#Axel from Date ME!

[happytheoristdreamer]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @cro0kedme !!!

I hope you like it and enjoy this! I had a blast making this for you <3

May all your wishes come true and all that jazz bestie <3 <3 <3

[namtanlovesfilm]

ummmmmmmm... what THE HELL was that? 😒

[bigweldindustries]

laughin @ my mum being like "ur brother is sad he wants a relationship like yours" what am i meant to do about that bro

[leasboyfriend]

im not an ak/usai shipper but damn does aviators have some rly good songs for them

[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Finale

64.media.tumblr.com

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of memory loss, guilt, mentions of car accident, anxiety, angst, trauma, confusion, swearing

Matt's POV

I walked back the way we came, trying to spot Y/n. In the distance I notice a familiar car, one that I only recoginse from being parked outside Y/n’s apartment. It had to be her. Then, before I could stop myself, I found myself driving again. My hands on the wheel, heading toward the one place I knew she’d be. I let the group know they would have to Uber home, I wasn’t too sure how long this was going to take me.

When I stepped into the LA Kings Valley Ice Center, it was almost eerie how quiet it was. The place was practically empty, saved for one lone figure gliding across the ice.

I knew it was her before I even saw her face.

Y/n moved on the ice with such ease, such grace, she was born for it. Watching her skate was like watching poetry in motion. But seeing her there, knowing the way things were the last time we were here, made my chest tighten. I wanted to go to her, to explain everything, to tell her how much I had missed her, but I couldn’t move.

I stood there, frozen, until she attempted a jump, the triple Axel. But she fell. I could sense the disappointment in her, I knew she could do it, I’ve seen her do it. I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my voice breaking the silence. “You know you can do it, Y/n.”

She turned, her eyes wide with surprise as she spotted me standing by the edge of the rink. “What.. what are you doing here?” She asked, her voice shaky as she stood up, brushing the ice off her pants.

Shit. I didn’t know what to say. I was tired of the front I was putting up. I knew it was time to be vulnerable.

“I knew you’d be here..” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but my heart was pounding.

"Wait, how did you-"

"I know you better than anyone else, Y/n," I interrupted. It was the truth. Even if she couldn’t remember everything, I did. I remembered every detail about her, every little thing that made her who she was.

She shook her head, disbelief written across her face. “How could you say that when I don’t even know myself anymore?” Her voice cracked, and it broke something inside me to see her like this, so lost, so unsure.

Standing at the edge of the rink, I watched Y/n, my heart pounding in my chest. “Maybe not” I admitted, stepping forward slowly, careful not to push her away. “But I know the you standing right here, right now. The you who comes to this rink when the world gets too heavy. The you who still feels at home on the ice, even if everything else feels out of control.”

I could see the impact of my words on her face. They impacted her, revealing a truth she didn’t want to confront. As much as she might want to push me away and deny it, in that moment, I felt like I saw her more clearly than she saw herself. But as I spoke, I noticed the tension building in her, the way she held back emotions she had buried for too long. I could feel her vulnerability, and I knew she was struggling with everything inside her.

“I don’t even understand why you’re here, Matt.” she finally said, her voice cracking slightly. The words slipped out, raw and honest. She needed answers, and I had to give them to her.

For a moment, silence enveloped us, thick and heavy. I could see the confusion in her eyes, and I understood it all too well. “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away any longer. I need to tell you everything." I said, my voice was quiet but steady. I looked into her eyes, and I could feel the weight of what was about to unfold.

“I know you’re confused, Y/n, and I don’t blame you. I should’ve been more honest with you from the start, but everything got so messed up.” The regret poured out of me, and I hoped she could sense my sincerity.

Before I knew it I was telling her everything about us. Our whole story together. The double date. My house party. Coming back for her after dropping off Emily. Playing Mario Kart. Alex’s fight. Emily and Alex going to Europe. Trying to cut her off. Nicks friendship with her. Topgolf. Venice beach. All the times I wanted to kiss her. Our first kiss. Our first night spent together. And every little bit in between. The nostalgia washed over me, reminding me of the joy we had shared. “I cared about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. I wanted to protect you, but I couldn’t even do that right.”

The weight of what I had to share next felt heavy in the air. “The night before Alex and Emily came home from Europe, Nick and Chris went to our friend Tara’s party. It was just the two of us in my house, and you told me that Alex and Emily were cheating on us. I thought that was it. Our way out. I was ready, Y/n. I was ready to walk away from Emily and start something real with you.”

I paused, reaching into my pocket to pull out the missing earring I had kept, The missing earring felt symbolic. As soon as she lost it, I lost her out of my life. “It must’ve fallen off in my bed when you passed out that night. You never knew this part.. but Emily found it before I could confront her. She blackmailed me. She told me that if I left her, she’d ruin your life. She’d tell Alex everything and twist it. I didn’t know what else to do. I was a coward. I should’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. She made me go to that party with her the night… I didn’t expect you to be there.”

The pain washed over me again. How clueless to everything Y/n was this whole time. "I saw the confusion on your face as you looked at me, and I felt torn between what I wanted to do and what I had to do. I wanted to pull you close, to tell you how much I cared, but instead, I had to watch you from the sidelines. I found you in the bathroom, and that was when everything spiraled. I told you that what we had was a mistake,” I admitted, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “That it was over.”

Even though she couldn’t fully recall it, I could see the emotional scar in her eyes. I knew I shattered her heart that night, and I’d never forgive myself for it.

“You were devastated, Y/n. I saw it in your eyes. And I’m not going to act like I wasn’t devastated too, even though I had to pretend then.” My voice broke, and I took a shaky breath, the weight of my confession choking me. “I shattered your heart in that bathroom. And then.. you ran. You ran into the street.”

The horror of that night flashed in my mind like a haunting reel. My hands trembled as I brought them to my face, trying to shield myself from the memory.

“I tried to stop you. I tried to yell at you from the balcony…” I whispered, my heart racing as I relived it. “The last thing I heard you say was that you loved me. I know you were about to say you thought I loved you too, but I cut you off. I told you to get off the road... and then-”

The words got stuck in my throat, the pain too much to bear. I pressed my palms against my face, wishing I could push the memories away, but they lingered, tormenting me.

“It’s my fault.” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “All of it. You were only on that road because I made you believe what we had wasn’t real. But it was, Y/n. It was the realest thing I’ve ever had. I’ve never experienced anything like you. And I’ve been grieving you ever since.”

My confession hung heavy in the air, suffocating me with the truth of it all. The anger, confusion, and longing I’d felt since waking up in the hospital crashed over me like a tsunami wave, each feeling more overwhelming than the last.

“And I’m so sorry I never fought for you. I know I should’ve, but then Alex appeared in the hospital. You couldn’t remember me. He was acting like you were still together. You had no memory of us, and I had caused you enough pain as it was. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would be easier for you, that you could heal without me dragging you back into the chaos. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

The silence between us grew thick, filled with all the unspoken words and feelings that had been buried beneath layers of hurt. I could see the regret etched across my own face, the guilt weighing heavily on my shoulders.

