#that face he makes after the ramen drop is SO good

[lieslab]

The ache comes and goes like stars with the weather

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Summary: After finding out a friend tried to take their own life, you fall apart in front of your boyfriend.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.6k

Trigger warning: Suicide and guilt for being unable to stop a suicide.

Suicide, depression, and anxiety resources

A/N: This request was devastating, so requestee, I tried to insert some light into it. Hopefully, light comes your way soon. In the meantime, Hyunjin is Hyunjin <3

_ _ _

“Alright, which cereal do you want?” Hyunjin stopped the grocery cart in front of the wall of cereal. 

You glanced at all the boxes, trying to decide which one. After a few moments, you pointed to one of the brighter boxes. His eyes narrowed and he reached over, slowly pulling it off the shelf. “You want the one with the most sugar possible in it?” 

“Oh, like you don’t eat fruit like a starved man.” 

“Hey!” His hand flew to his chest, where he clutched his t-shirt in agony. “This isn’t like that and you know it! There’s nothing wrong with my fruit.” 

“If fruit has sugar in it, then my cereal can have sugar in it, too.” 

“But fruit sugar is natural.” 

“My foot up your ass is going to be natural. Food is food. Let me enjoy my sugar-filled cereal. Don’t make me lecture you on the two packs of ramen you had for dinner last night. If my sugar intake is an issue-” You reached out and pointed at him, “then so is your sodium intake.” 

His hands went up and he sighed. “Damn, you got me there. You win this one, but just for today.” 

Your tongue stuck out at him. He rolled his eyes and dropped the box into the grocery cart. “You’re such a brat.” He huffed, unlocked his phone, and deleted the item from his notes app. 

The two of you started to grocery shop twenty minutes ago. You stood with your feet on the end of the cart. Hyunjin pushed and you held on tight. On the way here, you tried to come up with somewhat of a grocery list. 

It was all odd and end stuff. You didn’t know exactly what you were getting and not getting. Some stuff, you picked out randomly while going through the aisles. That happened to be the worst part of your grocery shopping experiences. Both of you were so busy and easily distracted, coming up with a detailed grocery list felt difficult. You winged every grocery trip every time you walked into the store. 

“What do you think we should have for dinner tonight?” 

“Uh,” you shrugged. “I don’t know. Does anything sound good to you?” 

“Not really, no. Maybe pork belly and some grilled vegetables? Simple and filling stuff.” 

“With a side of rice?” 

He glanced over with a scowl. “Duh! Who do you think I am? Even if I didn’t want the rice, you do. You always want rice. You’re going to turn into a bag of rice.” 

Your laughter cut off when you felt a buzz in your phone pocket. You pulled it out and glanced down with a frown. Your playful mood diminished as anxiety lined your stomach. You couldn’t explain it and you didn’t know why, but dread lingered. 

“Who is that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Probably a stupid spam caller wanting to tell you about your car’s extended warranty.” He reached out to grab another item off the shelf and deleted it off the list with his other hand. 

You swiped the phone and placed it against your ear. “Hello?” A feminine voice you didn’t recognize responded. Your eyebrows furrowed and Hyunjin glanced up, but he didn’t say anything. 

When you didn’t speak, he slowly inched the cart forward. You continued to grip the metal basket with one hand. He took another look at the list in his notes app and slowly turned the cart around the aisle. 

“If I was peanut butter, where would I be?” He whispered beneath his breath. He scanned the shelves and looked over his shoulder toward you again. 

Your face lost its color and you gripped the phone tighter. “Yeah, um…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for letting me know.” 

His heart fell to his stomach. When you hung up your phone, you sucked in a deep breath. You shoved your phone in your pocket.

“Babe? Is everything okay?” 

Your head shook and you blinked rapidly. You stepped down from the cart. “I’ve gotta get to the hospital. It’s my friend, t-they’ve-” You cut off again, unable to utter the words. “I’ve gotta go. I have to get to the hospital. I’m sorry, I-I just-” 

“Do you want me to drive you? I can leave the cart up front.” He reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “If it’s an emergency, I’m not sure you should be driving in this condition.” 

Your head shook. “I’ll be okay. I’m sorry. Can you have one of the guys pick you up? I think Jeongin said he was free for the next few days.” 

“Of course. If you need me, call me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Drive carefully and remember I’m just a phone call away.” 

You sniffled and nodded. He tugged you closer, gently cupped your face, and placed a soft kiss to the center of your forehead. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He watched as you hurried out of the aisle and rushed to the front of the store. The entire time, his heart fractured. He didn’t know the situation, but he knew how much you cared for your friends. If something drastic happened, you’d crumble. 

All he could do was hope everything worked out and you’d come home safe and sound when you were ready. 

~ ~ ~ 

By the time you came home, Hyunjin paced the living room. The moment the front door knob jiggled and the door creaked open, he was right there waiting for you. Your puffy and glossy eyes met his. He scanned your body, making sure you weren’t injured. When everything seemed in check, he sighed in relief. 

His long arms stretched out, desperate to give you the safety he couldn’t provide while you were away. You didn’t bother to kick off your shoes. Instead, you stumbled forward and collapsed into his arms. Your arms wrapped around his back and you squeezed tight. 

You buried your face in his chest, not bothering to explain the situation. The weight of everything nearly stoned you to death. Emotionally, you were fried. Everything was your fault. All of it. Every little piece. You did this. 

He rubbed your back softly, not wanting to discomfort you. For quite a while, your soft breaths filled the room. Too distraught, you didn’t speak. You didn’t move. You didn’t know how. You couldn’t. Your lungs collapsed from the weight of your own self-guilt. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

His words were warm honey. They always had been and they always would be. Warm enough to soothe your soul and ease the burden of your heart. You didn’t know how to start. What if he blamed you, too? 

Your eyes squeezed shut and you hugged him tighter. He reached down and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

You didn’t plan to speak, but the words came out in faint mumbles. His cotton t-shirt swallowed your truths. “Baby, I can’t hear you when you’re hiding in my shirt.” 

Your head shifted. An ear pressed against the wallop of his heart. His soul glowed with gold. Oxygen vacuumed through his nose and air fell from his lips. Each inhale and exhale, a reminder that he was alive. 

“My best friend tried to commit suicide tonight.” You blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the sting. “It’s all my fault. Everything is my fault. They kept saying they couldn’t be alone. I-I didn’t think they would actually try to-” 

Your bottom lip trembled. The lump in your throat grew and smothered your words. Your knees buckled and Hyunjin quickly scooped you up bridal style. “Woah, easy there. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

“I’m such a horrible person,” you croaked. “What kind of friend doesn’t realize someone is hurting like that? They nearly d-died and I-” 

His heart burst into a thousand tiny pieces. He spun around and walked you into the living room. Your shoes still sat on your feet, but he didn’t care. He sat on the end of the couch with you in his lap. “Sweetheart, look at me.” 

More tears covered your bright eyes. The light died out at the hospital. Your emotions went numb and you detached from your body. Nurses monitored your best friend, making sure they remained stable. Hooked up to an IV drip and surrounded by a swarm of scrubs, a piece of you died. 

You couldn’t look at Hyunjin. You didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. The idea of letting anyone else down, it stuck another dart in your heart. You couldn’t stand it. 

When you didn’t glance over, he reached up and gently grabbed your chin. “Baby, it’s not your fault.” Your bottom lip trembled harder. A gentle thumb wiped away a fallen tear. “I mean it, it’s not.” 

“But it is,” you whispered. “It’s all my fault and I failed at being a good friend.” 

“Sometimes things happen that aren’t in our grasp. You can’t control the actions of your friend.” 

“They almost died.” 

“And you didn’t put them there, baby. You’re not in their head. I know you. I know how you interact with your friends. I know how much you care for the people you love. You can’t always save people from their thoughts.” 

“I could have tried,” you said. “I-I could have shown up and been there for them. I thought about them so much for the past week. I think I knew deep down, but I just ignored it b-because I-” 

You ripped up pieces of your own heart with each word. He hated it. He hated the way you spoke so lowly of yourself that he reached up with a finger and pressed it against your lips to silence you. 

“Stop that,” he whispered. “You’re only hurting yourself with these thoughts. I know it’s how you feel, but please believe me when I say it’s not your fault. If you start thinking like this, you’ll never escape these thoughts and you’ll trap yourself.” 

Your nose twitched with a sniffle. His hand shifted and he gently cupped your face. “Are they still at the hospital?” 

You weakly nodded. “They’re being monitored to make sure they’re stable. Once they’re stable, they’ll be moved to an inpatient mental health facility. I-I don’t know what happens after that, not really. Suicide watch, I think. Therapy session and probably medication, maybe.” 

He nodded and wiped away more tears from your face with his sleeve. “Sometimes, people need a little extra help in healing their hurts and there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Life can be difficult and I think we both know that.” 

It took a few seconds before you sucked in a deep breath. “I feel horrible. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s my fault. If I would have known, I would have…” You trailed off, trying to stop the thoughts. “I can’t believe they almost died.” 

Hyunjin shifted, leaning back and sprawling out his legs. Your body moved with him. Your own legs stretched on top of his and your head leaned back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your torso and your hands grabbed his. 

“I think when we’re in low spots, sometimes we say things that are cries for help, but we’re not always honest about how we really feel. It can be difficult asking for help. I don’t think your friend wants you to blame yourself. In fact, I bet that’s probably the last thing they want.” 

The point of his chin laid on your head. You sat tucked beneath him, breathing softly. Some of the stress and dysfunction fell away from your body. Just being close to someone you loved made you feel a lot better. 

“I still feel awful.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I know you do, but I also want you to know that I don’t think you played a role in this. Mental health can be hard and it takes a lot for your mindset to shift to suicide. Let’s try to focus on something else for right now, yeah?” 

You hummed softly. 

“Are they stable?” 

“Yeah. The nurses said they’d be okay. They caught things in time before their system… um-” 

“Good. You’re they’re emergency contact?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Which means if anything else happens, you’ll be contacted?” 

“I guess so.” Your eyes shut and you sighed. “I still worry. I’m sorry for putting all of this on you. I should have called you at the hospital, but I was freaking out and I couldn’t sit still and-” 

He chuckled and gently pulled your hair back. “You don’t have to apologize. If I was in your shoes, I’d be freaking out as well. I’m just trying to remind you that this probably feels horrible, but maybe your best friend can get the help they need.” 

“You think so?” You uttered. Your head shifted back, so you could look at him from his chest. 

“I believe it, yeah. Inpatient isn’t fun, but most staff members pick those careers because they want to help people feel better. I have to believe that your friend will find something there that helps, even if it’s just a little.” 

“Thank you.” 

He smiled and let go of your torso. His hands cupped your cheeks. Right as he was about to kiss your forehead, your stomach growled, causing you to blush. “Sorry, I haven’t had food since lunch.” 

“Are you up for eating something?” 

“Like?” 

“Well, I could make you something savory, but you were so worried about my sodium intake earlier. How about you even out my sodium intake with a bowl of your favorite sugary cereal? It’s out and waiting for you on the kitchen counter.” 

Your eyes narrowed. You sat up and spun around to face him. “That cereal is supposed to be on top of the fridge with the other cereal.” 

“Hmm? Is it?” He glanced away and refused to meet your eyes. “I must have left it out.” 

“Hwang Hyunjin, did you steal a bowl full of my cereal?” 

“Who wants to know?” 

You huffed and pushed yourself up. “That was mine!” You stumbled, nearly hitting the ground, and rushed into the kitchen. 

“Uh-oh,” he whispered. He swung to his feet and tip-toed closer to the door. You grabbed the box and gasped. His eyes widened and he turned the front door’s knob.

“YOU ATE HALF THE BOX OF MY FAVORITE CEREAL?” 

He screeched and threw open the door. Bursting through the screen door, he rushed outside while you yelled his full name. You grabbed the box and hurried after him, shaking it like a mad man. 

In the blanket of darkness, he shrieked. His feet flew over the strands of green grass. You followed his tall silhouette, dubbing him of treason and yelling that he was a traitor. It was probably for the best that the two of you lived out in the barren countryside. 

Despite life’s downfalls, sometimes you need a little someone to remind you of the happier moments and bring the joy back. You can’t control everyone around you, but you certainly can do things to make life a little easier for everyone. 

Along the way, you might find your own sugary-thief, one that speaks honey-glazed words and slips a soothing beeswax over the aching holes in your heart; if you’re unlucky, they might steal your favorite cereal, too.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz @ari-hwanggg @m-325 @justcallmewhatyoulike

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[ggukivrse]

just this once | jjk

summary. when you complain to jungkook about your lack of action in the past year, you're not really asking for a solution. but when he casually offers to help, you just can't seem to bring yourself to say no.

after all, what's the worst that could happen in hooking up just this once?

pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff (?)

word count: 5.1k

warnings: you’re gonna get sick of the title loll, brief alcohol consumption, this is lowkey pwp (there will be more plot soon i promise) swearing, explicit sexual content, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (m. receiving), he’s very cocky but also pathetic, multiple orgasms, lots of banter and teasing as dirty talk, petnames (baby), jk calls oc a brat x2, multiple positions, insinuated aftercare, let me know if i missed anything!

notes: you guys built this fic!! this was supposed to be out on thursday but i realised i was being wayy to ambitious cuz i definitely needed more than two days to write this loll. but alas, it’s here :3 as always, likes, comments, reblogs, feedback and asks are very appreciated! enjoy reading angels <33

ps. THERE WILL BE A PART TWO!!

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist. ⌗ feedback

You fumble with your keys, swaying just slightly as you try to jab the right one into the lock. Behind you, Jungkook’s laughing under his breath, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck.

“Need help?” he asks, the amusement in his voice unmistakable.

“I’ve got it,” you say, jabbing the key with exaggerated precision. The door finally clicks open, and you push it in with a triumphant, “Ha!”

“You’re so competent,” he deadpans, clapping a mock applause as he follows you in. His shoulder bumps yours as he passes. “It’s honestly inspiring.”

You kick off your shoes, tossing your keys into the bowl by the door. “And you’re so annoying,” you mutter, but there’s no heat in it.

Jungkook drops onto your couch like it’s his own, sprawling out like he owns the place. Which, in some ways, he kind of does.

A hoodie of his is already slung over the back of a kitchen chair, from some night two weeks ago when he stayed too late and decided not to drive home. There’s an energy drink in your fridge with his name written on the lid in Sharpie. The blanket he’s tugging over his lap? That’s the one he gifted you for Christmas, mostly so he could use it whenever he came over.

It’s always been like this.

He tosses his denim jacket on the couch as you grab two bottles of water from the fridge, chucking one to him without warning. He catches it with the ease.

“You were definitely flirting with that bartender,” he says, unscrewing the cap and looking at you with that maddeningly smug smile.

You scoff. “He had a mullet and called me ‘miss.’ It wasn’t flirting— it was survival.”

“Sure,” he says, nodding like he totally believes you. “That’s why you laughed at everything he said, even when he asked if you liked your tequila neat.”

“It was neat!” you say, defensive and laughing at the same time. “And besides, you flirted with the girl in the fishnets for, like, an hour.”

He shrugs. “Guilty. She had good taste in music. And thighs.”

You groan and flop down beside him on the couch, letting your head fall back against the cushion. Your thigh brushes his, but you don’t move. Neither does he. The buzz from the party is still warm in your blood, and the apartment feels too quiet now — too intimate without the noise and lights and other bodies.

“You ever think we’re just... really bad at dating?” you ask, staring at the ceiling.

“Constantly,” Jungkook says, without hesitation.

You glance at him. “Like, maybe we peaked in college.”

He makes a face. “Don’t say that. I refuse to believe my best years happened while I was still eating instant ramen and failing comp sci.”

You laugh, and he turns his head toward you, watching you with that soft-eyed expression you know too well. There’s something about Jungkook when he’s like this — no bravado, no teasing smirk, just... present. His hair is a mess from the wind, and a dark tank top hugs his figure.

He’s too comfortable here. Too familiar.

“I genuinely think I’ve forgotten what a good kiss feels like,” you say, mostly to the ceiling, like it’s a throwaway thought.

Jungkook hums. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s not even bad, it’s just...” You trail off, searching for the word. “Empty. Mechanical. Like everyone’s going through the motions, but nobody’s actually there.”

He shifts slightly, angling his body more toward you. “So no decent kissers at all lately?”

You shake your head. “No decent anything, if I’m honest.”

He raises an eyebrow, curious.

You hesitate, but the alcohol in your system makes it easier to say what you probably wouldn’t sober. “I haven’t slept with anyone in like... almost a year.”

Jungkook blinks, not in judgment, just surprised. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” You rub at your temple with a laugh. “I didn’t plan it or anything. It just kind of... kept not happening. And then it became this weird streak, and now here we are.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Well,” he says eventually, “maybe your standards are just too high.”

“Or maybe men are just mid,” you shoot back.

That gets a laugh out of him, loud and bright. He tips his head back, and you watch his throat move as he laughs. Too long. Too hard. When he calms down, he gives you a look — something mischievous that you've grown to know too well over the years.

"What?" you ask, narrowing your eyes at him with a smile.

He shrugs. “I mean... I could help."

“With my standards?”

“With the streak.”

You snort. “What, you offering?”

“Maybe.”

You tilt your head. “So what? You wanna bang it out?”

It’s meant to be funny. You’re grinning when you say it. But when you look at him — really look — he’s not laughing.

His gaze lingers on your mouth for a beat too long. Then his eyes flick up to yours.

“Just this once?” he asks, voice low. Careful. Like he’s giving you an out.

You don’t answer right away. The room goes still. The hum of the fridge feels too loud. His eyes are still on you, and it’s not a look you’ve ever seen from him before.

Your heart stutters in your chest.

You swallow. “Wouldn't it be weird?”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away.

“Only if we let it be.”

You sit there for a second, the weight of it all hitting a little too fast. Your brain’s still catching up to your mouth, to the way your body’s buzzing — not from the alcohol anymore, but from him. From the heat in his eyes, the way he said it — almost like a dare.

And then his expression shifts.

His eyes flick away, and his tongue runs over the silver ring on his bottom lip, like he’s pulling it back, reeling it in.

