#sigh if only😭💗

[elliotts-personal-property]

Sending you Joe. I hope you feel better soon. Cramps are awful 💖💖

Thank you so much Rosie, you seriously are the best!!💗💗

[napoftustar]

your_home_숩 ☆

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[leclercsainzz]

COOL FOR THE SUMMER

PAIRINGS: drew starkey x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

A/N: their summer fling slowly turned into a deep and genuine connection, as they realized they couldn’t bear to be apart from each other

yourusername

liked by drewstarkey, hichasestokes and 799,972 others

yourusername: when in doubt, photo dump(:

tagged: @drewstarkey @madelyncline

view 7,736 comments

user: when in doubt, post drew starkey

user: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN (drew starkey)

madelyncline: mom, i made it to the photo dump!

madelyncline: body so tea the british are coming 🫦

madisonbaileybabe: damn— im speechless 😍

user: drew is soooooo fine oml

austinnorth55: cutie 😘 @drewstarkey

↳ hichasestokes: more like HOT

↳ user: they’re just like me frfr

user: soooooo are you and drew dating or?!?!?

↳ user: girl— they’re just friends

↳ user: “friends” okay

user: MARRY ME??!? OMG 😩

user: i’m confused on whether they’re dating or not

user: BODY OMG

user: i get it, drew, i do

user: ma’am, i have feelings for you

user: she stays feeding us with the drew content

user: YN & DREW TOGETHER DURING THE SUMMER BREAK?

user: so ya’ll fucking or what?

↳ user: straight to the point, i like it 🤣

drewstarkey: who’s that fine man in the third post?

↳ yourusername: 🤷🏻‍♀️ just some weirdo i met

↳ user: so you admit he’s fine?!!?? 😏

user: how lucky of drew who gets to worship her bodyyyy

user: body goals

carlaciagrant: woah— she’s hot!!! 🥵

user: mother is mothering once again

user: body-ody frr

user: LORD PLEASE, PUT ME IN DREW’S SHOES 🙏🏼

user: the hottest girL ever, i swear

user: wowzers 🫦

yourusername

liked by jonathandavissofficial, drewstarkey and 801,028 others

yourusername: hot girl summer

view 5,927 comments

user: GIRL— thE last post?!?!?

user: that better be drew 🙂‍↕️

user: drew is definitely the one taking these pics 😉

madelyncline: did mamacita get her margarita?

↳ yourusername: she did;)

user: i looked at her post and sighed

user: that looks like drew’s hands, no?!??

user: drew and her DEFINITELY fuck

↳ user: i just know they fuck good!

↳ yourusername: we’re just friends

↳ user: LMAO “just friends”

carlaciagrant: SEXYY 😍

↳ yourusername: right back at you 💗

user: excuse me?!!!? the last post?!!? yn?!? what is this?!!?

user: @drewstarkey you lucky son of a bitch

user: the definition of mamacita is literally yn

user: his hand is under her hoodie?!!? HELLO?!!?

↳ user: i noticed it toOO 😭

rudeth: that last post? keep it pg, please

↳ user: LMAO

kelseaballerini: stunning girl

↳ yourusername: 🫶🏼 love yaaa

user: girl— is that drew?

fionapaloma: hottie

↳ yourusername: mwah 💋

user: ooh to be yn

drewstarkey: stunning

comment has been deleted

drewstarkey: you got lit, huh?

user: praying that is drew’s hand 🙏🏼

user: body goals fr—

user: yndrew nation rise up

hichasestokes: “friends” they say

comment has been deleted

user: idk if i wanna be her or date her

↳ user: i wanna be drew

drewstarkey

liked by yourusername, madelyncline and 819,937 others

drewstarkey: 🎭

view 5,849 comments

user: CHOKE ME OMG—

user: BUZZCUT?!? DREW GOT A BUZZCUT?!? 🫦

user: he just got 10x more fine with that buzzcut

user: is that yn in the third post?!??

user: HE REMEMBERED HIS PASSWORD ��

user: um? the cake?!? hello?!? SAME

rudeth: i made that cake with extra love ;)

↳ drewstarkey: 🙂‍↕️

user: nOt rudy baking the cake omg

user: is that yn in the bed?!!?

user: biceps omg— 😍

user: the things i would do to have his hands wrapped around me

user: getting the buzzcut was THE BEST decision ever omg

user: if you zoom in on the third post, it’s literally yn

madelyncline: buzz 🐝

yourusername: thanks for cropping me out on the first post(:

↳ drewstarkey: this isn’t about you, darling

↳ user: DARLING OMG?!!??

↳ user: “we’re only friends” my ass 🙄

user: my man finally remembered he had an account

user: joseph andrew starkey 👅

user: babe, come home! the kids miss you

user: yn getting that everyday omgggg 😩

hichasestokes: ooh wow 😍

user: chill— my girl is on this app

user: everyone wake up! drew posted

user: that’s literally yn, no? there’s no way they’re “just friends”

user: he called yn, “darling” sbsolslandndssksodn

user: he can choke me till i pass out with those biceps 🥰

user: need him bibically

jonathandavissofficial: 🤩

user: getting that buzzcut was the best thing you could ever do

user: @yourusername lucky mf, i fear 😭

↳ user: she fr bagged my man

user: the man of my dreams

user: HOT

user: i need to touch grass omg makslspa

yourusername

liked by carlaciagrant, austinnorth55 and 837,026 others

yourusername: 🇮🇹

view 4,836 comments

madelyncline: my girlfriend

↳ yourusername: hii babyyy;)

madelyncline: SEXc 🫦

user: so that girl on twitter wasn’t lying

↳ user: what girl?

↳ user: this girl on twitter tweeted that yn & drew were in italy

user: MOTHER 😍

user: tHAT’S LITERALLY THE RESTAURANT OMG @user

↳ user: I STILL CANT BELIEVE WE WERE SOO CLOSE TO THEM

↳ user: so you’re the lucky girl huh? 😭

user: that’s definitely drew in the corner of the fifth slide

madisonbaileybabe: ooh lala mamacita 🙂‍↕️

↳ yourusername: te amo 🫦

see translation: i love you

drewstarkey: stunner

↳ yourusername: 😘

↳ user: i am NOT normal about this omG— ajdjsksnsns

↳ user: “friends” yea right

↳ user: they’re definitely dating

↳ user: biTch omg???!??

madisonbeer: gorgeous girl!

user: do you ever not look good?!?

rudeth: wow, you’re fancy, huh?

user: babes, you’re literally so hot

user: alexa— how to be drew starkey?

carlaciagrant: my god, you’re sooo fine

↳ yourusername: are we about to kiss rn 🙂‍↔️

user: feed = blessed

user: yes yes yes yes! 😍

user: i wanna be drew so badly omg

user: drop that white boy and come my way 😩

hichasestokes: where was my invite?

user: girllll 😍

user: wishing i was drew

user: hottie alert

imessage

chase — yn

imessage

madelyn — drew

yourusername

liked by kendalljenner, drewstarkey and 844,829 others

yourusername: tomfoolery

tagged: @madelyncline

view 5,528 comments

user: born to be her man, forced to be her fan 😭

user: please, drew is so lucky

user: stunning!

madelyncline: i love yaa, girlfriend 😘

madelyncline: HOTTTT

drewstarkey: pretty lady

↳ yourusername: 🙂‍↕️

↳ user: PARENTS OMG

user: okay bodyyy

user: ur perfect

user: so are her and drew together?

↳ user: YES

↳ user: no lol

↳ user: nothing has been confirmed so 🤷🏻‍♀️

user: OBSESSED with you omgg 😍

leahkateb: gorgg

↳ yourusername: noo, that’s youuu 🫶🏼

user: when you bless our feed >>

user: 😍 soooo stunning, i swear

user: body so tea

madisonbaileybabe: the hottest :3

user: yn, give me one chance

user: are we just going to ignore drew’s comment?

madisonbeer: hello, pretty girl 😍

user: mother

user: @drewstarkey give me my wife back 😭

user: you have the prettiest smile ever

user: yndrew who? we only ynmadelyn

user: her man is definitely the lucky one

user: what’s the deal between you and drew?? 🤔

user: i think we can all agree that drew took these pics

user: in love with youuu 😩

drewstarkey

liked by madelyncline, rudeth and 823,017 others

drewstarkey: 😼

view 5,037 comments

nick_v_cirillo: 😍 wow

↳ user: yn’s biggest competition has arrived

| liked by yourusername

user: gUYS— she likes my comment kmsbdjsns

↳ user: what comment?!!? 🤔

↳ user: the onE with nick being her biggest competition

user: hey baby daddy

user: Is THAT YN?!??

user: yn?!?!!?? 👀

user: the laSt slide 😭

user: HE’S BACKKKK

user: THE white boy of my entire life 😩

user: smash

user: @yourusername oooh girl, you’re sooo lucky 😭

user: “just friends” my ass

madelyncline: are you cheating on me:( @yourusername

↳ yourusername: NEVER, my love

user: the second photo has me going FERAL 😍

user: bitch— that’s literally yn in the last slide anskdndn

user: i’m so confused 😭 are him and yn together or???

user: question of the century tbh

hichasestokes: sexy

user: sexiest man alive, i swear 😍

yourusername: hot 🫦

↳ user: girl?!!???

↳ user: this confirms they’re together right?

user: the way he’s holding her 😭😭😭

user: i just wanna be one of your girls

user: he’s so fine omg 😍

user: oooh to be yn

user: the last post, i can’t—

user: drew starkey, my man

user: making the second slide my wallpaper

user: thats the loml

user: drew starkey, the man that you are 🫦

user: i NEED him sooooo bad

user: ON MY KNEES 🧎🏻‍♀️

user: yn, you lucky bitch 😭

austinnorth55: 🤩

imessage

yourusername

liked by rudeth, madisonbaileybabe and 875,940 others

yourusername: life lately with my favorite guy drew starkey 💋

view 5,937 comments

user: oMG OMG OMG

user: i just fell on my knees in walmart 😭

user: friends or???

jonathandavissofficial: oh? 😏

user: what— UH SINE WHEN?!!?

madelyncline: YAYYYYYYYYY

user: i thought they were just friends?!??? 🤔

↳ yourusername: we are haha

user: the fourth slide, hello???!?

drewstarkey: pretty girl 😘

↳ yourusername: 🫶🏼 ilyyy

user: wait— are you guys dating or???

↳ yourusername: just friends lol

↳ user: i’m confused, hold on— 😭 what?

user: “friends” LMAO

user: i love how she’s trolling everyone with the whole “friends” bs

hichasestokes: the hottest pair of besties

📌 pinned

user: friends who fuck, maybe

carlaciagrant: love you both!!

austinnorth55: your best friends hot;)

↳ yourusername: sooooo hot

user: baby girl, i’m genuinely confused 😭 are ya’ll together or?

↳ yourusername: he’s actually the loml

user: bItch the FOURTH SLIde????

user: wait, so they’re together together??

↳ yourusername: 🙂‍↕️ yuppp

↳ user: oMg oMG SHE CONFIRMED IT

user: MOM AND DAD 😍

user: tHEY’rE TOGETHER, IT’s cONFIRMED

leahkateb: hottie

↳ yourusername: besitos xx 😘

see translation: kisses

user: WE FINALLY GOT YNDREW 😭

user: about time, omg

user: theY’re so hot together

user: SCREAMING OMG

user: OMG OMG OMG AKANSLDLSBDKDKFJ

user: the second and fourth slide 😭

user: took my man just like that

user: it’s over for us yn girlies

nick_v_cirillo: ❤️

drewstarkey

liked by yourusername, hichasestokes and 885,836 others

drewstarkey: fun times with my favorite girl yn ln 🫶🏼

view 5,736 comments

user: its official, they’re together 😭

yourusername: hiii babyy

↳ drewstarkey: come give me a kiss;)

yourusername: SEXc 😍

user: the text message

user: confirmed obx cast is yndrew’s children

user: YES YES YES YES

user: i feel so single 😭

user: we’ve lost him, girlies

hichasestokes: hey dad 👋🏼

↳ drewstarkey: hi son

user: drew really bagged the baddest girl ever 😭 iktr

| liked by drewstarkey

madisonbaileybabe: my favs! 🥰

user: his sneaky link turned into his girlfriend 😔

madelyncline: my parents 🫶🏼

jonathandavissofficial: much love for you both

user: can ya’ll adopt me too, please?

user: @nick_v_ cirillo they took your man

user: they’re so hot 🫦

user: all aboard the yndrew train

user: we get it, you’re taken 😭

user: ooh you lucky girl @yourusername

user: i love when hot people date

user: FINALLY OMG

user: about time

user: yn’s sooooo gorgeous 😍

user: idk who’s luckier him or her

user: friends or dating??

user: its official anskkssn, they’re dating 🥳

user: thank goD he remembered his insta password

user: this man is sooooo fine 🫦

| liked by yourusername

user: i love them together omg 😭

user: they make such a beautiful couple, i swear 😩

user: mom and dad

user: their babies are gonna turn out cute

user: my family 🥺

user: hottest couple ever

user: yndrew nation rise!!!

user: he’s hot, she’s hot, they make a hot couple 🤤

user: SCREAMING OMG

user: it was about time omg ajajaksndnd

[chaotic-birds]

1-800-red-hoods-gas-station-attendant-service

Your boyfriend's not fond of you pumping your own gas at night, so he insists you don't do it alone.

🩹 G/AUs: fluff, est. relt. 🩹 TW: reader (f) is called beautiful, pretty, princess, baby, doll (i love nicknames okay leave me alone 😭), mentions of blood and fighting 🩹 WC: 1.5k 🩹 A/N: Inspired by this reel (sfw). Just a little fun and easy read 💗 enjoy!

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

masterlist

Ever since Jason caught a group of people trying to rob someone at the gas station a week ago, he’s insisted you not get gas alone—especially at night.

Your arguments fall on deaf ears. He’s put his foot down and covered it in cement. There’s nothing you can say to make Jason change his mind.

“Hey, beau”—grunts—”tiful. Need somethin’?” Jason asks after the fourth ring.

You can faintly hear the sound of fists hitting skin in the background.

“You busy, handsome?” you wonder, eyes glancing at the low fuel light glaring at you. You already know his answer and the real answer before he speaks.

“Nope,” he answers followed by more grunting. “You home from your ladies' night?”

Upon seeing a gas station in the distance, you signal to take the highway's exit ramp.

“Not yet. I called because I’m low on gas and need to get some to make it home. I figured calling you while I pumped—”

“Where are you?” he asks instead, voice slightly strained.

“Near upper west side.”

“Come to the diamond district, and I’ll meet you there.”

You pull into an empty pump station.

“I’m already at a gas station, Jay. Just—”

“It’s not safe.”

“You’re tracking my location and you can hear—”

“It’s not safe to use your phone while getting gas too,” he continues to interrupt.

You heave a sigh and lean back into your seat, unable to stop your eyes from checking your locks. Although you’ve always been weary of pumping gas at night, you try not to be too paranoid. You hate being on edge all the time.

“Please, doll?” he pleads, breathing heavier.

There are curses in the background that don’t sound like Jason. His attackers must not like him much.

“Alright, but hurry. My light’s on,” you say. You sit straighter and shift gears to leave.

“I’m on my way now. Hey, Red Ro—”

The line cuts off, but you figure Jason’s recruiting Tim to take care of his loose ends. You feel bad for taking Jason away from his work, but you don’t want him to be upset with you for getting gas by yourself. He’s not fun when he’s grumpy.

Jason’s sitting comfortably on his motorcycle when you turn into the station.

When he sees your car, he stands and waves. You know there’s a grin behind his helmet.

The gas station is empty except for the convenience store worker. He looks at the vigilante suspiciously from inside.

You park at the station he’s at, turn off the car, and pull the lever that opens the gas tank. You climb out and smile at him, holding your card in one hand.

“Hi there, cutie. You come here often?” you tease.

He chuckles and swiftly pays for the gas before you can. You give him a disapproving look that he ignores.

“Only for you, princess,” he replies.

You put your card away as he takes the pump and untwists the tank’s cap.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, feeling guilty again. You figured he’d come and watch the area, not actually pump your gas for you.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You can sit back down and jus’ look pretty for me, baby.”

“That makes me sound like a spoiled brat,” you huff but do as you’re told, keeping the door open so you can converse.

Jason leans against your car as he fills your tank.

“Well, you’re only half right. You are spoiled, but that’s the way I like it.”

You shake your head at his reply, but there’s a smile on your face. Truthfully, it’s a little nice to not have to worry about anything—to just let Jason care for you.

Your eyes scan his tall form, taking in his armored-covered body and shiny helmet. You notice a few dark spots on his gloves and clothes that you figure are blood.

“It’s a little funny seeing the Red Hood pump my gas,” you quip as you grin at him.

“What can I say? I’m here to help the citizens of Gotham in any way,” he jokes.

“You have a busy night?” you ask, recalling the phone call from earlier.

“Nothin’ too extreme,” he replies.

When your tank is full, he returns the pump and twists the cap back on.

He moves in front of you, resting one hand on the car’s top while he leans down.