“I thought I could forget you, that maybe it would make everything simpler,” I admitted, my voice trembling as I fought back tears. “But you’re unforgettable.”

I stepped closer, desperation clawing at my heart. “Y/n, I’ve spent every day since that night wishing I could take it all back. Even how I acted so standoff-ish around you. It’s because I love you. I always have.”

“I want to show you that what we had was real. I want you to relive it all. I want to fight for you, if you’ll let me.”

Y/n stood there for a long moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she stared at me. I could see the conflict in her expression, the pain that lingered from everything that had happened between us. My heart pounded in my chest, unsure of what would come next. I’d just laid it all out for her. Everything I’d held back, everything I wished I could’ve changed. Now it was up to her to decide.

Then, without warning, she moved.

Before I could even process it, she was in my arms, her body crashing against mine as her arms wrapped tightly around me. She held on like I was her lifeline, clinging to me for dear life, and all I could do was wrap my arms around her in return, holding her just as tightly.

I felt her shoulders shake, her breath hitching against my chest as the tears she’d been holding back finally fell. The sound of her quiet sobs broke something deep inside of me, and I buried my face in her hair, trying to ground myself in the moment. She was here, in my arms, and she hadn’t pushed me away.

“I’m so sorry” I whispered into her hair, my voice cracking. “I’m so, so sorry for everything, Y/n.”

She didn’t say anything, just held on tighter, as if letting go would cause everything to shatter again. I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt, and it took everything in me not to break down right there with her. I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t deserve her forgiveness, her touch. But I couldn’t bring myself to let go.

We stood like that for what felt like forever, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. Just the sound of her quiet cries and the soft hum of the ice rink around us. I felt her heartbeat against mine, her body trembling slightly as she let out everything she had been holding inside.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll earn it back” I promised, my voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, Y/n, I’ll earn it back.”

She stared at me for a long moment, her bottom lip trembling, before resting her forehead against my chest, letting out a shaky breath. Her arms loosened around me, but she didn’t pull away completely.

Y/n’s POV

I was astonished by everything I’d just heard but yet, I still felt that familiar pull to Matt again, the same one that had confused me for so long. It was almost like a battle between my head and my heart. One telling me to run, the other urging me to stay. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as the weight of everything hit me. All I wanted in that moment was his touch, some kind of reassurance that everything wasn’t broken beyond repair. Before I could even process what I was doing, my arms were wrapped around him, holding on tight, because I couldn’t wrap my head around anything else.

Tears streamed down my face as I buried myself into his chest, my sobs muffled against his shirt. It felt like everything had been building to this moment, all the pain, the confusion, the heartbreak. It all came pouring out.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet.” I whispered, my voice fragile, like it might shatter under the weight of those words.

“I’ll earn it back.” Matt promised, his voice thick with emotion, like he was holding on just as tightly to this moment as I was. “I swear to you, Y/n, I’ll earn it back.”

I pulled back just enough to look at him, my eyes still blurry with tears. His face was full of guilt, regret, and something else. A kind of desperation, maybe, like he was afraid this would be the last time he’d have me in his arms. My bottom lip trembled, and I placed my head against his chest again. I wasn’t sure If I was ready to fully let him back in, but I wasn’t ready to let him go either.

Everything felt so overwhelming, but I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to feel this crushing weight, at least not right now.

“Can we just skate for a bit?” I asked softly, my voice barely audible.

Matt nodded, his hand brushing gently against my back. “Yeah, of course.”

I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes as we made our way to the ice. The rink was still completely empty, the perfect setting for this strange, emotional reunion. I stepped onto the ice first, the cool air hitting my face as I glided forward, stinging it in the process.

Matt followed, his steps surprisingly graceful. I turned back, watching as he moved along without falling.

“Wait, did you play hockey?” I asked, curious and a little impressed by how well he was keeping up.

He looked at me, shocked. “You remember that?” His voice was filled with hope, like this small memory coming back meant more than I realized.

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Yeah, it just came to me.”

The tension between us seemed to ease a little as we skated, the ice beneath us smoothing out some of the jagged edges of our past. It wasn’t perfect, and I still wasn’t sure where things would go from here, but for now, this was enough. Just us, on the ice, trying to figure out if there’s a way back to something real.

We skated in silence for a few minutes until Matt broke it. “You should try the triple Axel.”

I turned to him, caught off guard. “What? No, I fucked it up completely there. I can barely keep my balance, and”

“I’ve seen you do it before, Y/n,” Matt said, cutting me off, his voice firm but encouraging. “You’ve nailed it before, and I know you can do it again. Don’t overthink it.”

I shook my head, nervousness creeping in. “I don’t know if I-”

“You’ve got this.” he insisted, skating in front of me, blocking my path. “Just trust yourself. Don’t think. Just do.”

I could see the belief in his eyes, and it made me pause. Matt wasn’t letting me give in to this fear. His faith in me was stronger than the doubt clawed at my thoughts.

I took a deep breath and skated to the other end of the rink, giving myself enough space to build momentum. My heart raced as I picked up speed, every nerve in my body tingling. Matt skated to the edge, watching, his eyes never leaving me.

“Don’t overthink it!” he called out again, his voice echoing in the empty rink.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to push out all the noise in my head. Then I opened them, focused on the ice in front of me, and went for it. I launched myself into the air, spinning once, twice, three times. My body moved on instinct, and before I knew it, I was back on the ice, landing perfectly.

I did it.

Shock and excitement rushed through me as I stopped, barely believing what had just happened. “I.. I did it!” I shouted, my voice full of disbelief.

Matt’s grin stretched wide across his face. In an instant, he was skating toward me, sweeping me off my feet and spinning me around in the air. I laughed, the sound light and free, as Matt twirled me with pure joy.

“You did it!” he exclaimed, his voice full of pride as he set me down gently but kept his arms around me. “I told you, Y/n, I knew you could do it.”

I was still buzzing from the adrenaline, from the excitement of actually nailing it after all this time. I looked up at him, my breath a little shaky, my heart pounding. “I can’t believe it.”

He smiled, brushing a stray hair from my face. “Believe it. You’re incredible.”

Everything felt simple again, just me, the ice, and Matt. Nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the mistakes, just this moment of pure triumph.

“Wait, wait,” Matt said, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “You remember that time you taught me how to spin? Let me show you again.”

I laughed, stepping back to give him room as he attempted a clumsy spin. He twirled once, his arms outstretched, and I couldn’t help but laugh harder when he wobbled, barely keeping his balance. The look on his face was priceless. Full of pride, like he’d just nailed a perfect routine.

He straightened up, beaming. “See? I’ve still got it.”

Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me, a joy that I hadn’t felt in a long time. This is fun. I enjoy this. I enjoy his company. I enjoy him. Maybe I need to trust him. Maybe it’s time to let go of the past. Maybe this was the safest way to go. Maybe this is the way it was always meant to go.

