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2b4st4r · 3 days ago

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Hello! If I may, may I request an luffy x sweet tooth!reader where somebody from the crew just managed to get a handful of candies, and yet reader missed it because of an afternoon nap and saw luffy eating the last candy. And without any hesitation, grabbed his cheeks and went to steal it via kissing. And then reader walked away like nothing happened.

There's no pressure, take your time in writing, and thank you!

Candy

Luffy x reader

Words: 4,212k

Summery: This narrative follows a Straw Hat crewmember whose love for candy is a defining trait, often leading to humorous interactions and a trail of wrappers. While the crew reacts with various degrees of exasperation and amusement to their sweet tooth, Luffy consistently shows a unique understanding and affection. This culminates in a dinner scene where Luffy, in his usual oblivious yet earnest manner, blurts out his long-held feelings, leading to a flustered but ultimately heartwarming confession under the stars, solidifying their bond with a sweetness surpassing any candy.

Warnings: implied romantic Interest/relationship, minor choking scene(kinda)

A/N: I really hope you like this!! It’s my first request so I hope it’s at least halfway decent!! Ty for requesting it though, I had no idea what to write:3 💗

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

The scent of the open sea was usually enough to get anyone on the Thousand Sunny energized, but for you, it was often the tantalizing aroma of Sanji’s latest dessert creation wafting from the galley. The tantalizing aroma of Sanji’s latest dessert creation usually pulls you from the depths of any daze, far more effectively than the invigorating tang of the open sea. While the rest of your Nakama dreamed of grand adventures and glittering treasure, your own personal paradise was a landscape sculpted from mountains of chocolate, rivers of caramel, and islands made entirely of gummy bears. Being a Straw Hat meant facing terrifying adversaries and sailing into uncharted dangers, but it also promised a seemingly endless supply of sugary delights. Every new port was a victorious conquest in your ongoing quest for the ultimate sweet treat.

You were rarely seen without a lollipop stick dangling from your lips or a chocolate bar half-devoured in your hand, regardless of the time of day. Mealtimes were merely a brief interlude before the main event: dessert, followed by a continuous symphony of snacking. Your pockets served less as practical storage and more as a portable emergency sweet stash. A quick rummage often yielded a handful of sticky hard candies, a squished packet of gummies, or a slightly melted chocolate coin. These were treasures, rarely shared, guarded with a ferocity usually reserved for the One Piece itself.

The only downside to your confectionery passion was the trail of evidence you inevitably left behind. Empty wrappers, crumpled and clinging to invisible stickiness, would frequently spill from your pockets with any sudden movement. The deck of the Sunny, your bunk, even the crow's nest at times, silently bore witness to your sweet tooth escapades. Nami would sigh, Sanji would offer a good-natured scolding about cleanliness, but even they knew the sheer joy you found in your sugary indulgences.

For you, candy wasn't just food; it was pure, unadulterated bliss. The satisfying crunch of rock candy, the creamy melt of chocolate on your tongue, the delightful chewiness of taffy – each bite was a small slice of heaven. It was the vibrant explosion of fruit flavors, the comforting warmth of vanilla, the thrilling tang of sour delights. In a world of pirates and perilous adventures, candy was your constant, sugary anchor, a reminder that even amidst chaos, there was always something sweet to savor.

Your candy habits were definitely a hot topic among the Straw Hats, each with their own wonderfully unique perspective.

Sanji was perpetually torn between culinary despair and reluctant indulgence. "You're going to spoil your dinner!" he'd declare, hands on his hips, watching you unwrap a chocolate bar mere minutes before he served a gourmet meal. "How can you appreciate my cooking when your palate is already coated in sugar?!" Despite his incessant complaints, he'd often find himself baking an extra batch of cookies, muttering, "just in case you run out of your… emergency rations."

Nami, ever practical, focused on the aftermath. "Another wrapper!" she'd shriek, holding up a crumpled candy foil she'd found stuck to your shirt. "Do you have any idea how many of these I find scattered around? It's like living in a confectionery explosion!" Yet, beneath her frustration, she'd occasionally slip a small, expensive piece of chocolate into your hand, a rare treat she'd picked up just for you.

Chopper was a mix of scientific curiosity and genuine concern, often bordering on wide-eyed astonishment. "The amount of sugar you consume is... medically fascinating!" he'd exclaim, examining a pile of empty wrappers. "Your energy levels should be off the charts, but you're surprisingly stable! Can I... can I have that last gummy?" he'd occasionally ask, his large, hopeful eyes fixed on your stash.

Usopp often found your sweet tooth oddly inspiring. He'd occasionally try to invent "candy-powered gadgets" or "sugar-fueled projectiles," usually with disastrous and incredibly sticky results. He was also the first to attempt to barter a grand, exaggerated story for a piece of your candy, though you rarely fell for his schemes.

Zoro mostly ignored your habits, as long as they didn't interfere with his sacred naps or rigorous training. He'd sometimes eye your candy with a gruff indifference, but if you actually offered him one, he'd take it with a surprising lack of ceremony, probably just to make you stop talking.

Robin observed with quiet, knowing amusement. She found your childlike delight in sweets rather endearing. She'd occasionally share fascinating historical anecdotes about famous confectioneries or rare sugary treats from ancient civilizations, knowing you'd listen intently, captivated by her words.

Franky just thought it was SUPER! "That's how you stay so energetic, right, little sweet tooth?! A super dose of sugar to power up!" He'd even tried to integrate candy storage compartments into his own body, much to everyone's collective dismay.

But Luffy... Luffy's reaction was always the most special. He never scolded you, never complained about the mess, and never questioned your endless appetite for sweets. Instead, he simply understood. He'd watch you, his own eyes wide with a similar childlike wonder, as you savored each bite. He'd often try to sneak some of your candy, giggling mischievously when he succeeded, but he'd also be the first to share his own food with you, especially if it was something sweet. More than once, he'd just sit beside you, happily munching on whatever you offered, his presence a comforting warmth. He saw your love for candy as another part of who you were, another facet of the person he cherished. And sometimes, when you were both quiet, sharing a particularly delicious piece of candy under the vast sky, you'd catch him looking at you with a soft smile, a look that said, clear as day, that your sweet tooth was just one more thing he adored about you.

The familiar sizzle and fragrant steam drifting from the galley signaled that Sanji was hard at work. The rest of the Straw Hats were scattered across the deck, soaking in the lazy afternoon sun. You leaned against the railing, a half-melted cherry lollipop cool against your tongue. The sweet, tangy flavor was a small piece of perfect contentment, a tiny bead of sugary saliva glistening at the corner of your lips as you contentedly sucked on it.

Suddenly, a rubbery arm slung around your shoulders. "Shishishi! (Y/N)! Got any candy?" Luffy's grin was wide and infectious, his black eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You pulled the lollipop from your mouth, the sticky sweetness lingering. "Sorry, Luffy," you said kindly, tilting your head. "I'm almost out, and I wanted to save what's left for when we can restock at the next island."

Luffy's smile faltered, replaced by a comical pout. He whined, a drawn-out "Awwww, come ON, (Y/N)!" that made Zoro groan from his napping spot. He circled you, his hands reaching out and then retracting, clearly battling his desire for sweets against your polite refusal.

Then, a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. In a flash, his hand darted forward, plucking the lollipop right out of your mouth. Before you could even register what was happening, the cherry candy was in his mouth. He then swiftly yoinked his beloved straw hat from his head and plopped it onto yours, the brim slightly obscuring your vision.

With the lollipop still firmly between his lips, Luffy leaned in, his gaze intense for a fleeting moment. His tongue flicked out, catching the remaining sugary sheen from the corner of your lips before he pulled back, a wide, utterly guileless smile plastered on his face. He made a happy little humming sound, the cherry lollipop now his prized possession. He seemed completely oblivious to the stunned silence that had fallen over the deck.

Your face exploded with heat. Your cheeks burned, and your heart hammered against your ribs. All you could do was stare, wide-eyed, at the back of Luffy's head as he bounced off to show his pilfered treat to Chopper. His straw hat felt suddenly heavy on your head. Around you, you could feel the weight of your crewmates' gazes – Sanji’s eyebrow twitching, Nami’s jaw slightly dropped, Usopp stifling a snicker, Robin’s lips curved in a knowing smile, Franky letting out a low "Suuuper… bold!", and even Zoro’s one visible eye seemed to have widened almost imperceptibly. The taste of cherry and something… else… lingered on your lip, and all you could manage was a deeply flustered blush.

The silence that followed Luffy's audacious move was thicker than the caramel you'd once spilled on the deck. It stretched, taut and expectant, broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.

Sanji, ever the romantic, was the first to snap out of his stupor. A faint plume of smoke curled from his cigarette, and his eye twitched. "Luffy, you idiotic rubber brain! What kind of move was that?!" he spluttered, torn between outrage at the lack of decorum and a grudging, unspoken admiration for Luffy's sheer audacity. He shot a quick, concerned glance your way, his usual protective instincts kicking in.

Nami finally found her voice, a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "Luffy! You can't just... do that!" She looked at you, then back at Luffy, then at the lollipop still in his mouth, shaking her head. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you!"

Usopp, who had been trying desperately to hold back his laughter, finally snorted, covering his mouth with a hand. His shoulders shook with suppressed mirth, occasionally punctuated by a high-pitched squeak. "He just... he really just did that!"

Chopper, surprisingly, was less flustered by the action itself and more by the implications for his candy. "Luffy, you stole her lollipop! Now she has less!" he cried, looking at your blushing face with a worried frown before turning his attention back to the pilfered treat in Luffy's mouth.

Zoro, who had been feigning a nap, slowly opened one eye. A small, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he watched your flushed face. He let out a low chuckle, a rare sound. "He's got guts, I'll give him that."

Robin's eyes sparkled with knowing amusement, a faint smile gracing her lips. She simply watched, her usual calm demeanor unwavering, clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding before her. She understood Luffy's actions, perhaps better than anyone else on board.

Franky pumped a fist in the air, a booming laugh erupting from his chest. "SUPER! That's a super way to get your sugar, little brother!" He seemed utterly unconcerned with the social implications, focused purely on the 'efficiency' of Luffy's method.

As for you, the world seemed to have tilted on its axis. The straw hat felt impossibly heavy on your head, its familiar weight a strange anchor in the swirling daze that had overtaken you. The lingering ghost of cherry sweetness on your lip mingled with something else entirely – the faint taste of salt and the undeniable warmth of Luffy's skin. Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure the entire crew could hear it. You could feel every eye on you, every shared glance, every suppressed giggle.

Luffy, meanwhile, was completely oblivious. He was already bouncing towards the galley, eager to show Sanji his new acquisition. "Sanji! Look! (Y/N) gave me her lollipop!" he announced triumphantly, completely misinterpreting the situation.

You could only stand there, frozen, the heat in your cheeks spreading all the way to your ears. You reached up, hesitantly touching your still-tingling lip. Your mind raced, trying to process what had just happened. Luffy, your captain, your friend, had just… licked your lip. And then given you his hat. It was so utterly, perfectly Luffy, and yet, it had sent a jolt through you that was anything but innocent.

Your face still felt hot, even as you pulled Luffy's straw hat down, letting the brim hide your burning cheeks from the amused gazes of your crewmates. The coarse straw tickled your nose, and the faint scent of adventure and Luffy clung to it, making your stomach do a funny flip. You kept the hat pulled low for a good hour, pretending to be utterly engrossed in the waves or a particularly interesting cloud formation, anything to avoid eye contact.

An hour later, the irresistible aroma of Sanji’s cooking finally pulled everyone to the dinner table. Tonight, it was a succulent seafood stew, rich with herbs and brimming with fresh catches. As everyone settled down, digging in with gusto, you still felt a little self-conscious, occasionally peeking out from under the brim of the hat you were still wearing.

"So, (Y/N)-chan," Sanji began, a teasing glint in his eye as he served you a generous portion, "did you enjoy your… shared lollipop? I hope it didn't spoil your appetite for my magnificent stew."

You mumbled something unintelligible, pushing a piece of fish around your bowl with your spoon.

Nami snickered, nudging Usopp with her elbow. "She's still blushing, Sanji! Look!" she crowed, much to your chagrin. "Honestly, Luffy, you’re usually so focused on food, but you really outdid yourself today."

Luffy, meanwhile, was oblivious, happily slurping his stew. "Shishishi! It was really good, Nami! (Y/N)'s candy is the best!"

Chopper, ever the innocent, piped up, "But Luffy, you ate her lollipop, so it was your candy, technically, after you took it. And (Y/N)'s heart rate was really high!"

Usopp leaned across the table, whispering loudly to you, "So, was it a power-up, (Y/N)? Did you feel suddenly super-charged after the captain’s… transfer of sugar?" He made air quotes with his fingers, barely suppressing his laughter.

Zoro just grunted, taking a large swig of sake, but you could swear you saw a flicker of amusement in his eye as he watched the scene unfold. Robin merely smiled into her teacup, her eyes twinkling as she observed the crew’s antics. Even Franky let out a booming "SUPER SMOOTH MOVE, CAPTAIN!" before taking a massive bite of his stew.

