#extra extra hot chilly

[a-little-bit-rascal]

@canirove I NEED a cap of Ben in the pre match jacket. NEED.

My ovaries are loose and I’ve no clue where they’ve gone, but they lost their shit at him in that jacket 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣

[just-rogi]

Diagram of me rn (eleven blankets btw if u even care..six pillows too)

[blckasf]

If you order sweet potatoes fries over regular fries I will instantly fall in love with u

[arina24]

Winters with Winter

Aespa Winter x M Reader

3.6k words

Tags: SMUT, some fluff, blowjob, missionary, virgin

There was a nip in the air. Winter's arrival was faster than expected. You realized this was going to be yet another winter you were going to spend being a little more lonely than you wished. It wasn't all too bad. Winters weren't completely horrible. The opportunity to snuggle with a hot cup of coffee or chocolate was comforting. You just wished you were snuggling with someone, that's all.

It was yet another chilly morning as you made your way to work. That particular morning, winter had carried with her some generous showers, and fortunately you didn't forget your umbrella that day. In fact, you had two. You forgot an umbrella the previous day and bought an extra one from the store, and now you just travel with 2 umbrellas, because why not.

As you got off from the metro train, you fidgeted with the tight button, trying to open it, before a young woman catches your eye. She was maybe a couple years younger than you, it was hard to tell her age with how strikingly cute she was. She was in a simple blue tee, with a hoodie for protection from the cold. Blonde hair flowing down her neck, and bouncing off the shoulders of her petite body.

She was extremely beautiful and all, but the reason she caught your eye was because she seemed to be extremely nervous, biting her nails as she kept looking outside at the pouring rain, as if she could wish it away to go from 100 to 0 in 2 seconds. You didn't know what it was for, but she clearly needed to be out there. Something made you walk up to her. "Hey, need an umbrella?" You asked. She looked up to you, freeing her nails from her mouth.

"Umm, Yeah! Yes I do! OMG I've got an interview and I was so stupid to forget my umbrella." She paused for a moment, seeming to get over the initial excitement of getting hope. "Wait, if you give me yours, what will you do?" She looked even cuter close up, her hair almost magical and making her look like some sort of angel.

"It's alright, I've got another one. Yesterday I forgot mine and bought an extra." You replied, for some reason wanting her to take it and almost pushing the umbrella in her hands.

"Thank you, I wish I could thank you more but it's already really late for the interview. How do I return this to you?" She put her hands in her handbag. "Maybe I can pay you something..."

"No no, just go do well in your interview. Don't worry about all this."

"Thank you again, I hope you get all the good things in life." She replied before rushing away into the rain with your umbrella in the air.

The small interaction made you feel better. You lost an umbrella. You might never see her again. But it made you feel good. In fact as fate would have it, you would see her again. But not the umbrella.

A few nights later, as you were going home in the metro, couple of fingers tap your shoulder. You look back to see the same girl, in a pretty pink dress this time, surrounded by a thick hoodie. The dress only came down to her thighs, and you were wondering how she went out in this chilling winter with exposed legs.

"Hello, umbrella man. Do you remember me?"

"Wha- Umbrella ma-? Miss I've got a name."

"I bet you do, but you haven't told me it."

"Y/N" You offer your hand, covered in gloves. Unsurprisingly, her legs weren't the only unexposed skin, and her bare palm meets your gloves.

"Winter."

"Yeah, it's cold. That's why I've got them on."

"No, my name's Winter." She replied, giggling, making the cutest noise.

"Huh? Cute name. No wonder you seem to be handling it so well."

"Yes I was born with the powers to handle winter, which my parents sensed so excellently." She joked, giggling again. "Oh wait your umbrella, let me return it." She shoved her hands in her hand bag, searching for a solid 2 minutes before she looks up at you with a dejected face. "Sorry... I forgot it again."

"That's alright, I didn't hope to retrieve it anyway. How did your interview go though?"

"It went great, I was offered the job. The least I can do is return it for you. Which station do you get off on?"

"Antarse Street"

"Oh that's my stop too. My house is a 3 minute walk from there. If you come with me, I can return your umbrella." She replied, excited at the possibility.

You weren't sure if you wanted to go. It was late in the evening and you didn't really want your umbrella back, it was an old one which you would have thrown away in a while anyway. You hesitate to reply.

"I'll even make you some coffee. Though I can't attest to how good it is. No one else has had my coffee." She continues, hoping to win you over with coffee.

The thought of being the first other person to have Winter's coffee was enough to convince you. You continue talking with her till the stop comes. She yaps a lot. You listen. She likes that. She talks about how she’s been so desperate for a job, until she finally found one at the interview after your chance meeting. She had just graduated college and was more or less alone in the city, which made you a bit sad, but also made you feel she was in a way, like you.

She's clumsy, but endearing. Her hair was tied up today. The hoodie covering up most of her dress. You wonder how she'd look in just her pink dress and her hair flowing free again. She would look like spring flowers, you thought. Winter.... an ironic name for her. You step off the station with her, and start walking with her. She begins blowing into her hands as the chill gets a bit more intense, late in the night.

"You alright?" You ask, a bit concerned. She was clearly not a very forward thinking girl.

"Yeah... maybe I shouldn't have forgotten my gloves as well." She replies meekly.

"You can have mine if you want. I'm not very cold."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah your hands seem to be freezing."

"Alright.. maybe you deserve a bit more than just coffee." She said with a smirk.

You weren't sure what that meant, but you removed your gloves, tapped it off a couple of times to get rid of any dirt and offered it to her. She put it on and smiled. It felt intimate. It was your gloves around her hands and not your hands. But it felt just as intimate as holding her hands. The look in her eyes said she felt the same.

Her apartment was more than a few blocks away, more than the 3 minute walk she promised. But it felt nice to be walking in this weather with her. It’s been a while since you’ve walked alone with a girl like this, even though the cold made her less talkative. Soon, the two of you reach her building. The apartment building wasn't anything to speak of, and her house less so. Things were a mess, even the living room.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah, it's a 1 bedroom, recently moved here for the job. Sorry for the mess... I just forget things." That much was clear to you already. She continued sheepishly, "You see, I wasn't expecting visitors."

"Yeah? Bet it would have been spic and span if you did." You reply, mocking her.

She stares at you, pretending to be offended, and hits your shoulder. "Meanie. Now wait here as I go make your coffee." She says, shoving some clothes off a seat in the couch to create space for you. You sit there awkwardly and look around the rest of the room.

There’s a table and few chairs, but not where they’re supposed to be. Table in one corner, and chairs in the opposite corner, also filled with clothes. The table has a strewn collection of random items, among them a picture of what looks like a younger Winter with her parents. She’s posing cutely for the camera near a Mickey Mouse cutout, with her parents standing behind the cutout.

“Do I look cute in that pic?” Her voice calls out, catching you surprised.

“What- I mean yeah, yeah, baby you is a cutie. These are your parents?”

“Yeah.. they passed away in an accident last year. I’ve had this photo on my table ever since.” She replies in a silent tone. “Oh I’m so sorry Winter..”, you reply. It made you wonder how she really was doing, she mentioned she didn’t really have any friends in the city, and with her parents not being here either.... must have been rough. She really didn’t show it if she did, always having a cheerful and playful tone, except for this one instance. You wondered how well you were hiding yours.

“Enough being sad, you came here for coffee so let’s have it.” She breaks the silence, and presents two cups with generous amounts of coffee. Actually, you came here for your umbrella, but you decide not to remind her of that fact and just accept her coffee. “So moment of truth, let’s find out if my coffee is actually good or I’ve just been gaslighting myself for the past 2 years.” Both of you take a sip of her coffee.

“Well... it’s certainly coffee.” You reply, then immediately wondering if you should have just lied. “Huh? I didn’t expect that.” She says, a bit dejected, but continues, “Well, you’re gonna have to make do with it.” The two of you finish drinking down the rest of your cups.

“Let me remove my hoodie, it’s already hot enough in here.” She says and takes off her hoodie in front of you, and frees up her hair, now in just her pink dress and flowing hair like you were imagining earlier. She looks more angelic than you were expecting somehow, even with minimal makeup after what seemed like a long day at her work. You couldn’t help but stare a bit too long.

“What are you looking at? Want me to get you one of these dresses? I think you would look good in this too.” She teases you, as you break away from staring and reply to her. “Why not just give me this one? I gave you my gloves and umbrella after all.” She moves closer to you. “How about I give you something else in return?” She says, in a low whispering, almost erotic tone.

