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hueseok · 16 hours

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it was always you.

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

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

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

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

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

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

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

“Any questions?”

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

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

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

More than half of the class raises their hands.

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

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

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

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

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

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

You wince.

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

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

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

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“An apology?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can make space for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

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

“Okay.”

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

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

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

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

“I don’t like her.”

“You’re in love with her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?”

“Yes.”

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

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

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

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

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Precisely.”

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

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

You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

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

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hell no.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s no need, Kook.”

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

So, you allow him.

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

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

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

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

“Agreed.”

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

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

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

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

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

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

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

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

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

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

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

“Misunderstand what?”

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

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

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

“You should be.” You grumble.

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

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

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

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

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

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

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

You blushed.

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

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

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

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

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

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

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

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

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

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

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

You cackled. “Deal.”

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

****

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

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

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

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

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

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

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

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

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

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

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

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

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hang up and glance at the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

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

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

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

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

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

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

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

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

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

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

It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.

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

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

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

“____—”

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

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

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

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

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

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

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

“Four months, I think.”

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

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

“You must really like him then.”

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

“Does he treat you well?”

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

“What’s with it?”

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

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

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

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

“But I’m not your brother.”

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

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

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

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

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

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

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

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

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

“Jungkook—”

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

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

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

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

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

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

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

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

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

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

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

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

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

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

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

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

“Why didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

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

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

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

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

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

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

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

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

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

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

****

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

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

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

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

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

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

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

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

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

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

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

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

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

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

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

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

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

“We’re not—”

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

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

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

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

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

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: look how cute we look 🥹

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

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

thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #bts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts drabbles #jungkook drabbles #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #bts x you #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction

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moviestarmartini · 2 days

Text

yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader

él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.

summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?

wc: 975

warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.

A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The fight was stupid, really.

You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment.

After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday.

Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander.

If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off.

You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was.

For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears.

You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more.

To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing.

“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation.

That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder.

Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.

And you wondered if you would ever be again.

The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship.

Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory.

[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ]

[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ]

You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi.

“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied.

He hadn’t even read it.

Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home.

You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe.

“I’m sorry.”

Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies.

Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this.

Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you.

“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs.

“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly.

“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been.

“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly.

“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting.

“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug.

“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.”

Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.

A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip

#𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham angst #football x reader #football blurb #football fic

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sitepathos · 2 days

Text

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 1: The Change

“Happy birthday, to you,” your teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and classmates finish singing to you.

“Thank you, everyone,” you giggle, happy that everyone did something special for your birthday in the middle of class.

You’re now six-years-old and your Momma’s promised to take you to Little Luigi’s Pizza Place after school, where you’ll get to open your presents from her, as well as eat all the pizza you want and have a cookie pizza for free! You begged her to let you stay home, but she laughed and said that she had to meet her publisher for her upcoming book, but she promised that after she was done, she’d come check you out and the two of you would go celebrate your birthday.

You look up at the clock (good thing it’s digital, because you haven’t learned to read the old clocks yet!) and see that it’s almost time for lunch.

“Come on, Momma,” you mutter to yourself. “Get here, already.”

Seriously, you didn’t plan to eat lunch, so you didn’t bother packing lunch today!

Just then, the intercom above the door chimes.

“Mrs. Palmer,” the school secretary asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you please send Y/N Gould to the office, please? There’s someone here to see him.”

“Yes,” you cheer, making a few in the class laugh.

“Of course,” she responds before the device clicks off.

You grab your backpack and toss it over your back before rushing towards the door.

“Bye, Y/N,” one classmate says as you pass her.

“Happy birthday,” another says as you near the door.

“Enjoy your birthday, Y/N,” Mrs. Palmer says, her usual bright smile on her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Remember to have your worksheet done.”

And with that, you leave the room and skip down the hall to the main office, happy that your school is small so you don’t have to walk far. As you do, all you can think about is all the pizza you’re about to eat! And the chocolate chip cookie pizza that you get after that! And don’t forget about the presents! Maybe you’ll get the new Pokémon Platinum game for your DS, or a new stuffed animal, or maybe a new movie!

The suspense is practically tearing you apart and you enter the office, ready to greet your Momma when you see… Sheriff Foley. And he looks… sad. You look to the secretary, who’s standing behind him, and she has the same sad look.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Sheriff Foley,” you say, looking around to find Momma, but not finding her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Momma?”

“Son,” he says as the secretary begins to cry a bit. “I have some bad news.”

You feel a weird feeling in your stomach, like when you eat a bunch of ice cream and get sick, but this feeling is worse than that.

“What?”

“It’s about your momma. I got a call from the police in Vegas and they said there had been a car accident. Some drunk fool leaving a casino hit your mother’s car.”

You feel your heart stop at the words “hit” and “mother.”

“Is she ok,” you manage to say. “She’s at the hospital, right?”

The secretary’s crying becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, son,” he says, a tear falling from his eye. “He was going too fast when he hit her. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Like missing?” Now, you’re crying. “Why can’t they find her?”

“No, gone as in she’s no longer with us.”

“Like… she’s gone to heaven,” you whisper.

He nods and it’s then you feel your entire world collapse. You remember what Momma said about going to heaven when you saw a squirrel asleep on the side of the road. She’d said that he had gone to heaven after falling asleep and that he wouldn’t be waking up again. That he’d always be there.

“No,” you cry, tears and snot falling from your face. “No, she can’t be in heaven! She said she’d be here!”

Sheriff Foley takes you into his arms as you cry.

The next few days go by in a blur. You stay with Sheriff Foley and his wife until the funeral. Unfortunately, the accident was so bad that the casket had to stay closed, so you weren’t able to see her one last time before she’s put in her grave. The whole town of Goodsprings is there; she was an author writing best-selling romance novels set during the Age of Sail and a pillar of the community, so everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes to her and their condolences to you.

You said nothing during the whole thing. You hadn’t said anything since Sheriff Foley told you that Momma had gone to heaven and that she wouldn’t be back. The only noise to leave you is the sound of crying.

“Y/N,” he says as you watch the grave be filled with dirt. “When we leave, we’ll have to go by your house. You need to pack anything you need.”

“Why,” you ask, your voice sore from crying for days.

“Because a man is waiting there for you and when you have everything you need, he’ll take you to McCarran Airport. From there, you’ll go to Gotham City in New Jersey.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, first you lose Momma and now you’re losing your home?

“Why do I have to leave,” you say, tears streaming down your face.

“Because the county did some checking and found your father through a DNA test.”

You freeze at that. Your Daddy?

“Momma, do I have a Daddy,” you asked her once.

“You do, baby, but he doesn’t know about you,” she answered. “We met years ago, back when Momma was young and dumb. When I found out I was having you, I couldn’t find him. That’s when I realized I had to act right.” She rubbed her hand through your hair. “It’s thanks to you that I’m not like that anymore.”

That conversation goes through your head as you ride back to your house. You’re actually going to meet your Daddy? When you pull up to your house you see a fancy car sitting in the driveway and an elderly man in a suit standing next to it, watching you as you get out.

“I’m sorry, who’re you,” Sheriff Foley asks.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” the man says, bowing a little. “Butler to the Wayne Family. I apologize, Sheriff, but I’m afraid Master Bruce was unable to get away. Urgent business at Wayne Enterprises demanded his attention.”

“More urgent than his son?”

You can see the butler slightly flinch at that, despite how good he tries to hide it.

“I understand your frustration. I expressed the same sentiments, but Master Bruce couldn’t be persuaded to leave the matter to Mr. Fox.” He looks down at you. “I trust this is young Master Y/N?”

You can’t help but duck behind the sheriff’s legs to hide from him.

“Yeah, this is him.”

“I’m glad to meet you, though I wish it was under more joyous circumstances. You have my most sincere condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the ground.

“Come on, son, let’s get all your stuff packed.”

The three of you spend the next hour packing all your toys and clothes into cardboard boxes. When asked about your bed, dresser, and other larger things, Alfred said a room had already been prepared for you with a king sized bed and a dresser with room for all your clothes and more.

“Should you require anything else, I will ensure Master Bruce provides it.”

“What will happen to the house,” you finally ask Sheriff Foley, afraid for what he would say.

“Your momma already paid off her house and her will said that everything that’s hers goes to you. For now, the county will care for it until you turn eighteen, which is when you can inherit it.”

Hearing that should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t because you’d have to wait so long to come back and even then, Momma still wouldn’t be here. As the two adults packed up the last of the boxes in the fancy rental car, you slipped away into your Momma’s office at the back of the first story. You slide open the doors, expecting to see her at her desk, working on her latest story like you’d done so many times before, but this time, an empty room and silence greets you.

You enter her office and hop into the big revolving chair, her favorite perfume still lingering from the morning of your birthday. You look at the desk and find something that takes your breath away: her favorite gold ink pen. One day, you’d asked her why your last name was Gould and she’d told you that your family came from a long line of goldsmiths who once made jewelry and other small things for rich people. Momma’s Daddy still worked with metal, even after the family practice was shut down, and when she said she was going to become a writer, he made her a gold ink pen to bring her good luck. You pick it up, looking at the beautiful design, and begin to tear up.

She carried it everywhere she went, so seeing it here cements the fact that she’s not coming back. Maybe if she wasn’t in a big hurry that morning, she would’ve remembered to take it with her and the accident never would’ve happened. And she’d still be here with you.