You just wanted the floor to swallow you whole. Every comment, every knowing glance, just added fuel to the fire in your cheeks. You focused intensely on your stew, hoping that if you ate fast enough, they'd forget all about the lollipop incident. But somehow, with this crew, you knew that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.

You kept your head down, trying to become one with the stew, hoping the teasing would simply dissipate into the evening air. It was no use. The occasional snickers and knowing glances continued, each one a tiny pinprick on your already flaming cheeks.

Then, Luffy, bless his oblivious heart, suddenly slammed his hand on the table, making everyone jump. He swallowed a mouthful of stew with a satisfied gulp, his eyes sparkling.

"Oh! I know!" he declared, completely unaware of the fresh wave of mortification about to crash over you. "Next time, I'll actually kiss (Y/N)! They looked so cute when I took their candy!"

Utter Silence

The entire table went completely silent. Even Sanji, mid-chew, froze. Nami's spoon clattered into her bowl. Usopp choked on his food. Chopper gasped. Robin's gentle smile vanished, replaced by an expression of pure surprise. Zoro, who had just been about to take another swig of sake, lowered his cup slowly, his one visible eye wide. Franky simply stared, his jaw slack.

Your face, if it were even possible, turned a shade of crimson that Sanji's tomatoes couldn't hope to rival. The straw hat on your head suddenly felt like it weighed a ton, pressing down on the swirling chaos of your thoughts. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing desperately for the deck to open up and swallow you whole. Luffy, meanwhile, simply beamed, completely pleased with his brilliant revelation, reaching for another helping of stew.

You, mid-chew of a perfectly cooked piece of fish, promptly choked. A violent coughing fit wracked your body, doubling you over. Your face, already the color of a ripe strawberry, deepened to a shade of beet.

Concerned, Chopper immediately sprang to action. "Are you alright, (Y/N)?! Are you choking?! Franky, give them the Heimlich! Usopp, don't just stare!"

Luffy, however, remained utterly oblivious to the commotion he'd caused. He just tilted his head, watching your struggles with a slightly puzzled expression. "What's wrong, (Y/N)? You look weird!" He then continued, completely unprompted, "But yeah! I always wanted to kiss you! Ever since you showed me that candy stash on the first island we met, I knew you were going to be great! You're really fun, and you always smell like sweets, and you don't even complain when I sneak extra food sometimes." He paused, taking another large bite of stew, his eyes wide and earnest. "I knew I loved you back then!"

The coughing stopped, replaced by a stunned, strangled silence. Even Chopper, who had been about to administer a forceful pat on your back, froze, his tiny hoof hovering in the air. The expressions around the table morphed from concern to absolute disbelief, then to various shades of shock and amusement.

Sanji dropped his fork with a clatter. "Did he just...?"

Nami's jaw dropped so low it looked like it might hit the table. Her eyes darted from Luffy to you, then back to Luffy, a mixture of disbelief and utter exasperation on her face.

Usopp looked like his brain had just short-circuited. He pointed a trembling finger at Luffy. "He just... he just said...!"

Zoro, for the first time in a long time, actually spit out his sake. He stared at Luffy, then at your shell-shocked face, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across his lips.

Robin covered her mouth with a hand, but her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Her eyes, however, held a warmth that went beyond mere amusement, a touch of genuine delight.

Franky let out a low whistle. "SUUUPER... unexpected!"

You, meanwhile, were frozen, the straw hat still perched on your head, your eyes wide and fixed on Luffy. His declaration, so simple and guileless, hit you with the force of a tidal wave. All this time, you'd thought his attention was just... Luffy being Luffy. But "loved you since the beginning"? It was so him – blunt, honest, and completely unaware of the bomb he'd just dropped. Your blush, you were sure, was now permanent. The seafood stew suddenly tasted like cardboard.

Luffy, completely oblivious to the utter pandemonium he’d unleashed, simply continued to eat, humming happily. He occasionally glanced up, a puzzled frown on his face when he noticed the continued silence and the unmoving stares of his crewmates.

You, on the other hand, felt a strange mix of emotions. Embarrassment, yes, a tidal wave of it, but beneath that, a warmth began to spread through your chest. Loved you since the beginning? It was so incredibly Luffy—direct, honest, and utterly without filter. He hadn't meant to cause a scene; he'd just stated a truth as casually as he might ask for more meat.

Sanji was the first to recover, albeit slowly. He let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Well," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, "that certainly explains a few things about the captain's... enthusiasm for your candy." He then looked at you, a soft, understanding smile replacing his usual exasperation. "Don't worry, (Y/N)-chan. He means well."

Nami, still wide-eyed, just started laughing again, a little hysterically this time. "Oh, Luffy," she managed between gasps, "you just... you just confess your undying love over dinner?!"

Usopp, who had recovered enough to speak, pointed at Luffy dramatically. "This is it! This is how the greatest love stories begin! With a stolen lollipop and an accidental confession!"

Chopper, ever the pragmatic one, looked at Luffy with a mixture of awe and confusion. "But Luffy, that's not how you're supposed to say things like that! You're supposed to be romantic!" He then looked at you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "(Y/N), are you still choked? Your face is still really red!"

Zoro, having finally swallowed his sake, just shook his head, a wry grin on his face. "Only our captain," he grumbled, taking another sip.

Robin's laughter subsided, but her eyes remained warm and gentle. She simply offered you a knowing, comforting smile. "It seems our captain's heart is as straightforward as his appetite, (Y/N)."

Franky, after a moment of stunned silence, slapped his knees. "SUUUPER BOLD! That's how a man expresses his feelings! No holding back!"

You finally managed to push the straw hat off your face, taking a shaky breath. Your heart was still thumping, but the initial shock was giving way to something else. Looking at Luffy, who was now bickering with Usopp about the best way to eat a fish bone, you saw no malice, no teasing, just pure, innocent affection. He genuinely meant every word. A small, genuine smile bloomed on your face, replacing the blush. It was ridiculous, embarrassing, and utterly, perfectly Luffy. And in that moment, surrounded by your loud, chaotic, and endlessly loving crew, you wouldn't have had it any other way. The taste of cherry, and something undeniably sweet and warm, lingered.

A few hours later, the moon hung high, casting a silvery glow over the silent deck of the Thousand Sunny. The boisterous energy of dinner had long since settled into the gentle rhythm of the ship rocking on the waves. Most of the crew were either asleep or winding down in their quarters, leaving the deck peaceful and quiet. You found yourself drawn to the cool night air, sitting by the railing, gazing out at the endless expanse of the ocean. The earlier embarrassment had faded, replaced by a soft, thoughtful quiet.

A familiar shuffling sound broke the calm, and then a warm weight settled beside you. Luffy. He plopped down cross-legged, remarkably quiet for once, his eyes also fixed on the glittering water. For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, the only sounds the creak of the ship and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.

He shifted, turning his head to look at you. In the dim moonlight, his eyes seemed even brighter, reflecting the stars above. "Hey," he mumbled, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Hey."

"You okay?" he asked, his gaze unwavering. "You got really red at dinner." There was no teasing in his tone, just genuine, simple concern. He really was oblivious.

You chuckled, a quiet, almost shy sound. "Yeah, Luffy. I'm okay."

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. Then, he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I really meant it, you know." He picked at a loose thread on his shorts. "About loving you." He looked up, his innocent eyes meeting yours directly. "Since the beginning. You're my Nakama, and you're... you're really great, (Y/N)."

The moonlight seemed to amplify the sincerity in his voice, and your heart gave another one of those familiar, happy thumps. There was no grand declaration, no passionate speech, just Luffy being Luffy, open and honest about the feelings that had resided in his big heart all along.

You swallowed, the sweetness of the lingering lollipop still a ghost on your tongue, now mingled with the overwhelming sweetness of his words. There was no artifice, no hidden meaning, just the raw, genuine heart of Monkey D. Luffy. It was exactly like him to blurt out a confession over dinner, and then repeat it under the silent stars, completely earnest.

You looked at him, truly looked at him. His straw hat was no longer on your head, but the feeling of it was still there, a comforting weight. He was gazing out at the sea again, seemingly content just to have said his piece. He wasn't demanding a response, wasn't expecting anything. He was just Luffy.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a mix of awe and pure affection. The embarrassment from earlier had completely vanished, leaving only a profound sense of warmth. Your own heart, usually only truly stirred by the prospect of new sweets, now beat with a different kind of craving.

"Luffy," you began, your voice a little shaky, but clear in the quiet night.

He turned his head back to you, his eyes wide and curious.

You took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage. The salty air filled your lungs, and the vastness of the ocean seemed to hold your secret, waiting for it to be set free.

"I..." You paused, a small, shy smile finally breaking through. "I love you too, Luffy." The words, once thought impossible to say to someone so chaotic and grand, felt utterly right, like a missing piece of a puzzle clicking into place. "More than all the candy in the world."

His eyes widened further, and then a slow, impossibly wide grin spread across his face, even brighter than the moonlight. He let out a joyous "Shishishi!" and then, without another word, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, surprisingly gentle hug. You buried your face in his shoulder, the scent of sea and adventure filling your senses, and knew, with a certainty sweeter than any candy, that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece luffy #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy x reader #lolipop #request #reqs open #straw hats x reader #straw hat pirates #straw hats

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yes-no-maybe-soo · 6 hours ago

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⚠️Timelock Key Spoilers⚠️

........

Oh my poor flowerboy 💔 the way he consoles himself for his failed efforts destroys me... and the way he talks about his soul being cursed... how he feels doomed or damaged to some extent... fuck this one hurts... Really hurts. I had to step away to collect my thoughts and emotions and legit broke down crying in the shower over it. I don't even know how I'm supposed to put my thoughts into words tbh... what even is happiness because idk anymore

Remember how MC told Sylus that flowers suit him better than Taurus City? Yet here he is in a place where none can grow.

Remember how Sylus said to MC that Taurus City can have flowers bloom everywhere but only for one person? And in the N109 Zone he tries his hardest to make that happen before her arrival but it's useless, no matter what he does.

Because the thing is.... the flowers can't bloom without MC in his life. Without her, the soil – and his life – is barren.

He is a flowerboy who can't grow flowers without his beloved.

What if I kms

"They just don't bloom at this time" he has to be patient... to wait for the right moment (14 years, to be exact).

Which brings me to an image from Tangible Shackles...

I think it's deeply meaningful and deliberate that we see this lone flower blooming in this desolate place in the same frame as Sylus walking on the road to reunion with his soulmate. I think it's representative not only of literal flowers beginning to bloom, but of Sylus' life as well.

Like I mention above I think we can interpret the flowers in the timelock key as also being representative of Sylus.

Remember how Sylus often likens MC to sunshine?

(There are more examples of him doing this but this video call is what first came to mind for me)

Well, if MC is Sylus' sunshine, and Sylus is a flowerboy, then it only makes sense that he needs her in order to bloom, doesn't it? To bring color and life into his existence.

And from what we do know of his existence before MC, it seems he was often bored and lonely (he had the twins and Mephie, yes, but they can't fill the void of his literal second half. No one can. He isn't complete without her and therefore cannot properly flourish).

And I mean... think about it. It's all in the imagery. When they're together, they're often surrounded by flowers and flower imagery. The Datura Field. The Grasslands. The wildlife park. The valley in Valleydream Bloom. The whole spring event.

It's very symbolic.

Another interpretation that can be made is that MC is the flower.

Sylus does after all call her that

She is his flower just like she is his sunshine. But it took time for her to "bloom". He had to be patient and wait for the right time for her to be ready. And he gave her that time – 14 years – and once they met, never pushing or forcing her (apart from early LAR but he learned his lesson and never repeated that mistake).

Idk does this make any sense? I'm honestly just in so much pain rn and it's pretty hard to try to theorize anything rn... I just know that this makes a lot of things (like Valleydream Bloom and the spring event) hit a lot harder... and also knowing how much he suffered emotionally in those years spent without her.

But on a brighter note, at least he can make flowers bloom now that he has his sunshine back 💗

He can finally give her that field of flowers he mentioned in Beyond Cloudfall 🥹

(Oh and can't believe I almost forgot to mention this but... SylusMC = HadesPersephone is becoming more and more real now, guys. The parallels are becoming so clear).

Ok so tomorrow's Timelock

... I see we're not done with the emotional suffering 💔 (play LADS they said... it'll be fun they said... no word about the pain and trauma and crying sessions in the shower...)

I interpret this as pre LAR (has to be since this is about uncovering Sylus' past). I think it's meant to represent how Sylus was keeping watch over MC from a distance... hidden and unknown to her. Too selfless in his love to approach her. Willing to wait in silence. For her to be ready to turn around and come to him rather than go to her himself.

Like the Sweet Evil Trap states "I'm waiting for you". Not "I'm coming for you" or "Come find me". It says everything about him, doesn't it? How much he values her autonomy and free will. How unselfish he is in his love. How willing he is to suffer through being without the 10.5 grams of his soul for her sake.