I skated closer to him, my heart racing but not with fear this time. It was something else. Something that felt right. I stopped on the ice, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, it felt like everything clicked into place.

“I want this.” I said, my voice steady but soft, surprising even myself as the words came out.

Matt’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of hope and disbelief crossing his face. “You do?”

“Yes.” I said, the certainty in my voice growing. “I want this. I want us.”

Before I could say anything more, Matt closed the distance between us, his hands gently cradling my face as he leaned in. Our lips met, the kiss soft at first, but filled with all the emotions that had been building between us for so long.

It felt like everything I’d been holding in, every doubt, every fear, melted away in that kiss. All that was left was him. Us. And for the first time in a long time, my memory felt clear.

In the following weeks, Matt and I decided to relive everything but in a new way. It felt like starting over, but with all the memories, feelings, and experiences guiding us. Our first group outing after reconnecting was to Golf’N’Stuff. Mini-golfing, of course, since Matt had made it very clear that I was absolutely terrible at hitting a golf ball any other way. He never let me live down the disaster that was Topgolf, but this time, it was going to be different.

We arrived at the course, our usual group with us, Chris, Nick, Nate, and Madi. Funny enough, Madi turned out to be the girl who was with them at the beach that night, and now I felt so ridiculous for letting myself feel jealous. It was nice to rekindle my friendship with her too and I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought otherwise.

As we made our way around the course, everyone’s competitive sides came out, especially Chris and Nate, who turned it into some sort of showdown between the two of them. Madi and Nick were more laidback, laughing at the chaos and whispering to each other as they played. But Matt? He was glued to my side, teasing me every time I lined up a shot.

“Come on, Y/n” Matt smirked, watching me carefully aim. “Don’t mess this one up. The hole’s right there.”

I shot him a playful glare. “Watch and learn.”

To my own surprise, and everyone else's, I managed to get a hole in one. I threw my hands up in victory, letting out a cheer as Matt’s jaw dropped.

“Are you kidding me?” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re hustling us.”

“Oh, please” I grinned, nudging him with my elbow. “I’m just that good at mini golf.”

As the game went on, I kept surprising myself. Shot after shot, I was actually doing well. By the time we reached the last hole, it was obvious. I was going to win.

Matt leaned over, giving me a mocking look. “Alright, Y/n, if you win this.. I might have to accept defeat. But just know, you’ll never beat me at Topgolf.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Challenge accepted. Do you see these swings now? It’s called growth.”

I lined up my final shot, feeling a little pressure from everyone watching. But I took a deep breath, focused, and hit the ball just right. It rolled smoothly across the green and dropped into the hole.

“I win!” I cheered, jumping up and down with excitement. The group groaned playfully, but everyone was smiling.

Matt wrapped his arms around me, lifting me slightly off the ground. “Alright, you win this round, mini golf champion.”

The victory felt good, but what felt even better was how natural everything had become again. The laughter, the teasing, the warmth of being with the people I cared about. I wasn’t just rebuilding my relationship with Matt. I was reconnecting with all of them, creating new memories to replace the ones that were lost.

Our first solo date was to Santa Monica Pier, Pacific Park, to be exact. It felt close enough to Venice, where so much had happened between us, but it was still new territory. A fresh start. The moment we stepped onto the boardwalk, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. It wasn’t just about spending the evening together. It was about creating something new, something just for us.

The sun was setting, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as we made our way toward the rides. Matt had that familiar, easy grin on his face, and it was contagious. We grabbed some candy floss as we walked, his arm casually draped over my shoulder as he teased me about the way I was already eyeing the Ferris wheel.

"First ride?" he asked, pointing toward the towering wheel spinning in slow circles.

"Obviously, I have to ease you in first" I laughed, taking a bite of the cotton candy. "But after that, you’re going on the roller coaster with me."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you think I’m scared of the roller coaster?"

"I know you are" I teased. "But we’ll see if you can handle it."

We got in line for the Ferris wheel, and as soon as we were in the little gondola, the world seemed to slow down. The view of the ocean stretched endlessly in front of us, and for a few moments, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The sunset began casting orange and pink hues across the sky, and the calm of the water below was the perfect setting.

“This is nice” I said softly, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“It’s perfect” he replied, his arm tightening around me. “No distractions. Just us.”

When the ride ended, we headed straight for the next ride. Pacific Plunge, the sign read. Matt tried to act cool, but I could see the slight hesitation in his eyes. Still, he followed me into the line, determined not to back down.

As we sat in the car, I couldn’t help but grin. "Ready?"

"Always" he replied, though I could hear a hint of nerves in his voice.

The ride took off, and the thrill of the drops of the tower made me laugh uncontrollably. I glanced at Matt during the ride, and his expression was priceless. He was holding on for dear life, but there was a smile on his face too.

When we got off, he shook his head, laughing. “Alright, fine. You win this one.”

“Told you” I teased, bumping into him lightly. “But you handled it well.”

The rest of the evening was filled with more rides - the bumper cars, where Matt definitely gave me a run for my money, and the spinning swings, where we both got dizzy but couldn’t stop laughing. We played some carnival games, too, and Matt even won me a stuffed animal from the ring toss game, though I suspected the worker might’ve rigged it in his favor.

By the time we decided to leave, the lights of Pacific Park were twinkling against the night sky, and the pier was still bustling with energy. We walked along the boardwalk, hand in hand, the sounds of laughter and the distant hum of the carousel filling the air.

“This was a good day,” I said, smiling up at him.

“The best.” he replied, squeezing my hand gently. “We needed this.”

And he was right. It was exactly what we needed. A new experience, something just for us, without the weight of everything that had happened before. Just us, having fun, and building something real again.

And that brings us to the present day. Six months later and a five-and-a-half-hour flight to Boston. The city skyline faded behind us as we pulled up to Matt's family home, and his excitement was contagious.

“I can’t wait to introduce my mom and dad to my girlfriend.” Matt grinned, glancing over at me with that same boyish smile that never failed to make my heart flutter.

My mind jumped back to the memory of him asking me a few months ago. How I woke up one morning, to blueberry pancakes, cut up in to letters reading “Will U B my GF”. It was things like that that made me love Matt. The little things. He just got me.

As we stepped out of the car, I felt a mix of nerves and excitement. Meeting his family was a big step, but the way he held my hand tightly in his reassured me. We walked up the pathway, and before we even reached the door, it swung open to reveal his parents, Mary-Lou and Jimmy, both smiling warmly, arms outstretched to welcome us.

“You must be Y/n!” Mary-Lou said as she embraced me, her warmth immediately putting me at ease. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

"It’s so nice to meet you too!" I smiled, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease. Jimmy gave me a friendly handshake, then pulled me into a hug.

Over the course of the afternoon, we had endless conversations, swapping stories and laughs. It felt natural, like I’d known them for years. At some point, Mary-Lou turned to me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“I heard you’ve qualified for the Olympics?” she asked with a proud smile.

“Yeah I can’t believe it!” I replied, glancing over at Matt with a smile. “I have Matt to thank for pushing me to get back into it.”