“Hmm, like what?”

She leans in even closer, and her lips catch yours in an expected kiss. You are taken aback, as she pulls away. “Wait... was it not okay? I’m so sorry...” she stumbles, before you reply to her by kissing her back, erasing all suspicions from her mind. The kiss is innocent initially, but quickly turns lewder. Your tongue entering her mouth as her lips part, your tongue playing with hers in a lewd dance, as you taste all of her.

She tastes like sweet honey, and makes you let out a soft moan as you throw an arm around her neck and pull her in even closer to you. Her hand begins at your chin, and travels down your chest, slowly caressing you, before finally resting on your bulge, which was quickly growing harder and harder for her. Your other arm travels down her back, then catching her cute ass, which you squeeze softly, making her moan.

Pulling away from the kiss, you ask her, “You like that baby?”

“Yes I do.” She replies in a very soft, submissive tone, which turns you on even more.

“If you’re gonna give me the dress, we’re gonna have to take you out of it."

“That seems logical.” She replies and begins to fidget with her zipper, before you help her and get it all off her and throw it on the chair, adding to the already big pile of clothes. She’s in a soft pink bra, matching her dress, and black panties. You bring one hand down to her panties, and can see that it’s already dripping in her wetness.

With your other hand you tease her boobs over her bra, before unhooking her bra and throwing it off into the unknown. You circle your fingers around her nipple, and then bring your mouth near it. You start softly sucking on her nipples, as the slightest touch seems to stimulate her a lot, making her moan loudly and suppress various curses.

“Let’s head for your bedroom~ Look like we’ll defenitely be needing one tonight, and not just for sleeping.” That makes her giggle, and she grabs your hand and pulls you towards her bedroom. Entering, you lock the door, and the room is somehow even more of a mess than her living room.

You just push away the clothes, then softly push her on the bed. She tugs at your shirt, indicating she wants you out of clothes too. With her help, soon you’re out of your shirt and pants, with your cock almost wanting to burst out of your boxers already with how hard it is. She rubs her hand over your boxers, teasing your cock.

“My my~ You’re so hard already.”

“All because of you, baby.”

“Yeah baby? Why don’t you show me exactly how turned on I’ve gotten you.” Even the way she said baby in a sing-song voice made you feel like it was laced with honey, or maybe it was poison, but it seemed to make you addicted to it either way.

She continued rubbing your cock over your boxers, almost wishing it would come out like magic if she did. You fulfill her wishes and pull down your boxers swiftly, as your cock pops for her.

“It looks very pretty.” She says.

“Since when do cocks look pretty?” You laugh.

“Since today.” She says and wraps her fingers around your cock slenderly, and begins softly stroking you up and down. It was clear she didn’t have much experience with this, as she seemed to be doubting herself while doing so. “You’re doing well baby, you can hold it tighter if you want~” You encourage her. That instantly makes her more confident and her face brightens up.

She responds so cutely to praise, you think. She starts stroking faster and holding you tighter. She spits on her hands, and gently rubs it all over your cock, making sure not to miss a single spot. Her hands just glide over your cock now, making you feel even better as you begin moaning for her softly.

She brings her mouth closer to your cock and starts licking you with her tongue, going up all the way from your balls to your tip, spreading her saliva all over your cock. You place a hand on her head, caressing her hair, which makes her release another cute moan, and she places her lips around your cock. Firstly sucking on your tip, before taking the entirety of your length inside her mouth.

It hits the back of her throat, making her gag a little, although she quickly recovers. She bobs her head up and down on your cock, her tongue swirling around it as you moan louder and louder. Every moan you release and every time you caress your head it makes her more confident, as she sucks on you faster and faster.

After sucking for a while, she releases her mouth from your cock and stops for a pause, catching her breath. “You’re tired already baby? The night is just starting.” You tease her. “Not a chance.” She replies before taking your cock back in her mouth, for another round of sucking.

Her spit now drips out from her mouth, dripping down to her chest, making a mess. Her face and your crotch are both wet with the same thing now. She takes a break for the second time, more out of breath now as she takes heavy breaths with saliva still stretching out from your cock to her mouth.

“That’s enough babe~ Let me return the favour now.” You say and push her down with her head on the pillow. Your fingers reach her panties, and now they have no semblance of ever being anything but a wet dripping mess of her juices. You slide those panties down, exposing her pussy which looks just as cute as her, glistening with wetness.

You slide one finger in, as her juices coat your fingers. You shove the finger in your mouth and taste her juices. “It tastes like sweet nectar.” You tell her. “Don’t you want more of that where that came from, baby” She teases you.

You do, so your mouth goes down to her panties, and you spread your tongue across her pussy. Licking all across, getting a taste of her juices directly, as it makes her moan. “Fuck.” You slide a finger in her pussy at the same time, and start fingering her pussy, your fingers slick with her juices.

You reach her clit with your tongue, and every lick on it stimulates her to the point that she’s screaming. “Fuck! You’re doing so good! Don’t stop... Please don’t stop...” You can feel the neediness in her voice. Her neediness to cum for your mouth. You insert one more finger, and you’re alternating between sucking and licking on her clit, with two fingers sliding in and out of her pussy.

You could tell she was getting close with how she was twitching and basically grinding her pussy on your tongue faster than you could lick her. You don’t stop, listening to her desperate moans begging you to keep going.

You insert a third finger when you sense she’s about to cum. She begins squirting as she finishes, her liquids bursting out from her pussy and making a mess on your face, and wetting the sheets of her bed and the clothes around with her liquids. She holds on to your hair indicating you to keep going, and you do it till she’s made the entire bed wet with her juices.

“Fuck... you are so good at that...” She remarks, breathless. “Seems like you wanted to make an even bigger mess on my face than my cock did on yours.” You tease her. She just giggles before replying. “I hope we’re not done yet though.... I still need to feel your cock somewhere else.”

“Yeah? Where do you need to feel it?”

“You know where.. dont act silly” She says, blushing and looking down.

“Winter miss I think you’re well beyond the point of acting shy. Say it or you’re not getting it.”

“I need it in my pussy. I need it deep in my pussy. I wanna feel every inch of your cock in me.”

Hearing her say the thing you wanted to do most to her made you gather all your energy for perhaps the last round of the night. You get on top of her again. Lining up your cock with the pussy you just made squirt all over. She looks in your eye with lustful desire. Her eyes conveying all her deepest wants with nothing hiding it. Yet she somehow managed to look like the cutest girl in the universe. You weren’t sure how. You move your hips forward. She was so wet that your cock slipped right in.

Her pussy was tight, and she wraps her legs around you, not willing to let you go till you give her what she needs so badly. You comply, beginning to move your hips with a rhythm. She places one hand on your chest and pulls your body closer to her. She wants your body close to her. She wants your body ON her.

You catch her lips with yours as you continue thrusting. By this time both your faces and mouths are messes, but neither of you could care less, and the kiss is more intense than last time as you continue fucking her pussy.

She moans through the kiss, her moans escaping into your mouth and she gets loud for your cock in her. As you pull away from the kiss you can hear just how much moans she’s been suppressing. The sounds of your thighs clapping against hers was loud, but her moans easily blow over all of them.

“Fuck baby, your cock feels so fucking good.” All the honey in her baby is now gone. This one is driven by pure unadulterated lust.

You could listen to her moans for years. But you couldn’t keep going for years. All good things come to an end, and you could feel you were close to cumming. “I’m close Winter.” You let her know. “I want it IN ME. Please. Please.” She begs and wraps her legs tighter around you. Not willing to let go either way. You wanted to cum in her anyway.

She intertwines her fingers with yours and holds on to your palm tightly. “Cum in me baby. I want you.” She clenches her pussy around your cock tightly, which makes you release. Your load flows into her pussy filling her up, cumming more than you thought you could cum. As you move your hips back you can watch how much you came in her, with it now dripping out of her.

The two of you try to clean up (as much as you could after that tiring session) and cuddle into each other’s arms trying to fall asleep. You remember what she told you at the end of your first meeting. “I hope you get all the good things in life.” You think you already did.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Bf!Skz reaction to you randomly spanking them

pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings: none i think? (lmk)

a/n: just a little something while i decide what to write next bcs i have too many ideas🥲

~ check out: Masterlist

Chan:

You're at your boyfriend's studio, and as much as you admire his process of writing and producing songs, you're becoming bored.

It looks like he completely forgot about your presence as he works away while you sit on the couch, playing with your phone.

