked that, haha" you muttered. "Didn't know you still used this thing,"

He smiled, his fingers brushing over the iPod. "I still love my music in here, you know, it sounds a lot better"

"Yeah, that's what I thought,"

He looked at you intently, and the air between you seemed to grow heavy.

"I've missed spending time with you, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. "Me too," you whispered.

"So, is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?"

"The offer to hang out,"

"Oh, right. Um, yeah, sure. Sounds nice."

Jungkook's face lit up. "Cool. Well, I guess I'll see you later, then." With a final smile, he turned and left.

You watched him go and your mind was spinning. Jungkook's words echoed in your head, his words sending a flutter through your chest. You couldn't help but grin. Maybe there was hope for you two after all.

The following day, you woke up to the sun streaming in through your curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You stretched lazily, savoring the warmth of your bed, before reluctantly climbing out and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Unconciously, you began to shut yourself out. You had spent the whole night awake, thoughts about the possibility of being with your best friend swirling around your head, preventing you from falling asleep.

As you brushed your teeth, you heard your phone buzz. It was a text from him.

'Good morning'

A smile tugged at your lips, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

'good morning'

'can we go out today? im craving pizza'

You bit your lip, considering the invitation. A part of you was eager to see him, but another part was worried that it might be awkward, especially after the scenarios you created in your head last night.

You ended up refusing to go out with him. And he started to get anxious. He thought he may have done something wrong. That you were actually angry for going on a date or that you no longer wanted him to be part of your life just because he went out with someone else.

Jungkook started panicking.

And so, he called the guys.

"I don't know, she's just not acting normal." he sighed.

"Did something happen the other night?" Hoseok asked, concerned.

"No, I don't think so. She didn't say anything to me,"

"So why is she mad at you?"

"I have no idea. I was hoping maybe you had an idea,"

"Did she say she was mad at you?"

"Not directly, but she didn't want to go out today,"

"Well, I'm not surprised. She's probably just tired,"

"Tired?"

"Yeah, from work and all that, she's probably exhausted. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Do you think so? You don't think she's mad at me?"

"I really don't think she is. She'll probably just want to rest for a few days, and then things will go back to normal."

Your attitude changed so suddenly. You kept on cancelling on him. It’s been weeks.

"You have to talk to her, man," Jimin said.

"What do I say? How do I bring it up? Do I just ask her why she's been avoiding me? What if she doesn't know what I'm talking about?"

"Then ask her. Don't overthink it. Just say it."

Jungkook sighed, frustrated. "You make it sound so easy,"

"Look, I'm not gonna lie to you. It's probably gonna be awkward as fuck, but you can't let it get in the way of your friendship. You've been friends for so long, and it's obviously important to both of you. If she really is mad at you, then you need to find out what's going on. But if she's not, then you need to clear the air and move on. Because otherwise, this is just gonna keep getting worse and worse for you."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just... worried, I guess."

"I know, but don't be. Everything’s fine. It’ll work out, especially if you let her know that you like her."

"What? Are you crazy? I can't just tell her that."

"Why not?"

"Because... what if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"So what if she doesn't? You'll never know unless you tell her. And if she does feel the same way, then you can finally stop being all sad and pathetic."

"You think she likes me?"

"Well, only she can tell you that, but you'll never know if you don't talk to her. So suck it up and go for it."

"Fine. I'll talk to her."

"Good."

"But... how do I tell her?"

"Just be honest. Tell her you've been worried that something is wrong, and you want to make sure everything is okay. Then let her know how you feel. But, be prepared for her reaction. If she doesn't feel the same way, it could make things weird. But you need to deal with it and move on."

That same day you were laying down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Reading over and over the lyrics of one particular song on the playlist.

"Is there a place for me? Is there a place for us? I can't tell you how much I love you, babe Open the door Open your heart Tell me how you're feeling, I miss you so bad I'm falling to pieces"

And just like that, your phone began vibrating, your heart beating rapidly as his name flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you free? Can we talk?"

"Uhm... sure, yeah. Now?"

"If it's okay, yes."

"Okay,"

"I'm coming up now."

"Wait, wha-..."

Jungkook was already at your door, knocking frantically. You opened it for him, your heart in your throat.

He stood before you, looking determined. His eyes were wide, his hair tousled, and he was out of breath, as if he had just run a marathon.

"Sorry, I was already on my way. I had to do it now. I have to say it, because otherwise, I won't have the courage to say it some other time,"

"Okay?"

He inhaled deeply, his eyes locked on yours.

"Y/N, I really, really like you. And I've been so confused and conflicted because I've always liked you, then I started thinking that maybe there was more. And then I realized there was. I really, really like you."

You swallowed hard, the words ringing in your ears.

"I-..."

"It's okay, I just wanted you to know,"

You shook your head, struggling to comprehend what he had just told you. "I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But I had to say it."

"So, does this mean... what are you saying exactly?"

Jungkook hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Y/N, I don't expect anything from you, and I don't want things to get weird. But I just had to tell you. I'm crazy about you."

You nodded slowly, processing his words. "uh. I-... uh."

"I know it's sudden, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. But I don't want anything to change, I promise. I'll just go, and we can forget this ever happened. We can go back to the way things were, I promise. I'm sorry,"

"Jungkook, stop apologizing. It's not a bad thing, I'm just... processing. I've never had anyone say they're crazy about me before," with your phone in your hand an idea immediately came to you.

"Can I show you something?" you asked him.

"What is it?"

You walked up to him, your phone in your hand. You handed him your device and let him see your screen. There it was, the infamous playlist.

Jungkook's doe eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips as he noticed. "What... is this...?"

"I went through your iPod when you left your hoodie last time," you told him with an embarrassed grin. "They’re the same songs you have on yours,"

"This is so embarrassing," he groaned, his cheeks red. "You... you went through my iPod?" Jungkook asked, now with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that he wasn't angry about it. "I was curious about the music you listen to. And I found… this,”

He stared at the playlist, then back at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So... does that mean you... already knew how I felt?" Jungkook asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

Your heart raced at his words, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling inside you. Could this really be happening? Could your long-standing friendship truly be blossoming into something more?

"Jungkook," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I like you too. More than just a friend."

"So what does this mean? That we are supposed to be together?"

"Maybe, or maybe not. It could just mean that you have great taste in music and I admire it,"

Jungkook's eyes widened with hope, a grin spreading across his face. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was afraid of ruining everything between us."

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Me too, I’m sorry for making you worry these past few days,"

"Can I hug you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook held onto you tightly, his arms snug around your waist. You rested your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes and inhaling his familiar scent.

After a few moments, he pulled away slightly, his hands still resting on your hips.

He looked at you with a mix of relief and uncertainty in his eyes. "So, I didn't ruin anything between us?" he murmured softly.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You didn't ruin anything, Jungkook. If anything, you've made everything clearer."

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, a hint of a smile returning to his face. "I'm glad."

"I'm glad too," you began again, your voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "But I also want you to know that... I've been thinking a lot too."

Jungkook turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension. "About...?"

"About us," you admitted softly, meeting his gaze. "About how much I enjoy spending time with you, about how much I admire you, and... how I've felt something more than just friendship for a while now."

His eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them. "A while?”

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Yes, Jungkook. A while. I've just been afraid to say anything because I didn't want to lose you in case you didn't felt the same way about me."

He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out tentatively. "Y/N... I wish I had known sooner. I've been struggling with these feelings, not knowing if you felt the same way."

"I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier," you murmured, your fingers brushing against his. "But I'm glad we're talking about it now."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "Me too. More than anything."

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your shared emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Jungkook spoke again, his voice filled with determination.

"So... what do we do now?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a surge of affection for him. "I think we take it one step at a time. We've already taken a big step today."

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just... really happy right now."

"Me too," you said, squeezing his hand.

"I guess the only question now is... are we... together together?" he asked hesitantly.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. "Only if you want us to be,"

"Yes, yes, yes. Of course, yes,"

"Then it's settled. We're together," you giggled.

Jungkook laughed, the sound sending a warm feeling through your chest.

Cut to 4 years in the future.

There you were at a dinner with friends and family. It had been four years since you got together, but it felt like an eternity. You both were so excited for each other, for your life from now on.

"Hey, you got a little something," he whispered, brushing away a strand of hair from your cheek.

You couldn't help but smile, his touch as tender as ever. "Thanks,"

"No problem," he smiled.

Then you could hear someone clinking a glass. "A few words from the fiancé!" Jin's voice reverberated through the dimly lit restaurant.

"Y-yeah, yeah," your boyfriend stuttered, clearing his throat and standing up. He was a nervous wreck, and it was adorable.

"Um, first, thank you all for being here. It really means a lot to us. We know how important it is to have your loved ones around you on a special day, and we're so grateful for everyone who's supported us. Second, a special thanks to my future father and mother-in-law. Thank you for always being there for us and for supporting our relationship. And, um, thanks to my own parents for, uh, also supporting us."

As the guests began to laugh, your boyfriend cleared his throat and continued, his gaze fixed on yours.

"But most importantly, I want to say thank you to my amazing girlfriend. Thank you for making every day better. Thank you for always being by my side and for loving me unconditionall—"

"We know that already! Entertain us or I won't pay the bill!" Jin's loud voice interrupted again.

You couldn't help but chuckle and the guests laughed again, amused.

Your fiancé smiled, clearly enjoying the teasing.

"Alright, alright," Jungkook cleared his throat before he continued, "actually, we agreed that we'd never tell anyone how we actually got together but I guess we're past that, right babe?"

"Oh no, don't!" You blushed, a little embarrassed.

"It's a funny story," he continued. "It's kind of a long one, but this girl right here thought that the best course of action was to make me a dating app profile before telling me that she was in love with me."

Everyone burst into laughter.

"I was dumb, okay?" you joked, earning more laughter from the guests.

"So, we ended up talking to some people on said dating app and went on a few dates, which were terrible—"

"Hey! It's not my fault that you agreed even though you were also in love with me!" — "Everyone, he had a playlist with my name filled with sentimental songs like the most lovesick boy on Earth!"

"But babe trust me, it's a great playlist, by the way," you added.

"And then we got drunk, and the truth was revealed."

"What?! No way," Hoseok laughed.

"We weren’t drunk, I’m kidding, I just told her that I had liked her since the beginning," he said. "We just made a disaster, and we were both scared shitless."

"But here we are," you added.

"So, yeah, thanks for coming everyone," your fiancé concluded, his voice breaking a little as he wrapped up his little speech.

You could see him trying to blink back tears as he sat back down next to you, and you gave his hand a squeeze.

"You did great," you whispered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.

Your parents got up, taking the floor after him.

"Thank you, thank you," your mom said, a bit embarrassed.

"We’d like to share a few words as well. First, we'd like to thank everyone for coming. It's such a privilege to have all our family and friends here, and we're so thankful for your support. And we're especially grateful for our beautiful daughter and our soon-to-be son-in-law. We are so proud of both of you, and we know you'll have a long and happy life together."

"Thanks," you managed to say, overcome with emotion.

"So, now, we'd like to present the couple with a little something. It's just a small token of our love for them," your mother added, signaling for someone to come forward.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Tae stood up from the table and approached the stage, each of them holding a framed collage.

"Here, you can pass these out," your mother said, handing each of the guests copies of the photos.

You and your fiancé were stunned as the three guys presented the photos to you.

The photos were a collage of different memories: you and him during his graduation, another one from yours, a candid shot of him cooking for you, a photo of the two of you smiling in front of the sunset, and a picture of him holding your hand while you were asleep.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the beautiful photos, each one capturing a special moment in your relationship. The love and happiness radiating from the images made your heart feel full to the brim. You glanced at Jungkook, whose eyes were also glistening with unshed tears, and you reached for his hand, holding it tightly.

"Thank you so much," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion. "These are... perfect."

"I have a gift for you too," you told him, reaching under the table. You brought out a box wrapped in bright pink paper and a bow.

He looked at you with surprise, his eyes shining with curiosity as he took the box from your hands. Slowly unwrapping it, his mouth fell open in astonishment when he saw what was inside. Nestled within the box was a beautifully crafted watch, the silver band gleaming under the soft light of the restaurant.

"Oh wow," he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... it's incredible."

"It's engraved," you whispered, pointing to the back of the watch where a message was etched. His eyes widened as he read the words: 'Forever yours, Y/N.'

"I was hoping you'd wear it to the wedding," you said, grinning. "But don't cry, you'll make me cry!" you exclaimed.

"I'm not crying, I just..." he trailed off, sniffling.

"I love it," Jungkook finally managed to say, his voice filled with emotion. He stood up abruptly and pulled you into a tight hug, “I love you.”

As you both separated, there was a collective 'aww' from the guests, making you both blush.

The rest of the evening continued with laughter and joy, surrounded by the love of friends and family. People danced, sang, and shared stories late into the night. It was a celebration of love and new beginnings.

As the night winded down and guests started to leave, you found yourselves standing alone in the dimly lit space. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close.

"Thank you for everything today," you said sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

"Thank you for being mine," he replied softly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness.

"I wouldn't want to be anyone else's," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Jungkook cupped your face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of the deepest affection you’ve ever felt.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts au #bts members #bts x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook #Spotify

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vmpiires · 9 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!choso, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; choso’s mind has been spiraling for a couple days now. the fact that you wrote your phone number down on his hand had him going. he wanted to call you. he wanted to text you. but he just couldn’t. in order to be sanitary, he’d write the number down again on a sticky note and scrubbed the ink off his skin. he didn’t have time for a lover…but he felt like making time for you.