#lads spoilers #to be a sylusmc girlie is to suffer #will try to reply to another ask later but honestly i'm not in the mindset rn. need to recover from this pain first #sylus x mc #sylusmc #sylus #mc #lads sylus #mc lads #lads mc #sylus lads #love and deepspace sylus #mc love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #sylus love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace

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h1nanii · 1 day ago

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Stuck on You [pink clouds pt.3]

Pairing: Plug! Law x fem!Reader [ Pt.1 ] [ Pt.2 ]

I honestly didn’t expect this story to be this loved but here’s pt.3💗

Genre: ModernAU! NSFW 18+, Smut, Soft Dom dynamic. Princess treatment]

[Warnings: Explicit language, Violence, Weed use, p in v sex, riding, pinning, dirty talk,Couch sex, possessiveness, infidelity themes, pet names, first exchange of “I love you’s”] MINORS DNI

He wasn’t used to it—but the idea of you made him switch. it’s no longer just hook-ups and high nights. It’s official. It’s Law choosing to show up for you, making it known: he’s yours now. Fully. And he’s going to do it right—his way.

You didn’t even hear the knock at the door.

You just got a text.

‘Law🤍’

come outside, ma. wear that brown dress you like. hair down too.

You blinked.

Wasn’t a request. Wasn’t a question. But your heart still skipped like it was your first time seeing him.

You got dressed—brown slip dress hugging every curve, hair falling soft down your back, lip gloss just a little extra.

You stepped out into the dusk.

And froze.

Law was leaned against a car you didn’t recognize from his others, matte black ‘74 Cutlass, his hoodie swapped for a fitted black tee and a gold chain you’d never seen him wear before. His rings were polished. His hair clean and shaped up. He looked like trouble in the most intentional way.

But the thing that hit you hardest?

He had flowers.

Big ones. Soft pinks and peaches. Wrapped in white tissue and held like they were the most fragile thing in the world.

He looked up and grinned, all slow teeth and heat.

“There she is.”

—

He took you out the city—somewhere coastal, away from all the noise. A little rooftop place with dim lights, ocean air, and no cameras. Law had a table reserved already, tipped the hostess before you even sat down.

“You’ve been here before?” you asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Heard it was your vibe.”

That was Law.

He didn’t ask what you liked. He just knew.

Dinner was soft. Warm.

He listened when you talked. Really listened.

Asked questions. Told you stories he hadn’t shared before—about the first time he got arrested, how he started dealing to cover his father figure’s hospital bills, how he never planned to be this deep in, but “fuck, I’m good at it.”

You saw him raw that night. Unpolished, honest.

And it made you fall harder.

—

After dinner, you ended up parked at the edge of a cliff, wind rushing through your hair, the city lights a soft blur behind you.

You leaned against the car, dress swaying, heart loud.

Law lit a blunt, passed it to you, then leaned close, his voice low.

“I ain’t ever done this before,” he said. “Dates. Feelings. All that shit.”

You looked at him, eyes soft. “Yeah?”

He stared at you for a long second.

Then slipped something out of his pocket.

A box.

You froze. “Is that—”

“Relax,” he laughed. “Not a ring.”

He opened it.

A gold chain. Thin. Simple. With a little charm on it:

“You’re mine now,” he said. “To really lock it in.”

You bit your lip, throat thick.

“I been yours.”

He stepped closer, clasped it around your neck himself.

Then pulled you in and kissed you like it was sealed.

—

3 months later, Your necklace still never left your neck.

Neither did Law.

You were solid now—together. He slept at your place more than his. You stocked snacks he liked. He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. You started calling each other “baby” out loud and not just in texts.

And tonight? You were going to a party. Something chill—close friends, music, drinks, rooftop. You were invited by your girls. Law by his clients, but you were going together.

You wore a black fitted dress with sheer sleeves and a glossed-up smirk that made Law kiss you before you even made it down the stairs.

“Don’t start unless you ready to cancel,” he muttered, eyes low on you.

You laughed, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “You can handle it.”

He could. Until he couldn’t.

The rooftop was packed—but familiar. Music bumping, smoke in the air, drinks in red cups. You made your rounds with Law tucked close behind you—always a hand on your waist, kept his eyes on you when his hands were busy making business. You were glowing, and he was proud of it.

Until it happened.

You felt it first.

That weird chill up your spine.

And then—

“Damn… still fine, huh?”

You turned.

Him.

Your ex.

The one who barely texted you back but always wanted to “talk” at 2 a.m.

The one who called you dramatic when you cried.

The one who never, ever showed up.

The one who was only here cause he was chill with Vivi’s boyfriend.

Law turned his head, slow. Making his way back to your side.

“Something you need, bro?” he asked, jaw tight.

Your ex smirked. “Just saying hi.”

“Keep it pushing.”

He laughed. “What, you her security guard now?”

“Nah.” Law stepped forward, tone sharp, “I’m her man.”

That’s when your ex made the mistake.

He looked at you and said, “For now.”

And that was it.

Law swung. Without thought, hesitation or care.

The fight was fast but ugly. Fists, shouts, bodies pulling them apart. The ex got one good hit in—but Law made his land. Security came. Loud sirens then Cops followed. Someone had called it in.

Next thing you knew, Law was being cuffed with force, yelling over his shoulder at you as he got dragged into the vehicle—thankful that he sold his last gram before getting into that altercation.

“PINK SHOEBOX—CLOSET—BEHIND THE STACKED ONES.“

You watched as the police car drove away, the flashing lights fading in the distance, confused to what he meant till you made it back to his apartment.

Deep In his closet, hands on the pink shoebox you recognized from the day he took you shopping, giving him a personal fashion show at home that turned into rough nasty sex with empty shopping bags & boxes scattered across the floor.

Your hands tucked the box open and the confusion went away.

“Holy shit…” you coughed out a whisper.

It had to be at least 20k in stacks. Rubber bands securing the wads of cash together. You pulled out a few wads and tossed them into your purse. Putting the shoebox back into his secured spot before rushing to the station.

—

Six hours later.

Law sat in your living room, a towel pressed to his split lip, hoodie half off, ribs bruised.

You were pacing, heart pounding.

“You know how scared I was?” you snapped. “You couldn’t just walk away?”

He scoffed. “That man disrespected you.”

“And you getting locked up fixes that how?”

Silence.

He looked at you—really looked at you.

“I’m not used to walking away,” he said finally. “I spent years having to fight for everything. I see someone threaten what’s mine? I react.”

Your voice cracked. “And if they had kept you?”

He stood up.

Walked over slow.

Took your face in both hands.

“They didn’t. Because you came for me.”

You swallowed.

“I’m not built for this street shit, Law.”

“I know, baby.” He kissed your forehead. “I don’t want you to be.”

You looked up at him.

“I’m scared of losing you.”

His voice dropped. “I been scared of losing you since the first time I woke up in your bed and didn’t wanna leave.”

You stared at him—heart cracked wide open.

Then?

You kissed him.

Hard.

Desperate.

—

You didn’t even make it to the bedroom.

Your dress was halfway off, your body still vibrating with adrenaline and anger and love as Law kissed you like he was trying to memorize you with his mouth.

You barely made it to the couch.

His hoodie was gone. Your dress was peeled down your arms. The necklace he gave you swung lightly between your breasts as he laid you out across the cushions, eyes dark and hungry.

He took his time at first—hands roaming your thighs, your hips, your waist. Every touch said mine. Every kiss was layered with frustration and fire. You tangled your fingers in his curls and pulled, and he groaned against your throat like it undid him.

“You mad at me, baby?” he muttered, lips brushing your collarbone.

“Yeah,” you whispered, breath catching.

“Show me.”

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, pushing him back into the cushions with your palm on his chest. The other hand sliding off your panties like it was muscle memory. His hand tugging down his waistband lazily to free his dick. Already stiff-hard, needing you on it ASAP.

His hands gripped your hips as you moved, grinding your heat against his cock slow and deliberate, your rhythm fueled by tension and heat and love that had nowhere else to go. His head tipped back, jaw tight, assisting you as you finally wrapped a hand around his shaft, positioning it up and lowering yourself down to the base.

letting you take control—but his grip on you stayed firm, grounding you, steadying you.

“You look so good like this.” he groaned. “Riding like you own me.”

“I do,” you panted.

“You do.” He repeated.

You kissed him—biting, deep—and kept going until your legs started to tremble, the burn building. Law noticed.

His hands slid down to your thighs, steadying you.

“Getting tired, baby?” he asked, voice low, hoarse, teasing.

You swallowed a whimper. “Shut up—”

“Mm.” He grinned. “Let me take care of it.”

And then he moved.

One arm curled under your back, the other hooked around your thigh as he flipped the two of you, pressing you into the couch, pinning your wrists above your head.

His hips met yours in a slow, devastating grind. Over and over. Deep and steady.

You gasped—words lost to the rhythm of him. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth.

“I got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe with me.”

And when you finally shattered beneath him—legs shaking, eyes glossy, voice raw—he followed soon after, buried in the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin.

You lay tangled on the couch, his fingers still gently stroking your ribs.

It was quiet for a long time.

Then you whispered, voice shaky

“I love you.”

He kissed your shoulder. Then your lips.

“I love you too.”

And for the first time, it didn’t feel scary. It felt inevitable.

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wndaslovergrl · 21 hours ago

Text

𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

A/N: HIIIII this is my first post, some mommy wanda hcs hehe! I hope u enjoy 💗.

‎♡ Midnight Comfort

Wanda can always sense when you’re having trouble sleeping—whether it’s stress or nightmares. Without saying a word, she’ll pull you into her arms, and use a soft fuzzy blanket to wrap you up, while using her magic to soothe your mind to sleep.

‎♡ Blanket Enthusiast

She is a full believer in “can never have too many blankets”. She surrounds you with them on the couch, in bed, and will wrap you in one herself while calling you her “sweet girl” and “baby”.

‎♡ Gentle Discipline

The times where you tend to push yourself too hard, skip meals, or don’t take breaks, Wanda turns stern but in a loving way. She knows it doesn’t take much for you to listen, you enjoy being a good girl for her most of the time.

‎♡ Sweet Mornings

Every morning, she wakes you up with kisses, soft murmurs, and warm tea or coffee (anything of your liking). If you’re especially sleepy, she’ll let you rest your head in her lap (which happens almost every morning) while she strokes your hair softly and whispers little “My sleepy baby..” “It’s time to get up honey” “Oh my baby is just so tired isn't she?”.

‎♡ Soothing Thoughts

When you are having your bad days, overwhelmed, on the verge of a panic attack over small things, she lies you down on the couch, or bed and gently places her fingertips on your temples and channels calming magic that feels like a warm breeze inside your body. “Just breathe my love, mommy’s got you.”

‎♡ Always Prepared.

Wanda always keeps a mental list of your needs. Your medication? Check. Little snacks? Always. She has a way of remembering the little things that make you feel cared for—even when you forget yourself.

‎♡ Words Of Affirmation

She is constantly reminding you of how proud she is of you. “You’re doing so well today, sweetie.” “I see how hard you’re trying.” “You don’t have to be perfect to be loved by me. I already love you more than anything, my lovey.”

#mommy!wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy wanda hcs #mommy!wanda #marvel #wlw #wanda x fem!reader #age re safe space

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al-1-na · 23 hours ago

Note

I want to make a humble request to my Queen. I don't find much good fics with a black soft feminine girl as the female lead with a white boy. I don't mind much about the troupe, I just would love to see a interracial couple. So, please! And thank u in advance!! 💗🎀🦢

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rafe Cameron x black!soft!Reader

𝐂𝐖: Contains explicit sexual content, emotionally intense dynamics, mild references to violence

You’re not the type of girl Rafe Cameron usually messes with.

You’re soft. Not fake-soft—real soft. You smell like shea butter and brown sugar, wrap your hair at night, speak low and thoughtful like you know your words carry weight. Your voice doesn’t rise when you’re angry. You just get quiet, and that silence holds more power than any scream.

People mistake you for fragile. But you know exactly what you are.

And you’ve never given Rafe the time of day.

Not because you hate him—but because you see too much in his eyes that reminds you of things you’ve worked hard to leave behind.

You don’t expect to find him on your porch.

It’s late. The sky is purple with salt-heavy clouds. You’re in a robe, hair twisted up, cocoa butter on your skin. You hear the knock, gentle but persistent.

And when you open the door, there he is—Rafe Cameron.

Leaning against the railing, one eye swelling purple, knuckles scraped raw.

Your lips part, but no sound comes out.

He doesn’t look like himself.

He doesn’t look like anyone.

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he mutters, voice low. “Can I sit?”

You hesitate. Not because you’re afraid. But because you know what your softness does to people who’ve never known care without strings.

“Yeah,” you say finally. “Sit.”

He lowers himself onto the wicker bench. His hands tremble a little. You close the door gently behind you and go get your little box of healing things: arnica gel, cotton pads, witch hazel, honey balm your auntie swears by.

When you come back, he’s still staring out into the night.