You huff but Chan doesn't even budge and at this point you're sure he's teasing you on purpose.

He stands up and leans over the table to grab something and you take that as your chance. You quickly stand up and slap his butt as hard as you can, hurting your hand in the process and making him jolt forwards as he grabs at the end of the table.

Chan turns around to look at you, a mix of surprise and slyness on his face, his cheeks dusted in pink.

"I sure hope you know what you just started, love."

Lee Know:

You and your boyfriend are in the kitchen, cooking dinner together. It feels like both of you have fallen into a trance, working together like you were a well oiled machine.

Some light music plays in the background as you cut some vegetables while Minho prepares the meat.

He turns his back to you slightly as he grabs some spices and you look up from your task, your eyes falling to his ass.

You smirk and lift your hand up before smacking his ass and watching it jiggle. The way he turned around slowly like a cat, his eyes judgy and a sly smirk on his lips.

"What are you doing kitten?"- he asks.

"Learning from the best."- you shrug nonchalantly.

"Hold that thought until after dinner."

Changbin:

It's a chilly autumn Friday night, but you're not cold at all.

In fact, you're sweating because your boyfriend suggested for the two of you to spend the evening in the gym.

You protested at first, but he was adamant on blending two of his favorite activities together in his rare free time; spending time with you and working out.

You slowly get into it and the physical exertion, the heat in your body plus your sexy boyfriend looking extra delicious while he works on his muscles bring a different kind of warmness between your legs.

Changbin moves around before bending over to pick up the bottle of water he left on the side and you can't help it, your hand flying on its own and smacking his ass so hard that you think your hand might fall off.

"Yah!"- he yells out, clearly startled as he grabs at his ass. "What's that for?"

"You're so hot, Binnie. I couldn't resist."- you bat your eyelashes innocently at him as he narrows his eyes and smirks.

His face is flushed from the work out but you swear it looks even more red now.

"Yeah? Wanna go home and show me how much you can't resist me?"

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin and you decided to avoid the summer heat by going to the pool.

Sadly, the sea was too far away and you didn't have much free time to actually make a trip there, so the pool had to suffice.

Both of you didn't mind though, you were happy to splash around and play in the water together, enjoy your time like you had no worries on your mind.

You stayed in the pool for a fairly long time and Hyunjin swam towards the steps first. You followed him and watched as he stood up and walked out of the water, his body on display for you, his muscles tense as droplets of water slid down his spine.

His cute little perky ass got your attention and you hurried up as he turned and waited for you.

"Let's get changed."- you ushered him to the showers and he chuckled at your sudden eagerness to leave.

As soon as you were as far away from other people as you could be, your hand collided with his ass, echoing in the empty hall.

Hyunjin yelped, doubling down dramatically and almost falling to his knees.

Even your hand burned because of the impact on his wet swim trunks.

"Why would you hurt me like that?!"- he whined, grabbing at the wall and making a show of it.

"You've taken worse."- you smirk at his antics and he chuckled, his cheeks red.

"Don't talk about that in public."- he smacked your arm lightly and you laughed.

"Well let's find a more private place where we can talk."

Jisung:

The two of you are walking home from a movie date, your hands swinging together as you discuss the film you just watched.

The evening is quiet and peaceful and you can't wait to come home, shower and get under the covers with your sweet boyfriend.

Jisung takes his phone out of his pocket to show you something but since he never wants to let go of your hand, the phone clatters as it hits the floor.

"Shit!"- he exclaims, letting go of your hand and bending down to pick up the device.

Your eyes fall on his cute ass instantly, looking extra cute in his tight black jeans. You smirk as you land a hard smack against his flesh, making him shriek and almost fall over.

"Damn. Do that again."

Felix:

It's your first time sleeping over at Felix's place and since both of you love baking, you decided to try out a new recipe.

The problem was, you needed to run to the store to get some ingredients.

"I'm sorry, I should've prepared these beforehand."- Felix pouts cutely at you and you chuckle.

"Bubs, it's okay, I don't mind taking a little walk to the store. It'll be like a little adventure."- you smile and he chuckles, his cheeks dusted pink.

"Alright, that sounds way more fun now."- he nods.

The two of you make a short 10 minute trip to the nearest store. As you walk through the aisles, in the bright fluorescent light you notice just how tight your boyfriend's pants are, his ass and thighs prominent in them.

He even dares to bend down to pick up an ingredient from a lower shelf.

Your mouth waters at the sight and without thinking you smack his ass, ending it with a nice handful of his flesh as he squeals and lifts up quickly.

"Hey!"- he whips around so fast, his face morphed into a look of surprise before it becomes a little smirk, his eyes glinting at you.

You giggle at him as he points his finger at you.

"Just you wait 'til we come back home, honey."

Seungmin:

You're backstage with your boyfriend before his next show.

He's been looking extra delicious lately, his arms on display and the leather pants hugging his figure perfectly.

He's getting ready for the performance and when he turns his back to you, your eyes rake all over him. You look around, noticing that everyone's going about their business so you decide why not just spank him once?

Just one tiny little smack, you think as you lift up your arm.

"What are you doing?"- Seungmin asks and you groan.

"How did you see me? You back is turned!"

"The shadow, silly. Are you trying to smack my ass?"- he turns to look at you with a smirk.

"No."- you say.

"No? It's okay, you can do it."- he turns his back to you again and just as you lift your hand up again, he slides away from you, snickering and running away.

"Hey get back here!"- you run after him as you both giggle.

"Catch me if you can!"- he screams back and both of you get too excited before the staff has to calm you down.

And ofcourse, you use that chance to smack him lightly.

"Happy now?"- he rolls his eyes playfully.

"Ofcourse."- you smirk.

"Mhm. I might just have to return the favor later."

Jeongin:

"Innie, I'm bored."- you huff, moving your arms and legs like you're making a snow angel on your boyfriend's bed.

"What?"- he looks up from his spot, his eyes were glued to his phone.

"I said I'm bored."- you pout.

"Didn't you tell me to be quiet so you can read your book?"- he smirks.

"I can't concentrate anymore. The letters are all becoming screwy."- you keep pouting at him.

"Alright, what can I do to make it better?"

"Entertain me?"- you try to look sweet and innocent and he laughs at your attempt.

"However shall I do that?"- he leans closer to you.

"Give me a fashion show!"

"A what now?"- Jeongin laughs again, caressing your side.

"You bought new outfits. I wanna see them."- you sit up.

"Fine, if you insist."- he rolls his eyes jokingly and gets up. You reach for him and smack his cute butt, making him jolt.

"I hope I'm getting paid well for this fashion show."- he jokes.

"Oh, you are, trust me."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

[aquasoftware]

FIVE STAR MEAL…★ ★ ★ ★ ★!!

Synopsis: Married to the world's most judgmental chef also meant you feared him going anywhere near your not-so-shaved pussy.

CW: Not proofread ngl 😬, Chef! Geto, c*nnilingus, fingering, spit, praise, hair pulling, thigh hickeys, kissing, dirty talk, degrading (once), squirting, tatted!Reader, insecure! Reader, established relationship, hotel setting, you have a hairy cooter in this! Lmk if I missed sum!!

FT: Drabble.

WC: 1k || Paring : Geto x F!Reader || M.L

When your husband is globally known for having a nasty attitude as a Michelin chef, of course, you were gut-wrenchingly nervous to let him eat you out.

Every "What if?" Always scurried across your scattered brain whenever Suguru pleaded to give you oral, which you brushed aside for another day until the two of you were on vacation for your 1-year anniversary, somewhat far away from the girls, while they were at your parent's house.

Praying he wouldn't treat you like he did to other chefs that he worked with, spitting out their dishes and telling them that gobbling their food was like eating shitty toxic waste, eventually you at last mustered up the courage to let him know what you really desired.

"You sure you're not gonna mind it being hairy, or.. what if I taste bad..?" You gulped, slightly grinding teeth as fidgety eyes bounced from side to side, spouting questions at Suguru left and right.

Oh? That's what this is about; this only made him abhorrently offended; you’d think he’d judge his sweet wife and her semi-unexplored jungle. You've let him finger you a couple of times, but each time was bare since being hairy made you profoundly self-conscious. Besides that, Suguru definitely snuck a taste on his fingers, although remembering it tasting like nothing, he still was prepared to eat your pussy as if it were an addictive drug.

"Trust me, baby, I'm going to take care of you real good; you're gonna wish you let me give you head sooner." Suguru smugly reassured, folding his arms as a devious grin marched in on his face.