“That’s amazing! Getting to be a part of the Olympics in your hometown!” Mary-Lou beamed, and Jimmy nodded in approval.

The moment felt surreal. A far cry from where I was just a few months ago, lost and unsure. But here I was, not only finding my way back to skating but also standing beside someone who believed in me, maybe even more than I believed in myself.

Later that evening, after dinner and more stories shared around the table, Matt and I stepped outside onto the porch, the cool Boston air wrapping around us. The stars were out, scattered across the night sky, and everything felt peaceful. He stood next to me, his arm slipping around my waist as we looked out at the view.

“You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been.” Matt said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. To be here with you now.”

I looked up at him, my heart swelling. "I think I'm the lucky one" I whispered. “You gave me a reason to believe in myself again.”

He turned to face me fully, his eyes locking onto mine with that familiar intensity. “We did this together.” he said softly. “I’m just so glad I get to share all of it with you.”

And then, under the stars and in the quiet of the night, he kissed me slowly, tenderly, like we had all the time in the world. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise. A promise of everything we had built, everything we were, and everything that was still to come.

“I love you” I whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

“I love you too” he replied, his eyes shining with so much emotion it nearly took my breath away.

And in that moment, I knew - this was exactly how things were meant to be.

NEW CHRIS SERIES HERE

a/n : and just like that, we're finished :( my first ever fic. thank you so so so sooooo much to every single person that has supported this and given it so much love over the last 2 months. this fic and everyone reading it helped me through a breakup of a 10 year relationship and i’ll always be grateful. it was so fun to write and im so sad its an end of an era. I now have a general taglist here if anyone would like to be on it just interact with the post. thank you so much again for everything <3 a new chris series is coming soon!

Snowy <3

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel l @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @lvrsturniolo @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo @freshythefishy @witchofthehour @stvrnlover @alizestvrnss @beachbabe000 @pinkdyit @pvssychicken @starkeyszn @matts-girlfriend

[taegularities]

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep. 

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear. 

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion. 

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work. 

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching. 

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don��t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh… 

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you. 

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too. 

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks. 

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting. 

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

[hiddenreamers]

Telegraph Road 1977 & 2024 - Lando Norris

SUMMARY: For Lando, the words "first love" just make him think of his childhood neighbour. Then, his heart breaks a little when he remembers she's somewhere in San Francisco. How surprised he is when it turns out you're much closer - in an apartment across the hall. Lando couldn't be more grateful for the strange mysteries that led you to this doorway.

WC: 983

Everybody has those moments when they are suddenly reminded of someone they knew long ago. Old classmates, kids from summer camp, playground friends – people who once were part of your daily life but now you think about them maybe once a year if not less often. Those silent questions of “I wonder what happened to them?” come and go just as quickly, like a golden brown leaf carried by the wild, autumn wind.

Lando is something of an exception to that rule. The thoughts of his old neighbour never quite leave him, as though his autumn is more of a perpetuity than a season. Despite the passage of time, that curious quirk of his stuck. However, the why has changed. While still a child, he’d ponder the memories of you simply out of longing. It is only natural when one’s closest companion is gone one day. Then, as his young heart began revolving around crushes, dates and girlfriends, Lando suffered an epiphany. Finally, he understands! It was as if on some random Tuesday lightning had struck him – it was love he felt for you, not just friendship. And what a tale of one’s first love it told! “We were inseparable, soulmates, if you will, when one day she moved away and I never heard from her again.” Truly, a drama worth a thousand novels.

Little does he know, that those strange mysteries that separate lovers, sometimes lead them to each other’s doorways…

Lando is closing his front door, when the sound of paws tapping the floor grabs his attention. Without much thought, he looks down the corridor.

The tapping belongs to a rather happy-looking Scottish setter. He recognizes the breed only because he’s spent his childhood running around a small British town with you and two of those dogs. Despite the lingering memories of the past, Lando doesn’t mind the pet any longer, again focusing on his own things. Then, a strangely familiar voice distracts him again:

“Come on, Axel! We’ll have plenty of time to make friends later.”

Almost giving himself whiplash, Lando looks for the source of the sound. Could it be…?

You’re a little surprised when you hear someone calling out your name in a questioning manner. As far as you know, none of your friends live in Monaco. So how come someone here knows you? Fixing your grip on the box labelled Kitchen, you take a look around the corridor.

For a moment, you think you’re just seeing things. But you’ve stared at that face for so long, you could recognize him in the darkest, most inexplicable fever dream; the face that you’ve associated with home for your whole life.

“Oh my God, Lando Norris!” you exclaim between chuckles. “I can’t believe it!”

His cheeks redden a little. “You remember me?” The question has a distinct tone of surprise.

“Of course I do! You were my best friend,” you say. “Well, the only friend for a few years,” you add, your voice noticeably quieter than before.

“What are you doing here? I thought your family moved to San Francisco.”

It is only then that Lando truly sees who you’ve become throughout all those years away. Perhaps you are more beautiful than he could imagine but you’re also much sadder. There’s a wistful look in your eye, a tell-tale sign of maturity that is only born out of tears. He can only wonder what pains have brought you back to him.

“At first, it was San Francisco, then New York, Chicago, L.A… I never fit in anywhere. They’re all very lonely cities, you know?” Just for a second, your eyes become glossy. His heart feels a painful sting that only gets worse as you force a wide smile on your face. You’ve had practice in faking happiness, haven’t you? “But enough about me, it’s not that interesting,” you say in a casual tone. “Congratulations on your driving career. Seriously, you’re amazing. Would it be creepy if I admitted now that I’ve watched every single one of your races?”

“Not as creepy as admitting I’ve stalked your social media and never followed you because I thought you don’t remember me.”

“Are you dead serious right now?” Lando’s sheepish smile earns a loud laugh from you. “You should have tried anyway!”

“Funny that you’re the one to say that,” he retorts. “Why didn’t you message me if you’re such a big fan?”

Flustered, you look away for a moment. “Honestly, I thought it would be weird,” you confess. “I was sure you’d forgotten all about me and pulling this ‘we were childhood friends’ schtick now that you’re famous would be so embarrassing. You’re this top-of-the-top racing driver and I’m, well, me.” A bitter chuckle comes after your words but the faux amusement isn’t enough to fool Lando.

“You’re staying for long in Monaco?” His question is accompanied by a light gesture towards the box in your arms.

“As long as they don’t fire me, I guess.” That strange, sad laughter again. “Listen, you look like you have somewhere to be and I’ve already taken up too much of your time. You could come by in the evening, catch up if you want?” Your tone rises, revealing uncertainty about whether the invitation is welcome.

But to him, the answer is obvious. “I’d love that.”

You give him one last smile, then disappear behind the door to your apartment.

In some sense, he has you back. Not the girl he remembers, no. Something innate seems to be gone from your soul but Lando lacks the words to name the change. The sights, the loves, the pains – whatever it was that took your life on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, it sprouted melancholy in the very marrows of your bones.

