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roosterforme · 9 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

-------------------------

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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rissouu · 1 year ago

Note

could you do a plug! eren x reader where eren gets super overprotective 🩷

yesss ofc! im sorry this took a while i just had to get some damn motivation 😭 i been slacking.. my bad pookies!

his hands stayed wrapped around your waist as you walked through the mall, he promised to take you on a shopping spree. and right now the only thing you really needed were shoes— so foot locker it was.

it was like eren could sense all the stares you were getting, in his eyes those tiny ass the shorts you wore barely covered up anything.. (he was just being dramatic, the shorts weren’t that tiny but he still hated them.) he made a mental note to toss the shorts out as soon as you two made it home.

he tried getting you to change before you guys even arrived at the mall, but of course you weren’t going to listen to him— you never did. that’s one of the characteristics he loved about you but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

when you finally reached the famous shoe store, you couldn’t hide your excitement. you’d always been a sneaker head after all, always having the newest pair of dunks or jordan’s, a lot of people envied you because of it honestly, but oh well.

you couldn’t resist snatching out of eren’s hold and practically running towards the shoes on display. the dunks that you’d been wanting for months finally dropped, and you just had to get them before they sold out.

“ma you know how i feel ‘bout you walkin’ off on your own,” he made his way back over to you, annoyance evident on his face. eren hated when you did this, he wanted(needed) to be by your side at all times. why couldn’t you understand that?

“im sorry babyyy, i just really need to check if they have my size!” you bent over to take the shoe off the rack— completely forgetting that your shorts were the type to rise up when you did so.

you didn’t think too much about it and stayed in your current position— throughly inspecting the shoe. the color looked better online but shit, it was still cute.

eren eventually got tired of standing, he knew how you got when it came to shoes. he’d be standing there for a whole damn hour fucking with you, so he just sat down on one of the benches used to try on shoes.

he always got so bored coming to stores with you because you always tuned him out and wandered off on your own. you were addicting to shopping and even more addicted to shoes.. the only thing he could do was sit down and go on his phone, since you’d clearly be taking forever.

you were so focused on the baby blue shoes that you hardly even noticed anyone’s presence behind you, turns out one of the workers had been eyeing you for quite a while now.. waiting for his chance to make a move. your beauty caught him off guard and he knew he couldn’t let a fine thing like you just walk away.

“hello welcome, did you need help with- oh god damn..”

that was enough to finally get eren’s attention off his phone as his eyes snapped towards the scrawny dude licking his lips— enjoying the sight of your shorts working against you.

with a low chuckle your man stood from his seat, slowly inching towards you to make his presence known. he snatched you by your waist— easily causing your form to straighten out. he took his eyes off you for one second and you’re bent over with them little ass shorts on?

he had half a mind to just fuck you right here and now to let all these muh’ fucka’s know who you belong to, but luckily he had enough self restraint.

��i’ll kill you right now man, ion even play like that. better walk yo’ ass on somewhere,” eren slightly lifted his black tee— flashing his gun that was strapped on his waist. he roughly yanked you behind him so the fucker wouldn’t dare to look at you again, and the only thing you could do was let him.

not that you would’ve resited anyway, you loved when eren got aggressive like this (not that you’d ever admit it).

“o-oh that’s you? i apologize i didn’t-“

“’fuck up talkin’ to me yo, you got five seconds to walk away before i put a bullet in you.” one death glare from eren was enough to send the worker running off in fear.

you stayed silent because you knew better than to say anything when he got like this, you were in for it once you got back home.. that’s for sure.

“fuck those shoes, we’re leaving. and as soon as we get in the car i want them shorts off,”

#malora’s works!#req’s 💋#inbox answered <3 #whewww let me know how i did yall idk how i feel about this #plug!eren #plug!eren x reader #aot x reader #aot fluff #aot smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #inbox 📥

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onlyswan · 2 years ago

Text

summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8.3k

> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, gr*nding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening

> in which masterlist!

playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)

next: in which you don’t want to give up jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).

note: this was a journey. happened back in june 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂 reblogs & feedback are much appreciated <3

—

you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.

your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only drink three sips like you usually do.

just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.

“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that for a long time. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

“open the door! hello?! ___!”

“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.

he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.

”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”

the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-

“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”

you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.

he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”

you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?

“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”

“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”

you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.

“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”

“oh- i’m so-”

you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.

he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.

“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”

he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.

“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”

—

“you didn’t even give me any signs…”

you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.

“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”

after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.

and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.

no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.

because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.

so this is how it begins.

the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?

your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.

—

“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”

the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.

“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”

“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”

jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.

“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”

a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.

you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.

the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.

“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”

he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.

“___ hasn’t called?”

jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.

“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”

“but isn’t that what you wanted?”

“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”

“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”

“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”

“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”

once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.

“talk to me. what did she say?”

“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”

and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.

“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.

he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.

if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.

“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”

“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”

fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.

“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”

yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.

“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”

with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.

“what is it?”

“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”

yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.

“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”

“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.

yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”

jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”

“because she loves you. why else?”

—

you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.

“ah, shit! shit!”

you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.

after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.

Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi

you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing on tour, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.

too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.

—

“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”

“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”

“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”

jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”

“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”

“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”

“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”

“don’t act like you haven’t thought of it!”

“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.

jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”

“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”

“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.

“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”

the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.

“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”

“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”

jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.

he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”

“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.

namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.

“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”

the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.

“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”

and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.

—

“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.

“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”

“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.

“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.

you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?

you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.

with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.

it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.

“everyone, i think i just saw __-”

a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.

“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”

none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.

“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”

“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”

jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”

they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.

that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.

but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.

—

it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.

“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.

he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.

if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.

his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.

he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?

the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.

they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.

—

“when did i put that there?”

you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.

at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.

you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.

Namjoon:

he’s been devastated since

can’t this be sorted out?

stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him

i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..

you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..

you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.

the same goes for tonight, it seems.

his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.

you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for the past three weeks… for this exact reason.

you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.

“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”

he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.

“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”

he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.

“and then here we haaave-”

following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.

“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”

he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”

in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.

“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”

he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.

“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.

the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.

because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.

with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.

—

jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.

it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.

fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.

but until the very end, you’re the braver one.

“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”

“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.

“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”

exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.

“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”

the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.

“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”

you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”

—

a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.

“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”

yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.

he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”

“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”

—

jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?

“oh. you’re back together?”

he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.

“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”

“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”

and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.

“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.

he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.

it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.

he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.

god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.

he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”

he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.

he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.

—

the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.

“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.

“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”

“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”

he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.

“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”

he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.

“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”

you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?

taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.

“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”

jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.

“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”

“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.

“love you.”

“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”

“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.

this is what he needed to hear from you that day.

“so stay with me.”

jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.