“If it weren’t for that goober watching us like a hawk, I’d give you a kiss,” he says.

“Only a kiss? I’d pull you in the back seat and have some fun,” you say with a flirty smile.

He laughs and lowers his head more. You’re so tempted to kiss him.

“We’ll have fun at home,” he says.

“You’re coming back with me?” you ask, eyes opening wider with hope.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, princess. I still need to go help Tim. I’ll be back soon though.”

“Define soon,” you reply with a slight pout.

Jason drops in a squat so he can take your hands; the act is hidden by your door.

“An hour or two?” he says. “But don’t wait up. It could be longer.”

You nod solemnly.

Jason squeezes your hands, thumbs rubbing your skin tenderly.

“Text me when you get home, ‘kay?” he asks.

“Okay,” you say.

Jason releases your hands to rub your thighs.

“Thank you for calling me,” he adds.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want my boyfriend upset with me,” you huff halfheartedly.

Jason squeezes your legs.

“Just want ya safe, doll.”

“I know,” you sigh and place your hands over his.

“I better get going,” he says and reluctantly begins to pull away.

You grab his hands to hold him close.

“Ya know, you might as well just kiss me. I think the worker knows you’re not just here to pump a random Gothamite’s gas.”

Jason chuckles and takes a peek at the window. The worker still looks on, but now with a confused face. When he notices Jason staring, he averts his gaze. Though, Jason knows it won’t last long.

“Fine,” he relents and leans down.

You grin, reaching out to cup his helmet as you kiss the cool material. Of course, it’s not the same as feeling his lips on yours, but the sentiment is felt.

“Love you,” you murmur as you pull away and drop your hands.

Jason sighs longingly. “Love you too, beautiful. See you at home.”

“See you,” you reply.

Jason ends up following you for a while for extra precaution before heading back to his patrol shift. He doesn’t come home for another three hours.

When he does, you’re on the brink of sleep. Still, you turn in his arms so you can snuggle your face against his chest.

“Missed you,” you mumble.

His chest vibrates as he laughs. “You saw me a few hours ago.”

“And what ‘bout it, Todd?” you huff.

He pulls you even closer and rests his head against yours. His body feels so nice. You wish you could stay in his arms for days.

“Nothin’, doll. I missed ya too,” he says in a deep, tired voice.

“Hmph! Thought so,” you reply and carefully lift your head to give him a triumphant smile.

Jason releases an amused puff of air.

“Get some sleep, silly,” he says.

“Kiss first,” you demand, puckering your lips dramatically.

Jason grins and angles his face to give you a tender smooch.

Your lips spread in a grin upon feeling him directly.

When he goes to pull away, you whine in protest and chase after him. You capture his mouth again before he can get too far.

Jason laughs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. His hands trail up your sides to cup your face. His warmth spreads from your cheeks to your heart.

There’s a dopey, sleepy smile on your face when you pull away.

“God, I love you,” Jason says with the utmost sincerity that squeezes your heart.

“Not as much as I love you,” you sing-song, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Yeah, right,” he chuckles and moves his hands back to your sides. He slides them under your shirt to feel you directly.

Instead of arguing, you lean down to kiss him once more.

“You’re comfy,” you mumble.

He can’t stop the happiness that shows on his face at your words. He gently eases you down by pressing lightly on your upper back and says, “Good. I like you like this.” 

He adjusts his head against his pillow and closes his eyes, arms holding your body to his like a teddy bear.

“I like being here,” you reply and lay your head on his chest. You love hearing the rhythm of his heart.

You feel him give your head a kiss before he gets settled. It’s not long before his breathing gets steadier, and his arms lax slightly around your body. As you join him in dreamland, you realize you’ll never feel safer than in his arms. 

A/N: I have this for my other blog, so I wanted to share it here too: For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hii!! I love your writing sm like you’re literally my go to blog when I get bored and I end up rereading your fics 😋. Not sure if you have rules or anything so idk what I can and can’t request (IF YOU DO AND THIS ISN’T IN LINE WITH IT I’M SO SORRY.. 😭).

Could I request the harbingers crushing on reader? Like I can imagine them being slightly more lenient with reader which confuses most of the soldiers. Again feel free to ignore this 💗‼️‼️

(giggling and kicking my feet rn, this is the type of partially-satirical fluff I headcanon. Hope you like it)

✦ When they secretly have a crush on you

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

✧ The ever-cold and impeccable Pierro – a mystery that even his associates and top harbingers cannot decipher. Not many can be considered as his close confidants, so none is certain of his personal life and preferences. A cold, stern man like The Jester probably doesn’t waste a glance on frivolous affairs or pleasantries. Even if many high-status people tried to approach him - aristocrats, business partners, or noble ladies; his cold gaze shuts off any initiation for close relations. No, he sees their greed for power too clearly to be swayed.

Yet Pierro harbors a deep secret. He does fancy a type… and that type is you.

It’s not simply your physical attributes or style, his ‘type’ is literally everything you embody. The shape of your jawline when you lower your face, the delicate shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks, how your chest moves when you take a deep sigh. From the minor and inconsequential attributes, he memorized it to his heart until the only thing his gaze is seeking is you across the room. He was always silently enamored, his eyes watching you with reverence. However, he is a mastermind, first and foremost. Concealing his inner sonnets for his love for you came naturally just as he conceals half of his face with a Khaenri’ahn mask.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious. Nervous, even. Facing off the most powerful man, cursed with immortality just as you all those centuries felt intimidating, especially when you couldn’t grasp why his gaze kept lingering so melancholically.

“It is… good to see you again, Pierro,” – that was your initial words when the two of you spoke formally. In truth, your mind was filled with wistful thoughts: he probably settled down with someone after 500 years of immortality.

In the meantime, Pierro’s mind was at comical odds with his cold exterior as he thought: Hmmm… Yes, I’ve already decided on the name of our potential third child.

But of course, he didn’t say that, even if he looked slightly mesmerized. Instead, he just settled with a polite: “A pleasure, indeed”. It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.

✧ Il Capitano was avoiding you like the plague, and you couldn't fathom why. Whenever you crossed paths, his oppressive silence would intimidate you further. He would linger behind you, a looming presence so quiet that at times, you’d forget he was even there. Alas, when you finally muster up the courage to approach him directly, he'd respond with the briefest of words, avoiding any attempts of chatter.

It infuriated you. So much so that you started wondering if perhaps you did something wrong. He sparred with you countless times, the taste of a battlefield is nothing foreign when he trained alongside you. You felt like a stranger. Why he was so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension, and alas, his pitch-black expression did not portray any facial clues on what he was thinking.

The truth of the matter is that Capitano has mastered the art of keeping his head impassively still. With a helmet on his face and lack of visage, no one sees his gaze ogling your form whenever you train. Your movements mesmerize him during battles, your legs swift and your stance is powerful. Of course, he would be silent when he is staring directly at your beauty in action. You rendered him speechless, and now the Harbinger is diverting himself by discreetly peeking at you. Thank the archons for his helmet hiding his gaze.

But the Captain scolds himself. No, he mustn’t! It is improper of him to even lay his eyes upon a being so diligent and strong as you, he must respect-… Nope, his head is automatically turning towards you anyway. Lost in his silent battle of self-reprimand, he didn’t notice you suddenly approaching:

“Captain, we need to talk. What is the reason for your cold shoulder towards me? If I have done something improper you must tell me… You always avoid me, even when we’re supposed to cooperate.”

The same characteristic silence followed him, however, seeing you cornering him so sternly, even the Harbinger had to drop his resolve.

“...You must forgive me. Your beauty had overwhelmed me to such an extent that I felt ashamed to admit how you rendered me speechless to approach you.”

✧ A long time ago, before Il Dottore bore the title of a Harbinger, there was a young boy named Zandik. This little Zandik was trainee Dastur, a prodigy of his field and academic year. But he wasn't the only top student of the Akademiya, in fact, this young man was standing in the shadow of a brilliant senior student whom he always looked up to with innocent wonder – you.

You weren't aware of the younger student with short turquoise hair trailing you. He, however, was aware of you because your portrait often graced the accomplishments of the establishment, thesis research, and any academic honors of the top young researchers. Since you were a senior, Zandik couldn’t share lectures with you, yet it didn’t stall him. Every thesis bearing your name, he read; every book you borrowed from the House of Daena, he memorized meticulously. His revenant studies of everything you did mesmerized his young mind, leading him to linger behind the lecture hall doors, drawn to where you so often spent your time.

It was a harmless habit, the boy believed; surely you never noticed him?

One day, Zandik spotted you chatting with your peers in the hallway. Unfortunately for you, you inadvertently left behind your precious notebook, forgotten in the rush to your next class. The young man didn't have it in himself to run after you and directly return it. Instead, it was his chance to study your secrets. His hands hesitated only briefly before he grasped the notebook, feeling the weight of the handwriting he so admired.

When he first opened the notebook, the first page read in massive writing: “I KNOW YOU'RE STEALING MY NOTES – THIEF.”

That was approximately 400 years ago. So much so that the memories of your student self were long forgotten in your mind. When you later on met the 2nd of the Fatui Harbinger, you expected the Fatuus to coerce you for cooperation. To demand you to leverage your expertise in Khaenri'ahn technology, or perhaps blackmail you into his maddening cause. But none of that transpired.

The grown man, now known as Il Dottore, stood blankly in front of you, eerily placid. His once youthful awe had matured into something far more inscrutable, like a long-buried sincerity breaking through his Doctor’s mask. Without a word, he extended a hand, offering you an old, tattered notebook. It was that same old notebook from your Akademiya days.

“... Huh? Where did you get this?”

“Perhaps a young boy was too excited to pilfer what wasn't his. I apologize for borrowing it. That boy never wanted his idol to think of him as a thief. If it wasn't so arduous to seek you out all those centuries, I would've returned it to you earlier.”

✧ With his face perched on his knuckles, Scaramouche sat down listening to your ramblings. You would think a Harbinger with his temper, would long since exhausted his patience, waving you off to scram from his presence. Yet the moment you start talking, he is obediently listening, like a devoted man waiting for his blessing from the Grand Narukami Shrine

“But I never saw you enjoy any snacks or drinks while you’re out,” – you mused with excitement, launching on a tangent about this mysterious Inazuman beside you. “Oh! How about this, I’ll start guessing your favorite pastime food or beverage and you tell me if I am right or wrong.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, but crossed his arms indifferently - “A futile endeavor but suit yourself anyway.”

Undeterred, you accepted the challenge. You listed each and every single delicacy in Teyvat that you could recall, from Inazuman mochi, dango, and sake to even Mondstadt’s Cold Cut Platter and wine. The Balladeer only scoffed, amused at your silly attempts to deduce him, as if he was some mystery you should decipher.

“Ugh, Okay! My last attempt. Is it… green tea?!”

Scaramouche went silent at the sight of your anticipation - “Hm,”

“No way… did I guess correctly, at last! Are you a herbal tea enthusiast? Oh, I knew it, I knew it!”

You exclaimed with unattained joy, leaving the Balladeer to silently observe your self-proclaimed victory. The truth of the matter is - that wasn't the correct answer. Scaramouche doesn't care for any teas or snacks, not when his artificial palettes found human indulgences to be redundant. Yet, looking at your jubilant face, glowing with delight as if you’d uncovered some profound world secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. How foolish.

“Hah, fine, you got me. You must be thrilled to guess something so mundane.”

“Well, maybe mundane to you, but I was pretty curious what a living puppet would prefer to drink.”

Your sudden words caused Scaramouche to freeze. He never told you he was a puppet by nature, and most people would never guess what he is. Yet here you were, stating it so simply and obviously. Most ridiculously, you didn’t seem crestfallen by the weight of this truth. “You knew…? I'm not sure if I should compliment your keen observation, or if this is another one of your random guesses. What gave it away?”

“I thought it was obvious.” - you eased a sincere smile, your hand reaching to carefully brush a stray hair on his head. “No regular human would have such a perfectly pristine face like yours. Even if they had the most luxurious face-care routine.”

If puppets had blood flow, there would've been a pink hue dusting his cheeks. It seems he was the fool here after all. Ever since that day, he has found the taste of green tea to be rather soothing.

✧ A popular misconception about Pantalone is that he allowed you to walk into his life and pursue him so easily. Trully wrong. In reality, it was this Harbinger who had been pursuing and courting you from the very beginning - like a lovestruck fool, no less.

At first, Pantalone tried to be the charmer. He’d offer you heavy bags of Mora as if it was pocket change and say in his best alluring voice - “Go spoil yourself with something new, dear. I want you to look your best on our next date.”

The issue was you were dense like a rock. Because you blinked at the mora and said simply: “Why? I already have comfortable clothes, I don’t need any right now.”

He wanted to slap himself. Any attempts at spoiling you with riches or gifts were futile, especially when you humbly rejected his monetary help out of casual practicality. You always stated that others in need would require it more. Very well, he won’t sulk just yet. He decided on his next act of refinement. He’d invite you with him to any luxurious events: galas, opera performances, dinner parties; all carefully orchestrated to impress you, showcasing how he can provide you with any wonder from the world, linking his arm elegantly with yours to flaunt how you’re accompanying the 9th of Fatui Harbingers himself.

That didn’t work as well. Whenever a business meeting occurred with vital connections, your gaze bore no interest in the wealth of the higher class, nor did you beat around the bush to dismiss yourself. Instead of marveling at the company of riches and endless champagne flutes, he’d instead find you marveling at the ducks swimming in the pond of a garden – “Look, duckies!”

Pantalone was in visible distress. All this gold that people die for yet you so naively dismissed him. Was he unworthy of your simple love? Was he too pompous for you and forgot his own origins? His self-doubt gnawed at him at night, so much so that his own subordinate would see him pacing in his office with a tremor of restlessness, thinking how he should open this topic with one he so openly treasures.

“My dear, please tell me what your heart seeks,” – he once opened the discussion with you, his hand clasping yours in an act of pleading. “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable with my actions. Just say the word and I will bring you what you want.”

Once more, you blinked at him in that same sweet innocence, but instead, you spoke with a smile: “Oh, you silly, silly man Pantalone. I never wanted your mora or status. I do not wish to be indebted to you, no. I just wish you to be as you are. If you want to take me to a restaurant, take me there, not because it’s a fancy establishment, but because it has your favorite food. Plain and simple.”

The young Harbinger didn’t know it was possible to fall in love even more. It seems he mistook your humble sincerity with naivety, never once pondering that perhaps you didn’t want a partner for the sake of connection or money. That being his true self was something he could even offer you.

In the upcoming days, Pantalone’s subordinate could clearly see was smitten beyond logic or reason. Like a grinning child, resting his chin on his palm when sitting behind a desk, feet almost kicking with excitement. He really was enamored with you from the start.

✧ If there is one thing Tartaglia’s heart relishes, it’s the rush of a challenge. And you, as a whole, challenged this young man on a daily basis. His bubbling persona and eccentricity to rush into action was an antithesis to your blunt calmness and reason. If he is the one launching into battle, you are the one who is yanking him by the collar while maintaining that unimpressed look.

Thus, as a challenge, Childe took it upon himself to make you break that serene attitude from you. At least once, and his heart will soar with victory. Unbeknownst to him, everything he did fumbled.

He started with cheesy attempts to flirt with you, flipping his ginger hair back while leaning on the wall with a captivating smile to make sure your eyes were on his form alone. It might have made you swoon, if he hadn’t miscalculated and leaned against the door instead, stumbling awkwardly when it swung open.

Another attempt was made when he tried to play the savior. The two of you were strolling when a Hydro Hilichurl Rogue stumbled upon your path in the wild, its makeshift scythe warning you two to get away. For the Harbinger, this was an easy opportunity to dispel such a puny target and save you. Except the Hilichurl Rogue kept throwing hydro slimes, which his vision of the same element was useless against. You managed to drag Tartaglia (almost) unscathed.

Everything was going against Tartaglia’s luck and he felt like an utter failure in front of you. He’s the 11th, for crying out loud, he always fairs well when something challenges him. Yet here he is, getting bandaged by you after fumbling countless times in your presence. Your first impression of him must be beyond salvageable at this point.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you’re a problematic teen who gets into trouble all the time. Because you sure act like it,” – you stated to him simply. Securing his cuts and bruises on his shoulder.

“If I confess that such accidents rarely happen, would that change your opinion of me, or is it too late to start from zero? Ouch-” he winced when you tightened the bandages, his bruises not alleviating the sensation. The culpability of it all made him sulk, realizing he was probably putting you into trouble with all his shenanigans. “I’d die for you, you know.”

“That is the dumbest thing I've heard.”

Your words were concrete, his gaze averted with guilt and sorrow. But you continued quaintly.

“Why would anyone say something so senseless? I don’t want you to ‘die’ for me or anyone, even. What about ‘keep living’ for someone? For me… for your family, for yourself. Anyone can blindly plunge themselves to their death, but it takes actual courage and strength to keep living for those you care about. So please, do that for me instead of getting into trouble.”