“Y/N,” the Sheriff says as he enters the office. “We finished packing everything. Are you ready to go?”

You want to say no and refuse to leave, but you know that you can’t stay here. You quietly pocket the pen and follow him to the car, where Alfred waits for you.

“Alright, son, be good for Mr. Pennyworth here. Do what he says and be a good boy like your momma taught you.” He gives you a hug and you wish it would never end, because then you’d never have to leave your home. “You’ll be back before you know it, and your home will be here waiting for you.”

A with that, you get into the car with Mr. Pennyworth and begin the drive to the airport. You use the mirror to see your house one last time, seeing it get smaller and smaller until it’s out of sight.

“I know this is sudden after the loss of your mother, but I promise Master Bruce and I will do everything we can to make Wayne Manor a home for you.”

“What’s it like?”

“The manor? It’s a large estate with a long and storied history that dates back to the early days of Gotham. There’s plenty of rooms for you to explore.”

“And what about my Daddy? What’s he like?”

“Master Bruce is a skilled businessman and one of Gotham’s biggest socialites. He’s also the adoptive father of Masters Dick and Jason.”

“He already has kids? Would they be my brothers?”

You’d heard of several of your classmates having older and younger siblings and had thought about having a brother or a sister. What would it be like to carry around someone younger than you or be care for by someone older than you.

“Master Dick would be your older brother, but he’s now living at the manor right now. He’s off finding himself right now, but I have no doubt that he’ll be back one day.”

“What about Jason?”

Mr. Pennyworth frowns at your words and you feel afraid that you’ve said something wrong.

“Master Jason would be your older brother, as well, but he was taken from us. With any luck, he and your mother have met one another.”

Oh…

“When did he go to heaven?”

“He left us a few months ago, but it feels just like yesterday.”

And with that, the talk is over. You two arrive at the airport and after the butler returns the rental car, he guides you to the gate where a private jet awaits the two of you. You can’t help but be amazed that you’re riding in a private jet that looks so much better than the ones you’ve seen on tv. You sit in one of the seats and it’s way softer than your bed.

“Master Y/N, we’re getting ready for takeoff,” the butler says as he puts his seatbelt on. “Put your seatbelt on.”

You do as you’re told and before you know it, you feel the jet begin to move. You hurry to look out the window to see everything moving past before the jet begins to fly. You stare out the window, watching Nevada, the state you’ve called home, get smaller and smaller until you’re above the clouds, unable to see anything, even the massive buildings of the Strip, which could be seen for miles.

It’s then you realize that this is real, that you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known and won’t be back for years and tears begin to fall from your face. You’ve spent the last few days crying so much that you’d think that you’d think that you would run out of tears, but apparently not. Not wanting to disturb Mr. Pennyworth, you face the window and bite your lower lip to stop making noises.

Somehow the flight seemed to be both long lasting and not long enough, because eventually, you saw a city show up below you. You squint your eyes to get a better look through the smog and see many tall buildings, all of the having those scary stone creatures you saw on a movie once.

“Welcome to Gotham City, Master Y/N.”

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a series that sees somewhat regular updates, but don’t quote me on that. I’ve been getting back into Resident Evil and I look up Yandere Batfamily stuff on this site so much it’s not even funny. Sorry if the first chapter was so long, but I thought if the first chapter was long enough, people would forgive me if future chapters are a bit lacking. Also, this series is heavily influenced by several of my favorite users, like @acid-ixx , @gotham-daydreams , @luludeluluramblings , and @darkstaria . You should totally check them all out.

#yandere dc #yandere batfamily #dc x male reader #batfamily #yandere batfam #batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere cassandra cain #yandere stephanie brown #yandere alfred pennyworth #male reader #batfamily x male reader

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fallstaticexit · 20 hours

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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: TW this post contains a homophobic slur.

Transcript under the cut

Professor Munch: Everyone, this is Nancy. She’s one of my favorite students. I am so glad she can join us this evening to observe our weekly GSA meeting.

Nancy: And what is a GSA?

Morgan: It stands for Gay–Straight Alliance. It’s just a safe space for queer kids to hang out and talk about real world issues.

Knox: Yeah, we go out and do stuff off campus. It’s pretty tight.

Nancy: Queer? So...this is a club for homosexuals?

Darling: [sucks teeth]

Knox: [chuckles nervously] I mean, sure I guess? Me and Morgan are bisexual. That means we dig the fellas and the ladies, heh.

Professor Munch: What’s important is that this space is for everyone, from all walks of life. We support each other here, no matter who you love. We keep each other safe. That’s why I invited you to sit in on our session. I figured you could use a friend or two-

Nancy: Ugh! Oh my God? You think I’m- I’m not like that, ok!?

Nancy: I am not a homosexual! What the hell made you think I’d want to be apart of something like this?

Professor Munch: No, dear- I’m not implying you’re like anything! This club welcomes all people. I thought you could use the support. Why, your brother started the very first GSA at this school-

Nancy: Oh, don’t you fucking dare! My brother wasn’t some depraved pervert and I’m not a d****!

Darling: [jumps up, chair scrapes hardwood floor] What the fuck did you just say? You can’t come up in calling people that shit!

Nancy: I-I didn’t! All I’m saying is that I’m not like that! I’m not like you-

Darling: Not like who? Not like a d?****?

Darling: What the fuck is your problem? Munch, who is this bitch?

Professor Munch: Easy, Dee. Calm down-

Darling: Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You let some straight white girl walk in here and say something we heard screamed at us our whole fucking life! Say it again! I dare you!

Professor Munch: That’s enough! Please! Let me handle this.

Nancy: [between sobs] M’sorry...m’so sorry...

Professor Munch: [sighs] Just, take some time to think about this, Nancy. Look inward.

Nancy Narrates: [Look inward] x3

Nancy: If it’s ok...I’d like to apologize.

Professor Munch: Everyone? Is it alright if Nancy speaks?

Morgan: I don’t mind.

Darling: [sighs] Whatever man.

Nancy: [exhales] When I first heard that word, I was 11 years old. My mother found letters I wrote to my pen pal. She mailed a photo of herself from her birthday party, she wore this really pretty yellow dress with little blue flowers on them.

Nancy: Yellow is my favorite color, so I said she was as pretty as a sunflower. My mother tore up the letter and made me rewrite it. She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘do you want someone to read this and think you’re a-’

Nancy: She said it again when was 14, a girl from my ballet troupe was only brushing my hair. She pulled me from the class. She said it again two years ago, when she found out that I fell in love with-

Nancy: I know that word hurts because it’s been said to hurt me even though I’m not... It doesn’t matter if I’m not, I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to do. I am so incredibly sorry.

Professor Munch: Thank you for sharing your story. This is what GSA is about. Coming together, creating a community, and creating safe spaces. Dee, is there anything you want to say to Nancy? Anything you’d like to speak on or about how you feel?

Darling: Nah...

Nancy Narrates: [I knew that an apology alone wouldn't suffice to mend the situation. When it came to friendships, I didn’t know how to genuinely make amends, but as a Landgraab, I knew that I could leverage my wealth and status to create a meaningful impact]

Morgan: You got us the biggest hall on campus?! Nancy, this is sick as fuck!

Professor Munch: [laughs] I’ll have to agree with Morgan for lack of a better word. This is sick as heck! I don’t know where to begin to thank you for this gift.

Nancy: It’s the least I could do. Now you can stop meeting in that tiny corner in the commons.

Darling: Charity work for your little sorority, huh? What’s with you, yo?

Nancy: What do you mean?

Darling: You’re so rich, you just buy your way through shit?

Nancy: It’s how I was raised.

Darling: I can’t figure you out.

Nancy: I promise, I’m not a bad person.

Darling: We’re not like everyone else on campus. We’ll show you something real. You gotta be real with us too.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself wanting to do exactly that—to show them the real me, whoever she was]

Siobhan: I’m planning a party for the Thetas Friday night. Perfect opportunity for you to bond with your sisters.

Nancy: I’m a little busy Friday night...maybe next time?

Siobhan: Being apart of a sorority is more than just the cute merch and bragging rights. We’re involved with the community and with this campus. As a pledge, I do expect you to commit to these things.

Nancy: I know and I will. I just need to take care of something.

Siobhan: [sighs] Don’t let me down, sister.

[the group murmurs excitedly]

Professor Munch: You did all this, Nancy?

Nancy: I hope it’s ok I’m here. I figured you could break in your new room with a movie night. Everything is already taken care of, and I bought a ton of movies ranging from comedy to horror and everything in between. They’re all yours to keep! Same with the popcorn machine. I know I’m using money again to impress you but... I guess I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be real. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it all.

Morgan: Yeah, not so fast. Stick around, watch a movie with us!

Nancy: Are you sure?

Knox: Of course we’re sure, squirt.

#the art of being seen #tw homophobic slur #tw internalized homophobia #the landgraabs #nancy landgraab #mila munch #morgan fyres #darling walsh #knox greenburg #geoffrey landgraab #siobhan fyres #bob pancakes #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 stories #ts4 simblr #sims 4

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munsonsmixtapes · 19 hours

Note

If you’re taking requests I would love a fluffy fic between Logan and a usually sunshine! Reader with mutant powers similar to Charles (telepathic). Specifically, one where the usual gang decide to go to a rowdy club to let off steam after a mission. Usually the reader loves team bonding but due to the music, all the thoughts jumping out of the drunk crowd, and her own drinking, she gets super overstimulated and essentially shuts down. Maybe Logan sees her off on her own and trying to manage to get over her dizzy spell while some guy is bothering her and decides to step in and escort her out for a breather and a walk. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡. Regardless if you pick this up, I hope you’re having a great week and I look forward to whatever you post next!