“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”

“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”

the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.

he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.

he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.

“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.

“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”

you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”

his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.

“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”

“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”

you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.

“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”

his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”

it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.

—

jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.

he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.

he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.

an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.

“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.

jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.

These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?

and messily crossed out at the end,

I miss you.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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tickettride · 5 months ago

Text

A good dad || J.D.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x wife!reader

in which your daughters want to keep the stray puppy they've found outside, and you have to convince Johnny that it's a good idea. it is, right?

word count: 2,2k

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, allusions to sex, Johnny's such a grumpy dad, sixties relationship clichés?

A/N: : while I’ve convinced myself numerous times that writing one-shots isn't for me, Benny and Johnny have stuck in my mind and never left. why shouldn’t I fantasize about them and share these moments with you?

English isn’t my first language, but I’m having fun and that’s the most important <3

“Oh, your dad’s gonna be pissed,” you sighed, eyeing the girls as they watched you back with cute pouts.

Maybe cute, but not enough to make you fold. That puppy right there, at your feet, wouldn’t be part of the family for long. You remembered broaching the subject once, trying to convince Johnny that having a dog could only be good for the girls. Running low on arguments, his response to you was just a look with a serious ‘What the fuck would we do with that?’. You had never talked about the idea again.

“We told you he was near the trash cans,” Lynn, your eldest, nearly burst into tears at the thought of letting go of the dog. “All by himself.”

The dog nudged your bare legs, tail wagging. You took a step back, knowing it would be harder to leave him at the vet if you only stroked him once. You were too damn kind for these kinds of things, and the girls knew it damn well.

The brown fur went to nuzzle against Joan next, who scratched him with more intensity than necessary. Her smile was huge, and her little giggle of happiness nearly melted you on the spot.

You shut your eyes for a second. Focus.

“Look at his ears!” Joan squealed, comparing her small hand to his head.

“Careful, baby,” you warned her, willing yourself to have some sort of authority back. “Don’t scare him off.”

“I want to keep him!”

“And who would be feeding him when you’re at school?”

Your question raised a moment of silence you had expected. It made you sigh loudly again, leaning your back against the kitchen table.

“That's what I thought. You exhaust me, you two,” you said in a breath, watching the girls hustling back to the living room on a mission to find the little beast a name.

You were fucked. All of you.

Rolling your shoulders back, you spun around and ignored the noises above your head. You were fairly certain a family of mice had taken up residence in the walls, but it didn’t matter. You had greater issues as of now, starting with the dog jumping around the girls.

While their laughter filled the house, you finished pouring boiling water into your cup and dunked a teabag inside, watching the clear water turn a bloody red. What could you even tell Johnny? Maybe you could lie and tell him the girls’ new school project was to take care of a puppy for a few days. Make them more responsible. After all, your neighbor's son had taken care of a guinea pig once.

No, you scoffed at yourself. Your husband was more clever than that. He would see right through you and ask for the truth that you would deliver because you were like that. You hated lying to him, just as much as you hated him lying to you.

Ten minutes later, your eyes were focused on the tea between your hands. You almost jumped out of the armchair when you heard the jingle of keys being thrown into the drawer in the hallway.

The front door closed with a thud and the girls looked up at you, waiting for any instruction.

And here you were, sacrificing yourself again for those two little monsters. Setting your cup down on the coffee table, you tried to appear as serious as possible and pointed a finger at them.

“Don’t move, okay? Don’t move and keep the dog with you both.”

“‘Kay Mommy,” Lynn grinned up at you, stroking the dog’s head resting on her lap.

You gave them a brief nod and cursed at yourself when you stepped across the dolls lying on the carpet, those poor things looking as crazy as you. So you quickly smoothed down your hair and waltzed to the kitchen, where Johnny was removing his leather jacket and boots. Seemed like he had finally heard after all those times you had yelled at him to stop getting the floor dirty with soil and grease.

“Darlin’?”

Johnny snapped his neck to face you with that charismatic smile he was always giving you, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. He was always making your heart flip too.

You crossed the room in no time, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sometimes you just greeted each other with a quick peck, and that was okay too. But you had missed him more than usual today, huddling up to shed warmth.

“Hi,” you whispered, hoping you looked as innocent as you sounded.

His forehead knocked against yours, and you could feel the love rolling off him in waves when he pressed a quick kiss on your mouth. And another. His face went to the crook of your neck, pressing into the sensitive skin as he pulled you as close to his body as possible. So he had missed you too, maybe more.

“We just had dinner,” you muttered, breathing in the scent of smoke clinging to his skin. “Didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny’s lips grazed your cheek. “I’m not hungry tonight.”

“You’ll change your mind when you get a taste,” you grinned, pecking his lips and forgetting for a second about the dog taking shelter in your living room. “C’mere.”

Johnny’s steps were heavy behind you, trailing to the kitchen counter. His body nearly collided with your back when you faced him again, lifting a wooden spoonful of tomato sauce to his mouth and thumbing his bottom lip gently.

“How’s that?” you asked, biting down on your lip.

“You know it’s fuckin’ delicious, as usual,” Johnny hummed, giving a smile that made you smile too. "Love it."

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his hand slithered back down your pants, steering around your backside and fondling you.

A small chuckle escaped your lips, happy to be still feeding your man after six years of marriage. It was almost unimaginable how after all these years of being with him, you still wanted nothing more than to be close like a lovesick teenager.

“Where are the girls?” Johnny asked before he could do anything to you, licking his lips as he stole a glance toward the living room.

That’s when the dog decided to bark. A low, high-pitched bark that made you want to kick him out yourself.

“Shit.”

Johnny stared back at you, no trace of that amused grin anymore. “What’s that?”

But he was already making a beeline for the other room, and you beat him to it to block his way.

“Listen to me first,” you ordered, pointing that finger again at his face and swallowing when he looked down at you that way, the same look he gave in bed sometimes. “Alright? Listen. Joan found a puppy in the garden earlier, and I’ve told the girls we can't keep it.”

“And?”

“And they–well, they were waitin’ for you to come home,” you chickened out, making him huff. “C'mon, what was I supposed to do, hmm?”

Johnny scowled, staring impassively at you and skirting past your figure to have a look at the intruder.

Mumbling another inaudible curse, you dared to look at the scene too. The dog was now curled on Joan’s lap, sleeping softly. They all looked so damn cute. Meant to be, you could say, if your husband didn’t look so unpleased.

“You’re kiddin’ me,” Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight and darted back to yours.

“We asked everyone around if they knew him and they said no,” Lynn explained enthusiastically. “That means we can keep him. He must have lost his parents.”

“They did ask,” you muttered, though only Johnny heard you.

“He's gonna be sad if we abandon him,” Joan was now the one gazing at you both dramatically, giving those sad eyes that usually made her father change his mind.