You kneel in front of him, placing the kit beside you.

“Let me see,” you say softly, brushing a curl from your face.

He flinches when you touch him. Not like he’s afraid of you—like he’s afraid you’ll be kind.

You dab the witch hazel on the bruise gently. He sucks in a breath.

“You don’t have to fix me,” he says.

You tilt your head. “I’m not trying to. Just don’t like seeing people bleed when I can help it.”

He doesn’t answer.

Your hands are careful, your touch light. You smooth balm over his cheekbone, fingers gliding over pale, flushed skin.

“You ever gonna tell me who did it?” you ask.

“No,” he says. Not coldly. Just… final.

You nod once. “Okay.”

That’s when something shifts. Something quiet.

You feel it in the way his shoulders drop. The way his eyes flicker over your face like he’s seeing you all at once.

“You’re always like this?” he asks suddenly.

“Like what?”

“Soft. Calm. Like you… float through shit.”

You smile a little. “Soft doesn’t mean untouched, Rafe. It just means I don’t let the world harden me.”

He blinks. Like that thought never occurred to him.

“I don’t know how to be that,” he whispers.

“I know.”

You don’t know how it happens.

One moment you’re tending to his wounds.

The next, you’re still kneeling, but now his hand is in your hair. His thumb traces your jaw, his eyes searching, asking for something without words.

You could say no. You could stop it.

But you don’t.

Because something in him is open for the first time. Something raw and human and real.

So you lean in and kiss him.

It’s not a messy kiss. It’s not fast or desperate.

It’s quiet.

Your lips brush his, slow and soft, like a whisper. His fingers tighten in your hair, but he doesn’t push. He waits.

You climb into his lap on the porch bench, robe falling open slightly. Your thighs straddle his, and your hands press to his chest—warm and solid beneath your touch.

“You’ve never touched me before,” you murmur against his mouth.

“I know,” he breathes. “Didn’t think you’d ever let me.”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d ever ask.”

You take him inside.

He moves like he doesn’t trust the walls not to close in. Like this house is too soft, too sacred for him. You guide him to your room, dim with candlelight and jasmine incense curling in the air.

“You good?” you ask gently.

He nods.

“Then breathe.”

You let your robe slip from your shoulders. His mouth parts, eyes wide. He doesn’t reach for you.

You reach for him.

Pull off his shirt. Kiss each bruise. Let him feel your hands over his ribs, his back, his arms. Let him be seen—not stared at, not judged. Seen.

When he finally touches you, it’s with care you didn’t know he had.

He cups your face. Presses his lips to your throat, your shoulder, your sternum. And when you slide down onto the bed and guide him between your legs, he whispers, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Because for once, he’s not taking.

He’s receiving.

He moves like he’s learning your body, not conquering it.

You moan softly when he enters you, and he stills like he’s overwhelmed. You pull him closer, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “You don’t have to hide here.”

And he breaks.

Not in tears. But in tension.

He rocks into you slow and deep, his breath stuttering against your neck, your skin slick and warm against his. Your fingers curl into his back, your lips at his ear.

“I got you,” you whisper.

And you mean it.

Not forever.

Just for tonight.

Just enough.

You feel him shudder when he comes—soft, gasping, buried in you with reverence. You kiss his jaw as you follow, breath trembling, body arching into his.

And when it’s done, he doesn’t let go.

Not for a long time.

Later, your fingers brush through his hair as he lies with his head on your chest.

“You still think soft is weak?” you ask.

He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

“No. I think it might be the strongest thing I’ve ever touched.”

𝐚𝐧: tysm for this request i hope you’ll like it:3 also sorry that i took so long but i’m pretty stressed bc of school and my private life. but i’m gonna write all the requests on the weekend ig:)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @daryldixon83 @favzcarpentr @soft-starr @k4yr14 @43hughes @cokewithcameron @psychocitylights

#𝐚𝐥 𝟏 𝐧𝐚 #drew starkey #fanfic #drew x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine

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godricgryffinsnore · 1 day ago

Note

Regulus Black trying to explain why divinationstudent!reader sees nothing but water in his future (he can't tell her the plan and make her a liability) angst and a lot of trying to distract her with other things... 💗

Where the Water Takes You ♡ : A Regulus Black Fan Fiction.

pairing : Regulus Black x divination!student!reader

summary : Years after Regulus Black’s death, a Divination student who once saw nothing but water in his future uncovers a hidden letter explaining the truth behind his sacrifice. As memories resurface and grief crashes over her like a tide, she finally understands the boy who died with her name in his heart—and the ocean in his fate.

warnings : Canon character death, Grief and mourning, War themes and aftermath, Emotional manipulation (through secrecy), Mentions of drowning, Intense angst, Survivor’s guilt, Poetic but heavy emotional language. Please let me know if I missed any <3

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : Okay so this? WOW, the request had me shook. I cried the entire time writing this because Regulus Arcturus Black has had a painful death and he did not deserve any of it. But thank you so so so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy <3

word count : 1.5k

main master list <3

1st picture credit goes to @panchashire!!! 💗💗💗

banners : @omi-resources and @cafekitsune

The first time you saw it, it shimmered blue and endless—an ocean folding in on itself, soft and infinite.

Water.

Not fire. Not war. Not darkness.

Not death.

Just water.

You looked into the bottom of your teacup, the leaves swirling like whispers caught in a storm, and all you could think of was him.

“Regulus,” you murmured, blinking slowly, “I think something’s wrong with your future.”

He looked up from his Potions textbook with that maddening, aristocratic calm. One elegant brow arched like he’d been summoned by a question far too trivial to be worth his time.

“Is that so?” he asked, all silk and thorns.

You swallowed. “I keep seeing water. Only water. Nothing else.”

── .✦

He came to every divination session after that. You hadn’t invited him. He simply… began to appear. Draped in his Slytherin uniform like it was war armor, with his hair combed perfectly back, lips smirking in subtle disapproval of the incense curling around him.

“I find tea revolting,” he’d murmur, sipping anyway. “Like drinking perfume. But I suppose, for you, I’ll endure.”

You rolled your eyes, and he smiled.

But when you peered into his cup again—

Water. Water. Always water.

“Could mean you're going on a cruise,” he said dryly. “Perhaps a romantic elopement with someone tall, charming, and much less emotionally unavailable than I am.”

“Stop deflecting,” you said, your voice low. “This is serious.”

Regulus tilted his head. “You’re far too charming when you’re trying to worry about me.”

“Regulus—”

“You should be more worried about yourself,” he whispered, brushing your cheek with knuckles cold as marble. “Being near me is a liability.”

── .✦

He never told you.

Not when he kissed you by the Black Lake like he was afraid the moment would drown him. Not when he held you in the Astronomy Tower, whispering constellations against your collarbone like prayers. Not when he said, “If there’s ever a future where I’m not in it… I want you to keep looking for stars.” Not even when you begged to know why you saw nothing but water in the crystal ball.

He laughed it off with charm that cracked at the edges.

He told you to try reading his palm instead, “At least then you get to hold my hand.”

He told you, “Maybe I’ll become a mermaid. My hair would suit the aesthetic.”

He told you everything and nothing, like a boy trying to build a dam against a flood he’d already chosen to drown in.

── .✦

The night he left, the cup shattered.

The water spilled across your floor. Your fingertips trembled with the cold.

You knew.

Oh, you knew.

You tore through the common room in bare feet, screamed into the fire in the Slytherin dorms, begged Kreacher at the edge of the kitchens—but Regulus Black was gone.

── .✦

And under the cave, in the silence of the Inferi’s water, he died alone.

He drank poison until his hands shook too hard to hold the locket. He gasped for air that wasn’t there. He cast spell after spell, but the dead pulled him down, saltless and blind, arms like anchors. And as the darkness closed over him, he did not scream. He thought of your eyes. He thought of your tea leaves. He thought of how you always called him stubborn, how you never saw a future with him in it—only water.

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

── .✦

You found his journal years later. Stuffed behind a charm textbook in Grimmauld Place.

“I couldn’t tell her. She’s the one good thing I’ve done without being told to.” “She deserves a future I can’t give her. But I hope she finds one where I’m not just another ripple.” “If she sees water, I hope it’s a lake where she swims, not one where I drowned.”

── .✦

You never drank tea again. You hated the taste of perfume.

But every year, on the day he vanished, you filled a cup and poured it into the sea.

And you whispered,

“I saw the ocean before you fell into it, Regulus. I just didn’t know I was already drowning.”

── .✦

The letter which Regulus wrote before his sacrifice:

To You, My Light.

If you are reading this, I’ve already walked into the water.

I wish I could say I walked away from you instead, but I didn’t. I carried you with me. Every breath I took, every lie I told, every moment I pretended I was still a boy who had a chance at something like forever.

But the truth, darling, is that I never belonged in the future you saw. I was always meant to disappear beneath it.

There’s a locket.

A cursed one, black as sin and bright as betrayal. It belonged to the Dark Lord. It's a piece of his soul—yes, his soul. He tore it apart and hid it in trinkets like trophies. He thinks it makes him immortal.

I found one. I planned to take it, to destroy it. And I knew that doing so would destroy me too.

I didn't tell you. Not because I didn't trust you—but because I did. Too much. You would have followed me. You would have burned your wings to drag me out of that cave.

And I couldn't let you die for a future I already ruined.

The water you saw, in every cup, every crystal—it wasn’t a symbol, it was a map. The lake. The Inferi. The place I chose to end it. Not for glory. Not even for redemption.

But for a chance. For a real one. For Harry. For the war. For you.

I hope the war ends with someone braver than I am standing in the light. I hope you laugh again. I hope you fall in love again, though I know I have no right to hope that. I hope, when you look at the water now, you see the sky reflected in it. Not me.

But if you do see me—

Just know I never regretted loving you.

Not for a second.

Not even while drowning.

Forever yours, Regulus Arcturus Black (Your fool, your ghost, your greatest liar)

── .✦

The house still smelled like dust and ghosts.

You hadn’t stepped inside Grimmauld Place since the war ended—since Harry had claimed it by blood and sorrow. Even then, you'd kept away from the drawing room, the library, the staircase with that one step he always skipped.

You couldn’t look at this house without seeing him. Without smelling the ink he used. Without hearing his voice curl around your name like a prayer he wasn’t allowed to say out loud.

But today—today you let yourself in.

Not to remember. To let go.

That was the idea, anyway.

You wandered through the study on accident, really. Your fingers brushed old spines, parchment, and corners of shelves that had memorized his silhouette better than you ever could. You weren’t even sure what you were looking for—until you found it.

Tucked behind a worn copy of Secrets of the Darkest Art and a shattered inkwell.

His journal.

You recognized the emerald thread binding it. The neat handwriting on the spine. The way the corner was slightly torn—he’d torn it himself, in a fit of frustration, the day he got blood on the page and couldn’t stand the imperfection.

It fell open on its own. Almost willingly.

And nestled between the pages, folded like a secret never meant to be found—

The letter.

The seal crumbled under your thumb. The wax broke like a curse releasing itself into the air. Your hands trembled. You tried to laugh, to curse, to breathe.

And then you read it.

Line after line. Word after word. Ink bleeding into the cracks of your soul.

“If you are reading this, I’ve already walked into the water…” “There’s a locket…” “You would have followed me.”

You sank to the floor. No ceremony, no grace—just knees hitting wood like you were praying to something long dead.

“Regulus,” you whispered. His name. That name. “You absolute, arrogant, beautiful fool.”

You pressed the letter to your chest. Held it like it could beat for you. Like it could speak the words he never did. The ones he took to the bottom of that cave.

And then the tears came.

Not the quiet kind. Not the dignified, war-hardened sobs you’d trained yourself to release behind bathroom doors.

This was grief raw and childlike. This was ten years of silence collapsing inside you.

He loved you. He always had.

He died for the world. But he left you behind in it.

You crawled toward the hearth and fed the fire with your sobs, staring into the flames like they might give you a vision again—some final glimpse of him.

But there was only water in your eyes. Only echoes in your chest.

You took his journal. Clutched it like a relic. And when you left Grimmauld Place, you didn’t look back.

But you whispered one thing into the wind, just in case the ghosts were listening.

“I forgive you. But I’ll never stop waiting by the shore.”

#della 𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼 #della answered ⋆˚✿˖°#regulus black x fem!reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #regulus black #regulus deserved better #regulus black x you #regulus x you #regulus fanfiction #regulus black fan fiction #della’s inbox 𐙚⋆°🦢｡⋆♡

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synity · 10 hours ago

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pleaaaase write about woozi having a partner who is soft and sweet…and they tend to get into trouble or accidents because they are too kind and good for this world?

am i even making sense? 😭 (i personally think the longer the better (like it doesn’t have to be just one scenario haha)…but please do write it how long or short you want it to be)

ps I love your writing and I love fluff💗

Thanks!

