#( save ) / ✦ you were just speaking from your heart .
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marril96 · 1 day ago
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Just as Promised
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Summary: Agatha saving your life leads to a heart-to-heart.
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A split second was all it took for your entire world to crumble down like a house of cards.
You and Agatha usually got along fine, but today, tensions were through the roof since the moment you opened your eyes.
You were sick of the cat and mouse games, sick of longing stares that led to nothing and comforting hands on shoulders and bodies brushing against one another, convenient accidents that were anything but.
You demanded an answer: did she want to be with you or not?
You weren't opposed to staying friends; having her in your life, even as a casual acquaintance, would have been more than enough. But you needed her to say it. If she didn't want to take whatever it was the two of you had going on further, so be it. All she needed to do was speak up.
Agatha being Agatha, she kept giving vague answers that eventually became jokes, until she straight up refused to speak at all. Furious, you started screaming at her. She retorted with sarcasm, which only made you angrier.
Today, of all days, being your trial didn't help matters.
You were distracted, unable to concentrate. Even with the help of the rest of the coven, your mind kept straying to Agatha and your undefined relationship. Her snippy comments didn't help the situation; if anything, they made it worse.
Alice, ever the peacemaker, kept trying to get the two of you to knock it off. Unsuccessfully so, for it was hard to lower the tensions when one side seemed intent on raising them by any means necessary.
Thankfully, you managed to find enough willpower to push through and successfully complete the trial.
The door of the house you were locked in opened.
And then the furniture and cutlery and various appliances started rattling and flying about as if they had a mind of their own. As if it wanted you and the coven out as soon as possible, or there would be hell to pay for overstaying your welcome.
Everyone rushed out, avoiding chairs and knives and random junk, hands covering their heads in protection.
You followed in kind, yelping as your foot got caught on a toaster and you fell down like a sack of potatoes. Shit. It was just your luck to trip and fall at the most inconvenient time.
What was next? Was an anvil going to drop on your head?
The thought hadn't fully left your head before you heard Agatha screaming your name. She shoved you, hard, to the left; it was going to leave a mark hours from now.
You didn't have time to process what had just happened when a chandelier smashed to the ground, right at the spot you'd occupied just a second before.
Right at the spot where Agatha now stood.
"No!" you screamed, stomach twisting into knots, heart soaring, booming in your chest like a bomb.
As if a switch inside of you had flipped, none of what had happened earlier mattered anymore. Agatha's refusal to tell you what she wanted, if she wanted you. Her constant snide remarks. The roll of her eyes and the mockery in her tone.
She could have slaughtered someone in front of you, and it wouldn't have mattered. You would have forgiven her.
So long as she was okay.
"Agatha!" you yelled, frantic. "Help! Help!"
Don't die, you pleaded. Begged. Demanded. Please, don't die. Please. You couldn't lose her now, just as the two of you had reconnected after years of being apart. You needed her in your life. You couldn't imagine your life without her.
Alice and Teen ran up to you, having heard your pleas amidst the ruckus of flying furniture and trash. It took a few tries, but, with joint effort and a little bit of magic, you managed to push the chandelier off Agatha.
She was on the ground, seemingly unharmed. Unconscious, but alive. Relief flooded you as you felt the pulse on her neck. She was okay. She was going to be okay.
The three of you held her up and got her out. You bared your magic, eyes glowing as you willed the flying items away from you. Sparks enveloping your hands as you blasted them away.
It was over. Finally, you could put the nightmare of your trial and that weird house behind.
Then the realization that Agatha wasn't waking up set in and you were back where you started; nervous, terrified, shaking like a leaf in fall wind.
It took some pleading and begging for Jen to agree to make a potion — much alike to the one she'd made for Teen when he'd gotten impaled by glass, with slight changes for, unlike his, Agatha's injuries were internal. Internal bleeding, concussion, something else, all of the above; you didn't know what was wrong, couldn't possibly make a guess, but you owed it to her to fix it.
The only reason she was in this predicament was that she was protecting you.
Once the potion was done, and, with help, ingested, you and the others found a comfortable, quiet spot for Agatha to rest. Her head was on your lap, her coat spread over her like a blanket, one of your hands gently stroking her head while the other held onto her hand. It was strange to see her so vulnerable, so fragile. As if one wrong move would break her. And to think it was all because of you…
Jen could accuse her of having no humanity all she wanted. Agatha had a soul. She had a heart. She cared. She loved. She felt. No different than anyone else. Just because she hid her true self better didn't mean she was heartless.
She was just scared.
From all she's told you of her life, starting from her early childhood, she had every right to be.
"She saved you," Teen said. The others had left to make a fire; he wanted to stick around.
"She did," you said. "She's saved me many times."
He nodded in acknowledgment. "People are saying all kinds of things about her."
"Don't believe everything you hear." Especially about Agatha. People loved making up stories about her. The worse the slander, the juicier the gossip.
"Can you tell me, then? The truth."
"It's not mine to tell "
You'd asked her once why she allowed people to say horrid things about her. Her response was pretty much, "Let them talk." It wasn't worth it to get worked up over it. Rumors would spread either way. She knew the truth, and so did you. That was all that mattered to her.
She didn't want you to get involved.
So, you didn't.
Her secrets were hers to reveal.
"I can tell you one thing," you said. "She isn't the monster they make her out to be. Don't get me wrong, she's far from an angel, but she's no monster, either. Keep that in mind the next time you hear some wild story."
To his credit, the kid took in every word. "I will."
The two of you sat in silence for a while, until he stood up to join the rest of the coven around the fire. "Take care of her."
"Of course."
It was a given, after everything she's done for you over the centuries.
After she'd pushed you out of the way and saved your life at the cost of her own.
The arguments the two of you had had throughout the day seemed silly now. Ridiculous. Completely and utterly unnecessary. What did it matter how your relationship was defined? She cared about you. She almost died for you. In her own wordless way, she loved you.
In the grand scheme of things, romance didn't matter.
Life wasn't a genie. There was no lamp to rub, no wishes to yell at the top of your lungs. You didn't always get what you wanted. 
It would do you good to be happy with what you had.
A living friend was better than a dead lover.
Silence engulfed you like a blanket. You tuned out the cracking of the fire, the jokes and laughter of your coven. Useless background noise you neither had the strength nor willpower to entertain. Leaned against a tree, your eyes were on Agatha, safe and warm in your lap. She looked so peaceful. As if she were in deep slumber instead of rid of consciousness.
You should have been there when she'd gone up against Wanda Maximoff. You should have had her back. If you'd helped her, fought with her, maybe she wouldn't have been forced to lose three years of her life to a mind control spell.
She wouldn't have lost three years of her life to torture.
Because that was what that was. Wanda could have just let her be. She was powerless. She couldn't hurt anyone. Locking her inside her mind was cruelty for the sake of being cruel.
Why hadn't she asked you to go with her? Why hadn't she told you what she was planning?
Would it have done her any good?
You were with her now, and she'd almost died.
You'd let her down.
You would have let her down back then, too.
Tears pricked at your eyes like needles. Maybe that was why she didn't give you straight answers when you demanded she make a choice about your relationship. You were a sucky witch. Even now, sucked dry, powerless, Agatha was more powerful than you.
She'd been with Death herself, for fuck's sake. The woman had a type, and it wasn't lowly witches like you.
She was trying to let you down gently.
Tenderly, you stroked her hair and rubbed her shoulder. It's okay, you thought. I'm not mad. Reality was a bitch. That was just a fact. There was no use getting worked up over it. You would never reach the power level of someone like Rio. She liked them big and bad, and you were neither. You would always be neither.
You would always be a friend. Nothing less, and nothing more.
Agatha stirring shook you from your thoughts. A small moan escaped her mouth, one of pain, discomfort. She blinked, once, twice, three times, before her eyes settled on yours up above.
You smiled. "Hey, you. Welcome back."
"What happened?"
"You got crushed by a chandelier."
"Oh. Right." She sighed, nonchalant. As if that sort of thing happened every day.
"You probably shouldn't move much. Jen said it'll take a few hours for the potion to heal everything up."
Agatha grunted as she shifted to a more comfortable position. "That's just peachy."
A pang of guilt twisted in your heart. "Sorry."
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
Wasn't it? "It is, though. You saved me."
Agatha groaned. "Oh, don't get all sappy. It's a bad look."
For whom? For you, or for her?
Only one of you had a reputation to uphold.
"Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Agatha, I'm serious. You saved my life."
"Consider it tit for tat, toots."
That was how the two of you had first met a couple centuries ago. You were hunting a witch hunter, and he was hunting her. You'd gotten to him just as he was about to put a bullet in her brain — from behind, covertly, of course, for hunters were nothing if not cowards.
Agatha was intrigued by your tenacity to make the predator into prey.
You were enthralled by her presence, itself.
She'd matched your freak, and you'd matched hers.
The rest was history.
You couldn't hold back a laugh. Expect her to crack jokes at most inconvenient times. Agatha laughed along, but her face instantly twisted and a hiss burst from her mouth.
"Hey, hey. Be careful," you told her. 
"This is a drag," she said, frustrated. She hated being helpless. As if losing her power wasn't enough; now she could barely move without being in pain.
"Want me to move? Maybe you'll be more comfortable on the ground," you said.
"No," Agatha said before the final word was out of your mouth. "Stay. I'm good like this."
"Okay."
Whatever she wanted, she would get. You owed her that much after she'd saved your life. If that meant holding back the need to pee for hours so she could rest her head on your lap, so be it.
You were a grownass woman. You could do this.
"Sorry for being such a bitch today," you said. "It wasn't fair to put you on the spot like that."
Pressuring her into something she clearly wasn't comfortable with was wrong. If she wanted to be more than friends, she would've told you. She had a mouth, and she wasn't afraid to use it.
She was trying to let you down gently, and you'd escalated the situation.
Agatha sighed. "I was hoping that particular topic wouldn't come up."
"I'm sorry," you said, and you meant it. "I just thought we could talk about it now that we're alone."
"Thought you'd take advantage of me being unable to leave?"
You weren't sure how to read her tone. Your cheeks burned. "N-No, of course not. I-I just—"
"Relax, honey." She grinned. "I'm just pulling your leg."
You let out a breath of the kind of relief you'd never experienced before. Gritting your teeth, you slid an arm down Agatha's body and gently put pressure on her side.
A yelp much like that of a wounded puppy escaped her mouth.
You smirked. "That's what you get for being mean."
"Are you seriously gonna torture me when I can't even defend myself?"
No. You weren't Wanda.
