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yeoldontknow · 6 years

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Warmth

Author’s Note: merry christmas @kpopandlock <3 i love you and i hope you enjoy your gift <3 this takes place in the Did You See universe and is an update to jongin’s story. ~you do not need to read each story to understand this one. Pairing: Jongin x Reader (oc;female) Summary: In early December, Jongin plans a date night for you. What started as plans for dinner quickly becomes a night full of surprises; what started as plans for dinner, quickly becomes the start of the rest of your life. Genre: fluff Rating: PG Word Count: 3,974

FiaNini sent a Link FiaNini[3:22 PM]: reservations made! FiaNini[3:22 PM]: we have a table reserved for 7 Y/N[3:26 PM]: !! Y/N[3:26 PM]: im so excited i haven't been there in 170000 years FiaNini[3:28 PM]: lord FiaNini[3:29 PM]: you're spending FAR too much time with yeol

Y/N[3:41 PM]: i only sent 2 !! Y/N[3:43 PM] - Message sent with Fireworks: WOULD YOU RATHER I DO THIS FiaNini[3:44 PM]: oh wow FiaNini[3:45 PM]: i love how long it took you to find the screen effects FiaNini[3:45 PM]: i thought you were typing a novel Y/N[3:46 PM]: i know :c Y/N[3:46 PM]: im ancient Y/N[3:47 PM]: so should i meet you at the place at 6.45? i can stay later at work and prep for the meeting tomorrow FiaNini[3:49 PM]: no actually can you meet me at 6.15 somewhere FiaNini[3:50 PM]: i need to pick something up first and want your opinion Y/N[3:51 PM]: oh is it that ted baker scarf you wanted? Y/N[3:52 PM]: i still stand by my opinion Y/N[3:52 PM]: burgundy brings out your eyes FiaNini[3:54 PM]: you're still on about the scarf? Y/N[3:55 PM]: YES FiaNini[3:55 PM]: it is not about the scarf Y/N[3:56 PM]: goddammit FiaNini[3:56 PM]: it's better than a scarf Y/N[3:56 PM]: ARE WE FINALLY GETTING SILK SHEETS FiaNini[3:57 PM]: what no Y/N[3:57 PM]: and why not?? Y/N[3:58 PM]: im trying to elevate our life Y/N[4:01 PM]: jongin Y/N[4:03 PM]: my love Y/N[4:05 PM]: my heart Y/N[4:09 PM]: king of pajamas Y/N[4:13 PM]: prince of chicken FiaNini[4:15 PM]: sorry for pulled into a meeting FiaNini[4:15 PM]: prince of chicken?? lmao Y/N[4:16 PM] - Sent with Gentle Effect: *whispers* silk sheets FiaNini[4:17 PM]: omfg lmao Y/N[4:17 PM]: how long were these effects here without me knowing wtf FiaNini[4:18 PM]: if i want silk sheets i'm putting them on the wedding registry and making other people pay for them Y/N[4:19 PM]: i love a genius FiaNini[4:20 PM]: ANYWAY FiaNini[4:23 PM]: im sending you a location to meet me. it's just a hallmark store. shouldn't take too long just want your opinion on a thing and then we can move onto the main event FiaNini sent a Location Y/N[4:25 PM]: oh wow i had no idea this place was here Y/N[4:26 PM]: ok! FiaNini[4:27 PM]: i adore you duchess Y/N[4:28 PM]: gross Y/N[4:28 PM]: i adore you too

Hours later, fingers gently warmed by the heat of a peppermint coffee, you wait patiently outside Jongin’s specified location with a small smile. The cold chill of the air kisses your knees, makes your skin feel somewhat tickled by December, or perhaps it's simply the season that makes you feel wrapped tightly around bliss.

Life carries on around you, gliding over and through your stillness as though you are not even there: volunteers ring bells for donations, surly men and women pass with brisk steps, and the noise of it all makes you feel somewhat connected. You’re separate from the chaos, observant and living life at a pace different to those around you, letting yourself kiss the magic and see the wind, the breath from your lips becoming a warm frost as it reaches the cold.

