Saying Goodbye To Your Dying Lover

DON’T WANT YOU LIKE A BEST FRIEND

tags: post timeskip!megumi, best friends to lovers, fake dating, wedding AU, drinking & mentions of alcohol, lots of pining and yearning, me writing this and including a lot of megumi dialogue bc writers on here love to make him mute and indifferent >:( he is very passionate to me >:( | wc: 5.4k+

He’s made a mistake.

Oh, Megumi has made a huge mistake. 

He knew he should’ve listened to that tiny, pessimistic voice in the back of his mind when you’d asked him to attend a wedding with you.

Granted, it’s not a terribly strange ask of you—you are best friends, after all. But Megumi should’ve denied your advance the second he discovered the twist to it.

He wasn’t there to be just any old regular wedding plus one. He was there to be your date, your faux boyfriend for the night. To put on a show so your relatives could get off your case for being single. 

With hesitance, he agrees. He can’t not agree to helping you out. Not when you’re his best friend, not when he feels his heart skip a beat every time you so much as sigh in mild disappointment or irritation. 

But, god, was he wrong when he thought he could handle this.

Keep reading

don't mind me, i'm just fond of thinking about SESSHOMARU having a human s/o that ends up targeted by other humans, who judge her for being a youkai's wife / partner. i imagine them trying to kill her because of that,

and she ends up dying with an arrow on her forehead, while she tried to run away.

of course, SESSHOMARU didn't hesitate to return her to life with tenseiga. but the image of his s/o dead, dropped on the floor with void eyes, and an arrow stuck on her forehead as their pale face contrasts with the blood dropping from her wound...

... to the point where it becomes a habit of SESSHOMARU, to always kiss his s/o on that spot, where the arrow was. he does it almost to be sure that his s/o is alive, there with him, as if that death never happened and that arrow was never stuck on that forehead.

i like to imagine that despite tenseiga's healing, his s/o might have a tiny scar, or even something very light where the arrow penetrated her head.

this was a totally 4am thought. 💢

CYNO | King Deshret and the Three Magi

fruits basket ⇢ THIRD TIME’S A CHARM ft. hatori sohma

a three-step guide to hatori sohma’s heart.

wc: 3k

warnings: smoking. talks of soulmates but not really a soulmate au. f2l but you’re more like hatori’s annoyance (affectionate). he’s a simp in denial. fluff with one grain of angst. self-indulgent because i miss my seahorse bae

one: try to get into hatori sohma’s interests.

“i didn’t know you smoke.”

hatori turns to the sound of your voice and upon seeing your approaching figure, he instinctively scoots over to make room for you on the bench by the river.

“occasionally.”

“can you do that thing?” you raise your index finger to draw invisible circles in the air. “you know… smoke rings?”

“yes.” when your eyes light up, he quickly adds: “but i won’t.”

“you are not fun at all,” you tease lightheartedly.

for the first time since you sat next to hatori, you take a look at your surroundings—maybe it was the zodiac curse but despite the already bright green landscape made technicolor by the variety of flowers peppered among the trees and the glitters of sunlight on the clear blue waters, you don’t remember the sohma estate being so alive and vibrant.

bit by bit, you soak it all in before sliding your gaze over to the man beside you as he takes another drag. even with his somber expression, he still looks beautiful from behind the cigarette.

tearing your eyes away from him, you notice a pack of squares peeking out of his lab coat.

“can i try?” you ask.

hatori follows your line of sight and immediately shoves the small carton deeper into his pocket. “no.”

“why not?”

“it’s not good for you.” you open your mouth to protest but he interjects. “stop asking.”

“do one smoke ring then i’ll stop.” at your request, hatori looks at you as if his patience is wearing thin but you don’t budge. “if you never wanted to do it, you should’ve just told me you couldn’t.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose as he internally curses in frustration because you’re not wrong.

“fine,” he concedes, visibly against his will.

genuinely captivated, you keep your eyes trained on hatori’s lips, completely oblivious to the fact that his composed demeanor is now mere pretense and right underneath is a man extremely self-conscious and hyperaware of your close inspection. suddenly, his throat feels dry and his hands clammy.

he’s thankful you’re too preoccupied to notice.

forcing his thoughts away, he puffs at his cigarette and with his mouth formed into an “o”, he blows out a smoke ring. he waits until it fully takes shape in front of you before fanning it away, deliberately ignoring the awestruck gleam in your eyes.

“you have to teach me that,” you enthuse.