"Totally. It's my entire goal in life," you snarked. Then, voice softening, "Did I hurt you bad?"
"You do know I'm not made of glass, right?"
"Just checking. You did get hurt because of me, after all." And you would never forget it. If, for no other reason, than to remind people that she wasn't the heartless bitch they all thought of her as.
"That's one way of putting it," Agatha said.
The other being that she had made a conscious choice to push you out of the way of that chandelier. She'd made a choice to get hurt.
She'd made a choice to protect you at the cost of herself.
"I really am sorry," you told her. "For everything. I'm happy with the way things are between us. Nothing needs to change."
Agatha sighed. "Y/N…"
"It's fine. Really." A tear slid down your cheek. You wiped it away like a speck of dust marring a spotless surface. Another followed suit, dripping onto Agatha's forehead.
She looked up, then, a painted grimace contorting her face, she moved sideways, just enough so her eyes could connect with yours and her hands could cup your cheeks from below. Her touch was tender, comforting; you leaned into it, closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, to bask in the sensation.
"You are, by far, one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me," she said with such intent, such fervor that could come from nothing but the absolute truth.
Your heart sped up, a marathon that was well on its way to kill you.
Were your ears fooling you? Did she really just say that?
Did she…?
She did.
Her eyes all but confirmed the words you couldn't believe had come out of her mouth.
Agatha Harkness didn't speak like that. She never said things like that, especially not to you.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.
Yet, somehow, it was. It could.
You took in a large breath to steady yourself. Don't freak out, you were telling yourself. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. This was a serious conversation. You couldn't afford to ruin it with childish antics. Goddamn it, Agatha!
Why did she have to spring it on you like that, as if it was the most casual thing in the world? As if speaking to you like that was an everyday occurrence.
In your daydreams, absolutely. In real life? You might as well have been dreaming.
Clearing your throat, in your most totally-not-falling-apart tone, you asked, "Why the runaround, then?"
A sad smile flickered on Agatha's mouth. A wordless admittance of defeat before the battle had even started. "I ruin everything I touch."
"That's not true!" You didn't let Jen talk shit about her in your presence, and you sure as hell weren't going to let her do that, either. 
"Yes, it is," she insisted, relentless. Dead set on putting herself down, denying herself what she deserved for that was what everyone had done her entire life. "And I refuse to ruin you."
You, on the other hand, refused to let her ruin this. You refused to let her ruin the potential of something beautiful.
"Dunno if you've noticed, but I'm pretty much ruined all on my own." You'd killed, too. You'd ruined lives, manipulated, destroyed just as she had. She wasn't special.
And even if you were pure, if you were to turn back time and make your ledger white and untainted like it used to be, once upon a time, you would happily let her paint it red.
You would let her ruin you all over again.
Agatha was silent for a moment. Then, in her weakest, most vulnerable tone, she uttered, "You're still alive."
Her son. Taken from her too soon. Gone in the night without a goodbye. Destined to die before he'd even taken his first death. Living on borrowed time until it had expired just as suddenly as it had been gifted.
A fresh batch of tears poured from your eyes, spilling over her fingers. "Don't do that. Don't go there."
Agatha's eyes sparkled with tears of her own. "How can I not?"
"I won't leave you," you said, and you meant it. You meant every word, and more. "I won't die. Not anytime soon."
"You can't promise that."
"I can promise I'll do my best to try. Why is that not enough?"
You couldn't promise her forever — there was no such thing — but what you could promise was as close to that as was possible. Home. Shelter. Warmth. All in the shape of you. She would never have to be alone again. Centuries of not just friendship, but a partnership. Even closer than you were now.
All you needed was her permission.
All you needed was a yes.
"I can't lose yet another person I…"
Love.
Though she would never say it out loud, especially not around other people.
"Agatha," you said softly. Warmly. Lovingly. "I'm not going anywhere. That's one of the few things I can promise you. No matter what happens, I won't leave you, and I won't hurt you. Ever."
You never have, and you never would. You loved her too much to cause her harm. You cared about her too much to allow for anything of the sort to happen.
"We don't have to be together. I'm not trying to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with," you continued. "I just don't think it's fair that you're denying yourself good things in life based on a what if. You deserve for good things to happen to you. You deserve to be happy again."
It didn't have to be with you. She could look for happiness wherever she wanted. But she deserved it. You would be damned if you allowed her to take it away from herself.
Agatha gave a chuckle; a sad, broken one. "You're the only one who thinks so."
"Since when do you care what people think?"
She allowed them to think she murdered her own son, that she had traded him for a book of dark magic. She allowed them to think her heartless. Cruel. A monster. She allowed them to think the worst, and had never said a word to correct them. Had banned you from setting the record straight.
Why did it matter if they didn't think she deserved to be happy?
They were nothing.
She was everything.
"I don't," she agreed. "I care about what you think."
She took hold of one of your hands and brought it down to her mouth. Her lips pressed to your fingers, a soft, tender kiss that sent electric sparks through your entire body. Your eyes fell closed for a moment. You were lost in this little gesture; you could get lost in it forever.
Her lips were a welcome presence everywhere, on every part of your body. Whichever part of you she wanted to claim, she could. You were hers in any way she desired, spoils of a war you never fought. You surrendered willingly.
"Don't say that just because you think that's what I wanna hear," you said, just in case. Still in disbelief that this was happening, that she was so vulnerable, so exposed with you. That she wasn't scared that you were going to hurt her, or turn your back on her.
Agatha frowned. "When have you ever known me to do that?"
Fair point.
You smiled. "Just making sure."
"If I wasn't injured, I would kiss you silly for being such an idiot."
Your cheeks burned. "Is that a promise?"
"It's a threat," she clarified with a smirk.
"I hope you intend to make good on it."
"Oh, honey, I do. Trust me."
"I'm holding you to it."
"Have I ever lied to you?"
You pondered on it. "Well, there was that time back in—"
Agatha smacked your hand, prompting both of you to laugh.
"You're my pet now," she said.
You raised an eyebrow. "Pet? Really?"
"What? Did you have something else in mind?" she said with feigned ignorance, mouth pulled into a mocking pout.
"Well, I was thinking something more… equal." But you would take pet.
Pet was fine.
She pretended to think about it. "I suppose I could upgrade you to a girlfriend."
Girlfriend.
Your heart was in shambles. You, all of you, were in shambles. A wooden house barely holding itself together after a hurricane had passed through it, destroying everything in its path. One wrong move, or breath, or thought, and you would crumble 
Girlfriend.
You repeated the word in your head, again and again, Agatha's voice an echo in the vast hallway that was your mind.
Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.
This was real. It wasn't a hallucination, or a dream, or a cruel prank.
After a long, hard day of hissy fits and arguments, Agatha had finally told you what she wanted.
And it was you.
"I-I like that," you muttered, too stunned to say much else. Gods knew you wanted to say a lot, much more than your mouth could currently handle.
Agatha smirked, ever the tease. "You do, don't you?"
"Mmhm." You took her hands in yours and laid a kiss — two, three — to her knuckles, just as she had to yours. "Hurry up getting better. I want that threat-kiss."
"Oh, honey, you won't know what hit you."
"I better not."
"Are you doubting me?"
Never. "Just building anticipation."
Agatha licked her lips. "In that case, keep it up."
So, you did.
And, a couple hours later, she kissed you as if both your lives depended on it. As if you would die if your mouths were ever to part.
Just as promised.
*****
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endereies · 17 hours ago
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FEEL BETTER YET? - MS
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No Nut November - Day 7
NNN Masterlist...
-➤ When you are on your period, Matt is always there to look after you
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Every month you endured pain like no other, your abdomen puncturing you from the inside out. It was only 3am but it felt like you had been up for hours, tossing and turning to find any relief. Painkillers failed to aid you and if you moved too much, spurts of nausea floated around your body.
The one thing you were concerned about was not staining your boyfriend’s sheets underneath you. You had already changed a few times in the night, at that point it was better to stay there. The entirety of your body was pushed against the radiator, locating any lingering warmth you could without having to manually do it yourself.
It was agonising, the fact this had to happen at all to you made emotions sky rocket. The trembles of your body matched the way your breathing shuddered when your stomach clenched.
Just as another tear fell, the light above you flickered on.
“Baby? Fuck…are you okay?” Matt was by your side in an instant, his touch giving you the warm you desperately were trying to clutch onto. He was quietly analysing you and the scene in front of him as his concern increased. Each time you wanted to speak smoothly, the sharp pains constructed you. It just made you whimper in pain and it broke Matt’s heart.
He was used to you having rough periods, but this was on another level. You could breathe. You couldn’t think clearly, your mind fogged with the sheer agony within.
“Why aren’t you in bed baby, you could’ve woken me…you know that…” His tone was gentle and made you sob a few more tears before any words left.
“I- I didn’t want to bloody your sheets..or uh bother you…” You looked away once you saw his face twist into one almost filled with guilt. Independency was idolised by you, he saw it in everything you did. But he wanted to take care of you, this was the small sliver he had and he was going to use that.
“I’ll be back, okay? Just two seconds my love.” Just as quickly as he spoke, he left. The light above remained on, a signal he was still there. Rustling was heard in the distance but once the pain surged it was hard to focus on. Everything was too much. Towels bunched up around you, trying to protect you from the pain, no matter how much it didn’t work.
The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.
Matt returned quickly with his hands full on certain products you couldn’t quite make out. “So first off, I got the chocolates from the fridge I saved for you, and some of those sweets you like to chew…” The packets were held up as he showed them off to you. “I got some of the stronger medications for if you needed to top off with them, uh, I grabbed your socks too and just made a hot water bottle for you. I know last time was a little too hot, so I put some cold water into it as well. “
His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed, if they weren't already by your expression. Your lips switched into a small smile, full of gratitude towards him.
“I- Thank you…really”
“Anytime, I mean that. I just want to be here for you, no matter what.” You let out a small chuckle, allowing yourself to finally give into his efforts to take care of you, you needed it in the moment. Not that you’d admit that to him. He quickly placed the items on your his bed before returning to your side.
One arm reached under your knees while the other supported your back as he pulled you to his chest. It was warm and it was safe. You almost forgot about the pain. Almost.
He lowered you onto the mattress on your side of the bed before handing you the hot water bottle, along side your medication and a drink. He wanted to look after you, not overwhelm you. Matt pulled back from you, climbing under the duvet alongside you.
“I don’t want you to worry about the sheets or bothering me, just worry about yourself. You’re my priority and I never wanting you to think that ill ignore your pain. Never ever will I do that to you sweetheart.” His voice was barely heard over my breathing and a part of you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t.