The once serious expression on Tartaglia's softened with each word you spoke. Now he realizes that perhaps you putting up with his impulsivity stemmed not from frustration, but out of sincere worry. Maybe in his attempt to charm you, you were the one charming him all along. Especially when you sit so close to tend to him, it would feel so natural to wrap his arm around and embrace you.

“You’re right… I suppose it is reckless. Living for yourself seems truly priceless if it means seeing you beside me for another day.”

[moonstruckme]

Hii i have a request for doctor!remus or maybe emt!marauders (whichever you think goes best) with clumsy reader who is constantly covered in mystery bruises and maybe she bumps her head a lot in a just a few days between them and they find out bc they feel or see the bump or they see her bump her head and maybe gives herself a concussion ?? This is kinda what happened to me a few days ago when i smacked my head really hard and then yesterday at an appartement sighting right infront of the previous tenants and the real estate agent 😩 and i remember walking home and seeing like these white spots you see after hitting your head, you know?? And thinking oh if the boys where here they would be scolding me soo hard but also the coddling i just wanted to be wrapped up by them 😭

Oh god sorry for the long unnecessary and embarrassing backstory 😅

And ofcourse you only have to write this if you want to !! Hope you have a great day 💗🫶🏻

Thanks for the request lovely, hope your head is okay!!

cw: concussion

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 658 words

Sirius watches you, nearly falling asleep against Remus’ side at one in the afternoon. You’ve been in a funny mood all day, only wanting to lie around with the curtains drawn and watch films you hardly seem to be paying attention to. It’s not very much like you, but your boyfriends are more than happy to go along with it. Remus has been half drifting off too, while James keeps going back and forth between the kitchen to make more snacks and Sirius sits with your legs across his lap. 

“Is your head still hurting you, lovie?” James asks as he sits down again, probably only for another ten minutes. 

You hum discontentedly. 

Remus responds by holding you to him as he leans forward, taking your water bottle from the coffee table. “Drink some more,” he tells you, voice rough with drowsiness. 

Sirius watches vigilantly as you take a few slow sips. You look tired and put out, but your expression eases into something closer to contentment when Remus pets your hair approvingly. Sirius sees the moment your boyfriend’s brow furrows. His frown as he looks down at your head, moving his hand over the same spot again. 

“Dove, what happened here?” 

“Hm?” You look up at him, but then Remus must press down slightly because your expression pinches. “Ow.” 

“What is it?” Sirius scoots closer. James leans forward in his chair, too.

“There’s a bump on the side of her head,” Remus says worriedly. He’s trying to part your hair to see better. “Can you lean forward for me, love?” 

Sirius sets a hand on your shoulder, encouraging you to bend over and murmuring a thanks when you do. While Remus tries to turn on his phone flashlight, he brushes his fingers gently over your head. You inhale, and his heart flinches. 

“Sorry.” He kisses your hair consolingly. “Do you remember bumping it?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, as though the mere memory exhausts you. “I knocked it on a cabinet yesterday at work.” 

“You knocked it hard?” James stands up, peering over Remus’ shoulder as he inspects your head. 

“It felt hard at the time, yeah.” 

“Angel, why didn’t you say anything? You ought to have called us after a bump like that.” 

You shrug. Sirius can see you looking sheepishly into your lap. “It was embarrassing, and it didn’t seem very bad. It’s fine now, just a bit sore.” 

“But you have a headache,” Remus says dubiously, “and you’ve been tired ever since.” 

You hesitate. “Yeah, but…” 

“Can you look up here for me?” Sirius touches under your chin, prompting you to sit back up. He holds up his flashlight, making sure you see it before clicking it on. 

Though it shouldn’t be a surprise, you flinch hard, your face scrunching with the force of your squint. Sirius clicks the light off. 

He kisses the space between your brows. “I think you’ve given yourself a mild concussion, sunshine.” 

“Really?” you ask, bemused, at the same time as James makes a horribly dejected sound and leans over for a hug. 

“Our poor sweetheart,” he laments, bent over awkwardly with his arms around you. “No wonder you’ve been feeling so odd today, hm? We really shouldn’t be letting you watch TV while your brain’s trying to recover.” 

“No, we shouldn’t,” Remus agrees, reaching for the remote and switching it off. “How do you feel about a nap, dovey? You’ve seemed sleepy.” 

“That’s a good idea.” Sirius mushes another kiss into your temple. “It might help a bit with your headache, and I know Remus would nap with you.”

You hesitate. James tightens his hold and Remus strokes the hair near your injury, each of your boyfriends desperate to dote on you in their own ways. “Sure,” you say. “That could be nice.” 

“There you go, lovie,” James says approvingly. “If you hadn’t wanted to cuddle with our Rem, then we would’ve had to really worry about your head.”

[elstattoo]

Ellie (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship)

MINORS DNI, MEN DNI

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

WC: 7k

Summary: Ellie was infatuated the day she met you. The two of you instantly growing close, in turn she fell in love with you. One problem, she was a coward.

Content: 18+, best friends to lovers troupe, college auish, loser!Ellie, femme type reader, both Ellie and reader are oblivious asf, weed (e using), smut, sub! ellie, thigh riding, pussy eating, fingering, biting, marking, top! reader

Divider Credit: @enchanthings (I love your work so much! You make the cutest stuff) 😭💗

Author’s Note: Huge thank you to @astralnymphh for reading this for over and giving me suggestions! You’re the best and I love you mwah!! You also inspired me to write loser Ellie… Sooo ♡ Based on the song Jenny by Studio Killers! Also… We need more sub! Ellie… please

I. A Smile Beyond Words —

Both you and Ellie had been friends as long as you could remember. The memory was like yesterday: it was first when Ellie moved into your neighborhood, your mom lugging you over with her, freshly baked cookies in hand, she knocked gently on the door and waited for an answer.

“Mom, they’re still unpacking. This is probably such a bad time,” you sighed. Anxiously you began bouncing your foot, staying close to your mom almost to hide yourself from whoever would answer the door.

A smile was still present on her face. With a hand, she waved you off. “Nonsense, sweetheart! Who wouldn’t want home-baked goods?” she giggled. The house's front door opened, and a gruff-looking man nodded, greeting you both. 

“Hello, may I help you?” he remarked, his hands still steady on the door. 

“Hello! Sorry to bother you sir, but my daughter and I here saw you move into the neighborhood..” your mother began, her tone was cheery, and welcoming, “And we wanted to say hello! And give you this.” She offers him the cookie container.

His mouth hung open for a second in disbelief, before he collected himself and took the container from her hand. “That’s very kind of you, miss. My name is Joel… Joel Miller,” he mumbled, his other hand reaching out to offer his hand out to shake your mother's.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Joel… Got any kids?”

“Yeah.” His eyes fell onto you briefly before continuing, “Probably about your age actually, let me call for her.” His head turned, and he yelled: “Hey Ellie! Come greet our neighbors.”

A voice from farther within the home yelled back, clear annoyance in the tone, “Hold on!”

“No! Ellie, now,” he hollered, rolling his eyes, and turning to your mom. She laughed, knowing all too well how that felt. 

A sigh escaped Ellie’s lips. She stopped unpacking her room and made her way to the front door, where she saw her dad chatting away, a container in his hand, and a woman on their front steps with a girl who looked her age beside her.

Joel noticed Ellie and cleared his throat, “This is my daughter… Ellie.”

Ellie, now seeing you, awkwardly stood beside Joel and didn’t dare utter a peep. Her freckled cheeks flushed, embarrassment crawling over her bones realizing not only your mom heard her reply, but so did you. She realized the tone she used wasn’t the best… especially for her first impression. Joel’s free hand slung around her shoulder, and she groaned, waving at you realizing that’s what he was hinting to do. 

She didn’t expect you to brightly smile at her and introduce yourself, finally feeling at ease seeing a girl your age in your neighborhood, let alone your next-door neighbor. And, that’s how you and Ellie met.

She’d somehow found the courage to bring you to her room, posters of Savage Starlight, space, and her favorite band adorning her walls. 

“Wow! Your room is so cool, I haven’t had a girl my age like you in our neighborhood in… who knows how long,” you sighed. 

Ellie gulped, nervously fiddling with her nail beds. “U-uh thanks…” Her eyes were glued to the many boxes still scattered around her room.

You settled your eyes back on her, noticing her frigid gestures. I know you’re nervous, but I am glad to meet you,” you beamed, hand reaching out to shake hers. “I do want to be your friend… Your best friend, maybe even…” 

Ellie laughed the thought at the time seeming impossible to her lonely self. “You’re joking right?” She bit her lip, feeling bad suddenly because of her tone.

You shook your head, reaching out and grasping her hand. “No, I’m serious. I promise, pinky swear,” you winked at her, holding out your pinky.

Her mouth hung open, this was the first time something like this had ever happened to Ellie. “Okay…. Let’s give this a try then—shall we?” She stuck out her pinky finger, twisting it with yours to conclude the pinky promise. 

From there, the two of you were stuck together like glue in your college, even through your high school years. The two of you had a relationship like no other, even with the new friends you’d both made over the years.

Things never changed.

II. Best Friends —

Even though you and Ellie met at fourteen, it didn’t stop you from having things like matching bracelets. Both you and Ellie had a set of bracelets you made together, first when your friendship had started. 

It was an idea sparked when the two of you were looking for a specific movie. You shuffled around different items to try to discover the movie you’d both tried your hardest to find. But with no luck yet, you kept your search up.

This leads to you finding a box of beads, strings, and other things to make bracelets or other jewelry. 

You glanced over the box, showing it to Ellie. “Hey! This looks fun, Ellie. Let’s try it. Pretty please…”

She rolled her eyes, her slit eyebrow-raising. “Beaded bracelets? What are we—in middle school?” Ellie teased, she was kidding and wouldn’t ever want to be mean to you seriously. She’d never want to cross that line or break it. 

You pouted, hugging the box to your chest. “Ellie… If you’re going to be my friend… We need matching bracelets, so…pretty please?” You gave your best puppy dog eyes, trying to make them appear bigger to guilt Ellie into accepting. 

She was going to accept, either way, she just liked pushing people’s buttons. “Of course we can do it!” She smiled at you, grabbing the box and the two of you created each other a bracelet. It read your name, yours reading hers, along with your favorite color beads, and some charms. 

You smiled, looking over the bracelet now on your wrist. You’d swore you’d never take it off, and Ellie did the same. 

“Thank you,” you shyly said.

You were too kind, too kind to be thanking for something like a friendship bracelet. She was just so honored to be your friend, so silently, Ellie hugged you. 

The embrace cut you off guard, her not saying anything back besides abruptly pulling you into a hug. A hug you never wanted to let go of. 

Ellie’s physical affection towards the people she loved was one of her strongest ways of showing she cared about someone, including you. She was like a koala bear.

Your koala bear. 

III. Stolen Lipstick —

Ellie was captivated the day you smiled at her; it took her breath away, and even to this day, it makes her heart pound slightly in her chest. Ellie stared at you, sitting in your vanity chair and applying lipstick to your lips. She observed the way the pink made your eyes pop, the color complimenting the color of your skin.

You hummed, shaking your head, hand extending for a makeup wipe to remove the color. “It’s not the right one, El. I don’t know, I’ll try this one,” you frowned. You removed the previous color, puckering your lips, and applying the new darker shade of pink to your lips. “Yep! This is the one.”

Ellie smiled, loving either color on you. “Whatever makes you happy, babe,” she shrugged, the stupid giddy smile never leaving her face. It was like you cast a spell on her from the day she met you, that had her obsessed, and hopelessly in love with her perfect best friend.

You shifted your body to face her, “You’re too nice to me, I’m going to the bathroom, and then let’s get going, okay?” You muttered, getting up and slipping out of the door hearing a little ‘mhm’ from Ellie.

Once Ellie was sure the coast was clear, she got up from your bed and slipped over to where you sat only moments ago. She grabbed the previous color of lipstick you wiped off, pocketing it into her baggy camo pants. She figuratively crossed her fingers, hoping and praying you wouldn’t notice the color gone. In her gut, she felt bad but knew it truly would go unnoticed due to the many lipsticks you had.

She swallowed, awkwardly looking at your vanity for a moment then remembered you’d be back soon. She went over to the bed and laid back down in the position she was previously in before you left. Her face hit your pillow, the scent of your perfume filling your lungs, almost lulling her to slumber. Ellie was almost grateful she scurried back into your bed, because only seconds after you came bouncing back into your room. 

“Hey! Sleepyhead! Wakey, wakey let’s go,” you excitedly clapped your hands together and walked over to your bed, where Ellie was comfortably lying.  

She groaned, turning her head propped up on your pillows to face you. “Alright, fine I’m getting up,” she spoke and got up from your bed. 

You grinned at her, and it made her hold her breath at the sight. As a person you are so alluring and pretty to Ellie, the simplest thing like your smile had her down so bad. It was almost hard to be around you at times. The two of you were always together, so always pushing aside her feelings for you was swallowing her whole. 

But one thing about Ellie is that she is a coward. A coward too afraid to admit her feelings for you and ruin your friendship. So that’s why she did little things, like stealing your lipstick and other things now and then. It was nothing you’d miss, but those things meant the world to her. So, Ellie felt like both a loser and a coward simultaneously.

IV. Hidden Sorrows —

Silence. A dead silence fell over Ellie.

Ellie felt her mouth run dry, she opened it for a moment and quickly closed it, still at a loss for words. Her brow arched, green eyes glimmering under the car’s light. “You got a boyfriend…?” She uttered, finally forming words.

You were sitting next to her in the passenger seat, nervously fiddling with your manicured nails. “Mhm, he asked me out yesterday, and I wanted to tell you. Are you upset?” You noticed her quiet behavior when you mentioned it and frowned. 

Ellie noted the obvious frown on her face and shook her head, “No, no! I didn’t mean to come off that way. Just… scared he’ll hurt you or something,” she whispered. She tried to play off her quietness and shift in attitude upon hearing the information as simply, that. 

She didn’t want you to know that her heart broke in two. The words hit her like a ton of bricks, sadness washing over her knowing her perfect best friend was taken. Taken and stolen from her now that you had a boyfriend. Ellie wanted to be the person you were taken by, but she’d never admit that, especially not to you.

It was silly, she knew she’d never get a shot with you or even a chance, but here she is, sad over you getting a boyfriend. Which was inevitable, wasn’t it? It was like the earth was mocking her and playing some huge prank on her.

“Is that it? I don’t know… You just seem so off since I told you about it,” you pouted, puffing your cheeks. You were being playful, but also serious with your tone. Ellie could tell. She could always read you, like an open book.  

Ellie eagerly nodded, not wanting to infringe on your happiness. Even if she loved you, your feelings always came first. It would be selfish of her to be upset. 

So she bit back those feelings, as always, and pushed a reassuring smile on her face. “Yes that’s… it. I promise.” She grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently to try and reassure you.

Your hand squeezed hers back, leaning over from your seat to lean your head against her broad shoulder. The way you comfortably rested your head on Ellie had her breath hitching for a moment, the smell of your perfume filled her nostrils, and the warmth of your hand was so comforting. 

“Thank you for looking out for me though, El,” you muttered, nuzzling yourself more into Ellie’s shoulder. 

You always enjoyed being close, and physical with Ellie. It was one of your favorite aspects of your friendship. Sometimes you’d wonder why no other person made you feel the way Ellie does. Somehow, you chalked up how you felt for Ellie as nothing more than a friendship. Despite the numerous times you or Ellie had been asked, you’re nothing more than friends.

Feeling you nuzzle more into her shoulder, she peered down, despite you being in a relationship now she couldn’t love you any less. Ellie felt her face grow warm, she knew she was staring but you looked so pretty in the dim light of the car, your hair sprawled on her shoulder and face nuzzled into her shoulder.

Ellie leaned down, inhaling the scent of her hair and pressing a sweet kiss to your head. She didn’t miss the muffled giggle from you, and she smiled, her hand squeezing yours once again. It was a habit of hers. 

“Always, pretty.”

V. Smoke It Away —

There were always points in your and Ellie's relationship that crossed the line, many, many times. Even due to just how touchy the two of you were. Always cuddling, holding hands, and hugging. It was things friends did, but it always felt like there was more between you two.

Ellie sighed, her tattooed arm gripping the pillow in frustration. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? Why did she have to be so hopelessly in love with her best friend? These were questions that often crossed her mind, especially now you had a boyfriend named… What was his name again? Derek? Micheal?

Ellie, in all honesty, didn’t care. She would find herself drifting off when you’d bring anything about your boyfriend up. She wanted to be happy for you, and she was; but the more you talked about him and spent time with him the distance grew. Ellie didn’t like that. Distance between the two of you isn’t something she’s used to, so when she saw you texting her less, not replying to her spam of Instagram reels, and just less of you. It made it all worse.

She felt almost hollow, laying on her bed, messy auburn hair sprawled across the pillow. She felt her heart break just like the time in her car when you’d first broken the news. Ellie hadn’t yet noticed her eyes watering, the tears building up and pouring out, dampening her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them, the effort almost pointless with more and more tears breaking the floodgates. 

