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#And then they go every day with gifts and stuff trying to make him remember
themilosquid · 10 months
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Thank you cole for making me obsessed enough to daydream a full plot for half an hour without any kind of stimuli other than my own creative juices
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thegnomelord · 5 months
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Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.
The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.
So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.
Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?
I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!
It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"
Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.
CW:NSFW
But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—
Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.
It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.
Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.
Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?
You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.
When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.
It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.
You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).
You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.
Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.
You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.
Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.
Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.
You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."
Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"
"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."
"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."
"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.
When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.
He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.
"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.
"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.
But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.
You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.
You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.
Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.
His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.
"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"
One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.
"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"
"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."
You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.
"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.
"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.
Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.
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wavesmp3 · 7 days
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young & stupid
yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)
you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.
genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol
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Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.
Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.
So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.
But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.
“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”
“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”
You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”
This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.
“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”
“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”
You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.
“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”
You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?
And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.
You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.
You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.
You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”
He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.
“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”
You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.
He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”
And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.
It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.
“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.
“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“
You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.
“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”
Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.
“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”
You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.
That fucker.
“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.
Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”
“That was their third time asking me out.”
“And?”
“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”
“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”
He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”
You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.
“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”
“East campus. The Austin Complex.”
He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”
You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”
“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”
“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”
He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.
“Are you crazy?”
“Most people don’t think so.”
“People will honk.”
“It’s 1 am.”
You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.
“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”
He passes the light just as it turns red.
You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.
And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.
You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”
“Payback.”
You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Did you say that outloud?
“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”
You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”
“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”
“Lubinsky.”
Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”
“His quizzes are impossible.”
“Yeah, but he’s funny.”
You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”
He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”
“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.
“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”
You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”
He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”
You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.
Goddamn it–those eyes.
You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”
“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”
“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”
“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”
You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…
Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.
As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.
“Do it again.”
“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”
He points to your worksheet. “One more.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I thought you wanted an A.”
“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”
“Just do it.”
You groan and set up another integral.
To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.
Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.
You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”
“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“
You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”
Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.
He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.
“So can we take a break now?”
He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”
You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.
“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”
“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”
“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”
You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”
He cocks his head. “No?”
You shake yours. “No.”
“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”
“How come you haven’t asked?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.
You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”
“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.
“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”
“So why’d you date him then?”
For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.
The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”
He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”
Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”
He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”
Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”
His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)
“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”
You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”
He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.
You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.
You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.
“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”
You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”
“If we kissed?”
“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”
“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”
You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.
“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”
“Probably?” You echo.
“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.
You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”
He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?
“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”
And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”
He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.
“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.
And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?
Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.
“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”
You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”
He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.
He points to your cup. “Shot?”
You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”
Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.
The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.
“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”
“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)
“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”
You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”
Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.
“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.
“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”
Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.
“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”
Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”
You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”
“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.
They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”
“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”
Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”
Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.
“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”
The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”
Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”
You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”
Joshua leans towards you. “What?”
You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.
The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.
“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”
You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”
He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”
Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”
Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”
“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.
Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”
You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”
“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”
“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”
Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”
Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?
Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.
The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.
The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.
And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.
Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.
There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.
Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.
You swallow.
“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”
Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?
Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.
You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”
“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”
“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”
You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”
His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“It could be.”
Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.
“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.
“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.
Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”
“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”
And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.
Your phone buzzes.
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally
Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s
You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?
Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place
You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb
You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast
You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right
Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD
An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.
By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”
He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”
“Mine? Why?”
“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”
“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”
He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”
You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”
He burps. “Because of me?”
The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”
“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”
You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”
He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”
“And the occasion was…?”
He looks you dead in the eye.
“You make me nervous.”
Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.
Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.
He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.
“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.
He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”
“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.
“But I’m really sorry.”
“And I really don’t mind.”
He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”
You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”
He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.
You mumble back a ‘thanks’.
“So, what’d you think of the game?”
You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.
“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”
“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”
You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”
“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”
“Which assignment? The chem lab?”
You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”
“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”
“Okay, you’re drunk.”
“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”
Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.
“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”
“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.
“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”
Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”
“Did you just cringe?”
“–you smell like vomit.”
“Well, do you have clothes for me?”
“No, but I have a couch.”
He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”
(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.
You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)
When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.
As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?
Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.
“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”
“Date?”
“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.
“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”
“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”
You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.
The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.
“Come on, they’re so cute.”
“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”
“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”
“Good thing we’re not one.”
“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”
You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.
“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”
And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.
“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.
“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”
“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.
You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”
He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”
And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.
“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”
“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”
His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”
“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.
You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.
You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”
“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”
You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”
“Other than Soonyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”
You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”
He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”
“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”
He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”
You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”
He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.
He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”
His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”
“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”
He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”
You squint at him. “Why?”
And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”
Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”
He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”
“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”
The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”
“I thought you hated the ocean.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”
You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.
“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.
Did that just happen?
Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.
He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”
He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.
And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.
The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.
“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.
“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”
“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.
“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”
“Yeah, but the game was fun.”
“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.
“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”
That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.
Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”
“Like what?”
“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”
“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.
You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.
“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”
This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”
But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.
Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”
After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.
He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”
“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”
Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?”
You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”
He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”
Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.
“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.
It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”
You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.
“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”
“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”
You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”
They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.
“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”
“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”
“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”
You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”
You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.
You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.
“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.
You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”
“What kind of rule is that?”
“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”
You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”
He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.
The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.
“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”
He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”
You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”
He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”
You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”
He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”
You kiss him.
You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.
He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.
A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”
“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.
1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.
2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.
3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?
4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?
5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.
6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”
7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”
8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”
9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”
10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.
11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.
12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”
13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”
14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”
15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?
16! Please, you want to beg, say something.
17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”
18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.
The rest of the numbers blur in your head.
(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.
“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”
The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)
You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.
By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.
You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.
You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.
By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.
Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”
You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”
“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”
“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”
You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”
“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”
You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.
You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.
Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.
“Seungcheol called me.���
His face twitches. “Why?”
“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”
He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”
You nod.
He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.
You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”
He nods.
“Do you want a ride back?
He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How would you get back to yours?”
“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”
The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”
“For what?”
“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”
He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”
He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“I’ll drop you home.”
You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.
Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”
“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy fucking shit.
He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”
You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”
He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”
You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I don’t think–”
“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”
He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.
He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.
You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.
You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.
Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”
You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”
“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”
You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.
And you can’t help it, you grin.
You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”
“I told you to–”
“I know what you said.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”
“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”
You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.
“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.
You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.
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rizsu · 7 months
Text
barely delusional megumi, itadori, nanami.
-> tokyo revengers & haikyuu version
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megumi fushiguro.
life as megumi is simple. he is simple. his routine never over-complicates itself nor will he allow it to do so. on top of that, he will always be sure to attend every plan he agreed upon — well, all except for one. you see, the prior plan before the plan with itadori and nobara had slipped his mind. it's only when he checked his phone for the time is when he remembered.
the trio planned for an evening-to-night hangout session. first, dinner. dinner is important. second, an arcade session. third, amusement park. a well-thought plan that can finally make its way out of being just a "plan." kind of.
"hey, are we still on for the arcade later?" itadori asks, licking the drips of his popsicle on his forearm.
megumi opens his mouth only to close it back. he takes a popsicle from the bag, busying himself with the snack, he replies, "can't, i promised my girlfriend i'll sleep over tonight."
silence. it's a sudden moment of silence. the kind of silence before something goes south.
one, two, three...
"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!?"