“i thought you said you’d stop asking.”

as a doctor, hatori is aware not only of the dangers of tobacco, but also the greater risks of secondhand smoking. and it’s his job to make sure you don’t suffer from any complication—not you in particular, he tells himself—so in spite of his cigarette still having a few drags left, he drops it to the ground and crushes it beneath his heel.

he’s just doing his job.

two: ask hatori sohma if he believes in soulmates.

shortly after sundown, swirly hints of orange and pink have begun mixing with the incoming muted shades of blue across the sky, the temperature of the wind dropping with it—rather rapidly due to the ocean breeze—but that doesn’t stop anyone from going for a swim, save for those dotted about the sand, and giving life to the seafront which only grows brighter due to the lampposts along the perimeter.

however, the oddness of your question pushes the scenery to the background as hatori searches your face for any telltale sign that you’re messing with him. you’re not.

“what brought this on?” he asks.

“just making conversation.”

“have this conversation with ayame.”

unable to count the number of times you’ve rolled your eyes at his curt replies, you’re surprised they haven’t stuck. “can you, at least, humor me?”

“no.”

typical, you think.

walking side by side along the boardwalk, you fall into silence that hatori quickly finds unbearable—which is ironic, considering he’s naturally a reserved man—so he gives in. “fine.”

something jumps in his chest when you turn to him, beaming, but he immediately shoves the feeling down before he can give it any thought.

“i don’t believe in soulmates,” hatori claims. “i think you choose the person you want to be with—or meet them through happenstance, even. but not fate.”

“so…” you drawl, a soft smile involuntarily tugging at the corners of your lips. “you spending time with me tonight—was it by choice?”

you choose the person you want to be with. hatori mentally kicks himself for letting the words roll off his tongue without a care. now you have him right where you want him.

“a coincidence,” he asserts in an attempt to shut you down, already predicting where you’re going with your ribbing. “you were alone and i happened to have some free time.”

“which you chose to spend with me,” you counter triumphantly but even the melodious laughter from your lips fails to blunt the daggers he’s now throwing your way. “okay, sorry. sorry. but assuming soulmates exist, who do you think you’d be with right now?”

“i don’t know,” he answers in one breath.

“what would you be doing right now?”

“i don’t know.”

“you’re the worst.” you huff, finally dropping the subject.

and he’s grateful because he’s lying.

he does believe in kismet.

bound by the curse for most of his life, it was as if he’d been walking on a path that was already carved in stone and waiting at the end of it was his fate with no one to share, only his for the taking—so like some sort of paradox, he refuses to acknowledge destiny altogether, even after the spiritual ties had already been cut. it’s all he’s ever known.

besides, indulging in the idea that something written in the stars could ever be within his reach—even if it was right in front of him taking after your image—is like setting himself up for heartbreak and disappointment.

and hatori sohma’s smarter than that.

three: say “i love you” to someone else.

“you’re quiet today,” hatori says.

“has shigure not annoyed you enough that you actually want me to talk?”

you know shigure hasn’t because he’s been gone for a while now, along with ayame, and hatori’s choice to stay behind is enough for you to assume his friends are up to some shenanigans he couldn’t care less about.

“you’re only half as bad as him,” hatori jokes, a small grin playing on his lips and you can’t help but smile back.

truth be told, your playful exchange can only do so much to mask your feelings until they threaten to spill out of you as soon as you open your mouth. and though you’ve surprisingly managed to keep them under control this whole time, it’s as if you’re constantly being pulled towards opposite ends of the spectrum.

hatori has his way of being within your proximity and still seem so out of reach—you’re never sure if he’s suffocatingly close or you want to be smothered by him.

but you can’t tell him that.

“i’ll just go for a walk,” you say instead.

the sudden announcement causes a look of worry to form on hatori’s face but despite the warmth blooming in your chest over his concern for you, you convince yourself it’s just the doctor in him.

of course, he cares. he cares about everyone.

“are you alright?”

“yeah, i just need some air.”

you leisurely tread the pathways of the estate, mentally counting your steps to keep your mind occupied but eventually losing track anyway as your thoughts drift back to hatori.

before you know it, you’re sat by the lakeside which you instantly recognize from the first time the sohmas took you to their family cottage for an outing.

“care to share the woes of your heart?”

the familiar lilt of ayame’s voice—and his dramatic language—soon echoes in the wind and a smile makes its way to your face, finding his theatrics somewhat comforting at a time like this.

sitting next to you, he asks again. “something on your mind?”

“it’s nothing.”