“What happened to you?” he whispers to himself.

The only answer that comes is muffled footsteps and the shuffling of cardboard boxes.

Check out other fics in the Ampersand Themed Works

[subfootboii]

[Part 1]

You started a new job where you met Tyler, a hot tall guy with at least size 13 feet. He was so charismatic and confident you had a big crush on him. Since you both worked in the team you always saw him and had conversations with him.

One day you told him that you think he is good looking and if he would be interested to go oit on a date with you. He smirked and rolled his eyes without giving any answer. You thought he might be straight or not looking for a relationship.

The next day he kept staring at you and smiling for most of the day. At some point you were both alone in your office.

"So about that date you invited me on yesterday, would you be interested if you came back with me home tomorrow. It's Friday and you can come spend the weekend if you want."

"Ohh. I thought you weren't interested in me or something. I would love to spend some time with you so yeah sure."

Again he smirked and gaved you a pat on the back without saying anything else. You were so excited by hus invite, after work you rushed home to prepare yourself. You shaved and moisturized your body so that you are ready for this hot weekend.

On Friday Tyler didn't speak much to you. After work you followed to his car. The drive was silent and he was smiling the whole time. You thought he was nervous and didn't want to make uncomfortable.

You arrived at his place and get out of the car. You were carrying your luggage and he opened the door.

"Honey, I'm home."

You were completely shocked by what you just heard. Seconds later a man was hugging and kissing Tyler while you stood there watching not understanding what was happening in front of you. After that Tyler looked at you smiling.

"Babe, that's my coworker... the one that asked me out. He will join us for the weekend as we agreed."

"Ohh let me introduce myself to our guest, didn't even see him there. Hey I'm Axle, Tyler's husband. Nice to meet you... I forgot your name... doesn't matter keep your luggage here, you won't need them."

You couldn't respond. Tyler is married to a gorgeous man. All you could see in front of you was an alpha couple, two powerful sexy men together. What you didn't understand was how you fit in this situation, what was your role, why where you here.

"Hey. Nice to meet Axle. Didn't know Tyler was married, but you too seem perfect together."

"We sure do, and that's why you are here. We are missing something... or should I say someone."

Axel and Tyler went back to kissing passionately. Your dick was starting to get hard from seeing them clearly in love. But you didn't understand what do they mean and what are you here for.

They started walking to the living room and Tyler signaled for you to follow them. You followed them as they mad their way inside and sat on the couch. You approached them when Axel gave you a sharp look.

"Floor. You sit on the floor."

"What do you mean? Why would I sit on the floor?"

"Because I said so. What do you think you are here for boy? Tyler told me you are a bit slow so I guess I'll spell it out. You are a loser beta. Tyler amd I are a successful alpha couple. You are here to worship and serve us. You are here to be owned by us. So you have less than a minute to sit on the floor or see your way out."

Listening to that made you rock hard. You didn't think about what he said as you were so horny and since you needs to hide your boner you sat on yhe ground trying your best to hide it.

"I told it would be easy to have them at our feet babe. We should have done that sooner."

"I agree. Look at him trying to hide that dicklet from us. How should we deal with that?"

"If he want to have the present I bought him today he needs to get rid of it. Maybe he'll jerk it off while he watch us make out."

"Hear that boy? Don't make my man wait."

You mindlessly took your dick out and started to stroke it watching them making out. They were completely ignoring you while they confess their love to each other and kiss. They were perfect. They were everything you never had. You jerked while you fantasized about being used by them.

Then you came all over the floor as they continued to make out and cuddle. You stayed there without moving or making a sound. At some point they finally acknowledged your existence again.

"That was fast boy. Didn't expect you to last any longer though. Now lick your cum off our floor and get naked."

You followed through without any second thoughts. Both of them together where so powerful for you to even think about resisting. After you got naked Axle pulled something from the drawer next to him and throw it your way. You held it amd discovered ot was a chastity cage. Again without thinking much you put it on.

"Pathetic. I've never seen anyone with such eagerness to be nothing. A cuck. A loser cuck. That's what you are."

"Cuck pet? Fits better."

"Yeah babe. You are our cuck pet boy. Bow. Bow and submit to us."

Before Axle finished his sentence you were bowing before them. You heard them laughing followed by some whispers amd kisses. You didn't dare to got up and you stayed like bowing for a long time.

"Up cuck pet."

You got up to see them both shirtless. Their ripped alpha bodies were perfect. But it wasn't just that as they were both resting their bare feet on the coffee table.

You already knew that Alex had big feet but they were even bigger than you thought. His toes were long and sexy and his sole was meaty. Axle on the other hand had a smaller foot. His toes were symmetric and his sole looked soft and meaty.

You were in heaven. Your dick was straining against your new cage and leaking already. You were before two alpha men and you couldn't wait to start worshipping them.

(Story suggestion by: @tidodore2)

[sozoglam]

some details about my mcsm fangame !! :

☆ the game engine used to make it will be GAMEMAKER (some other games made using this engine are undertale, deltarune, hotline miami, and more)

☆ the game will be 2d, however it will be made with 3d mineimator renders (if you need an example of what i mean, think of fnaf)

☆ you will play as jesse, but you only have 3 choices: male jesse, female jesse, or an enby/nonbinary jesse which i will model myself (the jesse variants will be the green suspenders / red (?) hair clip ones). your gender will not change the date-able options or the story!

☆ the date-able characters will be lukas, petra, olivia, and axel

☆ depending on which route you choose, there will be fights with other characters! the fighting style would be most like omori i think

☆ there will be TONS of easter eggs, such as ocs, secret items, and even a secret date-able

☆ voice actors will not be hired. the dialogue would appear in a text box, along with undertale-like dialogue sounds taken from their official va's voice

☆ i am doing this entire project by myself at the moment. this includes creating the renders, modeling background characters, modeling BACKGROUNDS, making music, programming, etc. please know that this will NOT come out anytime soon, and being rushed isnt my vibe. im still thinking how i could get volunteers to help, but im kinda braindead atm. if you guys have any ideas lemme know! :)

PLEASE REPOST IF YOU CAN! it would help share this with the fandom and itll mean a lot to me!!!!

[sixeyescurseuser]

Thinking about figure skater Gojo who tirelessly trains to qualify and compete at the next Olympic Games.

Gojo is such a legend in the skating world, very well known for his jaw-dropping, difficult performances, handsome looks, and charming personality! He was built for the spotlight.

Naturally, he has many global fans, fan accounts, and ordinary people who follow his career.

People who meet Gojo in-person after having only seen him on tv are shocked at how tall he is, yet manages to skate so well. All those triple and quad axels? And the amount of grace and power he skates with is insane considering his build. 

Once, an interviewer asks Gojo what other skaters he admires? Gojo talks about a few current big names, then sneaks in a mention of, “Oh, Suguru is also in my list , hehe.”

The interviewer chuckles alongside him, yet can’t help but ask, “Suguru…who?”