Thank you so much! I hope you're having a great week as well!

cw: mention of alcohol, reader gets anxious

The club was crowded when you entered it. You were all looking forward to letting off steam after your mission and you just liked to spend time with the team, Logan especially. Even though he never would have admitted it, he had a soft spot for you. You were the newest addition to the group and he just felt the need to protect you. You hadn't gotten full control of your powers yet and he wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong.

You made a beeline fore the bar and ordered your usual drink before sitting down on one of the stools, making conversation with everyone around you, even making them laugh with whatever you were talking about. That was one thing that Logan admired about you, that you were always able to make conversation with anyone you came across, which was not something he could do even if he wanted to. He didn't have your charisma or that bright, bubbly personality that he adored so much.

Once he saw that you were okay, he moved further back into the club, but decided to sit somewhere he could still see you. He didn't like drinking when he was doing things like that. He wanted to be one hundred percent alert so he had no problem volunteering to be the designated driver even though his mouth watered anytime he saw someone drinking one of his go-to drinks.

You sipped on your drink as you made conversation with the man next to you. You really hoped that he wasn't going to make a move, though. That wasn't something you were looking for and people often took your niceness for flirting which made the whole thing awkward.

I wonder how long it will be before I can take her home

Your eyebrows furrowed as the thought that definitely wasn't yours and you realized you were reading the mind of the man who was sitting next to you involuntarily. That had only happened when you were overwhelmed or if you had gotten a few drinks in you so you tried to not go overboard because of that.

And all of a sudden, so many thoughts that weren't yours were flooding your brain, making it ache. And between that and the loud music and the alcohol in your system, you were suddenly feeling overstimulated.

You set your drink down on the bar and clutched yor head with both hands, feeling it pounding, almost as if was going to explode. You didn't know what to do, but what you did know was that you needed to get out of there, and fast.

Logan watched everything unfold from his seat, watching you holding onto your head, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks even from there. And before he could stop himself, he was making a beeline for you, scooping you into his arms before ushering you out of the building.

He was carrying you by the time you got to the door, knowing that you didn't have it in yourself to walk. And he just wanted to get you out of the madness as quick as possible. He had never seen you like that before and hated the feeling he got in his chest watching you struggle like that.

Logan got you out of the club in record speed and set you down, pulling you to his chest, hoping that getting you out of there was actually helpful to your situation. And it was. As soon as you got out into the open air, the voices fled, the pressure in your head slowly dissipating.

He pulled you to his chest as you cried, stroking your hair while his other hand rested on his back. You held onto him so tightly, convinced that if you didn't, he would just disappear. But he wouldn't. Logan would never leave you and he had told you that numerous times when he helped clean up your injuries after a mission.

"You're okay," he murmured into your hair. "I'm here. Just listen to my heart, okay?"

Logan had to admit that he was never good at comforting people, but with you, it was like second nature. He was able to do it so easily, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed to hear. And he had gotten so good at it that he noticed you seeking him out for advice or help when you needed as opposed to going to the others.

You pulled away to look at him once you had calmed down and he reached up to wipe your tears away, trying to make sure that you were doing okay before leading you to where he parked his car.

"I have some ice cream in my freezer with your name on it," he said as he opened the passenger door for you.

"You know me so well," you smiled as you got into the car. And he did. He knew you better than you knew yourself and you were grateful for that. Someone needed to look out for you and you were just glad that it was always Logan.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett fluff #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x fem!reader #wolverine x y/n #wolverine x you #wolverine fluff

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cherriesformatt · 1 day

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you belong with me || matt sturniolo

mattxfem!reader

summary: reader is in love with matt but he has a bitchy ass girlfriend so she is just there for him every time he needs a friend

warnings: angst, fluff, a bit sad, kiss

word count: 1,5k

a/n: hi it's a first day of autumn! did not proof read yet

🍒

I walked in to my best friend's house as we were supposed to hang out this evening but as I walked up to the living room I heard some voices from his room. Sounded like he was on a phone walking around his room.

"I told you we were hanging out today, I saw you this morning and we went shopping. I did not see y/n for a week!" I heard Matt say.

His voice and tone told me him and Ginny were arguing again. About me. Again.

I sight and I already knew that our plan to hang out will go to hell because he will go and apologize to her. Thats how it was for a past 5 months of their dating.

It is not that I do not like her. I want Matt to be happy. I just feel like she is not what is good for him. She does not even know him and they have nothing in common. I do not even know how this whole thing happened.

When I saw him walking into the kitchen as I was sitting at the table I smiled lightly.

"Hi, I brought the coloring books we got last month and some snacks" I said.

"I-I am sorry y/n can we do it another day? I have to.."He looked at me with sad eyes.

"you have to go to see Ginny, I know. It is fine, 'course we can do it another time" I made myself to smile at him.

He not and juts turned around and left. Just like that. I left the bag with stuff I brought and let myself out as I closed the door behind me.

On Friday Nick asked me to come to one of the parties they have been invited to and I agreed. He told me I can wear whatever and that the party is at Jake's house. So nothing that fancy. I put my low rise jeans on and ransom baby tee that I got from Matt. I did my makeup as I usually do and left my hair down. I put on my sneakers and left my house to go and meet my friends at their house so we could take one car.

"Finally..." I heard Ginny sight as I walked into their living room.

"Hi, we can go, sorry there was a bit of a traffic" I said and smiled when I saw everyone.

"Are you going to change?" Ginny asked me and I looked at her questioningly.

"No? This is what I am wearing" I said and she only nod and took her purse.

She had on a very short dress and pair of platforms and her hair was done nicely as well as her makeup. She looked good, she always did. But the way she was always dressed was not my style at all.

"You look great, kid. Do not listen to her, your fit is fire" Chris said guilty to me as we were walking down to the garage. I looked back at him and just smiled to thank him.

"Can we play new carti's song? It's so good" I said to Matt as I lean in to the front seat. I was seating next to Nick in the back and Chris was seating behind us. Matt and Ginny were in the front.

"No, we're listening to my music" Ginny said and I looked at Chris as he looked at me. None of us liked her music taste.

Few days later Matt asked me to go for a midnight walk with him as we used to do all the time. I was so happy to finally spend time with him. He came to my house and we went out. We were talking and laughing and it felt as I did not see his smile for so long. My favorite smile of all.

"Matt are you okay?" I asked looking at him.

"Yes, why? Of course I am" He said and I nod.

Of course he was. He loved her.

"I need to tell you what dreams I had the other nigh.. I told Ginny but she always say my dreams are fucked up" He said.

I smile because we always were telling each other about dreams we had. I could listen to him for hours. And so I did.

After he walked me back and was about to go. He hugged me so tight that I almost gasped. I wrapped my arms around him and gently crossed his back.

"I missed this...spending time with you. I am so sorry y/n, I was bad friend" He said and stepped away a bit still holding me. I looked at his eyes and I swear I felt like his face was getting closer to mine.

"No worries Matt, all good. I am glad we could spend time now" I said and then he moved away. I wished he did not.

We said goodnights and he left. As I walked in to my room all the emotions I've been holding just left my body. I cried myself to sleep that night. I just wished I was the one that was making him happy.

I have been so busy with school and my job that I released two week passed from when I last time hang out with Nick, Chris or Matt. We have been texting on the group chat that we had since high school but Matt was pretty quiet on it.

I was finishing my shift as I saw Nick calling me. Nick never calls. I picked up.

"Everything okay?" I asked straight away.

"Not really. They broke up. I think he needs you. He won't talk to us" Nick said and my heart broke thinking of Matt not feeling well.

I drove straight to their house from the coffee store I worked at. I was still wearing my uniform. I wanted to be there as quick as I could. I walked in to the house holding a bag of pastries and trey off hot coco.

"Hi, is he in his room?" I asked as I saw Nick and Chris in the kitchen.

"Yes, thanks for coming here" Nick said.

"Of course, here thats for you" I gave them one bag and two cups with chocolate drink.

"Thank you y/n" Chris smiled and rubbed my arm. I nod and took a deep breath as I walked to his doors.

I knocked on it lightly.

"Come in" I heard so I did.

I looked around and Matt was laying on his bed. He was on his side and his head was laying on the pumpkin stuffy he got recently.

"Hi...Ho are you?" I asked and took a seat next to him.

"I brought you hot coco and your favorite donut" I said putting it on the shelf next to his bed.

"Better now... that you are here" He said and he moved and he put his head on my lap. My heart felt like it is going to explode. I sight and I gently started to scratch his head as I knew he liked. And I felt him relax. I smiled looking down at him. He looked like a big baby.

"She was not worth you" I whispered.

"I know" He simply said and that got me surprised.

"That is not why I have been sad. Honestly from the begging I knew she was not it. I mean we never really even had anything to do together. Every time I spent time with her I was thinking about talking to...well you" He said quietly and moved away.

He brought his body up to so he was now sitting in front of me.

"I am sorry y/n, this past two weeks.. All I could think about was how happy I felt on that walk with you how happy you made me feel how she never did" He said.