"YOU PROMISED YOUR WHO?!"
both itadori and nobara voice their astonishment in unison. it's not every day you hear megumi speak about anything bordering romance. megumi, on the other hand, doesn't answer. his full attention is on his popsicle. indeed, he does feel the two pairs of eyes on him but will he respond to their shock? yes, actually.
"i said what i said," he shrugs, not understanding why it's so shocking.
nobara's jaw hangs loose. her popsicle already puddled on the ground. slowly, she regains her mind and forms a sentence, "you — you're not lying, right? is this megumi? FUSHIGURO megumi?"
itadori nods behind her, showing his support for her actions. megumi rolls his eyes, clearly he doesn't like the way they think he's a loser.
"yeah, yeah. when do i ever lie?"
"oh, you're right," defeated, nobara agrees. there's not a single memory in her mind where megumi lied.
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itadori yuuji.
he's bent over gasping for his life. a few seconds ago, itadori ran three floors down the school just for a question. it's an important question and they — gojo and utahime — will answer.
"guys, what do you do when you want to buy someone a gift but that someone is your girlfriend but you're not sure if she'll like it but—"
gojo drops his self-made paper plane, turns his head to the boy and begins, "pause right there yuuji. repeat that again."
slightly confused, itadori repeats himself from the beginning, "what do you do when you—"
yet again, gojo cuts him off, "NOT that part. the one after."
confused, he repeats again, "but that someone is your girlfriend but—"
gojo claps his hands together, sitting up straight and pointing a finger directly at itadori. "THERE — THAT PART."
utahime rubs her forehead, trying to calm down an incoming headache at the elder's childish behaviour. she sighs loudly, shooting a glare at gojo before turning to itadori with a small smile. "what gift do you have in mind?"
itadori, not remembering the gifts he had in mind, starts counting on his fingers. he knows he thought of roughly five gifts, but the question is what were the five gifts.
"uh, i think i had a five-hundred-dollar gift card in mind? don't remember the price but it's for makeup, skincare, and all that stuff!!" he replies, scratching the back of his head in slight embarrassment.
"that's a bit expensive. are you sure you'd want to buy it? if it comes from you i'm sure she'll love it either way," utahime attempts to comfort him. she's a tad bit concerned at the price but hey, love is priceless.
"mhm! it's our anniversary soon, too," itadori nods, feeling his nerves calm a little.
gojo, however, needs to put his input or he'll go crazy. slapping both palms on his thigh, he changes the tone of his voice to a serious one, "son, let me introduce you on the top ten ways to make a woman happy with money."
"gojo, no. don't."
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nanami kento.
a true businessman has now ended his working hours. at 7:30 p.m on the dot, he's now in his office preparing himself for his activities at 8:00 p.m. unknown to him, a little pesky fly slides himself into his office. obnoxiously chewing on some lays chips, gojo questions nanami's new attire, "you look oddly handsome, nanami. you got a date?"
refusing to meet eye-to-eye with gojo, he responds to him, "i do, actually. with my woman." turning around, he still avoids eye contact with gojo. rolling his sleeves up to his elbow, nanami walks to his desk, searching for his wristwatch.
once content with his attire, nanami finally looks at gojo. his visual makes a vein pop out on nanami's forehead. crumbs all over his fingers, hair scattered everywhere, mismatching indoor shoes — just irritating.
"if you excuse me, gojo, i have somewhere to be. exit yourself," gesturing to the door, nanami expects gojo to leave and so he does. just one step away from being out of nanami's office, gojo turns around. something's off.
"yeah yeah, go on with your woman — wait," he begins, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "you have a woman? like, seriously?"
paying no heed to the fly, nanami makes his way to phone you a call. once you answered, he brings the phone to his ear, "i'll be there to pick you up in ten-minutes, okay? ... yeah, i love you too."
"NO WAY," louder than sirens, gojo gasps at the confession and return of love. his once-crumbled fingers now cover his mouth.
nanami, already annoyed by his presence, puts his finger on his lip, motioning to gojo that he needs to shut up.
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I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take
Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking
Vox
(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).
Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)
(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)
I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.
Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.
That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.
So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.
If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.
It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.
His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.
Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.
If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.
(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)
Valentino
Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).
It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.
I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)
After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)
He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.
He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.
He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.
Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.
It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.
Alastor
This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.
It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.
He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.
Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.
If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).
Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.
Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.
Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.
He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.
Lucifer
It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.
When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.
Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.
Get this man a work schedule!
Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.
At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.
Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.
You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.
Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.
Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.
Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.
He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.
You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.
"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.
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justporo · 6 months
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Ok hear me out noble Tav spoiling Astarion everytime they go out
"let me spoil you babygirl"
Oh, hells to the yeah! Astarion would have a field day!
Spoils
"You heard me, Astarion, buy anything you want, I have it covered", you repeated yourself as the vampire looked at you with wide eyes, his mouth had fallen open.
You had taken Astarion into the city, to the district where the best of the tailors in their city had set up their shops. This plan had formed in your head a long time ago when you still had been adventuring. Back then you had sworn yourself that once all this was done you would treat your vampiric partner to the biggest shopping spree.
You were a noble, you could afford it! Gold had never been an issue for you for as long as you lived. So why not use it to give the man you loved and who for so long had barely anything more than the clothes on his back a gift?
"You're insane, darling", Astarion replied when he regained some of his wits.
"No, love, just insanely rich", you replied with a shit-eating grin to which the vampire only rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his index and thumb.
But Astarion still kept standing with you in front of one of the many tailor's shops - showing no intention to go inside. In fact, he looked a little uncomfortable. It was plain obvious that he didn't know what to do in this situation - he wasn't used to being treated like this. And it broke your heart a little.
You would make him get used to it though.
"Come on, Astarion, go in, take a look around. Try on whatever you want and pick all the stuff you want - it'll be my treat", you tried again and observed the vampire as his eyes wandered to the shop door and he pursed his lips deep in thought. Good, at least he seemed inclined to the idea now.
"If it maked you feel better you can pick out something for me to, love", you added with a smile.
Astarion's gaze snapped back to yours, one of his eyebrows lifted and grin spread over his face: "I thought this was about you spoiling me, darling?"
You simply shrugged and mirrored his playful grin: "Then take me up on it before I reconsider!"
And that finally convinced Astarion to get going. He entered the shop while you followed closely behind.
It only took him a few more minutes to adjust to the plan then. The moment he laid eyes upon a piece of clothing that intrigued him all hesitancy was forgotten.
What followed was a whole day of dallying and shopping. Astarion chatted amicably with the tailors who in turn complimented him profusely in just about anything he tried on and blew up his already inflated ego even more. (Although you had to agree, that he did indeed look dashing in just about anything)
You soon became nothing a but a walking clothing rack while Astarion kept piling up more stuff. "Darling, thank you dearly, you're a sweetheart", Astarion cheerfully proclaimed about every other time he threw something more onto the pile while you were barely able to see anything anymore - and it got pretty hot under all the fabric.
But you didn't mind - the joy and ease with which the your vampiric partner dashed through the shops and put together incredible and breathtaking outfits and got swooned over by everyone around was well worth it.
You happily payed for everything and in turn got treated with an outfit that Astarion took his sweet time to pick out for you. The vampire had taste, you really had to give him that. You looked incredible in what he had combined, so you happily piled it on with the other stuff - and then of course paid for it with your own money. It was the thought that counted after all.
Once on your way home, Astarion kept idly chattering, very obviously in an amazing mood from all the self-indulgence. You watched him contentedly, happy to that you had been able to give him this enjoyable experience.
At one point Astarion stopped in the middle of the road - as if he had suddenly remembered something. As you turned to him you just looked at him quizzically.