Sunshine & Sunshine protector

(Lee Jihoon x FemReader)

*Slice of life, fluff, Romance, Soft, Comfort, Gentle Intimacy Emotional support, vunerability, Emotional Drama, Healing, Intimate Domestic*

The first time Woozi met his partner, he already knew they were different. Not in a flashy or striking way but in the quiet, unshakeable gentleness that surrounded them like a soft glow.

They had a heart too big for this world.

It was a Sunday morning, sunlight slipping softly through the thin curtains, dappling the small apartment in warm gold. Woozi stirred, blinking awake, and immediately felt the familiar weight of his partner curled against him, breath soft and steady on his chest.

her fingers lazily twined, a silent communication that said more than words could. Slowly, his partner’s eyes opened, still heavy with sleep, and she smiled at Woozi, sleepy and sweet.

“Good morning,” Woozi whispered, voice thick with affection.

“Morning,” she replied softly, voice like a lullaby.

she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Woozi’s waist as if they never wanted to let go. Woozi breathed in their scent something fresh, like morning rain and lavender and smiled.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair behind their ear.

“Better now,” she murmured, resting their head on his shoulder.

For a while, they just stayed like that a tangled heap of limbs and warmth letting the quiet fill the room. The small things mattered most here: the gentle squeeze of a hand, the brush of a nose, the peacefulness of shared silence.

His partner’s kindness wasn’t just a trait; it was a force of nature. And sometimes, that force pulled them into trouble.

One afternoon, Woozi was in the studio, scribbling down melodies, when his phone buzzed insistently.

It was a message from her: “Please come home. Emergency.”

His heart immediately tightened. He grabbed his jacket and rushed home.

When he arrived, he found his partner sitting on the porch steps, clothes smudged with dirt, a scrape on their elbow, and a small, frightened kitten clutched in their arms.

“I found her stuck under the dumpster,” she said quietly, eyes shining with concern. “I couldn’t leave her there.”

Woozi sighed, half exasperated, half amused.

“You’re going to wear yourself out with these rescue missions,” he said gently.

“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “How could I leave her?”

He knelt beside them, taking the kitten into his hands to check it. “You have a heart too big for your own good.”

she smiled weakly.

“And that’s why I have you,” they said.

Their mornings were rarely dull, especially when they cooked together.

One rainy Saturday, the two of them decided to bake cookies, the smell of rain tapping against the windows and the warm scent of vanilla filling the kitchen.

But true to form, their partner’s sweet nature caused the usual chaos.

They insisted on sharing cookies with every delivery person who passed by their door.

Woozi chuckled, watching as their partner bundled up a small bag of treats, waving goodbye to the courier outside.

Inside, flour was everywhere on counters, on their noses, even in their hair. Their partner giggled as Woozi tried to catch flying dough balls, slipping and almost falling.

“Be careful!” Woozi warned, laughing.

“Where’s the fun in being careful all the time?” they teased, nudging him with a flour-covered elbow.

Despite the mess, Woozi loved these moments the way her laughter bounced around the small space, how her eyes lit up with joy at the simplest pleasures.

But beneath her bright smile and boundless kindness lay a vulnerability Woozi rarely saw.

One night, as the city’s lights flickered below their balcony, Woozi found his partner sitting alone, knees drawn to their chest, gaze distant.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked softly, sitting beside them.

They hesitated before whispering, “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too much. If my kindness just makes me weak.”

Woozi’s heart clenched.

“You’re not weak,” he said firmly, turning to face them. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“But I keep getting hurt… and I’m afraid I’ll break.”

He reached out, taking her hand gently. “Then let me be your strength. You don’t have to carry the world alone.”

Tears shimmered in their eyes, and Woozi pulled them close, holding them until the fear faded.

Woozi’s love was in the details the way he always made sure his partner had a warm cup of tea after a long day, the soft hand on their back when they needed comfort, the quiet presence beside them during sleepless nights.

One evening, when his partner was exhausted from helping a friend in need, Woozi noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the tremble in their voice.

He cooked her favorite soup, carrying the bowl to the couch where she sat, wrapped in a blanket.

“Eat,” he urged, spooning the warm broth into their mouth.

she smiled gratefully. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“I just want to take care of you,” Woozi replied.

Not every moment was tender; sometimes they teased each other mercilessly.

One afternoon, Woozi found his partner attempting to fix the sink with absolutely no plumbing knowledge.

Water sprayed everywhere, soaking Woozi’s shirt.

“Seriously?” he groaned.

she laughed, water dripping from their hair. “I’m trying!”

Woozi shook his head, grabbing the wrench. “Leave it to the professional.”

she pouted, but the sparkle in her eyes was unmistakable.

“You’ll always have to rescue me, won’t you?”

“Every time,” Woozi said, pulling her into a playful hug.

After a small concert, Woozi surprised everyone including his partner by publicly acknowledging their relationship.

Taking the microphone, he spoke softly but clearly.

“This is my partner. The kindest person I know, who teaches me every day what love really means.”

His partner blushed deeply, hiding in his side, while the audience cheered.

Later, Woozi teased, “See? I’m not so shy when it comes to you.”

she laughed, squeezing his hand.

Sometimes, when the world was quiet, they shared their deepest thoughts.

One night, wrapped in blankets on the balcony, Woozi asked, “What scares you most?”

his partner hesitated.

“Losing myself. Or losing the people I love.”

Woozi kissed their forehead.

“You’ll never lose me.”

“And I’ll never stop trying to be better, for us.”

He smiled, heart full.

One lazy Sunday, as they lounged in bed, Woozi asked, “Where do you see us in five years?”

she thought carefully.

“A home filled with laughter, music, maybe a few cats.”

Woozi grinned. “Cats, huh?”

“Yes, definitely cats.”

He laughed, pulling her closer.

“We’ll build that life. Together.”

Their life wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was real, filled with love, tenderness, and the kind of kindness that changed everything.

And through it all, Woozi promised to be the steady hand, the safe place, the unwavering love that their partner deserved.

Because sometimes, being too kind for this world just means needing someone who will never let you fall.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Woozi's partner, Y/N, decided to take a leisurely stroll through the bustling city park. The laughter of children and the chirping of birds created a harmonious backdrop. As Y/N walked, she noticed a small boy, no older than four, standing alone near the fountain, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Y/N approached gently, kneeling to meet his gaze. "Hey there, are you okay? Where's your mommy?"

The boy sniffled, "I can't find her."

Concerned, Y/N took his hand. "Let's find her together, okay?"

They began walking through the park, Y/N asking nearby adults if they recognized the child. After several minutes, a frantic woman spotted them and rushed over, her face a mix of relief and fury.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling the boy into her arms. Then, turning to Y/N, her expression darkened. "What were you doing with my son? Were you trying to kidnap him?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "No! He was lost, and I was helping him find you."

But the mother wasn't convinced. She called the police, accusing Y/N of attempting to abduct her child

Within minutes, police officers arrived, separating Y/N and the mother to hear both sides. Y/N explained the situation calmly, emphasizing their concern for the child's safety. Witnesses corroborated Y/N's account, noting their efforts to find the boy's mother.

After reviewing the evidence and speaking with all parties, the officers concluded it was a misunderstanding. They advised the mother to be more vigilant and apologized to Y/N for the distress caused.

Later that evening, Y/N recounted the incident to Woozi, tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just trying to help, but she thought I was a kidnapper."

Woozi pulled them into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry you went through that. Your heart is pure, and you did the right thing. Don't let this change who you are."

He held them close, offering solace and understanding, reinforcing his unwavering support.

In the days that followed, Y/N grappled with the incident's emotional aftermath. Woozi remained by their side, encouraging her to continue being kind but also to be cautious.

"Your compassion is one of the things I love most about you," he said. "But it's okay to set boundaries and protect yourself too."

Together, they navigated the complexities of kindness in a world that sometimes misunderstood it, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.

The sun was shining softly through the wide city streets, casting warm golden hues on everything it touched. Y/N loved days like these quiet moments when the world felt calm, and even in the chaos of everyday life, there were little chances to help others. She wandered through the park, her heart always open to the small things: a stray cat needing water, an elderly person struggling with their bags, a lost child looking for comfort.

As she walked past a bench near the flower garden, Yn noticed an elderly woman shuffling slowly, a knitted bag hanging loosely from her arm. The woman’s steps faltered, and in the bustling movement of a passing crowd, the wallet she clutched slipped from her grasp and tumbled onto the sidewalk, landing with a soft thud on the concrete.

Yn’s heart immediately leapt. She crouched down quickly and picked it up, holding it carefully in both hands. “Excuse me, ma’am! You dropped this,” she called out, her voice gentle and warm.

The old woman turned sharply, eyes narrowing as she saw Yn holding the wallet. “What are you doing with my wallet?” she snapped, the tone icy and suspicious.

Yn smiled softly, trying to calm her. “I picked it up right away. I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

But the woman’s expression didn’t soften. Instead, it twisted into a scowl. “I don’t know who you are, girl, but you best not be trying anything funny.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. She could feel the sting of distrust, something she rarely encountered, especially when all she meant was to help. “I’m not trying anything,” she said quietly, stepping closer and extending the wallet toward the woman.

But the woman waved her off with a sharp motion. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she growled. “I don’t need some meddling young girl making my day worse.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion, but she kept her composure. “I just want to give this back. You dropped it.”

“Don’t ‘just want’ me, don’t ‘just want’ me, don’t come near me!” the woman spat suddenly, her voice rising and attracting the attention of nearby pedestrians.

Y/N’s heart sank. “Please, I’m only trying to help,” she said, taking a small step back, trying not to escalate the situation.

But the woman’s face was twisted with anger. “You think you’re better than me? Coming here with your fancy attitude, trying to play the hero? You’re nothing but a nosy troublemaker,” she hissed. “You don’t belong here, and I want you gone.”

Y/N blinked, shocked by the harsh words. The woman’s voice cracked as she continued, bitterness and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Who do you think you are, trying to fix everything? You’re just a foolish girl who thinks the world owes her something. But let me tell you nobody wants your help. Nobody needs you.”

Tears pricked Y/N’s eyes, but she swallowed them down. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this especially by someone she tried so hard to care for. But the woman wasn’t done.

“You’re just another spoiled kid with your bright eyes and soft heart, thinking you can save everyone but yourself,” the woman sneered. “Maybe if you spent less time interfering and more time minding your own business, you’d get somewhere in life.”

The crowd around them grew uneasy. A few people glanced over, but no one stepped forward to stop the verbal attack.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she clutched the wallet tighter. Her throat felt dry, and a quiet ache settled deep in her chest. She had never wanted anything more than to be kind, to make a small difference in someone’s day, but here she was facing sharp words and cold rejection.

“I... I just wanted to help,” she whispered, voice barely audible, fragile like a glass ready to shatter.

The woman sneered one last time and turned away, muttering curses under her breath as she shuffled off down the street.

Yn stood there for a moment, stunned and hollow. The weight of those words pressed on her like a stone, heavy and cruel. Yet, somewhere deep inside, the part of her that always saw the good the hope still flickered quietly.

She looked down at the wallet in her hands, still hers to return, and sighed softly.

Helping sometimes came with pain, but it never stopped being worth it.

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of the insult sinking deep inside her. “I only wanted to help,” she said again, voice breaking.

The woman turned abruptly and began to walk away, muttering curses under her breath, leaving Y/N standing alone with the wallet in her hands.

For a moment, Yn just stood there, numb. The bright sunshine felt too harsh, the crowd’s eyes too heavy. She looked down at the wallet and then out into the street, wondering why kindness so often felt like a burden.

One man in the crowd a middle-aged passerby shook his head sadly and muttered to his companion, “That poor girl. Just trying to do the right thing.”

A young woman nearby clenched her fists, clearly upset by the scene. “Some people just don’t deserve kindness,” she said softly, tears in her own eyes.

Y/N heard their whispers but felt distant from them, like she was underwater. The sting of the woman’s words echoed louder than any voice around her.

As she walked slowly away, the wallet still clutched in her hand, Y/N’s mind replayed every moment, every harsh word, every glance.

She remembered how much she had always believed that a small act of kindness could change someone’s day, even their life. But now she wondered if some hearts were too closed, too bruised to ever see the light she wanted to share.

Yet, beneath the ache, a quiet resolve began to bloom.

She would keep being kind.

She would keep trying.

Because maybe one day, someone else would need her and she hoped someone would be there for her, too.

With one last glance at the wallet, Y/N took a deep breath, wiped her tears away, and stepped forward into the afternoon sun.

The morning light seeped softly through the curtains as Yn sat curled up on the couch, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sweater. The memory of the old woman’s harsh words lingered like a storm cloud above her heart. She had only tried to help only tried to do what felt right yet all she’d gotten was anger and humiliation. Her cheeks still stung from the cruel insults, and her spirit felt bruised.

Woozi’s footsteps echoed softly through the apartment, and before she could say anything, he was kneeling beside her, his warm hand covering hers like a silent promise that she wasn’t alone. His eyes searched hers, calm and steady.

“Talk to me,” he said quietly, voice gentle but insistent.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat, then exhaled slowly. “I just… I wanted to help. She dropped her wallet, and I tried to pick it up and give it back to her. But she looked at me like I was a thief. She yelled, insulted me… said things I never thought someone would say.”