The walls she worked so hard building up came crumbling down, and Ellie let herself finally feel it. Previously, she was forcing herself to not cry. Almost like she wasn’t allowed to feel heartbroken over you being in love with someone else, but was she? It felt selfish in a way, but now you were distancing yourself.

It felt like a punch in the gut, she sobbed harder, nails digging into the sheerness of her pillowcase. She sniffled, finding it harder to breathe because of how hard she was crying. She’d never felt such an overwhelming feeling. She hated it.

Ellie’s love for you was a powerful all-consuming force. It filled her heart to the brim, leaving little room for anyone else. But then the heartbeat and sadness you’d somehow brought into her life hit her like a tidal wave, overpowering everything else she felt. She knew it wasn’t you who was responsible for this pain, but her cowardice for not revealing her feelings to you weighed heavily on her shoulders. She was haunted by the what-ifs and the could-have-beens, wondering if things would have been different if only she had found the courage to speak up.

Maybe you didn’t realize the amount of affection Ellie truly held for you. Ellie knew you were oblivious to her feelings, she always tried to hide them even with how close your relationship was. Boundaries were in place, at least she thought and she’d never tried anything with you or crossed them, because Ellie genuinely loves you. 

Ellie sat up from her tear-stained pillow and wiped the remaining tears with her sleeve. “Fuck this… I need to smoke,” she mumbled to herself. Her voice sounded hoarse from her crying. Ellie rubbed at her eyes, the skin puffy and red, and her previous tears also accompanied the congestion in her nose. 

Opening the little drawer on the side table, Ellie pulled out her pre-rolls and lighter. She mentally thanked herself for preparing a few for times like these. She brought the end to her lips, flickering the lighter to light the other side. She inhaled it, the smoke filling her lungs, helping numb her emotions.

She breathed out the smoke, the room growing foggy from it. Ellie brought it back to her lips, taking another drag, then another, and another before she dabbled the end of the finished preroll into her star-shaped ashtray. 

The weed made her feel giddy and light, but she sat there on her bed, its effects washing over her, and her thoughts turned to you. She felt a longing for you, a sense of comfort and familiarity, as the thought of you was like a warm embrace from home. Her heart ached for you, even after everything Ellie missed your presence in your life. 

It didn’t help when she caught eye of the friendship bracelet clad on her wrist, yet another reminder of you. Ellie pitifully frowned, using her free hand not occupied holding the pre-roll, to slide it off her wrist. She meekly clutched it in her hand, tossing it onto her bedside table.

A buzz sounding from her phone tore her from her antics. She hummed and grabbed the device, the screen lighting up with a notification, it was from you.

You: ‘Hey Els, sorry for not replying to these till now. Is it okay if I come over?’

Ellie’s breath hitched reading the message, but without thinking she clicked on it and began to reply. The weed had lowered her inhibitions, making it easier for her to give in to her true feelings. Despite the tears that had streaked her face less than an hour ago, Ellie couldn’t deny seeing you. She found herself missing you more with every passing minute. 

Ellie: ‘Yeah, come whenever. See you soon :)’ 

Ellie let out a soft sigh as she turned her phone off, throwing it on her bed and laying back. She closed her eyes, the silence in her room seemed to echo the hollowness in her chest, and she found herself staring at the ceiling as her thoughts swirled over you. She tried to push the memories of you aside while she waited for you, the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, but they stubbornly refused to be silenced. 

Her brain or heart was somehow always testing her too long for you, and you finally would see her after a dreadfully long week. It felt incredibly long to her, never going so long without seeing the person who… made her the happiest. 

VI. Friends? Or More? —

You almost felt stupid for not listening to Ellie or reaching out about how your stupid boyfriend, just shy of one week, cheated on you by kissing some random girl at a party, you kicked him in the nuts and walked away. Somehow, you did an excellent job of swallowing down the tears in front of everyone and shakily calling your mom to come pick you up. 

Your mother answered immediately and was on her way to get you within minutes once you texted her the location. When she arrived, she found you in a state of despair and self-pity. Following the party, you locked yourself away from the world, wallowing in your stupidity and pain of the entire situation.

The universe seemed to taunt you with every attempt you made to move on from Ellie as if it was trying to send you a sign that you should just confess your feelings to her. You had tried to find happiness in your current relationship, and when your boyfriend asked you out, it caught you off guard, but you accepted nonetheless. 

You cried over being cheated on but didn’t feel sad over your ex-boyfriend. You were lying in your bed, covers swallowing you up, and self-pity absorbing all your being. Usually, you were a bubbly person, full of energy, and always reaching out to your friends, but not for the past week. You’ve been radio silent, even with Ellie whom you never went thing long without seeing or texting. You pouted to yourself, feeling bad for leaving Ellie in the dark for so long. Lifting out of your cave of blankets, you reached over to your nightstand and texted Ellie asking if you could come over. 

When Ellie quickly replied and agreed to meet up, your heart leapt in your chest, almost infusing you with a sudden burst of energy through your veins. You couldn’t wait to see the person you love the most in the world, Ellie. You kept it in the back of your mind as you dressed it had been a foolish decision to try dating a man, and the very thought of romantic interactions made your stomach churn with repugnance. It was never worth accepting his offer, to begin with, then he goes and cheats on you.

The entire situation seemed almost comical as you developed deeper into your thoughts, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at your attempts to enthusiastically tell Ellie about your relationship. The truth was, your feelings for her had been eating away at you the entire time, plaguing your mind and every thought. You gave a shake of your head in an attempt to dispel the tingling sensation that coursed through your body when you thought about her. 

Ellie had always been your closest, dearest friend, and you over time fell in love with her. It was hard not to, she was so kind to you and treated you like a person. She was the most genuine person you’d ever known. You yelled down to your mom you were going to Ellie’s, throwing on a coat in an attempt to keep yourself warm and shielded from the cold and making your way out the front door.

Within seconds, you were over to Ellie’s, her living next door so convenient. You raised your hand, knocking softly but loud enough for Ellie or Joel to hear. It was only seconds after you knocked, the door opened and you saw Joel standing there. 

He smiled widely at you, “Hey Kiddo! Been a while seen I’ve seen you, Ellie is in her room. Come in it’s freezing.” 

You returned his smile, walking in through the door to escape the cold. Joel closed the door softly behind you. “Yeah, it’s great to see you too! I’m going to go see Ellie,” you replied, a polite smile still etched on your face. 

He nodded, walking back to the living room to the sofa. You made your way upstairs, gulping as you made your way up the stairs, your stomach doing somersaults, your right hand clutching the wooden railing. You never felt so nervous to see Ellie, but having to explain… everything and potentially confess to her crossed your mind. So you were in a pickle. 

When you reached Ellie’s room, you knocked waiting for her to signal it was okay to proceed inside. “Come in!” She yelled, it was muffled by the door.

You braced yourself before turning the doorknob and entering her room. When you saw her figure, sitting on her bed with her grey sweatshirt, eyes red and blotchy, the room smelly of weed: your heartbeat sped up. You closed the door and quickly made it over to her, taking a seat only inches apart.

“Hey… So I’m sorry about being kind of distant this week,” you muttered, the guilt you felt making it too hard to make eye contact. 

Ellie fiddled with her fingers, her leg bouncing with anxiety. “Kind of distant…?” Ellie huffed, not bringing herself to look at you either knowing she’d fold at the sight of you. Her tone came off harsher than she intended. She bit her lip, thoughts going millions a minute after she said that. 

You almost felt your mouth go dry, but you understood why you never did this to Ellie, not in all the years you’d known each other. So the guilt continued to reside in your every being, your hands felt clammy as they lay by your side. You bit your lip, shaking your head, “I’m so sorry- Ellie please look at me,” you pleaded, your hand reaching out to grasp hers. “Let me explain.”

Ellie’s hand grabbed yours, squeezing it and finally looking up. Her usually brightly green eyes were duller looking, which made you frown. “I’m sorry for my tone, sweetheart. Didn’t mean it, just grouchy your douchy boyfriend stole you,” she whispered.

You chuckled at the mention, which had Ellie opening her mouth an ‘o’ shape, surprised you didn’t already bite back at her remark about your boyfriend. “Speaking of, he cheated on me, and turns out men aren’t for me. I disappeared because I was wallowing in self-despair,” casually you shrugged it all off as if it weren’t a big deal. Your whole demeanor seemed nonchalant. A smile was tugged stupidly on your face, your hand squeezing Ellie’s back. 

Her eyes see red upon hearing the mention of him cheating on such an amazing person like you, but then again… Now you’re single and he’s not in the picture. Relief flooded over her, the weed accompanying that feeling. “Wait… He cheated on you and you don’t like guys?” Her eyebrow quirked, somehow she needed you to confirm it again.

“Yep…” you purr, scooting closer to Ellie, your thighs now touching. “I like someone else.” Your other hand reached over and grasped her face, forcing Ellie to maintain eye contact with you. Your thumb trailed over the numerous freckles littered upon her cheek, a sly grin on your face as you moved your face closer to Ellie’s. “I like you, Ellie.”

Her pink tongue ran over her lips quickly, she blinked a few times, not believing what she was hearing. “W-what…” she uttered, disbelief written on her face. “You- Sweetheart, like me? I must be dreaming, I swear…” 

“Nope, you aren’t, Ellie…” you rasped, your thumb tickling her skin. Even with her eyes all red, and her hair thrown in her usual half-up bun, she looked so pretty. Without thinking your lips fell onto hers, only for what felt like seconds before you pulled away. “Fuck- I just confessed and kissed you, El. I’m sorry-” 

Your worries were swallowed by Ellie’s lips on yours, she hungrily kissed you again, your lips swallowing the tiny moan she let out. As you kissed her, you could taste a distinct tang of weed on her tongue. Her hand lets go of yours, her fingers gripping your sides. The kiss was wet and intense, fueled by a sense of urgency and longing. Both of you are feeling the weight of the week-long separation. 

You pulled back briefly in need of air as you were caught off guard by the kisses. “Ellie, I’ve wanted to ruin our friendship for who knows how long…” you panted, your eyes glued to hers. 

She felt jittery, your hand now free from hers, comfortably grasping her side, your hand going up and down her side. It was like the weed heightened everything she was feeling, her pupils were blown out as she took her breaths of air. 

She shook her head, tongue once again darting out to wet her lips. “You’ve… wanted to ruin our friendship? God, I’ve wanted to kiss you… I felt like some stupid lesbian yearning over her best friend.” She sighed, shaking her slightly at her obliviousness to your feelings for her. 

You giggled, the sound making her smile harder. She missed you… and missed that sound escaping your lips. She wished she could mentally take a picture of you, the way you captivated her was like nothing else. You were like an angel, somehow, that blessed the earth with your beauty and kindness. 

“Glad we both feel the same way, now shut up, and kiss me, Els,” you playfully tugged her forward and pressed your lips against hers. The desire, and need for each other are overly apparent.

She nodded her head eagerly into the kiss, her lips eagerly pressing back. Your tongue swiped against her lower lip, the sensation driving her wild. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, you were an entirely new experience for the girl. 

An experience like this she’d imagined more times than she could count on her hand, but one that was happening. She still couldn’t believe it. 

She opened her mouth, realizing you wanted excess inside. Feeling your tongue against hers made Ellie let out another breathy moan, your tongues messily sliding against one another. You took the opportunity to suck on Ellie’s tongue, the sensation going straight to her core, her grip tightening on your hips. 

The grip she held on you only furthered fueled your actions, you went back to greedily kissing her, almost sucking the life out of the poor girl from just kissing. 

The pair of you separated, chests rising and falling, small huffs escaping your lips. You and Ellie stared at one another, a stupid grin on both of your faces. Ellie’s once dull eyes were dilated, focused, and glistened with a spark of something else. 

“Ellie,” you grinned, “Would you… Are you okay with me going further than just kissing? If not that’s okay… just really want to make you feel good.” Your own eyes twinkled, the same sparkles appearing in Ellie’s like your own. 

“Yes… Absolutely. Anything you want I’ll do, just please…” She gripped your hips, the begging having more of an effect on you than you’d think.

“I’m glad you want it just as much as I do. Okay lay back on your bed for me,” you breathed out. She obeyed, immediately getting onto her back as you instructed.

You crawled over to her, your gaze fixed on the sight before you - Ellie lying back, eyes begging for something… anything, her hands pathetically gripping the sides of her bed. It surely was a sight. Her whole demeanor leaked of neediness, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she patiently waited for you. She looked absolutely delicious, ready to be eaten up. 

Of course, you were starving for a taste. You tugged at her sweatpants, signaling to her you wanted them off. She nodded eagerly, you discarded the piece of clothing and threw it behind you without a care in the world. 

Ellie was sprawled beneath you, her body now clad in only her boxers and a sweatshirt. You wanted to savor this moment, engrave it in your memory, to finally show Ellie how you truly felt for her. You wanted to make her feel so good she’d see stars, the same ones she excitedly points out to you. This was a special moment for you, considering how long you’ve yearned to touch her this way.

You moved to sit between her legs, grabbing at the flesh of her thighs that was decorated with various freckles and moles. The feeling of your hands on her skin made Ellie tremble, her green eyes closed in bliss. Until they fluttered open, her head snapping to look at the unexpected sensation now pressing between her legs.

The sensation was coming from your knee pressed against her clothed pussy, you rubbed it back and forth, your eyes never peeling from Ellie’s face to watch how she’d react. Her mouth dropped open, hands dropping to the sheets to ground herself. You applied a little more pressure, slowly going faster and then slow.

Ellie’s eyes looked glossed over, almost like glass. “Please… do something,” she whined, hips lifting to rub against your thigh herself. 

This had you halting her hips immediately, Ellie pouted at the action. If she wanted to do the work, then she could. You backed away, retracting your knee from against her, Ellie’s pout growing wider. The distance you created displeased her, she wanted you as close as possible.

“Ellie, I want you to listen to me and follow my instructions. I want you to straddle my thigh and ride it for me. Do you think you can do that for me?” You batted your eyelashes at her, your lower hand slowly gliding from the lower part of her leg to the inner part of her thigh. 

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every touch of your skin against hers sending another wave of warmth over her. She nodded her head, too eager to form words yet. “Yes, I can.” 

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt the eagerness and desperation radiating off Ellie. She shifted her body back, no longer laying down, and created space for you to lean back against her pillows. You settled yourself against her many pillows and stuffed animals, spreading your thigh to provide a space for her to sit. Faintly, you tapped your thigh, signaling to her what to do.

Ellie bit her lower lip, teeth nibbling into her soft lips. She crawled over to you, sitting herself comfortably on your thigh. When she finally sat herself down, underwear still on, she felt her face grow hot. “Should I.. uh… keep this on?” Ellie avoided eye contact with you, finding it too embarrassing due to the position and how new this all was.

This was not something you would let slide, not for a minute. You grasped under her chin, lifting her forest green eyes to meet yours. You clicked your tongue, shaking your head. “Ellie, I never said to take them off, did I?” You pressed her, leaning forward to tug at her sweatshirt. “This though? Off.”

Ellie listened, taking the hoodie off and throwing it into the abyss of her room. She looked at you again, waiting for further instructions.

“Waiting for more instructions from me? Good girl, Els.” 

The nickname sounding velvety off your tongue, Ellie subconsciously moved against your thigh, the rough material of your pants making the perfect friction for her pussy. She moaned, a breathy whiny moan slivering out of her pretty lips, her hands desperately gripping your shoulders, dull nails leaving crescent patterns in their wake from how hard she was digging. 

She moved her hips back and forth, wanting—no—needing more friction. “Yes, please let me keep going,” she whined, eyes skewing shut, and holding onto you for dear life. 

 “I’m not stopping you,” you leaned closer, your lips mere inches from her ear, “Make yourself feel good.” Before pulling away you pressed a kiss to the shell of it, the action making Ellie’s breath hitch. 

Ellie frantically began moving her hips, her underwear growing damper, the friction gliding perfectly with her clit. She snapped her head back, her boobs moving with the frequency of her hips. Your hand moved forward, grabbing at her breasts, your lips sucking at her nipples. You nibbled and sucked, leaving marks on the flesh—to claim her as yours.

Ellie sighed, loving the harsh love bites you were littering across her chest. Ellie moved one hand to grip your waist, the other steadied on your shoulder. She tried moving faster, the friction from her underwear no longer enough for her. She needed more.

“This not enough for you?” You quipped, noticing her once fast movements suddenly slowing little by little. 

Ellie pathetically shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke, her face begging for more. “No, I need more. Please… Can you touch me without these on? Can’t feel anything…” 

You pretended to debate and think about your answer but nodded. “Yes, lay down,” you instructed. You massaged her sides, fingertips dipping her sides playfully as she scooted off you. Her legs were shaky, making you laugh.

Ellie slid off next to you, rolling her eyes at you laughing at her. The sensations flowing through her body and straight to her core were the cause of no one other than… you. Without a word, she removed the last layer of clothing still clad to her body. Her underwear. 

She shimmed them off, leaving her fully bare and exposed, her wet pussy now on full display for you to see. Your mouth began salivating at the sight, her pussy already so sensitive and puffy from just dry humping. You returned to your original position, Ellie lying down, you hovering over her, in between her thighs. 