"And I know... I messed up so bed but... I wanna fix it... I want all of this again.. I want you... I want you more than a friend... I want..." He started but I just could not wait any longer. I grabbed his face and lean in to kiss him.

It felt like I was waiting for this moment for eternity of time. Cartwheels in my stomach were going crazy when he kissed me back. I tangle my hand back into his hair as I let him take control of the kiss.

When we moved away with heavy breaths I smiled at him. He brushed my hair out of my face and smiled as well.

"I was so scared you won't feel the same" He said.

"Well then you must be blind because I was feeling this way since we were 18" I said and he lean in to kiss my temple.

"What can I do to reward you my stupid behavior?" He asked and I smiled.

"Can we finally color the books that I brought you?" I asked and he laughed.

"Yes... you go change and I will get all the stuff" He said and smiled so bright at me that I felt like whole world disappeared for me and there was only him.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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slaaverin · 2 days

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Are you sure? Initial thoughts

Ah I've been rereading a post I made before AYS aired about my excitement and hope for the show.

How joyful yet filled with dread I was about what would be on display, what would be uncovered, and people's reaction.

In retrospect, I think AYS gave us everything we hoped for and more.

We saw jikook relaxed and comfortable, enjoying their time together, doing mundane stuff, with quiet and simple moments, or doing fun activities where they felt free and joyful and in the present moment.

My takeway of this show and jikook's relationship is their sense of belonging.

I hoped for a closer look into their dynamic and we really got that.

The way their relationship works is that no matter what they are doing (or not doing), you can see how much pleasure they are taking for simply being in each other's presence. There is a flow and an ease between them that never gets disrupted by anything. They simply adapt to their circumstances and keep being authentic and enjoy the time together.

They showed several times how important these trips were for them.

But in truth it showed it was not (only) about the trips.

What is really obvious is how much they value their relationship, how much care they put in it.

This is not about the trips, this is not about making a show.

This is allowing time to tend and to nurture this relationship they deeply love.

That's what most important.

It matters to them, so much.

Even with Jungkook (we can see it in I am still) crazy schedule. Maybe because of his schedule.

It was needed, it was even indispensable.

Now we have all the information, I cannot see them not making those trips before military. They craved it so much, and they loved it so much, it was for their own mental health and well-being, to keep their internal balance.

When your world turns upside down, when you are faced with the Unknown, your first instinct is to reassure yourself, is to go home, and make yourself a cup of warm tea, and do the things that makes you feel calm and relaxed. As humans we tend to do this, to take cover, to retreat, in the safest place we know, to ease our hearts and to make us think everything will be ok.

That's what Jimin & Jungkook did.

They went home to each other. They took cover into the ease and softness of their relationship, because that's known. Because that's safe. It's where they feel they belong and they can rest.

I understand why.

Such relationship is an oddity in the real world, it's once every blue moon, it doesn't come easily, sometimes people spend their whole life searching for it.

We can see also how much the dynamic is different with other members. Nothing compares to them.

I think jikook are aware of this (because they are smart people) so when you find something so precious, you want to care for it and keep it close to your heart.

It shows in how much tenderness they have for e/o.

Jungkook plays the "baby alpha" yet with Jimin he transforms into the most caring and protective.

Jimin is a selfless guy in general but we see how he truly deeply enjoys seeing Jungkook happy. "All for your happiness".

Damn it makes me tear up just to think about it.

They are SO LOUD. My god.

It is so goddamn beautiful to witness.

At this point I am simply happy for them.

Happy they have each other. Happy they got to show who they are together with no repercussions (because thank god people are still stupid! Blessed be the ignorant)

This show was a rollercoaster of emotions, but now we know, now we see, now we say "Ah yes, that's it. This is what this is about"

Forever grateful to them for trusting us like this with a huge part of themselves.

They really do love us a lot.

(I'm writing this as I should be editing the show, so this post is pure procrastination, let me to back to work 😂)

Thank you for reading 💜

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #are you sure #travel show

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iamtired10 · 19 hours

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COMFORT

— ★ fluffy Headcanons 😮‍💨

pairing - newjeans members x female reader

synopsis - what they’d do to comfort you when you're dealing with cramps, mood swings, or just the whole period thing.

warning - period talk, soft fluff.

a/n - trying to survive, but here we are. and big thanks to @miana-bunnies for the HUGE list of ideas! this one’s from ur suggestions (LOVE YOU BRO!)

minji (kim minji)

minji is the girlfriend who has every detail of your period memorized.

she knows when it’s coming, your cravings, the mood swings—everything.

so when she sees you curled up on the couch with a pillow squished to your stomach, she’s already on it.

without a word she disappears into the kitchen and returns with a cup of your favorite tea and a heated blanket.

“here.. drink this, it’ll help,” she says, her voice calm and soft. she kneels beside you, gently wrapping the blanket around your shoulders like she’s your personal caretaker.

but when you start to tear up for no reason (damn those hormones), minji’s face softens immediately.

“oh no.. no, no, don’t cry, baby..” she coos, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her lap.

she holds you close, rubbing small circles on your back. and just when you think she couldn’t be more perfect, she pulls out your favorite comfort snack—a giant bar of chocolate.

“i know it doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a start, right?” she says with that soft smile that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

she’d hold you in her arms for as long as you need, never once making you feel like you’re a burden for your mood swings.

if anything, she’s your rock through it all, quietly soothing you with her steady presence and soft touches.

minji’s your period angel.

hanni (pham hanni)

hanni has a different approach—she’s all about making you laugh through the pain.

the moment she sees your frown and hears you snap at something minor, she knows what time of the month it is.

“mood swings, huh? i gotchu, babe,” she’d say with a playful wink.

you’re sitting there ready to cry about how life is so unfair, and suddenly, hanni’s in the kitchen, rummaging around.

next thing you know, she’s walking out with a big bowl of ice cream and all the toppings in the world—sprinkles, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, you name it.

“okay, i’m gonna make you the world’s best period sundae..” she says, all proud.

you laugh through your cramps, even though you’re feeling miserable.

then, to make you feel even better, she starts doing silly dances and making goofy faces to distract you from the pain.

“is it working?” she asks with wide, hopeful eyes, like she’s desperate for your smile.

and when you finally crack a laugh, she beams like she’s just won the lottery.

even when your cramps hit hard, hanni’s there, offering back massages, snuggling up with you under a blanket, or just making you feel less miserable.

her goal is simple—to see you smile, no matter what.

danielle (danielle marsh)

danielle’s the girlfriend who immediately goes into care mode the moment you mention that you’re on your period.

she’s done her research—seriously, she probably googled the best foods and remedies for cramps before your period even started.

so when your mood swings hit, and you start feeling all weepy and irritated for no reason, danielle’s already making you something.

she’d come into the room with a big bowl of steaming hot soup. “i read somewhere that this helps with cramps,” she says with a sweet smile, offering you the spoon.

and if you feel too lazy to eat, danielle would happily feed you herself, all while peppering your forehead with gentle kisses between each spoonful.

when your emotions start overwhelming you, and you feel like bursting into tears over the smallest thing, danielle’s arms are instantly around you, cradling you close. “it’s okay.. let it out, baby.. i’m here,” she whispers.

she’s so patient, never once making you feel guilty for being emotional.

and once your tears dry up, she’ll cuddle you up in a blanket burrito, sitting next to you and turning on your favorite comfort movie.

danielle is the queen of pampering you through the tough times, making you feel like a princess even when you’re at your lowest.

haerin (kang haerin)

haerin doesn’t say much, but she’s silently attentive.

the moment she notices your mood swings kick in, she’s by your side, giving you these soft, knowing looks.

she’s not big on grand gestures, but she’s got the subtle comfort thing down perfectly. when your cramps hit, and your mood swings are all over the place, haerin would quietly disappear into the kitchen and come back with something simple but effective—maybe a warm mug of ginger tea, or a plate of your favorite comfort food.

she’d hand it to you, and just sit beside you, her presence alone calming you down.

if you’re feeling emotional and overwhelmed, haerin wouldn’t try to fix it with words.

instead, she’d lay down with you, pulling you into her arms and resting her chin on top of your head. “it’s okay... i’m here, always..” she’d whisper softly.

her hands would run through your hair in soft, rhythmic motions, and the simple gesture would ground you, making the mood swings feel less intense.

haerin knows how to read you like an open book.

she knows when you need silence, and when you need her to speak, even if it’s just a soft, “it’s okay to feel this way..”

she’s like the calm in the middle of your storm, offering quiet strength when you’re feeling at your most fragile.

hyein (lee hyein)

hyein’s the type to panic a little when your mood swings hit hard.

one moment you’re crying about a sad movie scene, and the next, you’re snapping at her for no reason.

“okay, okay.. crisis mode,” she mutters to herself, running around the kitchen in search of anything that could make you feel better.

she comes back with snacks—like every snack she could find. “i wasn’t sure what you wanted, so i brought everything,” she says, arms full of chips, chocolate, and even some random fruit you probably don’t even like.

when you groan in pain from the cramps, she panics a little more. “do you need a heating pad? wait, do we even have one? i’ll make one! i’ll do it myself!” she says, rushing off to fix things like she’s on a mission.

even though she’s a little chaotic, it’s all incredibly sweet and you can’t help but smile at how much she cares.

once she finally calms down, hyein would sit beside you, nervously offering you some chocolate. “i swear i’m trying.. i don’t know what to do, but.. i’m here?” she says, her voice softening at the end.

she’d wrap her arm around you, and when she sees you relax into her, she lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

hyein might be young, but she’s always trying her best to make you feel loved, and in moments like this.

it’s all that matters.