Woozi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a soothing hug.

“Sometimes,” he murmured, “people lash out not because of who you are, but because of their own fears and pain. That doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

Yn closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “But what if I’m just… too kind for this world? What if my kindness just invites trouble?”

He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Your kindness is your strength, even when it feels like a burden. And I’m here, always, to keep you safe from the trouble that comes your way.”

She leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the unspoken promise in his presence. “I don’t want to stop being kind, even if it hurts sometimes.”

“You won’t have to,” he said, voice full of conviction. “Because I’ll be by your side your protector, your partner. No matter what storms come, we’ll face them together.”

For a long moment, silence wrapped around them, comforting and warm. Y/N let the tears fall freely now, the weight in her chest easing just a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead, soft and tender. “Always.”

Later that afternoon, the sunlight poured through the kitchen window as Woozi stood behind Y/N, his arms wrapped gently around her waist. She was focused on chopping vegetables for dinner, humming a soft tune, but his presence made her smile without looking.

“You know,” Woozi whispered, brushing his lips against her temple, “you’re probably the only person I know who gets into trouble just by being nice.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at him with sparkling eyes. “Well, trouble seems to follow me like a shadow.”

He tightened his hold, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck. “Maybe that’s because the world doesn’t deserve someone as kind as you.”

“Or maybe I’m just too much of a softie,” she teased, pretending to be annoyed.

“Softie or not, I’m lucky to have you,” Woozi murmured, his voice thick with affection. “Let’s make tonight a promise no trouble, just us.”

Y/N nodded, leaning back into him. “Deal.”

They cooked together in perfect harmony her chopping and his stirring, occasional laughter bubbling up as they playfully bumped into each other. The kitchen filled with warmth and the scent of home.

Later, seated at the table, their hands found each other’s across the surface. In that quiet moment, no harsh words or accusations could reach them. There was only love steady, comforting, and true.

The next morning, the gentle hum of the city seeped through the slightly cracked window as sunlight draped the room in a soft glow. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a worn-out book while Woozi brewed their morning tea in the kitchen. The faint clink of the teapot on the stove was a comforting background to their quiet start.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Woozi said as he brought over two steaming cups, settling beside her.

Y/N glanced up, her eyes shimmering with a mix of amusement and something tender. “Just thinking. You know, after everything that happened yesterday…I’m glad you’re here.”

Woozi smiled softly, his hand finding hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not while I’m around.”

Yn squeezed his hand, feeling that familiar warmth wash over her. “You’re always so protective.”

“I’m just being honest. You’re too precious to me.”

Her cheeks flushed as she shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t say it enough, but thank you for sticking by me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

Later that day, they decided to take a stroll in the park, wanting nothing more than simple moments away from the crowded chaos of everyday life. Y/N’s hand nestled perfectly in Woozi’s as they walked beneath towering trees, the leaves rustling softly with the breeze.

“Remember when you first told me you liked me?” Y/N asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Woozi chuckled quietly. “I was such a nervous mess. Could barely look at you.”

“Yeah, I remember. You kept hiding behind your notebook.”

He laughed at the memory, eyes sparkling. “Well, I still get a little shy around you.”

Y/N stopped walking and tugged him gently until he faced her. “You don’t have to be shy. I like you just the way you are.”

His smile deepened, and before she could blink, Woozi’s hands cupped her face. “I love you.”

Her heart skipped. “I love you too.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in the world they had built a world where kindness could exist alongside imperfections, where love was patient and steadfast.

One evening, while cooking dinner, Y/N accidentally knocked over a jar of spices, the pungent scent filling the kitchen. Frustrated, she sighed and started cleaning it up, but Woozi wasn’t having any of it.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, setting down the cutting board and coming over to wrap his arms around her waist from behind. “It’s just a little spill.”

Yn leaned back into him, letting out a shaky laugh. “I’m just so clumsy sometimes.”

“Not clumsy,” he said, turning her gently to face him. “Perfectly human. And perfectly mine.”

She smiled, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. “You make me feel like I’m enough.”

“That’s because you are.”

Days like these were the quiet anchors in their lives small moments stitched together to remind them both of what really mattered. The world could throw all the trouble and misunderstandings it wanted, but here, in each other’s arms, they found peace.

The room was dim, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Yn lay curled up under the blanket, her mind swirling with worry and exhaustion from the day’s events. Woozi watched her quietly, his heart aching to see her so tired yet still pushing herself nonstop.

He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Y/N,” he whispered softly, his voice a balm in the stillness.

She blinked up at him, eyes heavy but attentive.

“Please,” he said, his hand brushing over her cheek with the lightest touch. “Put yourself first…Please?”

Yn opened her mouth to protest, but Woozi silenced her with a tender kiss slow and sweet, a promise more than just words. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until their bodies fit perfectly together.

“You don’t always have to carry the world,” he murmured against her hair. “Let me carry you for a while.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered with tears she refused to shed. She nodded, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Goodnight, my love,” Woozi whispered.

Goodnight,” she breathed, feeling safe and cherished, ready to let go if only for a moment.

And with that, they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s warmth, the quiet hum of their love filling the night.

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khaoala · 2 days ago

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Well the post talked about First basically seeing a future with Khaotung but I would like to point out that K wants it too. Do you remember when Khaotung liked a picture on Twitter which was basically a drawing of two boys, eerily similar looking to FK, one was tall and lanky and the other was shorter and both of them were doing dishes in their home and it was such a domestic photo.

He liked that openly. K wants the same thing. It's just that he is lowkey and doesn't really say it out loud especially compared to First.

They both cannot be more married than this. I am literally kicking my feet here. 💗💗

this one right? and i think he liked it around the time of safe house, too? at least that's the impression i've got from the tweets at the time, so there were quite some footage of them together in the kitchen to use as reference. as a matter of fact, for the longest time, i did think the fanart was actually on them, but i think it's a k-pop one. regardless, it's so cute.

a relationship like that only works if it goes both ways, and we know they are each others' most trusted person. like they've said multiple times, they are each others' best supporter and safe space and also have said that they don't even like thinking of the possibility of being parted.

i love that we're back to the married fk agenda. i couldn't take another march-april fandom situation.

#bibs ask #Anonymous #firstkhao #firstkhaotung #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #fk lore

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sunsetsandsunshine · 8 months ago

Text

~ 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟹-𝟺: 𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚄𝙿/𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟻𝟷𝟼

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 🏒💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛’s: 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚎 ⛸️💜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 🥅💚

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕…𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝…𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝…𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!! 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜! 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚐 𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙷

𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙽𝚃: 𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝟸??? 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔— 𝙸 𝚍𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚘. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝— 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Grace…please. Me and Riley have heard enough of your playlist. Just admit mine is better so we can carry on with our sleepover festivites.” Bree sighed, resting her head on Riley’s shoulder.

“Just one more song! Then I’ll be done.” Grace smiled as she pressed play on Shuffle as she went to her Spotify app, “Whatever song it is…I’m 101% sure you guys will lohooooove it.”

The song played for a bit, the music bouncing around the room as Riley and Bree slowly started to realize what they were allowing themselves to listen to…

“…I-Is this…Peaches from the Mario movie…?” The blue eyed teen snickered, laughing louder as Bree just sadly facepalmed.

The glasses wielding teenager got up from where she was sitting, standing up and basically snatching away Grace’s phone from her palms.

“Okahay, yeahhhhhh…no. I’m turning this off.” The purple cladded girl mused as she did just that, giving the electronic back to the green pajama wearing girl. “So, based on popular vote…which was just me, myself and I…I declare myself the winner of Deciding Who’s Spotify Playlist is the MOST Banger! Or DWSPITMB for short.”

“How come you get to decide what playlist is quote on quote 'the best?!' I think mine is pretty suherb.” The smaller teenager huffed.

Bree adjusted her glasses, raising an unamused brow at her smaller friend as she sighed in disappointment. Riley, though, just chuckled in utter amusement, sitting on her bed criss-cross as she munched on some the leftover popcorn they made earlier in the night.

Bree loved proving people wrong…and Riley loved watching it allllll unfold.

“First off: it’s superb. And second, no it is not! Your playlist just consists of meme songs!” The chocolate eyed girl said matter-of-factly.

The green cladded teenager scoffed, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Goofy Goober…Smash Mouth All Stars…It’s Raining Tacos— shall I continue?”

Grace crossed her arms, glancing to the side of her as she wallowed in defeat.

In her defense…although the songs she liked were classified as 'meme songs'…they lowkey kind of ate down…

…Just a bit…

…Juuuuust a tad…?

“No…” The smallest of the three huffed.

“And you!” Bree said as she pointed at Riley, ignoring the small surprised squeak that came out of the blondie, “Your playlist is just straight up Disney songs!! If that doesn’t scream basic I don’t know what does…”

The blue cladded teenager swiflty got up and went towards her best friends which resulted into all of them looking like the formation of a small triangle, “Wooooah woah woah woah! Don’t drag me into this! Disney’s songs are peak and they will continue to stay peak!”

Grace grimaced, rubbing the back of her neck, “After Encanto…Disney kinda fell off I’m not gonna lie, Ri…” She grumbled under her breath. But her dismay, Riley heard it loud and clear..

Crystal clear, to be exact.

“A GIRL WHO HAS 'NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP' IN HER PLAYLIST SHOULD NOT BE TALKING!!!” The girl in blue screamed.

“IT’S GENUINELY A FUN SONG! YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS YOU DON’T HAVE MY MUSIC TASTE! AND AT LEAST MY PLAYLIST HAS A THEME…unlike someone I know…” The black haired teen snapped back, trying not to giggle at Bree’s loud and dramatic offended gasp.

“HEY HEY HEY!! DON’T YOU EEEEEVEN START!!” The girl in glasses yelled, “You wouldn’t know good music if it hit you right in the face!”

“Oho I do so know good music! But you have Laufey, Jack Stauber and Green Day all in the same. playlist!!!” The blue iris wielding teenager scoffed, putting a hand on her hip, “And besides, if your playlist is the 'superb' one, what have I been listening to this entire time on my playlist, huh?”

“Trash.” Bree said plainly and simply, the three best friends locking eye contact with one another for a moment or two before bursting into loud uncontrollable cackles.

The three teen’s laughed at their silliness, all sitting on Riley’s bed as they tried to calm down to the best to their abilities.

“Trash.” Grace exclaimed as she tried her best to match Bree’s voice before breaking character and snickering again, “PFFTHAH! Even the wahay yohou said ihat was juhust sohoho fucking peherfect.”

“Ihi dohon’t know whahat cahame ohohover me…i-ihit juhust happened!” The purple cladded teen snorted, pulling out her phone from out of her pocket, “Fohor the Archives?”

“For the Archives.” The tallest teen agreed, all of them getting close to one another to take a picture.

The brown eyed girl pressed the button to encapture the memory through a single photograph, looking down at it happily as she squinted, looking at it more attentively.

Bree screamed in shock, putting her phone face down on the bed as she pulled her hood up, engulfing her face inside of it as she layed on her back, “MY GLASSES! MY. FREAKING. GLASSES!!! THEY’RE UPSIDE DOWN!! WHY DIDN’T YOU TWO TELL ME?!” She cried in embarrassment.

Her two friend’s in question exchanged a look with each other, holding back more small snickers, “Ihi thought yohou were gohoing fohor aha look!” Grace grinned.

“I WASN’T!!!” The purple cladded one huffed, fixing her glasses so they weren’t upside down anymore, “You two are so damn fake…”

“Oho puh-leeeease.” The hazelnut eyed girl sweetly said, wrapping the other in a big bear hug, “You loooooove us.” She teased.

The blondie leaned on her bed-frame, hugging her knees together as she rested her chin on her knees, watching the other two bicker about absolutely nothing.

And suddenly…out of nowhere, Riley’s fond smile turned to…a small, sad one…

She didn’t know why.

She had no idea why.

But all of a sudden…she just felt…sad.

Not, like, depressed sad…

…But not subtle sad, either.

“…I’m gonna miss this…” The taller suddenly blurted out, not really carrying if the other two heard or not…

…But, of course…they heard loud and clear…

…Crystal, even.

“…Miss what, Ri?” The smallest of the three asked casually, giving the blue eyed teen her full attention as Bree looked at her as well.

The blonde rubbed her knuckles slightly, anxiously looking away and avoiding eye contact with the other two, “Just…hanging out with you guys, I guess. Just…being here, y'know? School starts in, like, a week and I really don’t think I’m ready…”

“Don’t remind me…” The girl with glasses whined dramatically, flopping on Grace’s chest as the hazelnut eyed teen happily and gladly held her in her arms tighter, squeezing her comfortingly as she took her hood off from her head, “It’s freaking crazy…I remember us cleaning out our Middle School lockers like it was yesterday…” The green cladded girl grinned with nostalgia.

“Pff…speaking of, you guys remember when I found a year old sandwhich in Ryan’s locker?! That shit was hilarious.” Riley said as the other two laughed.