“Only if you want to, obviously,” he says, quieter this time. “We don’t have to.”

He starts to lean back like he's resetting the mood — like this moment can still be folded back into the safety of your usual teasing — but you stop him.

You move first.

You grab the front of his tank top — not hard, not dramatic, just enough — and you pull him in.

You kiss him.

It’s abrupt. Heat over hesitation. A split-second decision that tastes like tequila and impulse, like comfort and fuck it all wrapped up in the same breath.

At first, he doesn’t move, frozen in surprise. But then he kisses you back — really kisses you back — and suddenly you're not thinking anymore.

His hand slides to your thigh, just enough pressure to ground you, and you shift toward him instinctively, knees brushing his. His mouth moves against yours with a kind of focused laziness, like he’s savouring it. Like he’s trying to figure out exactly how you taste.

You pull back half a second, just to breathe, lips brushing his as you mutter, “Took you long enough.”

He laughs into your mouth, low and smug. “You kissed me.”

“Yeah, well. You looked like you were gonna bail.”

“I was being respectful,” he says, voice muffled against your jaw as he starts kissing along it. “But sure, let’s call it bailing.”

You gasp a little when he nips at your neck, just enough pressure to make you arch toward him. Your hands slide under his top, fingers skimming the warm skin of his back, and he shivers under your touch.

“Jesus,” you murmur. “How are you this built? You eat, like, gas station snacks and leftover noodles.”

“I work out,” he mutters between kisses, grinning as he drags his mouth back to yours. “Also, you’ve seen me shirtless.”

“Yeah, but not like this.”

“Like what?”

You tug him closer until your chest presses to his. “Like I get to touch.”

That shuts him up real quick.

He kisses you again, this time more urgently, and you feel the change in the air — less teasing, more want. Your legs shift to straddle his lap without thinking, your hands sliding up into his hair, tugging just a little.

He groans, deep and rough, biting down on your bottom lip before kissing it better. You rock your hips forward slightly and he bucks up into you with a hiss.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

You smirk against his mouth. “You offered, remember?”

“Yeah, and I’m rapidly realising that was a dangerous choice.”

You laugh, breathless, before kissing him again. He tastes like beer and something sweeter — probably the gum he always chews. You bite his lip and feel him groan into your mouth, hips jerking beneath you.

His fingers slip under your shirt, warm on your skin. Not rushed, just exploring — like he’s been curious for a while and is finally allowed to look.

You roll your hips again, slower this time, and his head drops back against the cushion with a low fuck that makes your stomach flip.

“You still sure about this?” you ask, teasing, as your hands drag down his chest, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

His eyes open — dark, focused, amused.

“You gonna stop me if I say no?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Then yeah,” he says, breath hitching as your fingers reach his abdomen. “I’m very sure.”

He catches your fingers before you can finish unbuttoning his jeans.

You raise a brow, breath still uneven. “Seriously?”

He nods, steady, calm in a way that only makes your pulse pound harder. “I said I was helping you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I thought that was like... a mutual helping situation.”

His mouth twitches. “You always gotta argue when I’m trying to do something nice?”

You open your mouth to throw something back — something biting, something stupid — but he leans in and kisses you before you can get the words out. One hand still wrapped around your wrist, the other cupping your jaw.

He pulls back just enough to speak.

“Let me take care of you.”

You stare at him for a beat, heart kicking hard in your chest.

“Fine,” you mutter, trying to sound unbothered. “But don't expect any thank yous or shit.”

“I’ll survive,” he says, already smirking as his fingers work at your jeans. “Though, for the record, I think you’re gonna want to.”

You snort — right before he pops the button of your jeans and drags the zipper down, knuckles brushing your skin. You shiver.

“God, you’re cocky.”

He glances up, eyes flicking to yours. “You saying I haven’t earned it?”

You don’t answer. Your breath stutters when his hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties, palm flush against you.

He stills.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice dropping. “You’re wet already?”

“Shut up.”

He smiles cockily.

You roll your eyes — try to, anyway — but your thighs are already parting, your body moving without conscious thought. His fingers slide into you, testing the waters, and your head tips back with a soft sigh.

He watches your face like he’s waiting for something. When your mouth parts, when your hips twitch toward his hand, that’s when he moves.

His thumb finds your bud and he's gentle at first. Circling, then rubbing just a little firmer. You bite your lip hard, trying not to give him the satisfaction of the noises building in your throat.

“Still not thanking you,” you say through clenched teeth.

“Oh, you will,” he says, low. “Eventually.”

You glare at him. He grins back, fingers dragging lower, slipping in without resistance. You suck in a breath, and he laughs softly under it.

“Okay?” he asks, suddenly serious again.

You nod, maybe too quickly. “Yeah. More than okay.”

He starts moving his fingers — slow at first, too slow. Like he’s enjoying making you wait. You squirm, trying to rock your hips into his hand, but he tightens his grip on your thigh.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, eyes gleaming. “You’re letting me do the work, remember?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re literally grinding on my hand right now.”

You reach out blindly and smack his chest. He doesn’t even flinch — just slips another finger in, and your breath catches so hard it punches the air from your lungs.

“There it is,” he murmurs.

His thumb picks up a rhythm again, and the pressure starts to build fast. He knows it, too. His free hand slides around your waist, steadying you as your body starts to shake. Your fist curls into the soft fabric of his top, needing something to hold onto.

“Still hate me?” he asks, voice rougher now, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Don’t flatter yourself— fuck—”

“Yeah?” His fingers curl just right, and your whole body tenses. “Right there?”

You nod, desperate, eyes squeezed shut. Your thighs are shaking. You’re so close you can’t even keep up the bit.

“Say it,” he says.

“Say what?”

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You groan. “Jesus, Jungkook—”

He slows down suddenly, barely moving his hand.

You whine. Actually whine.

“That’s not what I asked for.”

“God, you’re annoying,” you say, breathless.

He grins. “You're the one being the brat here.”

You drag your eyes open and glare at him, but it’s all heat now. All want. You lean in close, lips pressing against his.

"Fuck— fine. You feel so fucking good, Kook. Please, just don't stop."

He doesn’t.

He kisses you hard and fast, and his fingers start again, slick and firm and relentless. Your body clenches around him and this time, you don’t even try to hold the sounds back. His name leaves your mouth like muscle memory, and he groans into your kiss, like he’s the one coming undone.

When you break the kiss to suck in air, he presses his forehead to yours, voice rough in your ear.

“That’s it. Let go for me.”

You do.

Your body arches, thighs trembling as the orgasm washes over you sharp and fast. Your fingers dig into his back, into his top, into anything that keeps you tethered.

He doesn’t stop until you’re gasping, twitching, pushing his hand away because you’re too sensitive now.

He pulls back finally, breath warm against your skin, his fingers wet. He looks at you, gaze heavy, lips parted.

Then, without a word, he brings his fingers to your mouth.

“Open,” he says, low and steady.

You blink at him, your body still humming, brain half-melted. “What—?”

He brushes two slick fingers against your bottom lip, and your mouth parts on instinct.

“You said no thank yous,” he says, smirking. “So this’ll do.”

You glare at him, but your lips close around his fingers anyway. He watches every second — the way your mouth wraps around them, the way your tongue slides against the pads. His expression flickers from cocky to wrecked.

“Shit,” he mutters, voice rough now, the smugness cracking around the edges.

You suck once, slow and purposeful, eyes locked on his, and he jerks slightly under you — hips twitching like your mouth is on him instead. When you pull off with a soft pop, your lips are swollen and wet.

“You said mutual help,” you murmur, breath still catching on the end of every word. “It’s your turn.”

He blinks, like he’s short-circuiting.

You slide off his lap slowly, hands dragging down his chest, and his breath catches when you settle between his legs on your knees. You palm him over his jeans, and he hisses, already hard under your touch.

“Fuck,” he mutters, head tipping back.

“You okay there?” you ask, voice sweet, taunting. “Or do you need me to go slower?”

He looks down at you, pupils blown, jaw clenched. “Don’t be a brat.”

You unbutton his jeans, real slow, enjoying the way he twitches under your hands. “No promises.”

You drag the zipper down, tugging his jeans and boxers low enough to free him. He’s flushed and heavy, tip already glistening, and you swear you see his hips flex at just the sight of your mouth this close.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “You look way too good down there.”

You wrap your hand around his cock, giving one slow stroke, and he groans like it surprises him.

You start slow. Just your hand. Thumb brushing over the sensitive ridge under the head, watching his thighs tense beneath your touch. His head drops back against the couch cushion, and you feel the way his hips subtly shift toward you, like his body’s trying to chase more without him even realising it.

You lean in and lick a slow stripe from base to tip, tongue flat, deliberate. His breath catches — then shudders out of him like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs.

“Shit,” he mutters again, voice strained.

You hum like you agree, and wrap your lips around the head, just barely. You suck, not hard — just enough to make him twitch. Your hand works in tandem, slow, steady strokes, and your mouth follows, inching lower until the tip presses against the back of your throat.

He moans, raw and wrecked. “Fuck, baby—”

The pet name is barely more than a gasp, almost like it slipped out without permission. Your stomach flips at the sound it.

His voice borders on the line of sounding pathetic, and it makes you want to press your thighs together.

You fall into rhythm — your lips sliding over him, tongue pressed firm underneath, hand twisting where your mouth leaves off. Every now and then, you let yourself get sloppy. Let the sound of it echo between you, let him hear what he’s doing to you.

He’s falling apart above you. You can tell by the way his hand flexes and releases in your hair, the way his thighs tremble every time you sink a little deeper. He’s breathing hard now, jaw slack, eyes barely open. Watching you. Like he still can’t believe this is real.

“God, your mouth—” His voice cuts off into a moan when you swallow around him, deep and slow. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You pull off just long enough to breathe, lips slick, chin wet. “You deserve it.”

He laughs, but it breaks halfway through. Your hand doesn’t stop moving.

“You like watching me fall apart, huh?”

You look up through your lashes, tongue flicking over the head. “More than a little.”

You go back down — deeper this time — and he chokes on a groan. His hips jerk up too sharply and he curses, hands fisting hard in your hair.

“Shit— I’m—” He’s panting now, thighs shaking. “I’m not gonna last if you keep— fuck, don’t—”

You suck harder, then moan around him just to hear the sound he makes. It’s almost a whimper.

“Baby, stop— wait— fuck— please—”

You pull off with a wet pop just before he tips over the edge, lips red and swollen, saliva clinging to your chin. He’s barely keeping it together. Chest heaving, flushed to the neck, cock twitching where it rests against his stomach.

“You were right there,” you say, feigning innocence, voice soft and ruined.

“Exactly," he says, sitting up. "I'm not done with you yet."

He drags the fabric of his top over his head, tossing it aside without a second thought. The moment it’s off, your breath catches.

Fuck.

He’s all golden skin and sharp lines, chest heaving, abs flexing with every breath. His tattoos curl over his shoulder and down his arm, black ink stark against flushed skin. His cock’s still hard, flushed dark, resting against his stomach, twitching when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

And you — still kneeling between his legs — can’t look away.

Then you rise, shaky but determined, and pull your top over your head, letting it fall. His eyes snap to your chest, lips parting like he’s just been punched in the gut. You're movements are purposefully slow as you pull down your jeans, then your panties.

“Jesus,” he mutters, eyes dragging down your body. “You’re a fucking dream.”

You crawl back into his lap, your bare skin meeting his, and the contact makes both of you gasp. You straddle him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he groans the moment your heat presses against his cock.

He fumbles for a condom, pulling it out from an inner pocket in the jacket he’d draped onto the couch earlier.

You watch as he tears it open and rolls it on, fingers practiced but tense. You reach between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance, and the second his tip slides against your soaked folds, his grip tightens on your hips.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice shaking.

You sink down slowly, inch by thick inch, and your nails bite into his shoulders as you stretch around him. He’s big — your pussy gripping him tight, wet and pulsing as he fills you up. Every nerve lights up, every breath gets harder to catch.

“Holy fuck—” His head drops to your chest, groaning against your skin. “You’re so tight. So fucking warm. Gonna make me lose it.”

You whimper as you bottom out, walls fluttering around him. You can feel every vein, every twitch. It’s almost too much. Almost.

But not enough.

You start to move — slow, dragging lifts of your hips, circling them on the way back down. He watches, hands clamped on your ass, guiding the grind of your body like he already knows how to make you fall apart again.

You ride him, pace picking up fast, desperate. Every time your hips drop, the base of his cock grinds against your clit, slick sounds filling the room with every slap of skin against skin. His cock hits deep, stretching you wide, and a moan passes your lips.

He groans are low and guttural, eyes locked to where your bodies meet. “Goddamn, baby. Watching you fuck yourself on my cock— shit— never gonna forget this.”

You’re panting now, thighs burning, rhythm faltering. You try to keep going, but your legs are shaking.

He notices.

Without a word, he shifts under you, plants his feet flat on the floor, and grabs your hips tight.

“Let me help you, yeah?”

You nod. “Please.”

He starts thrusting up into you.

You cry out, spine arching, hands flying to his shoulders to hold on as he fucks you from underneath, sharp and deep. His hips snap up into you, cock pressing into your sweet spot over and over again.

The new angle is obscene. Filthy.

“Fuck, Jungkook— holy shit—”

He smirks up at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. “That’s it. Take it, baby. Look at you— so cockdrunk already.”

Your pussy clenches around him, soaked and messy, and the sound of it is downright pornographic. His balls slap against your ass with every brutal thrust, and you can’t even think anymore. Just feel.

Your head falls back, hips rocking with his. “W-we’re still best friends, right, Kook?”

His rhythm stutters, hips slamming up too hard, too deep, and his jaw drops slightly like he’s not sure if he actually heard you right. His pupils are blown, face flushed, and he stares at you like you just kicked the last brain cell out of his skull.

“What the fuck,” he pants. “You can’t say that. Not when I’m— fuck— inside you.”

You whimper, walls clenching around him like your body’s reacting to how wrecked he sounds.

“That’s so fucked up,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Say it again and I might actually come on the spot.”

You huff out a weak laugh at that, hands tangling in his hair, and he groans, fucking you harder, deeper — like he needs to wipe the thought of friendship off your brain with every snap of his hips.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp. “So close, fuck— don’t stop—”

He doesn’t. One hand slips between your bodies, fingers rubbing tight, fast circles over your clit while he pounds into you. You sob his name, hips stuttering, body locking up.

“Come on,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you squeeze me.”

That’s all it takes.

You break with a cry, body clamping down around him as your orgasm hits like a fucking freight train. Your pussy pulses around his cock, milking him, soaking him, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.

He slows just a little — just enough to let you ride it out — but he doesn’t pull out. He’s still hard inside you, jaw tight, eyes blown wide.

You collapse forward, panting into his neck, spent.

His hands slide down your spine, warm and possessive. “You good?”

You nod, still breathless. “Yeah. Jesus.”

"Good." He swiftly lifts you off him just enough to slip out, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But he doesn’t give you time to think.

He shifts, guiding you onto your back, his body following yours down to the couch. His hands frame your face as he settles between your legs, and when he presses back into you — thick and hard.

His eyes roam over you like he’s never seen anything more obscene or more beautiful. Your lips are swollen, parted in a messy moan. There’s a faint smudge of mascara under one eye from when you’d cried out his name, and your skin’s glowing — sweaty, flushed, wrecked.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he says, voice gone rough. “All fucked out for me.”

You pull him down into a kiss before you can think. It’s open-mouthed, greedy, teeth clashing a little. His hips start to move again, slow at first — long, deep thrusts that make your breath catch every time he bottoms out.

You wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back to pull him deeper. His chest brushes yours, sticky skin against sticky skin, and your nails rake down his back.

He gasps into your mouth. “Fuck—”

“More,” you breathe, nails dragging again, leaving angry red lines down the muscle of his back. “Please.”

His hips snap harder, pace picking up again. He braces one hand beside your head and the other slides up your thigh, gripping tight enough to bruise. Your body rocks with every thrust, his cock slamming into you, the slap of his hips against yours louder now.

“You feel that?” he grits out, forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping down his temple. “How tight you are around me? Fuck— I’m so deep, baby, you’re taking me so fucking good.”

You moan loud at his words, head falling back against the cushions.

He kisses down your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breast — open-mouthed, wet kisses that make your skin burn. Then he’s back at your mouth, kissing you like it’s the only way he knows how to breathe.

He watches you with the kind of hunger that makes your stomach flip, watching how your brows pinch, how your mouth trembles, how you twitch around him with every stroke like you’re on the edge all over again.

And fuck, you are.

“Touch me,” you gasp, voice raw. “Kook, please—”

His fingers snake down your stomach, rubbing tight, perfect circles against your clit, synced with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cry out, thighs shaking around his waist, and he just watches — eyes dark and wild, like he can’t believe what he’s doing to you.

You clench hard around him, and he curses, slamming into you deeper, grinding at the end of each stroke.

“Gonna come again?” he pants. “Wanna come on my cock like that, baby? Let me feel you soak me?”

You’re nodding before he finishes, tears prickling in your eyes from how fucking intense it is. “Yes— yes, fuck, don’t stop—”

He kisses you as you fall apart — moaning into your mouth, swallowing every sound. You come again, whole body seizing around him. Your nails dig in, and he hisses at the pain, thrusting through it, fucking you right through the high.

When it ebbs, your body goes limp under him, chest heaving, lips swollen, slick dripping between your thighs.

Jungkook fucks into you again — slow, deep, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you pulsing around him. His breath stutters, muscles drawn tight, every thrust rougher than the last.

“I’m not gonna last,” he pants, voice wrecked.

You bring your hands up to his hair, lightly tugging at his locks as you whisper, “Wanna feel you.”

He chokes on a moan, slamming into you one final time as he comes hard, cock twitching deep inside as he fills the condom.

His arms shake, muscles locked tight, and his face is buried in your neck as he rides it out, breath ragged, skin flushed and burning. You feel every pulse of it, every tremble in his frame, and all you can do is hold him there — legs wrapped tight around his waist, arms tangled around his shoulders, your nails still leaving stinging trails across his skin.

He presses kisses against your neck and jaw, eventually trailing up to your lips before pulling back to just look at you.