Your hands pressed firmly, grabbing at the fat of her thigh, your dainty nails ever so gently scraping the surface of her delicate skin. Your face inched closer to her core, and you pressed a gentle kiss along her thighs, making your way close to where she wanted. In your wake, you left more love bites, and little bruises making sure to leave as many as you could.

You craved to express your devotion and admiration for Ellie in the most profound way possible, and this was your way of doing so. As you worship her body, taking the time to adore and cherish every part of her body, every little nook and cranny. Finally, you pressed a tender kiss to her clit, Ellie’s hand flying instinctively to grip a fistful of your hair. She let out a groan, one deep within her throat, too overwhelmed by the sensation and her pussy pulsing for attention. 

With your tongue, you licked from her clit and down and greedily sucked away at the wetness. The taste of her was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, as you slurped away at her juices, Ellie tried to squeeze her legs shut, the sensations from your tongue almost too much for her. Your grip tightened on her legs, refraining her legs from closing around your head.

“My god, El… You taste amazing,” you groaned into her heat, the vibration adding an extra layer of sensitivity to the mix.

“Please! I am so close… Oh fuck-” Ellie shuddered, her mouth agape and tiny whines leaving, hips moving against your mouth desperately. Her forehead crinkled, sweat drops forming as she got closer and closer to her sweet release.

Her stomach was twisting in knots, your tongue relentless and not stopping as you sucked on her clit like it was your favorite piece of candy. Ellie’s wetness was leaking out from her hole; to help further push her over the edge, you pushed two of your fingers inside. An obscene wet sound came from it, just showcasing how wet Ellie was. You pumped your digits a few times, Ellie’s hold tightening even more.

The coil within her stomach snapped when she felt you curl and pump your fingers in, then out. Alongside the nonstop stimulation of your tongue working itself to get a drop out of her. Ellie whined, riding out her release on your face, your slender fingers still curled inside before slipping them out. You eased them out with a squelch, dragging them up to swipe through Ellie’s folds.

Lazily, you cleaned up her, not wasting a single drop of her orgasm. Your tongue lapping up her juices as if your life depended on it. Her grip loosened on your hair, Ellie’s chest rising and falling, trying to recover from her high. You sweetly kissed Ellie’s clit one more time, pulling away and kissing up her stomach.

“How did that feel?” You glanced at her, noticing her body trembling from the release. “I hope it felt okay, and… I really do mean what I said, Els.”

She lifted her head, eyes still shut, but snapping open when she heard you say those words. “I know, and it felt amazing… Are you kidding?” Ellie chuckled, a dazed smile on her lips. “I meant what I said too.” 

You felt yourself instantly melt hearing her say that, you laid your head on her stomach, finding comfort in listening to Ellie’s breathing. You peered at her from that position, heart racing a million miles a minute. “I love you, Ellie. I’m in love with you.”

She grinned harder, her hand reaching to smooth out some loose hairs at the top of your head. “And, I’m in love with you. You’re truly my dearest friend.” 

“Friend? You know we’re more than that now… Way past being just friends, Ellie,” you snorted. You leaned up to kiss her on the lips, pecking them softly, before pulling away to rest your head against her chest. 

Your eyes trailed off to the side, catching sight of the charmed matching bracelet you and Ellie shared, promising to never take it off, you clicked your tongue and narrowed your eyes teasingly. “Really, El? Took off the bracelet?”

She snapped out of her blissful trance, cheeks warming that you’d noticed. She’d completely forgotten she took off the bracelet in the mess of her feelings. You’re an observant person, so of course, you’d pick up on something like that. “Fuck, sweetheart. Smoked a little and got too… into my feelings.”

You reached over, and with little effort grabbed the bracelet. Guilt twanging your heart for making Ellie so upset, you sat up again, grasping Ellie’s wrist delicately, and sliding the bracelet back on. “Not a big deal, now, never take it off,” you pouted. Fingers tapping her wrist, dancing over the smooth surface.

Ellie’s lips curled into a small grin, hands enveloping around your waist, tugging you so you were on top of her. “Never,” she whispered, voice oh, so promising, squeezing your hips in reassurance.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

[rueclfer]

Can I request a best friends brother touya plssss :)

Ur loser Touya who, canon to your fics, writes in a diary journal is so good and needs a comeback 😭💗

Okay thank you byyyyyeee :P

god i love todosiblings tomfoolery in touya fics!!!! ily anon thank u for loving this loser as much as i do

open up the door // touya todoroki

“Knock knock.” The voice interrupts yours and Fuyumi’s chatter from the other side of her bedroom door.

“What?” Fuyumi calls out, cueing Touya to poke his head through the cracked door, eyes meeting her before your own, in which you quickly darted away. “Can we help you?”

“Yeah, you can actually.” He returns the tone, fully swinging the door open, leaning against the frame. “I hear you losers giggling and shit from all the way down the hall. Don’t you think you two should shut up and go to sleep?”

You look him up and down, eyeing the stretched out flannel pajama pants hanging low on his hips and distressed band tee over his lanky frame. The glossy sheen over his eyes and the state of his hair made it apparent that he had just rolled out of bed, woken up from yours and Fuyumi’s night time antics and gossip.

“It’s barely 12am on a Friday night, Touya.” You cock your eyebrow at him. “Nothing more important to do than to bother us?”

“Tell me, Y/N, what exactly am I interrupting?” He walks into the room, being careful to step over the scattered containers of various beads, rolls of string, and a couple pairs haphazardly throw scissors laying across the floor. “Friendship bracelets? Are you guys 12?” 

You were laying on the floor on your stomach as he approached you and stepped over you with a leg on each side. Touya leans down and looks past your head to see the unfinished bracelet in your hands.

“Whatcha spelling out, huh?” 

“Fuck off.” You huff, slapping his calf to shoo him away.

“Leave us alone” Fuyumi groans. “We’re gonna go to sleep right now, okay?”

“Sleep, don’t sleep, I don’t give a fuck. Just be quiet. Especially you, loudmouth.” He flicks the back of your head before stepping over you towards the door, clicking it behind him.

You and Fuyumi meet each other’s eyes before simultaneously letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Sorry, you know how he is.” Fuyumi huffs. “He’s so annoying sometimes.”

You had a long standing relationship with the Todoroki family. Your friendship with Fuyumi flourished in middle school when you had accidentally snapped her glasses in half during gym class. Luckily, for you two, you were a wizard with duct tape which had not only effectively fixed her frames, but made you two inseparable since. 

“Sometimes?” You scoff, beginning to shove the craft supplies to the side, making room for your floor mattress. “I was seriously planning on marrying into the family one way or another, but you gave me some shit options, Fuy. Introduce me to a cousin or something.

“Settle for him to be with me forever.” She sighs dramatically and shoots you a pout. “If you really loved me, you would.”

Another thing that lingered since you two were kids- the concept of setting you up with her older brother. The idea had always seemed so perfect for her. There you were, someone who got along with the family, the sister she never had, and most importantly, was “good enough” for her brother, who notoriously had a shitty dating history. However, Fuyumi’s fantasy quickly crumbled midway through high school, when Touya suddenly decided that he was too good for anyone- especially his little sister’s best friend.

“Touya’s a fucking prick, Fuy. I really do want to beat the fuck out of him, no joke, and I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual.”

“Watch it!” She scolds you. “He’s not that bad, or at least not as bad as he used to be.”

“Not as bad? ‘Hey ugly’ is his go-to greeting for me. He acts like my presence is the most inconveniencing thing ever. If we're alone in the same room, he'll avoid me like the plague and then once there's anyone else around, suddenly he wants to annoy me at any given chance.”

“He’s going through a life crisis or something. Be nice.” She warns. “Or else I’ll kick both of your asses. Wake me if you’re up before me, okay? But only if it’s after 10am.” She yawns. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah whatever, g'night." You say and roll your eyes, knowing that you will definitely not be waking her up.

Now with the lights off and you two in your respective beds, all you could do is look up at the glow in the dark stars plastered to the ceiling, and think back on all of your interactions with Touya from the moment you met him to now- from your raging infatuation with him when you first met as children to the growing resentment and annoyance into your late teens.

-

The glaring sunbeam peaking through the curtains hit you right in the eye, effectively waking you up from your deep sleep. Your phone reads 6:54AM. You mentally groaned to yourself before rolling out of your mattress, exiting the dark bedroom with a soft click of the door behind you. On an early Saturday morning like this, the Todoroki household had its rare moments of silent solitude

Padding your way to the bathroom, you were still in a drowsy state, eyes lidded, and the heaviness of a deep sleep weighing on your shoulders. Once the door shuts behind you, you lean against the kitchen sink and rub the sleepiness from your eyes,

"The fuck, Y/N?" The familiar voice snaps you awake. Your vision focuses on the figure standing near the shower. "You pervert, what do you think you're doing?" He exclaims with a growing amused smile.

"Jesus, Touya!" You exclaim, taking a step back against the door. "Ever use a fucking lock before?" You lowly huff, trying to keep your volume down.

"Why would I when no one's ever up this early? Don't you walk around with your eyes open?"

"I just woke up like two seconds ago." You groan. "Why are you just hanging out in the bathroom?"

"Well I was going to shower. Unless you're here to 'beat the fuck out of me?'" He leans against the wall, arms crossed.

"Listening in on our conversation? Who's the pervert now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Involuntarily, with your loud mouth and all." He takes a step closer, almost closing the gap and leaving just mere inches of space between you two. "Sounds like you don't like me very much, huh? What happened to that little crush in middle school?" He kept his voice low.

"Fizzled out a long time ago when you started thinking you were too cool for everyone." You press your finger against the middle of his chest. "You're full of yourself, stuck up, infuriating to be around, and you have no reason to not like me when we've known each other for damn near a decade. You're such a dick for no reason."

"You done?" His amused smile grew even wider, making the fury in your stomach grow stronger. "Because I don't have to explain shit to you."

You rub your face in your hands in frustration. "You know what you act like? A 13 year old who thinks being mean to his crush makes them like you back." You cross your arms, almost tip-toeing your way closer to his face. "That must be it, huh? Can't navigate your feelings?"

Touya bit the inside of his cheek.

Before he could retaliate with another venom filled comment, someone on the other side of the door was knocking. Had you two been so loud this early in the morning?

"Y/N?" You recognized the groggy voice. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

You froze and quickly realized how the situation looked- you and Touya almost pressed up against each other in the bathroom. Alone. After you had just told her all about your disdain for her brother the night before.

You locked your eyes with him. He opened his mouth, ready to respond in your place, in which you quickly slammed your hand over his mouth, and the other on his shoulder. You start pushing him back towards the shower.

"Yeah! I'm in here, give me a second!" You called out over your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He mouths, taking a step into the shower before he could trip over the ledge.

"Shut up." You whisper back, closing the shower curtain. "Stay." You warn.

You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, silently hoping Fuyumi doesn't notice your flushed cheeks.

"Sorry I was getting ready to shower. Was I being too loud?" You open the door to see her sleepy state of lidded eyes and tousled hair.

"No." She yawns. "I got a migraine, I just need my medication."

You step aside for her to dig through the medicine cabinet for a moment, sending subtle glances to the shower every now and then, hoping Touya doesn't decide to make an appearance.

"By the way," She mumbles. "I was serious about last night. Be nice to Touya, okay? You know he kinda has a crush on you."

"What?" You exclaim a bit too loudly, slapping your hand over your mouth.

She shushes you, putting her finger over her mouth. "You'll wake him. He's a light sleeper." She warns. "But yeah, Natsuo read his diary last week and told me. I think I kinda knew though, since he's so emotionally constipated." She softly chuckles, lightly shaking the migraine medication into her palm.

"What the fuck, Fuyumi?" Your mouth hung open. "Diary? You tell me this now?"

"Well I didn't realize how much you disliked him." She smiles. "Just thought you should know. We'll talk more later, though. I'm going back to sleep. Think about it, and have a good shower."

"Okay.. thanks." You mumble, closing the door behind her.

If you really wanted to, you could let yourself feel mortified for Touya and make an agreement to pretend like that conversation didn't just happen, but you could feel the disgusting pride and ego growing larger by the second as you digested this new information.

Touya rips the shower curtain to the side, stepping out of the shower with a new layer of blush dusted over his cheeks and his wide eyes filled with embarrassment.

"Shut up." He huffs, running a hand through his hair.

"Didn't say anything." You shrug, pressing your lips together to suppress a smirk.

"Keep it that way, then."

He begins to make his way towards the door, in which you promptly block with your body.

"Y/N. Move." He demands, one hand on the handle and the other pressed against the door next to your head.

"Guess I got you figured out after all. You write about me in your diary often?" Your let your smirk grow. "You'd have better luck if you were nicer to your crush, don't you think?"

You could see that pompous facade of his crumble by the second with the way he bit down on his lower lip, cheeks growing into a deeper shade of red, and eyes darting away to avoid your own.

"It's a fucking journal. Not a diary. Let me out. I'm going to go smother that fucking brat with his own pillow."

"Why don't we unpack this here, instead?" You lean back onto the door, preventing him from pulling it open. "If you like me so much, why are you such a dick?"

A beat of silence passes as he releases a long sigh.

"I-" He starts, staring down at you with a sheepish expression. "don't mean to be an asshole. I just get nervous, okay?" His voice falters towards the end.

You cock an eyebrow at him. "Nervous? How does that make sense or justify anything?"

"Because I can't think straight whenever you're around. Which is all the fucking time."

You didn't think far enough ahead as to how you could navigate this. You questioned if this could even be considered a confession or where things would go between you two when you eventually let him out of the bathroom.

"We were fine when we were kids, though?"

"I didn't like you when we were kids." He huffs.

"So a few years ago? When you started acting like an ass?"

"I guess." He mutters. "Can you move over now?"

"I give you one chance." You cross your arms.

"Huh?"

"To apologize, confess and ask me out. Properly."

"Right now?" His eyes widened, mouth gaped open.

"Yup, or forever hold your peace and watch me get with one of your cousins or something."

"You'd actually go out with me?" He asks under his breath.

"Ask me and find out." You shrug.

He pressed his lips together, continuing to stare down at you with furrowed brows- of course you stared back in annoyance. You thought that he already had the easy way out, thanks to Fuyumi, so this hesitation only made you more anxious.

A voice in the back of your head had started pounding through the front. It was your 10 year old self. They're making your stomach twist in anticipation. They're making your heart race. They're making your hands clam up. They're hoping he'd do it.

But he wasn't.

"Okay, guess not then. I'm leaving." You suddenly blurt out, turning to grab the handle.

"Wait." He places his hand over the door frame, preventing it from pulling open. "Give me a fucking second okay? I feel like I can barely breathe."

He puts both hands on your shoulder, expelling a long breath of air to the side. You tense at the sudden physical contact, feeling the warmth of the palms of his hands melt into you.

"I'm sorry for being a dick to you. I'm sorry for not knowing how to act around you. I'm not sure I deserve it, but can you... give me a chance?" He spills out through clenched teeth, all in one breath.

His face was still flushed and expression was almost pained. You knew you backed him up in a corner but if he had this crush for a few years, was he ever planning on telling you?

"I know you had a crush on me when we first met as kids, and I know you definitely don't anymore, but if you want to give me a chance then I guess that would be.. cool." He sheepishly says, sucking in the inside of his cheek.

"You guess?" You cock your head to the side.

"You're fucking killing me, Y/N. That's seriously the best I can do at 7am right now." He deadpans. "Yes or no- before I start panicking."

You pause for a moment, taking in the weight of his hands on your shoulder and intense eye contact.

"I'll go out with you."

"Really?" His eyes widen, and grip tightening. "After everything? You will?"

You nod your head, slightly taken off guard by his surprise.

"Cool. Cool. Okay." He takes a step back, bringing his hands back to his side and shoving them in his pajama pants pocket, giving you space to take your exit. "Um. I'll keep you updated on that date then? When I figure it out?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Cool." You say, still standing idly.

"Cool." He responds, pressing his lips together in a tight line

"Don't make it weird, okay?" You huff. "I don't want to tell Fuy yet."

"No weirdness here." He awkwardly smiles, now fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Okay we're done here." You teasingly roll your eyes. "You're being weird, so I'm leaving. See you in a few hours, loser."

You two exchanged shy smiles and glances before you made your exit, letting out an audible breath of air after shutting the door behind you. Later that morning, after his shower and getting ready for the day, Touya would find a beaded bracelet hanging on his bedroom's door handle, reading "T O U Y A < 3" in which he slipped over his wrist and would glance down at all day, reminding himself not to fuck it up.

[roseykat]

TITLE: How they are when they eat you out

SUMMARY: OT8 blurb version of the title.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of orgasms, sex positions, again nothing too major.

TAGLIST: @xhakumeix

A/N: here is another spicy blurb/work of mine! Thank you everyone for engaging with my posts, messaging and following! I really appreciate y’all 😭💗 also side note again, I’ll spellcheck this when I get home!