Johnny stared at the moonlight slanting through the blinds. Ten seconds felt like forever. And eventually, he retreated to the kitchen.

“Take him back where you found him.”

The girls' protests were in vain. Both were already calling for you, sniffling tearfully while the dog snored like a little king on his throne. They begged you to do something, and you knew you had to try. You hated fighting with Johnny, but you hated your daughters’ heartbreak even more.

“Honey,” you started smoothly when you found him by the front door, wide shoulders and thick arms, a cigarette dangling between his lips.

At least he had opened the door to let the smoke out.

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t,” Johnny sounded casual, as though the matter was already settled.

Angry, it was now your turn to scowl. You were already getting upset at his close-mindedness. Your dad had been like that–talking to your mom like she couldn’t have an opinion. Johnny knew you despised that attitude, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to let a man get in your way. Even less when it came to the kids.

You stepped closer to him, speaking lowly so the girls wouldn’t eavesdrop. “So you’re the only grown-up making a decision here? Is that it? You’re being selfish and… and clearly blind. You know how happy it makes them.”

Johnny’s eyes met yours, a breath of smoke separating you for a second.

“You want the dog too?” his tone was dry. “Keep it then.”

“Hey, you’re acting like a jackass right now,” you snapped, so close to his face you could feel his breathing over your nose. “It’s a decision we both have to make. I’ve never seen the girls looking so excited by the same thing, Johnny. Taking care of that dog would give them a memorable childhood. Like mine.”

He let out a dry laugh, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Playing with my feelings now, aren’t you?”

“I don’t care,” you almost whined, so tired that the discussion wasn’t going anywhere yet. “Do you fear dogs? Is that why you don’t want it?”

“What?” Johnny scoffed. “No. The tiny shit isn’t goin’ to scare me anytime soon.”

“Tiny shit,” Joan sing-sung lowly, making her way toward you both.

Beside her, Lynn was covering her mouth to suppress her giggles. The sisters exhanged a glance, more hopeful than you really were.

“Bad word, Joan,” you warned, glancing down at the dog she was struggling to cradle in her arms.

Deciding any of this wasn’t worth a fight, you let out a sigh and wordlessly turned your back on Johnny, kneeling before your daughters.

“You’ll have to leave him at the doorstep, baby,” you said quietly, brushing a strand of her hair out of her forehead. “We’ll find him a new family tomorrow, okay?”

“Why?” Lynn asked, a sob catching in her throat.

Joan was already tearing up, holding on to the oblivious dog like it would kill her to let go. You had no doubts she would be sad for an entire week, if not more. She was too kind, too.

“We’ll talk about that in the morning,” you nodded at them, waiting for a nod back. When they did, it was truly the saddest thing you had ever seen. It nearly made you cry, too.

That night, it was Johnny’s turn to tuck them in. You heard his voice from across the hallway, telling his girls he loved them. Small voices said I love you back.

You walked from the bathroom to the bed silently, Johnny hot on your heels.

“How long are you gonna be mad for?” his raspy voice broke through your inner thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

You slipped beneath the white comforter, a foot bumping into his.

“I don’t know,” you shuffled, turning your back to him and burying your head in the pillow. “How long are you gonna be an ass for?”

You had been expecting a response, but nothing came. Just a slight touch over your stomach to test the waters, slipping under your top when you didn’t tell him to stop.

“He’s downstairs,” Johnny muttered, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“What?”

“The dog,” Johnny moved your hair so he could kiss your neck lazily. “He’s downstairs.”

Out of instinct, you tilted your head, allowing him to devour the side of your throat. It was hard to stay mad at him. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on his warm fingers.

“How long for?”

“A week to start with,” Johnny replied, though you knew the dog was part of the family now. A week would turn into two, and then he would just forget about it. “Longer if he’s not a pain in the ass.”

You tried hard not to smile out of victory, reminding yourself how hard he had been to deal with. And how he was a pain in the ass.

Johnny's hand slipped over your hip when you rolled over to face him, a hand beneath your pillow.

He swallowed, not quite smiling but not frowning either. You knew he was feeling guilty, always wondering if he was doing the right thing. If he was a good man. A good dad. Yet, you couldn't think of any man who would sacrifice himself like he did. Johnny never hesitated to work overtime and make sure you had all you needed, just like he had promised you all those years ago.

Your lips neared his, a bit bashful, just wanting him to know he could be forgiven easily. It was he who made the final leap by pressing his mouth to yours. His large hand filled the dip of the small of your back, remnants of the cigarette he'd smoked on his lips. A shiver trembled down your spine as your hand stroked his cheek gently.

"Don't sideline me," you pulled away, keeping him close to you. "Please. I know what's good and what's wrong for them."

"I know, darlin'," Johnny muttered back. "I wasn't implyin' that you didn't."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on him. “I’m sorry I got upset. I've had a long day."

Johnny’s lips turned into a smile. “And I’m sorry your man’s a jackass.”

You chuckled, eyes boring into his. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. But he’s a good dad.”

He nodded at your words, kissing your temple and holding you as though he would burn down the city for you. Another kiss was pressed on your forehead and all you had to do was drift asleep peacefully, hoping that dog wouldn't betray you.

#johnny davis #the bikeriders fanfiction #benny cross #johnny davis x reader #the bikeriders #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction

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so-much-for-the-seashells · 6 months ago

Text

Being Sick but Dean Winchester’s your BF Headcanons ✨

✨ Dean Winchester x Reader ✨

Minors! Go away! Don’t interact! I don’t have a witty joke but I still don’t want you here! ¡Adios!

A/N: okay now that they’re gone… I’m sick! Some sort of nasty cold shit. Also I have the fucking la la land piano riff stuck in my head. So, more headcanons!!! (As opposed to a “proper” fic. For Dean ofc. It’s okay, it’ll come eventually)

Icons by me, all notes-especially commentary- are extremely appreciated!!

Content Warnings: if you’ve read the others it’s along the same vein, cute but still spicy enough to warrant that 18+ rating. Reader’s GN but AFAB.

Enjoy!

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-okay so first of all, being sick sucks. Whether it’s a runny nose, a headache, throat pain (get your mind out of the gutter), stomach aches, whatever- it fucking sucks.

-but it sucks a little less when you have Dean Winchester taking care of you

-this man knows how to take care of any common virus or cold. Years of taking care of his little brother meant that he could never be sick and that if he was it had to go fast, because he believed he always needed to be able to take care of Sammy first and foremost.

-once he sees you sniffling he’ll bench you from whatever job you guys are working. Immediately. No ifs, ors, ands, buts or coconuts about it.

-once the job is over he’ll come home. If you’re up and moving he’ll sling you over his shoulder or pick you up bridal style, and throw you (in a loving way) down on the couch or bed, depending on where you want to lay.