₊❏❜ ⋮ part one ⌒

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.33K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; idk how long this story will stretch but if ya like it,, i’ll make more parts to it. not too many though. i wanna get to geto too (as promised). hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D (also lmk if you wanna be tagged for possible upcoming parts if i decide to continue)

another note: i finally made a masterlist. that shit took me 5 HOURS to make because i was fixing and adding so much stuff. i just wanted it to be pretty. ya should go look at it :P and should i make a AO3??? i see so many writers with them and i was wondering if i should do that too..

final note: guys,, remember this is my personal twist on the mid 90’s era so some things from current time will be put into the story (such as the ability to text without emailing one another or using a pager, familiar current time songs that are added into the 90’s era of this story, certain tv shows/movies that came after the 90’s)

₊❏❜ ⋮ continue to part three ⌒

“choso, we should make the house look like a haunted house!” itadori suggests. october was the season of spooks and scares (as yuji put it) and choso wasn’t into festivities that much but if he had to do it to make his little brother happy, he would do it.

the boys make their way to the nearby department store, letting yuji pick out what decorations should be put up in the house. for a little boy, choso didn’t even even pick up how significantly scary the items were because yuji wasn’t shitting himself out of fear.

“uh…yuji, i know you said you wanted the place to look like a haunted house…are you sure you won’t freak yourself out and start crying?” choso said, stifling his laughter.

“i’m not gonna cry.” yuji crossed his arms. “and i’m not scared of some dumb clowns. they’re just decorations, anyway.”

yuji was more mature than he looked…in the aspect of fear. he was a small boy but things didn’t scare him easily. you could say he’s a risk taker outside his moments of vulnerability. choso knew that he’d might jump back behind him, tightly holding the hem his tan sweater if he saw kechizu. the male finally smiles at the pink haired boy and nods.

“you’re right. they’re fake.” choso says calmly.

as they approach the checkout area, yuji sees the food area. serving simple things like pizza, hotdogs and drinks. the stuff you’d find at a concession stand of a sports game.

“can we get a pizza?” yuji asked. choso paused. he didn’t intend on spending 13 dollars on food from a department store. he had other plans anyway.

“you sure you want that? i was gonna get you a happy meal before we went home.” the male yawned, threading his fingers through his hair. the sudden mention of a happy meal excites yuji like a child on christmas morning.

“never mind, i don’t want pizza.” itadori quickly switches. choso chuckled, knowing how easy it was to get yuji to think about his choices.

“aw, cute kid,” choso heard a voice behind him. the male whipped his head around, his brown hair following along with him, only to see you standing there with a smile.

“is this your little brother?”

choso flushed a red color when he instantly remembered your face, almost making him feel bad for not calling you or texting you since you dropped off your number to him. he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

“uh..yeah, that’s—this is yuji.” he stumbles a bit, trying not to make his embarrassment known. itadori already knows the deal, so he waves at you with a big toothy grin, making you smile and wave back at him.

“um..what’re you doing here?” choso queried, trying to spark a conversation first for once. the male was obviously nervous and you could see his cheeks reddening the more he looked at you. if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he would explode right in front of your eyes.

“shopping, like everyone else,” you teased. “but really, i just gotta pick some stuff up for my mom and then i’ll be on my way.”

your eyes travel over to the shopping cart that yuji was clinging onto, looking at the halloweeny decorations and you smile.

“you don’t seem like the type to be into holidays really,” you start, “did your brother convince you?”

choso also looked at the shopping cart full of stuff and blushed even harder. he was already flustered enough. it couldn’t get any worse than this.

“oh—no..he didn’t,” he chuckled nervously, “i actually really like halloween. the scary shit—stuff…you know, the movies? they’re cool.”

you giggled at choso’s nervous attempts to speak to you about the festivities that he almost never participated in and the quick fix with his mistake of swearing in front of yuji like he wasn’t there.

“oh, so you like horror movies? yeah, you strike me as that kind of guy.” you said. you couldn’t help but notice his medium length hair, just like you had seen the other night when he was working, flowing in the wind that came through as the store doors slowly slid themselves open as customers exited the building.

the male wore an oversized tan sweater with a pair of joggers and some sneakers. you could tell this was a lazy outfit. something you’d call a ‘no one will see me’ outfit.

his eyes were tired and he had a stoic expression, aside from his profuse blushing that began to die down when he finally got the chance to relax, having his hands shoved down into his pant pockets. his irises were so pretty. a pretty shade of purple. you never seen anyone’s eyes look like his before.

the silence prolonged for a moment. the two of you suddenly ran out of things to say. this was perfectly fine for choso. he would’ve lost his mind if he had to keep talking. it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy talking to you. he was just too scared.

but it wasn’t long before that silence was disturbed.

“my big brother really likes you. he thinks you’re pre—” itadori starts before choso swiftly covers his mouth with his significantly larger hand, making you giggle once more.

“i’m sorry about that…yuji just likes to say random stuff when the silence is too loud for him.” choso said trying to cover up his embarrassment.

“it’s okay,” you smiled at him. your words seemed to ease his nerves a bit but it wasn’t enough to completely calm him down. you glance down at your phone when you feel it vibrate against your thigh.

it’s your mom texting you, asking if you’re on your way back.

“oh, sh—shoot,” you say, quickly fixing your mistake before you actually said it. “i gotta go. my mom just texted.”

choso is quickly snapped out of his embarrassment trance and his head swings over to look at you, his hair following along.

“you’re going?” he asked. through his dead and serious expression, you could see a hint of sadness. a very small change in his usual expression. you nod.

“yeah. but listen, you should call me. you don’t have my number just to stare at it.” you remarked before hurrying off, waving at him as you did.

once you were out of his sight, his eyes quickly struck down to yuji. he looked like he wanted to scold the poor boy for publicly embarrassing him in front of you but he decided against it and his expression softened.

“let’s just get home…” the male sighed.

choso was happy it’s his day off. he got to stay home with his little brother to help decorate their home with terrifying decorations for halloween. choso couldn’t help but smile at yuji’s futile attempts to scare him with the masks from the store.

“come on, you aren’t even a little scared?” yuji removed the mask from his face and shook his head to fix his hair, which was flattened and sticking to his forehead.

“not even in the slightest.” choso chuckled before ruffling itadori’s hair lightly. “what about your friends? you try to scare them yet?”

“megumi is almost never impressed. he’s kinda lame….and out of the question.” yuji hummed. “but i can get nobara. she’s always screaming.”

“well, you can do that tomorrow,” choso yawned, “you gotta get ready for bed soon. you got school in the morning and i don’t want you to be tired and falling asleep in class.”

yuji frowned before he’d hug choso. it took a moment for choso to process the moment, given that he wasn’t too used to being hugged. choso finally hugged the boy back before smiling softly.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

yuji nodded and smiled back at his older brother before making his way to his room.

when yuji had finally gone to sleep, the house was quiet, leaving choso staring at the ceiling with his hair in disarray and an unlit cigarette between his lips all while he laid on the bed, doing maladaptive night dreaming.

‘workin out’ by JID played softly from the small radio that sat on the windowsill. his eyes slowly traveled over to the shoe box that stood out from all the other boxes in his closet. there was a bright yellow sticky note at the top with what seemed to have your phone number on it along with your name.

the male sat up on the bed and walked over to the box, snatching the sticky note from the box then walking over to his laptop that sat on the umber colored desk.

choso opened the laptop and navigated to the facetime app and decided to punch in your number. he could feel his stomach turning as the low adverb jingling sound repeated itself.

while he waited for you to answer, he’d take one of the rubber bands off of his wrist and tie his hair back, leaving his bangs to hang down in his face. he even took the time to fix the violet eyeshadow that he always had around his eyes, staining his fingers each time he touched around his eyelids. and finally, he’d press down on the bandage over his nose to make sure it was still sticking.

you suddenly pick up, finally answering choso’s call. your room was a bit dark like his, except you had your tv going on in the background. it was loud enough for choso to be able to hear.

unlike choso, you were sitting on your bed with your laptop. you had your hair tied up in twin messy buns with a little bit of your hair hanging down in your face. you wore a black spaghetti strap tank top, revealing the tattoo on your shoulder, and a pair of grey joggers with mismatch socks.

“i honestly did not hear this thing going off,” you giggled as you pushed the hair out of your face. you had been downstairs grabbing yourself a drink while choso was calling. “i’m sorry i didn’t answer right away, though.”

“oh..no, it’s fine. you aren’t busy are you?”

“no, not really. i was thinking about finishing this show i was watching. have you heard of american horror story?”

“yeah, i heard of it. i just never got around to watching it. i’d rather watch movies than an ongoing series.” choso explained simply before he’d light his cigarette. you nod, completely understanding his side.

“shit, well, what movies do you recommend? horror movies, since we’re in spooky season.” you flash a cheeky smile at him. choso’s heart skips a beat when you finally ask him what he’s interested in. he pauses and begins thinking, taking drags from his cigarette.

“there’s one movie, i can’t tell you all of em off the top of my head,” he begins, “watch midsommar. it’s kinda disturbing but you might like it.”

“is it gory horror or..?” you ask before taking a sip of your drink as you began to type in the movie name into the search bar in another tab, scrolling through websites to catch any good details about said movie.

“you’ll have to see for yourself,” choso places two of his digits around the cigarette, gently adjusting it between his lips before it could slip out. you realize the longer you talked to him, the more comfortable he seemed to be but you could still see that he was nervous.

“maybe we can see about it together,” you suggest to the male. “whenever you’re free, of course.” you add quickly. all of a sudden, choso is blushing just as he did at the store earlier that day. you thought it was kinda adorable how he could look so disinterested to suddenly flustered and scared so quickly.

“i—well..” choso stammered, “yeah, sure…uh, we can watch tomorrow night when i put my little brother to bed. i don’t want him interrupting anything.”

you giggled, “aw, he’s so cute, though. but i get it. little kids can get in the way of a lot of stuff.”

the two of you conversed for what felt like hours. your voice was soothing to choso. each time you began to speak, he just imagined you calling his name…just once.

your call with choso ended around three in the morning, and your cheeks were pink, smiling to yourself as you remembered the random conversations that you two had not too long ago.

you hadn’t felt like this about a guy in a long time. while men were usually throwing themselves at you, choso was clearly the odd one out. he was a bit shy but assertive and smart.

choso’s voice was deep as it came from the depths of the ocean but his words flowed smoothly like butter when he wasn’t tripping and fumbling with his words trying to hide his embarrassment.

his style, his personality, the way he looked. in your eyes he was perfect but there were a million things stopping you from telling him you loved him.

what if he has a girlfriend already? what if he isn’t ready for a relationship? what if he doesn’t want one? he probably just wants to be friends.

aside from all those thoughts clogging your brain, you were aware that you’d be moving to fast by throwing that L word around loosely when you just met him a couple days ago.

“damn it.” choso sighed to himself.

‘you’re falling for her…but you don’t have time for her. what’re you doing?’ choso was beating himself up about the whole entire situation. another cigarette is taken out of the pack and lightened as he tried to calm his anxiety and spiraling thoughts.

he was going crazy. he didn’t know what he would do. he wanted you out of his head. he was starting to feel stupid for letting you swoon him as easily as you did at the bar.

part of him wished he never met you…

but he needed more of you.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

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dinas-a-bird · 1 year

Text

Prove it

Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, fingering r!receiving, pet-name (pretty girl, good girl, princess), top!Ellie, bottom!reader, mean!Ellie, I apologize in advance for the whole Jesse thing (I swear I love him), modern AU

Summary: You prove to Ellie that you're not scared.

Word Count: 1,478

A/N: I hate this- Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

You had always considered yourself to be a "good girl". You studied hard, followed the rules, and rarely strayed from the straight and narrow. But as soon as you saw her at the party, you knew that everything was about to change.

The girl in question is sitting on a couch, surrounded by a cloud of smoke. She has a tattoo scaling up her right arm, her eyes a bright green that seem to glow in the dim light. As soon as she sees you, she smirks and beckons you over with a nod of her head. You shake your your in turn, but her smirk only grows. You see her pat the spot next to her. You hesitate, but in the end curiosity wins and you walk over and sit down next to her.She says nothing.

"What?" you say.

"I thought you might want a joint. Will even give you the pretty girl discount if you're nice." She smirks at you pulling a joint out of her bag. "Want to try it?"

"I've never smoked before." You glance down at the joint in her hands.

"What mommy and daddy going to be mad that you're smoking at a college party?" She jokes. The lean girl lights the joint and takes a long drag.

"I don't know if I'd even like that," looking down at the joint your mind races. Nobody would care if I just took one hit right? My parents would never have to find out.

The auburn haired girl holds the joint out to you, "Last chance for the pretty girl discount," a smirk plays on her lips. You hesitate for a moment before taking the joint from her. She smiles. You feel your throat burn as you take the first puff, for a moment you feel like the world is spinning.

"You okay?" She asks. You nod, the pain slowly subsides and you feel lightheaded. You look up and find yourself met with her green eyes.

"I'm Ellie by the way," she takes the joint from your fingers and presses it against her own lips, inhaling deeply.

"y/n."

She takes a long puff and exhales, staring at the ceiling. "What's a pretty girl like you doing at a frat party like this, y/n?"

You shrug. "My boyfriend, Jesse, he brought me."

"Oh, how sweet. Yet here you are, smoking with me." Ellie takes another hit, looking over at you. "You're the prettiest girl here. Why are you with some jock?" Ellie looks at you a small glint of something you can't quite place flashing in her eyes.

You are about to respond when she cuts you off. "You should be with someone better than some pussy thirsty jock." She looks at you and meets your eyes.

You feel your cheeks heat up, "what?"

"I'm just saying. I don't know why you're with him." Ellie takes another hit before handing the joint back to you. You take a long drag, starting to enjoy the feeling of the smoke filling your lungs.

"He's good for me." You retort, putting the joint back in her hand.

"Y'know what I think y/n. I think you're scared. Scared of not being seen as miss perfect, so you trot around with your pretty little jock boyfriend." She leans closer to you, you can feel her hot breath against your face.

"I'm not scared." You try.

"Bullshit." She scoffs, taking a drag on the joint. "You're scared, but that's okay, I can change that."

You turn to look at Ellie, who is now staring at you with her tongue wetting her bottom lip, "I'm not scared."