"I— you're perfect."

You smile, a familiar warmth enveloping your cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, you can stop with the flattery."

But he doesn’t smile back right away. He just watches you, quiet. Like he’s still catching up to the weight of what just happened. What’s still happening.

His hand drifts to your waist, thumb brushing lazily over your damp skin. “Let me run you a bath.”

You blink. “A bath?”

He nods, lips brushing your temple. “Yeah. You’re shaky. And I kinda wrecked you.”

You snort, catching the smugness in his voice. “What happened to, ‘Shit, baby, if you don’t stop I’m gonna come down your throat’?”

He groans, laughing. “Okay, first of all— rude. Second, I don’t sound like that.”

“Mm, you definitely do.”

He pinches your side lightly. “Keep talking, I’ll re-enact it right now.”

You shut up. But you’re smiling.

He stands a moment later, disappearing into the bathroom. You hear the water running, the soft clatter of bottles, his voice humming something low and familiar.

When he comes back, he tosses you a towel and holds out a hand, that same easy smile on his face. The one you’ve known forever. The one that makes everything feel… normal.

Even now.

You lace your fingers with his, let him pull you up.

Your legs are jelly. His hand doesn’t let go.

And as you follow him into the bathroom, skin still marked by his touch, lips still swollen from his kiss, a quiet thought flickers at the edge of your mind.

You guys were still best friends.

Right?

→ read part two here (coming soon — join the taglist for ‘just this… twice?’ to be notified when part two releases)

taglist | click here to join: @thegreatdepressionme @golden-loona @kissyfacekoo @cookysstuff @whoa-jo @minghaosimp

[eraserbread]

Pleaseeeee, I'm begging you.... I need to know how Nanami react when his wife finally tell him she's pregnant and his not crazy this whole time.

click 4 context :)

nanami swears he's never seen you eat deep-fried... anything. it wasn't that you weren't keen; it just never fell into your lap. whenever you two ate outside of home, you found yourself walking hand-in-hand through the doors of your favorite hole-in-the-wall ramen shop.

but, tonight, you begged him. nearly cried with a jutted lip for something you never had, but doom-scrolled past on social media.

now you're sitting in front of him, back straight as an arrow as you uncharacteristically shovel steaming-hot slices of gyukatsu between your glossed lips.

he watches you hardly, flicking his eyes every few moments to catch the way your lips shake, or how you do that stupid little happy dance when you get the perfect bite. he's tending to his curried rice, eating slowly—your exact opposite. he smiles to himself, letting the table remain quiet with your content hums until you bite your tongue and whine out.

"slow down, my love." he speaks after swallowing his bite, leaning back. he can see the slight flush heading across your familiar neck as you react to his buttery voice.

"i'm so sorry. how impolite of me."

"well, i don't care much. just don't want you to burn or... bite yourself further." he nodding towards the sizzling hot stone just in your reach—a dangerous pairing with your eagerness.

flushed under fluttering gold lighting, kento swears you're beaming just a bit stronger. there's a tint to your cheeks that isn't usually there, a gleam that didn't exist until a month ago. he furrows his eyebrows.

"don't stare!"

"thank you for indulging me tonight." you smile as he bends at the knee to remove your shoes at your doorway. you're leaning a hand on the frame, body and mind full of wagyu and kento. "I know you've had a long day at work."

"long day or not, when you tell me you want something..." he pauses, grunting as he stands. "I listen. always. well, most likely."

you giggle, reaching up to hold the back of his neck. the small buzz of his undercut feels fuzzy and familiar—like home. "you're a good husband."

you don't notice, but kento does. the small lisp you give him in speech—he knows it's from your bruised tongue—he hums. "does it hurt a lot? your poor tongue?"

shaking your head, you're smiling. "no... yes... a little bit."

"may I see?" he's so close to you that his words bounce off of your lips like smog—so salty and warm. you nod immediately, always letting him in. "open up."

you're giggling again. "yes, sir." then you keep them parted, dropping your jaw so he can see inside of your warm mouth. you can hear his breathing in the closeness, the drag of his voice against his vocal cords as he inspects.

it's when he presses his finger against the side of your tongue, does it hit you. a debilitating, familiar wave of dizziness. then, you're weak and dipping, knees falling.

right before kento catches you with a single-arm hold on your back, he doesn't make a sound, but the look on his face is terrified. "nanami? are you okay? can you stand?"

it takes you a moment to focus, but his words make it easier. you shake your head, gently. "must've been the exertion."

"why don't you go sit? i'll bring you something, would you like tea?"

"i would love it. thank you."

so, he trusts your balance, but he lets you go like he's nervous. it's only to walk to the couch, but it seems as if you just can't catch your footing. then, you stall and lean to the side—he rushes you, sweeping you up in a cradle.

"no. straight to bed."

"i'm sorry." you whine, burying your head in the pillow when he places you on the mattress.

"i'm calling the doctor now. i've never seen you like this." he's keeping his promise in his perfect timing, scrolling through his contact list with a shaking head. you're staring up at him in horror, heart hammering in your chest, because you don't need a doctor. you know what's wrong.

"n-no, please don't... it's so late."

"doctors take call just like i do." then, he finds it, and just before his thumb presses that shiny green 'call now' button, you're stuffing your face into the pillow, letting it muffle your breathing.

"i'm pregnant." you whine into the fluff, hands twisted tight in the material. you hope he can't hear you, but it's far too late to take it back.

"hm?" kento heard you. crystal fucking clear. but, he's doing that unsure little eyebrow cock, thumb shaking as it hovers over his phone. "what?" he repeats.

"p-pregnant... i'm pregnant." it feels like lava pouring from your soul, so white-hot and shameful, because you've been hiding it for well over two months.

he scoffs, putting his phone down and burying his forehead in his big hand. there's a smirk there—very slight. you don't see it. "ah, well... yes, I suppose that explains it... all."

"please don't be mad at me, it's your fault."

"mine? how?"

"if you just..." you're still talking into the pillow, letting it do the heavy lifting. "you're always on top of me; it's like I can't keep you away."

kento laughs again, it's the most joyless sound that sparks so much within you. he nods, then sits down right next to you, smoothing a hand over the swell of your hips. "if it were possible to choose, i'd like to die on top of you—or inside of you."

"not funny." you're on the verge of tears, feeling the hormonal angst hit you like a ton of bricks.

kento clicks his teeth, then pushes your shoulder to get your flushed face free. "I wasn't trying to be... look, I am not mad-the direct opposite, actually." he's whispering, tracing that hand over your face. you're so warm, so free, now. "I am so happy. relieved that it wasn't something else, too."

"but i'm so scared."

"that's okay. so am i... both happy and scared and relieved; in love with you, your ways, and your spirit." that hand trails back down your side, then it rests right over your lower stomach, thumb rubbing across the covered skin. "and this little one we created together." when he presses, he can feel the firmness that wasn't usually there. "I don't think we will be very good at first, but i'd like it very much if we taught each other how to be the gentlest parents possible."

now, you're crying. it's falling in waves and buckets, snotting up your pillow and eliciting embarrassing sounds from your throat. you're kicking your feet, so built up and unsure where to expel it. "whyyyy," you sob, reaching to twist your smaller fist in his shirt. "why would you say that to me? I'm gonna explode—it's so-

"what are you talking about?" he cuts you off, cradling your clenched fist to his chest. he really just wants to wipe those tears away and make love, but he's kind of... afraid. you'll probably bite him just like your tongue.

"when you talk to me like that... it's so... i can feel it."

"hm... do you think our baby can feel it? i wonder if she can hear us."

"she? i feel like it's a boy."

"no." he whispers, shaking his head, and so sweetly purrs, "definitely a girl."

[umikawa]

a/n: rebrand? Nah, coming to terms 🙏 the second i started watching dr stone when it came out i knew id be locked in with bro 💪 it just took me 5/6 years to realize how much i loved this guy 😭

Senku Ishigami x gn!reader | no major warnings, no spoilers just ooc-ish fluff ٩( 'ω' )و | italics are flashbacks!

“Do you miss anything?” You ask quietly, taking your place beside him like you always have. “From the modern world.”

Senku keeps his eyes on the stars above him, resting his hands on his waist. “Only the tools of my trade.” He says in his typical lackluster manner. “Though it’s obvious there are many things I can consider missing, a good bowl of ramen is one of them.” He huffs, shuddering lightly as he remembers the taste of his stone world ramen.

A chuckle slips into the silence, and Senku’s eyes travel to you at the sound. He'd say he'd missed this if he could admit it out loud. Standing with you at the highest point he’d will himself to hike to, staring at the stars and talking with you aimlessly.

But now that he has it again, is it right to say he missed it?

In his ten years of knowing you– the first few being forced upon him, but he won’t hold you to that– Senku has never been dishonest with you. His blunt truths never allowed him to.

“What do you think of this person? They asked me out!” You came to him one day, spinning around in his desk chair, stupidly showing him a photo since he couldn’t see it because of your spinning.

“They’re an idiot, you can do better than that.” He’d said it everytime, that the person was not smart enough for you, or even pointing out blatant flaws as he examined any photo you’d show him.

But Senku would never admit the only person he thought suited you was himself.

Or in another instance, where he wasn’t lying to you.

One day in the summer, he’d been dragged along by Byakuya and yourself out into the hot sun. The act alone was enough to sour his mood, but Senku knew to hide his disdain the moment he saw your excited smile.

A rental car with a mound of supplies tied to the top came into his vision, and he’d deduced it immediately. “Absolutely not.” He’d said, turning around to go back to the apartment.

“Come on, Senku!” Byakuya exclaims, holding his hands out in excitement. “This is perfect in law bonding!”

You shout at the implication, slapping Byakuya’s chest. “Excuse me! What makes you think I’ll be your in-law!”

Senku mentally groans at the conversation, maybe if he just got into the car you’d drop the topic. “Because he knows you’re the only person I can stand.” He says, climbing into the backseat without haste. “If I had to marry anyone it’d ought to be you.”

You freeze at his words, feeling your face flush at his insinuation that he’d marry you out of all people. “Right, sure.” You squeaked, pulling open your door. “I guess I could say the same.”

His eyes widened before he smirked, covering his mouth with his hand. “Idiot.”

Well, Senku guessed he was lying, seeing as he’d married Ruri. But he had reasons behind his spur of the moment action. It doesn’t count. Plus he got divorced thirty-seconds after.

A gentle hand brushing against his cheek brings him out of his daze, how long had he been daydreaming? His eyes focus in on you, your brows furrowed with confusion, eyes laced with concern, and your lips parted slightly as you breathed.

Your lips, Senku wasn’t sure of it– why he was so entranced by them whenever you spoke. There had to have been some scientific explanation behind his attraction to them, it was an odd part of someone to be obsessed with after all.

His hands move before his brain for the first time, cold fingers brush against the edges of your lips, tracing and rubbing against the curve of your cupid's bow. They were the perfect color in his eyes, and despite the lack of proper chapstick, they were soft to the touch.

“Senku?” You whispered, heartbeat racing as his eyes focused on your mouth.

It was uncharacteristic of him to do this, he never initiated touch, let alone one as intimate as this. Your whole lives the phrase ‘love is illogical’ had been engraved in your mind, even that day when he said he’d marry you if he had to, you knew it was only one for the papers, not for the heart.

But you knew that there was a part of him that would marry you because he loved you.

In this moment, you come to terms that maybe you were right after all. His rough fingers tracing over your lips made you realize, he’d never do this with anyone else, only you. Every touch he’d accept had only come from you.

The hugs of congratulations and parting, the holding of hands in a crowded area to not lose one another, the cuddles to keep warm when a storm blew the power and heating. Senku only allowed them because it was you.

“I missed you.” He says. And again, you couldn’t help but call out the peculiar behavior from him. He chuckles softly, you could’ve mistaken it for a scoff but his eyes tell you it’s nothing of the sort.

His eyes. Of course. There were scientific explanations for the attraction to them, sort of at least. They were the windows to the soul, the very plane that foretold a person’s true emotions.

Senku’s vermillion eyes had always been your favorite part of him. They were the first thing you’d noticed when meeting him all those years ago, and they were the last thing you saw before the world turned to stone.

Ones that had never held any malice towards you, ones that held timid adoration when looking at you, ones that told you Senku Ishigami loved you.

His hand moves to your cheek, brushing his fingertips carefully over your petrification cracks, your eyes had fluttered shut as his touch made way to your brow bone.

Why was he doing this? A question neither of you could answer, one you’d have to come to terms with in the morning when you woke. Though with the rampant beating in both of your chests, you doubted you’d be getting any sleep tonight.

“Your skin is softer than it was in the modern world.” He says suddenly, making you open your eyes to look at him. “Guess all those chemicals you were putting on your face don’t work as well as primitive soap.”

“Those ‘chemicals’ were given to me by you after you’d spent days holed up in a lab trying to perfect a formula.” You said, quoting his word usage. “So who’s really at fault here?”

Senku chuckles at your snide reply, “I made both, let’s call it redemption.” His hand was still on your face, he didn’t realize how warm it had gotten until now, but he didn't make any move to tease you about it.

Your eyes flutter shut again as you lean into his palm, and if he wasn’t looking at you, he’d have missed the sight of you pressing a chaste, featherlight, kiss to his palm.

Right, you’ve never felt the need to hide your feelings towards him.

His brows scrunch together as he tries to figure out what to do next. He knew that engaging in anything more than friendship– though even that was risky enough–was dangerous to both you and him.

“You’ll have to wait for me a little longer.” He says, smiling when you look at him. “I’m sure you’ll be able to handle that though.”

Your arms wrap around his torso, chest warming at the feeling of his arms holding you against him. “I’ve waited three-thousand-years, what’s a little more?”

[bywons]

ꔫ GO AHEAD AND CRY, LITTLE GIRL ( enhypen )

⌕ where you cry in their arms

pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 1.05k tw/cw. none really genre. fluff sru's note. requested! help i don't think i did a good job with this one ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !

LEE HEESEUNG can feel his heart breaking at the sight, his one and only love, his pretty girl sobbing into her hands in front of him, the cause still unknown. but he doesn't waste any time and pulls you into his embrace, your soft plump cheeks strained with tears pressed to his broad and snug chest, salty tears dampening his beige sweatshirt but that's the last thing that he cares about right now. he shushes you, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other softly stroking your back, in the utmost hope that you'll eventually stop crying. cause every tear that spills out of those pretty eyes of yours, it hammers lee heeseung's heart. would press soft kisses on top of your head until you calm down, along with his hug around you closing in tighter. when you calm down, he'll wipe away all the tears and make you a comforting hot bowl of ramen <3

PARK JONGSEONG drops whatever task he's doing, no matter how trivial or significant, and rushes to you the second he hears something as slight as a sniffle from you. and even when he's not close enough to be seen or called for, jay is one call away. has the biggest “and i crumble completely when you cry” energy. literally pulls you into his lap the second he sees the smallest drop of tears on your face. rocks both your bodies back and forth while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, his hand simultaneously working and massaging your scalp. he literally doesn't even stop for a second until your sobs have completely died down, and even then he rocks you both back and forth while whispering about your problems, while you rest in his lap with your hands and cheeks pressed against his warm chest. jay still doesn't return to his aborted work and don't you dare ask him about it, cause you're way more important.

SIM JAEYUN puts on the saddest face with the biggest pout, literally becoming a puppy face. caresses your face and cradles it between his hands, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist. gets so worried when he sees you sobbing, at one point he gets insecure of being a bad boyfriend, always thinks he did something wrong. jake would press soft feathery kisses all over your face and right when you give the smallest upward twitch of lips, he'll literally attack you with tickles! jake just wants to hear you laugh and wants joy to stick to you forever. brings layla to you too <//3 so that all three of you can cuddle together while he just rambles random things to your now sleeping figure.

PARK SUNGHOON takes a bit of time to process the scene in front of him when you break into sobs, don't get him wrong but he's just disheartened at the sight of your tear stricken cheeks and red puffy eyes. if he's still foreign to it, it would take him some time to approach you in your sobbing fit but if not he's quick to act. but eventually picks you up and makes you sit in front of him at the edge of the bed. if you don't want to talk it out then he'll pull you closer until your heads’ on his shoulders, his hands creeping up beneath your shirt to draw random doodles on your back while you calm down in his embrace <3 sunghoon definitely kisses your cheeks a lot, until you're giggling from his kisses, and then and only then is he relieved. makes sure to ask what was wrong after.

KIM SEONWOO almost cries along with you, the soft and choked sounds of your sobs and your salty damp cheeks overwhelms him. immediately wraps you in his embrace, practically burying you in it. with glossy eyes, he tries to shush you up with an accompanied series of kisses to your cheeks, forehead and lips. when you're crying away in his arms, he'll play with your hair, braiding them only to untangle them and braid them again. gives you all the comfort in the world; he even brings your favourite plushies— that he won for you at the arcade— to you and wraps you in the warm, thick duvet. he giggles at the cute scenario in front of him, before tackling you in his arms and bombarding your face with soft kisses. definitely eats mint choco with you later.

YANG JUNGWON being the reserved and calm man(leader too) he is, he would hand you a glass of water immediately when he sees streams of tears flow down your cheeks. doesn't waste a second after that, wiping away your tears from your cheeks and pulling you into his embrace, stroking your back in a soft rhythm which makes your eyes flutter close. the smell of his cologne is mellow, which drives your nerves slowly and calms you down in his embrace. jungwon hugs you tighter and presses occasional kisses to your shoulders and forehead, just to let you know he's still here, all ears to listen to whatever's wrong. lays down with you, his head resting still upon his chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heartbeat through his grey sweatshirt while he asks you what's wrong. his caresses don't stop even for a second while he lays with you, listening to your heart.

NISHIKURA RIKI ‘s heart melts when you break down like that, #2 at the “and I crumble completely when you cry” energy, don't ask me why. but our boys’ not nervous at all! he loves his girlfriend dearly and always has a trick up his sleeve whenever the smallest inconvenience comes across. rushes to you and hugs you so tight that at one point you swore you couldn't breathe. that is when riki thankfully lets you off his grip and pulls you closer, until your back is pressed to his chest. now it's time for nishimura riki to pull his trick out! girlfriend 101: when y/n's crying, show her cute cat videos. your have died down soon enough after riki holds his phone before your eyes, a random cat compilation video playing. he doesn't forget his cuddles though, literally becomes plush to you while you both stream cat videos that whole day.