BANG CHAN

Deliberately goes slow. He likes foreplay but also teasing you. Thrives off of feeling your legs shake around his head as he goes down on you. If you can’t handle the overbearing intensity of pleasure, he’ll snake his arms around your thighs, gripping and holding you there to ensure that you will take everything he gives you.

However, Chan is a firm reinforcer of edging and uses his mouth to achieve that. He’ll have you squirming and trembling every single time he brings you to the edge. Whenever you try and inch closer towards his tongue, he’ll pull away, leaving you frustrated and angry. But edging has a high purpose, and that’s to make you cum ten times harder than you usually would.

“I know how much you want to cum right now,” Chan says. “So lie back and let me get you there.”

-

MINHO

Eats pussy for sport and will make you cum as hard and as fast as possible and as many times as you’ll let him. He’ll tease when he wants but for the most part, he wants to watch you writhe and shake. Hearing you scream out his name is a phenomenon that he can never get over. Minho also likes eating you out in positions that will have you screaming and where you’re bound to cum - literally.

He will have your legs bent at your sides, tied up so you can’t move, and will eat you out for an hour or two, otherwise until you’re crying from how much pleasure you’re in. In those positions, there’s nowhere for you to go or move other than the surface of his hot tongue.

“Like cumming on my mouth don’t you?” Minho asks. “I’ll make you cum again, and again, and again - until you start to forget your name.”

-

CHANGBIN

Eats it like he means it. Will make you cum more than once with his mouth and won’t settle for anything less. He will have you in tears from how intense the orgasms are that he gives you. It’s a real contrast to how tender and nurturing he is when it comes to taking care of you afterwards. Nonetheless, Changbin will eat you out like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

He doesn’t stop unless you want him to. Sometimes you give him free rein which, in all honesty, is a terrible idea sometimes because Changbin will cease at nothing to make you cum so hard that you start seeing stars. What’s even better is because of his strength, it’s near to impossible to squirm away from his mouth, rendering you to cum hard regardless.

“Look how pretty you are when you cum,” Changbin sigh’s exasperatedly.

-

HYUNJIN

Is very attentive. Studies every reaction that he brings out of you as soon as his mouth is buried in between your legs. Hyunjin also has the tendency to overstimulate the shit out of you. Half of the time he doesn’t actually mean to. He just gets off on the change in pitch of your moans, how you sometimes go silent when you cum, or when you grip onto his hair as tight as you can.

His method of making you orgasm multiple times ensures that your legs will be shaking and your moans will fill the space around him. The only unfortunate thing for him when it comes to eating you out is that he can’t see your entire body, especially when you cum.

“You’re shaking baby,” Hyunjin points out. “Feels that good, huh?”

-

JISUNG

Is sloppy, but in the best way possible. He’s unfazed about how wet you are, how much of it gets on his face, if it’s on the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter - whatever. That’s applicable to every situation where he’s eating you out, even when Jisung feels lazy. In saying that, there are two sides to him, and he can go either way; he’ll either eat you out like he’s been deprived of it for months, or if he’s feeling lazy but still wants to go down on you, he’ll eat slowly.

If that’s the case, he will ask you to just sit on his face. It’s convenient for him to lie back and eat you out that way. Hell - he’ll even let you use his face to make yourself cum however many times you want. Jisung will say it so casually that it sometimes turns you on more. Despite him feeling lazy, that doesn’t mean to say that he isn’t into it - he is definitely into it.

“I’m horny as fuck,” Jisung says before smiling. “Sit on my face?”

-

FELIX

Going down on you is already a task that’s intimate enough as it is, but Felix’s entire aura seems to enhance that even further, to the point where you feel so good that it’s emotional. Almost every time - guaranteed - Felix will interlock his fingers with yours when his head is buried between your legs. He’ll kiss your inner thighs, softly on your clit, delicately sucking and licking to slowly build you up to a peak.

He analyses what you like so well that every time he goes down on you, he makes sure to follow that routine to achieve the same results if not better. It’s almost like one of his games to him, except the rewards are better in every aspect. Lix just wants to make sure you feel good.

“Can never get enough of you,” Felix says. “Wanna make you cum as much as you’ll let me.”

-

SEUNGMIN

Is a tease. Even during foreplay he’ll edge you with his mouth. He’ll never give you exactly what you want when you want it. If he’s going down on you, and you’re ready to cum, Seungmin will stop right before you start tipping over the edge just so he can fuck you in order to make you cum on his cock instead. Then again, if he feels generous, it’ll be his mouth that makes you cum, especially as a form of reward if you can go a day or two without being an absolute brat.

But that’s the side of Seungmin who likes to be dominant. There’s the other face of the coin where he can be very tender. In those instances when he is going down on you, expect to see a lot more affection from him. He won’t just focus solely on your clit, he’ll go slow, check in on you, and make you cum more than once because he’s also a gentleman.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” says Seungmin. “Nobody else can make you cum the way I do.”

-

JEONGIN

Knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to eating you out. Jeongin chooses to go slow whenever he does because of how attentive he is. He wants to make sure that each second his face is buried in between your legs that your body feels good. Every now and then it’s a bit frustrating because all you want to do is just cum as quickly as you can, so as you squirm or grip his hair to try and make him go faster, that’s when he’ll decide to intentionally tease you and go slow.

He likes to hold around your thighs, gently squeezing them to hold you firm around his head. The struggles you have when it comes to putting up with his tongue is next level. He has the technique to make you cum in under a minute minimum. He’s unassuming but he’s just that good at it.

“Can feel your legs shaking,” Jeongin says. “I want to feel them shake even more.”

[gyubakeries]

OT13 reaction to: their kid stealing an item from them.

a/n: was struck by random inspo while working on a request i got (i will be posting all requests IM SO SORRY FOR BEING SO LATE) but yeah!!! also credits to @sousydive for suggesting the bonus woozi reaction hahaha 💗 i also think i got a little carried away haha 😭 i hope you guys like it!

contents: seventeen x afab!reader , dad!seventeen , husband!seventeen , crack , fluff , woozi's pink underwear makes a guest appearance , seventeen and reader have kids , some members have a boy and some have a girl, some have both; i just chose at random , just a lot of cutesy vibes

seungcheol:

"babe, where's my rolex?" seungcheol calls out, and you hurriedly rush into the bedroom from the kitchen. "what do you mean where's your rolex? don't tell me you've misplaced it, choi seungcheol!" you hiss, panicked. the rolex was a gift to seungcheol from your parents after you got married, and besides the sentimental value, the price of it alone was enough to make anyone faint.

"i put it right where i put it every day!" seungcheol says defensively. "and i didn't wear it over the weekend either!"

just then, your toddler waddles into the room excitedly, giggling cutely. "mama, look! shiny!"

"baby, not now," you sigh, focused on figuring out where the watch could be.

"daddy! i'm like you now! look!" your child tries again, and seungcheol, always the weakest when it came to his kid, looked down, only to burst into laughter.

you look up at seungcheol, wondering what could be so funny when a rolex is missing. but a quick glance at your child has you rolling on the floor in laughter.

because there your adorable baby was, with a shiny rolex hanging off his wrist and a brighter smile etched on his face.

"do i look like daddy?" your son tilts his head, and you can only sigh in relief as seungcheol pulls your kid into a hug, carefully slipping the watch off his wrist.

"mama thinks you look even more handsome, baby," you tease.

"hey! not fair!" seungcheol pouts.

(your small family spends a morning filled with laughter, until seungcheol has to rush to work because he realizes he's already late to his meeting.)

jeonghan:

"shit! where is he?" jeonghan murmurs under his breath, crouching on the floor to duck under the bed.

"babe? what are you looking for?" you question, walking into your bedroom to find jeonghan crawling on all fours.

"ddoljjongie!" jeonghan sighs, exasperated. "i can't find him anywhere!"

"that's strange," you muse, eyebrows furrowed as you try to recollect where you'd last seen jeonghan's pet rock.

ddoljjongie wasn't just any boring rock, he was jeonghan's 'pet', one he adopted from your first date with him at the beach. the rock was quite precious, always tucked away safely on your dresser, or his study, but right now, it had just disappeared.

"dada! mom! look, i made new friends!" your daughter rushes into the room, practically vibrating with happiness.

temporarily giving up on his search for ddoljjong, jeonghan follows you and your daughter to the backyard.

your daughter leads you both to the couch on the patio, showing off a.... rock collection?

"ddoljjongie!" jeonghan exclaims. before he can get to his rock though, your daughter stops him.

"wait! jjong made new friends! this is momo, that's kkumie, and that's hulk!" your daughter says, the last rock being a pebble covered in green moss.

"don't take jjong away, dada," your daughter pouts. "he's having so much fun here!"

jeonghan gives in quickly, ruffling his baby girl's hair. "alright, ddoljjong can stay here. now come back inside, it's bedtime."

you smile at how cute your family is, and you're also surprised at how easily jeonghan parts with his pet rock.

(the surprise only lasts till when you see your husband sneak out, draw a face on another similar shaped rock, put it in ddoljjong's place, and then tip-toe back into the house after your daughter has fallen asleep.)

joshua:

"shua, you should play us something on your guitar!" seokmin suggests, and everyone cheers. all of joshua's 12 chaotic friends have gathered in your living room, along with their families, to celebrate mingyu and his wife's pregnancy.

joshua, ever the crowd-pleaser, gets up to fetch his guitar. you follow him to your bedroom, passing your son's bedroom on the way. seungkwan's daughter and wonwoo's twins are playing an intense game of charades, while your son is busy doing.... something.

before you can find out what he's doing, joshua's panicked whisper catches your attention.

"babe! where's my guitar pick?" he asks, and you're just as confused. joshua's guitar and all related equipment are always stored neatly in your bedroom. there's no reason for the guitar pick to go missing.

you enter your bedroom, looking in the drawers of your dresser to find the guitar pick, but in vain.

your search is cut short by the sound of loud cheers from the living room, and a soonyoung who looks close to tears appearing at your bedroom door.

"you guys have to see this."

soonyoung was known for his dramatic streak, but seeing the sight everyone was cooing at in your living room made you tear up a little bit too.

joshua seems equally affected, if the arm wrapped around your shoulders and the love-filled gaze directed at you is anything to go by.

there's your little boy, sitting in the center of all his uncles and aunts, clutching his toy guitar and joshua's guitar pick. he's strumming the strings to mimic the playing of the instrument. although the strings don't make a musical sound, your son's voice singing 'sunday morning' by maroon 5 is enough to make you shed some tears.

everyone watches him with a smile on their faces, and you feel your chest swell with pride as your son looks like the splitting image of joshua, his eyes and lips curved into the exact identical smile of your husband.

(later, minghao and seungcheol send you videos of your son's performance from various angles, and jihoon leaves the house with a promise of signing your son under his record label one day. you can only feel grateful and happy seeing joshua play 'sunday morning' on his real guitar as your son sings along with him.)

junhui:

"y/n? could you get my lemon gummies along with the popcorn?" junhui requests. it's a movie date night for the two of you, and your twins (one boy and one girl) are asleep in their bedroom.

"god, you and your love for sour things," you sigh, feigning annoyance. when you first met junhui at a frat party in college, you were weirdly drawn in by the fact that he could eat an entire lemon without, like, dying from how sour it is.

"you love it," he winks playfully, making you laugh as you retreat to the kitchen to make popcorn. once the packet is in the microwave, you open the pantry to find the lemon gummies junhui loves to snack on.

from his last visit to his hometown, he had brought back at least five packets, three of which had been finished over the span of a year.

but where were the remaining two?

"babe? did you finish all the gummies?" you call out, moving around the various snacks and items in your pantry, looking for the gummies.

junhui is quick to come in the kitchen. "i remember there were a couple of packets left..." he mumbles, helping you look for the snack.

as if on cue, a loud scream rings out, followed by giggles. you and your husband share a quick glance before rushing up the stairs to your kids' bedroom.

you're bursting into the room, heart beating rapidly at the thought of your children getting hurt, but the sight that greets you calms you down instantly.

your adorable kids are seated on the floor, your daughter giggling loudly, and your son's face scrunched up in disgust. between them lies the missing packets of lemon gummies.

"baba! look, we ate gummy but he spit it!" your daughter chirps, babbling excitedly, while your son is vigorously wiping at his tongue, trying to get the sour flavor off his tongue.

"our daughter is just like you," you tease junhui, and he can only smile. he joins the kids on the floor, and you pass him a glass of water for your son.

"babies, i told you not to touch the lemon gummies," jun says, gentle yet firm. "they're too sour for you."

"not for me! i like sour!" your daughter pipes up, but your son, after finishing the water, scowls.

"it's too sour, baba," he pouts. "tastes yucky."

"you're just a scaredy-cat," your daughter teases your son, sticking her tongue out at him.

junhui turns back to meet your gaze, giving you a smile so sweet and loving that it makes you melt.

(you, junhui, and your kids spend the rest of the night, cuddled up on your twins' too-small-for-4-people bed, eating caramel popcorn and strawberry candy. your life has never been sweeter.)

soonyoung:

a loud shriek wakes you up abruptly. you were dozing off on the couch on a lazy, sunday afternoon, hoping to catch up on some much needed sleep after staying up with your daughter the entire night to help her finish a project.

but judging from how horrified your husband sounds, you realize that there really isn't much scope to catch a break in a household with two, hyper-active kwons.

"love? what's up?" you ask, walking into your bedroom. you see soonyoung clutching his hair in despair, standing in the middle of your bedroom. what was once a neatly arranged room now looks like a hurricane named 'kwon soonyoung' just rampaged through it.

"tamtam."

"what about tamtam?" you ask.

"he's gone. tamtam is missing." soonyoung whispers frantically, looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit any moment now.

"he'll be around here somewhere," you try to placate him. "when did you last see him?"

"i know i brought him to the living room with me before we started on the family tree..." soonyoung mumbles, referring to the previous night, when you both stayed up with your daughter.

"let's go look there," you suggest, and soonyoung follows you, biting his lips in worry.

you look on the sofa, under the sofa, behind the sofa, even between the sofa cushions, but your search has been pointless.

until....

"wait, what's floopy doing here?" soonyoung asks, holding up your daughter's bunny plushie. if her father had an attachment to his tiger plushie, your daughter was impossibly glued to her bunny, floopy. it was extremely difficult to get her to do anything without floopy by her side, especially sleeping.

but if floopy was here, how was your daughter asleep upstairs?

soonyoung and you make your way to your daughter's bedroom, opening the door softly so as to not wake her up.

you tiptoe into the room first, smiling at how peaceful your daughter looked while she was sleeping. you peel back the blanket covering her gently, and sure enough, tamtam, soonyoung's beloved plushie, was cuddled up next to her, some of her drool dripping down to tamtam's poor face.

"too bad, soons. looks like she's taken over tamtam now," you whisper, only joking, but the look of pure sadness in soonyoung's eyes makes you laugh out loud, which in turn wakes your daughter up.

"daddy! look, tammie slept here today! we had the bestest sleepover," your daughter grins, ever the happy pill, just like her father.

"and you left floopy all alone in the living room," soonyoung pouts. "she's all upset and said she wouldn't talk to you, because you took tamtam with you."

your daughter's eyes widen immediately, and she's springing out of bed, chucking the tiger plushie in soonyoung's general direction and running over to the living room to reconcile with her precious floopy.

("you're a menace, soonyoung," you sigh. you had just managed to calm your daughter down after she began wailing because floopy wouldn't talk to her. soonyoung talking to her in a high-pitched voice, pretending to be the bunny plushie had managed to console your daughter.

"at least i provided a solution!" soonyoung says defensively, and you can only kiss his cheek because of how endearing he is.)

wonwoo:

"babe! breakfast is ready!" you call out, dishing out the last of the pancakes on a plate. you then open the fridge to grab the maple syrup, when you hear a loud crash in your bedroom.

"shit, wonwoo, are you okay?" you gasp, entering the bedroom to see wonwoo sitting on the floor, rubbing at his forehead, which had a red patch forming on it.

"can't see," he groans. "my glasses aren't here."

you rush to help him up and guide him to sit on the bed. you press your cold hands to his forehead, hoping to relieve some of the sting from the collision he had with the cupboard.

"that's strange," you mutter. "you always leave them on the bedside table. did you leave it in your study last night?"

"nope," he shakes his head. "i'm not that forgetful."

"i'll go check to be sure," you offer. "sit here, don't move. if you crash into my dresser and break the vase, you're a dead man, jeon wonwoo."

"okay okay," wonwoo nods. "please go check, i feel like my vision has been taken away from me."

you laugh at how helpless and silly your husband looks, sitting on the bed with a pout, his hair messy, and his forehead red.

"you're such an old, blind man," you tease.

"don't make me want to chase you around the house, y/n," wonwoo threatens playfully.

"you can't even see me, baby," you retort, and before wonwoo can reply, you're going off to the study to find his glasses.

just as you enter the study, you hear a loud crash coming from your son's room. you quickly hurry there, and it seems like your husband heard the crash too, because he's walking to the room with his hands held out in front of him to avoid any more accidents.

you open the door to find your son sitting in the same position you found wonwoo in not too long ago, rubbing at his forehead.

and, wait, is that wonwoo's glasses he's wearing?