"Prove it." Ellie's eyes pierce into your own. You press your lips against hers and for a moment everything seems to fade away. Pulling away from her soon after you look around, trying to see if anyone noticed. Thankfully, it seems that nobody did.

"I can prove it." You say, looking back to her. "I'm not scared."

Ellie stands up and offers her hand, "then come with me if you're so desperate for me to believe you." You hesitantly take Ellie's hand, she pulls you up from the couch, leading you past the drunken party goers and into an empty room upstairs.

Once inside, Ellie looks you over. She is wearing worn blue jeans and a tight black top, which contrasts against her pale skin. She looks at you expectantly.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" She asks.

You stare at her for a moment going over the situation in your head. Hesitantly you nod, "Yes."

Ellie smirks, "take your clothes off for me then pretty girl."

A few seconds pass, before you slowly slip your arms out of your blouse and let it fall to the floor, discarding your pants next to it. You unhook your bra and pull your underwear down your legs, tossing them over into the pile of discarded clothing.

Ellie studies you, her eyes running up and down your body. You feel your cheeks flush as she takes you in. Your wetness coats the inside of your thighs as her hands start palm your breasts. You try to move away from her, but Ellie grabs your shoulders, holding you in place.

"Relax." She whispers in your ear. "I won't hurt you... m'gonna make you feel good." An unwanted whine leaves your lips. Ellie looks up at you with a smirk, "You want that?"

You nod shyly.

"Then relax for me pretty girl, just do what I tell you to ." She whispers again. "Get on the bed for me." Ellie leads you to the bed, and you lay down, looking at her as she takes off her top. Ellie hovers over you, looking down at you with a smirk. "You're so pretty… I'm going to take my time with you." She moves down and you feel your heart race as she bites your bottom lip. You can feel her hand between your legs, which makes you tense. "I thought you said you weren't scared." Ellie looks down at you.

"m’not." You try to say, but she cuts you off.

"Then be good for me." Ellie moves her hand up to your lips, you open your mouth slowly, taking her digits in. Ellie smiles, "Good girl." She slowly fucks your mouth with her fingers. You let out a quiet whine as she does this, until she removes her hand and looks down at you. "You're a good girl aren't you?" Ellie husks. All you can manage is another whine in response. Ellie laughs softly as she moves down to your throat. She begins to suck at your neck, biting gently. You can feel your body tingling as she does this, your hips moving involuntarily, trying to find any friction.

"Patience." Ellie says, pinching your nipple between her fingers harshly. "I'll make you feel good." Ellie pauses, before taking your other nipple in her mouth. She bites and licks at it, making you shiver. Her other hand moves to your pussy, running her middle finger through your folds. Ellie begins to finger you, slowly moving two fingers in and out. You feel your hips begin to move in time with her fingers, your body writhing against the bed as you begin to move towards an orgasm.

"You're so wet for me." She whispers in your ear. "You're going to cum aren't you?" You nod weakly and Ellie stops her fingers, staring down at you. "Not yet princess." Ellie grabs your chin and forces you to look up at her. "I'm going to ruin you for Jesse. You won't be able to look at him without picturing me." She kisses you, her tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You feel her fingers slowly move up to your clit, rubbing it harshly. Ellie begins to pinch it, making you arch your back against the bed.

"Fuck me… please Ellie.” You whimper.

"M'gonna make you mine. Make sure everyone in this house knows who you belong to." You don't have the time to think about the words she just said to you, instead you moan her name as she thrusts her fingers deep inside of you. Your body tenses, as you begin to cum. Your hips buck against the bed, your head spinning as Ellie continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Your breathing slows, until Ellie's hand stops, her fingers slowly exiting you.

"You'll be mine soon enough." Ellie smirks, before leaning down and kissing you. After she pulls away she grabs her shirt off the ground, pulling it over her head. "Maybe, next time I'll let you return the favor," She winks at you before walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.

You're left in the dark room, mind racing, you know you should be wanting to get back down to your boyfriend, confess to what happened, but all you think about are her last words, next time.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x female y/n #female y/n #female reader #reader insert #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #mean ellie #smut #dinas-a-bird #tlou2 fanfic #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #fanfiction

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karleksmumskladdkaka · 4 months

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 7 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: “Sleeping Together ★ With Vampire"

Audio

No, not that kind of sleeping together.

...And yet somehow not really the other kind either because despite it's title there is LITTLE TO NO SLEEPING TOGETHER GOING ON AT ALL except at the very end TᴖT TᴖT TᴖT My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

Ok ok I'm obviously being overdramatic. Misleading name aside the CD is enjoyable and cute just...not at all in the way I was expecting (that being something akin to the Sleeping Vampire Scenario from Vandead Carnival but, alas, no). But oh well, I got to hear Ruki be all deredere towards the end so it's fine I guess lol

Ideally I'd create an actual translation to go along with this (I might do so sometime in the future, unless someone more competent does it first) but for now I've put a summary of the story under the cut. I ask that you please have mercy on me though, I am not used to writing this kind of stuff and it probably shows >﹏<;

Regardless, I hope you enjoy ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉ ⋆⁺₊☽⁺₊⋆

UPDATE: The CD now has an actual translation courtesy of my fellow Ruki stan @otomehonyaku o(^o^)o please go check it out if you haven't already!

[Disclaimer: I always allow my stuff to be used for translation purposes, as long as I am credited. But please do not reupload the audio anywhere]

Summary ~*×*☆*+*~

[Please note that there may be mistakes or I might've misinterpreted parts of the CD. I apologize in advance (╥﹏╥)]

The CD starts with Ruki encountering Yui, who is carrying an unusually large package. Curious, Ruki asks her what she's doing, and learns that Kou has tasked her with delivering the package to him (Ruki). Ruki is somewhat perplexed as he doesn't recall requesting anything of the kind. Yui suggests that it might be a surprise gift, but Ruki is skeptical. He wants to ask Kou directly but is reminded that he is currently away on a location shoot. With a resigned sigh, Ruki decides that he has no choice but to open the package in Kou's absence. He asks Yui to hand the package to him, and then invites her to come along to his room to find out what's inside. She eagerly accepts, and they head off together.

In Ruki's room they take a seat (on what I assume to be the sofa) and open the package. Inside, there are various wooden pieces resembling parts of something, along with a letter from Kou. Ruki reads the letter aloud and it's revealed that the package contains a (*drumroll*)... puzzle! And not just any puzzle but a ✨️3D puzzle✨️. In the letter Kou encourages Ruki and Yui to assemble the parts together to discover what they will form. Since he's got spare time on his hands Ruki decides to have a go at it, with Yui joining in.

After a while of working on the puzzle, Ruki asks Yui how her part is coming along. She shows him, and he comments that she's doing better than he anticipated. He helps her out with some difficult pieces before instructing her to continue on her own. Yui asks Ruki if this is his first time putting together a 3D puzzle, and he replies that he's tried some before, but that this particular type is new to him. Yui is eager to learn what it is they are building, and Ruki, not wanting to dampen her anticipation, pretends he still can't quite figure out what the finished thing will be either (awww ♡). Ruki suggests that rather than moving their mouths they should focus on moving their hands as with their current pace the puzzle won't be finished. He reasons that the faster they move the sooner they'll have their curiosity satisfied. Yui agrees to work faster and Ruki promises to do the same.

They pick up the pace and eventually the puzzle is done. The assembled pieces have formed a small foreign castle, and Ruki reveals that he suspected as much from the start. He surmises that Kou must have remembered their expressed desire to visit such a castle after seeing one by chance on one of his TV shows. Ruki acknowledges Kou's attempt to make the two of them happy in his own way. He praises Yui for doing a great job despite not knowing what they were actually assembling, noting that the part she made fits perfectly into the castle.

However, there is no response from Yui, causing a puzzled (ahaha) Ruki to remark on her lack of reaction to something she had been so excited about. Turning his head to the side to look at her, Ruki discovers that she's fallen asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. He comments on the privilege of such a sleeping position but acknowledges that it's understandable she'd fall asleep since it's past their usual bedtime. She had seemed so engrossed in their work that he didn't notice her drifting off.

Ruki carries Yui to his bed and gently places her there, saying that she should have just told him that she was tired. He realizes that she likely made an effort to stay awake until the end, though she ultimately fell asleep. Deciding that it would be a good time for him to go to sleep as well, he tidies up and hides the little castle under the table, so that he'll be able to see Yui's reaction to it in the morning.

Returning to the bed, Ruki asks Yui to scoot over to make room for him, but she's sleeping too soundly to hear. He lies down next to her and (in true Mukami Ruki fashion) begins observing Yui's sleeping face. He notes how relaxed her expression is and wonders if it's because she's tired out from using her brain (lmao rude). Ruki then ponders what kind of face Yui will make when she wakes up—will she feel guilty for falling asleep before the puzzle was finished, or will she be surprised and embarrassed to find him laying next to her? Regardless of what her reaction will be, Ruki knows that it'll be enjoyable to witness. But he's certain she'll be happy once she sees the completed puzzle and admits to himself that he really wants to see that expression on her face. He's aware that it's out of character for him, and thinks that he might even have trouble falling asleep from the excitement (asdfsdjfj this is too fucking cute I can't)

Ruki decides that he should thank Kou for the useful gift by making him his favorite food for dinner tomorrow. The mention of dinner causes Yui to stir (what a relatable Queen), and Ruki teases her for being greedy. He assures the still-sleeping girl that she doesn't need to worry; he'll make her favorite dish as well as a reward for her hard work on the puzzle.

The CD ends with Ruki saying how he looks forward to seeing Yui's reaction the following day.

Fin ~*×*☽*+*~

- _(´ω`_)⌒)_

#watch me develop diabetes from this CD #that's a sentence i never thought i'd type when i began my dialovers journey aha #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers #daylight #audio #diabolik lovers drama cd #ruki x yui #daylight ruki x yui #ruki mukami #yui komori #mine #and with this i've listened to all but two of ruki's CDs #which pleases the completionist in me but also makes me a bit...well sad tbh #i guess ill just miss the thrill and anticipation of hearing a ruki CD for the first time (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)#but aah i don't even know if i'll ever get my hands on those CDs so i don't have to stare blankly at the ceiling just yet ahahahagjhdgd #changing the subject here but i think we should include “staring at his sleeping gf” on the list of ruki's hobbies #i feel like he does this so frequently that it'd be justified #some might find it creepy that he does that but idk i think it's kind of endearing just how much he adores yui's expressions?#anyway i'll finally shut up now and take a long break from looking at any screens otherwise my eyes will malfunction

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calypso707 · 10 months

Note

Could I request for Astarion to react to gn crush always thanking him for helping them even something simple like for helping to carry some stuff for them?

My first request, this is so exciting !

reminder : I'm a french who writes in english, so I apologize in advance if I didn't understand the request and if there is mistakes, but I hope you'll like it !

Enjoy ! (๑>◡<๑)

OS - Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks.

You had been on the road for months, desperate to find a cure to get rid of the larva in your skull. Trying desperately not to fall under the spell of the Absolute. You could not even remember what your life was like before.

This adventure, strange and incredible as it was, had allowed you to surround yourself with people you could trust. From a tiefling to a devil to a two-hundred-year-old vampire. They had chosen to follow you and fight by your side and with time, bonds had been formed, feelings established.

Your eyes rested on each of your companions before finally losing themselves on the object of all your desires, who was nonchalantly seated on a wooden chair outside his tent, absorbed in the manuscript he held in his hands. You scrutinized his whitish curls that surrounded his face harmoniously, the wrinkles that lined the contour of his magnificent carmine eyes, his slightly pink lips that from time to time silently rephrased the words he had just read. Gods, he was seductive, dangerously seductive. And like a novice, you had fallen under his spell.

It took all your strength to refocus on what you were doing and chase him out of your thoughts. You sighed silently, assessing your mental state. Today, you were feeling particularly exhausted. The burden on your shoulders was growing heavier and heavier, many lives depended on you, and fear was creeping quietly into your mind. Your thoughts became more and more scattered as you tried to sort the camp's provisions, placing in a wooden crate alcohols and other drinks that might warm the evenings and lull the spirits. Just as you were about to grab it and bring it to the campfire, the crate lifted before your eyes. Astarion.

"Let me take care of that for you, darling"

There. His mere presence dispelled the darkness that was trying to envelop and consume you. He noticed your trouble and raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile on his lips.

"Well, cat got your tongue?"

You cleared your throat, finally shaking your head. "I thought it was not your habit… Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail?"

"Terrified but what can I say? I am in a generous mood tonight. Enjoy it." He winked at you, words heavy with meaning.

You smiled, examining his facial features carefully before replying, "I thank you, Astarion."

A strange expression appeared on his face, confusion.

"Thank you so much," you said.

You had thanked him before, countless times, and each time he sighed in despair. He always scoffed, pointing out that it sounded like torment to his pointed ears. But once again, you wanted to thank him. Not because he was helping you carry that old wooden crate, and he knew it. You were thanking him for everything he had done and continued to do for you. For his loyalty, his strange sense of humor, his presence. You thanked him for existing.

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to have a look at my other writings on Astarion !

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

Astarion x gn reader : On your skin

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion vampire #astarion x gn reader #one shot #romance

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satlun · 2 months

Text

Forsaken

Pairing: priest!john constantine x fem!reader

Genre: Angst

Trigger warnings: Priest kink? I don't think so. The relationship between a priest and his ex-lover. Mention of God and religious things in rebellious ways. So, if you're a religious person, I suggest you skip this.

Summary: Haunted by the past and a love that challenges the bounds of faith, a seeks console in the confessional. Father John, your ex-lover, is the only person you have left. But as both of your secrets and desires collide, your fragile world unwinds, revealing a battle between faith and forbidden love. A heartbreaking story of loss, longing, and the final betrayal.