The night does not smell special. There are no lingering whispers of pine or spice in the air; people on their phones do not wish one another merry this or happy that. Truly, the only sign it is the holiday season are the window displays reminding you that it is so.

But you feel it, down into your bones, a kindness that cannot be silenced and a love that refuses to be kept to itself.

Against your cup, you tap your ring finger and giggle at the sound of your ring against the cardboard. Your favourite chime, you think, muffled and quiet and totally yours. Briefly, you're reminded it is a symbol and not motion of a change. This is not your first Christmas with Jongin, simply one of many, but the sentiment is different, the importance of your gift choices heavier merely because you are promising always, not just with words but with actions.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you smile to yourself once more, secretly and with private delight, sipping gently to savor the taste. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, an urgent noise for such a timeless moment, and you frown slightly at the intrusion. Not rude, not uninvited, merely unexpected.

HoHoYeol[6:11 PM]: DUCHESS!!!!! HoHoYeol[6:13 PM]: tell me what you think of this font for the save the dates HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol[6:14 PM]: also look at the pics my talented, beautiful, perfect, gorgeous countess took of you for the mailer HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol sent a Photo HoHoYeol[6:15 PM]: ISNT SHE AMAZING??? HoHoYeol[6:15 PM]: you look good too!!!!!

‘Always so early, Duchess.’

At the sound of Jongin’s voice, your body and soul stand to attention, spine tingling simply from the way his tongue kisses syllables. The richness of his tone drips over your skin, warming you down to your toes like liquid gold poured down and deep. Lifting your gaze from your phone, you both smile as your eyes meet, his own pulling wide across his face as though he were ascending dawn. Odd, you think, for he so often reminds you of the sun.

He approaches you with casual grace, delicate steps that appear almost weightless, carried towards you on the wings of desire. Behind him, his coat flaps in the wind he creates with his movements, and you are briefly reminded of flight, of motion, and of the day he asked you to marry him.

Absentmindedly, you tap your ring finger against the cup once more.

‘Aren't you cold?’ he asks as he approaches you, arms outstretched and aching to hold you.

You reach for him, body moving forward naturally in on its own as though he were your moon. ‘Not anymore,’ you murmur softly as you burrow into his neck.

No, you were not cold, but any moment without his touch feels brutal enough to numb you.

Stepping back slightly, he tucks two fingers under your chin to tilt your gaze upwards. For a moment, he hesitates, eyes scanning over your features as though memorizing you and this moment. Something like adrenaline begins to flare in your blood, but he does not give you long to ruminate over the feeling.

He presses his lips over yours and hums into the kiss, chaste and soft, but warm with delight. Leaning into the kiss, you smile against his lips, both of you beginning to giggle for seemingly no reason - overjoyed by the feeling, the season, each other. Through your coat, you feel his fingers pressing and rubbing circles against your waist, a habit he he adopted the first time he kissed you.

As you release a contented sigh, the noises around you begin to dissolve, the sound of your own heart beating serving to ground you in the moment. It reminds you you're alive, that this is living, and time moves only when you will it so, as long as you're with him.

But almost instantly, the moment is broken and fractured, the buzzing of your phone piercing the moment with a sharp, upward ding.

‘Yeol again?’ Jongin asks, moving his lips over your jaw to rest his head against your shoulder.

Peering over his head, you lift your hand to glance at the screen. He's sent more pictures, more praises, mostly for his girlfriend but many for you.

Laughing at all his enthusiasm, you step away from Jongin to scroll through his texts.

‘Yeah, with the pics for the mailer,’ you say distractedly, stopping on a rather jovial picture of you and Jongin. Turning your phone to show him, you beam. ‘Aren't we cute!’

As Jongin studies the picture, you study him, watch the way his gaze seems to pause and linger. Visibly, he seems to soften, impassive expression overruled by the one he reserves just for you, one that's easy to miss and lasts only for a moment.

As though remembering himself, he pulls back with a grin and shakes himself free of awe.