-he’ll snuggle you a little, and then take a quick shower so as not to get whatever it is you have. He’ll give you whatever blankets and drinks you want, and then head off to the kitchen

-his go-to is to make a vat of chicken noodle soup, extra lemony for vitamin c. He’ll usually either add some chilis to the soup or put some in a salad for you to help clean your system out. And it will always be better than fine dining.

-of course he cooks shirtless, and he’ll come back into the room with a big bowl of soup and your salad ready, cookies still in the oven. He’ll be wearing sweatpants and a ‘kiss the cook’ apron with nothing under it. And if you weren’t sick, you’d definitely do what the apron asked.

-he’ll help you sit up so you can eat it, putting a pillow on your lap so that the bowl doesn’t burn you and wiping your hair out of your face. If your hot he brings a bandana that he dunked in ice water and ties it around your head, if your cold he brings more blankets

-he hates that he can’t touch you or hug you when your miserable like this, but he does his best.

-while you’re eating he’ll talk about the hunt, keeping it as light and funny as possible- probably whatever he and Sam bickered about, the sights he saw, the food, etc

-and he’ll put on whatever you’d like him to. Preferably Gilmore Girls, but he ain’t gonna influence you

-when you’re done he’ll take the empty bowls to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink for Sammy to do them when he gets back to the bunker.

-he’ll grab the cookies, and bring a little plate of them over, and then sit on the sofa in the Dean cave so that your calves are draped over his thighs. If you’re in bed he’ll just lay on the opposite side, occasionally stroking your back comfortingly

-he checks your temperature from time to time, and always adapts according to your sickness. If it’s stomach bug he’s got a trash can beside the bed/couch and is ready to hold your hair. If it’s strep throat he’s gone honey. If it’s literally anything he’s probably got some kind of temporary remedy

-now (you know what time it is 🌶️)

-if you get a little hot n bothered while your sick

-and no I don’t mean hot from the fever

-but like the other kind

-and he can tell

-well, there’s a home remedy for that too 😏

-and you’ll warn him against it, not wanting to get him sick, but he’ll shush you, kissing your belly and pulling your sleep shorts and underwear down in one go

-he’ll kiss all up your legs, making you wish so, so much that you could make out with him

-but he won’t tease. Not when his sweetheart isn’t feeling well.

-so he’ll get as close to your dripping heat as he can, not making you move at all, because he knows you’re comfy on your little bed of pillows and his blankets

-and then he’ll nudge his nose against your clit, the only teasing he’ll do before diving in

-he’s gentle though. Not dissimilar to how he is in the mornings (Shameless plug, sorry not sorry haha)

-he’ll go nice and slow, adding his fingers as he goes, one at a time

-he uses one to gather your wetness and spread it over your poor bud

-and then adds another to scissor into your heat, massaging your spongey walls

-and by the third finger slowly yet deliberately filling you up, along with his mouth on your clit, he’ll have you coming, feeling so much better in one regard

-he’ll lap it all up, careful not to overstimulate you before pressing a sweet kiss to your belly, just as he did before he went down

-he’ll then get up and draw you a bath, helping you pee and then get into the tub

-he’ll dry your hair and then help you into a fresher set of pjs, and lay with you until you fall asleep, then turn off the tv and any lights before getting back in bed.

-and even though he has to sleep a little away from you he can’t help but hold you hand while you sleep, even if it means risking getting sick too

-and if you wake up in the middle of the night, he will too, ready to do whatever you need him to

-he loves you, and it’s he loves knowing that you love him too and would also take care of him if he were in your shoes

-so yeah

-sweet cutie pie caretaker ass with the greener-than-pines eyes gah

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for headcanons and/or fics my ask box is always open!!

Xx!

#dean winchester loves gilmore girls #dean winchester is a queen in the kitchen #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester is a munch

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nadvs · 5 months ago

Note

this is for the long distance part of the au

reader face timing rafe while she’s at a party drunk/tipsy and telling him how much she misses him. she’s just giggly and sad and in love cause she loves her man and misses him so bad 🤭

aaaaa i love it 🤭

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she finds a quiet corner in the kitchen as the party carries on around her. at this point, she’s enough drinks in that the room is spinning.

this was the house rafe lived in before he moved, and even though it’s almost two months into her school year, it still feels weird being here without him.

it’s been four months since he left. his season has started. his life has completely changed. and hers hasn’t, except for the fact that the man she loves isn’t within an arm’s reach anymore.

it’s nearing ten pm when rafe hears his phone ringing as he brushes his teeth. he always has it on loud these days in case she calls or texts. part of the nature of being in a long-distance relationship, he realizes, is hating himself if he ever misses a notification from her.

her boyfriend’s face appears on her screen and she feels a mix of love and joy and sadness and yearning all at once.

“hiiiii,” she slurs, her smile wide. he can hear bass-heavy music rumbling in the background.

she sees rafe’s smirk, his dimples, the way his eyes soften when he looks at her. god, she misses him.

“having fun?” he asks. she watches him walk through his condo as he holds the phone up to his face.

“barely,” she whines. “i can’t have much fun without you. it’s physically impossible. i miss you, baby.”

“i miss you, too,” rafe laughs. he can tell she’s absolutely plastered.

he rests his phone on the bathroom counter, his bare shoulder in the corner of the screen as he finishes brushing his teeth.

“shit, are you about to go to bed?” she asks, eyes wide.

“i can talk,” he says. he turns off the tap and picks the phone back up. he has an early practice tomorrow, but she’s worth the fatigue.

“you don’t have a shirt on,” she says softly.

“i don’t,” he says. he moves to his bedroom, flipping on the lamp by his nightstand as he settles onto his bed.

“you like to sleep in your boxers.”

“i do.”

“show me,” she says.

“show you my boxers?” he teases.

“mhm,” she says, her camera a bit shaky as she slyly smiles at the screen. he flips the camera, giving her a view of his legs stretched out on his bed. she takes in the sight, resting her chin on her fist, her eyes wide.

“you’re so hot,” she giggles. “how are you so hot?”

“how much did you drink, baby?” he laughs, flipping to the front camera again.

“like barely anything,” she fibs. “did you hear what that one commentator said last night?”

“no, tell me,” he says, amused. she watches all his team’s games and post-game highlights. he loves that she’s always been so interested in his career.

“he said you’re one to watch,” she recalls.

“i’m surprised you remember,” he says.

“what’s that mean?”

“it means you’re wasted,” he chuckles. she throws her head back in laughter.

“so what if i am?” she says. “you are one to watch. i watch you all the time. you look so good. i’m still thinking about that one dunk last night.”

rafe smirks. after every game, he knows when he picks up his phone from his locker, he’ll see a thread of messages from her as she texted him her thoughts throughout the game. her support is unwavering.

sometimes he wonders if she keeps up with his career just to make him feel better. but if she’s this drunk and still raving about him, she must actually want to watch him.