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini nets! @/k-labels

[kenzdolls]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING SHOTO TODOROKI:

he probably notices you studying in the common room, always meticulously organized. he respects the dedication.

if your quirk is related to warmth or fire, he's automatically wary but intrigued. he'll observe you carefully, trying to understand how you control it.

accidental encounters are his weakness. bumping into you in the hallway, dropping his soba… he'll apologize profusely, then retreat into himself.

he appreciates directness. if you're the one to initiate conversation, he'll be surprised but relieved. small talk isn't his forte, so dive into a topic he can actually discuss.

if you're good at reading people, you'll notice the subtle shift in his eyes when he acknowledges you. it shows he's paying attention, even if he doesn't say much.

he is most likely to have met you because you were partnered up in class together for hero training. he was surprised you weren't afraid.

he first thinks you're pretty when he sees you smile; he hasn't seen you smile, though, but he believes your smile is worth protecting.

he finds himself having to protect you in class a lot, but you're strong for yourself.

SHOTO CRUSHING ON YOU:

he doesn't understand the warm feeling in his chest when you are near him. he wonders if he’s sick so he asks recovery girl but she just gives him a knowing look and tells him to ‘rest’.

he wants to understand your quirk better, not just from a strategic point of view, but because he wants to understand you.

soba dates become a 'thing' because it's a comfortable, neutral ground. he's happy to share his favorite spot, and secretly pleased if you enjoy it too.

jf you tease him, he'll get flustered and look away, a slight blush creeping up his neck. it's adorable.

he starts using his fire side more in training to impress you, but he's also scared of hurting you.

training with you becomes something he looks forward to. he really enjoys analyzing your fighting style and strategizing with you.

he starts noticing the little things about you – the way you laugh, the way you concentrate, the little quirks that make you you.

he secretly asks fuyumi for advice on how to be a better friend, making her extremely happy.

if he sees others being rude or disrespectful to you, a flicker of cold fury passes over his face. he'll step in, but subtly.

he starts spacing out in class and ends up getting in trouble.

he asks you to show him your quirk again.

his resting face is now soft when he is around you, and it makes everyone notice.

DATING SHOTO TODOROKI:

dates are quiet, thoughtful, and often involve food of some kind. he likes taking you to hidden ramen shops or quiet parks.

physical affection is something he's still learning. he might start with gentle touches like holding your hand or putting an arm around you.

he worries constantly about his father. he will never be a man like him, and he is afraid you will think he will be like him.

he loves cuddling you. he's warm and cold at the same time, so you're always at the perfect temperature.

he'll open up about his family, but it takes time and trust. be patient and listen without judgment.

he wants to protect you and keep you safe, but he also respects your strength and independence.

he’ll bring you small gifts – a flower he found in the garden, a limited-edition soba flavor, or a book he thinks you'll enjoy.

he listens intently when you talk and remembers everything you say. he shows he cares by paying attention.

comforting him after a nightmare about his past might involve a hug and a promise to stay by his side.

he burns himself on purpose in order to feel something other than the burning desire he has for you.

he will do his best to be your partner despite his anxieties and worries. he will make sure to put you first.

he will always cook soba for you, and he will always ask you what he can do to be better.

he will be flustered when you kiss him, but he will kiss you back.

his favorite thing is listening to you ramble about books that you love.

he gives his whole heart to you and trusts you will take care of it.

he'll get jealous, but he won't show it... just expect extra cuddles and attention to you that day.

he's very protective of you and makes sure you're comfortable in every situation. he will be your safe haven.

he loves to hold your hand, especially if you're nervous or scared. it's his way of grounding you.

he will make sure to show how much he loves you.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

[c-monthecob]

You x Hanma Headcanons!

(I'm not good with fluffy stuff, so sorry if this sucks)

🚬You're lying in bed asleep or getting ready to and he'll send you a text saying "Get dressed. We're going out." No warning whatsoever.

🚬You think it'll be a romantic night, but nope! You're watching him try to pick the lock on a claw machine to get you a teddy bear.

🚬After the owner kicks you out, the two of you sit on a curb outside a convenience store, splitting ramen because neither of you had enough money for a second cup.

🚬Cannot drive the speed limit without his skin itching.

🚬He took you out on a late-night ride and was speeding the entire time.

🚬When he got pulled over, he said, "Is this a bad time to tell you that my license is suspended?"

🚬You suggested going bowling, thinking there was no way he could ruin a date at a bowling alley, right?

🚬He tried to show off his strength by throwing a ball down the alley and ended up hitting one of the TVs. (You're not allowed there anymore.)

🚬He has a habit of suggesting going out to eat, but in the middle of eating, he'll be like, "I'll pay you back later." You stop eating and stare at him. "I thought you were paying?"

🚬 The restaurant has both your pictures up labeled as diners and dashers.

🚬 Tried to do a backflip off a table to impress you, but the table toppled over and he cracked his back on the edge.

🚬 He doesn't hug you. He drapes himself over you, knowing full well how heavy he is.

🚬 Randomly puts you in a headlock to "Keep you on your toes."

🚬 If he kisses you, it'll be random. You never know when he'll do it, but when he does, he'll walk away like nothing happened.

🚬 Sticks his finger into your mouth whenever you yawn.

🚬 He'll lean in, making it look like he'll kiss you, but he'll belch in your face instead. (And it stinks)

🚬 Purposefully leaves doors wide open and pretends he can't hear you yelling at him to close the door.

🚬 Not a single picture of you in his camera roll is a good one. He knows damn well he could take better pictures, but he chooses not to.

🚬 Don't bother asking him to delete them either. "But you look so cute with a bedhead!" or "Who cares if you can see your double chin from this angle?"

🚬 Whenever you're trying to make a decision, he'll be in your ear saying, "Are you sure?" to fuck with you.

🚬 Makes those obnoxious biting sounds whenever you take a bite of food.

🚬 If you stuff your plate he'll shout "DAMN" loud asf and pull out his phone to take a picture.

🚬 He'll show up at your place with a boombox blasting music. Not to be romantic, just to be annoying.

🚬 He convinced you to skip school before. The day ended with your parents having to pick you up from the police station.  

🚬 Thrives off the fact that your parents hate him. When he picks you up, he'll shout, "Hi, Mr and Mrs. L/n! What wonderful weather we're having, right?" In the most sarcastic voice ever.

🚬 Bought you two matching lighters. (Even if you don't smoke.)

🚬If you say you want to try smoking, he'll tell you, "Pretty girls don't smoke."

🚬 If he sees you liking or commenting on another guy's post, he'll send you a screenshot saying, "Feeling friendly today, aren't we?"

🚬 Leans over to look at your phone screen and says stuff like "Who are we texting?"

🚬 If you're laughing at something on your phone, he'll be like "I wanna laugh too."

🚬Tell him you're going out with a guy friend, he'll be sarcastic asf about it. "Okay, have fun with your boyfriend!" "Want me to drop you off? I'll let him know that you're single."

🚬If another guy compliments you, he makes a show about it. "Wow. That was great. Maybe you should write her a poem next time!"

🚬Texts you in the middle of hangouts: "Hope you're having fun because I'm not…" "It's okay. I wouldn't wanna be around me either…"

[h4ndwr1tten]

neighbor!toji x reader

this went on longer than i had planned...

cw: mentions of having a boyfriend, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of violence, strong language, kinda suggestive? also toji seems very ooc, he was the first person to come to mind when i thought of this. pretend he has money :D

neighbor!toji who is the only person to not welcome you to your new apartment. he only ever comes out at night and returns at the crack of dawn, so it made sense.

neighbor!toji who shut the door on your face when you tried to introduce yourself to him with the intention of asking for some eggs.

neighbor!toji who was so confused as to why you'd still flash him smiles or greet him good morning or goodnight when he had shown no interest in befriending you.

despite that fact pissing you off, you still tried your best to show no hostility in hopes of at least gaining some mutual respect. you valued your neighbors, you never know when you'd need them.

neighbor!toji who is surprised to see you bring a guy to your apartment. he wasn't surprised that you pulled someone—no, you were absolutely gorgeous, so it made sense. he was surprised by the nasty feeling that crawled into his ribcage after seeing you and him.

he figures it's your boyfriend, as he's been coming to your place for a good two months now. moreover, he's heard the moans (mostly male), groans (also mostly male), and the banging of the bed against the wall every few days.

the sound pisses him off. he becomes irrational and stops functioning.

neighbor!toji who, as he's stepping out for the night, sees you struggling to jam your key into the keyhole. he hears your sniffles and choked back sobs, watching you grow frustrated over the door. the keys fall from your shaking hands, which cover your eyes as you can no longer stifle your cries.

he walks over to you and picks up the keys, opening your door and carefully leading you in. you can't even manage to thank him, but he doesn't mind.

neighbor!toji who realizes he despises seeing you cry. he wasn't even your friend, but hearing and watching you only fed that nasty feeling that made its home in his chest, the one that would only ever come out around you.

he knocks on your door the next morning, a bag of groceries in his hand. he doesn't know what compelled him to buy things he thought, hoped would make you feel better. he's never made any move to speak to you, and he prays that you don't find it weird or turn him down now.

a click sounds from the other side of the door before opening, revealing a puffy, red-eyed you.

"toji?" you mutter, wiping your pink, tear-streaked cheeks. "what's going on?"

he stares at you, figuring out what to say without sounding like a desperate weirdo. what was he even desperate for?

"uh... i got ya snacks," he hands you the bag. "thought it'd make y'feel better."

you look down at the bag, seeing some of your favorite chips and sweets. did he notice those frequently being in your grocery bags every time you went shopping?

you tear up and bite your lip as you take the bag from him, attempting to smile out of gratitude.

"thanks, toji."

from then on, neighbor!toji offers you things every time you're upset. when he hears you cry through the thin walls, he'd bring you ramen or a movie he'd think you'd like, because he doesn't want to see you cry.

and because his heart sinks to his ass when you do.

neighbor!toji discovers one night that your boyfriend had cheated on you. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but how could he not? you were crying again, but this time, it was over the phone with your best friend, and he finally understood your tears.

neighbor!toji who drops off some dinner for you, before stepping out for the night to who knows where.

he returns the next morning at your doorstep with breakfast, offering to eat with you. you gladly accept, the fact that he used to be so cold and unapproachable long forgotten.

when you switch on the news, a gasp escapes your lips as your ex-boyfriend is on the screen. it was reported that he was found brutally beaten in an alley, but there was no evidence pointing to who had delivered the blows.

"oh my gosh, toji! look!" you tell him, shock written all over your face. "who the hell did that?"

he stares at the screen, admiring his handiwork. he left him beaten because he believed that death was too peaceful for the man who deserved anything but. but for your sake, he acts equally as surprised and oblivious. "no idea, doll," he mutters.

neighbor!toji who, from then on, vows to never let anyone hurt you, vows to make you feel better when you're down. crying for the 26th time this week? no problem, he's right there holding you and sharing dinner with you. wanna talk shit about your shitty ex? of course, he was never worthy or good-looking enough for you anyway.

after a month and a half, neighbor!toji musters up the courage to ask you out to dinner. you blush as you take up his offer, and toji is internally running a marathon.

neighbor!toji shows up at your door on a friday at 7 pm, donned in a black button up and jeans, carrying a gorgeous bouquet of roses for you. when you open the door, you practically see hearts in his eyes. you blush—you've found that you blush a lot more around him—and take the bouquet, setting them in a vase before rejoining him. he adores you and how beautiful you look. not that he believes you are much more attractive when you're going out to dinner, he just finds himself thoroughly enjoying different sides of you.

boyfriend!toji who has ever since treated you way better than your shitty ex, or any shitty exes, ever did. he makes you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, makes you smile so much your cheeks are sore. plans dates that are so creative or relaxed, always leaving you excited for the next. fucks you so, so good, that you become the louder one in bed, rather than being silent (shitty ex reference). he patches you up and gifts you in a way no one else could; toji fulfills you.

you're glad he used to be cold.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Let's Get Physical pt. 3

pt.2 pt.4

Author's note: Hate to do this to you guys but it's angst time :P Sorry this was late as hell, my mom had surgery and I've been taking care of her. I recommend listening to Taste by Sabrina Carpenter while reading this

It's Thursday, a few days after you and Soap had set up a date for the following Saturday, but it feels like 2 months later. The days drag by with no clear end in sight. Soap had barely texted you since that night, yet neither have you. The nerves twisting your stomach left no room for attention towards your classes. You'd completely spaced out during your math class, and your physics class, and the rest of them, but who's keeping track?

By Thursday, you were already ridiculously far behind in your physics class. Your teacher would never give an extension, unless you were literally in a hospital, and you needed to get them done asap. Where did that take you? Back to your personal tutor.

Flopping onto your bed in your dorm, you whipped out your phone, a small smile on your face at the excuse to meet with Soap.

Heyyy

It doesn't even take a minute before he responds

Hey hen

What're you up to?

Nothing at the moment, why?

Any way we could meet up later? I'm behind on my assignments and could use your help😓

Seen 1 min ago

Seen 2 mins ago

Seen 10 mins ago

Nerves set in. Did you say something wrong? No, what's wrong with wanting to see him again? Him helping with your homework was how this all started, why stop? He even asked you out-

Oh shit. You finished his sentence for him, maybe you read into it wrong? Maybe he wanted to just hang out as friends, and you assumed it was a date. OUT. LOUD. Fuck, and he went along with it to not make it awkward, didn't he? No, just trust for once.

It's another 30 minutes before you give in and decide to text him again.

If not it's okay, just could use your help, if you aren't busy :)

Sent 2 mins ago

Seen just now

Typing...

I'm meeting with a client in a bit, but we can get a hotel after if you want

Your stomach drops to the bottom of your feet.

Oh.

Right.

Why would you forget about that? Of course he was still going to do his job, you weren't special enough to make him stop, even if he saw you as more than a friend. You signed up for this, so swallow the lump in your throat and don't cry.

Oh right, haha. Yeah we can do that :)

You played it off, right? You can do this. You can see him, hug him, while he still smells like another woman. Could you kiss him, knowing he had another woman on his mouth? God, should you do this?

Seen just now

Seen 1 min ago

Seen 5 mins ago

It's not like you're dating. Were you? You had one set up, but it hadn't happened yet. Were you jumping ahead of yourself? What did you actually feel for him? When he tutored you, you couldn't help the lingering looks you'd give him when he turned to grab something, or how your skin would heat up when he'd squeeze your shoulder and tell you how good you're doing.

God knows how many times you had touched yourself to the thought of him kissing down your body.

Was it worth it? He's so gentle with you, your mind and body reacting to him in a way no one else had managed to make you, but he would never fully be yours. He'd realize eventually there was no true reason for you to be around, and that he could get everything he wanted from the women who pay him, right?

On his end, he was dreading the coming evening. Bianca had payed double than last time, and he needed to pay for a leak in the piping of his sink. Not left with much choice, he accepted. God, he did not want to do this. Taking clients began to feel empty once he got to know you. You payed attention to him, and not just his dick. All he wanted to do right now was hold you and watch a movie, despite not knowing what that felt like with you.

It wasn't something he entirely enjoyed, being a hooker. After a while, his dick became desensitized, and he found it a little harder to be in the moment. Yet, unless he wanted to be eating ramen and tatties for every meal, he didn't really have another option. If he had a documented job, he'd lose his disability check.

So here he was, at a hotel, waiting for her. He dressed in black slacks with a white dress shirt, the first few buttons loose. He had popped a viagra, already knowing that it was gonna be near impossible to get hard with her behavior. When she opened the door with a drawn out, high pitched,

"Heyyy"

He exhaled and gave a fake, yet convincing, smile and prepared for what'd to come. Hopefully he'd be able to just bend her over, so he doesn't have to look in her eyes, pillow shoved in her face so he can barely hear her and just pretend she's you.

This was going to be a long night, but at least you were at the end of it.

[blondemrk]

wait i just saw 10 got filled so envelope 1 + mark 🪼

LATE NIGHT RAMEN

p mark x fem!reader genre angst/fluff wc 2.1k

you don’t know what stroke of bad luck led you to this, but somehow, you ended up with mark lee as your roommate.

it was supposed to be a temporary thing—just until your original housing situation got sorted out. but weeks turned into months, and now, you’re stuck with him. the boy who leaves his shoes in the middle of the living room like a trap. the boy who blasts his guitar at ungodly hours. the boy who somehow never remembers that dishes don’t clean themselves.

it’s unbearable.

“you left your laundry in the machine again,” you snap, throwing his clothes onto the couch.

mark, lying upside down on the floor for no reason, just grins at you lazily. “thanks for bringing them in.”

“that wasn’t meant to be helpful.”

but mark never takes anything seriously, so of course, he just stretches and sits up, ruffling his hair like he’s the main character in some rom-com. “you stress too much,” he teases, smirking.

“you annoy me too much.”

it’s always like this—snarky remarks, bickering over who finished the last of the cereal, and arguing about his terrible taste in music. mark has a way of pushing every single one of your buttons, and you hate that it’s so easy for him.

it starts over something stupid.

as most of your fights do.

you come home after a long day, exhausted, already feeling the weight of a million little frustrations pressing down on you. all you want is to reheat some leftovers and go to bed. but the moment you open the fridge, you realize something.

the container of pasta you made last night—the one thing you were looking forward to—is gone.

“mark!” you yell, slamming the fridge shut.

a beat of silence. then—

“yeah?”

you storm into the living room, where mark is sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world. he glances up at you, one eyebrow raised, and you can already feel irritation crawling up your spine.

“where’s my food?”

mark blinks, like he has to think about it. “oh. that was yours?”

your jaw drops. “are you serious right now?”

he has the audacity to shrug. “i thought you weren’t gonna eat it.”

“oh, right, because i just love cooking for fun and leaving food in the fridge for no reason.”

mark sits up slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “relax, dude. i’ll buy you something tomorrow.”