Later, Geto Suguru nearly spits out his water while watching the interview posted on Youtube. He doesn’t hesitate to text his boyfriend.

Geto: “Why do you keep bringing me up? I literally just skated in high school 😭”

Gojo sends back an old video of Geto’s skating routine from a regional competition: ❤️❤️

Geto: “WHY DO YOU STILL HAVE THIS?”

Gojo: “heyyy >:(“

Gojo: “It makes me happy 🥰 I loved watching you”

***

Growing up, Gojo and Geto skated at the same club.  But while Gojo continued skating as his professional career after, Geto dropped skating in order to focus on his academics in college.

Gojo often reminisces on the long practices they had where they would watch each other run through their routines and give each other feedback, when they would mess around and throw the craziest combinations just for shits and giggles.

He didn’t realize their time together on the rink would be so short in the long run, but they began dating when they were only sixteen, and have been going strong together since.

Gojo is still lucky to have Suguru to come home to after his long days at the rink.  

After college, Geto went on to become a marine biologist, where he does a lot of work in ocean wildlife conservation. He’s either on a boat collecting data for research or in the lab analyzing his sample results. 

Gojo is not only busy training in Japan, but he also frequently travels to train in different countries. Gojo receives lots of updates from Suguru in the form of selfies and blurry photos with ocean wildlife or results from the lab.

Suguru in the lab with his ppe (personal protection equipment). Suguru wearing his wet suit while investigating algae farms. Suguru smiling while holding a crab.  

Gojo makes the last one his lock screen. Suguru just looks so cute with his hair pulled back, and when Gojo holds his finger down on the live photo, he can hear Suguru’s voice talking in baby to the crab.

(Geto’s wallpaper is a selfie of them when they were teens.)

Geto gets super excited telling Gojo about his new findings, taking the time to explain different facts and technical terms. Gojo eagerly nods along on the phone and asks questions, commenting, “No way! The algae increased nearly double the amount with your XXX solution? That’s amazing!”

***

Gojo loves what he does, but it’s always a relief to come back home and find his comfort place in Suguru’s arms. 

Nothing beats taking a shower and raiding Suguru’s closet after, cooking dinner with his boyfriend, and then cuddles on the couch.

The first thing they see when they turn on the tv is a sports reporter announcing Gojo Satoru's third national championship title, and what it means for the road to the Olympics.

“Oh wow, this guy is on a roll. He should train for the Olympics or something,” Geto says.

Gojo simply buries face in Suguru’s neck and snickers: “Or something.”

***

Once, while getting ready to sleep one night, Gojo whispers in Geto’s: “Remember that one time you ripped your pants during the Junior Grand Prix?”

Geto doesn’t react at first.

Then, without warning, he tries to smother his boyfriend with his pillow.

***

One of the best memories is when Geto surprised Gojo by showing up in-person to one of the abroad competitions. 

In the middle of his post-win interview, still in his competition suit, makeup dewey and hair fluffy, Gojo suddenly spots a familiar face behind one of the paparazzi. 

Gojo is literally mid-answer when he locks in and SPRINTS to get his boyfriend in his arms.

“Suguru!!” Gojo shouts. He’s already leaping and oh, Suguru’s arms readily catch him. 

Geto laughs with his whole chest, squeezing tightly around Gojo’s middle.

“Hello, darling.”

Gojo has to finish the interview but he’s so bubbly now because teehee Suguru is right there and watching proudly. 

Gojo needs him in his bed immediately.

After the interview, Geto explains he got his lab assistants to cover their project for the next week so he could fly out and visit Gojo in Australia!

Gojo happily drags Geto back to his hotel room,  giggling and babbling about the plans they could have for the next week. The couple excitedly discuss outings to art and performance events, to the beach, even the zoo - which Geto is ecstatic for. 

Upon entering the hotel room, Geto quickly drops his luggage off in the corner. Gojo is still yapping when Geto suddenly walks him backwards to the bed. 

The back of Gojo’s knees hit the edge and he falls back with an “oof!”

Geto smoothly crawls on top to lay his whole body weight on his boyfriend’s. 

Gojo chuckles. He combs through Suguru’s hair and continues his talking, knowing Suguru is tired from traveling and this will help them both relax.

Gojo gradually runs out of things to say, and the soft breaths against his neck tell him yep, he unfortunately needs to poke his boyfriend awake so they can both shower and freshen up before bed.

Gojo pats Geto’s lower back. “Suguru, wakey wakey.”

No response.

Pat pat on the lower back again, then smoothing his hands up to pat the upper-back.

“Babyyy, wake up. We need to shower. And eat.”

Geto offers a protesting grunt, then nuzzles against Gojo’s neck.

This leaves Gojo no choice.

He sneaks a hand down to pinch Geto’s ass.

“Ouch- hey what the fuck?”

Gojo yelps when he feels Suguru pinch his nipple in retaliation, then rolls off Gojo’s body to head toward the bathroom.

Five minutes later, the couple shower together while casually recapping the results of the skating event.

“Any feedback for me today?” Gojo asks. Geto hums, more focused on massaging the shampoo into Gojo’s hair. He applies the perfect amount of pressure that makes Gojo moan in appreciation.

“The only feedback I have is that you look amazing out there, Satoru. All the hard work you put into training clearly pays off. I am so so proud of you,” Geto says, dropping a kiss to Gojo’s nape.

Gojo preens, and completely surrenders himself to his boyfriend's tender touches.

[lowkeyrobin]

Heyy :) Can you please write headcanons of dating quackity, but in his earlier eras? (like 2019-21 maybe) ❤

ooooo yes of course!!! ; fun fact I've been watching him since 2018 or so (I don't mean this in a "Oh I'm cooler than you way) ; thank you for the request!! this was fun as hell ; I tried to kinda do it in a chronological order but yeah, I did like stuff and then more details of relationship if that makes sense yk???

QUACKITY ; 2019-2021 era

warnings ; language, talk of drugs, jokes about sex

genre ; fluff

word count ; 858

masterlist

Raiding Club Penguin with him and Axel was a core memory for you. It was the first true time, however cringe it sounds, that you saw Alex as your best friend.

he'd always try to make you laugh, especially on stream

such a little tease

back in the olden days, we had those Discord server 'wtf is that food' videos

you guys rank some of them and how likely you'd eat them

also ranking Discord memes

so many of them were dumb shit or weird shipart from like 2015 deviantart LMFAO

"guys I know me and y/n are dating but that doesn't mean compare us to Shrek couples!"

"I thought Thanos was your true love?"