“That shit was disgusting. I’ve never seen something so…so…hideous…” The girl in purple pajamas fake gagged, “…Well, besides you of course.” The chocolate eyed teen said as she gestured towards the hazelnut eyed teen.

“HEY!” Grace huffed, lightly flicking Bree’s forehead.

The tallest of the three of them let out a short laugh…but, it lasted longer than her usual, genuine laugh…

…This one seemed…forced.

Her laugh’s started to sound a bit choked as tears ran down her face. In alarm, both Bree and Grace went to her side’s immediately, making sure their friend was okay…

…Well, as 'okay' as a crying person could be at the moment.

“Sorry…sorry, gosh…I’m…I-I’m b-being so stupid…” The blondie sniffled, wiping her nose and face with her sleeve. “No…you aren’t.” The girl with glasses reassured as she rubbed the other’s back, “You’re just upset…and that’s okay.”

“But…B-But I’m not upset…”

“…You’re not?” The shortest one of them all asked carefully.

Riley sniffled once more, glaring at her knees, “I don’t…a-at least I don’t think I am. I’m just…scared, I guess.” She explained as more and more tears ran down her face like they were never-ending, “I…I liked Middle School…a lot. I met you guys a-and s-so many other p-people that changed m-my life for the b-better.” The baby blue eyed teen said softly, a wobbly smile stretching to her features.

“I-I was able to f-find myself and know who I-I wanna be!! A-And n-not to mention I-I was even a-able to d-do d-dodgeball on Gym days! Dodgeball!” The blonde exclaimed whilst sobbing.

Grace rested her head on Riley’s shoulder, holding her hand in her’s to stop the taller’s excessive hand rubbing, “Still saluting you for carrying our Dodgeball team...” The green loving teenager murmured.

“B-But now…it’s j-just Middle School a-all over again. A-And I-I’m gonna be the n-new k-kid…” The blue cladded kid sighed as she buried her head on her knees, “A-And I won’t have you guys…”

There was a long enough silence that lasted for a while; all that was heard was Riley’s quiet sobs (well— as quiet as one can get when crying) and Bree and Grace’s breathing patterns.

Grace crossed her arms, giggling, “Uhuh…who said that?”

“You two are gonna be at a different school—” The blonde tried to explain but was almost immediately cut off by her other best friend, “Still doesn’t mean we won’t be there. Phones exist, Ri-Tie. We have our group-chat! We can FaceTime on the weekends and meet up during holiday breaks!” The girl in glasses happily said.

“B-But…w-what if we don’t k-keep in t-t-touch? O-Or we g-get in a-a f-fight through text a-and we d-don’t talk to e-each other f-f-for months?!” The blue cladded teenager exclaimed in exasperation and desperation, holding her friend’s hand in her’s as she tried to calm herself down.

The brown eyed girl squeezed her friend’s hand comfortingly, her eyes softening, “…It seems like your less worried about school…and more worried about…'losing us…'”

Riley just quietly sniffled, looking away in embarrassment.

“Ri…you aren’t going to 'lose us'. We legit aren’t going anywhere.” Grace explained thoroughly.

“But…B-But what if y-you f-f-find someone…better?” The blue eyed girl probed.

“…Better?” Her two friend’s questioned.

“Like…me but…better.” The taller inquired.

“I can’t promise that we won’t…make friends at our new school…but I can promise there will be no person at that place that can replace you. Heck, no one on this Earth can replace you even if they tried. And you wanna know why?” Grace grinned as she squished other’s hand a bit harder.

Riley smiled slightly at the action, squeezing back, “Pff…why?”

“Because you’re Riley freaking Anderson! AWOOGA!!!” The green and purple cladded girl’s both shouted, causing the other to laugh her tears away as she wiped her eyes, “G-Guys…that was so. damn. cringy. PLEASE never do that again…”

“Alas, it is what we do best.” The hazelnut eyed girl said as she dramatically lied down on the bed, “And speaking of which…I think you need some cheering up Ri-Pie…you still look down in the dumps.” And with that, Grace got up and pinned Riley’s wrists to the bed with one hand as the other wiggled teasingly.

The blondie audibly gulped, a small, nervous smile spreading to her features as she blushed slightly.

The brunette giggled at the sight, putting her hand’s around her mouth to make her own voice seem like it was coming out of a megaphone, “Houston! Houston, we haaaaave a problem! It seems like Ri-Ri needs some tickle tickle tickles~!”

“SHUHUT. UHUP—”

“And it seems like she’s insulting me, ladies and gentlefolks…! How unfortunate…” The girl in glasses hummed as she sat where the taller’s head was, using her arms and pinning them up so Grace could tickle her freely, “And to think we could’ve gone easy on you…”

The girl beneath squeaked loudly, hiding her face in her arms, “Guhuhuys w-wahahait! Stahop!!”

“But we haven’t even done anything!” Grace said innocently as she dug her fingers into the blue eyed teenager’s hips, “See? Not doing anything.”

“BAHAH— hic! NO!” The tallest one of the three squeaked, tugging on her arms but because of her purple cladded friend’s hands…she wasn’t able to go anywhere.

“BREEHEE! LEHET hic l-leHET GOhoh ahahand squeak— GRAHAHACE!! STAHAHOP!!” The blondie said as she kicked her feet wildly on the mattress, “STAHAP IT NOHOHOW!!”

The teen in purple rolled her eyes fondly, “I mean we cooooould…but you need to tell us what to stop doing.”

“YOHOU. KNOHOW!” The tallest of the three shouted.

“Hmmmmm…do I~?”

“Y-YEHEHES!!”

“I dunno~! I don’t think I do~!”

“YEHES. YOU. DO!”

“I don’t, actually…” The brunette inquired, letting go of the other’s arms and digging her hands into her underarms whilst kneading her ribs.

Talk about double kill!

The blue iris eyed kid arched her back momentarily, hugging her middles as she belly laughed loudly, “GYAHAH— hic! NOHOH! NOT THERE! NONONOHOH— squeal! PLAHAHEASE!!”

“You’re a huge walking tickle spot, huh, Rile?” Grace snorted as she scribbled the blonde’s sides. “SHUHUHUT YOHOHOUR MOHOUTH!!!”

“Nah…we’re good.” The two tickler’s said sassily, giggling with each other as they said the exact same thing at the exact same time.

Great mind think alike!

“GEHET. OFF!” Cried the blonde, happy tears springing up in her eyes, her irises shooting out of their sockets as Grace unpredictably blew a raspberry on her stomach.

A warning would have been nice…

“NAHAHAHAH!! GRAH— hic! GRAHAHACE!?”

“Yeeeeees?” The charcoal haired teen said innocently as Bree started to tickle Riley’s neck mercilessly.

“OKAHAHAY!! OKAHAY!” The baby blue eyed teen screamed, “AHALRIHIHIGHT AHAHALRIHIGHT! IHI SURRENDER!!!”

“But we didn’t even get to your favorite spoooooot~!” The black haired teenager smirked, poking the blondie’s foot. “AHAHUGH!! NOHO! I-IHI hic DOHOHON’T HAHAVE hic hic OHONE!!!”

“Oh yeah…that’s right…you have four.” The hazelnut eyed kid taunted lightly, blowing more raspberries on Riley’s stomach as she squeezed her sides. “GRAHAHACE— hic hic NOHO PLEHEHEASE—” The taller squealed, happy tears rolling down her face as the purple cladded one of the three wiggled her fingers over the blondie’s ribs and neck.

“GUHUHUYS— SQUEAK!! IHI’M GOHOHONNA DIE!!!”

“Then. perish.” Bree said simply, tickling Riley’s neck and ribs as the tallest of the group went absolutely mad with laughter. “As I said, no one can replace you, Ri…seriously…I don’t think I met anyone who’s laughed this loud…” The girl in glasses giggled.

“Agreed…we’ll keep in touch, go to resturants and it’ll be perfectly perfect…ish. It won’t be the same like last year but we’ll just learn to adjust—“

“IHIHI GEHET IHAT!!!” Riley screamed, her cackles dying down as her best friend’s lied down next to her; Grace on her left whilst Bree was on her right.

“Promise?” Grace asked once more.

“Prohohomise…” The blonde snorted, wiping her eyes as she playfully glared at her best friends, “Don’t think for a second you guys are off the hook…sleep with one eye open…”

“Will do.” Bree yawned, stretching as she quietly went to sleep, Grace soon following as her eyes closed and drifted to slumber.

Riley smiled fondly at her friend’s…

…Her best friends…

Riley might not go to the same school as them anymore…but that didn’t matter.

The distance that was going to be between her and them would be…strong.

But their love and appreciation for one another was stronger…

And no damn distance would change that…

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

#Inside Out tickle #Inside Out 2 tickle #Inside Out tickle fic #Inside Out 2 tickle fic #Inside Out tickle fanfiction #Inside Out 2 tickle fanfiction #Lee!Riley #Ler!Bree #Ler!Grace #AWOOGA‼️‼️‼️#This movie was so damn cute omffgfgfggffggfg #Loved it more than the first one 💗💗💗💗#AND TH PIANO THEMME IHGHGHHFHHF #😭🙏🏾#Sobbing and tearing WALLS #Can you tell this is based on my friend group⁉️⁉️⁉️ AHAHHAH #We’re gonna know each other for 5 years when it turns 2025…#Freaking crazy dawg…#WhErEd aLL tHe tIiIIiIiIiiME gOoOoOoO 😣😣😣😖😖😖😖😫😫😫😩😩😩😩???????#I’m not expecting for this fic to do well at ALL but it help me get some stress out 🤩#ALSO YES I’M AWARE I’M ONE DAY LATE HUSH #IT’S A MIXTURE OF TWO DAYS 👁️👄👁️#UGHDGSAAHQJKQK #Like srsly their friendgroup is just a spitting image of me and my bffs….#Make Riley a brunette and drop Bree’s glasses and then that’s us #Tickletober #Tickletober 2024

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fireinmoonshot · 8 days ago

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control | robert reynolds x fem!reader

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Fem!Reader Summary: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand. Warnings: Mentions of fighting, concussions and injuries. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: This is one of the other fic ideas from the poll that I posted the other day! I really loved writing this one, it was so much fun so I hope that you'll all enjoy it as well. Thank you for all the love on my Bob fics so far. I'm loving writing for him! 💗

“You need to tell Bob that he doesn’t have to worry about me,” you tell Yelena from where you’re standing, one of Bucky’s arms wrapped around you to help you stay upright due to the pounding in your head and the pain in your ankle. “He’s going to panic when I don’t come back with you guys.”

They’re the first things you say to Yelena when the team decides that it’s important to take you to a hospital so you can get looked at. You’ve all sustained injuries before, but being hit in the head as hard as you had been made everyone concerned, and the fact that everything is spinning a bit definitely isn’t a good sign.

No one is surprised that your first thought isn’t about yourself, but about the man waiting for you back at the Watch Tower. They’re not oblivious to whatever it is that’s been going on between the two of you, but none of them have found the need to know specifics.

“We will,” Yelena assures you before urging Bucky to get going.

He’d been very insistent on accompanying you to the hospital as soon as they’d discovered the extent of your injury.

Yelena is full of nerves by the time they get back to the Watch Tower. The elevator journey to the penthouse, where Bob is waiting for you all to get back, is the longest minute of her life. There is no way that Bob is going to react well to this news, and part of their job involves keeping Bob and his powers in control, which is much easier to do when he’s calm and not worried about someone he cares for.

The second that Bob hears the elevator ding, he stands up from where he’d been sitting with his book and starts to jog towards it, a small smile on his lips. Everyone going on missions without him always makes him miss them more. You, especially.

“How did it go?” He asks, the second he sees Yelena exit the elevator.

His eyes scan over the rest of them – Walker, Ava and Alexei. You’re missing, and Bucky is missing as well. His heart drops into his stomach and he clenches one of his fists at his side, trying to control his emotions.

“Where is she?”

Yelena is quick to jump to action. She’s by Bob’s side in a second, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and help ground him. “She’s okay. Bucky took her to hospital to get looked at by a doctor but it’s nothing serious. She told me to tell you not to worry.”

He almost laughs at that. The fact that you’d told Yelena to tell him not to worry when of course he was going to worry about you, even if you’d told him not to. He spends half of his time worrying about you, especially when you go out on missions. This is the first time that you haven’t come home. The first time you’ve been injured more than just a couple of scrapes and bruises.

It’s the first time that Bob isn’t going to be the one patching you up afterwards.

“What happened?” Bob asks, eyes flickering up to Yelena’s.

She tightens her grip on his shoulder a little. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“No,” he shakes his head and pulls away from her grip, starting to pace back and forth. He can’t help it even though he knows it’s only going to make him feel worse. “No, I need you to tell me what happened. Everything.”

Walker, Ava and Alexei stand just inside the door of the room, watching him with furrowed eyebrows and worried expressions. You’d warned them that Bob was going to panic, but they hadn’t realised it’d be quite this serious.