#newjeans #new jeans x reader #fluff #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #kim minji #hanni x reader #fanfiction #pham hanni x reader #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #x female reader #kang haerin x reader #haerin x reader #lee hyein x reader #hyein x reader

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1d1195 · 17 hours

Text

Honey VI

Read Honey here | ~5.3k words

From me: I know not everyone likes smut so you can read this part directly after part 4 if you'd like. All you need to know is that they had sex in part 5.

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions of sex but not describing everything. I don't think you'll like the ending to this part hehehe

Summary: “Hey kitten,” he hummed, settling her on the mattress. She looked so perfect there. Beautiful.

“Hmm?” She tucked herself into his sheets. Her face smushed into his pillow. He smiled, rubbed his hand on her hip and slipped into bed beside her. Her eyes were closed.

“Happy belated birthday.”

She snorted and tucked her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered.

Harry tossed the blanket on the back of the couch across her body. She was stretched out the length of his, her ear right on his chest, her hands cupped on the top of each of his shoulders. Her hips wedged between his legs. He wondered if she felt that his dick was already hardening pressing against the fabric of her underwear.

Pulling the thin piece of her panties from her center was one of the hottest things he had ever done before lining himself up with her. He worried he would never want her to take her underwear off just so he could gaze at the way it looked. (Although he was certain he could be convinced otherwise). His hands went to her back, and he kissed the top of her head. “You okay, love?” He asked. She nodded silently. “Y’sure?” Another wordless shake of her head. Harry ran his hand up and down her spine lightly tracing her skin like there was a pattern for him to follow. “Y’can sleep, kitten,” he whispered.

She had sex before, but it was never like that. Her body was exhausted, her face felt flushed and yeah, she was really sleepy. “Mmm?” She sighed. “Okay,” she mumbled.

“Night, love,” he kissed along her hairline.

They both seemed to wake up at the same time and without a clock or their phones nearby, there was no way to tell how late it was. Cece hadn’t made a peep, so she was still in the early stages of her deepest sleep. So only a few hours had passed, since her bedtime. It was still pitch black, so the power hadn’t returned either.

Harry kissed her hairline again, unaware that she was awake. In response, she kissed his chest, nosing at his skin.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You can’t see me.”

“Don’t need to.”

She smiled.

“Tell me ‘bout you,” he murmured.

“Tell you what?”

“Well, I know your favorite food is French fries and that y’like dogs more than cats. I know y’love your family even if they’re lazy and don’t show how much they love you. I know where y’went t’school and your best friend’s name is Eliza even if y’hardly see her or talk t’her.”

“There’s not much else to know,” she shrugged one shoulder.

“Why did y’start nannying? With your degree?”

She bit her lip. “I babysat most of my life,” but her voice had an edge to it. There was more and she didn’t want to tell him. Harry could sense it.

“Y’have a psychology degree with a concentration in child development. And y’have a minor in business. Something tells me that y’didn’t intend t’be a nanny. Even if you’re good at it.”

There was a long pause. Harry thought she fell asleep again. Her voice was soft. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me?”

She nodded. “It’s that baggage I mentioned?”

“I told you I would carry it,” he reminded her.

She didn’t think he didn’t mean it, but she didn’t think he knew what he was saying right before he slid his finger inside her. Her brain was already mush at that point and Harry could have told her anything as long as he made her come the way he did. Taking a deep breath, she was grateful for the dark. “I’ve wanted to be a mom my whole life,” she explained. That didn’t surprise him in the least. The way she held Cece and how kind, adoring, and doting it would be obvious to someone who was blind that she was going to be the most tremendous mother.

“I took care of dolls my entire childhood. Then there was my baby brother. I babysat from the time I was thirteen and all throughout college,” another deep breath. “I met my one and only ex-boyfriend on my first day of college classes. I was eighteen in an intro to business class. I figured if I wanted to open a daycare of my own, it would be good knowledge, right?” Harry’s finger danced along the side of her neck stroking a line up and down not saying anything, just listening. “He was young and didn’t want kids and I didn’t blame him. What eighteen-year-old does? I know I was a rarity—I had a baby brother and was around babies my whole life. I figured he would have grown out of it.”

“He didn’t grow out of it?” Harry asked.

“No... but he told me that he was definitely changing his mind. Every time I mentioned our future or our future children, he just...” she sighed. “He would say things like ‘of course, angel,’” her tone dropped an octave to imitate him. “But he talked about business and cruises. He talked about these extravagant parties and gatherings. Living overseas and expanding his business,” she shrugged. “It sounded nice, but I wanted kids.”

“You were still young,” Harry murmured. He wasn’t agreeing, but he was curious how her college-sweetheart just stopped being that. Surely that was something that would change with time.

“That’s why I stayed with him,” her voice was indifferent. “It wasn’t a bad thing at the time. I knew we both still had plenty of time,” her throat caught on the word time, and she cleared it. “He actually encouraged me to start nannying.”

Harry didn’t like her ex because she deserved everything she wanted. If she wanted to sell Harry’s company, he would do it for her. All he wanted was to see her smile. But if he was the reason that Harry found her... well... maybe he couldn’t hate him too much.

“I’ve always been pretty nurturing, protective, et cetera...” she shrugged. “My friends called me mom in college. I walked around with a mini pharmacy in my purse, and I never got drunk in college because I was busy taking care of my friends. So, my boyfriend figured I would do well, and he introduced me to a friend of a friend who wanted someone to watch their newborn.” She rolled her lips into her mouth before continuing. “I was twenty-two and I have loved babies my whole life. I stopped nannying him when he was three years old. That sweet little boy would be five now and I worry about him every day. Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever did.”

Harry frowned and kissed the top of her head, squeezing her gently. “Why?”

“His parents weren’t around. You said you felt like you weren’t there for Cece. Harry, you have no idea what some parents are like. I was going to doctor’s visits and buying Christmas presents for him on behalf of his parents. I took him to visit family that treated me like his big sister or an aunt—like I was their family and not his parents. It was awful. When I left, I felt like I gave my own child to a pair of strangers. It hurt so much. I cried for a week and seriously considered never babysitting ever again,” she sniffed and shook her head. “I stopped following them on social media. I would have kept asking because I was so scared. I had to stop, or I would... never let go and he wasn’t mine. He wasn’t,” she shook her head. “They made sure to tell me so. Every time I encouraged a change in eating habits or suggested they monitor his sleeping... they berated me for overstepping.”

“Probably because they were embarrassed, love,” he frowned and cupped the back of her head. Harry was seriously addicted to kissing her. It didn’t have to be her lips, though he loved that too. Kissing her hairline and touching her soft, delicate face was becoming his favorite thing.

“Yeah, but...” she shrugged. “It means a lot to me that you value my opinion. I don’t think you’re a bad dad at all, but you don’t mind asking questions. It’s... it’s like, I would never open a business without asking for your help,” she explained. “Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” he nodded. “I would be lost without you,” his heart hurt on her behalf. “Why did y’leave?” He asked.

She swallowed. “They were pregnant,” Harry waited. “I was there six days a week from six in the morning until eight in the evening. I was exhausted and it wasn’t because I didn’t love what I was doing, I did. I loved it so much,” she whispered. “But they had made me the most important part of their family and they didn’t even know their little boy,” her voice cracked. “He told me he wished I was his mom,” her voice was hardly audible.

“Oh, kitten,” he pulled her in closer. “He loved you so much.”

“It wasn’t fair to me,” she sniffled. “I just left him.”

“Y’had to, love.”

“He told me he hated me.”

“He was three, sweetheart. Of course he did,” he hummed and kissed the top of her head. “Y’were his favorite person, his best friend.” She sobbed and Harry held her tighter, wishing he could take her pain away. “Y’did the right thing,” he assured her. “Even if it didn’t feel like it.”

She swallowed. “Everyone told me I was an idiot.”

Harry frowned. “Who said that?”

“My family, my boyfriend, my friends,” she listed. “It was such a good job. I could pay my rent and all my bills. I hung out with the cutest kid,” she swallowed.

“Did y’tell them all that other stuff?”

She nodded. “Yeah. They didn’t get it. My boyfriend said I was getting to have a baby—two even, without having to ruin my body or any—”

“God, please tell me y’broke up with him.”

She huffed a breath of sniveling laughter. “Not yet.”

Harry sighed. “So y’found another family?”

She nodded. “I had babysat for Mitch and Sarah before. I was so heartbroken, but I’m a sucker for a cute kid and a mom and dad that are in desperate need of a date night,” she smiled. “Have you seen their kid?”

He chuckled. “He’s sweet, huh?”

“I watched him weekly. Just a date night. It was only a few hours, but they were in awe because I would get bored and clean or whatever they needed. I just did it. I didn’t think about it because I was just...used to it. So, they said they had a couple that needed a nanny,” she swallowed. “I was genuinely scared. I was afraid I would be taken advantage of and I was worried... worried I was going to fall in love with them again,” she whispered. “I did, but it was better this time. Hannah and Pete were parents who wanted to be parents. They loved me, I’m sure you saw, but I was just there to keep their babies safe.”

Harry remembered the glowing recommendations. “Tara and Xavier right?” He asked. She nodded.