Word Count: 4.5k

Author's note I: I’m not a Christian, I might make some mistakes/ misunderstood, feel free to correct me. I apologize in advance; I don't mean to offend you or anything and I don't mean to disrespect your beliefs either. It's just a fanfiction.

Author's note II: This is the most difficult writing I have ever written, the dialogue and the plot seemed vague and I needed to work hard on it. The more I think, the more I find weak points in this fanfiction. :/ The story is complicated to be honest. Anyway, I hope it comes out good and does not have any weak points that I missed.

Author's note III: English isn't my first language. Feel free to correct me.

My archive of Our Own account.

‘Everything you've ever done, you've only ever done for yourself.’

‘Self-sacrifice, belief.’

‘No. You will live, John Constantine. You will live. So you will have… the chance to prove… that your soul truly belongs in hell.’

‘You’re fucked.’

…

Your fingers are dipped into the vessel of Holy Water near the entrance before tracing the sign of the cross, from your forehead, chest, left shoulder and right shoulder. Speak in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

‘I have arrived with purity inside my heart, my body, and my soul. With respect to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,’ you recalled.

The crisp sound of your shoes clicking on the marble floor of the Catholic church which can be heard echoing through the silence of the atmosphere, the sun can barely reach into the hallway except for the dim lights from the yellow chandeliers. In front of you is a huge religious painting with frescoes, reflecting the shadows of the candlelight, waving all over the painting, including the statues of Jesus and Mother of God that were placed above the altar.

…

The folded hands of you are holding under your chin, reminding you of the respect you have while confessing your sins in the confessional. The darkness is filled inside this wooden box, there is only the yellow light from the other side of the room. The yellow shadow from the other room reaches into your face, reflecting many tiny details of the confessional grille. One obvious thing is that your breath can be heard easily here since it's wholly silent.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last confession…” Conflicts and grudges, mixed together with misunderstandings are expressed on your face. Your eyes stare at your folded hands before glancing up to the confessional grille. Your breath seems louder and clearer when no one is speaking. You came here to confess your love so called your, sin for him fourteen times in the past two months.

The gap between your confession and his answer is rather too long, you hardly hear anything behind the confessional grille, not even the sound of breath. So, you decided to continue. “There is something wrong with me, Father… Something damned.” There is pressure behind your beautiful eyes, as if you're holding your tears or perhaps carrying your painful heart. The air was sharply inhaled by your nostrils, to contain all of the feelings which are fighting back against one another inside your mind. Why is it difficult to speak when you have done this for fourteen times, it seems to be harder to speak each time you come to confess. Maybe because of his fourteen-time denial of your desire.

“Why does my heart still yearn for him day in and day out while he fully becomes a priest, a servant of God?” Your voice is raspy and somewhat whispery. Even though using the ‘him’ pronoun means indirectly speaking to him, he is able to guess who you are talking about anyway, by your similar voice at least. You have blamed yourself for missing him, for not stopping coming here to confess. You shouldn't have come, but it is not easy at all to just ignore his presence or to forget him in two months after five years of being his lover.

You swallow your saliva before asking for his guidance. “What is wrong with me? Tell me, Father. So maybe I can figure it out. I don't want to end up like this for eternity, it hurts…” You pretend as if you don't know the answer, as if you haven't asked the same question over and over. As if this is the first time you confess your sin to him. And the answer is always the same, it is because of the love that you have always had for him, and you know damn well about it.

An old, similar voice of an old man speaks through the confessional grille. “Father John isn't here, my child.” Your eyes widened; you didn't expect to meet Father David, one of your closest priests in this church. However, you aren't scared or shocked, either. Father David is comparable to your real father; you trust him with your whole heart.

“He knows you will come at this time every Monday and Friday.” This is not the first time he has heard about the relationship between you and John. However, it's my first time hearing about your confession or inwardness. He always knows that you always come to confess your sin to John, but he had no clue what sin it was. Father David even knows about how and why John became a priest in the first place, but since John requested Father David not say anything, he hasn't mentioned it with you.

Genuinely, this is quite an embarrassing moment when Father Davin hears all your confessions. However, at least that makes you realize that John is aware of your presence from time to time; he knows you will come every Monday and Friday. Yet he doesn't wish to meet you. He disappeared before you even came. Perhaps he has had enough of your confession. “Father–” Before you can say anything further, he interrupts.

“Try, my child. Try. You must not let your love betray the rules of God.” This might be the real guidance for you—the real guidance that is difficult to understand and accept. You did try; you did try everything you could, but that doesn't work; it doesn't help at all. To let go of him to the hand of God, you should be pleased with him, but it betrays your heart as well.

Your face crunches up and your jaw tenses up before muttering. “Oh, rules…” Say in an irritated tone. You know well what rules he is mentioning here, the rules of priests for not having lovers, marriages, and sexual relations. So-called breaking off from any kind of romantic relationship because this is the core of the priesthood’s role as pure servants who dedicate themselves to serving God.

Your sharp eyes, which are mixed with hope, aim through the confessional grille. “Father. David,” There must be a better resolution to this, a better way to overcome this pain and dilemma. Why everything seems to rely on you alone, why you're the only one who has to deal with this grief when all of these situations happen because of his own choice. You unintentionally blame John for a second for letting this happen to you.

“I can only provide this guidance to you, my child. The point is your heart.” He said it with a hopeful tone in his voice, hoping to help you figure out the situation.

‘My heart? What is wrong with it? What's wrong to love someone or what's wrong to not be able to let go of this love feeling? My heart isn't wrong at all. Why?’ Your betrayal thought slowly consuming you inside. Your head recalls the statement you said earlier when you entered the church. You come here with purity and respect for the people of the church and the Lord.

“My child. Listen.” Your face turns up as your ears listen attentively. “God has a plan for us all.” After Father David gave you the last sentence, he left you alone with thoughts in the confessional. The darkness slowly creeps into the box when the other side of the wicket door shuts. Your hands are released before they are placed down on your lap while your eyes give a blank stare to the confessional grille.

‘God’s a kid with an ant farm, y/n. He’s not planning anything.’ Once John said this when you were having a simple dinner at a street vendor. He always has his rebellious attitude against the higher power. However, you agree with him this time because if God has a plan for us which means everything happens for a reason. Then, what's the reason for this difficult circumstance? To be downhearted? To be depressed? Is this his plan? Why? Perhaps, you got a rebellious attitude from him as well.

God doesn't have any plans for us all, he’s not planning anything. Your hand grabs the handle of your bag, ready to leave with an ungrateful thought. This isn't you at all, you think. This kind of attitude has never happened before, and you despise it as well. You turn your whole body around before the other side of the room’s door cracks open again, you stop suddenly. The movement of someone entering the confessional box makes you have hope. Hope it is John. The yellow light reaches through the grille immediately when the wicket door is opened. The bag in your hand is placed aside before you sit down once again, whereas both of your hands are placed on the confessional grille. “John?” Sometimes you don't call out his name with the word 'Father', which doesn't mean you don't respect him. On the other hand, you just cannot accept his role, his role which makes you feel far away from him. As if he is above you, close to Lord, meanwhile you're a regular human who lives on this earth, just to survive another sad day of your stupid life.

There is no one answering your call at all, and that moment, you're positively sure that it is John. If this is another priest, he must say something. “I've missed you…” You said with your wobbling lips while your breath seems to be shaking. Your eyes look through the many tiny holes of the confessional grille, determining who it might be.

John is already there for the whole time, behind the confessional box, listening to your confession for the fifteenth time in the past two months. “You shouldn't have come.” His voice is different from usual, you barely recognize this tone of his. Your heart sinks to the bottom when he finally answers, the answer that you don't wish to hear much. You know you shouldn't have come. Why? Why does it look so easy for him to ignore your existence, to ask you to not come again. Why? Hasn’t he thought of you sometimes when he is alone? The question you wish to ask, but you don't have enough courage. The question that you wish he would answer the same as you, the apartment that you used to live with him seems more lonely and less vivid, the bed that used to look so small when he was around, the bathtub seems bigger when you are in it alone. You wish he would think the same or at least, when he prays, does he think of you or say your name in his prayers sometimes?

Your hands slowly trace down to the edge of the grille while your gaze moves to your hands as well, trying to speak without a shaky voice, which seems quite difficult right now. “I know. I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have confessed and I shouldn't haven't missed–”

He interrupts abruptly. “Please [stop].” His sudden speaking catches you unawares. Your eyebrows frown as your eyes looks up to the grille, recalling what he said earlier. You didn't hear it wrong; he needs you to stop. Obviously, he doesn't want to hear it anymore. As if your heart is torn by his words into pieces right in front of him, pieces that you are sure will take much longer to put together. Even though, it already does.

“John… Why does it seem so easy for you to ignore my existence?” You ask because you are curious. Is it easy to ignore your whole existence? Is it easy for him to live his life without you? Is it easy for him to leave everything behind, even you, to the hand of God? Is it true? Meanwhile, every breath you take is difficult without him.

His soft sigh can be heard from the other room. “Please don't [ask me that].” How could you ask such a thing, it's not appropriate at all. This is not the kind of questions you are supposed to ask priests, and you know that well, but your obedient heart still made you ask it anyway.

“I’m sorry. I just wish you would understand me.” You wish since how hard you have tried; it remains the same. Nothing changes, nothing can make him come back to you. Even yourself still seems to be difficult.

“I do, y/n.” How long haven't you heard him call your name? For months, eight weeks to be exact. For a long period of time, you haven't heard anybody call your name since you have no one left in your life. You grew up alone, you ate alone and, you slept alone before you met him. He used to fulfil your life in a way you didn't think he could. It was much better when he was there with you. Much better than you could imagine.

The tired tone of your voice makes him frown. “You don't. Really…” He is hurting you; he knows. He even asked himself, does he really mean it when he said he understands you. Does his heart mean it? The two completely different feelings conflict inside him. He cannot even say he means it. Then you think, if he truly understands you, he wouldn't ask the question in the first place. For a moment of silence, you speak again. “Oh, please…. John…" Your heart needs him so much that it cannot be put into words. Your love remains the same as it is. He becomes a priest; doesn't seem you feel love him less at all. You certainly need him back, need him back to your embrace, to your love he deserves. You wish you could take him back from the hand of God.

His movement takes your attention, speaking through this grille it is difficult to understand each other’s emotions when you barely see each other. All you can do is guess by the sound of their voice and movements. “I cannot love you anymore. I am a priest.” Two weeks after disappearing to come here and hearing this word from his mouth. A priest, a priest and a priest. Over and over. You despise it inside to be honest. “I wish you would understand me.” He added. Even though he already became a priest, his attitude is still the same. He made you miss the old days when you both playfully argue over little things. You laughed and you cried with happy tears.

At this moment, we are asking for each other's understanding and the fact that you both get nothing back. You don't really understand each other, even though you pretend to. You both know it well, but you cannot easily say it away. As if, you walk from different places and try to meet halfway on your path, but you both never really meet each other. You think you meet, but the truth is, you don't.

“Is it because of him? Is it Lucifer?” You finally mentioned one of the names he dislikes. “What is your reason?” You finally asked what you have always thought. Your firm voice makes him try to look for you behind the grille, but he sees nothing. It is too dark for his vision. “There is no need to become a priest, John…” Your hand is placed on the confessional grille as one side of your face nuzzles to it. You desperately want to hear his answer or at least his movements. “You don't have to.” You ended the sentence sharply before trying to breathe, holding your tears. “Why did you leave me?...” You try hard to find any possible reason you can think of, what and why. You haven't asked him like this before until you have had enough grief. All you can do is wish, wish he will finally explain something to you or change his mind.

It has been three months since the tragic incident, three months for the loss of his apprentice, three months for the scariest moment of him when he thought he would lose you and three months after Lucifer gives his new life which he has never asked for. It's unfair.

‘Everything you've ever done, you've only ever done for yourself.’ Once Gabriel said to him after he explained what he had done to earn his way back into his good graces. Then, that was all she said. He will never forget it. It is all about impossible rules, endless regulations. Who goes up, who goes down and why. This is all bullshit. Why? He didn't go to church enough; he didn't pray enough? They eventually can find any possible and fucked up reason for people who unaware with their own past to goes up to heaven or goes down to hell. Then, what is the true regulation when he finally sacrificed himself for you but they still did nothing to stop Lucifer when he interfered on his way to heaven. In the end, here he is, having his new life which he has never asked after almost having his chance to heaven. This all does make no sense for him. Did heaven have no right to help him at all? At least, it should have power over the devil. Why? Why and why? Many ‘why’ questions have been in his goddamn head for months. Or because he hasn't served him enough? Here, becoming a priest is one of his reasons. He needs to know if he does become a priest, he will be able to get to heaven or not. If the last answer is no, he would rather be a heretic.

‘No. You will live, John Constantine. You will live. So you will have… the chance to prove… that your soul truly belongs in hell.’ One thing about Lucifer is that he loves fucking h; hem up, made him live just to prove him that he is no longer belong to heaven, but hell. No matter how hard the devil tries to convince him, he does not belong to hell anymore. Self-sacrifice is enough to guarantee his entry. Why does he have to continue to live, live without knowing what day Lucifer will appear and drag him to hell again. John has no clue about it. Questions and questions without true answers for what he wishes to hear. All he desperately needs is to go up to his good graces, to end these things, to become as ashes and to finally experience peace in heaven. He needs anything rather than to live since he has experienced the things he never asked to see, listening to their screams every fucking night and seeing them roam around him. It is right that he was unaware back then when he was a teenager, he did the wrong thing. A gift Gabriel called it, is not a true gift to him. He lives with it day by day just to use it as his tool to earn his way back. Finally, he did. Then, Lucifer came and took that from him in a second. He has listened to these bullshit lies all of his life, long enough to leave everything behind and even you. He hopelessly needs to go to heaven. This is all a loop, so called a trap until one day he decides to give up.