“you liked that?” he asks.

“i miss you,” she says again desperately. “i never knew missing someone could hurt so bad.”

“i miss you, too,” he tells her. “reading week, right?”

“right,” she says. she has it in her calendar to visit him in a couple of weeks. the last time she saw him in person was at the end of the summer.

“what are we gonna do?” he asks.

she brings her phone even closer.

“you won’t be in your boxers, that’s for sure,” she mumbles.

“i thought you had to study,” he says, teasing her for how she had told him she couldn’t visit to just have fun the whole time.

“don’t listen to sober me. she’s boring.”

“that’s not true,” rafe mumbles. “don’t say that.”

“can i say that i love you?”

“you can,” he says. “i love you, too.”

“when do you have to wake up tomorrow?”

“four thirty.”

her eyes widen even more. their time difference is only an hour. he’ll hardly get six hours of sleep if she keeps yapping.

“you need to sleep,” she says. “i miss you and i love you and go to sleep.”

“alright, baby, don’t forget to text-”

“text you when i get home, i will,” she says. “but i have my location on anyways so don’t worry.”

rafe thinks he’s always going to worry. she’s responsible and careful, but she’s still his girl, and he can’t turn the protective side of his brain off.

“be safe,” he says.

“i will,” she sings. she hangs up and he stares down at his phone until it goes black. then he taps the screen just to see his lockscreen photo.

it’s her silhouette standing on his balcony in front of the setting sun. he took the photo from his bed. he can’t wait to see that view again. he gets what she meant. missing someone so much it hurts. he feels it every day.

rafe doesn’t mind being woken up when it’s a text from her saying she’s home safe. in fact, it helps him sleep deeper knowing she’s okay.

but nothing beats falling asleep with her in his arms. life is a countdown until he can see her again. he finds comfort knowing it won’t always be like this.

#ask #swteblurb

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shittyassffblog · 1 month ago

Text

Streamer Games

Vinnie Hacker x afab!reader

Warnings: p in v sex, vinnie is a munch obvi, cursing, minors dni please!

A/N: honestly i'm just horny, if there are any facts that aren't true it's artistic expression ok enjoy

You had been invited to the Streamer Games a few weeks ago and said yes. Ludwig was a good friend of yours, and you wanted to support any way you could.

But then you found out Vinnie Hacker would be joining too. And you were shitting your pants.

You had had a crush on him for a while, but never actually spoken to him. And you were so scared you would make a fool of yourself if you did talk to him, so all throughout the event you tried ignoring him as best you could, while still stealing glances from afar.

That's until it came time to do the dunk tank. Your team mates knew of your crush and without your knowledge had planned it so you were the one to try and get Vinnie in the water. And you hated them for it.

He was sat shirtless on the seat in the tank, swinging his legs back and forth and you had a hard time not looking at him. The other team shot the first shot and missed, so now it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and fiddled with the ball in your hands, then focused deeply on the target. You put in all your strength and shot the ball, hitting he target straight on, making Vinnie fall in the water.

He came up from the water, drenched completely, using his hands to push his wet hair out of his face and he had a huge smiled plastered on his face and you were pretty sure you fell in love right there.

The game went back and forth and you had successfully gotten Vinnie in the water three times, each time he seemed to get more and more attractive to look at and you had to fight every urge to stare at his muscly body.

The round was over and your team won, so you turned around and cheered with your team, but suddenly felt a presence next to you.

"I know you did that for your own gain." Vinnie said lowly in your ear, with a wicked smile on his lips. You turned to look at him, maybe to protest, but he was gone before you could rebuttle his claim. He rubbed the towel in his hands into his hair and went to put on his t-shirt again.

You were frozen solid in your spot, because not only did Vinnie Hacker talk to you, he suggested you only won because you wanted to see him wet. And you kind of hated him for that. It was true, but why did he have to say it?

A few hours later, when the even was over and the afterparty commenced, and you were a few drinks in, you eyed the crowd and found Vinnie talking to Ludwig. You waited a bit nearby to see how long the conversation between them would last, and when Vinnie walked away from the group, you hurried over to him.

"Excuse me, but what exactly were you implying earlier when you said i dunked you for my own gain? I was on a team and we were playing to win!" You exclaimed in the loud club, and he smirked. He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the bathrooms.

"I know what sports determination is, and that was not it. You were hungry." He said and it took you by surpirse. He leaned in closer.

"You wanted to see me in that water, you didn't give two shits about winning." He leaned in even closer, backing you up against the wall, and you felt like you were being cornered.

"Why don't you just admit it? You think i'm hot, don't you?" He asked, that damned smirk returning. He placed a hand on the wall above your head and you looked up at him. He cocked an eyebrow questioningly and you looked down, nodding shamefully. He placed a finger under your chin and lifted you head so you were looking at him again.

"See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?" He asked, eyes fixated on your lips. You shook your head slowly and he smiled again.

"What do you suppose we do about it?" He asked, now looking in your eyes. You got incredibly shy, but the finger on your chin prevented you from looking down so you opted to close your eyes and exhale nervously.

"Awhh, are you shy pretty girl?" He asked and you nodded slightly, face turning impossibly red.

"Don't worry, i'll take the lead." He said, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the bathroom, through the club, saying hi to a few people on the way out the door and once you were out he wrapped his big arm around you and walked you to his hotel not long from the club.

As you stepped inside, you looked around the room. It was big, with a balcony out to a little courtyard filled with flowers and green plants, the bed was huge and had black linen on it. He closed the door behind you and then walked in front of you, and you looked up at him.

"I need to know, do you want to do this?" He asked and you paused, not really knowing what to say. He hadn't explicitly said what he wanted to do, yeah you could guess, but that's impossible. Why would he sleep with you? Before you could spiral any further, he leant down and kissed your cheek.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, eyes filled with worry that he had mistaken the signals.

"No, i think i'm just a little in disbelief." You said and he cocked his head confused.

"Disbelief of what?" He asked, one hand running up and down your arm.

"Why would you wanna do this with me? I'm nobody." You said, laughing awkwardly. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I don't think you're a nobody. I think you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen." He said matter-of-factly and your lips began to smile. You had never thought this would actually happen and now that it was he was also saying all the right things. You looked up at him, big smile on your face.

"Then I'd say yes." You said, studying his features. His eyes were questioning.

"Yes what?" He asked and you chuckled.