"Thank you, darling", Astarion said with a genuine smile. "I've never been this spoilt in my life. Well, in the good sense, after all."
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon
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maybankswhore · 4 months
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𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍.
SUMMARY: jj sees you wearing a necklace he got you when the two of you were kids and it stirs up some feelings he thought he forgotten about. ( inspired by @anawritez-posts theodore’s nott fic called ‘the necklace. )
PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader.
WARNINGS: mentions of weed & alcohol. minimal cursing.
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JJ’s eyes immediately found it as soon as you rushed into the Chateau all bright eyed and bushy tailed. Your cheeks were a bashful pink , your hair pulled back in a high ponytail that had fallen just a bit with a few loose strands of hair framing your face. The gold chain shimmered underneath the light that had hit it when the screen door opened , and the familiar seashell necklace captured his attention almost instantly.
“Sorry I’m late!” You rushed out. With nothing but jean shorts and a bikini for a day out on the boat before the annual boneyard party , you stood in front of the Pogue’s with a sheepish smile. “My alarm didn’t go off.”
“No worries , Kiara burnt breakfast.” John B brushed off her worries and glared at Kiara who sent him the same expression back.
“Not my fault that you and JJ were causing trouble while I was trying to scramble the eggs.” Kiara defended.
“Yeah well it’s gonna take all day for the smell to air out of here.” Pope added with a wrinle of his nose.
You only laughed at your friends before looking towards JJ with the tilt of your head. His eyes had been trained on you and his usual loud and obnoxious banter was unusually absent. “What?”
JJ’s eyes snapped towards yours before he shook his head. Clearing his throat before muttering, “nothing.”
“Okay well Pope’s right it does smell bad in here.” You chuckled. “You guys ready?”
A few mumbles of ‘yes’ buzzed throughout the group as they all dispersed to make sure everything was packed and ready to go. You grabbed your bag that held all your stuff and headed outside to wait for him.
“Y/N! Wait!”
JJ rushed behind you , opening the door as the two of you walked towards the boat together. “Yeah?”
JJ swallowed nervously. A weird bubbling feeling began washing up in his stomach. Something that made him feel oddly warm but nauseous at the same time. “I didn’t think you still had it.”
You looked up at him confused before realizing he was staring at your neck again , where the seashell rested on your collarbones. You grinned and nodded , remembering when you first received it. “I saw it hanging in my jewelry box and I haven’t worn it in awhile—” you shrugged. “I used to wear everyday! And it went well with todays outfit.”
The sentiment of the necklace seemed to sway JJ’s mind. He remembered saving up every penny to get it for your thirteenth birthday. He didn’t even think you still had it since that had been years ago. JJ remembered exactly what you looked like wearing it as a girl. Innocent big eyes and dirt covered cheeks. Seeing it on you now as a woman— the woman he had unknowingly grown to adore all of these years , it just seemed to plant something in JJ’s chest. His heart growing three sizes at the thought.
“I can’t believe you still have it.” JJ said softly. Reaching out to grab your wrist and stop you from walking.
You ignored how your skin burned at his fingertips. Pushing down the way your cheeks wanted the flush and your eyelashes wanted to bat. Instead you only smiled at him warmly. “Why wouldn’t I?”
JJ shrugged. Hesitantly reaching out to touch the metal. You couldn’t deny the way your heart beat faster at that. Your chest rising and falling at a pace that you weren’t used to. Watching his every move. “Didn’t think it meant that much.”
His words weighed heavily in the air. You had to swallow the lump in your throat to respond. “It meant everything to me.” You told him truthfully. JJ had been the only person who had gotten you a gift that year. Your parents had been broke , and couldn’t afford anything more than your mother making you a cake from a box. And your friends were all young without jobs. You hadn’t expected anything and you were okay with it then , but when JJ had pulled you aside and gave it to you— that memory had become your favorite.
It was always there between the two of you when you looked back on it. It was always there but unspoken. There was alot of fear not just from you , but from JJ as well. The two of you shared a special connection that not even the Pogue’s could begin to understand.
It was unspoken. But it was there. Hovering over the two of you wherever you went. Holding eachother there in a scared place that neither of you had been ready to visit.
But as JJ looked up and noticed how your eyes glistened. How you glowed so beautifully underneath the sunlight , and how delicate you seemed to be— he was beginning to walk into that place and welcome it for the first time.
And he only hoped that you wearing the necklace meant that you were , too.
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simpleeindulge · 3 months
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What You're Getting for Valentine's Day!
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Info: Fem/reader x One Piece Men, Monster Trio, Eustass Kid, Trafalgar Law, fluff, minor suggestive ideas, soft Headcanons
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He's no Casanova, but the man does pay attention.
While Sanji, Nami, and Usopp are trying to hook him up with the usual stuff, Zoro will get you something you want.
That journal and pen set you liked, that hairpiece you thought was cute, or even the shoes you thought would look good with a dress you haven't worn yet.
He doesn't do it to be different or because he thinks the day is dumb, which he does; he does it because he knows you will like it (and prove to the cook that he does know something about romance).
But yes, he will give you all the gifts the rest of the crew had ready for him anyway.
His gift surprises you because you don't think he pays attention, but the man does.
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Now, he is new to this and does and does not get it. He loves you every day, so why is today different. After getting schooled by Franky, Usopp, and Sanji, Luffy is on board. (Nami offers help, but the boys tell her they got this.)
What follows is some chaos. He will beg Sanji to show him how to make chocolates, ask Usopp to help make a teddy bear, and beg Nami to find an island so he can find flowers. (Robin did offer hers, but Luffy wants to do this on his own.)
What you get is truly something from the heart. A box of lumpy-looking chocolate hearts, a bear that, for some reason, shoots lasers (Franky's idea), and a bouquet of poisonous jungle flowers.
It's hard not to smile at Luffy when he looks proudly at you with his gifts.
You know Luffy cares, and it feels good to see that he had fun treating you.
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The whole nine yards and then some. You're drowning in chocolate and smuttered with flowers. It's so bad that the other men beg Nami to dock the ship so they can escape. (They'll be back later for the food.)
That's fine by him because he has other things planned for you, starting with a long white box with a dark red bow.
Yes, it's lingerie, but it's good quality and something you would wear.
He'll romance you into it by making you a bath, lighting candles, and setting out all your favorite lotions and oils.
The man may be a pervert, but he knows how to turn up the charm and treat you special.
You're basically going to have the Valentine's Day the stores wish they could promote.
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Valen-what-now?! HaHAHAHhahaaa!
Okay, but seriously, Kid is going to that guy who remembers at the very last minute and could give a shit.
Killer is your savior in this department because he knows how to speak "Kid" and what could motivate him. You and sex.
Expect lingerie, flavored oils, heels, jewelry, strawberry chocolates, whipped cream (you know why), silk rope in your favorite color, and candles (to be used differently if he can talk you into it.)
Killer will help set the mood with roses and candles(different ones) and leave the rest to Kid.
Kid may be a rough diamond, but he knows how to turn on the charm, and you won't see it coming till it's too late.
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I would laugh here as well, but Law is an intelligent man. Happy girlfriend equals...PEACE!
He'll do the three essential gifts and think that he is set. It should keep you happy, right?
Well, it will, but after getting a second option from Ikkaku, Law is shocked to learn that he is boring with his lazy Valentine’s wooing. His gifts are fine, but he has no other plans, just the usual daily work!
In a panic, Law will rethink his plan just in time to order the ship to find land. He'll ask you to go with him to a nice restaurant and maybe a walk to see the sunset.