“perhaps this will lift your spirits?” he plucks a wildflower from the ground, presenting it to you. “may i?” when you give your consent, ayame delicately tucks it behind your ear, leaning slightly further as if to admire his work. “so beautiful and ethereal. truly out of this world.”

“stop.” you say, giggling as you take the flower out of your hair and lean on his shoulder. “thank you, aya. love you.”

ayame rests his head on top of yours. “i love you, too, darling.”

unbeknownst to you, hatori followed you quite shortly, unconvinced by the way you brushed off his concern. but he doesn’t expect to find you with ayame, lax and cheery as opposed to you being closed-off earlier—with him, the voice in his head adds and he wishes he could strike it off.

“can i ask you something?” hatori hears you ask his friend but it’s the familiar question which follows that has his ears perking up. “do you believe in soulmates?”

hatori’s not one to listen in on other people’s converstions so without waiting for ayame’s response, he heads back to the cottage, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

“i know that’s just your face but… why the long face?” shigure asks.

hatori groans. “shut up.”

whatever shigure is about to say dies in his throat as ayame enters through the front door alone.

“where were you?” shigure asks him, acknowledging his arrival.

“i was at the lake with y/n.”

“oh?” the former dog incarnate shoots hatori a knowing look, though he continues to address yuki’s brother. “and what were you two doing?”

“i was wandering around and found her lonesome. like a poor damsel in distress in need of a comforting shoulder so i let her take advantage of me.”

hatori winces at ayame’s ill phrasing. “did you have to say it like that?”

leaning closer, shigure whispers low enough just for hatori to hear. “maybe she needs your comforting shoulder, too.”

“i told you to shut up.”

hatori gets up to leave before shigure can get another word out—he knows shigure will get another word out. with no set destination in mind, his feet move on their own accord. soon, he’s at his usual spot by the river.

you cross his mind again. recounting the events from today, he fails to pinpoint what caused the shift in your demeanor—if he caused it. it only leads to more questions because what did he even do?

he pushes his thoughts away, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette to clear his head but when he sees you walking in his direction, he decides against it.

“why do i always find you here?” you ask as soon as you join him where he’s stood at the riverside.

“it’s peaceful.”

“i’m guessing shigure finally pushed you to your limit.”

“i spoke too soon.” his dry humor coaxes a chuckle out of you and it’s only then hatori realizes how much he missed the sound of it. “i saw you with ayame today.”

“he just stayed with me for a bit. seeing me all by myself must have been too depressing even for him.”

“are you sure you’re okay?”

“mhm,” you hum in confirmation. when hatori doesn’t pry further, you change the subject. “remember when i asked you about soulmates and you told me to ask ayame instead?”

“i remember.” and you did, he doesn’t say out loud.

“well, i did. and he does,” you tell him. “believe, i mean. he said meeting his soulmate would be a beautiful surprise—something about braving the search for the uncertain making the discovery all the more blissful.” you smile as you recall ayame’s words. you can’t fault him for his flamboyant idealism because you know he has a big heart to show for it—it’s who he is. “i know it’s ayame we’re talking about but i think it’s nice to believe in something like that.”

“do you?”

how a question so concise can hold so much weight, you don’t know. but something in the way hatori asks you feels like the load has been dropped to your chest.

i don’t believe in soulmates. to this day, you still hear hatori’s words loud and clear and it’s like your heart is going to cave in. because you do—at least, you want to believe in it.

“i don’t know... maybe?” you suppose that’s the safe answer. “maybe soulmates exist but not everybody gets to meet theirs. sounds unfair, doesn’t it?”

“you can’t let that hold you back.”

a chuckle erupts from your lips though the sound is free of humor. “i’m scared i’ll meet my ‘soulmate’,”—you air quote the word—“and they don’t feel the same way.”

“if they are what you say they are, i don’t think you should worry about it.”

“and if they’re not? i don’t know if i can handle that.”

hatori takes him time mulling his words over before settling on a response. “you can avoid it altogether but there’s nothing worse than spending your whole life thinking what could’ve been…”

you glance at his direction and catch him smiling to himself wistfully as if he’s reminiscing a fond memory. you wonder if he’s thinking about kana.

you’ve never met his ex-fiancée but from what you’ve heard, they seemed to be the epitome of fated lovers had akito not meddled. and as if the knife hadn’t been twisted enough, hatori was forced to erase kana’s memories—being the only sohma to possess that ability—to free her from the torment of her entanglement with the binds of his curse which, in turn, had become hers as well. all because she loved him sincerely.

without any recollection of her relationship with hatori, kana is now married to someone else and hatori seems to have moved on.

you look away from him, staring straight ahead and feeling ashamed because it feels so wrong to use that in your favor but…

“you think i should just go for it?” you ask hatori.