‘I like that one,’ is all he says, but weight of his words, the gentle and smooth way he says it, means his heart has been set. He turns towards the door, gesturing for you to follow him. ‘Sometimes I think he's more excited than you are about this wedding.’

Tapping out a reply, you glance up to see Jongin holding the door for you. ‘You know he likes to be involved,’ you remind him, walking quickly through the door and scrunching your nose slightly at the abrupt scent of cinnamon. ‘I just want to be married.’

‘I know,’ he says, following behind. ‘I just can't imagine what he'll be like when it's his turn.’ Pausing beside you, he does a quick once over of the store before nodding his head. ‘Over there.’

Putting your phone in your pocket, you move with Jongin and answer his rhetorical question. ‘A mess,’ you giggle affectionately. ‘Like, even more than he is now.’

As though magining Chanyeol on his wedding day, Jongin barks out an endeared laugh. ‘Well, rest while you can.’

With brisk steps he leads you over to a section devoted to ornaments, the wall lined with rows and rows of choices ranging from comical to sentimental. Fondly, you smile at each, remembering briefly how you selected ornaments for your first shared tree. Jongin was anxious with excitement then, jovial but keeping it contained beneath his skin so as not to make the wrong choice. He was careful then, as he seemingly is now, his arms crossed cover his chest as his brow tenses in thought.

You eye him quizzically, waiting for an explanation as you already selected ornaments weeks ago, with slightly less diligence. Lost in thought, he does not turn to meet your gaze, and you bring your attention to the wall before you. Almost instantly your eyes settle on a small, plastic ornament in the shape of an airplane. A sinking feeling opens in your stomach, your heart clenching in regret. This was not the ornament you selected for this year, but it should have been, it could have been, had you only seen it when you were looking. Reaching out to touch it, you let your fingers gently graze the plastic, remembering.

‘Okay,’ Jongin announces brightly, bending over quickly to pick up a box. ‘What do you think?’

Straightening, he shows you his selection with a satisfied grin. He’s proud of this, wrinkles forming around his eyes and a laugh threatening to spill over from his lips, cheeks puffing with the strain. Lightly, he shakes the box, jiggling it happily as he watches you take it in. You glance at the ornament and then at him, silent and still, feeling slightly shellshocked.

Chewing your inner cheek, you read the words on the box over and over as you try to quell the thousand questions burning on your tongue. It’s not a mistake, you realize as your cheek begins to bleed. You did not read it wrong. In plain letters, the words BABY’S FIRST CHRISTMAS are printed in cursive, and etched into the glass moon of the ornament.

Finding your voice, you step back slightly, giving yourself a bit of distance from the object. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’

‘No,’ he shrugs happily. ‘Just, what do you think?’

Nodding as you keep your eyes trained on the words, you keep your expression impassive as you struggle though disbelief. ‘I think I’m not pregnant,’ you state plainly.

‘I know,’ he nods eagerly, not seeming to give in to your confusion. ‘But what do you think?’

‘I think it’s lovely, but -’

Jongin cuts your words off with a delighted laugh. ‘This is the one!’

Bewildered, you watch him move quickly to the counter, and wait patiently for him to say it was a joke, that he is kidding. But the clerk scans the box and he reaches for his wallet, nonchalant and without any heaviness or hesitation in his fingers. It’s when the cashier smiles at him, offers words of congratulations, that you feel your body moving while Jongin accepts her well wishes with glee.

‘What is happening?’ you murmur as you reach his side, words sounding more like a hiss than a question.

He rocks back and forth on his toes, his hand rubbing gently along the hem of your coat. ‘I’m buying an ornament,’ is his simple reply.

You huff, leaning your weight onto one foot as you watch the cashier bag the item. ‘You’re not just buying an ornament.’

‘I know,’ he says, suddenly serious. ‘I’m buying the best ornament. I’m so glad you agree.’

‘Jongin -’

Once again, he cuts you off, holding out his arm for you to take with a wide smile. ‘Shall we?’