It's cheesy and still predictable, but you love it because Law does not leave his comfort zone for anyone except you (and Bepo). While the flowers are lovely, his time and attention are a better gift.
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j-onedrabbles · 6 months
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Matching pajamas
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❄︎ PAIRING: CHANGBIN X READER ❄︎ CW: DAD! CHANGBIN, FEM!READER, MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY ❄︎ WC: 1.1K ❄︎ NOTE: this barely followed the original plot
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     Shopping alone was dangerous. Especially when it was the holidays. Every store had a lot of cute things out, decoration and clothing-wise. Y/n walked around the store, she and her fiancé's three-year-old daughter, Nari, in the cart, trying to grab everything she could reach. 
     “Should we get new pajamas for the winter?” Y/n asked her daughter as she grabbed her hand away from a rack
     “Yeah,” her daughter agreed 
     Y/n made a detour to the clothes. First, she grabbed a few winter items for her daughter— not that she needed any. Between her and Changbin’s family, the rest of the band, and sometimes their families, her child was spoiled with clothes, toys, you name it. 
     Y/n found a couple of cute pairs of holiday and winter pajamas for her, put them in the cart, and moved to the adult section. She picked up a couple of things for herself and Changbin. Finding pajamas that matched the set she found for her baby. What made it better was they had both her and Changbin’s size in stock. 
     She grabbed both and put them in her cart. She grabbed a few more things she needed before getting in line and checking. 
     Changbin was working late at the studio but promised he’d be home before Nari’s bedtime. One of his favorite things was putting his little princess to bed. Somehow he always made it happen, even when he was halfway across the world. 
     Nari insisted on wearing her new jammies to bed as soon as they got home. It was laundry day so Y/n tossed all the new clothes in with their other stuff as well. Her daughter happily played with her toys till dinner time. 
     Changbin came home tight as Y/n finished drying Nari off after her bath. 
     “Let’s put on our new jammies for Daddy,” Y/n smiled at her baby who jumped excitedly in her towel before grabbing the fuzzy clothes off the counter. 
     “Can you and Daddy wear your jammies too?” Nari asked, stepping into her new footie jammies.
     “Of course baby. Should we show Daddy together?” Y/n asked zipping the jammies up
     “Yeah!” Nari smiled. 
     Y/n brushed her hair out before sweeping her off to her bedroom only to find her fiancé lying on the bed. The producer looked over at the two and smiled
     “Did you get a new set of jammies princess?” Changbin smiled as he sat up and Y/n set her on the bed. 
     “Yay!” Nari crawled over to her dad as Y/n walked over to their dresser “And we got you some too!”
     “You did?” Changbin wrapped his arms around his daughter as he pulled her into his chest. Y/n smiled and tossed him his pair of pajamas.
     “Let daddy shower and put his jammies on then maybe we can watch a movie before bed?” Y/n suggested
     “Movie!!” Nari agreed before trying to get off the bed. Changbin helped his daughter down. “Mommy jammies too!!”
     “Mommy will put her jammies on too. Can you go make sure all your toys are picked up baby?”
     “Okay!” Nari ran out of their room to clean before Changbin pulled his lover down to the bed.
     “Matching jammies?” he asked kissing her neck 
     “Thought it would be cute for the holidays. Don’t think so?” Y/n faux pouted at him
     “No baby, the matching pajamas are great! We’re gonna look so cozy,” Changbin smiled and attacked her face with kisses. 
     “Go shower stinky,” Y/n giggled, playfully pushing him away
     “In a minute. Haven’t seen you all day,” Changbin replied
     “Oh! I have another surprise for you!” Y/n remembered and got out of his arms. Walking over to their closet and pulling a gift bag out.
     “Early Christmas gift?” He asked, sitting at the edge of the bed before taking it from her hands. 
     Y/n smiled as she sat next to him as he opened the bag, took out the tissue paper and gripped the fabric inside the bag. He pulled it out and set the bag aside. Unfolding the little fabric and reading the writing while she wrapped her arms around him. 
     “SPEARB's second single coming this summer!”
     “Are you…” Changbin looked up and down at her
     “Kept saying how you wanted another one,” Y/n smiled 
     Changbin's smile widened as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, “I like this better than the pajamas.”
     “Don’t tell your daughter that,” Y/n joked as patted his chest and got off his lap, “Shower and get your pajamas on Papa Bear.”
     Changbins grabbed the fabric she tossed at him and got in the shower to wash the day away as Y/n switched into her pajamas and found her first baby putting her books away. 
     “Good job baby.” Y/n congratulated her daughter 
     “Need blanky,” Nari said before running off to her room. Y/n sat on the couch and waited for either her daughter or fiancé to come back.
     Her daughter waddled back into the living room, a large SKZOO blanket the group had customized for her as soon as Changbin told them about her pregnancy. Putting it up on the couch then running off again.
     “Where are you going princess!” Changbin caught his daughter and lifted her. Her little giggle scream made his heart melt.
     “Dwaekki! Need Dwaekki!” She yelled.
     “Oh! Let’s get dwaekki,” Changbin carried her to the room and grabbed the SKZOO before joining his fiancée on the couch. 
     “Got everything?” Y/n asked 
     “Yeah!” Nari snuggled up between them with her Dwaekki. 
     “Picture!” Changbin announced as he held up his phone. Nari got up and hugged her dad and Y/n leaned in. Changbin snapped a couple of photos before he was satisfied. 
     “Like your jammies?” Nari asked her dad, petting his shoulder. 
     “I love my jammies, princess. Mommy did a good job picking them out.” 
     Nari plopped down on her dad's lap as Y/n threw the blanket over the three of them while Changbin grabbed the remote and turned the TV on to find a movie for them to watch. Opting more for Nari’s favorite. 
     Changbin wrapped his arm around his fiancée, bringing her closer to him and kissing the top of her head. It was rare to get to have nights like this. Snuggled up in matching pajamas on the couch while both his girls cuddled up to him. 
     Nari fell asleep on her dad's lap, clutching his SKZOO animal like every night. “I hope we have another girl,” Changbin whispered to Y/n
     “Should I go back and get another pajama set for next year?” Y/n joked 
     “No. Just buy new ones next year. And every year after that.”
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SERIES M. LIST ❄︎ MAIN M. LIST ❄︎ TIP JAR
TAGLISTS ❄︎ @starlostastronaut @want2besomeoneelse @aylinbsx @143lix @princesspanda16 @manuosorioh @delulu18 @shaylaxo @chillichillicrabcrab23
© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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starsexplodeatnight · 4 months
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Ghost x Pre-school teacher!Reader
A request from @maxicorn !!! My first request! And its a good one!!!
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It was dark in the back of the plane. But he knew where he was, the fuselage of the plane jerking subtly with their descent.
Simon was home.
Didn't feel like it yet. His mind was still smothered in an oppressive slog of adrenaline that refused to yield and let him relax.
He used to not care. He never had anyone to come home too. Now that he does? He notices. Or really, he cares enough to acknowledge things he's ignored because they worry you.
As much as he hates to worry you, its nice. Nice to have someone who cares.
The door creaks open, blinding them with the light from outside. England was fucking sunny, go figure.
Battered but not bloody, Ghost makes his way down the plane and his feet hit tarmac. It felt good...
The sight that met him was even better.
There you stood, beaming at him. Hair whipping around from the wind kicked up from the plane landing. And all of your students were lined up in front of you.