Subconsciously your body drew close towards him, the heat of the bottle inching closer to his skin until your head lay on his shoulder. “Feel better yet?” You nodded slightly. The pain had subsided, the bottle and his words warming the aches away.
“I love you, you know that right?” A soft smile covered his lips, placing a light kiss on your head.
“I love you too..”
This was what you needed.
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© ENDEREIES 2024
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petew21-blog · 1 day ago
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An apple a day...
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21st January 2021
Dr. Mikhail Varshavski, or how many people know him - Doctor Mike, is a famous succesful physician and an influencer making money out of his YouTube videos etc. Still taking a bit of his time to examine patients between his videos and interviews.
But today an elderly patient was suppse to come for a visit. Mikhail decided to make it a tv spot where the satisfied patient would come to the hospital and thanked him for treating him.
The patient's name was Arnold Jefferson, a 71 year old man suffering many conditions, such as diabetes, arthritis, hypertension and many many more. Quite common in older people.
Mr. Jefferson arrived an unaware of the upcoming spotilight was greeted by am assistant and led to a room with cameras.
Mr. Jefferson:"I was supposed to come for a vistit with Dr. Varshavski."
Assistant:"Doctor Mike wants to speak to you in front of the camera if that's ok? I am sure you have already signed multiple forms considering your privacy, while in his care. So we won't keep you long and I will go get doctor Mike."
Mr. Jefferson looked around confused. He came for a one on one dialogue, not an interview. He had no interest in all of this.
Docotr Mike arrived to the room. His hair ready, wearing his best scrubs that were ironed that day.
Mikhail:"Good morning, Mr. Jefferson. How are we feeling today?"
Mr. Jefferson:"Good morning. I.. well just as I normally do." he spoke nervously, looking at the cameras and the crew.
Mikhail spoke loudly for the microphone above them to hear and smiled way more than usual. "Amazing. We will do a standard check up and then we will take a look at your blood tests together. Is that ok?"
Mr. Jefferson nodded and was then examined in front of the camera. But they also did many photos where they were wearing masks and touched each other with elbows just to prove how safe they were while handling the ongoing pandemic.
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He felt uncomfortable. "Could I please be examined alone for the part where I get to undress?"
The smile from doctor Mike's face disappeared. "Sure. Yeah. Can all of you from the crew go and take 5? Thank you. We will finish with Mr. Jefferson quickly.
The crew left and Dr. Mike was left alone with the patient.
Mr. Jefferson:"You complicated things for me, you know? I would have done this much sooner."
Doctor Mike had his stethoscope in his ears listening to Mr. Jefferson's heart. "What do you mean by that?" he said confused by what the patient said.
Mr. Jefferson placed his hands on Dr. Mike's head. "This". Flashes of lights shined between the two of them. Mikhail wanted to run away, but the force from Mr. Jefferson's hands was so strong. He couldn't let go.
Mikhail's eyes closed by themselves. He didn't see anything.
The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was his reflection. Nothing unusual. He saw his face everyday in the mirror. But he felt anxious as soon as his body started moving on his own and flexed.
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His body spoke out loud:"Oh my. It feels great to be this young again. It seems you take a great care for your body, Mikhail. Or I should say Arnold now."
Mikhail was in disbelief. What was happening? Is this all real?. "What did you do to me?"
Arnold:"I didn't hear that question for a very long time now. It will be easier to show you." he handed him the mirror. In the reflection was the same old man that he trested seconds ago. He touched his face and the reflection did the same.
Mikhail:"How are you doing this?"
Arnold:"Couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I am honestly not sure."
Mikhail:"Why me? I am a doctor. I am not someone you should steal life away from."
Arnold:"You almost answered your question. If I don't have the right to do that then why should you? Remember my wife you treated? How you misdiagnosed her?"
Mikhail:"This is medicine. Mistakes can happen. It's not an exact science. Sometimes we don't have the power to save everyone."
Arnold:"Maybe. But my wife was special, like me, you know. We did the same thing I just did for you for almost a century. But we fell in love with the life that these bodies had. The love they had for each other, the family. We even had a new young couple found to move over to, but you just had to fuck it up. So... let my face be a constant reminder of what you messed up."
Mikhail:"You can't do this. No one will believe you. Everyone will find out. I will tell them."
Arnold:"Yeah, not really my concern. Whenever one of you does this, they end up in a mental hospital. So I guess it's up to you now, if you want to finish the shooting quietly or get a quick ticket for mental hospital for the short rest of your life you have left. So what's it gonna be?"
They finished the spot and Mikhail in Arnold's body was escorted out of the hospital. He was old now. His body ached. Every step he took was like a needle. He was picked up by one of his family members. He had no idea who it was. His son? Grandson? Maybe they'll know more about the swapping. Maybe the clues will be inside the house. Or maybe none at all.
18th February 2021
Mikhail sat in his new arm chair and held a mug in his hands. It has been almost a month since he lost his body.
One of his grandsons played with a tablet next to him.
Mikhail:"What are you doing there, Joe?"
Joe:"You wouldn't understand, grandpa."
Mikhail:"Maybe I would. How about you show me?"
Joe gave him initial instructions he would normally give Arnold, but Mikhail already knew all of this and confidently asked for him to put up YouTube.
Joe was surprised that his grandpa now knew all this, but he did what grandpa asked him to do.
They found Doctor Mike's channel. There was only one new video from the last time that Mikhail has posted anything.
The video had a bad quality. The one who edited the video was definitely an amateur.
The name of the video was: Why I decided to quit medicine
Mikhail froze. His life was all about being in the medical field. And now Arnold ruined it all.
He played the video. Arnold seemed very happy with his new body, because he kept touching his arms, his pecs and hair even while talking about how unsatisfied he became while working as a doctor.
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Mikhail took the tablet and searched for more information about his old body. He found information about a lawsuit for malpractice, that the new doctor Mike how faced.
But something kuch worse caught his attention. An Only Fans account.
Mikhail left the room with the tablet and his grandson screaming behind him. But he didn't care about that now. He opened the page and immediately subscribed while entering his credit card info.
The page unlocked.
Mikhail had tears in his eyes. There were videos of his old body pleasuring himself, embarassing himself, pleasuring others...
All of that for a bit of money from horny peopl, that wanted to see the famous doctor.
Mikhail decided to send a message that cost extra money.
He sat there for a while and thought about what it would say.
"Dear, doctor Mike. Or maybe you still remember your old name, Arnold. I wanted to say something mean about you ruining my life. But after watching the videos, I have to say I miss my body. Even though I would want it back I don't expect you'd give it like that for free. But maybe you could let me enjoy that body once again from someone else's view? What do you think? It might get a lot of views.
Sincerley,
Dr. Mike Arnold Jefferson"
On the other side of the screen sat Arnold in front of the computer, his dick hard. Reading the message from his old body.
"This might be interesting" he said, grinning mischievously.
Two woman called out behind him from the bed:"Coming to bed, honey?"
Arnold smiled and turned around. "Ready for round three?"
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Anonymous request from inbox
Could you please write a body swap story where an elderly patient steals Dr. Mike’s body when he is seen by him for a visit?
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fic-dumpster · 2 days ago
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Hate is such a strong word
Pairing: Bully!Ran Haitani x F!Reader
Word count: 860
Warnings: MDNI, hate fuck sort of, very confused and obsessed Ran, degradation, corruption kink, bullying, mean Ran, noncon, tongue kissing, PiV, cunnilingus, fingering, words such as cock/pussy/cunt/whore/bitch/slut, headcanon-ish format. Idk… let me know if I missed anything!
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Bully!Ran who hates your guts. He sees you walking around all pristine and clean. Not a single hair was out of place. He hates that. Not even makeup he could imagine running down your face when he eventually makes you cry.
Bully!Ran who can’t stand your voice when you speak in class. He hates your laughter when you’re talking with your friends at lunch and above all, he despises your humming when you’re standing in front of your locker. His locker is in the same row and has to stand your shitty voice every damn time.
Bully!Ran who can’t even stand being near you so he makes Rindou throw your books to the floor, send your phone flying, and pull your well-kept hair. Ran sickly enjoys watching you on your knees after his brother trips you.
Bully!Ran who got tired of you. Tired of you not noticing all the things you made him feel.
Bully!Ran who one morning snatched you up from your last class, cornering you in the gym closet. Oh, how he relished in your begging. You were gonna lose your perfect attendance? He couldn’t care less. You were gonna miss an important class? Fuck that.
Bully!Ran who clamped your face in one hand, wishing that you at least wore some eyeliner or lipgloss so he could smear it all over your pretty face he so much despised. He has to make do with what he has, right? Your tears and his cum would decorate your skin so well.
Bully!Ran who has you squirming like the worm you are in his hold. His other hand quickly wrenched away your white shirt, buttons flying everywhere and a constricted scream interrupted your begging.
Bully!Ran who despite your clearly terrified eyes and shaking hands, didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. On the contrary, he felt euphoric. Your trashing subsided, you couldn’t fight him, you couldn’t get away and nobody was coming to save you. Once you realized that, you became more pliant in his grasp.
Bully!Ran who squeezed your chest to his heart’s content. Pulling one mound out of your frilly white undergarments. He squeezed until you gave a pained whimper, and he wanted more of that. The frenzy he didn’t even notice he had— tenfold.
Bully!Ran who saw things clearer now. Amid the craze, he had an epiphany as his eyes focused on your face and the little inhuman sounds you were making. He didn’t hate those… no… he didn’t hate you at all. He just hated you for not doing all those things to him. Not to your friends, not your teachers and especially not any male in the vicinity. They didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. This… all this he was witnessing belongs to him.
Bully!Ran who with a frustrated growl violently crashed his mouth with yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise.
Bully!Ran who felt his whole body ignite as his tongue commanded yours to comply. Pulling your tongue out, his teeth gripped it harshly. a quiet wail from you and he was instantly bending your neck back and licking. His tongue traveled all the way down to the crease of your chest to your lips, lapping at your mouth and you had no say in whether you like it or not.
Bully!Ran who had you inconsolably crying on the cold floor as he buried his face in your cunt. Your hands desperately tried to get him away but it was all a game to him— you weren’t moving him an inch.
Bully!Ran who kept your legs wrapped around his head, resting on his wide shoulders as he called you a messy needy slut for being so wet for someone you supposedly didn’t care about. Every word from him was a slap to your swollen pussy.
Bully!Ran who pushed his fingers in your cunt, telling you how you sounded like a bitch in heat, calling you a liar and a whore for him. The squelching sound of his fingers violently moving inside you had him feeling sick. So sick that he stirred his long fingers deeper, feeling that spongy spot that had you yelling out his name for the first time as his stomach felt a sudden gut punch and bursting sensation.