“that’s not the point!” you throw your hands up, exasperated. “you always do this! you take my stuff, you leave a mess everywhere, you never listen when i tell you to stop—”

mark rolls his eyes. “jesus, it’s just food.”

“no, it’s not just food, mark! it’s everything.” your voice rises, frustration spilling over. “you don’t take anything seriously! you act like everything is a joke, like it doesn’t matter if you make my life harder—”

“because you’re always looking for something to be mad about!” mark snaps, standing up now. his usual easygoing expression is gone, replaced with something sharper. “god, do you ever stop complaining?”

you recoil, heat rushing to your face. “excuse me?”

mark lets out a humorless laugh. “you act like i’m the worst person in the world just because i’m not a control freak like you. news flash, roommate, not everything has to be a life-or-death situation.”

your hands curl into fists at your sides. “maybe if you actually cared about anything, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“i do fucking care!” mark’s voice is louder now, rough around the edges. “but you—you just assume the worst about me all the time. no matter what i do, you’re always gonna see me as the guy who’s never good enough for you.”

that stuns you into silence.

your breath is uneven, your heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. you don’t know when the fight stopped being about food and started being about something else. something bigger.

mark exhales harshly, raking a hand through his hair. “you know what? forget it.” his voice is quieter now, but there’s something final in it. “i’m done.”

and then he walks away, slamming his door behind him.

leaving you standing there, chest heaving, hands shaking.

and the worst part? you don’t even know if you’re still angry—

—or if you just hate the way it hurts.

but why does it hurt? you hate him.. right?

the apartment feels different after the fight.

it’s not just the silence—although that part is deafening. it’s the way mark doesn’t acknowledge you when he walks past, the way he doesn’t joke around like he usually does, the way he keeps his door shut more often than not.

for the first time since you moved in, you miss the noise. the annoying hum of his guitar, his off-key singing from the kitchen, the sound of him laughing at his own stupid jokes.

but most of all, you miss him.

and that’s the worst part.

you don’t even know how the fight escalated the way it did. one second, you were yelling about food, and the next, mark was saying things you weren’t ready to hear.

“you’re always gonna see me as the guy who’s never good enough for you.”

his words haven’t stopped replaying in your head since that night.

you hate that it stings. because it means maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t completely wrong.

it goes on for days.

the cold war. the avoidance. the awkward, heavy silence that makes the apartment feel suffocating.

until one night, when you find him on the couch.

he’s sitting there, staring at the tv, but it’s clear he’s not really watching. there’s a crease between his brows, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against his knee. his usual easygoing energy is gone, replaced by something quieter.

you hesitate.

you could go back to your room. pretend you don’t care. pretend nothing’s wrong.

or you could do something about it.

with a deep breath, you step forward. “hey.”

mark stiffens slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him first. “hey."

silence stretches between you, thick and uncertain.

then—

“i shouldn’t have said all that,” you admit, crossing your arms. it’s not easy, swallowing your pride, but the weight in your chest won’t go away otherwise. “i was pissed, but… i didn’t mean to make it seem like i don’t—” you stop yourself. shift on your feet. “like i don’t see the things you do.”

mark exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. he looks exhausted. “i shouldn’t have snapped either. i just… i dunno, i was frustrated. it felt like no matter what i do, you always see me as the guy who doesn’t take things seriously.”

you chew on your lip, then sit down next to him. not too close, but close enough that your knees nearly touch. “i don’t actually think that,” you say, voice quieter now. “i was just being an asshole.”

mark glances at you, amusement flickering through his expression. “yeah. you were.”

you huff, elbowing him lightly. “you’re supposed to say, ‘no, it’s okay, you’re totally justified in all things.’”

mark snorts, shaking his head. but then he leans back against the couch, exhaling. “i don’t wanna fight with you.”

you swallow. “me neither.”

another beat of silence.

then, in a voice so soft you almost miss it, mark says, “i don’t hate living with you, you know.”

your heart stumbles over itself. you turn to look at him, but he’s already focused on the tv, like it didn’t take everything in him to say that out loud

you breathe in slowly. then, barely above a whisper—

“yeah. me neither.”

and somehow, just like that, the weight between you starts to lift.

things don’t go back to normal immediately.

the tension lingers, the memory of the argument still fresh. but the ice starts to thaw—slowly, subtly.

mark stops avoiding you. you start talking to him again.

it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

and then one night, something changes.

it’s late when you walk into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you were up studying, brain fried, stomach grumbling. you expect the apartment to be quiet, mark probably already passed out in his room.

but instead, you find him at the kitchen counter, sitting cross-legged on a stool, lazily munching on a bag of chips.

he glances up when you walk in. “yo.”

you blink at him. “what are you still doing up?”

mark shrugs, tossing a chip into his mouth. “couldn’t sleep.”

you open the fridge, searching for something edible. “are we out of leftovers again?”

mark scratches the back of his neck, looking suspiciously guilty.

you narrow your eyes. “mark."

“okay, listen, technically i ate the last of them, but before you kill me, i made ramen.”

you pause. “you made ramen?”

mark grins, pushing a bowl toward you. “consider it a peace offering. and its about all i can cook..."

you hesitate for a second, then sigh, accepting the bowl. “i guess this is a step up from you just eating my food with zero remorse.”

he smirks. “see? character development.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop the small smile from tugging at your lips as you take a seat across from him.

the apartment is quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional crunch of mark’s chips. you’re not sure why you’re both still awake at this hour, but for the first time in a while, it doesn’t feel awkward.

mark leans his chin in his hand, watching you eat. “hey,” he says suddenly, voice softer.

you glance up. “what?”

his gaze lingers on you for a second longer than necessary. “we’re good, right?”

something in your chest tightens.

you don’t know why, but the way he says it—like it matters—makes your stomach flip.

you swallow, setting your chopsticks down. “yeah,” you murmur. “we’re good.”

mark exhales, a small smile tugging at his lips. “cool.”

and maybe it’s the late-night haze, or the warmth of the ramen settling in your stomach, or the way mark is looking at you—not like you’re his annoying roommate, but like you’re something else—but for the first time since moving in, you think…

maybe this isn’t the worst thing in the world.

you’re both on the couch, a movie playing in the background. you weren’t even planning to watch it, but somewhere between mark saying, “just one episode, come on,” and you rolling your eyes, you ended up here—sitting too close, sharing the same blanket, the flickering light from the tv casting shadows across his face.

you’re tired. sleepy in that comfortable, heavy way where everything feels a little softer, a little less real.

mark is sitting next to you, his arm draped over the back of the couch. you should move. there’s plenty of space. but you don’t.

you’re barely paying attention to the movie when you feel it.

mark shifts beside you, stretching his arms—casual, unbothered—until suddenly, his fingers graze your shoulder.

it’s the lightest touch. a barely-there brush of skin against skin.

but it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

you tell yourself you’re imagining it. that mark isn’t really leaning in, that his gaze isn’t flickering to your lips, that the space between you isn’t disappearing.

but then—

his fingers skim your wrist, hesitant but deliberate. testing the waters.

your heart stutters.

you turn to look at him, and—god.

he’s close. too close.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a second, just a second, you think—

is he going to kiss me?

the air shifts, thick with something unspoken. neither of you moves, but neither of you pulls away either.

then, the sound of a loud car horn blaring outside makes you both jolt.

the moment shatters.

mark blinks, pulling back so fast it’s like he just realized what was happening. “uh—” he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “i should, uh. get some water.”

you swallow hard, nodding. “yeah. yeah, good idea.”

mark practically jumps off the couch, making a beeline for the kitchen.

you sit there, heart pounding, staring at the screen without really seeing it.

because something almost happened just now.

and the fact that you’re disappointed it didn’t?

that’s a whole new problem.

@chenlezip @holyhaech @mrkified @injvns @polarisjisung

did yall miss me or what..

[r1nstaaa]

Mingyu x fem!reader

MDNI!!! this ones for u, maya <3

masterlist

warnings: uh idk sex? raw sex yes. angst if u squint. smut mostly. childhood bsfs to lovers. happy ending bc im too soft sorry. it's my first time writing smth like this pls be nice

should mingyu feel ashamed? ashamed for thinking about how good those tiny hands of yours would feel around his thick cock, pumping him and stroking him while you’re on your knees looking up at him through those oh so innocent eyes of yours? should he feel ashamed for not focusing on a word you’ve been saying for the past 15 minutes, his eyes being glued only to your chest and lips?

it started when you were in high school. you and mingyu had been inseparable, almost as if your souls were created from the same one. he lived next door to you and you would go to his place every time you wanted to do something together. your mom treated him like her own son and his mother had practically accepted you as family.  you could never have imagined a life without him. and frankly, you’re not even sure if you’d want to.

it wasn’t until the day that mingyu broke the news to you that you realised it was time to let go. it was time to let go of all the big warm hugs, or the ‘bear hugs’ as your mingyu liked to call them. it was time to let go of all the cheek kisses, all the lingering gazes that you were both too scared to act on. you wished you could have said it. you wished you were brave enough. but you weren’t. and neither was he. 

he was leaving for korea in a week and there was nothing for you to do except let go of him.

you wished you could have gone about your life casually after his leave, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t miss him everywhere. you missed him when you went to the restaurant where you bought him his favourite spicy ramen. you missed him at the park where he made you laugh so hard you almost choked on your soda. you missed the smile on his face every time you told him you hated him for making fun of you. the smile that made you wonder if the stars envied him for the way he could brighten up darkness so effortlessly.

it wasn’t until 6 years later that you finally caught a glimpse of him again. 

you were at the airport in korea. you’d managed to fulfill your dream of becoming an architect and had finally gotten a project outside of your country. you saw flashing cameras, paparazzi, and a huge crowd of people surrounding a 6’ something guy wearing a mask and some sweats. you never got the idea of surrounding people as if they’re some god. they’re just people too after all. 

you had managed to get through some of the crowd when you reached for your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. you pat it several times just to make sure until you realised something. shit. it was missing.

it was right when the realisation hit you that you felt a tap on your shoulder. you turned around and were face to…chest? god, this man was freakishly tall. you looked up to meet his eyes with yours and it was as if the breath had been knocked out of your damn lungs.

mingyu.

it was YOUR mingyu. 

“y/n?” he questioned, almost to himself. he couldn’t believe it. it was you. there were so many thoughts trying to rush their way out of his heart into his mouth that they seemed to all get clogged up in his throat. your name was the only thing that felt right on his tongue.

“gyu?” you questioned back, the look of surprise on your face quite evident.

“you dropped your phone.” he said, his eyes not leaving yours for even a second. almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear the second you left his eyesight.

“i- oh yeah. thank you” you managed to sputter out as you took the phone from his hand. “what are you- what are you doing here?” you ask him. oh god. this was such a dumb question. what was he doing? you knew what he was doing. you stalked his account like a thousand times. you knew he was an idol.

he flashed a smile when he heard this question. the smile that you hadn’t seen in at least 6 years. it was almost as if it was reserved only for you. he was about to answer you when his bodyguards notified him about something that made his smile drop. 

“i’ll reach out to you later. i promise.” he said as his bodyguards seemed to rush him out of the airport. you were left there alone with your countless thoughts and overflowing emotions, unable to decipher which one was tugging at you more.  

and so, here you were, in your new and surprisingly well furnished flat, all thanks to your sister. you had changed into your tank top and shorts while emptying your bags and setting up your closet. your room was fairly clean by now, even though you were only about halfway done. you had never been a fan of messy surroundings anyways. 

right as you were about to put the last pile of your shorts into your closet, you heard your phone ring. 

“oh. an unknown number? at 9 pm? isn’t it a bit too late for that? or maybe it isn’t?” you thought to yourself. you figured the culture here at korea must be different. 

“hello?” you said, hoping for some sort of an explanation as to who it was.

“hi.” the voice on the other side greeted you. it was almost embarrassing how quick you were to realise who it was.

“mingyu… oh, hi. um, wow. hi.” your voice was shaking already. oh god. way to go, y/n.

“yes,  hello.” you could hear his honey laced laughter from the other side. it made your heart melt. “how have you been?”

“i- okay. first of all, how the hell did you get my number?” you asked, a hint of bewilderment in your voice.

“i had it memorised.” you could HEAR the love in his voice. this was so bad. you were doomed. 

you didn’t really have anything to say, nor did you trust your words at the moment. you were afraid if you said something now, everything else would spill out uncontrollably. 

“why didn’t you call earlier?” your voice was getting shaky. oh no. you knew this was a bad idea. “it’s been 6 years gyu. 6 fucking years.”

‘“i know, i know” mingyu cut you off before you could continue, your words shooting daggers at his heart. he’d always hated seeing you cry. but the pain was different when he was the one making you cry. “i’m so, so sorry. god, i have so much to make up for. please trust me when I tell you there hasn’t been a single day when you haven’t crossed my mind. i know 6 years isn’t nothing. ghosting you was a dick move. i- please. don’t cry. no. god, can i come over?” he asked, picking up on your silent sobs just as well as he did back then.

and just like he used to be back then, he was here at your doorstep to make you forget about everything that ever made you sad. except that this time, he was the one making you cry. he couldn’t ever forgive himself for this, but he could try to atone for his sins, as he’d like to call it.

you weren’t exactly crying anymore, since you’d always been pretty good at regaining your composure. but there was a certain emptiness in your heart, one that you knew only gyu could fill.

you were standing face to face, him panting slightly because of the 7 flights of stairs he’d just conquered. 

“hey.” you said. 

“hi.” he looked down at you. the longing in his eyes too evident for you to ignore.

“no security this time?” you questioned with a smile on your face.

“ah, no. that was airport security. kind of a formality.”

you nodded. “you’ve gotten so big. i can’t even hug you now.” you said while giving him a faint smile, referring to the dozens of fangirls he was surrounded by and not to mention, the security.

“oh bullshit.” he said as he pulled you into the tightest hug you could have ever imagined. his arms fully caging you in as if he never intended to let you go. and you wouldn’t admit it, but you never wanted him to either. 

“i missed you.” he whispered into your hair. “god, i missed you so much. i’m so sorry.” 

he spent 3 hours explaining why he couldn’t contact you and what he had been upto without you. after a while, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about anything besides the fact that one, he did not have a girlfriend. and two, he had changed a lot. appearance wise, that is. he wasn’t the mingyu who had left for korea anymore. he was taller, stronger and undeniably hotter. little did you know, mingyu had been thinking about the same things as you were. when did you get so fucking irresistible? i mean, sure he did have a thing for you back in high school. hell, he hasn’t even been able to get over it for the past 6 years, but seeing you like this, with barely anything on and a newfound confidence which you certainly did not have back then ignited something in him. he didn't know how long it would be until he finally gave in.

and so, here you were. facing him on your bed, talking about some degree of yours, when all he could focus on was the way you licked your lips before continuing, or the way your tits were almost fully out on display for him due to that sad excuse for a clothing item you were wearing. you noticed too. he wasn’t exactly being subtle. the way his knees were touching yours and the way he kept playing with his fingers was driving you insane.

“well, then yeah. here i am now, i guess.” you finished telling him about your life. you were almost completely caught up on each others’ stories now, or so you’d like to believe.

his stare hadn’t once left your lips. you hadn’t really noticed how close his face was to yours until you had finished talking.  “gyu” you questioned, your voice almost a whisper. the space between you could be easily closed with just a lean forward from either of you. it had come down to self control now. and lucky for you, mingyu barely had any when it came to you.

“can i?” he questioned, his lips almost on yours. almost. 

you responded by putting your lips on his, and his hands immediately snaked around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. his grip on you was so strong, it made you whimper against his lips. you didn’t bother pulling away to breathe, the action seeming a bit too unimportant at the moment. you had other things to do right now. “gyu..” you moaned out as his lips made their way down to your neck. “so sweet. so good. been thinking bout this for so long.” he whispered against your skin, punctuating each sentence with a kiss on different parts of your neck. his hands made their way up your top, making direct contact with your skin. the warmth radiating off of his hands made you melt under his touch. 

his hands came up to grasp the hook of your bra as his mouth worked wonders on your sensitive spot. “can i? please?” he asked before unclasping the hooks and discarding the small material of clothing into a small corner of your room. his hands snaked further up your body as he guided your top over your head. he had your tits right in his face now. “fuck… so pretty.  shit, all for me?” he asked as he latched onto your right nipple, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud while his hand worked wonders on the left one, pinching at it, making you squirm. “yes.. gyu please. need more. need you.” 

“patience baby. been wanting this for so long. gonna make it worth it.” he said as he took his shirt off. god, it was a sight to see. he was gorgeous. the toned abs, the huge biceps, and not to mention, that beautiful face, he was going to be the death of you. “like what you see?” he questioned teasingly, but your brain was too focused on the way his hands were squeezing your tits while he used his mouth to suck and nibble at your collarbones. he stopped all of it to grab your attention, and you whined at the loss of contact. “gonna need answers baby. be a good girl and use your words, hmm?” you moaned out a weak ‘yes’ as a response, but he accepted it out of mercy.

“lie down for me, pretty girl. on your back, thats it” he said as he helped you get off his lap and onto the mattress. his lips travelled all the way from your neck to your breasts, down to your tummy. he placed several wet, sloppy kisses all over your tummy, making sure to mark you as his on any part of your skin that was visible. your neck had already served its purpose as his canvas, his art on full display for any man who’d even dare to look at you. he wouldn’t admit it, but he was completely obsessed with the idea of making you his. god, he wanted you so bad. 

his hands found their way to the waistband of your shorts, which he tugged at as a way of asking for your permission yet again. you pulled them off yourself making him let out a groan at your compliance. he was facing your clothed cunt, the wet spot on it embarrassingly evident. he kissed it once, looking up to see your reaction. “does that feel good, love?” he asked as his hand made its way to your core, rubbing light circles on it through your underwear. he was such a tease. 

you couldn’t find it in yourself so speak, so you just nodded. this made him stop again. “please baby, i’m gonna need you to use your words, yeah? tell me how good i’m making you feel.” he said as he spat on that damp spot on your underwear, teasing you even further. “mingyu… feels so good.” you managed to moan out, earning a chuckle from him. “see, it wasn’t that hard baby.” 

he pulled your panties off, spreading your legs even further and getting down on his knees on the floor as he pulled you towards the edge of the bed. “such a pretty pussy. can’t wait to taste you baby.” 

his fingers danced against your clit, tapping slightly in an attempt to tease you. this made you let out a whine. “shh baby. i’m gonna take my time with you.” he said, as he tapped his fingers against your lips, signalling you to take them in. you wasted no time in sucking on his fingers and coating them with your saliva. “such a good girl.” 

his hands slid against your folds, the coldness of your saliva mixed with your slick making you shiver. he rubbed on your clit while his other hand was busy playing with your tits. he inserted one finger into your hole, making you gasp. 