They all had paper plate masks on their faces, all of them crafted to look like skulls. Mimicking him. Oh god, that fucking hurt his heart.
You had yours propped on top your head so he could see your face.
"Lieutenant!!!" "Ghost!" "Mr Ghost!" All of them cheer, bouncing on place. They all obediently stayed put, they'd promised best behavior if they got to see him land.
How did you manage it? He stood dumbfounded, staring like an idiot.
Laswell, she stood next to you with a miniscule smile... She tips her head towards you and raised her brows minutely. Approval of his choice.
Ghost lumbers over, dropping his duffle and looks down at the tiny humans. They all held out gifts, masks still in place. Macaroni necklaces, pictures of what vaguely resembled him and hand crafted... Stuff... They children all showed their idol.
Simon laughs, a small sound before lurching forward. He snatched your paper plate mask off your head, held it up to sheild your faces as he simultaneously pulls up his mask up. Exposing the lower half of his scruffy face.
The shocked look on your face was worth those 4 fucking rotten months away... So were the disgusted gagging of the little ones.
They crowd him, tugging at his gear, begging for stories as you stare at him star struck. That was the first time he's kissed you in public! Infront of what you believe to be his boss!! You could be wrong but, still!!!
Your face heats up immediately, Ghost chuckles. "Come on." He grunts, grabbing his duffle in one hand and the lead rope for the kids in the other. "Lets get them home."
You try and take the rope from him as the kids all grab on. He let go, only to envelop your hand in his so you both lead the kids off the tarmac...
It was so much fucking better than nice to have someone care...
Years later? Every single one of your students remember you and Simon ... Especially the ones who got to see him come home that day. Some even still have their paper masks, somewhere.
They'll call out to you in the street if they see you. Run up and hug the both of you... The little girls who used to play tea with Simon now tweens, run up and all squeeze him...
(They all have high standards for dating now. If they aren't treated like how Mr.Ghost treated Ms._ then they can beat it!)
They coo over your new baby, all begging to be your babysitter... All begging to be back in your lives again....
So many people care about Simon Riley… he can’t hardly believe it. Even to this day.
Thank you @maxicorn for this!!! It was fun to stew on while I was at work!!!
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lab1rynth · 1 year
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Yan!Zombie
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Yan!Zombie who you met, alive, a few years after the Apololypse started. You both had became friends and protected each other, you had stayed in his base and ate food he found for the both of you. It felt safe, that all changed when you left for a few weeks to find more survivors. You came home to him chained up and turned, a chunk of his wrist was bitten off.
Yan!Zombie who had left you a note before he turned, telling you that he had chained himself up, how it felt as he was turning, how if you wanted to kill him you had full permission to. He just did not want to leave you without answers, so to keep you safe he chained himself up to a wall.
Yan!Zombie who immediately tried going after you when you made noise, being yanked back by the chain. His eyes were locked on yours as drool ran down his chin. It was quite weird to see a zombie that wasn't rotting like most of the others, since zombies are mostly docile unless set off my loud sounds or hungry. He may have run into a hord while scavenging.
Yan!Zombie who, after a while, calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his chains, as even in this animalistic state he could understand that no matter how much he struggled he wasn't going to get out. His eyes stayed pinned on you though, it honestly freaked you out.
Yan!Zombie who you start talking to, of course he doesn't respond, but it feels nice to pretend like he is, to pretend that your only pillar is still alive. You tell him about how he use to act when he was alive, stuff you both did together, sometimes you just told him about your day.
Yan!Zombie who you started feeding raw meat you found, you weren't just going to go out and kill survivors just to keep your zombie friend satiated, that's just wrong. You train him to not try to bite you, waving your hand in front of his face (with protective gear) and not feeding him every time he bit into the gear. It only took a few months until every time you waved your hand in front of his face he just sniffed it a few times and stared up into your eyes.
Yan!Zombie who after a while, you unchained, you had trusted him. The only thing he really did was stumble around behind you, just following you and staring at you confused when you stopped and looked back at him. Sometimes he would go missing for a few minutes then come back with a dead animal, trash, or something shiny. He'd place them in front of you and hope you'd take his gift.
Yan!Zombie who gets touchy after a while, who pokes you or rests his head on your shoulder. He pouts every time you don't pat him on the head when he gets you gifts. If you dont pay attention to him he growls at you or goes limp in the corner of the room, laying and sniffling on the floor until he gets affection.
Yan!Zombie who eats any survivors you bring to the base while your back is turned, causing you to chain him up for a few days for timeout. He whimpers and whines every time you put him in timeout, sometimes convincing you to unchain him earlier than you originally planned.
Yan!Zombie who chases off other Zombies that try to get at you, afterwards bringing you back to the base and cuddling against you, chirping and coo'ing as he lays in your arms and bathes in your scent.
Yan!Zombie who finds a box of his old clothes, sniffing it and wondering why it smelt like him. He dug through the box before finding a comfy shirt and bringing it to you so you could wear it. He would slowly give you more and more of his clothes, loving smelling his scent mixed with yours.
Yan!Zombie who is sensitive to sound, but would absolutely love to hear you talk and talk for days, you're voice reminds him of music, or of what he remembers of music. He would argue that your voice is better if he could talk!!
Yan!Zombie who will honestly die again, and again, and again for you to just be happy. He loves your smile, it makes his unbeating heart feel all tingly. With all the gifts you've accepted from him he assumes you already know he's laid claim on you! You're his and you wearing his clothes and walking with his little trinkets only proves that even more!
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anastasiabowe · 2 months
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𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙊𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂! — Due to work, you and your husband haven’t been as close. He’s been overseas for work, and you’ve been stuck at home waiting for him, but, when he finally comes home, it will be a night you’ll never forget.
note: I'm kind of on my pg/pg-13 era, sorry for people who wanted something more, but I kind of like light stuff!💕
Content warnings: language, suggestive content.
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You lay down on your couch staring at your black screened TV. It was a cloudy day and your penthouse was dark and cold. Your husband’s warmth and cheer felt almost ghost-like in this chilling home. You felt empty and sad knowing he isn’t within arms reach. It’s been 3 weeks.
You haven’t bathed in over a week, and you know you should if he’s going to be home within this upcoming week. You could feel his haunting presence almost mocking you as you try and decipher what’s real or not. Are you being melodramatic, maybe, but a wife should never feel this way!
Nanami has sent you gifts and he calls you every single day multiple times, yet it isn’t the same as him laying on the couch keeping you warm with not only his body heat, but his smooth way with words. For the last few days, the gravity of this situation has finally sunk in. Nanami hadn’t called you in 2 days, and when he did a few days ago, he could sense your feeling of sadness.
You didn’t dare check your phone for a message. You were too sad.
But, with the last strength you had, which was more than you want to admit, you got up from the couch and made your way to your master bedroom and climbed into the huge bed that hasn’t been made in over 2 weeks. The cool blankets that smelled like your miraculous husband made you choke back tears.
Although you haven’t actually cried since he’s left, you wanted to now. You just wanted to feel him and listen to him hum a song to you as you both laid in your bed. You wanted to poke at his abs, or count all of the freckles that marked his chiseled body. You just wanted him under your hands.
You close your eyes, remembering all of the movie like nights you’ve shared with him. How he set up an outdoor theatre in a park, inviting any stranger who had the time to watch with you both, or how he brought you both to couples dancing so he could dance with you on your wedding day, or how he tried to hide the fact he cried on your wedding day.
You felt a tear slide down your cheek, but it was a tear of happiness and gratitude for your husband.