"He-He is! Oh my God, stop being so desperate, y/n. ugh"

once he got invited to the Dream SMP, you were all ears and proudly taught him how to play Minecraft

you made his alt skin with the tuxedo, which he didn't wear often, but used in lore some time later

youd often help him with lore ideas

he also got you invited into the SMP where he introduced you to some of his new friends

you knew schlatt and some others, but most of these people were new and it was nice meeting all of them

the fiances are established and then you and quackity are already a think and you also like karl, which creates a weird love rectangle with an open end because you and sapnap are sharing the other two 💀

lore goes fuckin crazy with that

while Karl's off making Kinoko Kingdom and Quackity's running Las Nevadas, you're building El Tropicana, off in the far away jungle biome

Alex would usually stream and translate Mexican soap operas, which you joined in for sometimes

you'd give the characters different voices and twist their words up a bit to make it more entertaining for chat

the amount of drug talk that went into that was wild

also the amount of queer kids bullied in those schools?? yikes on bikes

also the one with that girl who got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground or whatever that was?? Jesus christ man

youd both act put the scenes on occasion and use Tiger as whatever kid was being yelled at if she was in the room with you

taking a break halfway through stream for him to play guitar and for you to karaoke to fuckin Bo Burnham

also making fake joints out of paper he had laying around and "lighting them up" aka setting paper on fire next to a PC and your faces

Jackbox streams with the Feral Boys until 3am>>>

Paranormal Activity in the middle of the night went so fucking crazy

teaching Bad how to play GTA is your favorite memory with those two

playing horror games and watching him play horror games with Karl while he visited him

how dare he leave you all alone (you couldn't go because you had a busy schedule)

your chats shipping the hell out of you and your dsmp characters

hella fanart and fanfictions man

try not to laugh streams where you always ended up laughing before the ten minute mark because of him

he purposefully does shit to make you laugh

reading fanfiction on stream was a regular activity especially for y/s/n

youd rank the book on a scale from one to ten and how accurate to real life they were

"nahhhh that one doesn't have enough Thanos, two out of ten"

"yknow what... were gonna have our own tier lists... okay?"

"damnit... does this mean I'm not getting laid later?"

"what"

promoting the quackityhq merch religiously

also stealing whichever beanie he wasn't wearing, either the LAFD one or the plain black and blue one

him tying you to a chair and forcing you to laugh was a common stream plot

tweets that were either very inconspicuous about drugs, very sexual, or very old married couple vibes

youd both be frequently trending on twitter

hot wings or dare streams with Bad >>>>

playing girls go games and hoping you wouldn't give his PC a virus

sitting in the inflatable pool fully clothed, playing with children's bath toys

he'd for sure be the type to fall for his best friend

whether it be all the way back then or just now, he could go forever without feeling any feelings but one day they'll show up and the nervousness begins

he'd lend you a hoodie if you were cold in his room and he just straight up begs you to keep it

lots of just staring at you while chat ships you, like genuinley just zones out on your pretty face

would probably doubt his feelings at first and talk to his mom about it and she's like "boy you have a crush. Go ask them the hell out, you're a handsome young man, I'm pretty sure they like you too"

"mOooOooOoOoM"

genuinley spoils you with no good reason and after a while you just accept it

he starts sending good morning and good night texts

he'll repost (or reblog) (he has a secret tumblr) fanart of you two, especially if it's shipart

will constantly send you clips of movie characters making out or kissing and say "this should be us"

[whoisneo404]

HockeyPlayer!Nick x FigureIceSkater!reader

• The two of you met by accident. He had a match in the ring next to yours, when he entered, he didn’t notice the whole place was empty until he heard a sharp blade hit against the ice, and when he looked up from his phone, in the ice were you jumping and spinning around. He was dumbfounded, never has he seen a guy look this graceful on ice, it was always pushes and shoves when he was on the ice.

• When you finish your program you pose on the middle of the ring, when you hear a ‘Wow…’. Nick who was still standing there admiring you got a bit shy of his natural reaction. Then, to make the situation more awkward he added. “So… this is not the jockey ring, right?” you laughed, and pointed the direction to him, and when he was about to leave, he complimented your performance and shyly asked if you trained there usually.

• From there, your relationship bloomed, you told him about your competition next weekend expecting nothing of it, but he actually went, and cheered and clapped harder than anyone. No shame at all.

• Your flirting consisted in mocking each other for their sports. What do you mean you can score a point but not do a double axel? Or, what do you mean you can spin on ice but can’t hit the puck?

• Lots of dates around skating. Him teaching you how to play hockey and you teaching him to do simple movements to do in pairs.

• You always go to his matches and wear his spare jersey (he loves that, he goes crazy when he sees his name on your back) to cheer him up. You become good friends with the rest of the team (specially his brothers).

• He always goes to your tournaments (no matter if they are on different states) and always arrives with a bouquet of flowers or a box of your favorite sweets (sometimes both).

• He loves to tie the laces of your skies.

• He loves to put his helmet on you because it fits a bit big and he thinks its cute.

• He will make you watch the matches of his favorite team and you eventually learn a few names and recognize a few faces.

• You make him watch the performances of your favorite figure skaters (mine if Yuzuru Hanyu btw, just wanted to say that lol) and he eventually learns the name of a few movements. He still doesn’t get how they (and you) spin so many times in the air.

• He loves to help you choose your outfits for the tournaments; he is very good at it.

• If he loses a match, he is very upset and needs lots of cuddles and kisses. Every time his coach is rude to him, he will bury his face in your neck and mumble about how they don’t appreciate him.

• He loves when you cheer for him and take photos of him. He won’t say it, but he melts when you show him off.

• When he gets injures, he is very stubborn but listens to you when you tell him he needs to rest. On the other hand, you still want to skate even when injured. So, he literally has to restrain you in bed so you can recover, he will lay on top of you (being careful to not squeeze the injured part of your body) so you can’t get up.

• Is very sassy and annoyed when the judges are biased or didn’t score to his liking (he think you should win every single competition you enter). Surprisingly is good friends with your coach (Nick bough them cookies and now they are besties).

• Once he bought two new pair of skates (one for him and one for you) and exchanged the laces from one of them, now you have a skate with white laces and he has one with black ones. He says that is to carry each other every time you step on the ice (which is when the both of you train and give your best). “It’s my lucky charm… and my mantra, when I see it, it reminds me that I can’t punch the other players in the face because you don’t like violence.”

Taglist: @freshloveforthefit @shywolfapricotfan @sturnphilia @matty-bear @thenickgirl @stvrniolvsp @paige05 @soursturniolo @miloisdone1 @teenagetrash00 @lovely-calypso @h3arts4harry @malirosee

[blackdollette]

hi girly :33 I was wantin to request some euro x reader, where readers dating HELLHAMMER and is cheating on her, and euro knows (also likes you) so he gives you what he knows u deserve (smut please?) he’s super sweet to you too n shit, thank u!!

yes ma'am! this is so so delicious I cant 😫 

"you're fucking up big time." | euronymous

a&w. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp @auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart

female!reader x jan axel (hellhammer) x euronymous *not threesome*

word count: 2.0k

contents: cheating, public sex, unprotected sex, missionary

“best friends forever” meant a lot of things. sharing beers at the bar after a good show, laughing at stupid jokes to cover up how much life was getting to you, or shutting up when he sees your boyfriend sneaking off in the middle of the night with the girl he told you not to worry about.