John changed his path, becoming a priest was the first thought that came into his head. Being a priest would be an expensive ticket for him to earn his way back this time. To help people, to pray, to listen to their confessions, and then to guide a right path for them. He still works as an exorcist, the difference is he is in a priestly form, serving under the church. In order to help people who need his help under the name of this church, to guarantee that he is no longer performing exorcism for himself alone. To finally prove to Lucifer since he hasn't stopped messing up with him. Hell is no longer in his soul; he needs to tip the scales of good and versus bad more decisively in favor of his unaware behavior in the past.

For the whole three minutes, John remains silent. “Say something…” You said as your face still nuzzled on the grille, carefully listening to his answer. John gets back to reality when he hears your beautiful voice.

One minute passed, and he still remains nothing. Why? Doesn't he wish to talk anymore? Your eyebrows frown as your throat starts to become dryer, you barely have energy to speak when the other person goes silent. “John… please…” your voice is so soft as if you're whispering, the fact is you just almost died right there when he remains silent because you cannot know what he is thinking or what he is feeling since the grille blocks between you and him. Just like how religion obstructs you both.

“You wouldn't understand.” His sharp voice cut through your heart. Is that all? All the silence he made earlier; makes you wait just to hear this? This is not the answer you need at all.

“You haven't explained anything, why would I understand?” Your last two words are quite as if you're ready to cry. Maybe, you're. You miss him, but at some point, you hate him for not explaining anything and just leave. Leave without any excuses. He has never told you why.

Perhaps to let it be like this is better than knowing the truth. When he said that, you wouldn't understand what he truly meant. You will find any possible reason to make him come back but that is not how it works; there is nothing to guarantee him since heaven cannot do anything to Lucifer when he has the chance. If it were easy, like you said, he wouldn't become a priest in the first place. He hopelessly needs to go to heaven. “Please, don't come again... I beg you. At least, do it for me.” He doesn't know why he said that, but he finally did. Not seeing each other would be the cure for the pain—to forgive, to forget, and to let go. Frankly, every confession you have made and every word you have ever asked him to go back, he doesn't want to listen to them anymore because it is hard for him to sit there and remain silent or reject you. You have no clue how much he wants to go back, to love you, to kiss you; you have no idea about that, and the worst thing is, you have no clue how hard he tries to ignore your whole existence on this earth. He wants to do those things, but he knows that no matter how much you try, his heart still can't. All his heart needs now are to finally go up to heaven. His life comes with the gift, which he hatefully lives with until death takes him away. He doesn't want to see or hear those creatures anymore. He is so desperate, and he wants to go.

Meanwhile, all the real reasons that have been on his mind, you will never know. The true reason for him becoming a priest is that he will never tell you, and you know damn well that his existence will haunt you forever because you realize he is still alive in this world, but he can't love you, and you can't live with him.

Your lip turns red since you bite it, just to make you feel something more than numbness. Tears slowly pour down your cheeks as your brain keeps repeating his words without your permission. ‘At least for me.’ Why? Isn't it enough? Isn't it enough to let go of him to the hand of the Lord? To let him dress as a priest, sitting back there behind this tiny grille, just to let him serve God or to let him not be able to love you. You do everything for him, and he still asks you not to come, at least for him? How could he say that? you think. Has he never known how much you sacrifice yourself for him or how much you try? You think this is ridiculous; you have always thought that only heaven can take his love from you, and it seems to be true now. While you're losing your mind, the door from the other side is opened. Your eyes switch in the direction; all you see is that his black shadow fades away unhurriedly with the echoing sound of his clerical shoes hitting the ground. They sound far away with every step he takes. He doesn't even wait for your answer.

“Come back… come back to me…” Your voice is light which you can barely hear yourself. You don't understand why you cannot say it out loud. Perhaps, there are too many things you wish to say and you cannot just put them all in at once, you hesitate with all of them and you end up only saying that. He is finally out of your sight, leaving you here all alone with your unforgiving thoughts, while your chest physically feels painful. So, this is how it is like when you hurt so much? You haven't believed that heartbreak can cause physical pain in your chest until now. You clench your hand into a fist before pounding it against your chest, trying to make it stop hurting you. Your cheeks are now full of tears, you eventually can't hold back anymore. Crying and sobbing echoing inside the confessional. You cannot hear anything except your own heartbeat, beating fast in your ears. As if your heart is ready to explode. All you do is try to calm yourself down and think, you feel betrayed by your heart because your heart will do it again for him. At least, for the last time. You hate yourself so much because you do everything but you get nothing in return.

You used to pray and pray. You prayed to God to bring him to you, to make him come back to you, and to help him change his mind. ‘Why Lord? Why do I eventually get nothing at all? Why don't you make him come back to me… I pray but I get nothing back Why?

For a moment of thinking and weeping, you uncontrollably let your rebellious thoughts win. This must be the most rebellious thing you've ever done, you think, as the cross necklace you always wear since he gave it to you in order to prevent unpredictable harm is now taken off by your hands. In this moment, you let your rebellious thoughts consume you deeply. You believe that the divine God and heaven are one of the reasons why he is taken away from you. After these things happened, you might say you lost the faith in God. You pray or do everything you can, and nothing is given to you. You get nothing at all. You are a religious person until the moment you place the cross necklace down on the edge of the confessional grille, and you leave forever.

END

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caramel-maveeato · 11 months

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ᴅᴏᴋɪ ᴅᴏᴋɪ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: Eonni’s Gang’s unofficial couturier getting spellbound by the legendarily toe-curling rizzler So Mun (ft. real footage of Ga Motak being a professional matchmaker for 1k words straight)… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x Fem!reader ♡ Genre: fluff, assumed relationship, reader is a simp in denial. ♡ TW: slightly suggestive, slight cursing, slight implication of bi-panic (it doesn’t indicate the reader is bi tho it’s just common sense to get skfjlsiglg when both Hana and Motak are in the room), might have been inserted a few TUC inside jokes and genZ slangs cus i was going insane over midterms i apologize ♡ word count: 3.7k

(request is here) Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Who would’ve guessed there was legitimately a place for the dead to arrive after life? Not exclusively for the completely-dead, though, it was created for close-to-dead people as well, like in your case right now.

You remembered girl-bossing a little too close to the sun and falling into a coma over… whatever. But instead of sinking into everlasting gloom where you could no longer feel or think like how those Hollywood movies portrayed, you were embraced by a bleached-clothed person who flung you back and forth between a fonded place of your memory and a blank white setting just as bleached, informing you about the world full of “evil spirits” and lecturing you into becoming a “counter” if you wished to continue living.

Since you were too young and beautiful, you refused to gaf about the possible risks of getting unalived for the second time, closed-eyedly concluding the verbal contract for a (hopefully) glorious future.

“Um…”

Six pairs of eyes leaped over at you. Ms. Chu swallowed her noodles before responding: “What’s the matter?”

“Well, I…”

You scratched the back of your neck out of instinct, briefly making eye contact with the rest of the table: “I’ve told you that I used to work in the fashion field, right?”

The chairman nodded his head: “Yeah, you did mention that the first day you came here."

There is no way you could back out now, not after you have entirely mustered the attention. Rotating unsaid words in your mouth while you observed their expressions one last time, hoping no one would find your sudden proposal weird: “If you don’t mind, is it alright if I… take your measurements and make some outfits? I just think it would be nice to at least do something in return for all the help I’ve been getting from you. I know it’s not a lot but…”

And that was how you ended up here, pacing around with a tailor’s ruler and a notepad.

Your suggestion wasn’t really approved at first as the team reassured you that it wasn’t just their responsibility to be your advisor but, at the same time, they were happy to be there for you, and that you shouldn’t be bothered to “return” the favor. But who are you to stop? All the remaining brain cells of yours congregated to list down every possible reason why this was what you deeply desired to do, including your “burning passion for fashion” and “essentiality for experience and modeling purposes.”

Thankfully, they all accepted your offer after ten minutes of hesitation.

Scribbling Jeokbong’s results down on the piece of paper, you scanned around, looking for the last person your notepad was still missing: “Where’s So Mun?”

Hana zipped up her hoodie that had been removed earlier for you to record her sizes, nonchalantly answering: “In his room, I suppose. His phone died so he said he’s going to charge it real quick.”

You thanked her before grabbing the equipment and making your way to the place mentioned. The hallway submerged itself in peaceful tranquility, conversations feebly reverberated back from the dinner table where your teammates gathered.

You knocked on So Mun's door to announce your presence, which was unnecessary since he was quick to notice you through the circular window: “Hey, do you mind if I…?”

“My turn already?” So Mun watched you nod with his signature amiable smile: “Sure. Do you need me to step outside?”

Sneaking a peek through the furniture and simple decorations, you stopped at his figure and moved closer. For some reason, the floor felt strangely unfamiliar as if you were a fawn testing its first step: “Nah, right here should also be fine, this won’t take long.”

The soothing atmosphere was filled with the subtle rustling of the measuring tape. Each touch of the tape was deliberate, like a delicate caress, ensuring precision in every little detail. You made a mental note of the circumference of his wrist and the length of his arm. So Mun was also very cooperative, staying still with a straight posture while you interchanged small talk: “So, what kind of outfits do you plan on making?”

You hummed, letting out a chuckle when he cracked up from the ticklishness of the stroke: “I’m not sure yet, maybe I can hear what your preference is after this? That way I can get a plus point for customer service too, a win-win for us.”

He lightheartedly went along with your playfulness: “Oh, I can’t wait!”

“Um-hm, now don’t squirm around or I’m gonna put you in a Chucky fit.”

“So we also do cosplay? Interesting,”

Soft laughter resonated. You were so diverted by the bubbly ambiance flowing from So Mun that you didn’t notice you had leaned over to slide the tape behind his neck, encircling it attentively to avoid any signs of discomfort. It was a calming afternoon, causing the source of light to be perceptibly minimized. As much as you tried to pin your focus on the assessment, your unamenable mind kept on targeting his lower-half face that popped into your view.

So Mun was adorned with a kiss from the dim sunlight glow, and for this one time you were given a chance to admire him this close, you were dazed to see how ideally shaped his jawline was, sharp enough to cut grass while the plumpness of his lips tamed the roughness down, two aspects blending perfectly like yin and yang.

Now you knew why the ground felt strange and your stomach flipped.

In front of you stood a young man who seemed to have stepped out of a webtoon where its protagonist was an underrated visual until the later season. Charismatic and fascinating, his gentle yet chiseled features must’ve been carved out under the skilled hands of the most proficient sculptor, embellished by an air of youthfulness.

From the very first glance, you were absolutely convinced that So Mun was, indeed, a local heartthrob.

His effortless charm easily attracted gazes and turned heads among those who crossed his path. Dark, tousled curls framed a face that was abundantly favored by the eyes, easy to remember but not easy to forget. His thick brows added the final touch to the astounding side profile and praised a pair of expressive gemstones that accommodated secrets untold. His pupils illustriously mirrored a pellucid surface of the water, holding both innocence and wisdom within those splendid irises that had been dyed in a ravishing deep brown color.

And the scariest part was that every time you laid your eyes on him, he seemed to become prettier.

Now that you have stumbled across his vicinity, you secretly prayed to every known religion (or just your own sanity in general) that you would commit nothing out-of-character to give away how bad you’ve already grown to fancy this man. Or else… there will be no “or else.”

Still, something had been peculiarly off.

It must’ve occurred to be some kind of hormonal chemical imbalance going wild right now. Because hell, the last time you found yourself feeling so jumpy around another person was when Hana nearly knocked you out after twenty minutes of physical abuse training (trust me, she did go 10x easier on you compared to how she went on So Mun and Jeokbong). But this specific man right here was not your mentor, nor was he about to beat you to a pulp. All he did was exist and let you take his measurements, periodt.

Maybe he was just remarkably snatched? It couldn’t be since your adrenaline level didn’t act (this) weird around Hana and Motak. Sure, your heart rate did climb notably when situated in close proximity with them, but with So Mun in particular?

It skyrocketed.

A long, deep breath silently expanded your lungs, working extra hard to untie the obstructive tensity. You stared at the tiny numbers on the tape measure and mentally repeated it two hundred times in an effort to inscribe the result in memory. However, it was suddenly an impossible task because of how disconnected your mind was at the moment.

So Mun was too close to you right now. Not dangerously close, yet the distance was limited enough for your head to spin and your heart to pound.

You have no clue if you should embrace this internal madness or not, but you certainly acknowledged that your lucidity and dignity were shrinking after each passing second. It’s going to be bad if you don’t get out of here soon.

“Y/n, why’s your face so red?”

Shit.

“What? No.” You denied without missing a beat, which laid bare your disobliging trepidation almost right away from how fast you responded.

So Mun marginally narrowed his eyes with plain disagreement: “Yes, it is. You’re not feeling unwell anywhere, are you?”

An invisible sigh of relief dropped when you realized he wasn’t aware of the tangible distraction you felt around him but rather centered the strange enhancement of color on your cheeks. You assured yourself that it was only you manifesting the accusation against yourself, so you tried gaslighting him into thinking he was the drama instead: “I’m fine, really. Are you sure it’s not you who is seeing things?”

“Huh? But your face wasn’t red like this earlier, I swear I’m not mistaken.”

Unfortunately for you, So Mun’s intelligence ran in his family. So you must’ve been in your sweet dream to expect a detectives’ son would be fooled by such a half-assed reason.

Each motion of yours was helplessly cornered like a prey waiting to be demolished under his unceasing focus, especially when two of you were the only ones in the room right now, all alone and suspicious: “Hold up, if you’re not sick… why are you blushing?”

Your mouth was clenched shut. Even the tiniest sound pealed loudly in the current confined space, reflecting your nervous gulp as clear as day.

So Mun called your name again after the short pause, sounding even gentler than how he usually spoke in that… ludicrously charming voice of his: “Y/n.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me…” The way he drew the last syllable out slightly longer hurled a thud into your chest, sparking your diffidence. You heaved your eyes to meet his own only to regret your decision immediately as you were welcomed by a cunning smile he tried hard to suppress: “...you’re getting shy?”