"Yes i wanna do this." You said, tucking a little on his tank top, a bit more of his chest tattoo showing. He smiled and leant down, capturing your lips in a small kiss. He broke apart again, looking at your face and cradling it in his hands, before going in for a nother kiss. You ran a hand down his chest, feeling every single muscle on your way down. You inched your hand under the shirt and felt his warm skin, the kiss growing deeper and deeper until you were just a miss of hands and wet kisses, not being able to get enough of each other. He pulled off the shirt he was wearing over the tank top and you helped him get off his tanktop, briefly disconnecting and you let yourself marvel over the beauty of his chest.

"Like what you see?" He asked, that cocky smile on his face again and you hummed a yes before connecting your lips again, this time with determination. He felt on the back of your dress for the zipper and pulled it down, letting the dress fall to the ground and was surprised when he found that you were not wearing a bra.

"Wow you are going to be the death of me." He said, and you laughed as you stepped out of the dress. He grabbed your waist and lifted you with ease, placing you on the kitchen counter, his hands squeezing you. You giggled at the feeling and he used the opportunity to kiss down your neck. Your giggles quickly were replaced with moans as he bit small love bites all the way down your chest, lowering your body down along the counter as he went further south. He stopped at the edge of your panties, looking up at you.

"Can i take these off please?" he asked and you muttered a quick 'please', which he happily obliged. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and tugged them down, the fabric getting a little stuck on the wet patch that had formed in them and he groaned, quickly tossing them aside and grabbing your thighs to throw them over his shoulder.

"Fuck you smell so good, can't wait to taste you." He said and you moaned. He spread your legs and ran a thumb down your slit, eliciting another moan from your lips. He used his thumb to massage your clit softly, then ran his tongue along your slit a few times.

"Fuck, even better than i imagined." He said and you gribbed on to the edge of the counter, bracing for more. He was licking you so good you barely knew your own name, and you definitely didn't hear how loud you were being.

His tongue started to enter your hole and he fucked you with it so soft and slow you couldn't contain yourself. You ran your hands along your face, laughing almost at how good it felt.

"Fuck Vinnie, please don't stop doing that." You exclaimed and you could feel him smiling into your pussy. He started moving his tongue around, keeping the fluid movements up and his thump on your clit relentless. Before you even knew it, you were coming on his tongue. He had a vice grip on your thighs, making sure he tongue-fucked you through your orgasm completely, him licking up everything you were giving him.

"Come on baby, i need you now." He said, helping you up. Before you could hop down from the counter, he wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed you, swinging you around and making you squeal. He smiled as he kissed you, throwing you on the bed. You landed in the soft bed, looking up at Vinnie taking off his belt and the unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them down slowly, agonisingly so.

"Vinnie please, hurry up!" You said has you kicked off your heels. He laughed maliciously.

"Patience babygirl. I'm gonna take my time with you, show you exactly what you've been dreaming of on that pitch these last two days." He said as he crawled up your body, leaving small kisses on his way.

"Well take your time faster, you're not even naked yet." You said and he laughed as he plopped down beside you.

"Well then do something about it." He said, his hands behind his neck. You wasted no time, pulling his underwear off and letting his hard cock spring free. Your eyes buldged a bit at the size, making you stop in your tracks.

"Something wrong?" He asked and you shook your head.

"I don't know how that's gonna fit in me." You said and he chuckled lightly. He pulled you up so you were laying against his body.

"I'll make it fit." He whispered, and kissed you. He grabbed your hips and hoisted you over him, you you were stradling his thighs. You kissed for a while like that, but soon you were feeling ballsy and decided to grab a hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps. He groaned into the kiss, grabbing your ass and pushing you further up his body. You broke the kiss and slid the head of his cock along your slit a few times, before pushing it in slowly, getting used to his size. You let go of his member and leaned down, lips almost touching as you sat yourself down further. You both moaned lowly at the feeling, your feeling of fullness satisfying you to your very core. As you bottomed out, Vinnie let out a small 'fuck' and you smiled, wiggling a little to tease him. His hands on your ass tightened.

"I'm doing everything i can to let you get used to it but you're making that very hard." He said and you smiled devilishly.

"I know something else that's hard." You said and he laughed. He hugged you tightly, and when the laughter died down, you nodded sloghtly, giving him the go ahead to start moving. He used the hug to move your body up and down, small moans escaping you. You steadied yourself with a hand next to his face and the other on his chest.

"Faster Vinnie." You whined and he obliged immediately. His hands moved down to your ass again, lifting you and slamming you back down, which elicited a load moan from your throat. He kept the pace up and you moans were just as steady.

"Fuck Vinnie that feels so good." You said and he smiled.

"Say my name again." He said, not even sounding out of breath.

"Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie oh my god, yes!" You chanted and his thrusts gained in both speed and velocity. He moved slightly and suddenly he was hammering into your sweetspot, making your moans raise and octave. The hand that was on his chest move slightly to his neck and he raised his chin to let you get a good grip.

"Fuck yeah you like it when choke you huh?" You said and he smiled, giving you a small 'uh huh' which in turn made you smile wider too. He kept hammering into you, over and over and soon you were on the brink of your second orgasm.

"Fuck i'm gonna cum Vinnie." You said between moans and he smiled again.

"Show don't tell sweetheart." He said and slapped your ass, speeding up his thrusts and soon you were a writhing mess on top of him. You barely heard him, but he was talking you through it, making sure he never faltered his movements in your not even for a second, until he was absolutely sure that your orgasm was over. He paused for a second, letting you breathe for a moment, before rolling you over and grabbing you, getting up from the bed. He walked you over to the glass door of the balcony, the gold sensation making you squeal.

"I'm not quite done with you yet." He said as he kissed you, keeping a tight grip on your hips so he could thrust into you again, the pace slow and unforgiving. You barely remembered who you were, all you knew was pleasure and Vinnie. Your hands wrapped around him, nails digging into his back as he pushed into your sweet spot.

"Touch yourself." He grunted, and you happily obliged.

"Oh Vinnie, fuck, oh it feels so good." You said and groaned in response, too focused on chasing his own orgasm to really hear what you were saying. Your other hand squeezed around his throat and he looked into your eyes.

"Fuck, baby i'm gonna cum." He said and you nodded feverishly.

"Me too Vin, me too." You moaned and you locked eyes. He kept thrusting faster and faster, your hand repeating the pattern on your clit. Vinnie had a hard time keeping his eyes open and you kissed him quickly, intent on looking him in the eyes as you came. Loud moans were escaping you both as you reached your climaxes, his thrusts become sloppy and harsh, your legs aching from being spread for so long. As you came down, he pulled out of you, your mixed juices splattering on the floor as spun you around and placed you on the bed.

"i'm gonna be right back." He said and you nodded, almost falling asleep instantly. Vinnie soon returned with a warm washcloth and a bottle of water. You took a huge sip, your throat feeling dry. He cleaned you up carefully, making sure he got everything, before throwing the cloth in the hamper in the corner of the room and laying down with you.

"Thank you." You said sleepily and he laughed.