Bully!Ran who cursed once he realized he came in his pants. He was fuming. And just as fast, he had you on your back with your shredded panties in your mouth.
Bully!Ran who takes your writhing body in between his arms as your abused hole warmed his cock.
“Stay— fuck… stay fucking still, damn it.”
Oh, Ran was going to burst again at any moment if your warmth kept squeezing him like that. Slow, deep thrust left you out of breath. Ran stretching out your little tight cunt around him, and just like that he kept pounding into your creamy insides.
“Such a good girl, taking what she’s given,” he grunted against your temple, “I’m gonna mess you up so good— fuck… you like that? You want me to ruin you?” His hoarse laugh reverberated through your bodies. “You’re tightening down there. ‘m taking that as a yes.”
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A.N: damnnnnm… the first thing I write for tr after my drought of two years is debauchery. Ta-da? 🤗 ✨ I still feel so out of touch with my words N E WAY! enjoy K bye 💋
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mellowyellow236 · 2 days ago
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IVE JUST BEEN ON A BINGING SPREE OF YOUR WORK AND I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH??? YOUR WRITING IS SO CHEF'S KISS????
Its possible could i request for the first year (platonic ortho if you'd like to write him ^^) x reader with the kingdom dance scene from tangled the ost always has my heart pumping and i think its just a beautiful scene all around AAAA
Ahhhh thank you so much for requesting! Sorry that this took a while and isn’t very long, I haven’t watched Tangled in at least five years at this point so it was hard to remember the context behind the scene, especially since I couldn’t find an actual copy of the movie. But you are completely right, that soundtrack is absolutely wonderful! So much so that it’s now the tavern music I’m using in my Dnd campaign. Anyway, here you are! :D
How Would The TWST First Years Act With The Reader During The Tangled Kingom Dance Scene?
GN!Reader x first years, all are meant to be read as romantic except for Ortho’s, but can be read as platonic, too. No TW’s, just fluff. All parts under the cut.
Edit: added tags since I forgot before
Ace Trapolla -
Ace wasn’t excited to come down to town for the festival, so to speak. They lit the lanterns every year, but... Seeing you so happy for it did melt his heart if only a little. And seeing you get a chance to have your hair done by those little girls in the plaza was the cream on the cake. Once you had it braided with flowers and ribbons, you really did look beautiful.
He went away to grab you guys something to eat. He was only away for a second, but by the time he returned, he was watching you start a dance in the town square, inviting in various townspeople. Soon enough, most of the plaza was there. He didn’t want to join in, but he was being pushed into it before he had a chance to comprehend what was happening.
Dancing around, it was easy to see why so many had joined you. You were a great dancer, and it was fun to get to be with so many people. Even so, the fact that he wasn’t able to dance with you until the song was annoying for him. Up until he got to dance with you, of course. Anyone with a brain could see the stars in his eyes.
Deuce Spade -
Deuce loved the idea of getting a chance to take you to a festival. It would be your first one, and of course, he was very excited. So much so that he got a group of girls from the town to braid your hair. Try as he might, he couldn’t do it himself, although he did get you the ribbons and flowers to put in them.
When he went to go grab another thing of flowers for you, this time just for you to hold, he didn’t think twice when he saw you dancing. He dove right in, joining you and the other townspeople in dance, laughing. By the time he got to dance with you, he only had a single flower left, having given most of them away. Although, when he put that one behind your ear, it was clear he had saved the largest of the bunch for you.
Jack Howl -
Jack was too excited, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to go. Yes, it was exciting to go to a festival, but he’d already been to many of them. However, seeing how happy you were to go, he decided it was his mission to make sure you got the best experience possible.
However, he still had the ears of a wolf, and all of the loud noises and smells soon overwhelmed him. You two had to take coverage in a small library. He urged you to go back to enjoying the festival, he didn’t want you to stay behind for him, but when you didn’t, he did the next best thing and started teaching you about it. You were in a library, after all, and he was able to read and teach now that it was quieter. And in the end, isn’t wanting to spend time with your loved ones what the festival was all about?
Epel Felmeir -
Epel had been hoping you’d go with him to the festival since he heard about it, and so having you express an interest in it was something that made his day. He loved being able to go to all kinds of festivals back home, and he was sure he’d enjoy having you there for one with him, as well.
His favorite part? Getting to hide behind the wall of a bakery, eating cupcakes as Vil walks around outside of it searching for you two. Did you giggle so loudly you were caught? Yes. But was it worth it as he got to see you laughing, icing on your nose as you two ran through the streets, away from the pastry tyrant? It was. It was completely worth it.
Ortho Shroud -
Ortho was so happy when you invited him out! You two were going to be able to spend time together, and he got to have his first adventure into a festival while he was with you. He even got to make some friends with a few kids, and they taught him how to braid your hair!
And then you got to do chalk drawings together! You made a sun, and he made a drawing of him, Idia, and you. You’re a part of his family, too, and he’s so happy to be able to share a happy memory with you.
Sebek Zigvolt -
Sebek wasn’t excited at first. It was just a boring, human festival, nothing that could compare to the wonders of Fae traditions. But then, he saw you dressing up your hair and asking for help with it, and he couldn’t help but soften up to the idea just a little bit. Even humans could have a good festival or two, especially if those braided flowers are only the first part.
Out of all the first years, Sebek is the least excited to dance, yet also the best at it. Being Malleus’s personal guard, he took dance lessons, in order to blend in to any ballroom and guard Malleus even when he couldn’t be by his side. However, it was always just another part of his training, where he couldn’t even fight… Until you. Now, he’s dancing in the town square with you, hand in yours and one on your waist, mentally wondering how he got so lucky to end up here, with a human so wonderful they can make what he thought of as a boring activity into something beautiful and fun.
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buttertheflame · 3 days ago
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I can't speak much to LOTR. But as for Multi-year winters vs. Others: I’ll say the question is definitely both. 
Jon wasn’t supposed to govern. The Wall wasn’t his ruling seat. He was just supposed to be a Lord Commander, not a ruling lord. But he ruled anyway, as your above examples prove. To me, that's the point.
That’s why he succeeded in some places and failed in others (I’d say it was a 40% failure. For example, he worked so hard to provide refuge to the wildlings after the battle that when he was made aware of Hardhome’s situation, and Selyse and Melisandre advised him to “let them die”—did he choose to do so? No, he’d have rather died to save them—just like Dany being willing to walk back to Meereen, into her war zone—and unfortunately risk the Watch too. He didn’t keep his head long enough and didn’t live long enough to build the glass gardens he considered. It always broke my heart that he didn’t share info about the Iron Bank loan with his accountant. After a few re-reads, especially that he frequently cut short hard conversations with people he felt were bigots like Bowen Marsh and Ser Axell Florent, I felt that his actions were rather immature. Poor bb. That’s just me.) On the whole, George’s explorations of the makings of peace, meager and fleeting as it was at the Wall, will always warm my heart. 
Additionally, I say “keep his head” because a funny thing that occurs is readers like myself scrutinizing his actions from a tertiary character’s POV like Bowen—and in fact when you do, Jon Snow looks absolutely mad. As R+L=J the question then becomes, “hm, wonder if that’s what the Targaryen madness looked like up close?” And indeed, considering that he’s got a front row view to the icy threat (as Targ dreamers had front row views to their own demise, success, etc.) it is definitely a devastating and intriguing pattern for these rulers cursed with the burden of great knowledge. 
Jon’s ADWD arc was another beautiful brushstroke of the “love is our great glory and tragedy” theme. But I think that his death will lead to collapse at the Wall (George is so obsessed with it as a narrative tool in asoiaf) because his actions as Lord Commander created the perfect political storm. As for the Others, I expect plenty more shenanigans. But of course, George will continue to bury the lead on that and all the other magical stuff. Which I believe is why the theory that dead!Jon, possibly even resurrected!Jon, won’t have POV chapters is so popular. The first is reasonable, the second won’t do for readers who love the character so dearly.  
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This is actually so funny because….isn’t this literally the point of Jon’s political arc as a ruler in ADWD? 😭 What policies can he enact to ensure that the Watch and the wildlings are fed through the winter? The question even comes up during Alys Karstark’s wedding, because Jon knows that the Watch is down to its last sticks of butter. This is the same arc GRRM uses, along with Dany’s in Meereen, as a reference of how he would like to explore this very question. Btw Jon Snow is arguably Aragorn’s closest parallel in ASOIAF so 😭
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thevoidstaredback · 2 days ago
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Okay.
Okay...
I'm going to take a step back. I recommend everyone take a step back for today. Just, take a step back, sit down for a moment, and breathe.
Worst case scenario just dropped, if you haven't heard. Um, I'm terrified. Not in the joking way that I usually use the word, either. I am honest to God terrified for the next 4 years.
This is gonna be a "Do as I say, not as I do" moment, okay?
Okay.
Get off of social media. Just, stay off of it for today at least. We're all scared, and doom scrolling is only going to scare you more. Take today to process. Take as long as you need to process. You don't have to go as far as to delete anything, but definitely stay away from them.
I'm going to be doing as much research as I can, at the risk of my own state of mind, because my sisters are freaking out. I don't blame them because I'm freaking out, too, but I am a writer at heart and a good writer does her research.
I'll come back with more information tonight, but for right now, this is what I know or what I've heard:
Harris is calling for a recount. Every single vote is going to be recounted. I don't know if that'll do anything, but we can hope.
We still have two years to save this. As long as the orange monster doesn't get a Red House, then he can't feasibly do anything. If we can get as many seats in the House filled with Blue as we can, then we have a chance at saving our country.
Our job for the next four years is to survive. I hate to say it- I hate that I even have to think it, but that's the reality I fear we've fallen into. We've been doing an amazing job so far, we just have to keep doing that.
Now, I want to speak directly to my fellows who are most affected by these results:
I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. You have had to live in fear, and it's only getting worse. This was not the world we were promised by our parents and grandparents. This is not the world we were supposed to create. And for that, I am so sorry.
To everyone that worked their asses off to prevent this:
Thank you.
Okay...
Okay.
Breathe. Okay? Take a step back and breathe. It's going to be okay. It may not seem like it, but it's going to be okay. There are ways to salvage this. Your job is done. Now your job is to breathe
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eiiskonigin · 2 years ago
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@caeloservare: //Is it Missa loving hours? You're a sweetheart. Plus you're a really good writer, on top of being a good friend. It's fun to see your Winter on the dash, even if James would never ever engage in shenanigans (he's trying to be cool in front of her ok) xD Your Raven reminded me how much fun kindergarten style definitely-not-flirting is and how twisted chaos it can be. It was amazing. I like your muses with their sharp tongues and unapologetic approach. And of course I can't wait to meet you ;u; My plans might be changing as they form, but I must get to meet you and hug you!