You remembered the time a group of teenage girls boldly approached him asking if he was single, and how he pulled you closer, wrapping his hand around your waist kissing your cheek, making you embarrassed but the girls annoyed. Or how he made you dinner when you were sick, and how he spent so much time and effort into his dishes. You laughed remembering how he made you act like Gordan Ramsey as he presented the dishes calling you “chef” or answering “yes chef, thank you chef” when you talked about how good his food was.
You fell asleep thinking about your husband as you did every day. Several hours later, you were still asleep as Nanami quietly entered your shared luxury apartment. He quietly set his briefcase down on the island, and picked up his suitcase and brought it to your shared room.
He quietly peeked in to see you peacefully sleeping. He pushed open the door and set his suitcase down. He softly smiled looking at you sleeping. He wanted to pounce on you for how excited he was to see you. He has been waiting for this exact moment for 3 weeks.
He took off his tie, and blazer. He slowly slid down his briefs, and set them all semi-neatly on the hamper and headed towards the bed. He softly slid into the bed, and pulled you closer to him from behind you. You immediately felt his arm around your waist, and your heart pounded in your chest, he was finally home!
“Nanami?” You softly called out to him. You felt him exhale on your neck, and you couldn’t contain the excitement. You quickly turned around on the bed, and kissed him before your whole body faced him. He smiled into the kiss and held onto you tightly.
You didn’t pull away until he did, you didn’t know what to do, you just wanted him close, you wanted him so close you could just crawl into his skin, you needed him so bad.
“I fucking missed you, you asshole.” You kissed him excitedly again, and he chuckled.
“I missed you so much more. I felt like I was going to fucking implode if I didn’t see you any sooner, so I caught the earliest plane back here.” He smiled, and you just wanted to cry. You kissed him again, and you didn’t want to let go.
“I’m not going anywhere, save some for the rest of us.” Nanami joked as he slightly pulled you off of him. He would kiss you, but he just needed to see your face. He held your face in his hands, and the love he had for you was so overwhelming. He felt his chest warm up at your smile, and his cheeks flushed looking at your eyes.
“Oh, I missed you so fucking much it hurts!” Nanami confessed and kissed you harder than before.
You climb on top of him, and he wrapped both of his arms around you. This felt like you won a trillion dollars, except it was even better. Nanami pulled you even tighter to him, he held a firm hug, and wouldn't leave any room for you to move."
"I love you, Y/n. I really do." He kissed you again, hugging you even tighter. I smirked pulling away slightly. Yes, you may have missed your husband because of how incredible he was, but you also missed a different part of him. A piece of him you only got to see. A piece of him that ruined you while also putting you back together.
"You said you missed me right?" I looked into his eyes, him obviously nodding and saying, "of course I missed you, I missed you more than anything, why?"
I laughed, feeling almost selfish for what I was about to ask.
"would you mind... Showing me?" The smirk on Nanami's face said it all.
"oh, I'll do more than that."
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junipers-archive · 1 year
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And They Were Roommates
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Word Count: 1k
Includes: Fluff, fluff, some more fluff and a kiss? You confront Spencer about your relationship status after Penelope informs you of everyone's belief of you being more than roommates :)
(Prompt from this challenged by @imagining-in-the-margins)
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You were at the coffee shop nearest to the apartment, desperately trying to find a pick me up. It was 6:30am...a new record for you. Seeing as your roommate and best-friend Spencer hadn't alerted you that you guys ran out of coffee at home, you were now standing in what you deem the longest line in the world you'd ever seen for coffee.
Then again it was one of the first times you'd been up this early to see people who actually got up early. It'd only been 10 minutes but you swore if you didn't get your daily caffeine boost soon you'd start to shut down.
The line was moving at snail pace so you decided to see what the problem was, only to catch a Penelope Garcia with 8 coffees in her arms, trying to balance her way out of the crowd.
Fortunately for her, Spencer had introduced you to the team a few months ago after they'd wanted to see where he lived and he was essentially peer-pressured in showing them by Derek. You'd been given a 5-minute notice at the late hour of 11pm and to this day are still making him pay on movie-nights where you got to choose the film.
You were torn between helping Penelope and staying in your spot in line, but seeing as you remembered how kind she had been and she was about to drop all that coffee, you took pity. Rushing over and calling her name,
"Penelope, you need some help there?"
"ah!-oh hi Y/n, sorry you scared me for a moment! And yes please."
You took one of the trays of coffee from her, holding her purse around your other arm. "Not that I mind helping, but why all the coffee?"
"Well" She was now wobbling over to a table that was just freed up by a couple, talking to you while placing her many belongings on it,
"Sometimes, I like to get up really early and get coffee for the team, cause you know the coffee at work sucks and I'm sure Spencer's already alerted you, but someone's been stealing the curate cups from the kitchen!"
You now placed the tray you had been carrying on the table as well,
"No...uh Spencer doesn't exactly talk about his job much, we usually just talk about other stuff"
She looked surprised at this, "Really? I thought he'd be more open about what he does with his girlfriend. But I guess thats just Spencer."
Now it was your turn to be surprised. "I-I'm sorry, did you say girlfriend?"
"Well, I mean yeah, you live together, he talks about you all the time, and when we went over you two just had so much chemistry we all just assumed-" she stopped talking as she saw the growing disbelief on your face, "I-I just- I'm sorry are you not dating?"
You were speechless. Absolutely speechless.
I mean sure you liked Spencer, he was one of your best-friends and you did live together and yea maybe you had feelings for him. But could other people see it too?
I mean, it made sense, now that you thought about it, you two were practically never seen apart, having roomate-movie-nights, going on consistent 'friend-dates', eating almost every meal together and getting each other gifts for holidays, even sometimes falling asleep in each others beds when you both got black-out drunk on occasion...
Were you dating?
Penelope had taken your silence as her cue to leave, gathering her things, but you had another idea, one that wouldn't leave you overthinking for the rest of the day.
"Wait- I- I'll help you! I mean you can't carry this all yourself!"
"Thank you" she smiled " but you're sure you don't have anywhere to be?"
"Not a place in the world." You would just call in sick today, you thought.
On the drive to the BAU as you talked to Penelope who you found was alluringly talkative, you also realized you might not even be able to get into the building. When you asked she waved her hand, shooing away your worries it seemed as she explained that as long as you weren't a spy you'd be fine for staying a couple minutes since she had clearence.
The topic of Spencer didn't come up again.
Once you got there and helped Penelope up to the office you caught sight of your roommate sitting at his desk. Excusing yourself, you began walking over, It was more decorated than you assumed, containing his adorable action figure favorites and small trinkets you'd given him over the years. And as you got closer you even found he had a picture of the two of you posing at a theme park you'd forced him to go to with you.
He saw you before you were closer, standing himself up as well.
"Y/n? What-What're you doing here?"
"Are we dating?"god you needed to get a filter, but you were really curious.
He sputtered at that, which admittedly made you smile, "I-uh-Who-did Garcia?-What?"
By pure instinct you grabbed his face so he had to look at you now, as he had a habit of looking down when nervous.
You asked him once more,
"Doctor Spencer Reid Are you dating me?"
You could feel him blush against your palms as he answered,
"Uhm...do you want me to be dating you?"
You don't know what had gotten into you that morning, but the next thing you did surprised both of you, pulling him closer as his hands circled your waist hesitantly and you kissed him.
It was soft at first, almost gentle in the way the both of you were nervous, but eventually he deepened it, grabbing one side of your face, the other circling your waist completely now as you arms came to rest around his shoulders.