“shit, you’re so fucking tight. need you wrapped around me.” you felt his tongue lapping against your cunt, the feeling sending you into overdrive. you had your hands in his air, tugging at it for some sort of control. “ah- gyu, please. fuck.” he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations reaching straight to your core. just as you felt your high approaching, he gave your clit one last kiss before pulling away. you felt tears well up in your eyes as you let out a whine at the loss of contact.

“aww baby. ‘m sorry. but if you’re gonna cum, it’ll be around my cock.” such a fucking tease.

he pulled his pants off, revealing his deliciously prominent bulge in his boxers. he was palming his cock while staring at your cunt. fuck. 

“shit baby. you’re so beautiful. you want me to fuck you?” he knew the answer. of course he did. he could see you how you clenched around the nothing at the sight of his cock being freed from his boxers. lord have mercy. “yes min. please fuck me.” you managed to choke out. that was all he needed.

he stood between your legs, teasing your entrance with his cock. he slowly rubbed against it, gathering your wetness before slipping it in. the stretch you felt made you moan out loud. the sound was music to his ears. once he was buried inside fully, he waited for you to let him know it was okay to move. 

“shit, you feel so good baby.” he groaned, holding back the urge to thrust hard into you and absolutely ruin you for anyone else. but he knew it was too soon. he wanted to savour this moment, feeling your warmth surrounding his cock. he leaned down to kiss you as he began to move steadily, swallowing up all the sounds you were making. “f-fuck gyu, feels so good” you whined against his lips. his hips rocked into you, building up a rhythm. each powerful stroke made your breath hitch, as your nails were busy creating their own masterpiece on his back. he was proud of it too. 

his hands were on your waist, gripping it tightly as he thrust into you. he was picking up his pace. he pressed down on your abdomen, making you gasp loudly. “you feel that baby? feel my cock against your tummy? does that feel good?” he asked, his voice hoarse and laced with ecstasy. “y-yes min. i’m close, fuck.” he knew from the way your pussy clenched around his cock that you were close. his rhythm was starting to falter as he approached his own high.

“where’d you want it baby? want me to come on your pussy? gonna look so pretty.” you nodded, barely registering his words. you were so close. “please.” was all you could let out. your breathless plea was enough to convince him. 

your eyes squeezed shut as you felt yourself come undone around his cock. a few more thrusts and he pulled out, spilling his seed all over your pussy. he collapsed onto you, placing feather light kisses all over your neck and collarbones.

“i’m never letting you go again, you know?”

“i know.”

“i love you, y/n.” 

[kawoala]

howdy!!!! i’d like to place my order at meeyas diner.

mm, for a burger, could I get haikyuu + kuroo tetsuro? (surprise)

sides, hm… could I get something silly and sweet, like curling up on the couch, brushing teeth together, etc??? just domestic shenanigans.

for a drink, i’d like roommates to lovers, if it’s in stock. also, could I get that traditional? thanks! mwah mwah (also this event is sooo freaking cute btw)

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE; kuroo tetsuro. burger—haikyuu. drink—roommates to lovers.

contents word count ; 855. sickfic. howl’s moving castle mentioned. kuroo is a good friend. also yaku + kenma mentioned.

authors notes LOVE ME A GOOD SICKFIC!! idk if i made kuroo like. accurate but i tried my hardest!! i was going to include a confession at first, but it kind of just went the it went yk? had a mind of its own.

KUROO TETSURO is nothing if not a good person. you’ve only known him for about two years, lived with him for even less, and yet you know that he’s a good person.

he’s the kind of friend to show up at your job with a bento full of your favorite food, the practice excuse of i was nearby rolling off his tongue easily. yaku had been having a hard time adjusting to his new university team, and kuroo really wanted him to make some friends, so he made enough for yaku to share.

he’s also the kind of friend to show up to your apartment unannounced, groceries in hand, ready to make dinner. kenma had been doing his annual 24-hour stream and kuroo noticed he was strictly eating ramen. you’d been creeping on the comment as kuroo was cooking, and they were filled with feral teenage girls talking about how good his forearms looked with his sleeves rolled up.

and, thankfully, he’s the kind of friend to call off work the second he notices you’re sick—even if you beg him not to. today, his counter argument was, “i don’t even wanna go to work, though. plus, i think i’m getting a little warm. feel my forehead; do i have a fever? oh god, i can feel it settling in, y/n. death, knocking at my door.”

and then he flopped down on you, draping his arm over his eyes in a dramatic gesture. 

so, now, you’re here; curled up on the couch, shared blanket pulled up to your chin, howl’s moving castle playing on the TV. kuroo sits beside you, work clothes long gone, replaced by his favorite hoodie and a pair of sweats. early, you’d briefly wondered how he could look good even in clothes like that, but shook the thought away quickly.

you can not be thinking of your roommate like that.

an empty bowl that once had soup in it sits abandoned on the coffee table, along with two mugs of tea. you didn’t want him to stay home at first, but after getting special treatment, you’re glad he did. 

you haven’t been watching the movie for long. sophie is just now meeting howl again, a scene that didn’t make sense to you the first time you watched it, but did after watching it again. you glance over at kuroo again—you’ve tried to stop, but can’t—and notice his brows are furrowed.

you nudge him with your foot until he looks over, face relaxing into a small smile. you tilt your head. “why do you look so confused?” you ask, voice raspy and thick with sickness.

he glances at the TV, then back at you. “why did howl do that? like, pretend to be sophie’s boyfriend or husband, or whatever?” he gestures vaguely with his hand. “couldn’t he have just been, like, ‘hey, stop messing with that girl,’ or something?”

“what? no, of course not. that scene practically makes the whole movie. haven’t you ever watched this before?” it’s your turn to furrow your brows.

he simply shakes his head and your jaw drops. you sit up properly now, blanket falling off the too half of your torso. “what? what are you talking about?” he awkwardly looks to the side. “you’ve never watched this? howl’s moving castle—never watched it?”

again, he shakes his head. “never,” he confirms. “i’ve heard of it, because of you, but i’ve never had the chance to watch it.” he pauses, then smirks and shrugs. “too much big boy work to do, i guess.”

you narrow your eyes for a moment, then playfully roll them. you settle back into your spot again, adjusting the blanket once more, and sigh. “that was sexist. also, i watched it when i was a kid.”

“hey, that was not sexist, c’mon.” you can tell he’s trying to get your attention again—he always sounds the same when trying to get someones attention. “hello-o-o,” he sings out, leaning closer to you.

you still don’t answer him, opting to stare at the screen of the TV. you’re not really paying attention to it, but you hope you at least look like you are.

the couch dips right beside you and kuroo is suddenly hovering over you, staring at the side of your face. “i want being sexist,” he says. “i love women.”

“oh, please.” you almost snort. “you haven’t been on a date for, like, four months.”

all you get is a hum in response. he plops back down with a sigh and you keep your eyes on the TV. after a beat of silence, you look over at him.

“hey.” again, you nudge him with your foot. “thanks for staying home today. and making food for me. i really appreciate you.”

for a solid second, the look in his eyes is unreadable. usually, you can tell what he’s thinking like he’s speaking into your mind himself—it’s been that way since you first moved in together. something just clicked between you two. but now, you can’t tell.

“yeah, whatever.” he laughs and shoves your legs away playfully, not bothering to fight the smile on his face.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

His Hyung's Noona | Yoongi

- Pairing: Min Yoongi x Noona-Kim!Reader (ft brother!Jin)

- Requested by: @kayleefriedchicken

- Requests: Open for now. Please read my requesting guidelines before requesting.

- Warnings: My first bts/yoongi imagine. steamy shower dream scene, NO SMUT but builds up to it. Noona!Reader is mentioned to be three years older than Yoongi, two years older than Jin. The first half is pure angst. ex-fiancee Minho is not associated with any kpop groups/actors. Minho is a common name and I couldn't think of another one.

- Word Count: 5.122

- Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Min Yoongi Masterlist | BTS Masterlist

Y/N knocks on her younger brother's front door, her heart racing with uncertainty. It’s late, and she isn’t sure if he’s still awake. Just as she’s about to turn away, a wave of relief washes over her when the door opens moments later, revealing a puzzled Jin, who wasn’t expecting any late-night visitors. 

Noticing the distress etched on his sister's face, Jin silently steps aside, his expression shifting from confusion to concern as he gestures for her to come inside his apartment. The familiar scent of his apartment, an odd mix of instant ramen and the faint aroma of his favourite cologne and a hint of pine tree, brings her comfort, but it does little to ease the turmoil inside her.  

"Sorry for dropping by so late," she says, slipping off her shoes and leaving them neatly by the door as he shuts the door behind her. "I just didn’t have anywhere else to go." 

"What's going on, Noona?" he asks, his brow furrowing as he takes in her dishevelled appearance and the way her hands tremble slightly. His concern for his older sister deepens and he moves closer to her, ready to offer her support. 

"I ended it with Minho," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. Ignoring his surprised expression, she makes her way to the kitchen, and opens the fridge. A small cheer escapes her lips when she spots a container of strawberries nestled among the leftovers the other food. She takes them out, promising Jin, she’ll replace them first thing in the morning. For now, she needs the comfort of something sweet.  

"What do you mean you ended it with Minho? You two were supposed to get married in three months. I thought everything was good between the two of you?" Jin says, the strawberries being the last thing he’s worried about. As far as he knew things were great between her and Minho. They’d been in a relationship for the past five years. They had their fights but they quickly made up. He wasn’t Minho’s biggest fan but the businessman made his Noona happy so he kept his opinions to himself. 

He moved to the living room and settled back onto the couch, his eyes never leaving her as he watches her rummage around his kitchen.  

"Remember that K-Drama I just finished?" she asked, finding the chocolate dip in the cupboard and walking into the living room. She paused, realizing Jin wasn’t alone. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she offered a small wave and a slight bow to Yoongi, who was lounging on the couch, his expression a mix of curiosity and surprise. He returns the gesture as Jin speaks again.  

"Husband, marry me?" He asks, having paid no attention to his sister yapping about her new favourite drama. 

"Close," she replies, redirecting her attention to him. "It's called Marry My Husband." 

"So, how does that relate to you breaking up with your fiancée?" Jin asks, even more puzzled.  

"You broke up with Minho?" Yoongi interjected, surprised but also with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It was well-known among Jin and the rest of their friends - Jimin being the first one to point it out - that Yoongi has always had feelings that went beyond friendship for Y/N. He had tried to move on after she started dating Minho, convincing himself that if she’s happy then he’s happy for her.  

She nods, addressing Yoongi before turning back to Jin. "Let’s just say I can relate to the drama."  

"He tried to kill you?" Jin exclaimed, his eyes wide in shock. All he remembered was her mentioning that the husband killed the wife, and she was sent back in time.  

"No, but I caught him cheating with Hae-Yun and they practically turned its back on me like it was my fault they did it," she sighs, sounding sad and heartbroken and goes to sit in-between the two men. However, as she sits down, both of them stand up, anger on their faces.  

Jin's brow furrowed, and his fists clench at his sides. "What do you mean he cheated on you? I can’t believe he would do something like that!" His protective instincts kicked in, and his anger towards Minho, the man he had reluctantly accepted into their family, only grows stronger the more he thinks about it. "Actually, you know what, I always thought he was a no-good scumbag and you deserve better, Noona. I just kept my mouth shut because it seemed he made you happy. I should go kick his ass." 

"I'm right behind you, Hyung," Yoongi joins him, his expression mirroring Jin's fury. He’s always been the quiet one, the one who keeps his feelings hidden, but now, with knowing what happened, he also feels a surge of protectiveness. 

Y/N raises a hand, her eyes wide, "Wait, guys, please! Don’t go and confront him. I dealt with it. It’s over and to be honest, I’m more hurt Hae-Yun would do that to me. She was supposed to be my best friend," she bites her lip, trying to stop herself from crying as she opens the container of strawberries and chocolate dip. Once the container is open, she offers some to the two of them, who are now looking at her with sympathy. They both politely decline, allowing her to enjoy them alone.  

Avoiding their gazes, she glances down at her empty hand, now free of her engagement ring. “I was so furious. I took the ring off and gave it to her, telling her he’s a cheapskate and won’t spend money on another ring for her, so she might as well keep it,” Her voice trembles slightly as she recalls the moment her friendship and relationship ended. “I didn’t just lose the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with, I lost my best friend, the person I did everything with. I’ve never felt so alone, Jinnie.” 

Jin kneels down in front of her, his eyes searching hers. "You’re not alone, Y/N. We’ll help you through it, okay." He says, his voice sincere and she can see the determination in his gaze. “Minho and Hae-Yun just showed you their true colours. They don’t deserve your tears, okay?” he continues reaching up and wiping away his sister’s tears. “They don’t deserve anymore of your time, Noona.” 

“I still need to go get my stuff,” she tells him. 

“Leave that to me, Yoongi, and the rest of the guys,” he assures her, with Yoongi nodding in agreement behind him. “We’ll make sure you get everything back, and you can stay here for as long as you need.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to burden you all,” she murmurs. 

“It’s no burden at all,” Jin assures her. “Now, how about we all get some sleep and we can sort it all out in the morning,” he suggests and looks at Yoongi. “Do you want to stay tonight?” 

He nods. “I think it would be best if I did. That way we can leave first thing in the morning.” 

“You’ll have to share the bed in the spare room or one of you can sleep on the couch,” Jin tells them before making his way to his bedroom, leaving them to sort out their sleeping arrangements.  

Y/N closes the container of strawberries and chocolate and takes them back to the fridge. “I can sleep on the couch,” she tells Yoongi as she comes back to the living room. 

“Jin’s couch isn’t the most comfortable to sleep on so I’ll take the couch,” he counters remembering the last time he slept on it. He had a sore back for a few days. “Unless you’re okay with us sharing the guest bed?” His eyes meet hers, and there’s a hint of playfulness in his tone, but he’s also serious about wanting to make her feel comfortable.  

Y/N hesitates for a moment, the idea of sharing a bed stirring a mix of emotions within her. “I mean, if it’s not a problem for you…” she trails off, her cheeks warming slightly at the thought. 

“I’m okay with it,” he assures her and they move to the guest room to get ready for bed. 

Once they’re settled, backs turned towards each other and keeping a respectful distance, Yoongi tries to drift off to sleep. However, the soft sound of Y/N’s muffled cries pulls at his heartstrings. He rolls onto his back and turns his head to face her. He can barely make out her silhouette in the dim light, her body shaking slightly. "Y/N?" he calls softly, trying to catch her attention.  "Are you okay?" 

When she doesn't reply, he reaches out, gently rolling her over and tugging her into his arms. "What's wrong with me?" he hears her say between sobs, her voice muffled by his shirt. "What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this?"" 

"You haven’t done anything wrong, and there’s nothing wrong with you," he comforts her. It’s Minho and Hae-yun who are at fault. They’re the ones who made the wrong choices. They chose to cheat on you," he continues, running his fingers soothingly along her back, hoping to provide some comfort. 

Y/N's sobs begin to quiet as she burrows herself deeper into his embrace, the warmth of his body, the gentle rhythm of his fingers tracing patterns on her back and the beating of his heart against his chest provide a sense of comfort she desperately needs. "But it hurts so much," she murmurs, her voice still thick with emotion. "I thought they cared about me.” 

“Sometimes people we trust do things to hurt us,” he says softly, his heart aching for her, while his anger for the two people she should have been able to trust the most continues to grow. "But we learn from these experiences and move forward, no matter how painful it is. That’s how we grow and become stronger." 

"What if I just want to give up?" She sighs sadly. “What if I don’t want to move forward. I feel like I have lost everything.” 

"No," he insists, tilting her chin, making her look at him. "You can’t give up, okay? Not now. Not ever. You have so many people who care about you. Your parents, your brother, the rest of the guys," He pauses, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his feelings. "Me. I care about you, Y/N. I want to be there for you – with you through the good and the bad. I want to see you happy again.” 

Her cheeks heat up as she looks into his eyes, unsure of what she’s looking for. The warmth of his gaze envelops her, and for a moment, the weight of her hurt feels a little lighter. She can see the sincerity etched in his features and in his eyes. As he searches for the right words, his lips press together and his brow furrows in determination. It stirs something deep within Y/N. It’s a flicker of hope that perhaps not everyone is in her life to hurt her.  

"But what if I can't?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the moment they’re sharing. "What if I can’t be happy again?" she swallows hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. The tears threatening to spill over again. "I don’t want to be a burden."  

"You could never be a burden to me," he replies, his deep voice softening as he brushes a stray hair behind her ear. "You’re one of my favourite people and believe me when I say you’ll be happy again. I’ll make sure of it.” 

"You really mean that?" she asks, her voice trembling, hope now mixing with her hurt.  

"I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it," he replies. Giving into his urges, he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.  

Trying to ignore the sudden giddy feeling in her stomach, she rests her head back on his chest. The two of them eventually drifting off to sleep. 

The next morning Y/N wakes up alone. The side of the bed Yoongi had been sleeping on is now cold and the faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, a reminder of the comfort he brought her the night before. She stretches, feeling the weight of the world still pressing down on her shoulders, but the warmth of his words echoes in her mind.  

Sitting up, she glances around the room, taking in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The sunlight dances across the walls, illuminating the small room that’s now temporarily hers. With a sigh, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and plants her feet on the cool wooden floor. The quiet of the morning feels heavy, and she can’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that clings to her. She reaches for her phone, half-expecting texts and missed calls from Minho and Hae-Yun but her screen remains dark, letting her know that it died sometime during the night. 