I actually saw this on my fifteen minute break and had to wait to reply. ;w; but it was a very nice positivity burst in the middle of a very long day. ♥ James has very definitely succeeded in being cool in front of Winter, perhaps to a detrimental extent that now she tries so hard to be cool around him. x'D Raven is just feral I don't have any good excuses for her, but I do love writing her with you and hopefully will write more seriously over there soon !!
You are one of my dearest internet friends and I love you bunches and even if our meeting gets pushed back, it's going to happen one day and then I will hug you so frickin' tight you better be ready.
1-800-how’s my portrayal?
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eiiskonigin-a · 2 years ago
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@unlockthestars​ asked: first impression: Omg, they're such a cool person. I hope they like me. I'm super shy, but I really want to write with them. Maybe if I send them an ask about one of their headcanons, they'll see that I've been paying attention to their posts and be interested? We both play pretty rare characters; it would be great to have them interact! Omg, wait, MORE characters I love? Sign me the fuck up!
current impression: [insert Will Smith meme here] LOOK AT MY WIFE. DO YOU SEE HOW AMAZING SHE IS? EVERYONE SHOULD REALIZE THAT SHE'S AWESOME.
Because YOU ARE. You're amazing. The amount of thought and care you put into all of your characters, no matter how much or how little the source material gives you to work with is fantastic. You can have characters that have as little as one episode, and suddenly they have a fully fleshed out background, including family tree, likes, dislikes, and all sorts of things. I mean...., I could go on for hours about all of the amazing things you do, okay? You're kind of my favourite.
what was your first impression of me VS your current impression of me // accepting !!
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husband please ;; I scream. I cry.
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tendoujo · 3 months ago
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━━━ ` ° . tag dump 2. general 💙
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hueseok · 2 months ago
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it was always you.
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for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.
so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.
or at least, that’s what you think.
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 13.2k
rating: 18+
content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts
warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)
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MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken
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opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗
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“Any questions?”
A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”
You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.
You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”
More than half of the class raises their hands.
“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”
A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.
“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”
“I love you, Ms. ____!”
“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.
“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”
The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.
There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.
Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.
“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.
“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”
He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”
You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.
“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”
“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”
“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”
“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”
“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”
“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”
He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”
“You didn’t?”
He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.
“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.
Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.
It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.
It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.
At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.
“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”
“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”
“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”
Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.
“He meant well, ____.”
You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.
“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.
He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”
You wince.
“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”
“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”
“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”
“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”
“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”
“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”
“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.
“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.
“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.
He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”
“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”
“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”
“An apology?”
“For being the last person to know about your condition.”
“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”
“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”
Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.
“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”
“I can make space for you.”
Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?
You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”
“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”
“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”
“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.
“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”
“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”
Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.
“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.
“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”
“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Fine.” You deadpan.
This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”
“Okay.”
****
When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.
He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.
And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 
He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.
Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.
“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.
Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“You’ll do it then?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”
“Even as crazy as marrying her?”
“Sure.”
Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”
“I don’t like her.” 
“You’re in love with her.”
“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”
Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”
“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”
“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”
“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”
“That can work.”
“What?” Jungkook laughed.
Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”
He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”
“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”
“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.
Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.
“Noted.”
****
It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.
You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 
“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.
You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.
“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.
Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”
He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.
“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”
The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”
“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”
“Precisely.”
“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”
“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”
 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”
“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”
“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”
“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.
He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”
“Hell no.”
“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.
“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”
He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”
“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”
The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.
You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.
When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.
After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.
He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 
“That’s no need, Kook.”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”
So, you allow him.
It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.
“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”
“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”
Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”
“Agreed.”
You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”
Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.
“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.
“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”
“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“That’s not convincing at all.”
“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”
You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.
You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”
There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”
“I can’t promise that either.”
“You have to.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”
“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”
“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”
“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”
“You should be.” You grumble.
Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.
“What?” You hiss.
He swallows hard.
“I want you to marry me, ____.”
You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.
****
Jungkook was your first kiss.
It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 
He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”
You blushed.
Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.
5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.
“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”
You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”
Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.
It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”
You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”
“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.
He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.
“Okay,” you told him.
“Huh?”
“You can kiss me.”
“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”
You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”
“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”
“It is?” Hope sparked within you.
“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”
You cackled. “Deal.”
56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 
****
You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.
“What’s up?”
“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.
A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”
The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.
“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”
“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”
“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”
“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t!”
“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”
You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”
“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”
“It’s a sham marriage!”
“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”
“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”
Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”
“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”
“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”
“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”
Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”
“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”
“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”
“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”
There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.
“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.
“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”
“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”
“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.
You hang up and glance at the door.
You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.
He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.
As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 
Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.
Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack
You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.
You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw
Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first
You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you
Jungkook: oof that’s harsh
You: sorry not sorry?
He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.
However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.
Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind
You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.
You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey
Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣
****
It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.
He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.
Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.
“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.
“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.
You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”
“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”
“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”
“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding.
You two continue walking forward.
This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.
“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.
You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”
“Busy day?”
“Yep.”
“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”
He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”
“Why not?”
“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”
“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”
“The assurance you’re taken care of.”
“That’s cheesy.”
You share a laugh and he grins.
“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”
He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.
Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.
“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”
You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.
“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.
“Glucometer.”
He halts. “What does that look like?”
“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.
He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.
“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.
You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.
“Let me do it,” he says.
You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.
Another sigh. “Better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”
“____—”
“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”
Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”
“Thank you.”
He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”
Before you can protest, he closes the door.
****
Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.
In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.
“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.
“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”
“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”
“It’s not.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.
Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?
“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.
“Four months, I think.”
“Four months? And you already brought him home?”
You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”
“You must really like him then.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”
“Does he treat you well?”
You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”
“What’s with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”
Fuck, thank God, he thought.
“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.
“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”
“But I’m not your brother.”
“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”
“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”
“Oh, so you don’t?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Instead you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You kinda did.”
He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.
He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.
“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.
“He might not like it. You’ll see.”
That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.
You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.
****
“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.
Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.
“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.
“Jungkook—”
“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.
You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”
“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not willing to see you die.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”
“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”
“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”
“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”
“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”
“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”
“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”
“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”
“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”
His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”
“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”
Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”
“That won’t make me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.
Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.
Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.
You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”
He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”
“For one, I grew up.”
“Ouch.”
You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”
That piques his interest. “Anything.”
“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”
You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.
“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.
It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.
You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”
His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!
He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.
“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”
That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.
“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.
“What?”
“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”
Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.
“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.
“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”
“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”
And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.
It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.
However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.
“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.
You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.
“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.
It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.
“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.
You grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”
You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.
“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”
You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.
He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”
“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.
He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”
You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.
It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.
Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.
“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.
You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.
“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.
You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”
A boyish grin erupts on his features.
Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.
“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.
You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”
“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”
****
“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.
“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”
“I don’t care.”
You laugh. 
He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.
Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.
“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”
You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.
“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.
“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”
“Of course.” You kiss him too.
His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.
“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.
The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.
Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.
Jungkook unwillingly places you down.
“I think I need to go,” you say.
He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 
He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.
“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.
“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”
“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”
“You,” he answers without missing a beat.
You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”
“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”
You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”
Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.
You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.
“What?” you ask.
“Please never do that in front of me again.”
His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”
“Want what?”
“Me and Jungkook to be together.”
“When on earth did I say that?”
“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”
A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”
“We’re not—”
“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”
“Wait, so the two of you have?”
Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”
He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”
You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.
You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”
You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.
A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”
You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”
When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”
You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.
You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.
“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.
You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.
Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.
You: look how cute we look 🥹
You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.
If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.
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gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡
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littlelamy · 29 days ago
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a/n: the beginning is loosely based of S4 with rafe and sofia! I’m kinda obsessed with rafe being needy behind close doors 🥵I hope you guys enjoy!
you couldn’t stop replaying his words over and over again in your head. each syllable hit harder, cutting deeper than the last. always running her mouth? what. just a hookup, id never date a pogue.
you stood there, behind the slightly ajar door, heart pounding so loudly you were sure it could be heard. but rafe didn’t notice—he was too busy tearing you down with topper, speaking like you were nothing more than a nuisance in his life. he’d never know how those words would haunt you, how the trust you had in him shattered like glass.
your eyes burned with unshed tears, the sharp sting of betrayal settling into the pit of your stomach. but there was something else bubbling just beneath the surface—rage. not the hot, fiery kind that comes and goes. no, this was colder, more calculated. the type that stews, planning its revenge.
your fingers itched to grab your things and leave, but not without making sure he understood who held the power in this relationship. you weren’t going to walk away defeated, not when you could leave him begging for mercy.
so, instead of running, you turned, heart hardening with each step as you walked back into the room, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled out a suitcase from under the bed.
if he thought he could treat you like this, he was about to learn how wrong he was. you weren’t some weak girl who would let this slide. no, rafe was about to see a side of you he never had before.
the door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, you could hear his confused muttering. "yo, topper, i’ll catch you later."
rafe’s voice rang through the hallway, much closer now, but still carrying the same arrogant tone. you ignored him, hands moving swiftly as you tossed your clothes into the bag, each item thrown more aggressively than the last.
when rafe finally stepped into the room, his eyes immediately fell on you, and panic flickered in his expression. "what the hell are you doing?"
his voice wavered as he took in the scene—your half-packed bag, the angry flush on your cheeks, the tight set of your jaw.
"what does it look like?" you shot back, barely sparing him a glance as you continued packing.
he hesitated, taking a step closer to you, but the sight of your seething rage stopped him in his tracks. "hey, let’s just—let’s talk about this, okay?"
you laughed bitterly, slamming the suitcase shut before finally turning to face him. "oh, now you want to talk?" you snapped, the sharp edge in your voice slicing through the air between you. "funny, because earlier, it seemed like you had plenty to say."
his face paled as realization dawned on him. you watched as his lips parted, searching for words but finding none. for the first time in a long time, rafe cameron was speechless, guilt flooding his features.
"i didn’t—" he started, but you cut him off.