You’re silent as Jongin leads you away from the shop with confident steps, hurried and impatient. Beside him, you move quickly to keep up with him, mind racing with too many questions for your hands to catch. This, you know, has been planned for ages, whatever this is. Always, he’s been like this, perceptive and observant when it comes to gifts, the objects themselves ranging from small to grand, nothing selected without careful, devoted thought.

But when he is like this, excited and anxious, eyes narrowed and heart on a mission, he is standing on the precipice of monumental change. The first time you saw him like this was the night he kissed you, and then again when he proposed. When his jaw clenches and his fingers hold yours a little too tightly, that’s when you start to brace for a shift. The world is moving around you as you move within it, and you cannot help but feel unprepared.

Children was not something you discussed, not with any serious intent. In passing you’ve discussed your desires, teased casually with each other about the future, but you had assumed the notion was a long way off, an undertaking for a different day. And while the light in his eyes when he’s like this makes your heart swell and your soul fall a little bit more in love, the confusion gathering in your veins makes you feel overwhelmed and somewhat frantic.

‘The restaurant is the opposite direction,’ you offer after a while, studying his reaction to the words.

He does not turn to meet your gaze, instead leads you around a corner of an unfamiliar street. ‘This is a shortcut.’

‘Jongin,’ you say sharply, wincing slightly at the harshness of your tone. Unphased, he simply chuckles at your side. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘We’re having a date!’

‘Why are you so cheery about my confusion?’ you pout, trying unsuccessfully to surrender to surprise.

‘Because it’s adorable,’ he beams, turning finally to gaze at you. Propelled forward by his motion, you bump into his chest and let yourself become enveloped in his embrace. ‘You’re so pink and frustrated.’

You cling to him, hoping for reassurance and understanding, trying to let yourself feel surprised with this date. Somewhere, excitement begins to build, and you try to focus on it, to release the disappointment of a meal at your favourite restaurant, and to give over to trust. Breathing in the scent of his cologne, you steady yourself, let your fingers wind tightly in the fabric of his coat.

Jongin would not make a choice this large, not without conversation and certainly not without you. A simple fact, a heady truth, and one that makes the tension in your muscles relax.

‘I’m not pink,’ you whine into his chest.

His lips come to the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your hair before pulling into a smile. ‘You’re very pink,’ he whispers, and you grin at the sensation of his breath moving individual strands, tickling you with his non-touch. ‘We’re here by the way.’

Stepping back to look at him, you study his expression momentarily, taking in the flush at his cheeks and the emotions that glisten in his eyes. Wherever he has taken you is meaningful, heavy, makes him suck his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from explaining everything all at once. Bouncing slightly, he studies you in return, willing you to want this gift as much as he does, and you think seeing him like this, boyish and wild, makes you limitless.

It does not matter what he gives you because it is an extension of his love, and his love makes you boundless.

Glancing up at the storefront, you realize with a start it is not a store at all. On a vinyl awning spanning the length of the building, the letters ASPCA are printed in blue letters. It hits you all at once, and paradoxically does not come at all, your mind blanking as your mind rushes to form words.

‘Jongin,’ you whisper, not taking your eyes off the letters. ‘What is this?’

It is not the question you want to ask, not even the question you meant to ask, rather it is an amalgam of every question, every thought you are able to formulate. Memories swim, some vivid and some faded, formless things you can no longer entirely recall, but all containing the wish of something to love. How long had you talked about it, the silence in the house that could be filled by such a small thing? Years, you think, perhaps from the moment you moved in together. Perhaps, from the moment you met.

‘I know it’s super early, but…’ Jongin’s voice leaves him, emotions turning it thick before it disappears completely.

Turning your gaze back to him, you see how relieved he is for you to know the truth, a weight seemingly lifted from his shoulders. It’s the most relaxed you’d seen him in weeks, the giving over to wonder and bliss.

‘Jongin.’ His name on your lips feels like enough, feels like a gift in itself, and it’s all you can manage before he breaks from you to head inside.

‘Hi,’ he says as he reaches the reception, ‘I’m here to pick up Abby?’

The sound of the name sparks something within you that traverses the line between terror and elation, and you briefly think on how those emotions feel the same, relying entirely on context.