And whew! He wasn't lying whatsoever, going slow at first, pressing tender sensual kisses at the dime-sized tattoos in between your thighs, while you rested on your elbows vigilant as to what he was doing exactly, breath hitching whenever Suguru's smooth lips trickled closer to your core.

Your husband began to harshly suck at the sensitive skin, creating dark marks on each thigh, causing you to quietly yelp, achieving a light snicker from out of him running his soft hands all over your body as he exhaled hot, steamy breath upon your aching pussy.

"Sugu..." Whining at the way his breath grazed your lower region, subtly asking for more, too impatient for anymore foreplay, soon satisfied enough, he finally licked a thin stripe across your clit, forcing your eyes to instantly shut.

His tongue lapped at your pussy as if it were nectar, eating it like he was on death row. Feeling his wet muscle slithering above your bundle of nerves in circles passionately sucking it every now and then; body uncontrollably writhing underneath Suguru’s face.

“Oh fffuck.. keep going, mhmm..” Your lips murmured words traveling straight to your husband’s ear, providing the extra motivation Suguru needed to devour that cunt whole.

He didn’t care the next person would call him disgusting for having lots of pube hair tickle his pale nose; either way, he was still going to swish his head side to side rapidly, enjoying the way your hands found solace in his raven tresses half near yanking it out of his skull developing pathetic whimpers against your throbbing pussy.

Sort of becoming embarrassed how even little vibrations from his moans led to your back arching, not at all bothered by the cruel chilly hotel air conditioning slapping close to your fiercely warm body way too in the moment of Suguru’s lewd sounds slurping down a five-star meal.

Hoping the two of you weren’t too loud during quiet hours in the lavish hotel, there was a huge attempt to keep your poor cries reduced, but you struggled, especially when Suguru covertly added fingers without warning.

Opening droopy eyes, you stared at the way this man had two fingers inserted inside, pushing them back and forth in a come here motion.“Haah haahh, shittt, u—use your fingers like that.” Mewling as loud as a siren, his slender fingers wriggling inward your mushy tightened walls felt like heaven, such in a daze that your brain persuaded you to believe that angels were singing to you.

You swore nobody could pull him away from your cunt, but he lifted his head up, panting as if he ran laps around the world. “Dirty girl, you like when I curl my fingers like this?” Suguru serenely spoke betwixt breaths, mildly biting his lip while his almond eyes traced your frame, in love with how the cream on his fingers oozed onto strands of hair from your lower lips.

Throwing your head back towards the mattress, unfortunately too engulfed in pleasure to even answer an inquiry like that right now, his fingers continuously targeted your g-spot, resulting in a deafening sing song squeal that echoed all around the spacey hotel room.

“Hmm, I think I’ve found your sweet spot, baby…” Your man cooed as freckled, sprawled-out goosebumps formed on your arms, the tone of his voice turning you on even more while he proceeded to plunge his fingertips at the notorious spongy spot, unable to help but slam your legs around his head.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt like hell, yet his drive to please his lady was stronger than the pain pounding as of now. “Aht, aht, aht, spread those pretty legs, love.” He sternly ordered, looking prideful when you immediately listened, snapping your legs back wide like a can opener.

“O-oh my godddd aaah S—suguru,” Your lips wailed out; his spit stabbing your pussy running down your plump labia, getting more and more sloppy. Suguru decided to chase after your clit once more, not knowing all these sensations attacking you at once sent you over the edge earlier than expected.

���I can’t ‘m gonna…” You slurred as Suguru’s concentrated palm rubbed against your entrance, driving your eyes to roll back, legs frantically shaking as if they’d been electrocuted. So much was going on at once; you knew he encouraged an orgasm, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying due to his fading out voice, entirely overwhelmed with arousal. The fiery pool in your stomach snapped, bucking up into his face not noticing juices bursted all over your husband.

Boosting Suguru’s confidence causing you to realize he most certainly wasn’t going to let up unless you squirted again on the white damp sheets.

9/1/24 12:46 pm

dividers by cafe kitsune + @/rookthornesartistry

may or may not be inspired by Gordon Ramsay ☹️ leave me alone okay…

[otaku-tactician]

tumblr is too spicy for me

gotta bounce

[jjkamochoso]

Imagine… Soshiro Hoshina Finding You on the Brink of Death

Angst, Hurt/No Comfort

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of injuries, ivs, death

Part two with fluff can be found here!

It looked to be the end of the line for you. Your Defense Force suit had long overheated, leaving you exhausted and vulnerable in your solo fight against the kaiju. The oversized monster saw how weak you were, becoming even more excited at the prospect of devouring yet another human. You kept shooting its snarling face in your desperation, round after round bouncing off its armored body since you wielded no extra power. The kaiju’s tail whipped around in a flash, hitting your slow moving body in the abdomen and making your gun fly from your grip. You were now splayed on the ground, unable to run and barely able to breathe. You didn’t want to give up but things were utterly hopeless. Your communications had been down the entire time of your 1 on 1 skirmish and your team had no idea where you were, you having been separated from them for far too long at that point. The kaiju strolled over to you, an aura of bloodlust surrounding it as it snatched you up in its jaw. You had no fight left in you—you just hoped your head would go first before all your bones were snapped.

“No more dinner for you tonight, you ugly shit.”

Was that… Soshiro? He came for you? You heard the faint unsheathing of swords as your eyes closed, ready to pass out. In its anger at being disrupted, the kaiju dropped you from its mouth and you tumbled onto the asphalt. The last thing you saw was a blur of violet hair and a whole lot of kaiju blood.

It was almost totally quiet when you came to again, save for the wheezing of your labored breaths. The sun was hanging high in the hazy sky and the weather was perfect--not too hot, not chilly at all. You wondered what Soshiro was up to. Was he still fighting the kaiju? You smiled at the thought. He was always so brave, the first one to jump into action. The relief you felt when he showed up to save you was insurmountable, though you probably weren't going to survive with your extensive injuries if you didn't see a doctor soon. What you wouldn't give to see his face again for the last time. No matter, the memories that you had together were more than enough for you. Maybe it was better this way. You couldn't imagine him setting eyes on your condition right now, you didn't want to burden him with your death. You prayed to whatever spiritual guide to let you pass before someone found your body; there was no way you'd let him lecture you about being more careful as you died.

"Vice Captain! They're still alive!"

You sighed as much as your broken body would allow. With Kafka around, your peaceful death plans would have to wait.

"Y/n, stay with us. Don't fall asleep, okay?"

His kind voice, though loud, was a welcome sound. Even still, your eyes were struggling to stay open as your head lolled around, but now your body was being maneuvered by someone whose touch had become a familiar comfort--

"Soshiro," you muttered, opening your eyes to find bright purple irises boring into your own. "Did you kill it?"

"Kill it? He obliterated that thing!" exclaimed Kafka, excitedly gesticulating. "He was all, swoosh with the swords and the honju was like, ahhh! Don't dice me up! But Vice Captain was like too bad, you should've thought of that before putting your hands on my y/n-"

"That's enough, Hibino."

"Yes, sir. I'll just, uh... stand over there."

Kafka ran off without another word, leaving you in the arms of the man you loved most.

"You’re my knight in shining kaiju armor," you choked out, trying to get a laugh from Soshiro, but he wasn't having any of it as he patched up your external injuries the best he could with his field first aid kit.

"I almost lost you, y/n. You almost died because I was too slow."

"Soshiro, that's not..." The blood you coughed up mixed with the blood on Soshiro's uniform.

"I know this might be selfish of me, but I can't let you die because I can't live without you. I don't want to live a life that doesn't have you in it. I would do anything for you." He placed a large bandage on a cut on your face, letting his fingertips rest there for longer than necessary before getting back to the task at hand. "I remember you said all those years ago you would do anything for me, too. Would you please hang in there and survive this? For me? For… us?”

He was right, you did say that. It was about a year after you both joined the Defense Force. You were both underdogs and no one seemed to believe in you and your abilities, except for each other. You had bonded over being underestimated and swore to each other that you’d never leave one another behind, in anything. He very obviously made good on that promise today.

You coughed up more blood and you could see the worry and pain in Soshiro’s gaze as he looked upon you, lying in his arms like a broken doll. He so gently wiped away the tears that were falling down your cheeks.

“It-everything hurts,” you whimpered.

“I know, I know it does. But we’re gonna get you the help you need, okay?”

You didn’t respond, causing Soshiro’s heart to plummet.