"save it," you hissed, stepping closer to him now, your eyes blazing. "i heard everything, rafe. every. single. word."
rafe’s breath hitched as the full weight of your words crashed down on him. his eyes widened in panic, and he took another shaky step toward you, reaching out as if to touch you, to ground himself in this spiraling nightmare. "i didn’t mean it, baby. i swear, i wasn’t thinking—i was just venting—"
"venting?" you scoffed, stepping back from his touch. "do i look like someone you just 'vent' about, rafe? am i just some girl you get to shit on when i’m not around?" your voice cracked slightly, the hurt bubbling beneath your fury slipping through the cracks.
rafe’s hands trembled as he dropped them to his sides, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he shook his head. "no, no—please, you know i didn’t mean any of that. i was just—" his voice broke, and you watched as his composure started to crumble, tears pooling in his eyes. "i was just talking, okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it. you have to believe me."
but you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. your eyes darkened as you stepped even closer to him, your voice dropping to a dangerously low whisper. "if you’re really sorry, rafe, you’re going to have to prove it."
a flicker of hope sparked in his eyes, and he nodded eagerly, desperate to fix what he’d broken. "anything," he breathed, his voice shaky. "i’ll do anything."
you stared him down, watching as he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with nervous anticipation. there was no trace of the cocky, confident rafe now. instead, he was a trembling mess, willing to do whatever it took to keep you from walking out that door.
you grabbed your phone from the dresser, starting the recording and letting the soft beep fill the silence. rafe’s eyes widened as he watched you, confusion and curiosity mixing with the fear in his gaze.
"get on your knees," you ordered, your voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.
rafe blinked, momentarily stunned by the command, but the second your eyes met his, cold and unwavering, he obeyed. he dropped to his knees before you, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. the vulnerability radiating off him was palpable, his breath shaky as he knelt before you, completely at your mercy.
"you don’t get to speak," you warned, holding the phone steady as you circled him slowly, capturing his wide eyes, his trembling hands. "you only get to listen and do what i say."
he nodded quickly, his throat tight with emotion as he blinked away the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.
you positioned yourself on the bed, spreading your legs slightly, and gestured for him to come closer. "you know what to do," you said, your tone soft but commanding.
without a moment’s hesitation, rafe shuffled forward on his knees, his eyes glued to your thighs as he leaned in, his lips pressing soft, tentative kisses along your skin. his breath was hot and shaky, the desperation in every touch making your pulse quicken.
"good boy," you murmured, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, guiding his mouth exactly where you wanted it. "now, show me how sorry you are."
rafe wasted no time, his tongue flicking against you with a desperation that sent shivers down your spine. his hands gripped your thighs, holding on for dear life as he worked to prove himself, his movements frantic, eager to please.
your head tipped back slightly as a soft sigh escaped your lips, but you quickly regained control, focusing on the phone’s camera in your hand. you adjusted the angle, making sure you captured every second of rafe’s unraveling—his lips swollen and red from the effort, his face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead.
"look at you," you cooed softly, your free hand caressing his cheek. "you’re such a mess for me, aren’t you?"
rafe whimpered in response, the vibrations from his soft sobs sending waves of pleasure through you. his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his face harder against you, the tears finally spilling over and streaming down his cheeks.
you could feel the shift in him—the way his body trembled beneath your touch, the way his breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. he was breaking, right in front of you, and the sight sent a surge of power through your veins.
"don’t stop," you whispered, your fingers tugging on his hair as his pace quickened, his tongue working furiously. "not until i say so."
rafe let out a choked sob, his tears soaking into your skin as he continued, his movements growing sloppier, more desperate. you glanced down at him, the sight of his tear-streaked face and swollen lips sending a rush of heat through you.
"you’re mine," you whispered, your voice dripping with possession as you tilted his face up slightly, capturing the tear that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. "and you’ll never forget it."
rafe’s body shuddered at your words, a strangled moan escaping his lips as he clung to you, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. another tear slipped down his face, and you leaned down, your lips brushing against his cheek, kissing the tear away.
you recorded it all, making sure you caught the exact moment rafe broke for you, his body trembling beneath your touch as he whimpered your name.
"please," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "i’m yours. i’ll never leave you. i love you. please…don’t leave me."
his words were slurred, thick with emotion, and you smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.
"good boy," you whispered, pressing one last kiss to his temple as his body finally collapsed against you, completely spent and vulnerable.
slowly, you stopped recording. rafe barely noticed, his head resting against your thigh, still trying to steady his breathing. his tear-streaked face was a picture of surrender.
you stood up, gently pushing him off you, and his body slumped against the mattress, too weak to even protest. you didn’t say a word as you picked up your phone, your fingers tapping with practiced precision.
rafe watched through bleary eyes, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths, the reality of the situation not quite sinking in yet.
the video—the raw, intimate recording of rafe at his most vulnerable—was right there, in your hand. the smirk playing at your lips deepened as you attached it to a group chat, the names of topper, kelce, and several other friends flashing across the screen. rafe’s inner circle, the same ones he was so eager to talk big around. they’d all see this.
and then, for the final touch. your fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a moment before typing: looks like the pogue got your boy.
the message was delivered, the little ‘sent’ confirmation making your heart race with satisfaction. the power was now entirely in your hands, and you relished the silence that followed, the calm before the inevitable storm.
rafe blinked, finally realizing what had happened as he noticed the shift in your demeanor. “w-what did you do?” his voice was small, trembling with fear as his eyes darted from your phone to your face, dread sinking in fast.
you leaned down, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with surprising gentleness, and a sweet peck on his lips. “just reminding you who really holds the power here, rafe,” you whispered softly, your voice laced with a wicked edge. “you thought you could talk shit about me behind my back? guess again.”
rafe’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, his body weak and uncoordinated. “no, no, no—what did you send? please, baby, please!” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.
you straightened up, staring down at him, your smile never faltering. “i sent a little reminder to all your friends. they’ll see it soon enough.”
he scrambled to reach for his phone, but it was too late. his friends were already watching the video, seeing him like they’d never seen him before—broken, crying, at your feet, worshiping you. and with that message—looks like the pogue got your boy—they’d know he wasn’t the powerful rafe cameron anymore. not with you around.
rafe’s breath hitched, panic surging through his veins as his phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table. “no,” he whimpered, tears spilling over again, pure terror flashing in his eyes as he looked up at you, utterly helpless, still with a needy gaze.
you bent down one last time, tilting his chin up so he could meet your gaze, your thumb gently brushing against his swollen lips. “next time you even think about talking behind my back,” you whispered, “remember this moment. because there’s more where that came from.”
with that, you walked away, leaving rafe alone in the room, his phone lighting up with messages from his friends, the weight of his humiliation crushing him.
you didn’t even glance back as the door clicked shut behind you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
you owned him now. completely.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0
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starstruckmiraclekitty · 3 months ago
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Simon was seething. Never had he been so viscerally angry, his temper dangerously towing the tight rope that was his self control. You’d almost been killed. You’d been shot, and you were damn lucky that it hadn’t been fatal.
He found you on the roof later that night, no longer hiding the pain the bullet wound in your side had caused once you thought you were alone. It took all of two seconds of him seeing you hurting like that for him to snap.
“The fuck were you thinking out there, Y/N?!” His voice echoed in the night air, causing you to flinch slightly. “Do please tell me you’ve got a reasonable explanation for what happened.”
“Simon, please just calm down for a minute.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and it only fueled his anger more.
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Simon bellowed, his self control rapidly slipping out of his grasp. “You almost fuckin’ died, Y/N!”
Simon hated the way you flinched, hated the way you backed up ever so slightly away from him, but he couldn’t control himself. He had almost lost you.
“I know that, Simon. I know. But I don’t regret what went down.” You forced your voice steady, your eyes not leaving his as you attempted to stand your ground. “I-.”
“You don’t regret almost getting shot? Y/N, you’re not on this team to make reckless decisions. If I knew you’d be making choices like that, I’d have had Price kick you off the team months ago! Almost dying, for what? For what?!” Simon moved closer to you, the red in his vision nearly blinding, and this time you didn’t back away.
“For you, asshole!” You screamed, your hands reaching for Simon’s chest, pushing him as hard as you possibly could. Simon barely moved an inch before you screamed again. “For you! If I hadn’t taken that bullet, you would’ve died!”
Simon’s world stopped in that moment, the red vanishing from his vision, his heart coming to a slow halt in his chest as he absorbed your words. For him?
“He was aiming at you, Simon. If I hadn’t stepped in the way, we would’ve lost you. And I.” You trailed off, unable to look at the hulking man in front of you. “I don’t know, I didn’t hesitate, it was as if it was just instinct for me.”
Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the soft thud thud thud the only thing keeping him grounded. You’d saved him. You’d risked your life to save him.
You, the sweet soldier who always put others first. You, the one who’d always patched him up late at night, laughing at his shitty jokes. You, the one who understood him like nobody else. You, the one person in this godforsaken world that got him to lower the never ending walls within him. You, the one he’d unknowingly loved for years. Saved him.
“I know it was stupid, and if you want to kick me off of the team for it, fine. But I’d do it again.” You threw your hands up in the air, and Simon didn’t miss the way you winced from the pain in your side. “I don’t regret it.”
Simon only stared at you, his eyes betraying none of the inner turmoil that he was currently experiencing.
“I couldn’t lose you, Simon.” Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, your eyes falling on the lower half of his mask. “Not now, not ever. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that bullet hit you.”
Simon’s eyes found yours as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, incapable of moving. For the first time in his life, he truly didn’t know what to say.
He watched as you chewed your bottom lip, your eyes leaving his yet again as you looked down at your feet. God he wishes he could say something, anything, but as always words failed him around you.
“I’ve got to go report in to Price.” You said, slowly turning away from him to face the door. “I won’t apologize for what I did, but I’m sorry for causing you to doubt my ability to support the team. Have a good night, lieutenant.”
Watching you turn away from him had finally stirred something within him, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He had to make this right.
“Y/N.” Simon found his voice as you reached the roof’s door, causing you to turn to face him. “Wait.”
Your heart practically stopped beating upon finding Simon’s mask discarded, his face now fully bare for you to see. You weren’t sure what you had expected, once you’d finally seen him, but it certainly wasn’t this.
He was simply beautiful. Every scar, every small freckle, dimple, wrinkle had formed his face impeccably well, and you couldn’t help but stare at him as your mind ran completely blank.
You’d fallen for the masked man long ago, his dry humor, loyalty and bravery were something that’d you’d found yourself drawn to. You’d meant what you said to him about not regretting taking a bullet for him. You loved him. And truthfully couldn’t fathom a life without him.
“Now you see me.” Simon breathed, his eyes softening as he watched you take in every inch of his face. He should’ve felt vulnerable, shy even. But he didn’t. Not with you. He wanted you to see him, every imperfect inch of him.