‘I’m sorry,’ he explains, turning to see your somewhat blank expression and starting to panic, words coming in a rush. ‘I know we should have talked about it and chosen together, but I saw her and thought she was perfect. And then I came here two weeks ago and met her and she’s completely perfect. I just - ’

Your gasp of surprise cuts of him off, the sight of a kind looking young woman carrying a Corgi puppy in her arms. Abby wiggles excitedly at the sight of you and Jongin, as though recalling Jongin and wanting to be with him once more. She’s a flash of tan and white, small and beautiful.

Moving past Jongin, you greet her with wide, wet eyes.

‘Hello,’ you coo, running a finger over her snout and laughing at the softness.

‘Sit with her,’ the assistant says, lowering Abby to the floor and handing you the lead as she turns to Jongin. ‘We can finish up the paperwork.’

Lowering yourself to the floor, you let Abby walk around you in circles as she sniffs. It takes a mighty effort, not reaching for her and simply letting her learn you in her own time. But she takes to you quickly, just as eager as you to be in your lap and in your arms, her tiny body trying to climb over your legs.

‘Let me help you,’ you laugh softly, lifting her gently to rest in your lap.

The warm of her fur feels like holding a small sun, and your heart skips at the familiar sensation, just like when you hold Jongin close. Immediately, you see her as family, as the missing piece of a life with him you did not know had been absent. As though she cannot get enough of you, she crawls up to your chest, paws pressing into you in earnest to get and remain close. She yelps for your attention, happy and excited and desperate to love you, and so you lift her, cuddle her into your chest and laugh as her warm tongue glides along your jaw.

Like this, you fall into your own world, eyes closed and falling in love all over again. Abby’s heartbeat races against your chest, fragile and delicate like a hummingbird, while your own heart opens and makes room to fit her inside, easily and without question.

Rustled movement catches your attention, and you open your eyes to see Jongin settling to kneel before you. Eyes wide, he watches the way Abby turns her attention to him, conflicted, as as though she is eclipsing two suns, unable to discern where her focus should lie. His expression matches your own, one of pure love and adoration, a flush creeping up his neck as he struggles to keep his composure.

Reaching out to stroke her head, he speaks quietly, reverently. ‘I know how much you always wanted a Corgi, and -’

‘She’s perfect,’ you whisper in response, unable to tear your eyes from her small form.

For a while, he remains silent and lets the world fade, wrapping you both in a bubble of protective adoration. ‘I know,’ comes his eventual, quiet reply.

‘Is she really ours?’ you ask, looking up at him finally.

Wetness runs down your cheeks, making your brow furrow. You don’t know when you started crying.

‘Mostly,’ Jongin hums, scratching under Abby’s chin. Luxuriating in his touch momentarily, she walks between you and he, eager for both of your hands. ‘She’s yours.’

Ours, you think, the love you feel for them both unable to be contained by the confines of your heart. ‘You couldn’t wait, could you?’

It’s unlike him, really, to give gifts so early. Tradition consumes his actions, making meaning behind every gift and every thought, but this, you think, is how everyday with him will be. Unremarkable days suddenly becoming extraordinary simply because he makes them so. This gift was yours as much as his, a readiness to call you his family and build it further consuming his every thought.

Like this, he is no longer able to contain his love for you, his desperation to keep you in a perpetual state of bliss bordering on urgent.

‘Do you really think I could?’ he says, sheepishly.

At this, you laugh, letting Abby nuzzle into your palm The softness of her softens your entire reality, your voice filling with warmth. ‘You’re turning into Yeol.’

Shaking his head, he lets his hand rub circles over Abby’s rump. ‘It’s you, Duchess,’ he urges, gently, peering at you bashfully through his eyelashes.

Cocking your head to the side, you hear his words and let yourself swoon. ‘It’s you, too.’

No, you think. It’s us.