When you both had to finally come up for air you breathed out your more than obvious response, "yes."
And while you both grinning like idiots at one another, Penelope was adamantly taking photos of the two of you for your wedding which she had already informed Spencer was to be on October 31 of next year.
You never even noticed you didn't get your coffee, knowing you were now with the Dr.Spencer Reid was enough of a pick-me-up to last you a lifetime.
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Reblogs and Comments appreciated!!
Update: Part 2
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iluvzaddies · 1 year
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soft yandere!wanderer headcannons
warnings: none
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the wanderer had many names: kabukimono, kunikuzushi, scaramouche, the balladeer.
after he lost a battle with the well-known traveler, he became the wanderer, a puppet with no strings. a puppet with a different style and his very own anemo vision.
he changed for the better and it was all thanks to nahida, the traveler, and you.
you helped him retrieve his memories along with nahida and the traveler.
you helped out only a bit, but still, he was grateful.
he would feel indescribable emotions whenever you were around. at first, he thought there was something wrong with him, but discovered what he was feeling was in fact love.
“love” was a foreign word to him. ever since his birth, he never once experienced love. his creator, the almighty shogun or the god of eternity, saw no worth in him and discarded him like trash.
sure, he had met a few friends, but neither of them filled the void of loneliness in his heart because they either died or abandoned him.
he wanted to forget his past and focus on the present, so he tried his best not to act in a way he would back when he was a harbinger.
he wanted to shower you in gifts as thanks, but that would be a problem since he wasn’t acquainted with the fatui anymore, meaning he had no mora and would have to make mora independently somewhere.
“sc– i mean, wanderer, what are you doing?” you asked, furrowing your brows, as you saw the ex-harbinger behind a fruit stand.
“oh… i’m just trying out a new job... figured i’d have to do something to make a living since i’m not in the fatui anymore.” he felt his face heat up at the sight of you. just one look at you was enough to make him flustered. “so, this is what sumerians do to make mora? sell pieces of fruit?”
”yeah, i guess. you can try selling jewelry too or make mora off of dancing.” you imagined him, an ex-harbinger, dancing for mora. the thought made you chuckle.
“dancing? for mora? how would that benefit anyone?”
“benefit? people just like that sorta stuff. it’s entertaining for them.”
“i see. do you like that sort of stuff?”
the way he asked that question was adorable.
oh no, did you just find him adorable? he literally tried to kill you, nahida and the traveler not too long ago. how could you find him adorable?
“i– i do like watching dances. nilou’s my favorite dancer. i make sure not to miss out on any sabzeruz festivals or just any sumerian festivals.” you rubbed the back of your neck.
“hm.” he looked like he was actually considering it.
“hey, wanderer, (y/n).” nahida greeted, approaching the both of you.
“oh, nahida! it’s nice to see you again.”
“it’s nice to see you too, (y/n). i’d like to thank you once more for your help back then. traveler and i really appreciated the gesture.” nahida smiled at you then turned to wanderer. “how have you been faring, wanderer?”
“tch, it’s you again–“ he stopped, remembering he wasn’t supposed to act like his arrogant, aggressive self before (at least in front of you). “i mean i’m fine. selling fruit isn’t too hard.” it wasn’t as hard as shedding blood every single day.
“i’m glad you’re doing well.” nahida put a hand on her chest.
“well, i got to go now. you guys continue talking. goodluck with your new job, wanderer. see you around, nahida.” you said, giving them a wave, and left before wanderer could say anything else.
“you have feelings for her, don’t you?” nahida noticed his expression turn from soft to irritated. “i can see the longing look in your eyes.”
“shut up. you ruined everything with your presence.” he grumbled.
he watched as you were getting further and further away from him.
you would be his someday. he’d make sure of that. and once you were his, he wouldn’t ever spend a day apart from you. he would treat you so well. he would shower you in gifts (using his self-earned mora), take you out on “dates” (a human activity where you bring your partner to eat somewhere beautiful, he learned) and eventually confess his feelings to you.
if you return his feelings, oh that would make him the happiest puppet alive. he would happily sweep you off your feet and start a brand new life together with you.
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dior-luxury · 9 months
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Ooh, wait! What would headcanons of Leona, Ruggie, Riddle, Azul, and Jamil with a fem reader who cooks and bakes delicious food for them everyday but does something extra special for them on special occasions such as their birthday or Valentine's Day?
twst boyfriend headcanons
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~ cooking/baking for a B-DAY/Valentines Day ♡ pure fluff / gn. reader
[c]  ࣪⋆་ ˖ .  ︶⏝︶⏝  ୨ ♡  ୧ ⏝︶⏝︶   . ˖ ་⋆ ࣪
-[i] ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯     း   "  Such a cute prompt (≧◡≦)!! I luv 💝 "
pairing] Leona, Ruggie, Riddle, Azul, & Jamil cw] . none
Leona -
He can't help but smile to himself. A sense of pride washed over him as you gave him a pastry.
Leona defiantly loves being token care of. Basically getting stuff is his go to. Without even him thinking about it, the second you give it to him- hes already half done eating.
This lousy lion probably is going to want more of your baking so beware. Leona would probably hang out in the vicinity when you are in the kitchen baking. Sometimes even peeking his into the room to see what your doing.
He would probably want to gate keep your baking from everyone else too.
But since he is not too much of a sweets type of person, he would request you to make at least something with protein in it.
I also could see Leona using the fact the you cook for him everyday as a flex on others. With him flexing on how your able to make delicious food for him- and would remind others of how lucky he is to have you. Reminding of everyone that their single.
He also is your taste tester for every dish that you make. Basically Leona is your very own kitchen cat who sits there and just watches you bake- or at least cook.
Leona hasn't told anyone this, but he pondered on the thought of wanting to make a special Afterglow Savanna cuisine for you- but he remembered that how long it would take.. and since he is lazy he shut down the idea. And instead he had everyone else in his dorm do it. Then after he would claim that he made your favorite dish.
Ruggie -
Pretty sure this hyena would appreciate any gift you give him! But he would love it even more if it was in the food category. Lucky for him you make him the most delicious food in all of 'Twisted Wonderland'!
And it's for him? Extra bonus points! Ruggie could never get over you baking stuff for him. He's used to giving people what they wanted, it's nice to have a sudden change.
Speaking of 'bonus points', this man would be so happy if you give him doughnuts. He would be over the moon basically. Ruggie would also ask if you could make food for him more often.
It has came to a point where he is constantly asking if you can make him food, where you have now became his personal chef.
This hyena boy is already so obsessed that his mind has now comprehended the certain smell of your cooking. He may also get a little annoyed when you give certain foods like the doughnuts that you would always give him- to other people. Ruggie wants to gatekeep your cooking forever.
Such as, if you both are in a public place like the Savannaclaw lobby- he would try and be sneaky and hide your baking from everyone else in the dorm.
Which doesn't help that much being how everyone in Savannaclaw has strong noses and big appetites. But he tries to hide it using his jacket, which wasn't the best idea because he got pounced on by Cheka when he came to vista his uncle.
Which not only cause Ruggie to get attention from everyone in the same room- but the whole dorm. Thanks to Cheka and his loud, cheery voice, Ruggie was getting mauled for doughnuts.
"S/O!- Err- Y/N! the box kinda'-" just then as Ruggie shout, Cheka ran off with the box of doughnuts. Originally only meant for him, as his valentines gift.
Riddle -
Riddle kind of just stands there and doesn't know what to do. Thoughts going through his head left and right, with him trying to analyze the situation.