"oh baby, what happened?" you coo, kneeling to the ground to gently pry the too big glasses slipping off your son's nose and handing it back to wonwoo.

"was wearing daddy's glasses to look like him, but i couldn't see anything, so i bumped into my cupboard," your son whines, and you can't believe you have two clumsy boys living in your house.

"you're just like your daddy, aren't you?" you laugh, and wonwoo chuckles as well. you sit down on the floor, pulling your son into your lap to fuss over him and make sure he's not seriously injured, and wonwoo joins you too.

"does anything else hurt, baby?" you ask, and your son shakes his head. "just have a boo-boo here, mommy," he says, pointing at his forehead.

you lean in to press a loud smooch to your son's forehead, pulling away to grin at him. "now your boo-boo will go away!"

"and what about my boo-boo?" wonwoo interrupts, and you can't help but laugh at how serious he looks.

"come here, you big baby."

(the rest of the morning is spent in both your boys arguing over who needs more cuddles from you. the stack of pancakes grow cold in the kitchen.)

jihoon:

"welcome hom- woah, what's got you in a rush?" you ask when your husband whizzes past you just as he returns home from work. you see him disappear into his studio, so you know he has a 'musical emergency.'

back from your dating days in college, jihoon had always been interested in producing music. although he didn't make a career out of it, he'd still write and compose songs in his free time.

at this point, you've lost track of how many songs jihoon has dedicated to you and your precious daughter. his family was his biggest inspiration, and you could really feel the genuine love and care he had for the most important girls in his life from his songs.

but today, there was something off about his production process.

"y/n, have you seen my headphones?" he asks you when you enter the studio.

"i swear i haven't touched them!" you raise your arms in surrender, reminded of how you had accidentally knocked a glass of water onto jihoon's headphones a few years back. ever since that day, you've made sure not to touch his music equipment, because you knew how precious they were to him.

"shit...." he mumbles worriedly. it wasn't like him to misplace his belongings, and no one really went into his studio if he hadn't invited or allowed them to.

just then, your daughter waddles into the room, a proud grin etched on her face.

"papa! i made you a song!"

jihoon, momentarily forgetting about his lost headphones to switch into girl-dad mode.

"can we hear it baby?" you ask encouragingly, and your daughter just gestures for you both to follow her.

jihoon and you trail behind your daughter, entering her bedroom to find an amusing sight. the mini pink, barbie piano and microphone set you bought for her was set up with a torch laying on the floor, which probably meant to imitate a spotlight.

on the bed was a toy laptop one of her friends had gifted her, and jihoon's headphones.

"used papa's special earmuffs to make a song!" your daughter claps, and all the tension in jihoon's body melts away in an instant. "mom, will you hold the spotlight please?"

you nod, silently gesturing at jihoon to record your daughter's performance. once her stage is set, she sits at the mini piano, positions the microphone near her mouth and starts playing her song.

it was endearing to see her look as serious as her father when he would play and sing his songs for you. the lyrics were mostly random sentences about unicorns and ice-cream, and the keys of the piano played discordant notes, but you'd never heard a more beautiful thing in your life before this.

(your daughter gets bored of performing after repeating 'twinkle twinkle little star' 5 times, so she runs away to watch cartoons, and jihoon finally stops recording. neither of you point out the happy tears that must've spilled out sometime during your daughter's rendition of 'old mcdonald had a farm' with extra animals like hippos and zebras. you can only wish the melody of your life remains this beautiful forever.)

(bonus, inspired by sousy. jihoon has a son in this:)

"y/n, has jihoon ever told you about his pink underwear?" mingyu giggles, like the menace he is.

"mingyu, have you told your wife about that horrendous bowl cut you had in high school? i have pictures i can show her right now." jihoon glares at his friend.

"pink underwear?" you laugh, amused. "i'm yet to hear about it."

"god, y/n, don't listen to him," jihoon groans, but the sound is drowned out by seokmin and soonyoung's ridiculously loud cackling. they point in the direction behind you, so you and jihoon turn around to see what they're laughing at.

sure enough, it's your son, running around the house like a madman with his father's infamous pink underwear atop his head.

"what?" jihoon gasps. he clearly remembers placing the underwear at the very back of his closet so no one would see it. how on earth did his son find it?

the answer comes in the form of a mischievously smirking jeonghan and joshua who emerge from your bedroom a few seconds later, fist-bumping each other.

yeah, jihoon has a bad headache now.

seokmin:

"lovie, have you seen my dodgers jersey?" seokmin asks, popping his head into the bathroom, where you were currently finishing up your skincare routine.

"it should be in your closet," you reply, applying sunscreen on your face.

"but it isn't," seokmin pouts, and that alarms you.

seokmin's doders jersey is one of his most prized possessions. he's even joked about being buried with it when he dies so he can continue being a fan in the afterlife. (you don't really encourage those jokes.)

if it isn't in his closet, where else would it be?

"i'll help you look for it," you offer, and the both of you nearly empty out your entire wardrobe to find the jersey, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"it's okay, we're getting late," seokmin smiles. "the guys will kill us if we're late. i'll just wear something else."

and with that, seokmin changes into another outfit, and you wonder how he's always so easy-going. if you weren't able to find your favorite shirt, you'd sulk about it till the time you found it.

the jersey is forgotten a while later. you busy yourself with packing a baby bag for your toddler, and seokmin had rushed to the convenience store when he realized that they hadn't bought any ice-cream.

you're grabbing some extra clothes for your daughter, when you realize that the house has been awfully quiet.

where's your daughter?

you call out her name, but there isn't any response that follows, and it gets you worried.

you look around the house just to be sure your daughter isn't playing hide-and-seek with you again. (she hid from you the entire day once. anything was possible.)

finally, you think of going out to the backyard to check if your daughter was there, and surprisingly, you're met with a crying seokmin.

"wha- when did you let yourself in? why are you crying, lovie?" you ask, and he sniffles.

"i forgot the keys, and i thought you'd be busy, so i let myself in through the back door, and then, i saw...."

his voice trails off, and he gestures behind him. your daughter is clad in his precious dodgers jersey, and the previously white material is stained with mud and dirt from rolling around on the floor.

"oh my god, seok," you gasp, thinking your husband was crying because his jersey was ruined, but you're even more surprised when he stops you from going over to your daughter to take the jersey away.

"i'm not sad," he explains, and you wipe his tears away. "i'm just- i'm just really happy. i asked her why she was wearing the jersey, and she said-"

"if daddy likes, then i like!" your daughter's cheery voice cuts in.

"you wore the jersey because daddy likes it?" you ask, endeared by your daughter's antics.

"mhm! daddy loves the jersey, and daddy loves me, so i wore it to make him extra happy and smiley!" your daughter grins, her eyes crinkling just like her father's, and you hear seokmin cry even louder.

"baby, i got so scared when i saw you crying," you whine, playfully hitting his arm, but then pulling him in for a hug anyways.

"i'm sorry, i couldn't contain the tears," seokmin chuckles wetly. the moment is interrupted by a phone call from seungcheol, who says that if your family doesn't arrive in the next 30 minutes, all the food was going to be finished.

(on the drive to the picnic, you tap seokmin's shoulder to catch his attention. "thank you, for teaching our daughter how to love. she's this way because she learned from the best."

seokmin can only smile back at you, and none of you talk about how tears well up in his eyes again.)

mingyu:

it was a friday evening, and mingyu decided that his tried-and-tested, well-loved kimchi jjigae would be the perfect dinner. he grabs the ingredients and utensils and gets to work right away.

while you were finishing up some work, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of mingyu's cooking. unable to help yourself, you quickly go over to the kitchen, and your heart is filled with warmth at the sight of mingyu, tall mingyu, hunched over the too-low stove, making dinner for your family of three.

"what's cookin', good-lookin'?" you say, sneaking up behind mingyu, effectively startling your husband, who jumps up in the air with a squeal.

"shit, baby, you gave me a heart-attack," mingyu whines, pretending to be upset but still leaning down to kiss you sweetly.

"and a stained white t-shirt," you giggle, and mingyu stares at the white tank top he was wearing, with a large stain forming on it. the stew must have spilled on him when he got startled, and the thought of having to remove the stain made him groan.

"wait, where's my apron?" he questions. being a clumsy person by nature, mingyu has perfected some fool-proof techniques for himself so that he can reduce the number of disasters he creates on a daily basis. one of these techniques was to always wear an apron while cooking so that nothing splatter onto his clothes.

"isn't it here?" you ask, walking over to a cabinet where his apron is usually kept, but the spot was empty.

"that's strange," mingyu mumbles. "maybe i put it in the laundry accidentally. i'll check later."

none of you notice the blue-checkered apron stashed in a corner of your son's bedroom later that night, when you tuck him into bed.

a week goes by, and both mingyu and you forget about the missing apron, till mingyu is spilling marinara sauce on his favorite sweater.

"we'll just buy a new one," mingyu sighs when another extensive search of the kitchen had still not helped you find a new apron.

being workaholics, and chronically bad at remembering things, mingyu and you somehow forgot to buy a new apron. in fact, the thought doesn't strike him till the next week, when everyone was gathered in seungcheol's backyard for a barbecue party.

"shit, i don't have an apron," mingyu groans, having realized the lack of an apron just as he was about to start grilling the meat.

before seungcheol can give mingyu a spare, your son is rushing towards you, mingyu's missing apron tied around his waist, and the ends clutched in his tiny fists to avoid tripping on the too-long fabric for his too-small body.

"dada! i'm cooking today!"

your boy even grabs one of the kiddie plastic forks and spoons, standing next to mingyu at the grill, the apron hanging off his tiny frame, and a makeshift chef hat (a plastic bag) atop his head.

"okay, you can be my sous-chef," mingyu grins, looking at your son with love and affection in his eyes.

(your son only helps mingyu sprinkle salt over some of the pieces of meat he was grilling, but the unbridled giggles escaping him made the memory more precious.)

minghao:

"i'm bored." you announce, plopping next to your husband on the couch, snuggling up against him.

"what, you want me to dance or something?" minghao replies, looking at you with an amused grin.

"wonwoo did tell me you could bust a few moves back in the day," you tease, and minghao rolls his eyes.

"those moves were meant to be left in those days, cutie," he smiles, booping your nose. "anything else i can do to entertain you?"

you hum, contemplating what your answer should be, when you finally find the best answer.

"you should do a tea ceremony!" you suggest. "i always feel so relaxed watching you do it."

minghao gapes at you, his eyes widening. "i thought the exact same thing! i'll get the tea set, can you grab all the ingredients and utensils?"

"on it, boss," you salute, making your husband laugh at your playful demeanour, before he heads into the bedroom to retrieve his tea set.

the set was very precious to him; his grandmother had handcrafted each cup, saucer, and teapot with utmost care. she had even hand-painted each utensil, and minghao cherished the set a lot.

to his surprise, when he looks for the tea set in the dresser, where it is always stored, it's missing.

"darling, can you come in here for a sec?" minghao calls out for you, making you leave the ingredients on the kitchen counter and rushing into your bedroom at the urgency of his tone.

"where's my tea set?"

"in the dresser," you answer.

"it isn't there now," minghao frowns, and when you come closer to check, you notice the missing box.

"ah, maybe i put it somewhere else?" you mumble. "i was clearing out the dresser a few days back, and i remember taking the set out to put it somewhere else. it was too heavy for the dresser, and i didn't want to risk breaking it."

"do you remember where you put it?" minghao asks, calm and composed. he was a little antsy at first, but he trusts you with keeping his belongings safe.

"maybe in the kitchen?" you sigh, not being able to recollect. "let's go look there."

minghao follows you to the kitchen, and you both open up various cabinets and drawers, but the tea set wasn't in any of them.

just at the moment, your daughter walks into the room, confidently striding up to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a carton of orange juice.

"hi sweetie, do you want me to pour you some?" minghao asks your daughter, but she shakes her head.

"the juice isn't for me," she explains. "it's for the tea party."

"tea party?" you and minghao ask in unison, and your daughter smiles.

"come join us!"

she leads the both of you into her room, and the black box you'd been trying to find all this time is on the floor of your daughter's bedroom.

but that wasn't the end of it. your daughter had made four of her favorite dolls sit upright on plastic chairs, one left empty for her, and placed them around the small table she had in her room. and surely enough, minghao's tea set was placed on the table, with each chair having a cup placed in front of it, and the teapot in the middle.

in moments like these, with minghao's fragile tea set involved, you were glad that your daughter was responsible and careful with handling precious things, just like her father.

"do you guys want a cup too?" your daughter offers, and, is 'no' ever an answer?

(the tea set only had 6 cups, and with the last cup being handed over to you, minghao had to resort to sipping lukewarm orange juice out of his daughter's purple unicorn mug. he'd never felt happier.)

seungkwan:

making your two sons watch a horror movie, late at night, probably wasn't seungkwan's best decision as a father. but when they shot him with the puppy eyes, he couldn't help but give in.

so now, you have two seven year-olds, clutching onto you for dear life while 'monster house' plays on the TV.

"momma! make the house stop!" one son shrieks, trying to hide his entire body behind you, while your other son grips onto seungkwan's arm tightly, as if scared of being sucked into the TV and joining the kids in the movie.

"okay. that's enough," you decide, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. "this is why we have a zero tolerance policy for horror movies in this house, seungkwan."

"i'm sorry, baby," seungkwan pouts. "they looked so-"

"i know. i get it," you sigh, you yourself having given into many of their ridiculous demands only because of how wide and watery their eyes would get.

your kids really need to stop spending time with mingyu and seokmin.

"off to bed, both of you," you instruct your boys, and they waste no time, scurrying out of the living room as quickly as possible.

"should i go check if they're okay?" seungkwan asks, feeling guilty.

"they'll be fine," you insist. your boys would have been screaming their heads off by now if anything scared them even the slightest bit.

"how about we finish the movie? i'm kinda curious to see how it ends," you suggest, and seungkwan agrees.

at some point during the movie, you must have dozed off, because when you open your eyes, you find yourself in your bedroom with the sunlight peeking in through the curtains.

and you discern the cause behind your disrupted sleep.

"babe, have you seen my badminton racquets?" seungkwan whispers gently, hovering above you.

"mm, not in the storage room?" you croak out, rubbing your eyes.

"nope, i already checked, and- wait, don't fall asleep!" seungkwan whines when you cover yourself with the blankets and turn to your side to sleep again.

"it's saturday, just sleep in kwan," you groan.

"but i told jeonghan i'd play badminton with him today," seungkwan frowns.

"alright, no morning cuddles for you then," you huff, feigning annoyance.

"i guess jeonghan wouldn't mind if i don't show up," seungkwan mumbles, and you smile triumphantly as your husband joins you in bed, holding you close.

the next time you wake up, you scream.

"what happened?" seungkwan gasps, immediately waking up as well. his panic dies down as soon as he sees the sight that made you scream.

both your sons holding seungkwan's missing badminton racquets, standing at the foot of the bed. their faces were covered by ski masks, and they stared at you both, racquets ready to attack.

("boys, we aren't ghosts," you try again. your boys still aren't very convinced. they've held seungkwan and you hostage in your bedroom for an hour under the pretext of protecting themselves from 'ghosts.'

"if we're ghosts, then i guess you won't get pancakes for breakfast," your husband declares, and your boys are immediately pouncing upon you two, apologizing for thinking you were ghosts and begging you to make them pancakes.

that day you make seungkwan promise that he won't let the boys near horror movies till they're eighteen.)

hansol:

winters always got freezing cold, and you insisted that everyone in the house must have at least one woollen on, even if they're just at home. the rule was made mainly because hansol tended to run a little cold, and you had to make sure that he was bundled up in warm clothes and socks at all times.

naturally, you're surprised when you find hansol on the couch, shivering even though he's wearing a thick jumper with a hoodie on top.

"honey, what's wrong?" you frown, immediately pulling your husband into a tight hug, hoping to warm him up.

"my warm socks, i can't find them," he complains. "they've been missing for, like, a week."

"but i remember washing them last week and putting them in your dresser," you say, clearly remembering when you had put the socks along with your other laundry.

"i'll buy some later," hansol sighs, cuddling into you for more warmth. at that moment, your daughter and son run into the living room, their hands hidden behind their backs.

"mom! dad! do you wanna see something fun?" your son asks enthusiastically, and you both nod at your children.

"okay, close your eyes, and be prepared to see a beautiful princess and a dragon!" your daughter instructs. both hansol and you share an amused glance before shutting your eyes, anticipating what your children have prepared.

you hear them whisper softly, and after a couple of minutes, they tell you to open your eyes.

your children have ducked behind the table, their bodies hidden, but their arms raise upwards.

and on their arms were puppets, made with...

... hansol's socks?

your children had drawn various faces and clothes onto the socks, and they confidently started their puppet show, narrating some version of a fairytale in which a dragon is locked in a tower, and the princess comes riding in on a horse and saves the dragon.

you look down at your husband, who is thoroughly enjoying the puppet show, his laugh reverberating in the living room, which only spurs your children on to making more exaggerated motions and voices as they narrate the story.