Standing up, she makes her way to her brother’s room and plugs her phone into his charger before grabbing a shirt and a pair of shorts. She walks into the bathroom between the two bedrooms and turns on the shower, hoping that it’ll ease some of the tension off her shoulders. 

Stepping into the shower, she allows the hot water cascade down on her. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she feels herself begin to relax. She reaches for the shampoo her brother has and starts lathering her hair with it. While washing her hair, her mind to wanders back to Yoongi’s words, replaying them like a soothing melody.  

"You could never be a burden to me." 

“You’ll be happy again. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“I care about you, Y/N.” 

His voice echoes in her mind. She thinks of the way he looked at her, his eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. Minho has never looked at her in the way Yoongi had last night. It was a look she didn’t know she was longing for until now, a look that made her feel seen, understood, cared for and maybe even loved.  

She scrubs at her skin, feeling the tension begin to melt away. The water washes over her, carrying away her worries temporarily. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the body wash, a comforting blend of lavender and cherry blossom. She’s so focused on what she’s doing, she doesn’t notice the bathroom door open or anyone entering the room until she feels the shower door slide open, letting in a rush of cool air. She turns around, covering herself with her arms, only to find herself face to chest with a very naked Min Yoongi.    

“Yoongi, what-” She’s cut off when he presses his finger against her lips. 

“Tell me you want this too,” he says, his deep voice, deeper and huskier than normal as he steps under the water with her, his hands resting on her hips, drawing her closer. 

“We shouldn’t,” she breathes, the urge to surrender to him overwhelming.  

“Why not?” he replies, tilting his head to plant soft kisses along her neck. 

“Because,” she starts, but loses herself in the sensation of his soft lips on her skin. Biting her lip, she stifles a moan. “Because, Jin,” she continues, her breath becoming shaky. “My brother... you’re one of—oh,” she whimpers softly as his teeth graze a sensitive spot, causing her to melt into his embrace.  

“Jin Hyung doesn’t care,” he tells her, pulling back slightly. His hands cradle her face, tilting her head to meet his gaze, reminiscent of the night before but now feeling far more intimate. “Can I kiss you properly?”  

Even though her mind screams for her to refuse, she finds herself nodding in agreement. Her heart races as Yoongi leans in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss starts off almost hesitantly but Yoongi quickly deepens it, his lips moving against hers with a growing urgency. His hands slide from her face to her waist, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between them. 

“Yoongi,” she breathes against his mouth as she pulls back enough to breathe. 

“Just let go,” he murmurs, his breath warm and inviting as he cuts off what she is going to say. “Just for now, don’t think about it.”  

“Okay,” she whispers, giving into her desires.  

Yoongi’s lips crash against hers with a fervour that takes her breath away. There are no signs of hesitation; it’s passionate and all-consuming. Her hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. His hands move lower, tracing the curve of her body until they reach her thighs. Lifting her off the floor, he wraps her legs around his waist as he presses her back up against the cold tiled wall of the shower. 

The world outside the shower fades further into oblivion, and all that exists is the warmth of the water, the intoxicating scent of lavender and cherry blossom, and the undeniable chemistry between them. 

Just as things begin to escalate, a loud bang comes from the living room, jolting her awake. Realising she had just dreamt her intimate shower with Yoongi. Her heart races as she sits up, the vividness of the dream lingers in her mind, the sensation of his lips on hers, the way his hands felt against her skin. She can almost hear the echo of his deep husky voice, soft and soothing, urging her to let go of her worries. 

The noise from the living room breaks through her reverie again—another loud thud followed by muffled voices. Sighing, she gets out of bed and leaves the bedroom to find out what's happening. 

As she steps inside the living room, she finds Jimin and Taehyung standing over a box that had tipped over, its contents spilled across the floor. "What havoc are you two causing at this hour of the day?" she asks causing the two men to jump. 

"Yah! Noona!" Jimin shouts as they turn around to face him. "It wasn't us. I told Jin Hyung not to put the box on there because it will fall," he continues motioning to the stack of boxes sitting in the middle of the room. "It's all your stuff, by the way." 

"Jin Hyung and Yoongi Hyung called all of us this morning to help get your stuff that jerks apartment," Taehyung informs her. "They told us what happened. I'm sorry that happened to you, Noona." 

"Just so you know we all had to hold Jin Hyung and Yoongi Hyung back from getting an assault charge," Jimin tells her, filling her in on what happened with her now ex-fiancée. "Jungkookie may have done something though. But don't worry he made it look like an accident." 

"It seems I missed all the fun," she chuckles.  

"Namjoon filmed most of it," Yoongi's voice came from the doorway as he brought in another box. She quickly turns around, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as her mind goes back to the dream she woke up from. She can't get the image of a naked Yoongi out of her head.  

"I-uh-I need to go by Jin some more shampoo," she stutters, saying the first thing that comes to her mind. "I used the last of his," she continues to explain. Finding her handbag on the kitchen island, she picks it up, and hurries to the front door, avoiding their confused gaze as she puts her shoes on 

“Is it just me or is her hair dry?” she hears Taehyung mutter to the other two as she leaves her brother’s apartment. 

A week later:  

After Y/N finished her dance class, she turned on some music and began tidying up the small studio rented by the dance academy where she teaches kids aged 3 to 7 twice a week. While she truly enjoys teaching the next generation of dancers, she often finds herself longing for the thrill of performing on the stage again. She’d gained quite a reputation in the dance community, having danced for several HYBE groups and soloists, including her brother’s group. Those were the days when she felt alive, with every performance it was a chance to express herself in a way that words could never. 

Sadly, when she got engaged nearly two years ago, Minho had pressured her into quitting. He insisted that he didn’t want his wife touring the world and performing with male idols while he remained at home, stuck in a job he despised. Looking back, she should have recognized it as a warning sign, but her love for the deceitful, unfaithful man clouded her judgment. She had given up so much for him. 

Now that the cloud had disappeared, the realization of all the sacrifices she made for him ignited a fire of anger within her. It wasn’t just the lost opportunities or her dream being pushed aside; it was the betrayal that cut the deepest. Hae-Yun, her former best friend and the woman who had so easily stepped into her role in Minho’s life, was already flaunting the engagement ring that had once belonged to Y/N. She was showing it off to everyone she met, parading it like a trophy she won for her conquest of ruining a relationship. 

Y/N had learned about it from her coworker at the cafe she works at. Even though she expected it, it still stung a bit. 

As she continues to tidy up, she gets lost in the music playing from her speaker, a song she used to dance to.  It's as if muscle memory takes over and she starts swaying gently to the music, the rhythm pulling her back to a time when she felt free and alive. Each note resonates with the memories of late-night rehearsals, the thrill of performing in front of an audience of thousands of people no matter how nervous she was before it, and the exhilaration of just being on stage with people she had become close with. As the chorus swells, so does the ache in her heart. 

Catching herself in the mirror, she comes to a stop, and stares at the woman she’s become. For a moment she sees the girl who used to twirl across the dance floor with not a care in the world. The sparkle in her eyes, once so bright with ambition, now flickers with a hint of nostalgia. She wonders if that little girl with a love of ballet and hip-hop girl still exists within her.  

“Do you miss it?” Yoongi’s voice pulls her back to reality. Her cheeks start burring red once again as she thinks back to a week ago. She’s been avoiding the rapper and producer all week, trying to flush the intimate images of her dream from her mind. 

“Miss what?” she replies, feigning nonchalance, but the tremor in her voice betrays her as she avoids meeting his eyes.  

“Dancing. The stage. The thrill of it all,” he says, stepping closer to her, trying to get her to look at him. 

She hesitates, the weight of his question hanging in the air. “Sometimes,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper as she collects the clothing some of the children have unintentionally left behind.  

“Have you thought about going back to it?” he asks standing in front of her. Taking the clothes from her hands, he tosses them to the side. Capturing her full attention, he leans in slightly, his eyes searching hers for answers. “Why have you been avoiding me?” he presses, not allowing her to respond to his first question now that she’s focused on him. 

"I haven't been avoiding you," she denies.  

"That's why you haven't been answering my calls, messages and you disappear as soon as you see me," he scoffs leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

She bites her lip, an ache of longing mixed with fear swirling inside her. “I just… I needed some space,” she finally admits, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “Things got complicated, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”  

“Complicated?” he repeats, his brow furrowing. “In general, or between us?” he asks. “Because I don’t think anything happened between us to make it complicated.”  

“It wasn’t you. It was me and my silly subconscious,” she sighs. Ever since her dream about being intimate with Yoongi, she’s been viewing him differently. She knows she shouldn’t feel this way since her younger brother is one of his closest friends and bandmates, not to mention he’s three years younger than her. But the dream felt so real, that it had shaken her to her core. The way he had looked at her, the way he touched her, the way they had moved together—it was intoxicating. 

“Your subconscious?” he echoes, a hint of confusion in his voice. “What do you mean by that?” 

She takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “It's just... I mean… I’ve uh... I've been thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t be.” She glances at him, her heart pounding as she meets his gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away again. “You’re my brother’s friend, and you’re younger. It feels wrong... but it doesn't at the same time and I'm so confused.” 

“Why does it feel wrong?” he asks, his voice steady and not giving away to what he's truly feeling. “We’re both adults. We can make our own choices.” 

“Because it’s not just about us,” she replies, her voice trembling slightly. “It’s about Jin and both our loyalties to him. And that your younger and I'm not getting any younger. People expect me to get married and start popping out babies.” 

“Jin would want you to be happy,” he insists, stepping closer again. “And if that happiness is with me, then why should it matter?” 

She shakes her head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “It’s not that simple. If things go wrong, I don't want you to risk losing Jin and I don’t want to risk losing you both.” 

“Losing me?” he repeats, his expression softening. “You think I’d just walk away if things didn’t work out? When I told you I care about you, I meant it. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken promises. She feels a flicker of hope, but it’s quickly overshadowed by doubt. “It doesn't change that I am older than you and have certain expectations.” 

"Three years is nothing!" he retorts, his voice rising slightly in frustration "I've never cared that you're just three years older than me. Why would I start caring about that now?" He steps even closer, the space between them charged with an electric tension that makes her heart race even faster. “Just give me one chance to prove myself,” he says, tilting her head to look at him. “Allow me to make you happy again.” 

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” she whispers. 

“But what if it does?” he counters. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. For you to finally see me the way that you do now. I’ve dreamed about it for years. Do you think I’m going to let it just slip away? Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.” 

She searches his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all she finds is sincerity, making her heart ache with longing. "You've really felt this way for years?"  

He nods, "Since the day Jin introduced you to us. At first, I thought it was just a silly teenage infatuation. But as the years passed, my feelings only grew stronger. I tried to push it away, but the more I got to know you, during those late-night dance practices, family meals and everything else, the more I realized how special you truly are." 

Her heart races as she processes his confession, a mix of disbelief and elation washing over her. "But why didn't you say anything sooner?" 

“You met Minho, you were happy and I didn’t know if you saw me than anything other than Jin’s friend and bandmate. I didn’t want to complicate things,” he admits. “And you know me; I’m not great at expressing my emotions.” 

"You're doing a pretty good job of it right now," she replies with a gentle smile. 

“I can’t keep pretending any longer," he says, his expression shifting to one of determination. "So, will you give me a chance?" 

The question hangs in the air, heavy with possibility. She feels a rush of emotions—fear, excitement, hope. She thinks back to the countless times they’ve been together, the late-night practices, the way he always made her laugh and smile, how he makes her feel comfortable and safe.  

As she looks into his eyes, she sees the vulnerability beneath his confident facade. He is laying himself bare, exposing his heart and soul to her, and in that moment, she realizes that he is just as afraid as she is. 

“Okay,” she finally breathes, her voice barely above a whisper as she nods her head. 

A smile broke across his face, as he brings her in closer. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes, please,” she giggles, her mind flashing back to her dream. 

He leans in, his breath warm against her face. Time seems to come to a halt, the world around them fading away as their lips meet. A spark ignites inside her, sending a rush of warmth through her body. She feels his hands cradle her face, his fingers brushing against her hair, and she melts into the kiss. 

To engrossed in each other, they don’t hear Jin entering the studio until they hear him start yapping about how he better not have to watch them kiss in front of him again, at least not until the wedding. They end the kiss, Yoongi’s arms moving to her waist to pulls her into his arms. He smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she rests her head on his chest. 

“Yah! Can we go get food now?” Jin asks after realising they weren’t paying attention to his rambling. 

“Food sounds good,” Y/N agrees with him as she pulls herself out of Yoongi’s hold. Collecting her things, she exits the studio with the two men following behind her. 

“You hurt her in anyway and I’ll do what Jungkook did Minho on you, got it?” she hears Jin warn his best friend.  

“Yes, hyung,” Yoongi quickly replies. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

TAGLIST:

@staytiny2000

[pip-see]

Originally this was supposed to be a nicest fic where they went to an author meet and greet that Lin Ling likes but ig it turned into this so like the beginning of how Lin Ling found the books series.

Lin Ling clutched onto things like a desperate man trying to stay a float in harsh and dark waters.

Moon had been one of those things. She had given him strength with her words and Lin Ling felt like he made it through the days just only by seeing her face through flashing pixels through a screen. Hearing her voice saying words of encouragement made him feel like he had ample energy to go on with life and live.

She had given him hope and Lin Ling clung to it with all he had.

Moon had been the main thing that supported him through the last two years of his life, the other thing beside her was not as well known and popular as the hero's. But rather a simple books series.

Lin Ling had thought it childish at one point that he clung desperately to words written on paper. He still thought that but not as much as he did before.

-

He saw the books in a small little bookshop window the place was squeezed in between a tiny Arcade and an out of date record shop. The books were worn in use, the spines creased, the pages an soft mix of white and yellow. Lin Ling had taken interest as soon as he caught the glimpse of the book.

Lin Ling walked in the shop without thinking, grabbed the book that was on display, and began to read the synopsis that was on the back.

He didn't notice the shop keeper had walked out from somewhere in between the shelves, but a small graying lady looked at him and smiled. “ I enjoyed that series when I was quite young,” she said, her voice startling Lin Ling, making him jump and almost drop the book.

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to disturbed you.” He apologized, his heart going back to a steady pace after the sudden scare. “It's just that the cover fascinated me.”

Blue and white intricate details were wrapped around the spine and cover of the book emitting a whimsical and calming vibe that Lin Ling had been drawn to immediately at the sight.

“You're fine dear. You're actually the first customer to come in here today in no bother at all really” The lady gestured to the book. “Did you read the summary? If it doesn't interest you I can help you find something more suitable for you. I know people nowadays aren't interested in Found family books.”

His grip tightened about the book but he didn't make a move to put the book back.

Lin Ling shook his head. “No, it's interesting. It's just I was never much of a reader before.”

“Ah,”She shook her head in understanding. “ I understand. Those books are very beginner friendly. A little hefty read with four books in the series but quite compelling.”

Four books in the series, she said and Lin Ling thought of his steadily draining bank account and knew he couldn't afford that. The book was interesting, the summary had drawn his attention and the quick flip through of the pages seemed that the writing style was simple and easy. But four books seemed like a lot which meant a lot more money.

The lady must've seen something flick in his eyes and she spoke up. “There on sale. Everything's on sale.” She looked sad as she said this and Lin Ling felt back about accidentally bringing it up. “We're closing at the end of this month. Not enough attention and we used to have. 130 Yuan for all of them.”

130 Yuan wasn't bad, maybe it stopped him from getting the expensive ramen he got for lunch but he could go to the cheaper one.

The ramen was good in his stomach but the books would cure boredom. And as much as his boss wanted him to work, Lin Ling wanted something for himself. Something that he could enjoy. Something to forget what he did at work and then sneers he received from his boss and co-workers.

He wanted something that was entirely his own.

He grabbed the other three books and put them on the checkout counter.

“I'll buy them.”

[shorelinessightlines]

- short maxiel ficlet [UNFINISHED] -

Daniel is a shit cook.

That is one of the first things Max learns about him, right after the fact that Daniel is eight years older than him and nestled just before the knowledge that Daniel had sex with Sebastian Vettel.

It’s a strange roster of information, but Daniel is perhaps the strangest person Max has ever known.

Max happens across the particular character trait of “Terrible Chef” after his first race with Red Bull. They are in Daniel’s hotel room, because Christian told Daniel he had to watch after Max and “make sure he doesn’t get shit-faced, for fuck’s sake, he’s barely 18.”

Max does not think this is fair. He has already been 18 for months.

Daniel does not seem to this is fair either, because he has been sprawled out face-down on the only bed and grumbling to himself for the entire time they've been alone. Max is standing at the side of the bed, in case Daniel starts to suffocate.

Daniel has not suffocated for half an hour. Max does not know if this is impressive or not.

His stomach grumbles. Max hasn't had anything to eat since before the race. It's been eight hours, and the hotel minifridge doesn't come pre-stocked.

Against his better judgement, he pokes at Daniel’s shoulder. “Daniel,” he prods, feeling self-conscious. “Daniel.”

Daniel makes a sound that probably indicates annoyance. “What do you want,” comes out irritated and muffled by the pillows. Daniel's Australian accent further muddles the words, so it becomes more, "Waddya wah," and Max makes an educated guess from there.

Max shoves against his shoulder lightly. “Can you please—can you get up?”

A brief pause, as if Daniel is considering it. Then, “No.”

“Daniel, if you suffocate, Christian will yell at me.”

That gets him to lift his head, expression twisted into something that looks both incredulous and annoyed. “Christian would not yell at you,” he says, sounding offended. “Christian would yell at me for suffocating in front of you. Christian doesn't have a bone in his body capable of yelling at you.” He sounds very angry about it, which Max does not get.

"I do not think I understand."

Daniel looks impossibly angrier. "Don't play dumb with me," he grits out. "That was my win"

Max tilts his head. You should have driven faster, then, he wants to say.

"I am sorry," he says instead, as sincerely as he can, because Daniel is his best chance at dinner for atleast a few meters. He is not sorry in the slightest. He doesn't understand why Daniel cannot accept that Max is sometimes the favorite, and that if Daniel were as good as Max is, maybe Christian would like him more.