You would probably have to repeat again that the food you made- is for him.
He would smile lightly, to himself as he would take the food that you made for him. Except he probably wont eat it until later, and wait until lunch or after school.
Riddle is really appreciative of anything that you give him, food, clothes, etc.
Without probably even him knowing, he's blushing and smiling like a little boy on Christmas. And would get teased by his dormmates later on about this.
He lowkey feels special about you baking him food on special occasions. It feels not longer like a made up scenario that would be in a book.
"Y/N, thank you so much for giving me..." He pauses as he looks inside of the pastry box you gave him. "A strawberry tart?!" Riddle's eyes shine as he looks at the tart.
His smiles widens as he looks back at you with a huge thankful smile. "Trey must have gave you the idea.. I feel bad for not being humble about this. But enough said, and thank you."
Riddle is probably the only one that can fully determine the difference between how you and Trey make tarts.
Even if you both would use the same recipe, Riddle somehow can always tell the difference. Which would either be through the flavor or the smell of thee strawberries. It's confusing really.
He would probably try and make you something in return either next Valentines day or your birthday.
Azul-
Gets very cocky. Azul would talk louder and start thanking you for the pastry that you are giving to him. The only reasons he's doing this is because he wants to make everyone jealous and show you off about how you take great care of him.
He probably is still exaggerating for the next 5 minutes. But his plan worked since people are glaring at him with jealousy. And it gets pretty awkward for you in a number of seconds.
Azul is also lowkey impressed with the your cooking ability. But he is not complaining. He likes having someone cook for him everyday since he is usually busy with the Mostro Lounge and being a dorm leader, causing him to sometimes forget to eat.
He usually prefers if you give him food in private since he doesn't always want unwanted jealousy and nasty looks from people. Floyd also gets whiny when he sees you babying Azul with food.
Though during sometimes when people are around and he's not trying to make everyone jealous, he turns a little quieter and smiles whole heartedly.
It's favorite when you just randomly give him a pastry when he works. It strangely makes him work more absorbed in his work before. Very helpful when he losses attention.
Azul also secretly wants to know some of your recipes from the food you make so he can add it as a new dish for the Mostro Lounge. He may also 'joke' around by saying that you should become a chef and work for him.
Azul also now can't leave your pastries that you gave to him, out in the open because Floyd will just end up eating all of them.
Jamil-
He really wouldn't know what to say. To him it slowly starts to get awkward because of previous attempted food poisoning incidents toward Kalim.
So he would closely inspect the baked goods and the box, with his eyes.
He's really not used to getting self-made food from anyone except for Kalim, so it's really special to him.
I could also see him wanting to cook with you sometimes.
But anyways he trust you enough so that you wouldn't poison him.
He would definitely want to share his food with you, he'll feel bad if he didn't.
Hence, if the food you made for him was self made, Jamil insists on helping you clean the kitchen if you haven't already.
Gets very happy when you spoil him with food though, and would want to bring some pastries or cooked meals too his family.
Also likes too call you his "Personal Chief".
Najima also loves your cooking/pastries too the point where she now has a habit of stealing Jamil's share of the food. They had a whole war because of this by the way.
(Jamil couldn't stop smiling the whole day).
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Hi, could i request Alastor x reader where one of them does something nice/gives something to the other not realizing that in their culture it's equivalent of courting/proposing? And since the other is in love with them, they don't mention the connotations and it takes someone else to point it out for them to realize? :)
Going to be honest, I wasn't sure how to write this one, since I'm white and to my knowledge Alastor's a Creole man from 1930s, so I wasn't sure what from either of those cultures could be mistaken for a proposal. After doing some research I'm going to tweak this ask a bit, simply because I am not entirely comfortable representing other cultures that I am not a part of and only have a few hours worth of google research knowledge of. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted. If you or anyone has more specific traditions to use as examples, I'd be happy to try and expand on the idea.
(Or reinterpret this as like, flower language, gift giving symbolism by pagan standards, or crow language. Which not gonna liez my ADHD ass really wants to write a crow sinner giving them weird random stuff they find that they think the others would like.)
Anyway, I'm going to do things you'd do for each other that make you both wanna get married. Hope that's ok!
Alastor
It's not so much a single thing you do, but more like there is a single moment where he realizes he wants to marry you. And to be clear, his idea of marriage is going to be based off of what he grew up with and his own personal level of comfort with romance and intimacy (remember folks, aromantics have a spectrum as well and can get married and have perfectly happy, functional, healthy relationships and marriages).
It's probably not even a big grand gesture or anything. It's more likely something domestic and really sweet. Like it's post the finale fight with Adam, and he already knows he's getting attached because he let you help him get patched up. He lets you in his room, his space, and being touched by you is as easy and comfortable as it is with Rosie and Niffty, who have pretty much a free pass whenever.
Yet you're still always so respectful of his boundaries, of giving him subtle ways to avoid or redirect your touch if he's not feeling up to it. You never push, chosing to take what levels of affection he's willing to express but always letting him know you love him, and this last small thing is the thing that makes it click in his brain.
You bring him his coat, newly patched, cleaned of any trace of blood. The stitching is a little sloppy, crooked, and the fabric isn't lined up as well as it used to be, but you tried. He can see the effort and knows you spent hours holed up in your room after patching him up.
"I know it's not perfect, but it'll hold until you feel well enough to visit your tailor again." You say timidly, as if you expected rejection or critique. And while criticism wouldn't be unwarranted, he's just too emotional to say anything. His smile is gentle, a little wobbly, and he reaches out and brushes the coat aside to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug.
You're just so sweet and considerate, you understand him. He's not going to change, he doesn't want redemption, he thrives off the bloodshed and chaos of hell, but at the same time he's still just a man. And he wants you to be by his side for eternity, if he you want that too. He's never thought of marriage before but now...now he can't stop. He wants to have that with you. Domestic life, something to come home to.
He won't say anything right away, he wants his proposal to be perfect. He's going to have Rosie help him plan this every step of the way, but regardless, one day, you will be his partner.
As for what your moment with Alastor is, I think it entirely depends on what you value most in a partner. However, a general consensus I've seen in most of the fanfics and tumblr posts is the idea of Alastor showing us a softer side.
Not just showing us that he's more than a serial killer and cannibal with his own sense of morality. More than just feeling comfortable enough to let us initiate touch, hut genuinely letting us see past the Radio Demon persona.
Maybe it's by cooking for us and talking about how he learned the recipe from his Mama, which leads into him slowly opening up about her, how much he adored her. What she meant to him.
Maybe it's him and you at the bar in the hotel or in his room, sipping drinks, his jacket off, sleeves rolles up. Letting himself be casual and in a compromised state around you. Maybe he'll even take your hand and spin you across the dance floor like he used to with Mimzy. He doesn't even care if you're not that good, he can teach you, practice makes perfect, he just has fun with you.
Maybe it's a moment where he let's you touch him. Or seeks you out for help because he knows you won't say anything. Or if he humors you and flirts back when you tease him. Or let's say he has a tail and he doesn't snap your head off for accidentally touching it as you go by. Or he agrees to watch a movie with you or listen to a podcast despite how he feels about technology.
Maybe it's just a quiet night, sitting next to each other, each reading a book, his radio playing softly for background noise, and you look up to him to ask a question or say something and he's already watching you, a small, adoring smile on his face.
Take your pick of which one is the moment where your heart stops, your breath catches, and you realize that you wanna marry this man.
And then your delulu ass wakes up, lol.
Decide for yourself if you'd go through with a proposal or if you just accept how things are.
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