(in the end, you give hansol some of your own pink woollen socks, and the sight of him walking around the whole house with baby pink socks is surely a memory you'll remember for a long time.)

chan:

"mm, you need to shave," you groan when chan playfully nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his stubble grazing your skin.

"you're just like the others," chan pouts.

"well, the others are right," you smile. "plus, i happen to like my husband beard-less."

"whatever you wish, is my command," chan sighs dramatically, rolling out of bed to head into the bathroom.

"don't forget to use your electric razor!" you laugh, and he groans in response.

"neither my wife nor my friends will ever let me live in peace," chan laments, walking into the bathroom. he fetches his razor, which had been kept in a box on a high shelf so that their daughter wouldn't be able to reach it, but for some strange reason, the shaving foam wasn't there next to it.

"babe, did you keep my shaving foam somewhere?" chan calls out.

"it's always in the bathroom," you answer. "i have no use for it anyways."

chan sighs, looking in different cabinets to locate the shaving foam, but it had gone missing.

just then, your daughter walks into the room, banging a spoon on a plastic lid.

"breakfast is ready!"

after making her announcement, she scurries out of the room. chan and you are quick to follow, wondering if your daughter had messed up the kitchen.

surprisingly, she takes you to her bedroom, where there's a few plastic lids filled with something, and...

"my shaving foam!" chan points out, locating the can on his daughter's dresser.

"no! whipped cream! for pancake!" your daughter retorts, pointing to the plastic lids on her bed.

she had made purple-colored pancakes with clay (the other colors had gone missing) and they were topped off with chan's shaving foam.

"yum yum!"

chan and you burst into laughter at the same time.

(later, you make some real and edible pancakes, which your daughter and husband finish up quickly. they even fight over the last pancake.

amidst the chaos of the fight, they don't notice you quietly finishing up the last pancake too.)

- fin.

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[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

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

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[deadghosy]

Okay so I just started reading Hazbin stuff on your blog, but they're AWESOME!! I'd like to request some Catnap!reader headcanons with the Vees if that's possible?

SURE! Thanks for the suggestion anon🦆💗

CATNAP! READER W/ THE VEES FOR A DAY

prompt: one of the Vee’s grabbed you out of now where and brought you to their tower to hang out.

You didn’t know how this flat faced person got your attention…more like grabbed your tail like a untrained child 😭

Vox grabbed your tail dragging you to the Vee’s tower as you sighed, leaving some red gas out of your mouth annoyed.

I feel like somehow you would agree to hang out with the Vee’s as long as you don’t see them in your hellish life forever.

I can imagine a picture of you and the Vee’s taking a selfie, but Velvette is on her phone, Vox is smiling at the camera, and Valentino is trying to blow a kiss at you.

Valentino was trying to cook for the other two Vee’s and you only for the kitchen to burn down as you and Velvette order take out as Vox gets the fire extinguisher. Valentino is trying not to touch the ✨pretty fire✨

I headcannon Valentino finding you attractive because if your tall frame. But also your smile as you just stand there smiling having your hands behind your back.

Imagine Valentino showing off his guns and you’re like. “Who needs guns when I can do this.” You said smiling as poppy gas slides through your teeth and knocks Valentino straight out on the ground when you smirk.

I can see the Vee’s and you going in a shopping spree and you decide to fuck with them and spend almost all their saving worth. Vox knew what you were doing so he stopped you.

I feel like the Vee’s will try to use try to get info on Alastor. But that’s mostly Vox so it would useless as you don’t anything form Alastor other than Alastor hates when you knock him out for bedtime

You literally sat there as Valentino was trying to get you to watch one of his sex tapes…you knocked him out and left the room as you grumbled.

I can imagine if it was sleepover it would chaotic as hell as Vox would be the one to fall asleep first and duct taped to the ceiling as the other snicker

For shits and giggles, Velvette will say you give off Lana Del Rey vibes as you just side eye her saying, “what tf you know about Lana Del Rey?”

You two are the best music buddies of modern genre.

Imagine a cute little headcannon where they all have secret matching bracelets and they let you have one.

Vox brought you on his channel to talk about your weird and cocky appearance. You were just on there to be clowned until you smirked letting poppy gas as the camera man fell breaking the camera.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! You dumbass cat!” “I’m dumb?” You said glancing at the man beside you as you slapped him smoothly with your tail as he had a shocked face touching his cheek.

I can see Valentino trying to get catnap! Reader to wear heels only for catnap! Reader to break them in their hands shaking their head no as they walk away again

I headcannon that the only V that catnap! Reader finds tolerable is Velvette because of her whole personality and not how she tries to bring catnap! Reader down

You definitely have that fun friend troupe with Velvette which is sweet and wholesome.

Velvette and you were hanging out on her side of the tower as she was getting you dressed in [style aesthetic]. You actually liked it as you gave her a thumbs up and grin.

I headcannon Velvette and Vox to try to make you do those dumbass TikTok dance trends with them so they could get #1 on the trending board.

I can imagine catnap! Reader ordering one of tose bug zappers to only electrocute Valentino

Velvette posted you and her doing a fashion walk as Angel was shocked seeing this on her page and shows the staff of the hotel.

The hazbin hotel gang will be like: “why tf is our resident hanging out with them?” As you are just trying to see why people even love the Vee’s.

I can headcannon that Vox forced you into a group chat with them

I can see that every time you hang out with the Vee’s, your phone gets blown up with worried text from the hazbin hotel crew. And then Vox will try to hack or get into your phone to disable your phone.

I imagine you and Vox literally shitting in each other. Like you say “why as you so short.” While he thinks of a comeback to say back to you.

I headcannon that if you and the Vee’s played uno together, you’re rigging it. Cause ain’t no one gonna win today.

At the end of the day, you left their asses as you used your red smoke on them…well idk about Vox cause that bitch has a tv head. You probably gave him a virus to circuit.

BRO WHO TF MADE THAT SMIRK FOR CATNAP?! EHH? Anyways I hope you guys liked this🦆💗

[chsvok]

heyyyooo

how do you feel about writing something for shoto??? maybe something fluffy like him noticing things without you saying (like noticing your uncomfortable and him doing something about it or buying you snacks from your fave brand)?? you don’t have to stick to these but yahhh 😭😭

i love ur writing a lot!! you style has me squealing lol

— KEEPING YOU WARM

pairing. pro hero! shoto x pro hero! fem reader

fluff!, shoto is an absolute gentleman, i absolutely love this request i hope this is to your liking and lived up to your expectations!! 💗

You loved patrolling, in contrast to what other heroes might say, to you patrolling was relaxing-to some extent of course. It definitely was not relaxing when there were villains in need to be caught.

However, there were those bone-chilling winter nights that made you absolutely hate patrolling to an incredible extent. Your winter hero costume that to others looked very warm, didn’t exactly do its job at keeping you warm.

Your breath fogged in the air as you sighed, your hands desperate going up and down your arms in search for warmth, any warmth. Your patrol partner—Shoto, who was walking one your side, glanced at you with his heterochromic eyes, completely unfazed by the weather. His hair was dusted with small bits of frost as snow came down on you both.

“You’re shivering.” He pointed out, his eyes staring at you softly.

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not, it’s fine.”

This was your first time ever patrolling—no less meeting the Pro Hero, you did not want to leave the impression on him that you could not handle the slightest bit of cold. However, he could see right through you by the way your teeth chattered as you replied back.

Shoto didn’t say anything back and swiftly unwrapped his his thick white scarf from around his neck. He stepped closer to you, “May I?” He asked innocently. You wanted to protest, decline, this was too embarrassing for you but your head moved on its own and you found yourself nodding.

He gently wrapped his scarf around your neck, the warm material quickly soothing your cold skin.

“Thank you.” You whispered, looking up at him mesmerized, God he was such a gentleman, you totally understood his fangirls now.

He met your gaze, eyes soft but filled with slight concern. “You were cold.” Those three words make your heart flutter, his attentiveness was so attractive. Your ears turned pink and you blushed as his hand made contact with your shoulder, he gave it a small pat before beginning to walk again.

You quickly followed after him, the faint smell of vanilla that hit your nose from his scarf making you slightly dizzy.

“What about you? Won’t you be cold?” Your voice was soft as you asked, nervous. The Pro Hero shrugged, a faint smile coating his lips. “I’m my own furnace.” He chuckled and raised his left hand as a small fire danced on his palm.

You laughed softly and nodded your head, your breath still visible in the air. “Good point.”

You both kept patrolling until your shifts ended. However in one swift motion turned to you, “If It is okay with you, I’d like to take you out for a warm cup of coffee the next time you are free. So you won’t be as cold.”

His words caught you off guard but you quickly nodded and grinned. “I’d really like that.”

He nodded and waved you goodbye as you both parted ways. Not only did you leave feeling warm instead of freezing cold, but you also left looking forward to a date with the handsome man.

© CHSVOK. please do not plagiarize, copy, or translate my work in any way, shape, or form.

reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[w2soneshots]

Back off mate -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: angst, jealousy, possessive Harry, argument, alcohol consumption.

summary: while playing pub golf with the boys someone tries to flirt with you, that leads Harry to become quite jealous.

notes: hello my babies! Here’s the request🫶🏼. I know that Harry isn’t great with confrontation so there isn’t much of that in this. I hope you enjoy!!🤗💗

Liked by chrismd, faithloisak and 432,908 others

y/username: so much beer

Tagged: @wroetoshaw @chrismd

-comments-

wroetoshaw: rethinking my life decisions in that second pic

georgeclarkey: I so drunkk rn🍻

-> chrismd: we can tell mate

y/nfanpage21: uhm that outfit❤️‍🔥

user96813305: I love this post sm😭🫶🏼

Tonight me, Harry, Chris and George are playing pub golf. Some others were going to join us but they cancelled lat minute so it's just us four. I got ready and we left our apartment at seven o'clock. George and Chris were already in the taxi when we got in and it took us to the first pub.

After quite a few drinks and travelling to three different pubs we were all on pretty much the same points. I was quite drunk but Harry seemed to remain just slightly tipsy. As we entered our fourth bar I spotted a pool table. "Oh my god! We should play, yeah let's play. Come on!" I dragged Harry over to the table by his wrist and the other boys followed close behind.

Just as we began playing a group of a few guys walked up to us and watched as I completely missed the white ball. Harry chuckled. "Do you need help darlin'?" One of the men asked, coming towards me. Since I was so drunk I didn't even think about the fact he was most likely flirting so I agreed.

Harry quickly glanced at the boys and then back to the man who now stood beside me, his hands on mine, helping me to push the ball into the net. A large smile spread across my face as I cheered in excitement.

I glanced over to Harry and immediately my smile fell from my face. He looked at me with clenched teeth as his jaw ticked, eyes boring into mine.

The entire vibe changed. Harry didn't move. Chris and George walked up to the guy and told him firmly to "back off mate." I stepped towards Harry, my arm reaching out for him but he stepped back and made a b-line for the pub door. Suddenly I felt very sober as I looked back to the boys, they just sighed.

I followed after Harry and found him leaning against the brick wall. He didn't look at me. "I'm sorry." I told him quietly. He didn't move. It was painfully quiet, the only sounds being drunk people walking around and the odd car driving by. "I would never- you know I-" "I think we should talk tomorrow. I need sleep." He interrupted me, pushing himself off the wall.

We left in a taxi not long after and I text the boys informing them that we were going home. We didn't say a word to each other until we got inside our apartment. Harry took his shirt off then lay on the couch, grabbing the blanket that rested on the back of the sofa and placing it over himself.

"You're not coming to bed?" I asked. "No." He said plainly. I slowly took in a shaky breath then went to bed myself, deciding not to push him any further.

The next morning I woke with a banging headache. I shuffled into the kitchen but stopped in my tracks when I saw Harry sat on the couch scrolling through his phone. Suddenly last night's events flooded my mind.

I walked over to the couch and sat down. He glanced at me. "You know I'd never cheat on you. I love you more than anything. I was really drunk last night and wasn't thinking about the fact that guy was flirting. I'm sorry Harry." I sincerely apologised. He put his phone down and moved all of his attention to me.

"I know. It just really pissed me off. The way that- dick looked at you I-" his eyes flashed with anger then closed as he calmed himself down. I nodded. "I can't lose you." He whispered. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. I pulled him into a tight hug and he held onto me as if I was going to disappear "You won't. I promise."

[merlucide]

PREGNANCY HC’S W/ BLLK BOYS PT2

notes: RAAAAAAH (og ask)

characters: Lorenzo, Otoya, Shidou

warnings: cursing, fem reader, cringe ig

bllk mlist PT1 PT2

LORENZO DON

awwwww

He’d be so attentive and helpful ☹️💗

Always making sure you’re okay and comfortable

When you tell him that your prego he doesn’t believe you at first

He’s like ‘Ha good one’

But then you’re like ‘I’m fr’

he gets all quiet and kinda like😧 

‘Mio amore.. a baby..?!’

HE IS SO HAPPY!!!!! :3 like is so shocked bc he didn’t think he’d REALLY have a family of his own <33

Hugs you so tightly and kisses your temple and then your lips <33

Also calls Snuffy afterwards lmao

Wants your pregnancy to be as easy for you as possible

You’ll kinda turn into a couch potato LMAO

He’ll bring you bunch of snacks for you to munch on— makes sure you get enough protein do you and the baby stay healthy

You can only glare at him when he goes for 2nd and 3rd rounds of ice cream and your munching on celery 😐

“Think of the baby☺️”

“The baby wants deep fried Oreos. Now.”

Rests his head on your belly bump and talks to the baby 

He’ll put his chin on your bump and look up at you— 🥹💗

He can’t wait to meet the baby <33

Tells you all the time how much he loves you and how excited he is

OTOYA EITA

FYI I hate on Otoya in between hcs so… I’m sorry I literally can’t write for him if I don’t hate a little

ah yes, this loser do better

pls like he’s actually useless 

ugh

Anywho- you tell him “I’m pregnant!” and this mf literally is the embodiment this

like his fucking face and everything

and it turns into

“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT”

“ pregnant?!? With a baby?!” 

Yeah

He’s very excited to be a daddy! just so stupid.

He tells all of his friends and posts about it on on every social he has.

Literally spams Karasu’s phone 😭

Karasu had lost the bet that Otoya’s swimmers wouldn’t be strong enough….

Wants to be very involved with getting ready for the baby—

When yall go clothes shopping for the baby he just finds the absolutely dumbest onesies/ shirts😭

like Otoya, are you trying to dress our baby or fucking clown

HE ALSO ORDERS CUSTOM ONSIES 😭 they say sum like “Daddy’s little ninja” or “My dad’s my favorite soccer player” 😭?? the first ones cute tho

When you are like have back pain he’ll massage your back and run you a nice bubble bath :)

Oh and the pregnancy hormones.

Him and Kaiser tie for worst comforters during your pregnancy 😭

Unlike Kaiser- he doesn’t shut up and try to deescalate the situation 😐

Instead he just kinda stands there like

he eventually asks what’s wrong and just hugs you bc he has no idea what to do rn 😭

He cares though 😭 just actually so stupid

He panics a lot during like your whole pregnancy lmao

Scared the baby’s just gonna P O P out ig

Though he does tell you how much he appreciates you and the gift you’re giving him :)

He is a loser but he does love you and your future little one <3

Okay last thing but after the baby is born and the crazy mama bear mode kicks in, he is TERRIFIED of you. 😭

Bro wanted to hold the baby again and you clutched the baby and gave him the nastiest, scariest glare and bro almost pissed his pants

Sorry this is kinda short 🫠 I hate Otoya with a PASSION (don’t know if you’ve noticed) so my I struggle to come up with stuff for him 💔

SHIDOU RYUSEI

ah yes, this loser 2.0 at least he’s hot

sigh,

You told him and he just kinda goes “🤨” ‘Bffr’

and like, you are fr, and kinda really nervous too

Then he gets all quiet and blank

Then goes straight to tweaking and puts his hands on the head and yells

Starts jumping too 😭

Grabs you and kisses you so hard, followed by a bone crushing hug :3

‘Holy shit, Holy shit, Holy shit, Holy shit— SHUT UP!!!! A BABY?????!!!’

Very happy and excited:)

So proud of you and him <3

… unfortunately for you when he tells people of your pregnancy, he over shares about the process 🫠

Paints the baby’s room :3 adds some of that Shidou Flare ofc

Rubs your feet and insists you sit on his lap, despite your worries of you being to heavy.

Loves, loves, LOVES, listening to the baby— any sound he hears, he freaks out

Talks to the baby sooo much too

Worried that you’ll over do it and insists you just do nothing till the baby comes

Shidou is pretty confident he’ll be a good dad, but is scared that he won’t be what the kid needs

Shidou knows how he acts and who he is, and doesn’t want to hurt the kid :( which of course you reassure him that he would never do that, and that he’d be a great dad <3

Also super duper extra protective of you during your pregnancy, like you can’t go anywhere without him lmao

RAAAAAAH 3 NEW WORKS IN 3 DAYS 💪 ON A ROLE FRRRR

made October 6th 2024