“Y/n. No, no, no, you gotta wake up. C’mon, this isn’t funny,” he pleaded, tapping your face, but getting no response.

“Shit! Hibino!” he yelled, trying his best to stay composed. “We need medic right now! Y/n won’t wake up!”

“Coming right now, Vice Captain!”

Sure enough, a doctor came rushing over, immediately placing down a stretcher. Soshiro loaded your unmoving body onto the hard plastic and he couldn’t help but think of how fragile you looked. Normally you were such a bright light in his life and a formidable ally not easily defeated, but right now, you looked one step from death’s door. He and Kafka dropped you off in an ambulance, ivs immediately being pumped into your veins. As those doors closed, Soshiro getting one last look of the love of his life, he prayed to whoever would listen that the door hadn’t closed on the opportunity to tell you how he truly felt.

PART TWO

[lancermylove]

Moments Ruined (Scenario)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland, Obey Me

Pairing: Leona, Malleus, Lucifer, Diavolo with gn!Reader

Warning: None

Prompt: Someone ruins your romantic moment.

———————————————

The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the courtyard of Savanaclaw in a warm, gentle light, creating the perfect romantic atmosphere. Leona pulled you onto his lap as he sat on one of the stone benches. Just as you leaned in for a kiss, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the courtyard.

Ruggie came barreling toward you both with a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Hey, Leona! You won't believe the deal I just scored at the market!"

Leona groaned, his brow furrowing in irritation. "Ruggie, can't ya see we're in the middle of somethin'?"

Ruggie blinked, clearly oblivious to the mood he had just shattered. "Oh, uh, sorry. But seriously, I got this huge bag of donuts for half the price! Ain't that somethin'?"

"Ruggie," Leona said, his voice dangerously low, "if ya don't leave right now, I'll make sure you won't enjoy those donuts."

You stifled a chuckle, amused at Leona's irritated face and the hyena's happiness. Ruggie's eyes widened, and he took a cautious step back. "Okay, okay, I'm goin'!" he yelped before darting away as fast as he had appeared.

After the hyena left, Leona sighed and turned back to you. "Where were we?" He whispered with a smirk on his lips.

Leaning in closer to him, you close the distance between your lips. "Here."

It was a peaceful evening in Diasomnia. The moon cast a gentle glow over the courtyard where Malleus and you shared a quiet moment. Fireflies danced in the air, the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the chilly air caressed your hot skin. The prince was being extra sweet and soft with you as your lips met in a tender kiss. However, the next moment, a scream pierced through the tranquil atmosphere.

"MY PRINCE! STAND BACK. I WILL SAVE YOU!"

Before you could register anything, Sebek charged toward the two of you, his expression a mixture of fierce determination and utter panic. He was patrolling the grounds, but unfortunately, his loyalty manifested at the worst time. Just as Sebek was about to tackle you to the ground, Malleus stood up, lifting you with him, and dodged the tackle.

"Sebek, what do you need?" Malleus's voice was calm, but there was a glint of irritation in his eyes.

"My Prince, I saw this person-" Sebek began, his voice filled with righteous fury as he pointed at you, "attempting to harm you!"

You blinked and chuckled slightly. "Sebek, I wasn't trying to harm him. We were just-"

"Silence, human!" Sebek roared before turning to Malleus, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright, my prince?"

"Sebek, you have misunderstood the situation," the dragon sighed heavily.

"But, my prince, I saw-"

"You saw us sharing a kiss," Malleus interrupted a hint of exasperation in his tone. "Not everything requires your intervention."

Hearing the word kiss short-circuited Sebek's brain to the point where he couldn't even yell at you for getting close to the prince. As he walked away, his head spinning, you laughed softly.

Lucifer and you were enjoying a rare, quiet evening in the library. The grand library was bathed in a serene glow from the dimmed chandeliers. While he read, you sat in his lap, snuggled up to him. The Avatar of Pride couldn't have been happier to feel your warmth against him as he held a book in one hand and stroked your hair with the other.

"It isn't often that we enjoy such peaceful moments," he whispered in a low, warm voice.

As you were about to reply, a loud crash echoed through the hallway. Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and his smile instantly vanished. The next moment, the library's door burst open, and Mammon stumbled in, closely followed by a furious Satan.

“You idiot! You lost it again, didn’t you?” Satan’s voice boomed through the large room.

Mammon held a broken vase in his right hand as he quickly hid behind one of the bookshelves. "I didn't lose it! It here...well...kinda." The second brother nervously laughed at the broken vase in his hand.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Must you two always choose the worst possible moments to engage in your nonsense?”

Satan ignored Lucifer and threw the broken pieces of the vase at his older brother's face. "You know how important it was to me! How could you be so careless?"

Mammon dodged the pieces and tried to escape but stumbled over a stack of books. "It ain't my fault! The vase was cursed or somethin'."

Lucifer sighed heavily as you stifled a laugh at the fight over a vase. He was not in the mood to deal with this and wanted peace, so he scooped you in his arms and walked out of the library to his bedroom.

"What about your brothers?" You asked, surprised by his actions. "Won't they bring the whole house down?"

"It seems as though I forgot to inform everyone that Barbatos is on his way to pay us a visit," Lucifer smirked, knowing that the butler could handle his brothers just as well as he could.

Diavolo and you were in one of the grand rooms in his palace. The gold chandeliers cast a warm glow while the scent of the rose bouquet on the table beside you caressed your nose. With a charming smile, Diavolo reached for your hand and enveloped it in his large one.

"I cannot express my happiness at being able to spend time with you," the prince whispered, his voice as sweet as honey.

"Me too, Diav. This is perfect, and nothing can ruin this moment," you replied with a light red tint on your cheeks.

He leaned closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. "I have held patience for this moment for far too long."

As your face inched closer to his, you felt his hot breath on your upper lip. The next second, the door to the room swung open with a loud bang. In walked Barbatos, his lips tugged into a deep frown. He held a large stack of papers in his hands as he glared at the prince.

"Young master!" The butler spoke in a scolding tone. "You have yet to complete your duties for the day. These documents require your immediate attention."

Your boyfriend's shoulder dropped as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Barbatos, can it not wait? For just a bit longer?"

"Absolutely not," he replied firmly and shifted his gaze to you. "(Y/n). You are distracting the young master from his duties. He cannot ignore them, even for a romantic interlude."

You stammered an apology while Diavolo continued to plead for a slight break. However, the butler refused to budge or show any sympathy. "A small break? Young master, you have indulged in 'small breaks' all day. The affairs of Devildom cannot be put on hold due to your whims. Now, return to your duties at once, or I shall have to drag you by your ear."

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

[a-little-bit-rascal]

Dear Gods of Mount Olympus, all other deities, the Football Association, Mr Eddie Keogh, the England media team and Getty Images,

Please, in the name of all that is holy and for the good of my mental health, can we have a photo of Ben Chilwell in the new England away kit?

Thank you in advance,

The undersigned

Me

[forlix]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[devildom-drabbles]

MC and the demon brothers are walking in town on a particularly chilly day. In the middle of a conversation, MC suddenly sneezes.

MC: *sniffs* Ugh, excuse me.

Mammon: *puts his jacket on MC* Geez, humans are so weak in cold weather.  I guess I’ll have to lend ya my jacket until we’re inside again.

MC: Oh, no, you don’t have to—

Beelzebub: *also puts his jacket on MC, overtop of Mammon’s* It’d be bad if you got sick, MC. Mammon’s jacket is small, so you can use mine, too.

MC: But—

Belphegor: *hands MC his pillow* Missing school and staying home to sleep wouldn’t be so bad, but I’d rather you not get sick either.  So, here, hold this close to you.  It should have some of my body heat since I’ve been carrying it this whole time.

MC: Um—

Lucifer: *puts his gloves on MC’s hands* You need to take care of yourself, MC.  The next several days will be cold like this, so make sure to wear more layers when you go out from now on.

Asmodeus: *wraps his scarf around MC’s neck* And some warm accessories!  When done right, they can really make your outfit extra stylish while still keeping you cozy.

MC: This is a bit—

Leviathan: *puts a Ruri-chan beanie he just bought on MC’s head* And you can feel more connected to your favorite 2D characters by wearing more merch with them on it!  Doesn’t it just fire up your heart?!

Satan: *puts a pair of fuzzy cat ear muffs on MC* Personally, I don’t care what you wear or how you look as long as you stay warm and healthy.  Still, you do look quite cute with these tiny cat ears, and now your head shouldn’t lose as much heat even when it’s windy.