“I don’t think you need to know specifics,” Walker suggests, taking a few steps further into the room. “Just trust us that she’s okay, all right, Bobby?”

Their concern is further elevated when Bob doesn’t even bother to respond to Walker. He continues his pacing back and forth, occasionally mumbling under his breath so quietly that they can’t hear what he’s saying.

If he’d been there, Bob thinks, maybe he could’ve prevented this. He should be going on missions by this point, even though he can’t really control his powers completely, he’s sure he could be of some use. He should’ve been there. It’s his fault, really, that you even got hurt in the first place. If he’d been there as The Sentry, he could’ve stopped all of this from happening and you’d be right beside him, unharmed. But you’re not. You’re in a hospital somewhere, probably alone in a clean, white room waiting for someone to check you over. You could be bleeding, maybe badly. There could be broken bones, or something internal that they can’t see until it’s too late. It could be any number of things, all of which could’ve been avoided by him being able to control his powers.

Yelena flinches as the lights in the penthouse start to flicker. She looks over at the others who all have the same expressions on their face. Bob is losing control. He continues pacing and the room starts to shake a little. She can hear the glasses in the cabinets clinking together. The coffee table vibrates on the floor and the windows start to creak a little.

“Bob’s doing this…” Ava says, taking a step towards him. “We need to stop him.”

“He’s going to cause some real damage if we don’t,” Walker agrees.

Yelena is quick to respond. “I’ll take him to see her. It’s the only thing that’ll work.”

“What the hell are you thinking? He could get even worse once he’s outside!”

“We have no other options!” Yelena shouts back.

She wastes no more time in walking over to Bob and stopping right in front of him where he’s standing. She’s a little surprised when Bob actually stops pacing and looks up, meeting her eyes. But then she sees the glowing in them and her concern grows.

“I’ll take you to the hospital to see her,” Yelena tries. “We can leave right now.”

The glowing in Bob’s eyes dims and then slowly disappears. She lets out a breath of relief, knowing that he’s back in control of himself now. The lights have stopped flickering and the room has stopped shaking.

“You will?” Bob asks, voice soft.

“I will,” Yelena confirms. She extends a hand for him to hold. “Right now.”

He’s reaching for Yelena’s hand when there’s another ding of the elevator and his head snaps towards it. Everyone else in the room follows his gaze as the doors of the elevator open and you and Bucky are revealed.

None of them have ever seen Bob run as fast as he does to get to you.

One second, he’s standing in front of Yelena and the next, he’s at your side, cradling your head in his hands and tilting it from side to side to examine the bandage that’s been wrapped around it and make sure you’re not injured too badly.

Bucky looks around at everyone. “What are you all doing?”

“She was right,” Ava says, motioning to you. “Bob panicked when she didn’t come back.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Walker confirms. “But your timing couldn’t have been any better.”

Neither you or Bob are listening to the conversation going on around you. You’re too focused on the feeling of Bob’s hands on your face and the look of relief on his face to focus on much else. He looks a little startled, too. His eyes are a little bit too wide and his breathing a little too heavy for someone who shouldn’t have been worrying about you.

“I’m all right, Bob, I promise,” you say, resting one of your hands on his wrist and dragging your thumb gently back and forth over his skin. “The doctors cleared me to go home. I have a mild concussion and a sprained ankle. I just need to rest.”

Bob shakes his head. “That’s not all right. A concussion is not all right.”

“It’s really okay,” you insist. “I promise I’ll tell you if I feel worse all of a sudden.”

“No,” Bob mutters, his gaze dropping from yours. “I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you. If I had been there, none of this would’ve happened to you and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I should be able to be The Sentry without the other guy by now… if I could, I would’ve been there to save you from all of this pain.” His hands fall away from your face and he takes a step away from you.

You frown, hating the way that he’s blaming himself for this happening when you were the only one at fault. You hadn’t been paying attention in the fight, too distracted by what everyone else was doing, and that had been the reason the man you’d been fighting had gotten the better of you and slammed you into the wall. Bob had nothing to do with it, not even you being distracted.

“Bob, that’s not true,” you sigh, taking a step towards him and taking his face in your hands to force him to look at you. “None of this is your fault. How many times have you patched me up before? This is not the first time I’ve been injured on a mission. You’ve been there for me every time to patch me up afterwards. You always save me from my pain.”

His eyes meet yours again and you almost crumble at the sadness in them. He’d really been that worried about you that he’d turned to blaming himself for it… telling Yelena to tell him not to worry was clearly never going to work.

“This time, it was too much pain for me to patch you up from, though,” he murmurs.

“No, it wasn’t. I still need time to heal. And you’ll be there for me while I do, won’t you?”

Bob nods. “I’m not leaving your side.”

You reach down and take his hands in yours, giving them a squeeze. “You don’t have to.”

He takes a long, deep breath and steps a little closer towards you before leaning down and resting his forehead on top of yours, careful to avoid the bandage that’s wrapped around it and careful not to apply too much pressure in case he hurts you. “When I can control my powers,” he begins, “I’m never letting you get hurt again.”

“That’s a big promise.”

“I’ll keep it,” Bob hums. He stands up for only a second to lean down and press his lips briefly to your forehead, just underneath where the bandage is placed. “I’m glad you came home.”

You smile at the kiss and give his hands another squeeze. “I always will, so long as I have you waiting for me when I do.”

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #robert reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x you #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts x you #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu

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cherriicou · 1 month ago

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oh my god please write an older bf!mingyu i love ur scoups one sm 💗 (did i mention to put creampie in? did i) 👁️👁️ thank u babes mwah

hehe ofc! glad u enjoyed it mwahaha

olderbf! mingyu x college student! reader (f)

a/n; pls don’t use tinder guys… // word count; 1.2K

content; age gap, size difference, overstimulation, consensual recording, sending nudes, creampie, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, spanking, car sex, public/semi-public sex, degradation, praise kink, riding, smut with the smallest amount of plot

OLDER BF!MINGYU who met you through a dating app his friend forced him to go on. he usually ignored all the young girls who sent him thirsty messages and had their bodies on display on their profile. but you were different. only cute selfies, cat pictures, and your interests were shown on your page, drawing him to get interested in you. so he messaged you first!

OLDER BF!MINGYU who noticed your like in art so he immediately suggested taking you to a museum as your first date <3 he was the sweetest man you’ve ever met. yes, he was way older than you but it made everything 10x better. he knew how to treat you well, he made you feel safe, and he even dropped so many compliments on you that day it made you squirm in your seat.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who noticed you staring at his arms every time he helped you pick up something or every time he extended his arm out to pay for your meal. his ego was boosted then, making sure to flex them every once in a while when he saw you looking. you looked so adorable, your pretty face blushing, thighs squeezing together while admiring him. he needed you.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who, at first, tries to be soft with you. you were so much smaller than him, he was almost scared he’d break you :< that was until you started playing little games. bending down when you decided to wear no panties under your dress or skirt, fingers grazing over his crotch while you had dinner. all while giving him a innocent look. oh, he was tired of playing nice with you.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who has you salivating all over your chin and tits. he’s fucking your face so roughly, your makeup is completely ruined and you have no thoughts whatsoever as he holds your face firmly with his hands. ‘fucking brat’, as he stared straight into your eyes, groaning from the tears that started to fall down. he was not afraid to show you that he was enjoying the way your mouth was taking him in so well.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who loves to overstimulate you. he knows you love it despite your whines, ‘g-gyu no more,’ as you try to push his head away from your sensitive pussy. but he just continues licking and sucking on the spot he knows drives you crazy. you don’t even realize it, but you start grinding on his mouth, feeling the smile form on his lips. ‘doesn’t seem like you want me to stop, baby.’ god, he could taste you all fucking day while having you squirm over him. lapping your juices for being such a good girl the other day while you took his cock in your mouth <3

OLDER BF!MINGYU who takes and picks you up from college; his expensive car catching the eyes of others as you happily walk to greet your boyfriend. glaring through his window to any of the young guys looking at you get into his car. oh, and his favorite thing is take your mind off the stressful day that just passed. panties shoved to the side as he plunges his fingers in and out of you while driving home. 'that's it, princess. use my fingers,' your moans and whimpers take over the entire car as you hold onto the arm that he is using to pleasure you in the passenger seat. his eyes directed towards you every once in a while to see the fucked out expression on your face. he doesn’t care if people can see the lewd scene from outside, as long as you’re taken care of!

OLDER BF!MINGYU who LOVES to fill you up. 'where you want it, baby?' sweat glistening on his forehead as he continuously rams into your sweet spot, orgasm right on edge. 'i-inside, please,' he already knows you want it in you, but he just loves hearing you say it while he's fucking you. his grip on your hips gets harder, making you squirm in both pain and pleasure. his thrusts get stronger as he finishes inside you, making sure all of it is released in your abused hole. 'fuck, look at that,' his breathless groans let out as he pulls his cock out of your sensitive cunt. he takes his phone from the bedside table, and you hear the sound of the record button as he spreads your ass out. both of your cum leaking out of your pussy so nicely. you think he's done until he uses his fingers to take as much fluid as he can to shove it right back inside your hole :3 'ah g-gyu..,' you let out. he smiles at your coos, landing a playful smack against your ass before pulling you up to kiss your lips.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who is annoyed at this stupid meeting his employees set up with him. he just nods away, eyes locked on the presentation, mind spinning faster than he could organize his thoughts. ding! he reached for his phone to find messages from you, as well as a video linked to it. 'miss you <3,' he smiles at the cute text, then opens the video to find himself growing hard and smiled swept away. it's a video of you, one hand holding the phone to show your naked body while the other hand is rubbing your clit. he turns down the volume completely before your moans can be heard in the basically quiet conference room. he's livid. you're at home, smiling at the 'seen' notification on your phone. it wasn't until time passed you started to worry, not a single message was sent back from him. you're screwed.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who has you bent over his lap, fingers messing with your pussy for what seems like hours. your ass was practically red and bruised from the amount of smacks it has taken. all while you plead, 'mm sorry gyu please,' he smiles. you think he is going to give into you fully, ready for him to put you in missionary or on all fours. but no. instead, he lays down with a cocky look on his face at your confused, needy expression. 'come sit on it, doll,' he can't be serious. he puts his hands behind his head, eyes never leaving you as your legs tremble. trying to put as much energy as you can to climb on top of him and fully sit on his cock. the pleasured look on your face almost makes him fold, he wanted to take care of you himself but you needed to learn. learn that needy girls don’t get awarded.

OLDER BF!MINGYU who almost feels bad for you. you're struggling so much to grind on dick :< the burn your thighs are feeling is insane, and he is just staring you down. 'g-gyu,' you whine while fighting for your life to continue riding him. 'hm? gonna cum, already?,' you nod, hands placed on his chest to try to help your body stabilize. your eyes meet his again and you give him the biggest pout, gasping as he finally thrusts into you once roughly, 'gonna make a mess on my cock like some needy slut?,' his hands grab onto your hips. he's being so mean but you know you'll love it later.

OLDER BF! MINGYU who thinks you've been punished enough and plants his feet flat on the bed, then immediately starts to fuck up into you. the tip of his meanly thick cock repeatedly slamming into your cervix. his hands frantically touching you all over your body, from your tits to your neck, to even putting his thumb into your mouth as you struggle to take what he's giving you. 'mm my sweet girl,' you salivate around his fingers as you feel yourself about to cum. you should take more pics often..

#svt #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen smut #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu svt #svt smut #svt headcanons #smut #kpop smut #kpop bg

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hueseok · 8 months ago

Text

it was always you.

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

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

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

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

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

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

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

“Any questions?”

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

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

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

More than half of the class raises their hands.

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

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

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

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

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

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

You wince.

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

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

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

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“An apology?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can make space for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

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

“Okay.”

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

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

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

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

“I don’t like her.”

“You’re in love with her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

“Yes.”

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

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

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

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

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Precisely.”

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

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

You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

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

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hell no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s no need, Kook.”

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

So, you allow him.

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

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

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

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

“Agreed.”

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

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

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

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

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

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

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

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

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

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

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

“Misunderstand what?”

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

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

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

“You should be.” You grumble.

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

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

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

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

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

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

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

You blushed.

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

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

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

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

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

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

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

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

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

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

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

You cackled. “Deal.”

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

****

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

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

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

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

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

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

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

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

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

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

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

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

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hang up and glance at the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

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

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

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

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

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

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

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

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

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

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

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

“Let me do it,” he says.

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

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

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

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

“____—”

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

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

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

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

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

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

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

“Four months, I think.”

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

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

“You must really like him then.”

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

“Does he treat you well?”

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

“What’s with it?”

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

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

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

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

“But I’m not your brother.”

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

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

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

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

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

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

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

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

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

“Jungkook—”

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

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

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

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

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

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

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

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

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

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

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

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

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

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

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

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

“Why didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

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

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

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

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

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

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

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

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

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

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

****

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

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

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

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

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

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

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

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

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

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

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

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

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

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

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

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

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

“We’re not—”

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

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

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

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

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

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: look how cute we look 🥹

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

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

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