“It was a blessing Tara was three years old when I met her and not Xavier. I might not have done it.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

She swallowed. “I was home more, and I noticed that...he wasn’t.”

“What was his name? Y’never said.”

“Cody,” she mumbled.

There was more quiet that ensued while she gathered her thoughts. “I was twenty-four and we had been together for almost seven years...” she took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be married necessarily nor have kids right that second... but...”

“But he didn’t really change?” He finished.

“No, he did,” her voice was hollow. “Just... not for me.”

Oh no. “Kitten,” he hummed. “What—”

“She was pregnant,” she said softly. “Three months along by the time I found out.”

Harry meant what he said about Cece and a sibling. She was still his baby, and he wanted to make sure she got the attention she deserved because he loved her more than anything in the world. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to give her a sibling. One with Miss Honey? Harry could only be so lucky. “I hate Cody,” he grumbled.

“I’m not really a fan myself,” she whispered. Harry kissed her forehead and wished he could take her heart out and massage it like it was a sore muscle and fix it for her. “Hannah insisted I move in,” she swallowed. “I felt so stupid.”

“That was not your fault, love. Y’shouldn’t feel stupid. He’s an idiot.”

“I love my family,” she whispered. “I love them more than anything on this earth,” she swallowed. “But sometimes, I don’t think anyone loves me the way I love them,” she mumbled. “I feel really selfish saying that and I just thought that if I had a family of my own, the one I imagined with Cody and all the babies I wanted to have, then maybe I would feel loved. Like I was someone’s first choice because...” she trailed off and Harry felt a tear fall on his chest right from her cheek. She didn’t speak and Harry waited and waited.

“Christ, kitten,” he muttered. “If y’want a family. Y’deserve one.”

She didn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t want to cry more; honestly, Harry didn’t want her to cry either. He wasn’t sure he could console her without promising to marry her right then and there. How someone dated her for seven years and never proposed was beyond him. It hadn’t even been seven hours since he’d been inside her and he was considering it.

“I’d have to quit nannying,” she added her voice was quiet. “I’m also only freshly twenty-seven. There’s still ample time. But... I have a lot of trust issues, obviously.”

“Kitten,” he tutted. “Don’t you think—”

“I don’t want to scare you,” she started which instantly made his heart beat a little faster. His body felt a little hotter. His throat a little tighter around the words he was going to say. “But I’m... my biological clock is a slave to time and if Cece turns five and starts kindergarten, then I’m probably going to have to—”

“Love, stop,” he interrupted. He wanted to say that he would give her everything. But he had her body wrapped around his less than three hours ago. Coming around his fingers, his tongue, his dick.

“Harry, I...” she swallowed. “I love Cece. An embarrassing amount,” she had a smile in her voice. “It’s impossible to find someone understanding of the nanny thing. Now I’ll always worry that the person I’m with is off making his own family with someone else,” she admitted.

“So you’re jus’ going t’accept that and... not have a family of your own?”

“No, I’ve done some research on sperm donation. It’s my best option. And that’s fine. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I’m not sure I’d be a good wife.”

There was truly no way Harry could fathom that. There was no way she wasn’t the best at anything she did. Fuck, she was a better secretary than anyone he could possibly hire. “How are you holding up with all that baggage?”

“Light as a feather,” he mumbled grumpily. He kissed her temple. He was already planning, plotting. Hoping.

“It... it was nice talking about it,” she whispered. “What’s in your dick that made me blab all that?”

He chuckled. “Truth serum.”

“That’s disgusting,” she gagged. “Don’t tell other girls that, they won’t like it. You’re lucky I’m so cool.”

Harry wanted to ask her if she really thought there were other girls. There weren’t. But if there had been, they paled in comparison to her. There was no one else. There could be no one else anymore. He had been waiting for someone like her, unable to believe he could have someone like her any longer. He had a baby to care for and a company to run. Women didn’t love him for him anymore.

Harry didn’t love anyone besides his baby, his company, and his family.

But he hadn’t accounted for Miss Honey and her sweetness, her kindness.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry realized how tired he was again. Poor thing had to be emotionally exhausted as well. He gently moved her to the inside of the couch “Sit up for me, kitten,” he asked quietly. She rubbed her eye that extra cute way that she did like when he went to her bedroom door in the middle of the night for help with Cece.

He slipped his boxers back on and turned off the little battery-operated candles. There were scrabble pieces all over the floor, but he would deal with them in the morning. She was half asleep, eyes fluttering and trying to stay open. He grabbed their clothes from the floor and threw them into her lap with the blanket that was still wrapped around her.

Harry scooped her into his embrace, cradling her like he was carrying a bride. It made his heart skip a beat. Without discussing it, he carried her to his bedroom. He didn’t want to be apart from her. It felt like he was carrying half his heart in his arms. Her fall blanket had been long since swapped out with a Christmas one and it was draped haphazardly across her keeping her warm as the only thing she wore was the scrap of fabric she was passing off as underwear and that pretty pink bra. “Hey kitten,” he hummed, settling her on the mattress. She looked so perfect there. Beautiful.

“Hmm?” She tucked herself into his sheets almost instantly. Her face smushed into his pillow. He smiled, rubbed his hand on her hip and slipped into bed beside her. Her eyes were closed.

“Happy belated birthday.”

She snorted and tucked her face into his chest. “Thank you, Harry,” she whispered falling asleep nearly the moment she finished speaking.

Sleeping with her boss might be the dumbest thing she had ever done.

About ten of her romance novels consisted of this very plot line and she was victim of it per her own doing. Harry’s heavy arm was draped around her waist leaving her trapped beneath it and his soft bedding.

Fortunately, before she had time to spiral, Cece made her presence known. It gave her a reprieve from thinking about how stupid she was. It was something tangible to focus on that wasn’t the ache between her legs from having Harry—

She shook her head. Without another sound in the house, not even the quiet hum of the heating system, it heightened the sound of Cece’s small cry.

She pulled herself out from under Harry, frowning at how cold it was outside his blanket-like body. The first article of clothing she plucked from the floor—which happened to be one of Harry’s T-shirts—and slipped it over her body. Quietly, she went to Cece’s room. “Hello sweet girl,” her voice was soft, and Cece stopped crying instantly. “What are you doing?” She cooed. Cece continued to fuss without crying, so she scooped her up and kissed the side of her head. “Is it the rain and thunder?” She asked. “It’s okay. It’s just a little weather,” she assured her. “Are you cold?” she whispered. “I know,” she sighed. “Let’s go see if Daddy can keep us warm,” she murmured, kissing her temple.

Before she took one step to turn around, a hand circled the front of her stomach, pressing low, making her eyes flutter because Harry had touched and pressed so many parts of her body and he seemed to pull noises and warmth from her without even trying.

Harry’s lips found the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck, and peppered kisses along the made-up path he created from her shoulder to her ear. “You’re so good with her,” he murmured. “It’s so hot,” he whispered. She shivered even though she was about ten thousand degrees warmer than she was a moment before. “She’s cold?” he mumbled into her neck.

She nodded, unable to speak with his mouth on her pulse. He steered her out of the room by her hips, his fingers pressing against spots that he had pressed only hours before. Back toward the living room where he had made her come more times in one sitting than she had in weeks. Her cheeks felt warm as she followed his silent direction—like she was returning to the scene of a crime.

A really hot, sexy crime.

Harry left for his room again, but it was only moments before he was back at her side. He pulled her toward the couch making her stomach flip with the knowledge of what they did. He stretched his legs across the chaise part of the sofa and pulled her down, so her bum wedged between his leg and the sofa arm. Her legs stretched perpendicularly to his, across the couch.

Harry pulled the comforter he had dragged from his room across the three of them and snagged Cece’s crescent pillow from the floor, half under the couch from where it had landed while he was holding her legs open earlier. Harry kept that thought to a minimum as it was late, and she was sleepily holding his daughter. Gently, he tucked the pillow under her arms so most of Cece’s weight would be supported. “S’this dangerous?” He asked curiously.

“A few months ago, yeah... But I’m a pretty light sleeper. She’ll move before it’s an issue.”

Harry kissed the top of her head which had shifted down to the front of his shoulder. “You’re warm?”

“Very,” she promised.

“She’s warm?” He asked.

She wrapped her arms tighter around her and kissed her forehead, making Harry’s heart ache. “Mmm... are you warm?”

“Very,” he smiled. Even if he wasn’t, it was sweet she cared to ask. She was the one holding the baby. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you,” he murmured.

She tilted her head up and her beautiful wide eyes gazed at him and her lips curved upward so cutely he felt downright hot. No need for a blanket when he could see her smile like that. Harry cupped the side of her head. His thumb brushed along her cheek.

The quiet beating of his heart was under her ear and made her fall asleep.

Cece woke them up along with every light on in the house signaling the power was back. Harry’s shoulder felt deadened from her head against it for so many hours. He blinked against the light and glanced at the Scrabble tiles strung haphazardly on the floor. “Good morning, Miss Cecelia,” she cooed and kissed her forehead. “We’re nice and toasty, hmm?”

Harry smiled. His heart so completely full. As full as his arms felt.

“Let’s go change your bum, yeah?” She twisted slightly. “Hold her so I don’t injure you?” She smiled awkwardly. Harry really did a number on her hair while he made out with her last night, but she was still so beautiful it hurt. Her face still had a post-orgasmic glow about it and honestly it was kind of her to worry about Harry’s dick so close to her butt and not wanting to injure him, but she could probably feel it—a reminder that he was so turned on by her.