MC: *face flushed from the added warmth and the actions of the doting demons* Thanks, guys. ...But now I’m too hot.

[partycatty]

Johnny cage and mayB some others being mind numbingly in love

Like they talk to reader and everytime just feel so stupid afterwards because theyre so in love and do stupid shit to impress

i love stupid men anon this works so well for me

johnny, raiden, kung lao, syzoth > stupid in love

warnings: big stupid hot sexy men (what else is new?), bojack horseman minor spoiler?? LMFOAMOF

+ bonus surprise character at the very end

masterlist

johnny >

• have you guys LMAO have you guys seen the. DLGHSDKJ the episode of bojack horseman where bojack gives diane the D in from the hollywood sign?? johnny is SO extra like that and for WHAT.

• OR YOU GUYS KNOW WHEN TODDLERS LIKE REALLY WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING AND THEY JUST KEEP SAYING "LOOKIT" LMFAFOIFMOA

• "reader, reader are you watching - reader, reader watch -" as he's like about to absolutely FUCK UP a nerds rope or some stupid shit

• okay i'll be fr. johnny is by far the most concerningly extra of the entire group. he will put himself in stupid danger just to impress you.

• "watch me take on all these guys at once!" he'll call out to you during your time at the academy, surrounded by a dozen monks. he's in a sling and bandages the next day.

• "kenshi, i bet you sento that i can jump from the roof like bi-han did!" BAM.

• he'd randomly give you expensive gifts out of absolutely nowhere. or he'd give his one of many glasses away to you because he "has no use for them" or they're "out of style" (he's lying, he just wants to see you wear something that's his).

• oh? you briefly mention you're a tad chilly during training? oh no, johnny's top fell off, i guess he has to give it to you now. you know, to stay warm. oh, you don't want his top? okay, here's a comically fluffy, expensive coat! and it just so happens to be your size...!

• lowkey i headcanon johnny as, despite being an actor, pretty blushy if someone matches his energy or really gets under his skin. you'll pass by him with a witty comment about his fighting style, or even just to tell him he cleaned up nice after getting his ass kicked by raiden. johnny just stands there with steam spitting from his red ears, hand on his chest as he fights a stupid grin.

• he is down ASTRONOMICALLY. not even the elder gods can stop this man from being so drunk in love when you're around. he makes it everyone's problem.

raiden >

• we see how flustered he gets when he's called out by kitana. he's a grown man with dick and balls but he's also flustered very easily! he'll be decently vocal about his affection for you, but then word trickles down to your ear, at which point it's so over for him.

• walks into walls when he's so entranced by you training. like face first into a wall, his hat fluttering to the ground. kung lao loses it.

• he can't even hear what you're saying when you speak to him, it sounds like an angel muffled by the clouds of heaven. raiden's also not the greatest with his powers granted by the amulet. if you go in to touch his arm playfully, a jolt of electricity pricks your palm and you yelp. raiden can only sputter apologies as he bows down, his cheeks tinted.

• he's the type to do little favors for you, ones you barely notice. your spot at the table is tidied, the training dummy is prepped for your fighting style, or he's the first one to bring you something if you forget it. that, and tiny favors to butter you up to him.

• "reader, you said you were nauseous last training. i prepared you some tea," he'd slide the small cup over to you, fighting a goofy smile. he rehearsed his script a few times, so he sounded more static than intended.

• will ask you questions about training or the weather just to hear your voice. he couldn't even recall what you were saying, he just loved the way your lips moved.

• kung lao pokes at him for this often, nudging him or making comments about you being his partner when you're not. raiden will stomp on his foot to keep him from talking about his infatuation if you're around. as if you don't already know.

kung lao >

• he's totally the bouncing on his heels type of man. he'll stare at you with a stupid grin, like a kid in a candy store.

• "was there something you needed, kung lao?" you'd ask as you tended to your own duties, organizing various equipment into baskets.

• "ah, no, not at all," he'd wave you off with a grin. "just enjoying... the view."

• you cringe at his words, chuckling to yourself as he speaks you in a daze. his mouth runs off before his brain can stop it from happening, so his biggest downfall with his crush is yapping. he'll sit there and explain his family history to you, or how much he hated farming cabbage, or his favorite meal at madam bo's just to keep you around long enough.

• kung lao always has this desire to keep you close by, so he continuously does stupid shit to keep you by his side. including but not limited to accidentally slicing his hands on his hat, one that he swore was a genius idea. in concept, probably.

• he wants to impress you so bad. SO BAD. anything he does is deserving of a bragging right if he's the one to do it. lao would totally try to shrug it off so you could gas him up more. any compliment, forced or not, was music to his ears.

• "yeah, i totally beat raiden," he'll check his nails nonchalantly as he leans against the wall, telling you the story of the cabbage competition for dinner against his best friend. "really swept him."

• "that's just not true," raiden would try to interject when he heard lao's version of the story. kung lao just holds eye contact with you, grinning, as he shoves raiden aside by his face.

syzoth >

• im sorry IM SORRY BUT I JUST LOVE THE HC THAT HIS TAIL WAGS I KNOW THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS JUST- JUST BEAR WITH ME.

• you hear thumping when you're around, though you're never able to find out where it's coming from, so you chalk it up to the monks landing blows against the wooden dummies.

• but the sound lingers when you're at dinner. the table is... rattling.

• you look up to see if anyone else notices or if you were hit too hard during training. but, you see everyone staring past you. just down the table, syzoth is sitting with a pile of bugs on his plate, his tail thumping in and out of view.

• "syzoth," kenshi will gently say, leaning into his ear to whisper something. syzoth flushes a green tint and tries to resume to his meal, the bugs scurrying out of his chopsticks as he struggles to keep it together.

• out of respect for his dignity, you hold your tongue at his obvious affection. syzoth tries to keep it under wraps but he can't help it when you're just so cute!

• he'll stand close by you, inching closer and closer until you notice. he'll slip you little trinkets and flora with a small smile. anything from a rock that matches the shades of your eye, to a flower he picked by the gardens, to a stick. a nice stick, to be fair! you wonder if this is zaterran courtship.

• "it reminded me of you," he'd lean into your ear. your bedside table is decorated with various... outside decor.

BONUS! kitana >

• kitana knew she couldn't get entangled with the umgadi after seeing how risky mileena is with tanya, but my god were you breathtaking.

• you would often accompany her in the carriages as she waved to her people, eyes transfixed on her. you're devoted to her protection. it is your god-given duty. your eye contact was too much at times, and kitana would often catch herself staring at you, her hand suspended in the air. she'd forget to wave.

• "is everything alright, my princess?" you would ask innocently, in a low tone to avoid raising suspicion. kitana's mind short circuits when you call her... yours. even if you're referring to the umgadi's worship. she shakes her head and clears her throat, pulling her mask up higher to conceal her blush.

• if she were to give speeches on her mother's behalf or otherwise, she'd find herself forgetting what the rehearsed, or hell, struggling to rehearse. you were the one she'd come to for help with speeches, yet you made things ten times harder when you'd lean in to listen to her better. it makes her mind absolutely numb.

• "and you tell me to steer away from the umgadi," mileena would rasp into her ear as the sister sat on their thrones, you positioned by her side and eyes forward. "it seems you picked a favorite, sister."

• "i'm not the only guilty one," she'd hiss back to her sister, nodding at tanya. "it won't get in the way of duties, as long as mother doesn't know."

• you'd fight to netherrealm and back for your princess. as you fight off intruders or threats, kitana forgets to escape, instead transfixed on the way your muscles would contract and flex with each blow.

• she wants to be the one to care for your wounds. the power imbalance means nothing to her, you're her equal.

[kitashousewife]

“m’gettin sick,” osamu sniffles from his cocoon on the couch. ever since he got home he’s been quiet and sleepy, cuddling up with a blanket despite being hot to the touch.

one thing you’ve learned about osamu, is that he is never sick. ma always joked about how despite every illness that passed through the twins’ schools, teams, or even work; osamu made it out perfectly healthy. you’ve found this to be true. even when you’ve been at your worst, osamu’s immune system has never faltered.

“i can’t be sick,” osamu’s mumbled voice is stuffier than normal, and his nose is a rosy pink. “i got work in the mornin’.”

“not like this, you don’t,” you pour some water from the kettle into his cup and dip the tea bag inside. he waves you off.