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rinnnyxr · 3 years

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I don’t really care for Owl City. I either love you or hate you, sorry there’s no in between with me. When telling a story, I say “I was like” a lot. I always want what I can’t have and I hate it. I’ve waited around months and months to be with a guy. Being in a bad mood is a normal thing for me. It always takes me forever to really get over someone I really liked. I think it’s hilarious when you’re sitting there laughing, while trying to order at the drive-thru. Liz Lee’s voice is incredible. I’d rather text you than call, it’s less awkward. I don’t eat that much. I’m always listening to music, tapping my hands on things, or singing something. Honestly, I have a sweating problem that I’m quite embarrassed about. I get really really paranoid at times. I need to let the fuck go of someone. I know what “The Situation” drinking game is. I really need to make some more friends. I don’t really leave my house at all, it’s pathetic. I love having the house to myself. Spinning around and around doesn’t mix well with me. I need to get with the program and get the internet on my phone. I love songs I can sing along to, even though I sing like shit. I always seem to be missing my past. I need to start working outttt. I’d love to be on a TV show like Jersey Shore. I have a fear of my hair falling out. My legs fall asleep everyday. I could listen to music all day long. I haven’t eaten yet today. I always spill my drink all over myself. Whenever I’m out, I don’t want to go home. When I’m home, I don’t want to go out. What gives? I tell people how it is, I don’t sugar coat anything. A lotttt of the songs on my iPod I do not listen to. I’ve always been a reeeally picky eater.

Your name begins with an A. You’re Caucasian. You’re over the age of twenty. You’re a Virgo. Your parents are divorced. You’re overweight. You suffer from chronic anxiety. You love to read. You enjoy going to concerts. You have a younger sibling. You’re really pale. You hate seafood. You’re finished with high school. You like to write. You like to explore abandoned houses. You use Mozilla Firefox. You’ve never broken a bone. You wear mostly black. You have only one grandparent that’s still alive. You prefer white chocolate over dark chocolate. You like cats more than dogs. You have a lot of allergies. You prefer light liquor over dark. You’re terrified of heights. You love horror movies. You like to interpret your dreams. You only have a handful of “real” friends. You don’t have a license. You like to browse through thrift stores. You love strawberries. Your room is painted a dark color. You cling onto the past, as much as you wish to let it go. You dislike the way you look. Your hair is naturally curly. You’ve had your nose pierced. You prefer hot weather over cold weather. You get along better with your mom than your dad. You have neat handwriting. You dislike country music. You’ve been bullied. Your sleeping pattern is really screwed up. Your eyes are blue. You wear glasses. You have short legs. You believe in the paranormal. You have a famous ancestor. You listen to a lot of alternative music. You don’t know how to whistle. Turtles are your favorite animal. You live in the southern United States. You get on Reddit and Tumblr way too much. You like to do jigsaw puzzles. You believe in LGBQT rights. You love the ocean. You’ve met a celebrity. You don’t watch a lot of TV. You’ve seen your favorite band(s) live. You dislike discussing politics and religion.

You own more than four red shirts. Your name is longer than five letters. The room you’re in has a calendar. You love the band All Time Low. You hate fish. You loved playing with big balls when you were younger. You believe that the number thirteen is cursed. You wish you could see a real pirate. You like dark jeans better than light jeans. You hate hunting. You don’t like to wear coats. You’re older than 21. The brand of computer you’re on is Toshiba. Your name has more than two syllables in it. Your shirt is more than one color. You hated gym class. You don’t like talking about your family. Your dad is almost or is bald. You can’t wait to get married. Your first date was to the movies. You’re Facebook friends with your crush. You came home and took a nap. Someone in your family has had a stroke. You would love to have a pet tiger if you could. You’ve never danced in the rain, but you want to. You’ve never been in a hot air balloon. You’re afraid of mice. You’ve bought tickets to a concert and it was canceled. You like wearing your hair half up. You’re usually online for more than four hours a day. You like meatloaf. You have brown eyes. Your phone doesn’t have any scratches on it. You play the game Draw Something. You like tulips. You’re more negative than positive. You’ve made your own t-shirt before. Your shirt has words on it. You think glitter is the greatest thing invented. You don’t like to fart in public. You don’t have a dog. You’ve never been drunk before. Your brother has blue eyes. Baseball is a sport that you like.

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