Harry kissed Cece’s cheek repeatedly. “Good morning, my sweet girl,” he cooed and nosed at her soft skin. She giggled happily and left an open-mouthed kiss on his face making him fall harder for the little baby.

Miss Honey hadn’t moved an inch while she watched the interaction, only inches from her face and she smiled sadly as she finally moved off his lap. Harry was so cold without her body around his it took every ounce of his effort to refrain from pulling her right back down.

She was still in his T-shirt and because her underwear was thin and hiding between her plump butt cheeks, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Harry also had to refrain from groaning at the sight. He was glad the comforter was thrown over his lap because it hid the massive amount of indecency he was sporting at the sight of her. She plucked Cece from him and headed down the hall.

Harry picked up the Scrabble tiles trying to forget how good she tasted on the back of his couch so the blood in his body would drain to anywhere else but it’s current space. Eventually, she returned to the kitchen. Unfortunately, she was wearing pants and Harry thought it was unfair she didn’t even ask if he could get another look beforehand.

Cece was wrapped, as always, around her as she started her morning routine. Food, bottle, tea, coffee. Business as always. “Kitten, y’don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” she wasn’t facing him. But he could practically feel the heat of her cheeks, flushed with embarrassment. Her voice was shaky. Higher than normal.

“Y’okay?” He asked, his eyebrows pinching together as he watched her work without turning around. “Y’feel okay? Not sore or—”

“Harry,” she swallowed pausing her movements and Cece was suckling on her pacifier watching the pretty woman curiously.

“What, love?” He frowned. “Y’sure you’re alright? Y’sound—”

She put a hand on her face. “Harry, I feel...” she whispered and turned around.

Harry thought she was stunning when she perched over him and slid up and down his cock. But there was nothing like the sight of her, baby on her hip, freshly fucked and flushed, and sleepy looking as she made breakfast in his kitchen. “Y’feel what?” He asked, clearing his throat before he told her he loved her. How quickly he turned into a teenage boy ready to profess his love all because she felt so good around his cock.

“Good,” she smiled sadly. “Really, really good,” she promised. Harry smiled happily. Glad she was feeling okay. “But—”

Fuck. NO.

“I think we shouldn’t have—”

“Kitten, no,” he said quickly crossing the kitchen and putting one hand on her free hip. Cece was gazing at him while her little pacifier bounced up and down in her mouth. “Love, don’t say it—”

“Harry, you employ me.”

His natural instinct was to fire her right on the spot. Then promptly propose to her.

He shoved that instinct into the bottom of his stomach, but his chest ached knowing she was going to be twenty times stronger than him because she had to be. In her head, she was all alone. Even if that wasn’t true at all. He closed his eyes. “Sweetheart,” he said softly. His voice felt broken, and his heartbeat was thudding too hard.

“Harry, I... I really don’t regret that at all. But it was,” she took a deep breath. “It wasn’t the right move,” she looked at his chest. Her face warm with a fresh blush as she probably remembered how he made her come three times in a row. “It was perfect and I like being close with you. But there has to be a line,” she said. “I shouldn’t have crossed it, and I’m sorry. I don’t regret it. Given half the chance, I’d probably do it again,” she admitted.

“We could do it again if—”

“Harry,” she laughed softly, awkwardness coating the sound.

“Angel,” he started but she winced and turned her head away like he had slapped her.

“Please don’t call me that,” she whispered. “That’s the only thing Cody ever called me and—”

“Jesus, kitten, m’sorry. I was jus’—”

“It’s okay,” she looked up briefly, but her face turned another shade darker when their eyes connected. She looked so kissable. He wanted to. Wanted to kiss her and hold her and promise she could have whatever she wanted. Harry didn’t know if she was right. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to do things.

She was employed by him. A lot closer than any other of his employees. Granted he didn’t want to sleep with Niall or give him babies the way he wanted to do for her. “I love Cece,” she reminded him. “I don’t want to jeopardize this because of...” she swallowed. “Because of what we did. We can just forget about it. It was really, really wonderful. Please don’t question that,” her voice was soft. “You’re going to take your leave and I’m going to see my family for a week or two,” she explained. “It’ll be good to have that space and maybe... maybe reset what we’re feeling.”

“Reset,” he repeated.

She nodded. "Isn't there a part of you that wonders if what we did is only because I'm around so much?"

Harry wanted to scream. How could she say that? How could she possibly believe he only made her come three times because she was there? A small voice shouted from the back of his mind: Tell her why! Harry felt his stomach flip and his heart nearly stopped beating.

She didn’t know he loved her. She couldn’t know that his adoration for her had nothing to do with her proximity.

Her innate ability to know what he needed. Organizing papers without asking, folding his laundry, caring for his precious baby.

Just... being there. But not because of space, because it wasn't just because she was present, it was her presence.

No he shook his head. She was scared. She was pushing him away. Scared of all the things she told him the night before. It was her “baggage." The baggage she claimed Harry couldn’t carry because it was so heavy.

But what had he said that made her believe he couldn’t handle it?

Cece doesn’t need a sibling right now.

But she would never want to pressure him to do that—right? Not with what he had been through himself. But then she went and told him all about the way her ex-boyfriend treated her and how it was the only thing she wanted.

I’m just going to get a sperm donor. She said it so casually. There was an expiration date. If Cece turned five before something changed, then she was going to leave.

Harry wanted to give her a million babies. However many she wanted to have, he would give her. He would do it with her. He would quit his job and let her do whatever she wanted. Everything she wanted. A family that adored her and put her first because she deserved it. A family that would travel across the world for her just because they missed her, and she was their favorite thing in the world. A house filled with babies and her pretty maternal self, taking care of them all. Feeding them medicine and making them giggle when they discovered their toes.

He wanted their future children to love her more than him because she deserved that more than anything.

Hell, Cece probably already loved her more than him already.

“Are you going to fire me?” She whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. His hand was holding his shirt wrapped around her body at her hip. The fabric bunched a little tighter than it was before. He released it.

“No, of course not,” he rolled his eyes.

But he was going to make her fall in love with him.

The sooner the better.

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court-jobi · 1 day

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((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @toshiimura))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (retired by injury pro-hero fem!reader)

Words: 2.6K

Rating: T (18+ touches later on, to be safe~)

Warnings: Interrupted first time, heavy petting, established relationship, sharing a bed, honestly just Izuku in love and fluffy times commence in a hotel room.

Summary:

Joining Midoriya Sensei on his work trip -and yes, even sharing a bed for the first time- is medicine for you. The exchange of your passions has -and continues to be- an endless source of healing as you navigate life post-hero work. Each night away, you've danced into a settled calm with him; learning the rhythm of his habits. His sounds, his silences. When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way.

A/N: give me my sweet, simpering Deku, or give me death. Also by the way, yall are the best readers out there, thank you so much for all the love for my lil stories!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Life post-hero work was an adjustment for you… but you were starting to really get into the perks.

The lack of daily physical hardship holds the top spot on your list. PT? You can handle that on a rolling basis– the worst is behind you, and due to what you put yourself through which resulted in your injury, you’re out of official hero work for the foreseeable future- and in a way, grateful for the break on your muscles. You still retain your quirk, but can enjoy its thrills on a more recreational basis– your sweet boyfriend has even helped your healing by way of gentle exercises to keep things moving properly and get life manageable for you.

Next would be the diet. You could certainly dip back into your baking hobby guilt-free now. You couldn’t get away from the hero world entirely -nor did you want to… but being able to settle into an agency office with an hourly job was also an incredible blessing. Late nights here and there were inevitable, but on the whole, you were able to greet and end your days with a steadiness of routine and safety.

Meeting Izuku Midoriya was the icing on your early retirement cake. Where you were tenderly finding your footing off the hero charts, Izuku held your hand to keep you upright. He didn’t lead or pull back on you– just came alongside you, so you didn’t fall too hard on the knees of self-doubt. He’s always so good like that. He knows your path because he himself shares it, and what a thing of fate that is.

New to you now though, is the general scope of free time you have. Not a forced flexibility due to the demand asked of an on-call hero, but you have paid time off. You have flex hours. You can work from home, if you so choose– so when you get the call that Izuku has been asked to hold a spot at the Sports Festival as the lead commentator, you are over the moon that you can answer with a wholehearted ‘yes’ when he asks you to come with him.

As if he’d be anything short of ecstatic, you truly believe the job was made for him. He’s got books upon books of hero research written by hand, and is essentially a walking Brittanica for Japan’s up and coming heroes, because of course he watches every other school’s sports fests in his free time so that his class can be the most prepared. Taking the role Present Mic once held when he was a student is a full-circle moment, and it's pretty precious seeing him in it.

From day one, he’s a master of his craft, and from the couch you share in the observation deck with his co-teacher, Aizawa, you’re beyond impressed. You honestly wouldn’t be able to tell what department he was aligned with; he’s observant and complimentary of every students’ moves. You asked the pro hero hero beside you if this was the case when Izuku was younger, and he merely offered a sleepy,

“Intolerably, yes.”

But you see the lift of his cheek against his eyepatch and know that he’s secretly proud.

The Sports Festival spreads over the course of a week now, as the culture surrounding the events available for support students to engage in has increased- to Izuku’s pride and joy. The training and feats of the heroes wouldn’t be possible without the other side of the coin, so he’s just as enthusiastic to hype up the developments of those courses as well.