"Are you thanking me for sex?" He asked and you laughed.

"No i'm thanking you for being good at it." You said and you both laughed. He pulled you close and you placed your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat return to normal. You laid in silence feeling his chest rise and fall softly.

You couldn't imagine a more perfect way to end a day.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hack x reader

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tokoumaru · 2 years ago

Text

❤︎ genshin impact boys as highschool love interests!

feat. xiao, childe, itto tags. headcanons, imagines, fluff, slight angst, yandere themes, modern au, afab! reader warnings. childe’s part contains yandere themes, xiao’s contains sa (not by him), and itto’s contain minor mentions of gangs, if you have trouble reading these types of tropes, please feel free to skip

❤︎ childe/tartaglia (yandere childhood friend)

in your younger years, you vaguely recalled being best friends with this cute girl with ginger hair. ever since you bravely saved her from an onslaught of bullies during kindergarten, she’s been stuck to you like glue. wherever you went, her short stature would follow and both of you would always play in the riverside next to the neighbourhoods... her name was something along the lines of jazz..? ajax?

when you had to move, tears were running down her sweet cheeks as she begged you to stay. to your surprise, she even poked a hole in your car’s tire just to stop you... though the adults dismissed it as child’s play, there was an unsettling feeling in your stomach. the last sight you saw of her was when she was resolutely looking at your leaving car with a glint no normal 6-year-old could make.

now that you’re 17, moving to teyvat high was quite hard for you. everyone had their own set of friends by now... it was quite lonely most of the time. from your little corner of the classroom, you’ve always heard the girls talk about this guy... childe, right? they always went on and on about how cool and attractive and athletic he was... regular girl talk, you guessed.

murmurs and talks of him only increased during your school’s sports fest, almost everyone was talking about him competing in the most awaited basketball tournament!

curious, you watched along the sidelines of the game. though, suddenly everyone's cheers had gotten louder and you just needed to know why.

a mop of familiar ginger hair swiftly passed by your view, dunking the basketball straight into the hoop as the crowd goes wild!

suddenly, the tall ginger’s ocean eyes landed in your direction... ah, so ajax wasn’t a girl after all. the short girl that clung onto you was long gone, now replaced with a tall boy carrying a lean body, his voice octaves deeper than your own and his world leagues away.

the next few days, you were left to wonder if he recognized you... he couldn’t, right? he had other things to worry about... such as the number of love letters he receives every day in his shoe locker.

“y/n! is that really you...? I missed you so so so much!”

as usual, you were simply passing through the hallways until ajax trapped you in between his arms and lifted you up, gripping you so tight that you had to use all your force to break free from his hold.

“is it because you don’t remember me?”

from the moment you broke free from his arms, he deflated, a pout on his handsome face. at the sight, you couldn’t help but refute him immediately in a panic.

“so you truly do remember me! that makes things easier for me, darling.”

caught off guard, you didn’t realize ajax pulled you closer to him, encasing his lean arms around your waist. then, his lips were suddenly on your lips, his calloused hand caressing your cheek... all for the entire student body to see.

the next few days were hellish, to say the least. somehow every female in teyvat high hated your guts, even going as far as to ostracize you from the rest of the student body.

you didn’t know why all these girls were being so hostile, from stealing your athletic wear to writing disgusting names on your table... all you could do was turn to your childhood friend in times like these.

whenever a girl would pour water over you or trip you on purpose, you would immediately run to ajax and vent everything.

“shh... it’s okay y/n, they’re just being petty because they know that they’ll never hold my attention like you do.”

when the bullying got really bad, you would rush to the rooftop holding back your tears. only letting everything out as ajax held you to his chest, stroking your hair while your tears soaked his school uniform.

one day, the girls who bullied you were especially ticked off. they claimed that you were seducing childe, shoving various pictures of him and you on the rooftop to your face.

no matter how much you protested, the girls only ignored you and roughly pulled you towards an abandoned store room at the back of the school. there was nothing you could do against the group, all you could muster up was bang against the door as they took your phone and locked you in the dark.

you screamed for help, you called your teacher’s names, your parent’s names, and even ajax’s name numerous times in desperation. the tears dried on your cheeks as your voice went hoarse... you didn’t know how long you were in there. the darkness was all you could see.

“y/n! are you in there?!”

ajax’s voice was like a glowing light amidst all that’s happened to you. you cried out his name and begged him to save you.

“don’t worry, darling... I’ve got you now.”

he burst the rusty door open and immediately rushed to your shaking body in the corner of the room. desperate for someone to cling on to, you immediately pulled ajax in and buried your head in his neck, his boyish scent comforting you.

“I love you, Y/N... and only I can love you...”

your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t register the words ajax had uttered, only choosing to cling to his warm embrace further and bask in the sweet comfort his kisses gave you.

as ajax’s ginger locks intertwined with yours as he buried his face in your hair, a smirk slowly graced his lips while he kissed the top of your head.

while your childhood friend mumbled sweet nothings into your ear, you slowly fell asleep in his lean arms, too tired to be able to think straight.

“it’s my turn to be your saving grace, Y/N.”

you failed to remember that you had always locked the rooftop door after entering... and that the only possible culprit left would be your one and only childhood friend.

❤︎ xiao (stoic seatmate)

being new to teyvat high, you were left to sit alone at the back of the class, though you were thankful for the window seat... somehow, your only seatmate ended up being a student named xiao alatus.

he was... quiet, to say the least. all your classmates feared him to death, you probably guessed it was because of the stoic stone-face he carried and the deathly aura around him; pair that with the numerous piercings that lined his ear and the somewhat natural red eyeliner that rimmed along his eyes, you understood with everyone walked on eggshells around him.

you were the same at first as well, never really looking in his direction or even trying to talk to him. well, that was until you were paired up for a group task by your teacher. truthfully, you were terrified, you didn’t even know how to look at him! somehow, both of you agreed to work on the task at a nearby café, a halfway point between both of your places.

up until the moment, you dreaded having to meet with xiao, even thinking of bailing on him with some flimsy excuse and doing everything without his help... though you weren’t too keen on doing this to someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.

you arrived at the café a bit early, so you decided to order some drinks in advance. you were simply thinking of what to get while queuing at the cashier until some guy started slipping his hands up your skirt.

you froze, not knowing what to do at all. a disgusting feeling settled in your stomach as your hands clammed up in fear. the perpetrator behind you was both bigger and stronger than you... you didn’t think you could even make a scratch on him.

“that’s enough, what do you think you’re doing to her?”

in the blink of an eye, the pervert’s hand left your underskirt and was suddenly in xiao’s deathly grip. xiao immediately placed himself in between you and the perpetrator, successfully blocking him from your view.