“i do.”

“even if it’s you?”

your voice comes out a whisper but the immediate hush from hatori, amplifying the tension encompassing you both tells you it’s enough to bring everything at a standstill.

the longer his silence drags on, the deeper your heart sinks. you can only wish that in its descent, it crushes the butterflies in your gut, putting an end to your foolish feelings once and for all. but you know it won’t.

just like how you’ve fallen for him, no depth is deep enough—your heart will just have to plummet endlessly. maybe time will numb you but you’re certain that one way or another, you’re always going to have love for him.

“this is the part where you tell me off,” you say in jest but it falls painfully flat.

“if i told you i feel the same way, would you start believing then?”

if it was possible for your entire system to shut down in an instant, you’re almost convinced that it already has because with your breath catching in your throat comes the pounding in your head that matches the beat of your heart hammering wildly against your chest.

you muster enough courage to finally look at hatori, almost flinching when you find him already staring at you. and with that, everything begins to fade out of focus until it’s just him—laying himself bare for the first time and yet, you’re the one who feels disarmed.

even at the zenith of your emotions, his touch still grounds you as his thumb gently swipes over the apple of your cheek. “you’re crying.”

“i’m nervous,” you sheepishly mumble.

“i think i’m the one who should be nervous. i heard you say you love ayame.”

you can never tell with the monotony in hatori’s voice so for a moment, you think he’s crushed but when you only find the affection he holds for you in his eyes, you decide to poke fun at him in your usual good-natured fashion.

“jealous?” despite the shake of his head, a smile creeps across hatori’s face. “he’s my friend, too. i do love him. and shigure. a little.”

hatori laughs—an actual laugh, you note—and closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into his embrace as he presses a chaste kiss on your temple.

as infuriating as shigure’s teasing may be, hatori realizes it’s the little push he needed to take another leap. ever since what happened with kana, the notion of falling in love again seemed too big a risk but now standing on the edge with you, he doesn’t mind the free fall at all.

but hatori swears to die before he tells shigure. otherwise, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“i can’t believe you actually like me,” you mumble against his chest. “is it by choice or you know… ‘happenstance’?”

releasing his hold on your torso, hatori gently cradles your face in his palms, his purple eyes staring into yours so lovingly that it’s in full contrast with the words that come out of his mouth.

“i almost forgot how vexing you are.”

your smirk morphs into a full-blown grin. “you’re not answering my question.”

“figure it out yourself.” his words are muttered against your lips before he captures them with a kiss that swiftly grows in fervor, setting your nerves ablaze—and like ice to a flame, you melt into his touch.

the whole world is soon forgotten—just the two of you in motion as time freezes, giving way and lending itself generously to prolong this moment for your lover to commit to memory. perhaps this is the universe remembering what it owed him and handing it over on a silver platter.

there’s no more binding promise to tie hatori down but careful not to push his luck with jinxes, he doesn’t say anything definite. maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s coincidence, maybe it’s neither or both but one thing is for certain: hatori believes in soulmates.

how else would you have found a way to get under his skin and on his nerves then straight to his heart?

cyno x gn!reader

General Mahamatra’s significant other is here.

Most Akademiya scholars, for all their pride in being well-read intellectuals, have little to no clue on how a person like you managed to have a relationship with the intimidating Matra. You were… well, in most circumstances, they wouldn’t hesitate to judge you based on your background—or lack, thereof, in terms of your studies—but as stated earlier, Lord Cyno is Intimidating.

They watch you bid him goodbye with an embrace and a far too large grin on your bubbly-looking face. Cyno, for his part, returns your embrace stiffly, a rare smile brightening his usually stoic expression. The scholars watch the interaction with barely hidden interest, pretending to read a book or, in one woman’s case, pretending to sweep the floor.

They all collectively cringe inside when they see you trip on your own robes and nearly fall face-first onto the floors if you hadn’t managed to grab onto a table for support. You were just so… they hastily flick their eyes to Lord Cyno in case he magically heard their thoughts, only to see him watching you with a fond, out of place look in his eyes.

Right. There’s the issue of that too. He’s soft when you’re around, less unapproachable to others. But then there’s the issue of you and your general… you-ness.