“what? just close shop for a day? i can’t do that,” he snatches a few kleenex from the box on the counter, turning around when you raise an eyebrow at him.

“you can actually, and you should.” you slide the tea over to him before heading towards your shared bathroom. “just post something tonight to give everyone a heads up.”

osamu shuffles behind you, tea in one large palm with tufts of kleenex in the other. he huffs when he feels hot once again, flinging off his sweat shirt as quick as he can.

“but kita-“

“kita can deliver to our house, baby. we can bring the rice over a different day.”

you fold your arms and stand by the bath as it fills. osamu copies you, leaning against the doorframe with a pout.

despite being sick as a dog, he won’t go down without a fight. out of principle, of course.

“what about the special i was gonna run?”

“you can do it next week,” you test the water with your palm before adding some epsom salt in.

“what will the regulars do when they head to the store?” osamu puts his palms up dramatically and snorts when you roll your eyes.

“im heading into town tomorrow, i can put a sign in the door. trust me ‘samu, i think they will appreciate you being closed. who wants to eat onigiri from someone with a runny nose?”

he doesn’t say anything. for a minute, you think he’s finally rested his case. after he slips in the bath and lets out a comfortable sigh, he decides to put one last ditch effort in.

“produce gets delivered tomorrow! i have to be there for that!” he’s comically large in the small tub the two of you share, knees folded up as he tries to sink in. you shake your head and he groans.

“fine, fine. okay. i’ll close tomorrow. ya happy?”

“thrilled,” you place a towel next to the tub and sit down. “you need to rest, samu. the shop will be there when you’re better, i promise.”

he pouts again, but this time it’s genuine.

“but i’m never sick,” he splashes water on accident when he leans his head back against the wall. “i take good care of myself! i take my vitamins, drink lots of water, get good sleep,”

your lips tug into a smile.

“and that will help you beat whatever you have even faster. but for now, let’s take it slow okay? get plenty of sleep, heal your body, and stay home.”

osamu nods, and let’s his eyes close. he soaks for a few minutes, relishing in the relief his achey joints feel for the first time all day. while he gets ready for bed, he can’t help but feel his heart swell as he watches you grab extra blankets for his side, knowing he will probably be chilly tonight.

“i’m probably gonna sore with all this shit in my nose,” he sinks under the covers, propping his head up on the extra pillows you set up for him.

“you snore anyway,”

“do not! ya liar,” he smacks your bum when you snuggle up next to him. “don’t touch me, i’ll get ya sick. i’m real contagious,”

you place a big kiss on his forehead before getting back to your original spot.

“i’ll take my chances,” you listed to osamu’s steady heart while he falls asleep. osamu is always taking care of you, grabbing your favorite things from the shop because he’s thinking of you. carrying you when your feet hurt from the heels he told you not to wear, bringing you glasses of water because he knows you aren’t drinking enough, and never asks for anything in return.

“i love ya,” osamu whispers, half asleep and hums when you squeeze him closer.

“i love you too, samu. sleep well.”

[muniimyg]

4: the cold // series m.list

note: reblogging w fic taglist cos the limit is annoying n my posts keep glitching </3 sorry for the long wait! i literally finished c2u and was working on c2u's extras as well as attempting to keep my life together LOL . this jk is literally GETTING INTO IT YUHHH . hope everyone is enjoying the story ,, i'm so excited for the rest ! we're halfway thru :( if u missed aao jk ,, lmk ur fave moment of his as of now huhuhuuuu

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

//

Picture this. 

Jungkook sent you a text, claiming to be sick. He said:

jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: no fr i get so dizzy standing up lol

jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: deadass i’m wearing like 7 layers and i’m chilly af .. need the warmth of ur arms, baby 🙏🏼

jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: do u think u can come by w some medicine? i’d owe u like… my whole heart

jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: nvm gave that to u already 😘✋🏽

Your natural response to his concerning text messages was to call him. When you called to check up on him, you noted how he coughed at every perfect pause... How his voice was toned groggy with a hint of pathetic. 

Just as pathetic as his lie. 

Does he think you're dumb? Fine. Two can play this game.

The second Jungkook opens the door and is greeted by his friends, grinning goofily with alcohol in their hands—he feels the urge to shut the door at their face. “Ah, for fucks sake—”

“Not so fast!” Hobi squeals as he grabs your wrists and tugs you from the back of the crowd to the front. Offering you to Jungkook, Hobi winks, “I believe this belongs to you.”

Jungkook’s eyes soften at the sight of you.

Lowering his head, he purses his lips for a kiss. You blink at him, letting him stand there like a fool. A few of his friends chuckle at the rejection, but it doesn’t dishearten Jungkook. Instead, he lifts his head and carries on. 

Hey, the kiss was worth a shot. 

With a patient tone, he tries to talk this out. “I thought it was just going to be you coming over...”

Shrugging at him, you answer; “And I thought you were sick.” 

"Well, what can I say? I always feel better whenever you're around." Jungkook chides.

Unimpressed, you tsk at him. “Nice try, buddy.”

Your hunch was right.

Jungkook wasn't sick.

There was no eye bag in sight, no cough to be heard, and with the short amount of time it took him to answer the door; he doesn't seem dizzy at all. If anything, he looks freshly showered and prepared.

For a sick man, his 5PM fit was rather suggestive. He's wearing jeans, and a white wife beater with an off-white button-up unbuttoned. He must know he's hot, right? He wore this on purpose.

"A little dressed up for someone who should be pretending to be sick..." you poke his chest.

Jungkook grins, instantly shrugging his button-up off. "Oh, my bad. Here, I'll undress and—"

"Jungkook!" you gasp as you tug his button-up back on. "Your friends are here! Don't be so shameless—"

"Whose fault is that?" he laughs. "___, was I not clear when I asked for you? You. Not the circus.”

“Hey!” Nam Joon cries from the crowd. “Are you calling me a clown?”

Jungkook lifts his head and shakes it. Smiling at his hero, he assures Nam Joon; “Not you, hyung. I love you.”

Earning a few laughs, the moment ends when Jin interrupts and pushes past you. Jungkook places his arm in front of your body, gently moving you against the wall. He shoots Jin a glare but Jin doesn't seem to catch on. He makes one final comment before inviting himself into Jungkook's home; “Stop sucking Joon's dick and let us in!”

As his friends cheer and begin to invade his home, you stand still and laugh at them hustling in. As they make random remarks, Jungkook warns them not to touch certain things in his living room and that his bedroom is off-limits. Walking in, his friends can't help but feel out of place when they spot the homecooked meal Jungkook prepared for you two. The table is all set up. The projector is ready to go in the living room corner, accompanied by the ever so comfy set up of pillows and fuzzy blankets on the couch… The fuzzy blanket on the couch that Taehyung and Hobi have now wrapped themselves in.

Yeah..

Jungkook did not see this coming. He groans at the very sight. His plans were ruined.

Once Jimin gets his little ass inside, you take that as your cue to head in. You duck under Jungkook's arm and just as you think you’re about to get away—he stops you. He takes a step back and swoops his other arm around your waist.

“Not so fast.”

You huff. “Okay. I’ll walk in slow motion—”

“___…” Jungkook says in a warning tone. “Yah, I said I was sick and you show up here with my friends?”

You poke his chest. “I had a feeling you were up to no good. I brought reinforcement.”

For the most part, Jungkook likes to think he has you figured out. Then, you pull shit like this and he is completely tongue-tied.

Jungkook can’t help but applaud your move. It’s petty and nonchalant… It’s well played. Yet, he feels bittersweet at the very realization that you’ve outsmarted him so early on. 

To be fair, his main moves are centered around lies. 

… Is it so wrong that he thought he could at least get one last good lie before facing the truth?

The truth is that he has grown to like you so much he has completely lost control of his words and thoughts. Every time he’s around you—that’s it. That’s the entire moment. That’s his entire world. He doesn’t know how to keep it that way, you know? He hasn’t figured out how to freeze time and just be with you. So, he lies. He lies in an attempt to make the moment last just a second longer. 

He knows he could have you with a simple conversation and his bunny smile. He knows he’s kindhearted and would be a great boyfriend if you let him… He’s just having a hard time navigating through all the feelings. They consume him faster and fiercer than he expected. The only way to keep up is to keep you near, and the only way to keep you near is to keep making excuses. 

Thus, this week’s excuse. 

He huffs at you. "A home-cooked meal, a movie on my projector, and comfy blankets... Means I'm up to no good? Come on, ___. This is ridiculous!"