He bared himself to you, let his face and eyes tell you everything he didn’t know how to express with words.
“I’ve always seen you, Simon Riley.” You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand softly cupped his cheek. “Always.”
And that was all it took for Simon to know he loved you.
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coqvttes · 1 year ago
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୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝KNOCKED UP❞ ― KENTO N.
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― ꒰ BREEDING ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―
୨୧˚ synopsis: after getting turned on from seeing you being domestic in the kitchen, your doting husband is definitely not stopping until he's sure you're pregnant !
୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, breeding, p in v, petnames, praise, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!kento, fingering, tummy bulge, creampie, teasing, lmk if i forgot anything!
୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k (sorry it’s not proofread)
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your doting husband, kento just couldn't help himself when he saw you fussing around in his little kitchen. the enchanting smell of fresh pancakes had stirred him from his sleep in the bedroom, and he wondered what you were up to when he noticed that his wife's spot on the bed was empty. appearing in the doorway of the kitchen in his briefs, he freezes as he sees you prancing around in the kitchen. taking in the sight of you. 
there you are, sporting the linen workshirt he wore yesterday, styled with your cute little apron over it. clearly, you aren't wearing anything underneath the shirt, save for your cute lacy panties that he just loves so much.
he ponders if he should just take you right there. bend you over the worktop push those panties of yours to the side and make love to you like last night. you just look so gorgeous and domestic like this, waking up early just to change into HIS clothes to cook him HIS breakfast in HIS kitchen. how can he resist the temptation? god, sometimes he thinks you do it on purpose just to rile him up. and it works. 
"good morning, kento," the sound of your sweet voice forced him out of his perverted thoughts and his eyes met with your gentle ones. you were holding a delicate plate of freshly made pancakes, just for him with that sweet smile on your face. warmth filled his heart as he looked at you with adoration and lust. 
"g'morning, darling," he says in that sexy morning voice of his. your mouth almost waters at the sight of him. hair tousled, shirtless and a tired smirk on his handsome face. he notices the way you stare at him and he doesn't know how it happened but he's approaching you, pulling you in by the waist for a sweet kiss, sealed with passion and devotion. 
"you look too good in that shirt and cute little apron of yours," he groans, hands slipping down your hips to grab onto your arse. you squeal as he unexpectedly lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your palms flat against his chest. 
"w-what about breakfast?" he chuckles at your concern and grins. 
"who needs breakfast when i have you, hm?" he chuckles, carrying you back into the bedroom, you giggle as he plops you down on the bed, climbing over you. his fingers play with the strands of your hair before he speaks.
"god, you're so perfect in my shirt. so pretty for me, hm? all mine, aren't you?" his fingers slide under the shirt as he kisses you, caressing you tenderly before moving up further to grope your tits. he smiles into your lips as he feels how hard your nipples are for him, pinching and tugging at them gently, eliciting a choked whine from your throat.
"all yours, kento," your voice is breathy, so desperate for his touch. he skillfully unbuttons the shirt and peels it off of you, letting the cool air blow over your now bare torso. your fingers tangle in his blonde locks as he envelops your nipple in his warm mouth. you mewl softly from the stimulation whilst he gazes at you through his eyelashes, you look so heavenly like this. 
releasing your wet nipple he moves lower down your body. as he spreads your legs, exposing the wet stain on your panties, he chuckles. he ducks down and presses his lips against your clothed cunt. his pointer finger slips under the lace, pulling it down your legs, revealing your needy cunt.
"fuck, darling, let me put a baby into you, hm? make you mine forever? would you like that?" he asks, his slender fingers, slipping into your hole slowly. you nod profusely, choking on your words as he stuffs you full with his digits. sliding them in and out of you slowly, he curls his fingers to tease that sweet spot inside of you that makes your walls clench around him.
"use your words, sweetheart." 
"yes, yes! wan' your babies, kento. wan' it so bad. wan' to be yours forever-!" you babble mindlessly, completely unaware of how much your words are affecting him right now. the thought of having kids with you and how much you want it too, makes his dick so hard. his heart is beating fast as the phrases truly sink into his mind.
with that, he withdraws his now slick-covered fingers, before lowering his head down, capturing your plump lips with his. your hand moves down between your bodies to palm his bulge through his briefs. he pulls away from your lips and groans with how painfully hard he is and he tugs his briefs off, dropping them onto the floor carelessly. 
your eyes are fixated on his cock that yearns to be inside of your warmth. he pumps his length a few times, drops of precumming spilling out of his sensitive tip as he slowly lines himself up with your drooling entrance. you mewl out lewdly as he pushes himself in, filling you up completely and your palms fly up to his shoulders for purchase. 
your thankful he prepped you a little bit earlier otherwise you're not so sure if you could take him in one go like this. after a few heartbeats, he rolls his hips slightly, his pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit and you moan softly. 
he picks up the tempo, his thrusts now faster and harder as the room echoes with the sounds of your pleasure and the bed creaking. his strong arms move your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders, making the position more intimate but most importantly, making it easier for him to go deeper.
his eyes are fixed on the way your cunt keeps sucking him in, the way you can see his bulge in your tummy and the way you look at him with those adoring doe eyes. he dips his head down to seize your lips in a kiss.
the kiss was gentle and innocent compared to the sinful actions being committed with each of his powerful thrusts. with every single drag of your tight cunt against his dick, constantly clenching around him deliberately which forced out a long string of groans as he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
"k-kento!" 
he dotes on the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name in a choked whisper, your nails clawing down his back. your cunt pulsing around his cock. your juices spilling from your hole as he thrusts into you like there's no tomorrow.
“that feel good, darling?” the rumble of his voice against your ear makes you shiver slightly. 
"can't wait to see your tummy swollen with my babies in you, you'll look so gorgeous."
“mmm—!” moans and whines bubble up in your throat as a response to his teasing words. the thought of having his children makes your mind go fuzzy and your heart swell. you want it more than anything. 
“i love you, sweetheart,” he coos, pulling away from your neck to look into your eyes. his husky voice, how close his lips are, the lust evident in his gaze, it all makes your mind go fuzzy. 
"i love you, kento! love you s'much!" you cry as you cream around his cock, cunt tensing around him which pushes him over the edge too. he lets out a broken moan as his warmth fills you up. he stays inside of you for a few moments, not wanting his cum to go to waste. 
"mmm, can't wait for you to get pregnant, sweetheart," he confesses, pulling you into his arms as he lays down on the mattress.
“i think the pancakes are cold,” you pout, turning your head to look up at him through your lashes and he chuckles down at you.
"that's alright, darling... i've already had my meal, haven't i?"
oh yes, he has...
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!
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elizzsush · 5 months ago
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Fae Courting Rituals | TWST
Diasomnia Dorm X Reader
Lilia X Reader, Sebek X Reader, Malleus X Reader, Silver X Reader
---- Fae are typically taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 3/3)
Note: Was going To add silver to this list. (I know he isn't a fae, but he was raised by one) but was too tired to write for him)
Savanaclaw Ver. | Octavinelle Ver
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Sebek:
He starts following you around for some reason.
Seriously, one day he just woke up and decided to not leave you alone. It helped that you guys shared a bundle of classes together.
You had no clue how you befriended the green hair boy. You weren't complaining though, in this school, where everyone is so set in their ways, you liked having the extra layer of protection that was the loud half fae: Sebek.
He was loud and denies it however, whenever you point out he follows you. He claims to not having even realized he was doing such a thing. "I would never follow around a mere human!" He shouted out his claims with a red face.
It could be true. He did get somewhat spacy sometimes if you'd believe it.
He had a packed schedule, or so he claimed, yet he always found time to be around you. It made a warm feeling blossom in your chest, well, of course before he used this time to rant about Malleus. "Wakasama is the most kind and fit ruler of-" He'd ramble, you'd sigh; put your face in your hand and lean a bit closer to him. You enjoyed hearing him so passionate, even if it was... constant.
He didn't have an off switch, that didn't have to be a bad thing.
Plush, you didn't hate his voice. Not that you'd be as loud about your likes as he was for his.
Though you were pretty positive your friends... and most of the students at NRC were in fact sick of his voice. People have also noticed he is more vocal around you.
Which is… a good thing?
The oddest thing happened once. At one point when the two of you were relaxing in ramshackle. A bag of popcorn and a shitty TV you got on sale at Sam's shop. He wasn't being loud for once in his life, instead his attention was focused on the screen.
You two were sitting pretty close together when, he had grabbed your hand and laid his head on yours. Was he... cuddling you?
You couldn't help but smile and continue to watch the movie. You didn't want to comment on it, you knew if you did, he'd probably get up, make a huge deal out of it (with a red face), and leave.
He started rubbing his forehead against yours before he finally pulled away like it never happened. It was oddly affectionate.
You didn't even think he knew that he was doing it.
He began to do these affectionate things while he was focused on something else. Either it be a show at the movie nights you organized with him, or if he was studying a bit to hard with you.
Your friends wondered how you even managed a movie night with the loud boy but you just shrugged.
Eventually, you had to face it: You really like Sebek.
You really liked this brash boy with a thick skull.
You knew however, even if he did like you back. He'd never admit it, let alone go out with you.
It left you with this odd feeling. A dull pain that ranged from a small ache to feeling like Throns were wrapping around your heart, piercing the organ in your chest.
You tried not to let that get you too down. Instead, you watched him across the lunchroom as subconsciously he blew bubbles into his drink, his green eyes finding yours...
So yes, you'd listen to his rants. You'd go out of your way to hang out with him, you'd enjoy his company while you could.
Because you knew, sooner or later, he'd realize it too. The same reality you had to face. And...
well...
He wouldn't face it.
He'd probably turn you away and never speak to you again. And you'd be fine with that. Even if you didn't want to be because you...
Well, let's save that for another day.. "Hey Sebek, lets hang out!"
"I suppose I can make time for you, Human!"
Lilia:
He was out to get you.
You noticed it. Almost everybody noticed it. You just didn't know what you did to him! He'd pop up everywhere and scare you! Right before disappearing away.
This counted as bullying, right?
You were starting to get... slightly paranoid.
You enjoyed Lilia's company, you really did. But you were tired of constantly looking over your shoulder. So, you started to avoid him, just a bit.
Your own personal revenge for the paranoia.
Now, Lilia has lived a long life. He knows what he's doing and is just having fun. He liked you, he did, but he probably isn't going to be that serious about this. He's in it for the vibes.
So when he see's you avoiding him... he well... He serenades you from outside ramshackle.
He makes his intentions very clear with a love song!