You’re by the archway leading to the exit a few feet away from him, waving your hand in the air like a child. Then you stop as if an idea has formed in your head, and within this moment and the next, you bring your palm to your lips and blow a kiss in General Mahamatra’s direction, an exaggerated mwah! sound echoing through the chamber.

Most scholars have agreed to never speak of you in a bad tone after seeing what Lord Cyno did to the last person who did so. It’s best to just turn a blind eye to most of the things you do that would normally have them raising an eyebrow like the haughty intellectuals they are.

But this thing they’re seeing right now? It’s absurd enough in their eyes that a few don’t manage to contain the scoff that spills from their lips. (Cyno sweeps a chilling gaze over them and memorizes each face frozen in horror over what they’ve just done.)

Much to the shock of everyone within vicinity of such a display, Cyno doesn’t turn around and ignore your childish act. Instead, he brings his hand up and pretends to catch your kiss, bringing it to his lips before blowing one right back at you. All of this is done with a straight face that would have normally sent a young student running in the opposite direction.

You catch it with both hands and place them right in front of your chest, pretending to swoon as you slowly walked away. It brings the smallest of smiles to Lord Cyno that doesn’t disappear until you’re gone from eyesight.

They have a brief moment to sigh in relief at the thought of them being in the clear.

But then he turns to them with a dark look that has their knees shaking in fear.

“I heard those scoffs.”

They all send a short prayer to Greater Lord Rukkhadevata.

What do apologies mean to someone who doesn't believe them? [Howl Pendragon x Reader]

summary: although you've actually forgotten what he did to upset you earlier that day, you weren't going to give him the delight of forgiving him just yet.

to know: 17+ for suggestive themes + tons of kissing, no pronouns so everyone can read!, probably around 700-800 words.

"Are you still mad at me?"

An old chair groaned and the fire crackled once or twice as Howl loaded it with a few more logs, nudging them into a neat formation with a long piece of iron. Calcifer was far into dreamland, hiding far below and betwixt the hearty slabs of wood until the first light of the morning, or until Sophie started making a ruckus on the stove. Besides the occasional comment from Howl, not at all hushed or considerate to Calcifer, or his chair crying out from his fidgeting, the entire castle was at ease, at peace, asleep.

Howl was the exception to all of this, of course, finding your silence to be disconcerting and unbearable despite his attempts to make his unrest clearly apparent. You simply sat there in Sophie's old wicker-backed rocker, the one chair in the castle that didn't make a bunch of noise, absently flicking through the pages of your catalogue. There was no real reading you'd get done with Howl being an incessant brat trying to weasel himself into your good graces.

To be honest though, you had forgotten what had set you off earlier, only remembering that Howl quickly got miffed by your response and the majority of the day was spent with you out in Market Chipping, whereas he sulked in his room with his many thousands of doodads. By evening time, your frustrations had slipped off of you like water, yet couldn't bring yourself to admit so to Howl.

Awful as it might've been, sometimes that man needed to sweat a little.

So, you kept listening to his chair squeal as he tipped onto two legs, his heels pressing into the face of the hearth to keep himself from toppling forward. A couple of times now you glanced sideways just as he craned his head back, glistening blond hair falling away from his face as he looked at you, doubtlessly hoping to see you looking back. You always pretended the fashionable pictures in your catalogue stole your gaze away.

"You are so cruel to me, so much worse than the grouchy witch living with us." Howl lamented with a sigh, picking up his head to stare on into the dimming embers. "What do you want me to do? Was dinner not enough? Are you going to ask me to beg? I won't do it."

You rolled your jaw hard enough to make it crack, still somehow keeping your composure as more pages fluttered against your fingertips. "Stop being ridiculous. I just want you to apologize."

He gave a troubled look. "Again? Three- or was it four- times wasn't good for you? Any more and you're going to use up all my apologies for the year."

You let the catalogue flip shut, moving it aside to the pile on the ground before standing from the chair. "I want something sincere, not you just apologizing to say you were, Howell. I'm going to my room, goodnight."

His expression was unreadable when you gave him a final look, shaking your head while turning for the stairs. The chair never made a noise as you ascended to the next floor, though truthfully the wails of the worn boards flexing underfoot would've been enough to drown out most of anything from downstairs.

Once changing to your pajamas in the bathroom, snuffing the candles for the night on your way out with an armload of clothes against you, a jolt raced down your spine to find the candles in your room already alight, casting dancing shadows on the adjacent walls in the hallway. You didn't even make it all the way inside your bedroom before Howl had you by the forearm and pulled you the rest of the way.