You squinted and looked down, knowing damn well you, in fact, were shy as fuck: “No. Why would I be?”

“Yes, you are, you can’t see yourself right now but I can, you’re blushing all over the place. You were fine just now, were you not? Why suddenly get shy?” He closely beheld your reaction, allowing a grin to plaster as the traitorous shade of pink on your cheeks evidently declared how you truly felt: “Is it because of me?”

“Because of you?” Knowing he had successfully caught you red-handed, you tried the hardest to play it off cool with a sassy eye roll while hanging the tape just a couple of millimeters away from the width of his shoulders: “Where did you even get that from?

“From the way you act?”

“Dear customer, you’re delusional.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are.”

Instinctively holding your breath, you enclosed the measuring tape around So Mun’s chest with great caution, arduously ignoring how you could already tell his physique was too attractively in shape under that black compression shirt. Every time he inhaled and exhaled, the tape stretched ever so slightly then loosened after the relief— Fuck, okay, stop.

“Am I really delusional or are your hands shaking right there?”

This little shi– did not just call you out like that.

His voice vibrated down from the top of your head, bordering between intentional cockiness and unintentional flirtatiousness. You never discerned that your fingers had grown to tremor abstractedly due to how faint the movement was, yet he could easily detect your restlessness just from a few playful glimpses. Never in your life you felt this terribly exposed in front of someone. It was like he could see right through you like a piece of glass.

“You…” Shamefulness followed you like your own shadow. The immense heat on your cheeks was no longer pleasant to say the least: “Stop talking. Just let me get this done.”

On the other hand, So Mun, whether or not had progressed to be fond of your painfully flustered self, mindlessly dropped the ultimate bomb on you: “Do you like me?”

You swore you saw your heart fly out and wheel around the ceiling in horror.

If the tape measure wasn’t made of plastic, it would’ve been torn in half between your violent grip. You bit the inside of your cheek timidly and landed a weak punch on his shoulder. Agitation and embarrassment blanketed your half-whisper: “Just… be quiet, Mun.”

“Fine, fine, I was just joking. I’ve never seen you get this red before and…” So Mun laughed softly, though the laughter quickly dissolved into quietude as he caught a menacing glare from you: “Guess I got carried away, my bad.”

Speaking of the truth, he didn’t mean any harm rather than just breezy teasing. It was you and your hormonal, backstabbing blush that created the whole awkward situation. You shifted your ruler down and laced it around his waistline, half of the frustration in your tone replaced with sheepishness: “You sure did have a lot of fun, didn’t you?”

“But you’re so cute like this… ” His chuckle brightened the air. Even though you weren't in the mood to appreciate the random compliment, just the word “cute” itself was enough to awaken those dormant flowers in your stomach and rush them into vigorously blossoming like it was a sunny spring day.

You fought back a pout from arising, not sure if you should continue putting up an annoyed act. But before you could respond, your entire body froze as his voice suddenly appeared to be alarmingly close to your ear, tender like a passing cloud except it could facilely have you where he wanted if he ever wanted to.

“C’mon, don’t lower your head, I’ll stop pointing your blush out.”

Despite your concentration still being attached to his waist as you read the measured number, his toned abdominal muscles that somewhat divulged themselves under the thin compression shirt were nowhere near your zone of attention. Your nail dug into the tape, feeling your composure slowly fracture like a dainty little eggshell ready to be crushed. Timidity dispersed as uncontrollably as a broken dam when So Mun’s warm breath fanned your skin.

It didn’t seem like he had a single clue as to how his gesture—purely coming from curiosity—tremendously affected you. The more he dipped his head and leaned closer to yours, the louder you heard your own heartbeat roaring.

You turned away to hide how vulnerability had completely enveloped your face. A tiny crack echoed in your voice as you stuttered, trying to break free from his oblivious stare: “So– So Mun…”

“Hm?” The fire under your skin rapidly magnified within just a blink of an eye, to the point you were afraid it would explode, yet he still didn’t catch on to the silent plea in the way you called his name, instead taking it as a warning that you were getting exasperated: “Don’t be mad at me, I promise I’ll be quiet.”

Even the sketches and doodles hung on the wall avowedly held their breath as if acknowledging the hide-and-seek negotiation unfolding before them. You clutched your eyelids closed and your body stiffened, dodging his gaze like dodging bullets.

One sense had shut down, offering a chance for other senses to intensify. As So Mun leaned down searching for your face, the minty and earthy note of his shampoo washed over your nostrils, delightfully freshened from the vague men's cologne you smelled first stepping into the room.

His breath ignited on your awfully reddened ear, goosebumps traveling up your spine while his scent created an intoxicating merge into your source of oxygen: “Let me see your face, will you?”

Suddenly, pressing under your chin were warm fingers that had calloused up from life journeys, determined yet tender and careful enough not to startle you as he tried to lift your chin up:

“Come on, I don’t bite.”

“What takes you kiddos so lon— Oh my, are you two kissing?”

From the inside of So Mun’s room, you could already hear noises of flabbergastation ringing like afterschool bells due to the exclamation.

You and So Mun jumped away from each other like getting struck by electricity as soon as you saw Motak’s face appear behind the door’s window, amusement wafting in the way he looked at you two. You almost choked to death in your own panic, words collapsing when they reached your mouth: “It’s not what it looks like!! We’re just— We— I’m just taking his measurements!”

“Then why are your faces so close together?” Motak moved aside for you to storm out of the tension-filling room, raising his brows with great gaiety when So Mun followed your way out like a puppy. The tape measure was grasped brutally in your palm, hoping to be counted as evidence. But catching the wide grin that had seemingly been engraved on the older man’s lips, you doubted he’d buy your excuses.

“Wait, so you were about to kiss and I interrupted? Damn, sorry lovebirds.”

“No! It’s— we really did not…” Footsteps clouded the hallway, the whole team was quick to be summoned for the delicious tea. Out of the blue you lost all nerves to face them, your explanation slowly dissipated into a nonverbal ‘yes’ to the accusation with how much speechlessness you assembled.

Hana tilted her focus at your skin’s crimson tint, her hidden protectiveness loomed out of armor and she threateningly gave the origin of your blush a good nudge: “Yah So Mun-ah, why is Y/n’s face so red? What did you do to her?!”

Gazes launched over the man of the moment with suspicion, making him hold his hands up in defense: “What do you mean, noona? I swear I didn’t do anything!”

He turned to you for confirmation, but your exchange of looks was impeded when Ms. Chu walked over to wrap her motherly hands around you, cooing with adoration and happiness as if she'd just listened to your wedding vows: “Oh dear, I knew it from the start you two would make such a cute couple. I’m so happy for you my babies.”

You swallowed heavily: “But we’re not—”

“I can’t believe these two have made it this far, even faster than us…” The chairman ignored So Mun’s refuting head shake (as well as Ms. Chu’s side eye), giving both of you a thumbs up: “Right, Chu-yeosa?”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

From the other side, Jeokbong engulfed So Mun in a side hug and patted his back pridefully: “I’m proud of you, very proud, So Mun-ah. We raised you so well, even getting a girlfriend before your hyung.”

“Hyung, listen to me—”

“Our So Munie, I never knew you had that in you, hm? Now you punk got the team’s stylist all to yourself.” Your beloved found-fam didn’t give you any opportunities to prove yourself innocent. Motak elbowed So Mun playfully with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The more he talked, the more gasoline was poured into the flame of your embarrassment: “Anyone surely gets bolder near a pretty girl, right?”

Hana took a sip of her Milkis: “Isn’t it supposed to be the opposite?”

“Everyone, hold on a second.” You spoke up, almost sounding desperate: “ So Mun and I have nothing to do with each other, this is just a misunderstanding.”

Pausing shortly after your clarification, you looked over at him in search of a helping hand: “Right?”

“Huh– yeah, right. We… Y/n is right. Plus, we’ve only met not long ago, how can anything develop between us this quickly?” So Mun hastily nodded his head. Both of you took turns clearing up the affair:

“Exactly, he’s right.”

The hallway seemed to hold time in place, slowly absorbing your explanation as amused stares remained affixed to you and him.

The chairman quirked his eyebrows up: “So nothing, huh? More like nothing yet.”

“Let’s see how long you can keep denying.” You inwardly facepalmed yourself, your ears burning ferociously pink as Motak shot you a knowing smile. Levity once again suffused the air when you caught him leaning into Ms. Chu’s ear and whispering; both of them then snickered loud enough for you to hear: “I bet a month.”

“I’m serious, we’re not gonna—”

“Oh, did I say something?”

Hana casually waved her hand in dissent, not even attempting to stop a half-smile from permeating her gorgeous face: “I bet longer. Look at how much they already lost their cognition just from being in the same room, they’re hopeless.”

Jeokbong briskly chimed in: “Like how Ms. Chu and the chairman are?”

“What did you say?!”

Rambunctious laughter followed the sight of Ms. Chu smacking Jeokbong on the back. It was pure chaos, but not in a bad way.

A chuckle managed to slip through your lips. The awkwardness was no longer bothersome but rather narrowed down into a silly feeling in your chest. You cast a glance at your assumed partner, coincidentally locking eyes with one another as his attention had also rested on you since forever.

You spotted a trace of rosiness sprinted across So Mun’s cheeks, perhaps it had unwittingly blossomed when you were still committed to clearing up the dating scandal. And he smiled—one that was sheepish but sweet nonetheless, one that sent you into a hall of chaotically winging butterflies. Unspoken words lingered in the air, but you didn't mind them.

If luck would have it, this could be the start of something incredible. But that’s only the matter of the upcoming future, right now?

You just figured out you’ve deadass forgotten all of the measurements you took of So Mun…

[Tag List]✿⌦ @slytherinshua (feel free to notify me if you want to be on the tag list)

Lol i tried making it as spicy as “kiss and makeup” since the request asked for suggestive but us and Mun've only met for a short period of time i didnt know if we should kiss (yet). Hope this is okay @acupnoodle thank you for the cute idea ily ♡

#the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #uncanny counter #so mun #so mun x reader #do hana #ga mo tak #chu mae ok #choi jang mul #na jeok bong #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

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lotusflowerbreakingthesurface · 1 month

Text

PingXie Moments Compilation

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝟖𝟏𝟕 𝐃𝐚𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥!! 🎉

On this special day, let's reminisce about PingXie moments in the book∼ Fanfictions are indeed tasty, but the canon moments are also delicious, right? (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Truthfully, I planned to compile all of them in one post, but I realized that there are too many PingXie moments, I'm afraid if I post them all, I will become a PingXie Bot, thus I picked some moments (and some jokes) that I thought were quite memorable and interesting. It's only 40 moments, it doesn't follow the timeline, perhaps only 80% of them.

Warning: Spoilers! Very long post! CP-oriented post! It's a compilation of PingXie moments in the book, naturally, there are spoilers. I added a little notes/meta/comments/related interviews as supplementary files. And I'm not an expert in the Chinese language (as you already know, I use mtl) so I put the source below, just in case you want to check the Chinese raw or other translations yourself. I apologize in advance if there is any mistake m(_ _)m

(Since there is a limit to insert images, I went with quoting them.)

Sources: Chinese Raw | MereBear's Translation | 瓶邪bot

1. Daomu Biji Vol. 1: Seven Star Lu Palace Chapter 2

As I was talking, I saw a young man walking out of the front door with a long thing on his back that was tightly wrapped in cloth. I knew at first glance that it was an ancient weapon. This thing was indeed very valuable, and if it sold well, the price could go for more than ten times its worth.

Note: In the book, it was their first meeting. But in an old Daomu Biji mobile game, NPSS added this line (it seems that he forgot about it later though):

“The first meeting with Zhang Qiling was not downstairs of Uncle Three's house, but at Wu Xie's full-month celebration, but they both forgot it.” ☆

2. Daomu Biji Vol. 4: Snake Marsh Ghost City (Part II) Chapter 18 | Chapter 47 (MereBear)

He continued, "I am a person without a past and a future. All I do is to find find my connection with this world. Where did I come from and why am I here?" He looked at his hands and said calmly, "Can you imagine that if someone like me disappears from this world, no one will find out, as if I have never existed in this world, without leaving any trace? Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I often doubt whether I really exist or am just a phantom of a person."

I was speechless and thought for a while before saying, "It's not as exaggerated as you say. If you disappear, at least I will find out."

3. Daomu Biji Vol. 6: Ancient Building Under the Dark Mountain Chapter 39

Pangzi gestured for me to ask Men You Ping. I looked at him and heard him say, "About five hours ago, you appeared where you are now, in a deep coma, barely conscious. We gave you a simple first aid, and then five hours later, you woke up."

I waited for Men You Ping to continue speaking, but he shut up.

"That’s it?" I asked in surprise.

"That’s it." He said in a muffled voice.

[....]

Pangzi nodded and said, "Xiaoge and I have been in another cave, which is relatively dry, but I will come here to get water every once in a while. When I found that there was suddenly another person in the cave, I was scared to death, but I recognized you immediately, called Xiaoge, and rescued you together. You were already dead, so if you really need to find someone to save your life, I, Pangye, was still qualified to make a guest appearance. Later, we were afraid that you might have broken bones, so we didn't dare to move and just waited here for you to wake up."

Note: Xiaoge gives Wu Xie mouth-to-mouth resuscitation here. Someone analyzed it and NPSS confirmed it. Here is the analysis:

“If you want to perform CPR on a person who is not breathing without moving the body, the most basic and important thing is artificial respiration. Judging from Pangzi's tone, the whole rescue process was completed by him and Men You Ping. But there is a key word here: "guest appearance". Pangzi did not play the main role in the rescue process. So who played this main role? I think everyone should understand.” ☆

4. Daomu Biji Vol. 6: Ancient Building Under the Dark Mountain Chapter 49

He leaned against the stone wall behind him and said calmly: "He and I can't leave."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" I cursed.