A boombox in Sebek's hand, and a tired Silver who followed along because... well Lilia was making Sebek hold a bomb box and traveling in your direction.
Lilia song his heart out for you. "Everybody loves somebody sometime!~ And although my dream was-"
"It is 2am!! The perfect will go out with you tomorrow!" Grim shouted out the window with a grogy done with it tone. After you threw a pillow at them.
NOTE: Sorry this one is short but I have a hard time writing for Lilia
Malleus:
What do you mean? You started courting him first. Very brave of you indeed child of man. He had even commented on it while you handed a piece of treasure!
That was... well, it was a cheap polished rock. It was well... shiny...?
It started very small. He accepted your gift and was expecting a bit more to be honest. Not even he was exactly sure how this courting would work out; he was prepared to be the one to pursue you!
Initially, he sat back and relaxed. Enjoyed the small sense of harmony you two already had and assumed you guys were dating.
Why would he not? He accepted your courting gift, he assumed their were more to come, the next step up to this would be marriage and he wasn’t sure you were ready for that.
However, you noticed this. You were so confused. He’d began to call you “beloved.” Which was a 180.
When did you two…? Huh??
He’s also been more clingy. Not on the sense he’d follow you around but in the sense of a mountain of handwritten letters and the actual sense that he’s in your personal space when you two do hang out.
So… the two of you are just dating now? “Beloved, you haven’t been responding to my letters. Did I do something?”
“Oh, sorry I just haven’t… quite finished all of them.” You glanced at a room that was empty at one time. Now it held a pile of letters.
This was an exaggeration, they’re were a lot but not a whole room full… yet.
Extra??? Silver:
It started like most seedlings of love, with a dream. A simple one, you were sat beside him, the two of you quiet and happy in each others company. The birds sang as you hummed beside him. The boy was content, more so then he had been in his life.
Then, like it was second nature to both of you. You two shared a kiss, and then he woke up.
Usually, he tried not to lose himself to sleep. But tonight all he wanted was to go back to the dream world and hold you. As soon as the realization crossed his mind however, he woke up even more. Had he ever been this awake? “Am I in love…?”
He, not knowing what to do. Went to Lilia, whom was enthusiastic with this news.
You know when parents find out their four year old has a crush? That’s Lilia, except Silver isn’t four. Every time they see you Lilia shoos Silver off too hang out with you. Sadly, with no prior love life to speak of, silver goes along with it.
Though he is embarrassed about it, he hides it well enough.
“Does Lilia think you like me?” You asked all to happily once, hiding your own happiness behind a giggle at the absurd situation he found himself in.
“Uh, yeah…” he’d just smile at you, his head laying on the lunch table as he was about to go to sleep. he loved to see you laugh even if it was somewhat at his expense. However, Sleep tends to escape him when he was near you. Not that he didn’t feel tired, but he didn’t feel as tired. He couldn’t feel angry about it, in fact he was happy about this. It was like you were some temporary cures for his illness.
Lilia would also insist that Silver gift you things. To show he can provide for you, the Silver hair male couldn’t disagree. So, he’d find things that might fancy you.
His bird and squirrel friends also helped him in his venture to gain your affection. Often leaving flowers at your doorstep and small shiny things.
One day you saw the birds and Squirrels run up to your doorstep, one flower at a time, make a gorgeous bouquet.
You made sure to thank him and his animal friends after that.
In return you'd try and make things for him, find things around he or the animals would like. Nuts for squirrels, seeds for the birds, and a deep red rose you plucked from Heartslabyul during the end of an unbirthday party.
He stayed awake for longer than he ever had that night, staring up at the rose in the dark while his dormmate slept. A smile on his lips as he examined every detail of it.
Ace would call it cheesy. The relationship between the two of you was something out of a romance movie he'd say in a more teasing way. Something like, "Is it Tuesday or Wednesday he's going to chase after you to an airport?" and then roll his eyes. You tell Ace to shut up while looking away with a face as red as riddle's hair.
It was after a test, you pulled your test paper out of your bag ready to check your score after preparing for disappointment when a blue bird swopped down and took it!
You cursed and chased after the bird, rushing past students and looking crazy, eventually you ended up in the forest next to the school.
You were sure you looked ever crazier than you had been running in the school halls, because now you had leaves in your hair, and your shoes were all muddy now...
Eventually, the birds placed the test paper, face down on a certain boy's chest. "Silver... Are you asleep?" You smiled and knelt beside him, a small smile on your face. Rolling your eyes at the perpetually sleeping boy. You sat beside him for a moment taking a deep breath before you grabbed your test.
You almost preferred it this way, to have him here, even if he wasn't fully here. It helped your nerves somewhat. An even bigger smile graced your face as you turned the paper, and a large B was printed at the top.
Standing up, you gifted your friend a small kiss on his forehead and wandered off back to school.
Well, you were stopped by a small, sleepy voice. "Y/N...?"
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Note: It was this or clean my depression room... Anyway, I want to expand on Sebek's small scenario because I know if it was its own imagine I could make it really good.
Would ya'll enjoy that...?
ANYWAY, these small series is competed! (Unless...?) Thank you for reading them and thanks for reading the note. Not a lot of people do that. Myself included.
I have a hard time writing for Diasomnia...
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hoshigray · 6 months ago
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hello, lovely! is it okay to request a short fic wherein gojo’s pregnant wife (y/n) stole his kikufuku? thank u! (missing soft gojo hours 😭)
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stoooop this is so cute and sweet, what!?
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x pregnant afab/fem! reader - tooth-rotting fluff - pet names (angel, baby, stars and moon, sweetheart) - Gojo being a big crybaby over sweets - so soft, i was smiling while writing, hehe~.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k
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THUD!
“…!” You jolt, immediately looking to the entrance of the living room to see your husband. “Gojo! You okay?”
The white-haired man stands still with a gawked expression, eyes covered by his black blindfold with his usual Jujutsu Tech attire, and you can assume the noise came from the souvenir bags he dropped to the floor.
“…Y/n, my angelic stars and moon,” he finally speaks after a few seconds of silence, and you can see his lips quiver with trembling hands. “Is…Is that my last kikufuku?” 
If there is one thing Gojo loved more than anything other than you, it would be his undying love for sweets! You could never find him without any at his disposal; he’d have a bunch of lollipops in his pockets, be licking popsicles or soft serves while monitoring his first years during their missions, or typically stop by a café and grab some crepes for dessert to take home and share with you. He’s known to have a childish heart, and sweets are his weakness!
His all-time favorite would be the mochi delicacy he often gets during his mission trips to Sendai, and he’s always sure to buy a whole box worth to make the long trip up North worth it. Kikufuku, the crushed edamame and cream-filled mochi, is Gojo’s favorite sweet to eat — you’re a witness to him happily stuffing his face with them lying on the couch after a hard day’s work. He’s the type to eat one every week until he can return to Sendai and get more. 
This week was the very last one he had saved, secured in the cold fridge for him to eat once he got home. And he wasn’t going to Sendai anytime soon, so he planned on treasuring and savoring it the moment he stepped inside and lay beside his pregnant partner to chill on this blissful spring evening.
He could never get over the sight of you whenever he came home. Gojo loved his partner so much that he swears he would burn the world if you commanded him to, which you knew is an exaggeration, but his love is true. The day he got on one knee and heard you say yes to his proposal was the happiest he’d ever been, sweeping you off your feet, putting you in your dream puffy white dress, and officially becoming the spouse of the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world! And now you were swole with his child!? Not even God could strike this man to calm him down of his glee.
You were sitting on the living room couch like you always did, waiting for your husband to return, wearing a black maternity one-piece that comfortably molded around your figure and a blue flannel shirt – his flannel – to keep you warm. Gojo came home with souvenirs to share and impress, a huge smile just from thinking about your reactions. 
However, the sight has him gasp dramatically loud and drop everything to the wooden floor, because he saw something in your hand, something that broke his heart noticing the green and white filling apparent from a bite on an undeniable white rice cake. 
You were eating the very last of his kikufuku…How could you!?
You blinked at him, then turned to the sweet in your hand, and the realization of what you were doing finally hit you. “Oh! I’m sorry, Satoru! I was feeling snacky.”
The tall man teeters to where you’re sitting, whining with every step. “So why didn’t you eat your snacks, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know?” You shrugged, licking bits of the edamame cream off your middle finger. “They didn’t seem like what I was craving for. I wanted something sweet, ya know? And I finished my ice cream two nights ago, so this was all I could find.”
“Yeah, but like,” you can tell his eyebrows were scrunched together even if the black material concealed his upper face. “That was my last one, baby! Plus, you could’ve texted me you’d eat it, or I could’ve stopped somewhere to grab you something sweet!”
“I know! But, you were very busy today; a big mission up in Kyoto and a meeting with Principal Yaga, sooo…” you squished the mochi gently, licking more of the filling coming out. “I didn’t wanna interrupt or bother you…”
“But stilllll~!”God, you were so cute when you cared for him, you almost made him forget the whole thing then and there. But you can’t hate the man for being a little upset, right? Gojo sighs and places his cheek on your belly. “Little booger, you hear what your momma is doing to me? So cruel~.”
You gasped. “Hey! Don’t say that to them!” Your free hand tries to yank him off your tummy by the hair, yet he doesn’t budge as he exclaims painfully. “What, are you saying the pregnant love of your life is some villain because they ate one of your sweets? As if I never caught you taking scoops of my favorite ice cream!? Have you no shame, Gojo Satoru!”
He swats your hand off his snowy hair, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Between you and Principal Yaga, there is a scarce few Gojo would allow to beat him up for his foolishness. He turns his head – still above the baby – to face you and releases a sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just really stoked I’d get to have that kikufuku; it’ll be a long while before I go get more…Ughhh.” Another sigh is exerted, and you can only shake your head with rolled eyes. He’s such a baby.
You bring his blindfold down to his chin to free the azure eyes he’s been hiding since this morning, and his hair falls from its spiky appearance. Then, you separate the mochi into two and push one to his lips, “You happy now?” You say with a grin. “I’m sorry, but I wanted to give these a try. Besides, we’ll have a little one to look after soon; wouldn’t it be nice for them to know what their father likes to snack on from time to time?”
Now, how in the world could Gojo still be upset with that logic? Being a father is a foreign concept he’s accepting with open arms, sharing the experience with the person he values and cherishes the most. To have a child with you is the highest honor of all for him. And imagining his small family happy and eating sweets together under his care makes his cheeks show a subtle shade of pink.
He smiles as he accepts the piece of the rice cake, chuckling when you flick his nose playfully. “You’re so sweet, angel.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.
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