Watching your sweet Izuku -catching his eye when he looks back over to you and silently ushers you over to come watch an anticipated match-up of his kids off and on- is medicine for you. This entire exchange of passions has, and continues to be, a source of joy for you and is a treasured part of doing life with him. On that note, the event being held away from your district also grants you extended time to spend together that you normally wouldn’t, given the difference in your professional lives. Here, you’re locked in to five days and four nights of perfectly synced time– something you’ve not been able to do up to this point in your relationship.

Falling asleep and waking up together? This is the best thing ever.

On the first night, it hits your adorably flustered boyfriend that you’d indeed be sharing a room- and bed. That arrangement was something you’d registered the moment he’d asked you and were assuming he’d mentally (and spiritually) prepared for; but evidently it faced him the moment he stepped up to the counter to check in that Nezu had arranged you both to be together by default in the hotel block.

But rather than falling on the trope of taking the armchair or sleeping on the ground like a middle school nervous nelly, Izuku was shy about it at first… but eager for the chance. The secret part of him finally let out some boyish excitement to find a bed big enough for you to actually share. You’d learned here that you both can spoon like you do on the couch, but you have so much room now. On both your parts, you’re a bit giggly and stiff at first- but settle in sweetly for the most comfortable night of your life.

By the second night, you both scoot into your room and -after a day of dancing around each other at more and more events- you’d be heard from the hallway: jumping into his arms and tackling him to the bed, filled with giggles and lots of kissing until you tangle up more willingly to sleep.

Night three, you’d both stayed out longer than you intended; catching up with some of the other instructors, which turned into essentially a repeat of the night you met. You take to talking up a storm on one of the hotel patios in a nerdy exchange of info-dumping and story-swapping that continues for almost three hours. You basically collapsed into bed the instant you got back, not even brushing your teeth out of exhaustion. Then by your fourth, you both are still so tired from the late night before and you flop on the bed, still in the sun-warmed clothes you set out in that morning.

It's so nice to be held by him- and it's torture to then look back up at each other. There’s definitely a softness found in Izuku’s face -as always, when it comes to your perfectly freckled sweetheart- but also something deep and personal. You want to ask him to shower together so badly and get rid of the day together- anything to add to this closeness you’ve been tiptoe-ing through all week. Worry over pushing him when he’s essentially on the clock keeps you from asking. This time, you still go about your rituals separately, only when you get out, you stay in a towel and shorts instead of full dressing down for bed.

When you're at the in-suite mirror doing your expedited, travel-sized skincare routine and Izuku stops by after he's out of the bathroom, he hesitates mid-step from trying to duck around you– and comes close, holds you by the middle. He stands shirtless behind you for the first time, showing you the scarring he carries in its fullest- no more tanks or undershirts hiding the worst from you.

You’re as they say in the movies- incandescently happy.

“You smell so good,” he whispers.

“You feel so good,” you answer. “Wanna go lay down?”

When Izuku meets your gaze in the mirror, you read his mind loud and clear in how he emotes: he fawns, he sighs, then nods in the dearest way. No sense in holding this darn towel up anymore, you simply turn in his arms, drop it, and kiss his surprise away with your reach up to his neck for a kiss. Your first of many, on this last night you could be wrapped up in your incredible boyfriend's arms with nothing but tender intentions on your mind.

Neither of you see a strong need for too many clothes under the sheets for this little foray into skin-to-skin contact, and enjoy a restorative makeout session. He's marked you up a bit, too, by all the harsh kissing he tends to do towards you (you low-key love this, since ‘that’s what makeup’s for’), and you especially appreciate how he plays with you perched in this arrangement.

You’re the first girl he's ever had topless in his reach– which is obvious from how he holds you in his lap nuzzling at your chest,

"Wow, y'r the moss'beautiful woman i'vever seen~"

From your previous talks of dalliances, you proudly keen over him, "I think I'm the only naked woman you've ever seen."

"-I've seen naked women."

You glance back to him, humored but flat, "Who."

Those green doe eyes flicker back up at you, oddly innocent as he quickly names his former classmate, who you’ve commonly heard referred to as Yaomomo,

“Creati?” he tries to jog your memory, “i-it's part of her quirk, I didn't ev’r mean to look..."

Playfully suspicious, you test him, "Never had a feel?"

"I mean,” Izuku sharpens up a little to answer clearly, “She fell on me once, over in one of the training centers- and I wasn't gonna let her hit or head on something.."

"So a 'strategic catch'. Is that what we're calling it?" You sway your chest in front of him, feeling up his own, “I’m a horribly jealous creature, as you well know.”

He sinks and nuzzles gently at your pushed up chest- by his desire for lift. You’re playing with his painfully polite nature, of course- nothing but secure of your place with him.

"Not even once. Promise."

Izuku lays a little kiss on your freshly cleaned skin where your heart lies under the surface, and ends up moaning at how soft it is- and so, keeps peppering kisses to your delight, "Oh wow... Oh wow, you're soft."

His name leaves you in an unsteady sigh as you’ve been scratching through his hair until it starts feeling so sharp and heady that you grip onto his neck in need of more support.

He's working on some passes with his tongue around your nipple when he whisper-sighs up to you,

"mmmm don't stop doing tha'..."

So you play with his hair at his request, and he adores every bit of you that’s in reach: chin to cheek to neck while being the most gently vocal you've ever heard him.

The minute you rolled your barely clothed hips up on his lap just once, he split his attention from holding your waist to him to smoothing over your thigh to encourage the movement.

He started a slinking lean as he did so, losing his absolute mind watching you in a daze, before something dull hit your window - followed by a kid’s call of 'Sorry!!' . You siphon all your attention at the noise in a wide-eyed look that matches his.

Sweetly enough, you noted how fast Izuku held you at the sound, like he was going into strict ‘protect’ mode at the clash of a frisbee.

But, out of danger and out of breath, Izuku simply fell back and palmed his face.

"ughhbyou feel'so good... Mdizzy."

The heat you’d felt simmering in you has died at the interruption, but your fondness sure hasn’t.

You giggled, lowering into his chest and gripping the covers over your shoulders to warm you up, "Good dizzy?"

Even with an arm over his eye, your boy chuckled brilliantly,

"Very good dizzy, hon’. Whew. We uh– we better stop before they start bangin’ on the door next."

You carded through his hair more, self-assured he was still just as taken by you despite the hard stop. How he kept you to him while shuffling the covers over you both was proof he didn’t want you going anywhere. Once settled, he felt he could focus again and brushed your hair back for attention,

"Hi there, handsome~"

"h-hi~" Izuku echoed.

You kissed again, a good deal calmer at first, but growing like a steady fire. Lips roaming, claiming, and keeping you ever closer. Comfort and reclaimed eagerness tipped you over by his strong guiding hand, all in favor to continue to mouth along your clavicle again.

Then, at the first sound of your addictive moans, he detached- forehead to your sternum, watching the rise and fall of your sweet belly beneath him.

"Ahh..” Izuku’s little war with himself was adorable, “w-we should stop. For real. I can’t- that’d be mean."

“You said that,” you answer with mirth, “but I don’t think ‘Little Deku’ agrees~”

Izuku wheezes out your first, middle, last and retired hero title to the point of coughing before you take it easy on him. Poor, desperate thing, brought low by little tease.

You chuffed against his stroke of nerves kindly.

"Yes we should, if you say so," You snaked a hand through his hair, "Thank the Maker we don't have to second guess the chemistry department, huh?"

Izuku laughed brightly, slotting himself atop you, between the legs so you didn't have to feel how semi-hard he was. Snuggling back down, your heartbeats held their own conversation, content to cool to a reasonable temperature and slow things down, together.

"I'm so glad you came here with me." Izuku spoke softly to your neck, "This time with you really does me so much good."

And you really have enjoyed it. Getting to see firsthand the place where much of his proving of himself started, this event forged a lot of bonds with the close friends he still has to this day.

"I'm glad I did too," You kissed the hairline within reach and simply laid comforting scratches along his back. "It's gonna be hell to go back."

"You don't wanna go back to work?"

You threw pity into your voice, "I don't wanna give up this glorified sleepover, no."

You don’t mean just getting carried away with thin walls and thinner restraint. You mean the intimacy that getting out of town sometimes offers in a way nothing else would. The week has made you softer, more in tune to the rhythm of Izuku’s habits. His sounds, his silences.

The dampened shyness you hold thinking about it floats across him, so he laid back onto your arm to look up at you,

"We don't have to. We can still have them~"

"Yeah?" You wonder how, earnestly, and he smiles in kind.

"Yeah!” his answer radiates nothing but pure sunshine, “Whenever you want! I'll come over, and we'll cook, and have podcast nights and snuggle, and... and.."

He’s got a look now- one that teeters along the line of flirty and unsure.

"Snuggle?" you finish for him mercifully.

"Y-yeah."

"Vocal snuggles?"

"Stop it," Izuku hid in your shoulder, "don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you~" you turned and kissed his blushing cheeks, rubbing his shoulder slowly. "No more than I'm making fun of myself for sounding like a wonton Victorian who just caught sight of an ankle for the first time."

His laughter betrays how offended he is at the idea, "Stoooop…"

"Mmmm, I don't think I will!"

Time to take things slow.. that might top your list now. If it means more nights with your hero draped in your arms, then the promise of time spent under his attention beats out any other remedy you’ve found so far.

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