He suddenly smiled at me and said: "Fortunately, I didn't kill you..."

I was stunned. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

"You--" My head buzzed.

He still smiled at me, his head slowly lowered, and sat there, as if he was just taking a rest. However, the surroundings were completely silent.

Note: There once was a typo in the first draft, but it was edited later.

Edited version: “还好，我没有害死你……”

Unedited version: “一汀烟雨杏花寒好，还好，我没有害死你......”

“一汀烟雨杏花寒” comes from an ancient poem “戴叔伦：燕子不归春事晚，一汀烟雨杏花寒”, it describes the scenery of late spring and expresses the feelings of melancholy and separation. ☆

5. Daomu Biji Vol. 7: Stone Shadow in Qiong Cave Chapter 18

Men You Ping did not answer her. Instead, he turned to me and said, "Take me home." Then he walked out without looking back.

6. Daomu Biji Vol 8: The Finale Book 2 Chapter 3 | Part 2 Chapter 54 (MereBear)

I was stunned for a moment, and then froze. At that moment, my mind became blank.

I couldn’t describe the emptiness in my heart. I suddenly didn’t know what I should do.

Dead? You’ve got to be kidding me.

Is he really dead? Hey, what kind of international joke is this?

"Wake up. Let's go home." I patted his face, suddenly finding it all very funny. I turned to Pangzi and laughed. "Look at Xiaoge."

"I know." Pangzi said on the side, his voice was very low.

Then, my hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I looked at my hands and found that there was no sadness in my heart. My consciousness did not react, but my body instinctively felt despair.

I thought to myself, he’s really fucking sitting there, he’s really fucking dead. Men You Ping is really fucking dead!

There were actually such things in this world, and Men You Ping could actually die.

[....]

My instincts were collapsing under the pressure, but all kinds of uncomfortable feelings were still leaking out of the "pressure cooker" of emotions. I felt that I couldn't let my emotions run wild, because if I got sad, I might die here. I feel very strange in my heart, not just sad. I don’t know if others can understand my complicated feelings. First there was despair, then more of a distrust of what I saw. My mind went blank for a long time before all the emotions in my heart came to the surface.

I have always wondered how I would feel if Men You Ping died. I thought that maybe I was extremely sad, or maybe I had thought about it too much and done too much mental preparation, so I became numb and felt that I could totally bear it. Now that it has really happened, it has turned into a strange mood that I can’t even deal with.

After that, I was in a dilemma, not knowing whether I should be sad or pretend to be calm and endure the pain. In the end, the former gradually prevailed. I did nothing beside his body, just stared blankly.

But just when I felt that tears were about to fall, I suddenly saw Men You Ping's hand move and scratch the floor!

Comment: I feel like "Wake up. Let's go home." is the answer to Xiaoge's "Take me home." in the previous moment, don't you think so? And here is the description of Wu Xie's feelings when he thought that Xiaoge died. It's quite long and depressing... T_T

7. Daomu Biji Vol. 8: The Finale Book 2 Chapter 25 | Part 2 Chapter 76 (MereBear)

"I came to say goodbye to you." He said, "It's all over. I thought about my connection with this world, and it seems that the only one I can find now is you."

Comment: Is this the kind of connection that Xiaoge was looking for in Daomu Biji Vol. 4?

Note: In the Live Broadcast Interview on June 11, 2021, there was a question about what "嫩牛五方" Nenniu Wufang (Iron Triangle + HeiHua) think of Wu Xie, and this is Xiaoge's part:

NPSS: For Zhang Qiling, Wu Xie is his only connection with the human world. He can live without any connection with the human world. After so many years, Wu Xie was the opportunity that made him willing to connect with the human world, which was also something that required courage for him, because connecting with Wu Xie means connecting with other people. At the beginning, Wu Xie was just one of the many people he had saved, but Wu Xie reached a state of transcendence through his own qualities. He was able to attract another person who was not a mortal. There is such a person, when you look him in the eye, you will have this feeling-

Host: This is that person, this is the person I am looking for.

NPSS: Yes. ☆

8. Daomu Biji Vol. 8: The Finale Book 2 Chapter 27 | Part 2 Chapter 78 (MereBear)

That night, we found a relatively dry place and lit a fire. Sitting in front of the fire, he silently looked at me for the first time.

I also stared at him for a long time. Since he kept looking at me like this, I began to wonder whether the focus of his gaze was actually on me. When I found that he was really looking at me, however, I felt very strange. I said, "Is something wrong with me? Is there a monster behind me?" I asked him several times, but he didn't respond. I thought this person was not very normal at ordinary times. Now in this situation, I definitely couldn't understand and didn't need to understand. But after a while, he suddenly asked me for a cigarette.

9. Daomu Biji Vol. 8: The Finale Book 2 Chapter 28 | Part 2 Chapter 79 (MereBear)

I screamed as I rolled all the way down the hillside. I knew it was a very steep cliff with a drop of at least thirty meters, so even if there was snow below, I would never be safe.

[....]

Just when I was about to despair, I suddenly heard a movement outside. Then, my flailing hands were grabbed by someone, and I was pulled out of the snow pit. I gasped for breath, and saw Men You Ping grabbed the back of my collar and pulled me out of the snow with force.

My eyes still saw a pink color, which was quite blurry. I looked at him, and I was so angry that I asked him: "Why did you come back again?"

He looked at me, then at the cliff above his head, and said to me, "I heard your cry for help."

Note: This is one of the famous PingXie moments, which later someone brought up this scene again in the comment section of the online version of Sand Sea 3 Chapter 5 (Chapter 116 on MereBear's site: Like a Red Bean in the Exquisite Dice, My Love for You is Deep in My Bones) in 2014. Here is the famous comment that is still circulating around in the DMBJ fandom:

“The moment I fell, holding my neck, I thought I couldn't speak anymore. The sky of Motuo was still empty, just like the Changbai Mountain. But this time, no one would jump down thirty meters to pull me up. I asked him why he came, and he said he heard my voice.” ☆

However, people still doubt where this quote actually comes from. As someone said, what I've mentioned before is the most likely source since it is the earliest one that can be found. The site was closed down, so I can't check it myself.

10. Daomu Biji Vol. 8: The Finale Book 2 Chapter 28 | Part 2 Chapter 79 (MereBear)

"That’s fine, do whatever you want. If you really knock me out, I have nothing to say, but I hope you know that if you need someone to accompany you to the end, I won’t refuse." I said, "I want to accompany you. This is my own decision, so don't worry about it."

Top comment: One is a confession that travels thousands of miles away, and the other is a stumbling pursuit. ☆

11. Daomu Biji Vol. 8: The Finale Book 2 Chapter 29 | Part 2 Chapter 80 (MereBear)

Men You Ping nodded, and I asked him: "If this is not the case, according to the promise, who should be the next in line for the Old Nine Gates?"

"You." Men You Ping said.

Me? I was stunned for a moment: "You mean, I was supposed to stay behind this bronze door for ten years?"

Men You Ping nodded, and just as I was about to ask him to clarify, Men You Ping suddenly reached out and pressed the back of my neck, and I lost consciousness."

12. Excerpt from 《与邪共予起灵书》 or see more here

I saw Menyouping standing in the dazzling light of the bronze door, as if waiting for me. It turns out that not everyone has left me. He is right here, behind this mysterious bronze door, looking forward to meeting me again just like me. Ten years, it sounds like a long time that cannot be passed, but when that moment comes, we will definitely feel the brevity of time. Its brevity may just be because you are looking forward to a reunion. You use your ten years to exchange my lifelong innocence, then I will use the next ten years and more ten years to exchange your ten years.

The passage above is related to the famous quote “用我一生换你十��的天真无邪” (I'll give you my whole life in exchange for your ten years of innocence).

According to this post, this sentence first appeared in a forum interview in 2010. When NPSS talked with readers about the final ending of the characters in the main story (Daomu Biji Vol. 1-8), he used the sentence "用自己的一生，再换你十年的天真无邪" (I'll give you my whole life in exchange for another ten years of your innocence) to summarize the ending of Zhang Qiling and Wu Xie in the main story.

NPSS's interview with Nangong Ling, the owner of PingXie Bar on Baidu Post Bar or Tieba (a popular Chinese forum) at that time: The Long-Delayed New Year Interview on March 11, 2010 ☆

Q: Is Wu Xie the most miserable person in the whole book? Is it true that one of him and Pingzi (Xiaoge) will die in the end?

A: Wu Xie is the most miserable, his life is a doomed tragedy, but Lao Zhang is not easy either.

Q: Then?

A: It delayed the occurrence of the whole tragedy.

Q: Then they suffered a tragedy together?

A: I use my life to exchange for your ten years of innocence.

And there is a follow-up. On November 1, 2011, NPSS participated in a symposium at Shenzhen University and interpreted the meaning of this sentence. ☆

Q: How do you understand "用我一生换你十年天真无邪" (I will give you my whole life for your ten years of innocence)?

A: On a very quiet night, I was sitting in front of my computer, chatting with an online friend who was my reader. She asked me if I could describe the whole story in one sentence. Then I thought about it and realized that the story could be described in one sentence: "用我一生换你十年的天真无邪" (I will give you my whole life for your ten years of innocence). It is not a very equal exchange. It is an infinite sacrifice of one person for another in exchange for a limited benefit.

13. Tibetan Sea Flower Part 1 Chapter 39

I said, "I don't know. I always feel that it's safer to be around Xiaoge. If he's not around, at least having his statue is better than having no statue at all."

14. Sand Sea 2 Chapter 53 | Chapter 92 (MereBear)

"Are you really willing to bear it?"

"I have no choice."

"You have a choice, you just can't see it."

"That means there is no choice."

Sigh

"Then will you tell him all this?"

"No."

"Then what will you tell him?"

"I will tell him that he is just a patient, and from now on, he can rest."

"They won't let you say these words."

"I won't allow them to stop me."

15. Sand Sea Part 3 Chapter 5 | Chapter 116 (MereBear)

玲珑骰子安红豆，入骨相思知不知

A dainty die with red beans engraved in it, don't you know, is a love yearning that penetrates to the bone?

(—Rediscovering Wen Tingyun by Mou, Huaichuan)

Note: As we know, this candy is only a title, but it has a deep meaning. “玲珑骰子安红豆，入骨相思知不知” is a passage from a poem by Tang Dynasty poet, Wen Tingyun (温庭筠), it's the second poem of two love poems in his collection of poems 《新添声杨柳枝词二首》/《南歌子词二首》.

井底点灯深烛伊，共郎长行莫围棋

玲珑骰子安红豆，入骨相思知不知

The poem is written in the voice of a woman, expressing her attachment to her lover, in the first line, it means she earnestly asked her husband not to miss the return date when he travelled far away. It is the woman's deep longing for her husband and the strong love she has for him that is hard to let go. The second line means the lovesickness that goes deep into the bones, revealing -once again- the woman's strong love that is hard to let go. And the words "Don’t you know?" (知��知) vividly expresses the woman's long separation, the difficulty of reunion, the deep pain of missing him, and even the fact that she wants to talk to no one. It can be said that the ending is natural and the aftertaste is endless. What the readers feel is the sincere and passionate love in the woman's heart —Baidu Encyclopedia

Since there is no way for me, a complete novice, to explain it through semantic and syntactic analysis, please visit here or here for more explanation.

In WeChat interview on August 6, 2013, NPSS said the reason why he chose that title:

Q: Sanshu, I would like to ask you, in Sand Sea series, when Wu Xie was slashed in the throat by the man in white, why was the chapter titled "玲珑骰子安红豆，入骨相思知不知"?

A: I chose that chapter title because that was the emotion I felt at the time. ☆

16. 2014 Chinese New Year Special "Fantasy" Chapter 27 (Epilogue) | Chapter 2.31 (MereBear)

When the sun absorbed the fog and dispersed it, the black fog completely dissipated. I turned my head to see where Men You Ping was, but saw the sunset shining in from the window next to me.

It was over, I was stunned for a moment and realized.

I was back in the small power station.

My hands and feet slowly revived, and the severe pain in my nasal cavity began to attack. The throat was full of the smell of blood, and all the blood turned into a paste in my throat.

In all the moments of coming back, I always felt a very sad emotion in my heart, which would make me silent for a moment.

Don't make the illusion too beautiful because it will eventually disappear. You think you have obtained and grasped it, but in fact there is nothing. This kind of memory is no different from my real memory. People themselves cannot really own anything.

17. Ten Years Chapter 31

This was written for me, he knew I would fulfill my promise. He hid the clue in Chen Pi Ah Si's nose, which really gave me face.

I clenched my fists, and a sense of security that I hadn't felt for many years suddenly rose from the bottom of my heart.

Note: The bolded sentence is an additional sentence in the physical book of Ten Years.

18. Ten Years Chapter 36

In the past ten years, I have had many dreams. I dreamed of him when he was young and I met him when I was young.

19. Ten Years Physical Book

"Not only that, if you can truly believe that you can do this, you can do anything." The voice in my heart answered me, "But, believing in yourself may be the most difficult thing in the world."

"What's so difficult about believing in yourself?" I asked.

"Just like you can't believe that you can walk on the water, only a very few people can truly believe in themselves." The voice in my heart answered me, "You can't even believe that you really entered here and heard these words."

A vast pool of water suddenly appeared in front of me, and the water surface was as calm as a mirror.

I looked at the surface of the pool and touched it with my feet. It was cold water. The waves spread and quickly disappeared at the end of the visible range. I saw a figure appearing very, very far away.

It was a familiar back, it was Xiaoge.

I stepped on it and fell into the water.

Then, I woke up. I looked up at the bronze door.

It was a dream, the door was still closed tightly.

I looked at my hand, and the wound was not cracked.

Comment: I really like the implication here, Wu Xie trusts Xiaoge more than himself...

20. Ten Years Chapter 41

"The people in that village make a dessert from glutinous rice and brown sugar. Since there’s plenty of rain in the village, a special weed called Yuzai ginseng grows there. The petals of this weed are put into the dessert, and are said to help with memory. Of course, it’s only a local legend."