"You've been so mischievous ever since—"

"It was just the ice skating thing!" Jungkook defends himself.

"It was also the pocky thing—"

His eyes light up. Jungkook’s lips curve into a smirk. "Ah... Thinking about our kiss, huh?"

Now you feel sick.

Was he serious? How does he do this to you? He says everything so bluntly and out of pocket, your tummy has no choice but to flip upside down and feel all the butterflies flutter.

"N-no!" you panic.

"Pucker up and prove me wrong," Jungkook insists, shutting his eyes and pursing his lips at you. "Like you said, I'm not sick. Kissing me won't get you sick—love sick, maybe..."

You cross your arms at him.

"Jungkook."

Opening his eyes one at a time, he puts his hands up and lets you go. He'll admit defeat here. Clearly, you aren't happy with his moves...

He'll try this.

He'll try honesty.

“___," he smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, I was trying to—”

“Flirt?” you finish his sentence. “Yeah, sure… Has it ever occurred to you that you can flirt with me without lying?”

His eyes widen. 

“Does it bother you that much?” He asks, feeling like he is completely messed up. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it was harmless—”

You shake your head, denying his accusation. It was deeper than that. It is the principal and the root of his lying being a habit in your relationship.

“It’s not that it bothers me that much… It's just... Y-you don't have to do all this, you know? I like getting to know you, but it feels like it's impossible. You keep setting up scenarios for yourself to look good in or for me to take care of you in. I'd do it regardless if you're hurt or not. You know that, right?"

"I do," Jungkook agrees. "I just..."

You look at him with sincere eyes. "Jungkook, I'm just not understanding... Why? It’s just weird to me that you were so confident and honest when you confessed. To be honest, I really admire that part of you. B-but now that you’re… That w-we’re…. Uhmm—it's different. You're acting differently. You can flirt with me all you want. It's whatever... But maybe try something else? I'm tired of you lying, Jungkook.”

He gulps.

"You want honesty?" Jungkook begins. "Here it is... I like you too much. Like, so much that I don't know what to do with myself whenever you're around—not to mention it's even worse when you're not. I want your attention. All the time. Everything about me for everything about you."

"Jungkook—"

"Can you wait for me?" He asks you unexpectedly. "Wait for me to get it right... Because I know I can. I will get it right."

When you two join everyone inside, Jungkook’s apartment is filled with so much chaos it’s difficult for him not to A) partake and B) be upset about everyone crashing his date night (by ambush). 

Honestly, Jungkook’s been pretty busy lately. He’s been neglecting his social life as school, work, and you (not that he’s complaining) have been taking over. In a way, he finds it sweet that you ruined his plans with yours. Especially since you came in with all his friends. It was a nice surprise. He will definitely take note of your sneaky ways too. 

By the time everyone gets hungry, there’s barely any space for anyone to eat. Some friends are sitting on the floor, eating off the coffee table or parts of the couch. Others are eating standing up, and the rest crowd over his tiny kitchen island and dining table. There are a few girls you’ve invited here and just as usual, you all went to the bathroom together. As you all enter back into the scene, there is absolutely no space. 

“___!” Jin calls you over. “Eat with us.”

You look at the girls and exchange laughs. They tease you before pushing to towards the dining table. As you approach, you realize there’s barely space let alone a seat. Without much thought, you gravitate towards Jungkook who is sitting and eating. Squeezing your way through, he notices you and nods towards Hobi. Hobi then responds by handing you a plate of food Jungkook set aside for you. Taking the plate, you thank Hobi. Jungkook then pushes his chair back and just as he’s about to get up from his seat to give to you—

“No, it’s okay. Sit.” You insist. 

“But you don’t have a seat—”

Then, it happens so naturally.

You place your plate on the table next to his and take a seat on his lap. When you do this, all the boys exchange looks but say nothing. Their eyes almost pop out of their head and Hobi even chokes on his food. He tries to hide it and turns away so you don’t think twice about it. They’re all aware of how shy you are and this? This was a big thing for Jungkook that they couldn’t ruin. You were finally coming out of your shell.

Thank god.

Meanwhile, Jungkook feels winded. 

He can’t believe this. 

He can’t believe you.

But given the circumstances… He might just have to. So, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he smiles at you warmly and tells you that he put all your favourites on your plate. He tells you to eat everything and that he ordered strawberry bingsoo for dessert. 

“I love strawberries!” you gasp. Looking up, you bat your eyelashes and tease him, “yah, you make it too obvious you have a crush on me… You know that?” 

Jungkook squints at you, followed by scrunching his nose. You lean against his forehead and mimic his little stare. 

It takes everything in him to not lean in and kiss you.

Slowly but surely, everyone leaves. The only ones left are you, Jungkook, and the other 6 clowns. Yoongi and Jin went out to start the cars while Joon, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hobi finished up taking the trash out or washing the dishes. 

You and Jungkook are tidying the living room. He thanks you for organizing the little get-together and apologizes again for lying to you about being sick. You tell him it wasn’t that serious—it was just built-up confusion and frustration. Further, you tell him that you don’t want him to see you as someone that he has to jump through hoops to spend time with. You tell him you want it too. You want to spend time with him too. You want to get to know him too. 

You want to fall in love—

"I can do that," Jungkook nods, understanding where you're coming from. Your thoughts are interrupted as he fluffs the final pillow and grabs your hands. He squeezes them and then lets go. "But only if you stop being so oblivious. At least try, you know? It's hard for me too. Like, we're dating and I'm trying to woo you and shit—"

Dating?

Woo you?

Shit.

Your heart skips a beat.

"Wait," you pause. "Jungkook, a-are we dating?”

Just when he opens his mouth to speak, Hobi interrupts. 

“___, let’s go! Jin wants to race Yoongi!” 

Jungkook blinks at Hobi. “You’re not racing when ___’s in the car. Are you mad?”

Hobi lifts his hands. “Shit man, I’m just the messenger!”

Without skipping a beat, Jungkook turns to you with stern eyes. “I’ll drive you home.”

You decline. “You’re already home. Relax, it’s Jin. He’s all talk and no bite.”

“___…”

As a compromise, you promise him; “I’ll ride in Yoongi’s car.”

He thinks about it for a moment. Then, he realizes he has no other practical choice. “Fine. At least if you guys do race, you’ll be in the winning car.”

Hobi coughs. “Yo, what the fuck? I’m riding in Jin’s.”

You laugh and tell Hobi you’ll meet them out the door in a second. Hobi leaves immediately, yelling at Jimin to trade spots with him so he can ride with Yoongi. Once he’s out the door, Jungkook’s apartment falls in silence. 

“.... I better get going,” you breathe. “I’ll see you around?”

Scanning his apartment, you smile at the sight of everything being tidy. Picking up your feet, you head towards the door. Like a sad puppy, Jungkook trails behind you.

As you head out, Jungkook feels an urge in his stomach to make this moment last longer. “Oh... S-sure. See you at the library tomorrow?”

“You hate the library.”

“No, I don’t—”

“It’s also Saturday tomorrow.”

Jungkook blinks at you. “I love spending my Saturdays in the library.”

Giggling at his awful attempt, you remind him, “hey, we just talked about you and your fibs—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jungkook surrenders. He puts his hands up and tilts his head. Pouting as you put your shoes on, he continues to ramble. “See what I mean? I say the wildest things just to be with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, plopping back up. Jungkook then helps you put your jacket on and gives you your tote bag. “Whatever you say, liar.”

He rolls his eyes at you. As you open the door, you face him with a silly face. He ruffles your hair as he bids his farewell, “Goodnight. Text me when you get home, baby.” 

Then, just like that, the door shuts and Jungkook is all alone.

As he turns away and finally feels like he can catch his breath after everything that happened between you two tonight, he hears the door knock. Turning back, he reaches for the doorknob, opens the door, and sees you standing there. 

“Did you forget something?”

“Goodnight kiss.”

He draws a blank. 

“What—”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as you tiptoe and reach for the nape of his neck and pull him close. Leaning in, you press your lips against him and kiss him softly. Without hesitating, he kisses you back and chases your lips the second you pull away. 

You pull away too fast for his liking.

“Okay, goodnight—”

He kisses you again, deepening it as much as he can. When you pull away to catch your breath, he sneaks in one last kiss. Then, he kisses your cheeks and turns you around. Before sending you off, he teases you one last time. 

“Go away. I hate you.”

Laughing at his words, you realize that sometimes—they aren’t so bad.

Him and his lies.

You and your reading in between lines.