“people like you are despicable. leave, now.”

with one last glare, xiao pushed him out of the line with ease and turned to you with his arms crossed. although his face was rigid and his golden eyes were pointed in a glare, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of worry inside them.

“...call me next time.”

ever since that day, you’ve looked at your seatmate in a different light... literally. you mustered up the courage to look xiao’s way for once, and it just so happens that he was looking your way too.

upon the immediate eye contact, he immediately turned his head back to the board, the tip of his ears turning red... you truly wondered why you were so scared of him at all.

now, suddenly all you did was talk to xiao in classes. not out loud of course, but through the little scribbles you both shared in your notebooks. sitting at the back of the class and right next to each other gave you both the advantage of everyone caring less about you two... it was you and xiao’s little corner of the world almost.

the mini-conversations between you two that happened in the corners of your notebook would never fail to make you laugh once you read them again... the contrast between your cursive letters with xiao’s rigid edges were always such a sight to see.

soon, the two of you found yourself holding study sessions at the same café you met for your first project. almost every day after school, the two of you would walk together to the nearby café and sit on the tables at the very corner of the room.

“i’ll sit next to you… it’s safer.”

xiao insisted to stay by your side at all times, even going as far as to wait for you outside the restroom.

no matter how much you insisted that you would be fine, and that your perpetrator had probably been banned at the cafe already, your seatmate still wouldn’t budge.

“I simply wish for your safety, please just ignore me.”

you sighed in surrender as you heard xiao stubbornly insist, although you couldn’t deny the flutter of your heart as he scooted a bit closer to you after you two sat down next to each other

since the tables at the cafe were a bit too small for two people on the same side, your hand and his calloused ones would often brush against each other each time you tried to grab something… you tried your best to ignore the way xiao’s face would turn red every time.

though, on one occasion xiao just resorted to roughly grabbing your hand and intertwining them together.

“… its easier like this.”

...you didn’t have the courage to let go

no words were exchanged between you two the rest of the time, but when you had gotten home, a badly written “I like you.” had been written on the top half of your notebook with badly drawn hearts and flowers...

❤︎ arataki itto (obnoxious delinquent)

every time you would walk home from school, you would pass by the notorious ‘arataki gang,’ which became unpopular for their supposed mischievousness. the gang was led by arataki itto, a very tall and muscular man, strong enough to tower over even your teachers.

numerous egregious rumours surrounded the guy, some students said he was part of the yakuza because of those reddish tattoos he bore, others said he bullied kids and took their cash just to buy some cigarettes with his gang... you couldn’t help but think he was someone you shouldn’t ever cross paths with.

that was until you were suddenly face-to-face with the guy, seemingly having no way of escape.

you were simply on your way back to your class from the cafeteria when you caught sight of a cute little cat in the school’s garden. seeing as there was a bit more time till your break had ended, you sneakily followed the cat until it stopped right at the back of the empty gymnasium.

if you hadn’t been there from the start, you’d think that these guys were torturing the cute kitty cat... but it seems that they were just very aggressive when it came to expressing their love for the animal. after all, they were feeding the cat their entire lunchboxes, and much to the cat’s enjoyment, were spinning it around in glee.

“hey, are you spying on us or somethin’?! don’t think i didn’t notice you from back there, punk!”

you were startled out of the little bush you were hiding in and immediately apologized profusely to the whitehead in front of you, whose red eyes looked at you almost accusingly.

“well, why didn’t you say so! if you wanted to help us take care of little old nimble ninja over here then you shoulda just asked!”

after letting out a rambunctious laugh, he roughly pulled you in for a handshake, welcoming you to his supposed gang, stating himself as the ‘head honcho’ and introducing all 3 of his ‘underlings’ as well... you surmised that perhaps everyone had gotten the arataki gang all wrong.

you had to say, the next few weeks were very eventful, to say the least. you spent your entire breaks hanging out (against your will on some occasions) with the infamous arataki gang. all your classmates asked if you were being bullied, or if you were a delinquent as well... you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you and itto were simply feeding a school stray he named ‘nimble ninja’

contrary to popular belief, itto did none of the things he was rumoured to be doing. those red ‘tattoos’ he adorned? actually, he just said he wanted to look cool, like one of those metal bands on tv! when you asked if he was part of the yakuza, he screeched like a little girl and hugged you in his arms, desperately telling you to never utter the word again or else both of you would be ‘assassinated’ and, when you mentioned the circling rumours about him and his gang’s deeds, itto burst into tears, clinging on to you and telling you that he would never do such a thing... and you believed him, because this giant softie couldn’t even kill a fly that flew around you two as he wept.

at one point, you didn’t even think itto was capable of violence... but not even itto could stay pacifistic in the face of a clear threat.

one lunch on your way to you and itto’s usual meeting place, you had seen a bunch of students poking fun at nimble ninja, throwing insults and hurling a few pebbles at her.

seeing the little cat cower in fear, you immediately rushed in to save her, not even thinking twice about getting hit yourself. unfortunately, the delinquent’s attention went from the cat to you, and now it seemed you didn’t have the chance to escape.

slowly, the leader of the group slowly backed you into a corner, threatening you and your cat. you tried your best to resist, but there was nothing you could do being surrounded by delinquents stronger than you.

“just whaddya think you’re doing to her?”

a threateningly low voice interrupted the tension in the air. you could tell that the gang members were terrified of itto’s tall and intimidating stature. right now, itto’s long hair was tied up, his sleeves were folded, and his crimson eyes were looking directly at the leader who cornered you.

“don’t even think about getting even an inch near her... i’ll give you 3 seconds to scram, boys.”

you could tell the leader was a bit hesitant to leave, but as soon as all his underlings fled, he made a run for it.

feeling the adrenaline wear off, you sunk to the hard ground, still carefully holding nimble ninja in your arms.

“hey, are you? did those guys do anything to hurt you?!”

itto immediately rushed over to your side, careful not to touch you in case you were injured. though, when you had said you were alright. the muscular man immediately let out a large sigh and hugged you and nimble ninja tight in his arms.

“that scared the hell out of me... hehe, I didn’t know what to do if they actually tried to fight me y’know”

he laid his chin on top of your head, still holding you tight. you could feel his hands shaking, probably from fear... you had to hold in your laugh. if he was so scared, why did he put up such a front?

“I just couldn’t let you, an honored member of the arataki gang, get bullied like that! I'm your boss, I should be especially reliable!”

itto pulled back and faced you, his crimson eyes in front of yours. your noses were almost touching with the proximity.

“but... it’s probably because I like you as well, I hope you know that.”

a/n. I hate this LOL though I hope you guys enjoyed at least a little

#✧.* genshin #childe imagines #childe x reader #yandere genshin #yandere childe #genshin modern au #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #xiao fluff #itto x reader #itto imagines #itto fluff #genshin x reader #genshin imagines

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