I kept yawning as I spoke. My consciousness began to blur, but I didn’t stop talking.

I don’t know how long I stayed up, but in my hazy state, I suddenly felt someone slowly sit down beside me.

I hesitated for a moment, turned my head to look, and the other person also turned his head to look at me.

Pangzi slowly woke up and looked at us.I saw a familiar face, indifferent eyes, reflecting the light of the campfire.

People say that when you forget someone, the first thing you forget is their voice. But when he spoke, it wasn’t unfamiliar at all.

"You are old." He said

The music was still flowing, in this place closest to hell.

Pangzi came up, hooked his arm around Men You Ping's shoulder, and caused him to stumble: "How can we compare with you, Xiaoge? And you were willing to come out!!"

Men You Ping swayed from all the jostling.I pulled down my sleeve, covered the scars on my arm, and stood up.

He smiled at me and I lifted my bag: 'Let’s go."We just…haven’t seen you for a long time.

....

I live at the North Sea and you at the South Sea,

I asked the wild goose to pass a letter but was told they could not.

Each of us held a cup of wine and talked amid spring wind with peach and plum blossom,

For ten years we missed each other before lamps during night rain outside.

Note: About the poem, MereBear has already explained here. This is the Chinese version:

我居北海君南海，寄雁传书谢不能；

桃李春风一杯酒，江湖夜雨十年灯。

In short, it's about friendship, a happy gathering and how deeply they missed each other after they parted.

There is an interesting meta about Xiaoge's "you're old", read here.

Top comment: So when Xiaoge explained the amnesia brought by the heavenly gift in Sea of Lights, he looked into Wu Xie's eyes and said "there will be a little left", which means that Xiaoge faced endless darkness in the door, lost his perception of time, and had to use his remaining memory to try to recall Wu Xie's appearance. The words "you are old" in the past ten years contains Xiaoge's deep and heavy longing for Wu Xie.

21. Daomu Biji Extra: 2019 Mid-Autumn Festival

If Men You Ping said something, then it was fine, but he wouldn’t say anything. Instead, Zhang Haike kept telling me that as an outsider follower of Zhang Qiling, I should take care of these things. Fuck that shit, I thought to myself. I’m a guardian, not an outsider follower. He said that if I did well, I could start the special procedures that would give me the surname Zhang. I could be called Zhang Xie or Zhang Wu Xie in the future. Of course, I could also follow my master and be called Zhang Qixie.

I was so angry that day that I thought my liver was going to burst.

22. Daomu Biji Extra: The Other Shore | The Other Shore (MereBear)

It was too cold here, so after I died, I wouldn't be degraded. I would exist here for thousands and millions of years. I could sit here and let the wind and snow freeze me. According to my experience, hundreds of years later, Men You Ping would see the moment he was seeing now.

I seemed to be seriously ill and chose this ending myself. I was surprisingly calm and had no regrets. Although I could not be truly eternal like him, I found a way to coexist in the same time and space as him.

[....]

I didn't expect it to be so romantic. In this world, there was no other person who could use death as a romantic condiment so naturally.

Note: I think almost the whole short story is candy with a knife, but I can't possibly put it all here. There is a good PV about this short story, you can see it here or here.

Top comment:

”When we first begin to truly love someone, our greatest fear is that the person we love no longer loves us. What we should be afraid of is that even though they are dead, we still can’t stop loving them.”

23. A joke that is written by NPSS and posted on the official blog on Weibo

I hope this letter finds you well, I have heard that Wu Xie is well-informed, has a strong memory, is wise in all things, knows everything about the world like a little snow falls on a red stove and melts immediately, and often stays by the side of the patriarch as the two musical instruments strike the same note. I will come on the moon to meet you.

I looked at the letter, and Pangzi also looked at it, looking at me with an awkward look. I touched my nose and said, "What is this, Chu Liuxiang?"

Note: This joke was about the Zhang family sending a letter to Xiaoge and Wu Xie. “笙磬同音” (the two musical instruments strike the same note) is a metaphor for harmonious relationship as a family, but is often used in wedding congratulations. ☆☆

24. Thousand Faces Part 1-001 | Part 1-Introduction 2 (MereBear)

She looked at me and said, "Wu Xie, what is the secret in your heart? Is there anything you will never let anyone know until you die?"

I looked up at him, and a thought moved in my heart. She tilted her head and caught it: "Ah, you have it in your heart."

I smiled awkwardly. Yes, my thoughts moved just now.

I did have one.

I asked Ah Tuo: "Isn't this embarrassing?"

"That's something only you know." Ah Tou looked at some group photos I had hanging in my study room. "If I tell you a secret that I think is the most incredible. You have to tell me the thought you just had."

[....]

She looked at me, "Let me guess first, do you want... to live forever?"

[....]

"I do, but this is not my secret." I said to Ah Tou, "If there is no afterlife, then I want to live forever. I still have a lot of things I want to do with my friends, but I am not afraid of death. The richness of my life is second to none. I have enough. However, I agree to your conditions."

Note: In the second line, "我抬眼看着他" (I looked up at him), if it was referring to Ah Tou, "他" should be "她". I don't know whether it's a typo or not, some say it's not, and I check the Chinese raw, it still hasn't changed. If it's not a typo, "him" in "I looked up at him" can actually refer to Xiaoge, someone explained it on MereBear's site. Nevertheless, it doesn't change the meaning of "if there is no afterlife, then I want to live forever". Later, in Notes in Rain Village: Courtyard Chapter 12 or Notes in Rain Village: Part 2 Chapter 17, it was emphasized again:

Maybe I don’t believe in the afterlife.

Moreover, the afterlife is meaningless to me. I will not have a more thrilling life than this one.

On the ancient road, I met the ancient soul.

25. Restart Part 1-Not a Chapter | Restart Part 1 Chapter 112,5 (MereBear)

I drank to my heart's content that night. In the past ten or twenty years, I spent my days alone imagining things, panicking and being cowardly. At this moment, I understood the meaning of all of this.

I said to Bai Haotian, "I always hope not to disappoint others. Although it is difficult, I have finally reached the point in my life where I will be satisfied if I can just not disappoint one person."

[....]

I dreamed of the Tibetan Lama Temple, the floating ribbons in my dream, and I dreamed of everything, where I belonged, where my life belonged to, but I dared not touch, emphasize, or solidify it. I was afraid that I was not worthy of those memories, those times. Even though I had done so many things and controlled so many other people, I still did not dare to say any beautiful words.

26. Restart Part 1 Chapter 141 | Part 1 Chapter 141 (MereBear)

What was so important about me? I was a person who would have to say goodbye to Men You Ping one day in his life. I was a person who delayed Pangzi for getting rich and getting married. I made Xiaohua bankrupt, separated Xiuxiu from her closest relatives, and made my parents live in fear that I would follow Uncle Three’s path. I was far from worthy of the name "innocent (无邪)" my grandfather had given me. But in my confused first half of life, I lived an incredibly wonderful life. I had seen countless wonders in the world. I had the most amazing partner with the most stories in the world. We sang loudly on the cliffs, chanted the sutras on the snow-capped mountains, drank wine in the Gobi Desert, and watched the moon on the sea.

I've had enough in this life.

In Sina Weibo micro interview on August 03, 2018, NPSS talked about the bolded sentence:

Q: In the past ten years, Wu Xie's inner demon was Xiaoge. Ten years later, is Wu Xie's inner demon the life span? In the Reboot, he mentioned it many times. I feel depressed when I think of "I am a person who will have to say goodbye to Men You Ping one day in his life".

A: Most people in life will eventually say goodbye. For the one who leaves first, everything will return to peace. The one who leaves later will feel a little painful. It's not that scary. It's just unwilling to accept it.

27. Restart Part 1 Chapter 204 & Chapter 208

"...You have to understand what love is. Love is like a ghost. You can't see it when it comes, and it makes no sound when it leaves. Even if it's there, it's moving around. This thing doesn't make sense, it's fucking haunted. When you see it, it'll just pat its butt and leave. You ask it if it wants to leave or not. If it doesn’t go, you’ll have to light three pillars of incense. If it goes away, you can't find it back even if you burn down the house..."

[....]

"I just want to know what's behind the bronze door. If I'm about to die, can you please whisper something in my ear?" I said in the direction of Men You Ping.

There was no response from the other end, so I said, "If I am about to die, just say something in my ear, and then I will leave with peace of mind. Otherwise, you can't send me away even with three pillars of incense.

28. Restart Part 2 Chapter 12 | Chapter 12 (MereBear)

...But when I saw the look in Men You Ping's eyes when he looked at the rain, I didn't know what year or century he was thinking about.

It was so annoying to partner with a god.

29. Notes in Rain Village Chapter 5

Men You Ping looked at the snow. The wind was blowing in the wrong direction, and the snowflakes kept drifting in. His hair quickly turned white.

I wonder what he would look like with white hair.

30. Notes in Rain Village Chapter 15

"If I were your child*, would you not allow me to smoke?"

"Ah, I don't know, but you fell into a crack in the ground in the middle of the night. I don't have a daughter with night blindness." I glanced at Men You Ping, who was leaning against the door and looking at the two of us. His expression seemed to say, "You two both fell into a crack in the ground, what's there to discuss?"

Note: "If I were your child" is “如果我是你生的” in Chinese raw. There is a comment saying:

“The sentence "if I was born by you (如果我是你生的)" is very interesting. Children usually only use the word "birth (生)" to their mothers, and should say "if I were your child (如果我是你的孩子)" to their fathers. Xu Lei (NPSS) used the word "birth (生)" to Wu Xie through the girl's mouth, and I dare not think about it too much.” ☆

Comment: It's not the first time NPSS used the "birth" joke to Wu Xie, and I still remember how Wu Xie's word in Restart "我他妈能生四个" (I can give birth to four) is like a well-known joke in the fandom. So, I can only blame NPSS for how normal I feel about PingXie Mpreg fics and how many there are.. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

31. Notes in Rain Village Chapter 17

Men You Ping walked towards us, one step, two steps, three steps, six or seven steps.

He walked to our side, and I looked back at where he was just now, and he was no longer there.

Don't worry about it, I thought to myself, we couldn’t go up, so he walked down.

32. Notes in Rain Village Chapter 23

The two dismantled caissons were finally put up with a simple scaffolding. Men You Ping was so damn cool, I had no idea how he dismantled it. Apart from the movements, I found his extreme concentration and skill really enviable.

33. Notes in Rain Village Chapter 24

I felt a little dizzy after drinking and had a very long dream that night. I dreamed of snow-capped mountains and my own ending.

It was the first time I had this kind of dream, but I knew that I would often dream about this moment from now on.

In this world, everyone was a circle and Men You Ping was the only eternal straight line. We were strung on this straight line like Buddhist prayer beads, heading for the other side that Buddha could see. It was just that the other side was an infinite time and space.

34. Notes in Rain Village: Courtyard Chapter 4 | Chapter 9 (MereBear)

At about 9 o'clock, I was looking at the yard from the window and saw Men You Ping tidying up the moss in the yard alone. I leaned on the windowsill, he sorted it out for more than two hours, and I watched him for more than two hours.

I didn't know if he liked my plan or not, but I thought if Pangzi liked it very much, he might like it a little.

35. Notes in Rain Village: Travel Chapter (Physical Book Version)

That night I had a dream. I dreamed that all the happiness here turned into little elves, flying around people. There was also one behind Deren. His face was constantly changing, but the elf was still shining.

"Don't worry, it's okay." In the dream, Men You Ping said to me. The elf behind him hid in his hair and looked at me shyly.

36. Notes in Rain Village 3: Travel Chapter 43

It just happened to be the last moment of sunset, and the sunset glow on the sea turned colorful. We parked the car and unloaded the poultry and livestock. Pangzi went in to prepare dinner with his friends, and Men You Ping and I sat on the embankment by the sea.

Source: Here

37. Notes in Rain Village 4: Pastoral Chapter 8

Then I saw a very magical place: there was a place far away in the starry sky, where the stars were very dense, and those stars were like waterfalls sliding down from the sky, rushing all the way to the clouds below the train.

"The stars are falling," I said to Men You Ping, sounding like a nonsensical child. "Falling, falling down."

38. Notes in Rain Village 4: Pastoral Chapter 33

When I was halfway up, even though I was wearing a raincoat, I was completely soaked and looked very miserable. I knew I would not give up, but I still felt a little desperate. As if I had sensed something, I suddenly stopped and looked back.

Men You Ping was standing behind me.

I didn't know when he came, but it was just like ten thousand times before.

39. Looking for the Dead in the Sea of Lights Chapter 24

As soon as I walked out of the circle of light from the bonfire, Men You Ping rushed out from the darkness on the other side of the camp, in the opposite direction from me. He jumped on his horse, leaped over the bonfire, rushed behind me, and lifted me onto the horse with one hand. Then, two men and one horse rushed towards Pangzi.

40. Queen Mother's Ghost Banquet Chapter 82

"I, I, I..." I tried to describe it, but I couldn't see clearly with my eyes squinting. I murmured, "I need Xiaoge. I really need him this time."

That's it. Obviously, it's not all of them, but I'm spent haha. People in the Chinese fandom often said that PingXie is a Chinese-style cp and pure love “纯爱” type of ship, which I think it's indeed true. Their heartfelt moments are often hidden between allusions and metaphors, and the strong bond between them mostly relies on the emotional attachment rather than just physical touches or skinships. To me, it makes them so unique and interesting. What's more the taste of pure love that people often associate with this cp/ship is actually pretty rare itself. In the end, they did care for each other regardless of what people used to define their relationship (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*+♡

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝟖𝟏𝟕!ヾ⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉ

#pingxie #dmbj #daomu biji #817 rice festival #special 817 #happy 817 #盗墓笔记 #瓶邪 #pingxie only #瓶邪only #congratulatory post

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