He was quick to toss aside the clothes in your arms, gently edging your back against the now-closed door, pushing himself flush to you and stooping his shoulders and head to press a hard kiss to your lips. He kissed you like that again and again and again, so many times that you relented early on by coiling your arms around his neck, managing discreet smiles between every kiss.

"You naughty thing, you don't think I didn't figure out what you were up to?" He touched his lips to yours again, briefly and with a loud smack. "It's like you really don't know me at all. Shame on you."

It was hard to stifle the laugh in your throat when he changed his focus to your cheeks, peppering those kisses to your ear, jaw, and neck while his arms roamed the back of you with far too much eagerness.

You let the back of your head hit the wall, taking in a breath through your nostrils as he worked his way across your skin. "To be fair, I was pretty upset at you earlier. I... forget what for. It was petty of me to keep it going, I'm sorry."

His lips stopped on your neck, simply caressing your skin for a moment before he lifted his face away to look into your eyes. Time didn't do much in way of desensitizing the way your gut fluttered, ears blooming with heat he'd look upon you with such sincerity. The depth of darkness in the room was only penetrated by the gentle glow of candles dotted throughout, one nearby enough to make shadows sway across his face and make his blue eyes seem more like glittering crystals.

"I've lied to you twice today," he started, assuring that his arms were firm against you. "The first lie you have my word I'll never do again, and the second was just a while ago when I told you I would never beg. If it meant you would forgive me, always look at me as you are now, I would do anything you'd ask of me... more or less..."

"Howl--"

"I'm sorry. Can you hear it in my voice? Do you believe me when I say it you now?" He kissed you again, and then one more time. "I'm sorry."

He only stopped kissing you when the first light of dawn filtered through the windows, even then he still held you in his arms.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! this was just writing practice for me tonight, but if you did enjoy it would mean a lot for yall to interact or reblog!!

❥ [ 03. ] three hours

I WISH YOU WERE SOBER — [ previous. masterlist. next. ]

synopsis — in which you were never really one for spontaneity or precipitous decisions, until you got yourself drunk at your senior year university party and woke up the next morning with the most dreadful of hangovers…along with a painfully distorted memory of a stolen kiss on that hazy evening.

note — venti @ my dumbass supportive and final braincell

taglist — @tihgnari @ceylestia @eissaaaa @venyan @sohyuki @senjurro @bobaducky @dinoshimaaa @sharoshing @ioverjn @hey-comrade-hold-stil @skaramush @lesboluvs @clovcly @ventuswhat @zephestia @theother-victoria @neptun-es @ihaveahunterlisence @minyoungieee @astolary @wrenhyperfixates @heartonthemoon @goodthingimsam @capybara4lyfers @slvdsjjk @michelindu @kimiesstuff @itssoizzy @kazuzux @hiqhkey @layla240 @justrisahere @one-offmind @diaflower @liquor-kissez @tokanite @pooonyo @sweetstrawberrybabe @yeeden @nejibot @lcvez @rion-s @sakushoujo @koiir @lost-wicked-artist @dampam

“What’s the plan?”

They said nothing.

“There has to be a plan,” The protagonist’s voice cracked. “You always have a plan, right? I mean - you’re not actually going to - going to-”

“Sacrifice myself for you?” They flashed a mocking smile, that scorned the very suggestion of the idea. “Oh,” they touched the protagonist’s chest. “In a heartbeat.” 

is it me or is jungwoo having none of it?

Gestures that would make me fold :

(feel free to use <3 tag me when you write any of ittt, would love to readd ;] )

their hands on your thighs. gently caressing.

when he pulls you closer by your waist (BANGINGA MY HEAD, CRYING, DVSJXBAK)

"come here, say it again"

catching them stare at you in a crowded room

"good girl " SKNXKAJZ

BACK HUGS ! THEIR HANDS AROUND YOUR WAIST !!

when they wipe the corner of your mouth with their thumb

"let me teach you."

kisses that leaves you blushing and curling toes

"Please don't shoot me for this" *proceeds to kiss her* "lift your hips for me, love" AARON FJDJSKZ WARNER.

when they can't hold eye contact

when they can hold eye contact and many other things (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

'nothing makes me fold' when they smile.

when they rest their head on your shoulder >>>

veiny hands. COUGHS NERVOUSLY. haha..

when you say "shut up" and they lean closer to you with a smirk and say, "make me"

"come sit in my lap, babe"

"behave." (OK IM SAT. FUCKSIAN SAT.?)

"use your words, love. what-- do you want?"