Daniel narrows his eyes. "Bullshit." Then, he drops his head back into the pillow and continues not suffocating.

Max shoves at him again, harder this time. "Daniel, you are being unfair. Get up."

Nothing.

He tries again, practically trying to roll him over. His teammate is decently heavy, though, so Max is really only able to shove him around and wrinkle the sheets. "Daniel," he says. "Daniel, come on. Make me dinner, or something, at least."

“Oh my god, mate,” Daniel groans. “If I do, will you leave me alone?”

Max considers the idea. “Yes,” he concedes. Daniel rolls out of bed so quickly, he's almost offended.

"What do you want?" He says, pulling on his socks. Max shrugs. He has no idea what Daniel can cook. "Okay, instant ramen, then."

Max is about to ask if Daniel is going to the convenience store, when the Australian opens his suitcase to reveal a wrinkled suit, three pairs of underwear, a retainer case, and two packets of instant noodles.

(i ran out of steam and didnt finish :( didn't want to let this rot in my drafts tho)

[sparrowritings]

seven days to confess

pairing: geto suguru x gn!reader

summary: shoko and satoru give suguru an ultimatum to confess to you by the end of the week

tags: jealousy, not actually unrequited love

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i know this is a suguru x reader but there’s lowk more satoru and shoko x reader LMAO

Shoko has had enough. Enough of the needless pining that she somehow always finds herself in the middle of. 

She was the first to notice, before Satoru even suspected a thing. Lingering gazes and touch, Suguru is always a gentleman around you, opening doors, bringing you food when you are busy with missions all day, and giving you shoulder massages whenever you are stressed from writing reports. He didn’t treat Shoko or Satoru like that, so for Shoko, it was obvious that you were special to him.

When she brought it up to Satoru, he only made the case more damning. 

Shoko and Satoru sat under a tree, avoiding the harsh afternoon sun. A few dozen yards away, you and Suguru were sparring, curses clashing with the multiple light-constructed weapons you had summoned with your cursed technique.

“Satoru, do you know if Suguru like, has a thing for (Y/N)?”

“A thing? He hasn’t told me anything if he does.”

“Really? I feel like Suguru’s so lovesick I feel nauseous just watching them when they’re together.” 

The two of you had stopped sparring, and instead, you were playing with Rainbow Dragon, as if it was a big dog. You created a large ball of light and tossed it into the air, and Rainbow Dragon launched itself off the ground, fetching the ball in its maw and returning it to you, dropping the ball at your feet. You pet the curse’s head, and it bounds around you, playfully nudging you and licking your face.

“Ew. I’ve never seen Rainbow Dragon do that in all the three years that I’ve known it.” Satoru pointed out, placing his hand on his chin as if pondering deeply.

“Speaking of which, I ran into Suguru yesterday in the common room at ass o’clock making ramen. I asked if he was making a midnight snack, and he told me he was making it for (Y/N) because they were hungry.” He recounted, “He’s never made anything for me, no matter what I say and no matter how many puppy dog eyes I throw at him.”

“We should ask him about it later.” Shoko spoke, amused.

Satoru shrugs, still watching you play fetch with Rainbow Dragon.

“Sure, it’ll be fun.” He replies.

The chance comes when the four of you are hanging out in Suguru’s room, a week from winter break. A cheesy romcom plays on the portable DVD player set on the table. You and Suguru are sitting on the bed, while Satoru is sitting against the bed on the floor, and Shoko is plopped down on the bean bag next to him. 

Halfway into the movie, Shoko nudges Satoru. He clears his voice.

“Uh, (Y/N), I left one of my mission reports in your room after we were working on reports the other day, do you mind grabbing them for me?”

“Your mission report? The last time we worked on reports was weeks ago.”

“U-Uh yeah, I-I was, uh, looking through my reports… and I realized I was missing one.”

“Huh.” You raised an eyebrow in suspicion and confusion, before getting up to look for Satoru’s mission report, “I’ll be right back.” 

The door closes with a click after you leave the room.

“What was that about?” Suguru questions, suspicious.

“Sooooo, Suguru,” Satoru starts with a mischievous grin on his face, “Christmas is coming up.”

“Right, like it does every other year.” He answers cautiously. 

“What Satoru is trying to say, is that you should ask (Y/N) to go out because we are sick and tired of your pining.” Shoko continues.

“What? Where did you guys get that idea from?” Suguru deflects.

“We have eyes, Suguru. You guys make heart eyes at each other every time you are within a ten foot radius. You should just ask them out and spare all of our suffering.”

“Okay…? But I’m pretty sure they don’t like me like that. We’re just really good friends.”

“The only person you’re convincing is yourself, Suguru.” 

The room is plunged into a tense silence.

“Fine. I admit it. I like (Y/N) as more than just friends, but there is no way they feel the same way.” 

“So you’re not going to tell them?” Satoru asks.

“No way, especially not now.”

“Fine then, I’ll just tell them for you since you don’t have the balls to.” Shoko deadpans.

“No.” Suguru answers immediately.

“I propose a deal.” Shoko says, smirking.

“I don’t like the sound of that but go on.”

“You tell (Y/N) that you like them within the next seven days, I won’t tell them anything. But if you don’t, Satoru or I will help you, and we’ll make it very embarrassing for you.” Shoko states.

“Doesn’t really seem like I have a choice in the matter.”

“Nope! So what do you say?” Satoru says with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Seen as I don’t have a choice, I’ll have to agree.” Suguru says.

“Great! Then we wish you to best of luck for the upcoming week.” Satoru says as he slaps Suguru in the back.

You return the same moment, pushing the door open.

“Satoru I couldn’t find your mission report.”

“Now that I think about it, I think I didn’t leave it in your room.” You frown, giving him a confused look.

“Okay,” You drag out the word, not fully believing the white haired man, “Let me know when you find it.” Satoru shoots you a double thumbs up.

Of course, Shoko and Satoru did not intend to let the week pass by easily. 

“Here’s the plan,” Shoko says, pointing at a crudely drawn diagram on the whiteboard next to her. They were hidden away in the morgue, far away from wherever Suguru and you were. She points to the stick figure which represented you.

“First, we have to take (Y/N) out on ‘dates’. They can’t be too forward, so that (Y/N) doesn’t suspect anything, but they also have to be believable enough that Suguru gets jealous.” Satoru nods in agreement. Shoko then points to a stick figure drawn with a singular bang over its forehead. 

“Then, we make sure Suguru knows about these ‘dates’. He gets jealous, then BOOM-” Shoko points to two stick figures holding hands, “we get them together.”

“Alright, sounds good to me,” Satoru says, grinning.

On Monday, Satoru asks you to grab dessert with him. You say yes since it was a regular occurrence, but normally Suguru would also tag along. When you met up with him and Suguru was nowhere to be seen, you were surprised.

“Is Suguru not coming?”

“He said he had to work on a mission report so he won’t be coming.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then.” 

The two of you visit a desert place in the nearest town.

“Same old?” The owner of the store asks.

“Yes please!” Satoru answers enthusiastically. You take a seat at one of the booths near the window. The owner arrives at your table, placing down a slice of strawberry cake for Satoru and sakura mochi for you. You dig in immediately, and Satoru sneakily takes a photo of you enjoying your favourite dessert.

“We should take a photo.” 

“Sure? What for?”

“To send to the group to show the other two what they’re missing out on.” You shuffle to the other side of the booth, and Satoru wraps a hand around your shoulder. Satoru had always been surprisingly physically affectionate with friends, so you thought nothing of it. 

He takes the photo with his free hand, and as he snaps a few consecutive photos, he smears some of the leftover cream from his strawberry cake onto your face. You retaliate immediately, getting some of the cream from the plate and flicking it at him. Satoru continued taking photos, but at that point, both of you were laughing so hard that you could barely sit up straight.

Satoru sends the photos into the group chat once you agree on a truce to stop assaulting each other with cream. It is a series of ten photos. The first few were normal selfies, you and Satoru smiling at the camera. Then the photos devolved into blurry messes of cream and smiles, as they captured the food fight frame by frame, first showing how Satoru started the fight, then how you got back at him.

They were cute photos, you had to admit. You responded to the photos with a growing heart emoji and “:P”, before making your way back onto campus with Satoru.

On Tuesday, Shoko invites you to self-care night. You knew that Shoko often had self-care nights with Satoru. You were invited sometimes, but oftentimes you chose to hang out with Suguru and they stopped inviting you after you turned them down a few times. 

Suguru was still out with Satoru on a mission, so you had taken Shoko up on her offer.

Shoko had set her room up for peak comfort. She had her DVD player on her table along with a collection of different DVDs to pick from. The rest of the table space was taken up with a variety of skincare products to choose from. She put a movie on in the background, and she began guiding you through her ten-step skincare routine.

You followed her instructions and put a green clay mask on your face. When your face was fully covered in green, you laughed and pulled out your phone, taking a selfie with Shoko, who pouted at the camera.

As the mask was drying, you let her do your nails, coating them in a layer of baby blue nail polish. As the night came to an end, you both sheet masks on, sitting on Shoko’s fuzzy throw blanket on her bed.

“What do you think of Suguru, (Y/N)?” Shoko asks.

“What do I think of him? Well…I think he’s kind, talented, and a really hard worker. I think he’s convinced that he’s not good enough, but he’s the only person who doesn’t see how amazing he is. He’s one of the best friends I have along with you and Satoru.” 

“So what would you say if Suguru asked you out?”

“Huh?” Your mind went blank as blood rushed to your face, “Why would you say that? He doesn’t even like me like that!” 

“So you would reject him if he did ask?” You pause.

“I would say yes, but also he would never ask me out.” You answer cautiously. 

“Okay.” Shoko didn’t say anything else related to the matter for the rest of the night, and by the time you left her room, you had forgotten about the exchange.

When you were back in your own room, you received the photos that you had taken that night, sent into the group chat with the rest of your co-years.

Like the ones you had taken with Satoru, they were cute photos. You replied with a simple “<3” and turned in for the night.

On Wednesday, you were pleasantly surprised to find out that you had no missions or classes. You were also much more surprised to find out that Satoru was inviting you out to dinner, and at a very fancy restaurant at that. He had invited you to a high-end Western restaurant in Shinjuku and had said it was his treat for putting up with him for so long. You had known Satoru to pull weird stunts here and there, but this seemed like a nice gesture so you had agreed.

Wear something nice ;) 

He had texted you that morning. In the end, you chose a going-out outfit that was classy but still showed some skin. You had done your hair as well and wore your favourite makeup look for going out. When you met up with Satoru before the dinner, even he seemed surprised at how good you looked. 

“You look good, (Y/N),” Satoru wanted to add on “Suguru would lose his shit if he saw you right now,” but decided against it before the words slipped out.

You held onto him, and a moment later, you were at the entrance of the restaurant. Satoru had already arranged what foods were going to be served ahead of time, so the two of you waited patiently for the food to arrive.

The lighting of the restaurant was dim, but the candles set on the tables along with lanterns hanging from the ceiling cast a warm glow over your faces. The floor-to-ceiling windows you sat next to provide a front-row view of Shinjuku, countless billboards and signs flashing in a sea of lights. The entire mood of the restaurant was intimate, welcoming, and cozy, and it was almost romantic-

“Satoru is this a date?” You ask suddenly, the gears in your head spinning and clicking into place.

“What." Satoru replies, startled.

“Satoru, I really appreciate you doing all of this, but I have feelings for someone else-”

“I know that you like Suguru.” He blurted.

“What- did Shoko tell you? I swear when I get back she’s-” Satoru cut you off with a sigh, taking his shades off and placing them on the table, rubbing the bridge of his nose. There was no lying out of this one.

“Look. Shoko and I came up with a plan to get Suguru to confess to you by the end of this week. Tonight is part of that.”

“And you intend to get him to ask me out by going out with me and doing it for him?” You ask incredulously.

“No, jeez. The plan is to show Suguru that you’re going on-” He makes air quotes with both hands, “-dates with us, which would make him jealous and push him to confess to you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“You know he doesn’t like me like that right? I’ve tried telling Shoko but I don’t think she took me seriously.” 

“For the record, I don’t like you like that; I like that we’re friends, and I’d like to keep it that way. Let’s just enjoy this dinner and trust me and Shoko to work our magic. I also wasn’t kidding when I said that this was to thank you for putting up with me. I just have to treat Shoko and Suguru to something similar as well after this.” Satoru offers, holding a hand out as if offering a truce. 

You ponder for a moment, before taking his hand. 

“Deal.”

The rest of the night goes smoothly once the tension between you two diffuses. You had the best steak you have ever had in your entire existence, followed by the best tiramisu that you had ever put into your mouth. 

As you are walking out of the restaurant, you realize that Satoru is no longer beside you. Looking behind you, you realize that he was taking a photo. He jogs to catch up with you, showing you a candid photo of yourself. The photo caught you mid-turn and smiling at the camera, the dim yet warm lighting making your features slightly blurry, making the entire scene look dreamy.

“I’ll put it in the group chat so you can have it,” Satoru says as he taps away on his phone. He also sends another photo he took earlier when you were still at the table, smiling in front of a steak the size of your face. You didn’t reply with a message but reacted to the image with the double heart emoji.

On Thursday, Shoko invites everyone to her room to hang out. Currently, Satoru and Suguru are playing an intense game of Mario Kart, you and Shoko watching from the side. 

“You should let me do your eyeliner.” Shoko suddenly says, “I saw this look in this magazine the other day and I think it’ll fit you.”

“Sure,” You nod, leaning back on the bed. Shoko digs around her drawers for her makeup and sits in front of you. She cups your face with one hand, holding her liquid eyeliner to your eye with the other, resting the heel of her palm on your cheek to stabilize her hand. 

Before the eyeliner touches your skin, you hear the loud rustle of someone standing up from the bed.

It was Suguru. The game controller lay on the bed, the current round of Mario Kart forgotten.

“I can’t take this anymore.” He says, shooting Shoko an accusatory glare.

You and Shoko both freeze, looking over at Suguru.

“You, you’re guilty too.” He points at Satoru, who has also abandoned Mario Kart and is looking up at Suguru from where he is sitting on the bed.

“First, you take (Y/N) out on a dessert run without me. Then, you-” He points at Shoko, “Whisks (Y/N) to self-care night coincidentally when Satoru and I are out. Then-” He looks back at Satoru, “You take (Y/N) out to one of the fanciest restaurants in Shinjuku on a date. And now this?!” He gestures with both hands to Shoko, who was still frozen in the previous position, both hands on your face.

“I don’t know what the fuck you guys have been planning, but seen as you obviously can’t keep your hands off (Y/N), you guys obviously don’t care that I have feelings for them so maybe you guys should date them instead?” He throws both arms up in frustration before leaving the room. The door closes with a slam. The room is plunged into silence.

“I’m going to go after him.” You speak, rushing out of the room. You made a detour to your own room to put on and pick up an extra coat and scarf. You thought for a while where Suguru would be, then quickly decided to go to the lake. He told you about this spot that he frequented when he needed to clear his mind; you went once with him and agreed that it was a great spot when you wanted peace and quiet.

When you jogged out of the vicinity of campus, gentle snow began to fall, muffling all the noises around you.

 As you arrive at the clearing next to the lake, you see Suguru, who is sitting on a flat rock right next to the water, back faced to you. The lake had yet to completely freeze over, and gentle waves lapped at the shore. The soft gurgling of the water was the only thing you could hear through the snowfall, along with your heavy breathing and the crunching of the pebbles underfoot. Puffs of smoke dissipated into the air above him as he smoked a cigarette.

You know he hears you, but he makes no effort to look away from the lake. Silently, you wrap the extra coat around his shoulders, and you sit down on the rock next to him. You turn your head, tracing the sharp slopes and curves of his profile with your gaze.

Suguru took a drag of his cigarette, breathing out another breath of smoke. Still looking over the lake, he hands the cigarette to you. You take it, also taking a drag of the cigarette. This continues in silence for a few minutes, before you inhale, taking a full breath of the crisp, cold air, which burns the back of your throat.

“I…like you too, by the way. You could’ve just asked if you wanted to date.”

“How long have you liked me?”

“Since the first year. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship. I didn’t think you liked me like that.” You chuckled at your own blindness in hindsight.

“I didn’t want to ruin the friendship either.”

The quiet murmur of the water against the shore and your own breathing were the only sounds you could hear.

You inhaled, ready to speak, but hesitated at the last moment.

“Sorry, by the way, for last week.” You pause, “Apparently, Shoko and Satoru came up with a plan to get you jealous. I found out yesterday when I was out in Shinjuku with Satoru.”

“You what.”

“I played into it ‘cause I thought it wouldn’t affect you. I was convinced you didn’t like me like that.”

“Well, it did affect me.” Suguru finally turned to look at you, his mouth twisted into a pout.

“I know that now, that’s why I’m apologizing.”

Silence enveloped you both once again, like the soft blanket of freshly fallen snow on the treetops.

“Shoko and Satoru found out I liked you last week” It’s Suguru who breaks the silence this time, “She said something about not being able to handle all this pining and threatened to tell you if I didn’t confess by the end of the week.”

“Sounds like a Shoko thing to say.” You giggle, “Well? We’re not at the end of the week yet.”

Suguru takes your hands in his, his hands surprisingly warmer despite being outside longer. 

“(Y/N), I’ve liked you since we were in first year. Just didn’t want to admit it because I was scared.”

“Well, there’s nothing to be scared about ‘cause I like you too.” Suguru moves a hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into it.

“I know that now.” 

Suguru leans in and kisses you gently. You feel the butterflies flutter their delicate wings in your stomach as your heart beats against your ribcage. You part for air briefly before Suguru presses your lips together again, this time more confident and hungry, as if making up for lost time. He tangles his hand in your hair, pushing you towards him and deepening the kiss. A warm buzz filled your head as all you could think about was Suguru.

When you part once again, you are out of breath. You could see the quick puffs of condensed breath against the cold air. Suguru cups your face with both hands and pecks you on the lips again before getting up.

“We should go back before they think we’re dead.” You stand too, intertwining your fingers with his, and return to campus, hand in hand.