euronymous had been keeping a watchful eye on your relationship like a hawk since day one. though he’d never say it to your face, he hated how easy to get you were. how you’d fallen for hellhammer after his half-assed confession to you. the way you put your best leg forward in the relationship while he gave you absolutely nothing. but most of all, he hated how badly he wished to take the place of your boyfriend. but it was far too late. so now, all euronymous could do was watch the shitshow happen from afar, waiting for a chance to finally be with you.

you had never liked euronymous. whether it was because of the fear he instilled in your heart or his icy gaze that could kill any attraction you had for anyone else, you didnt know. so you kept a good distance between you and him. but no matter what you were doing with hellhammer, he always managed to make an appearance. mindlessly walking into the room while hellhammer fucked your brains out, or catching a brief glimpse of his toned build as he walked around shirtless in the den. he was relentless. 

right now, you were sitting on the raggedy couch backstage, flicking cigarette ashes off as you listened to their rehearsal. that was one of the perks of dating a band member: you always got to hang out backstage. but you couldn’t admit that it didn’t mean anything if your boyfriend never even looked your way. you watched him from afar. he was checking himself out in the mirror, spraying on expensive cologne that he’d never bothered to wear when he was with you.

the thought itched at the back of your mind that he was hiding someone from you, but you didn’t allow yourself to think that way. stuck in a web of your thoughts, your head snaps up, unintentionally meeting euronymous’ gaze. you can’t read his expression, but there are traces of desire, pity, and longing in his eyes, you feel your cheeks heating up as you locked eyes for a moment. you shot him a cold glare, causing him to sheepishly look back at the sheet music in front of him. if you didn’t know better, you’d think he actually knew what was going through your head.

he watched the way you were slumped on the couch as he mindlessly strummed the heavy chords on his guitar. the more miserable you were, the more he felt the need to reach out to you. he had been staring at you for longer than he intented to, and when you looked at him he’d even tried to muster a little smile. your reaction shut him down immediately, reminding him that the romance between you two would only remain inside his mind.

showtime managed to arrive faster than you anticipated. the bandmates began to make their way onto the stage, but hellhammer approached you with a cocky smirk spread across his face. “hold this for me, wouldya?” he tossed his leather jacket at you, it nearly scratching you. he walked off, holding a drumstick in each hand as you drowned in his unfamiliar scent.

euronymous was still standing a couple feet away, but his eyes were on you, slightly wide. you were about to scold him for keeping his eyes on you for too long, but your gaze followed his, finally landing on what he was seeing. right on the jacket’s collar laid a bright red lipstick stain in the exact colour that you never wore because he had said it looked hideous on you. then a latex condom wrapper slipped out of the pocket, landing right at your feet. judging your nonexistent sex life with hellhammer, there has never been a situation when you’ve needed one of those.

everything fell into place horrifically fast and before you knew it, you were on your knees, bawling as heavy sobs shook your body. you’d be lying if you said you’d never suspected it, but the reality of the situation was enough to throw your entire world off balance. you buried your face in your hands, wanting nothing more but to disappear. a gentle, calloused hand touched your shoulder, making you shiver. 

you looked up, black mascara running down your cheeks as you met euronymous’ gaze once more. his expression was blank, but his eyes told you that he’d seen this coming from a mile away. you coughed into your arm, your voice coming out as a croak. “y-you knew about this..?” his arm was now draped across your back, rubbing slow circles onto your soft skin. he sighed deeply. “i should’ve told you, i know. he never loved you. he’s been cheating the entire time.” his voice was extremely soft, but it felt like he’d just hit you with a brick.

you hid your face again, being hit by another wave of sobs. he cautiously pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest. “i’m sorry…” his tenderness brought you a familiar sense of comfort. the same kind you felt after hellhammer had told you he loved you. hot tears streamed down your face. “why do you even care?! i swear, all of you guys are the same. heartless and cold and bitter.” you pushed yourself away from you, standing up and sitting down on the couch, wiping your tears and smearing the black mess on your face in the process.

he joined you on the couch, approaching you as if you were a bomb about to explode. the tears had dried from your face, but you felt as fragile as ever. you could hear music starting to play on stage, signalling the start of the concert. and instead of him being up there, he was here with you, trying to mend your shattered heart. 

a few minutes of silence had passed. you stared blankly ahead, trying to figure out how your life had gotten to this point. you looked a complete mess. your hair was scruffy, your makeup was ruined, nd your clothes were being held together by a string, leaving you completely vulnerable. euronymous sighed deeply before speaking. “jan is my best friend, but he doesn’t know when he has a good woman right in front of him.” 

you looked into his eyes deeply for the first time, seeing how he looked at you as if you were as precious as a diamond but as delicate as a snowflake. you look down. “h-how do you know im a good woman..?”euronymous didn’t even have to think about the answer to this question. he saw how loyal you were, how much time and energy you dedicated into your relationship, and your heart of gold underneath everything that you had been through. in his eyes, you were truly perfection. 

his answer was silent, but you knew exactly what he was thinking. it was only now that you realized you were squeezing his hand, digging your nails into his pale flesh. “o-oh..! i’m sor-” you tried to pull your hand away, but were cut off when he brought his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. you gasped softly into the kiss, feeling a shiver travel down your spine as his lips locked into yours so effortlessly.

your hands found his long black strands of hair, your fingers tangling themselves into it as he tongue began to explore your mouth. you began to melt as his hands wandered underneath your shirts, instantly getting access to your breasts. your nipples were brushed to stiff peaks as he massaged them with his thumbs. 

you laid back on the couch, not letting your lips disconnect for even a second. your legs were wrapped around his waist as he reached a hand down to hastily remove his belt, tossing it to the side. he kicked off his dark jeans and boxers, moving on to strip you of your clothing. you two didnt stop until you were both nude, your swollen lips finally leaving his. you panted, desperately trying to catch your breath as you started at his body.

it was good-looking from a distance, but it was a masterpiece when you were this close to it. his biceps flexed slightly as he propped himself above you, grinding his hard cock against your dripping cunt. you adjusted yourself slightly so that his tip with lined up with your entrance. before sliding in, he brought his lips to your ear, brushing the lobe slightly. “i finally get to treat you the way you deserve to be, baby…”

he pushed himself into you, groaning at the tightness of your walls. your eyes slammed shut as you scream, wrapping your arms and legs around him as you held onto him for dear life. he started fucking you slowly, making sure to watch your facial expressions to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you. as soon as your pain turned into pleasure, he could finally get started.

he pounded into you at a vigorous pace, causing the ground and everything around you to shake. when it came to his cock, big was an understatement. it was nine and a half inches of heaven that was sliding in and out of you. “y-you feel so good, darling…” he whispered sweet little things into your ear that made you melt underneath him.

he made no effort to try and hide his noises. “jan never fucked you like this, huh..? h-he never wanted you as bad as i did…” he admitted to admiring you from a far the whole duration of your relationship. everything he told you only increased your desire to cum all over his cock and claim him as your own.

you started to cry out as his balls slapped against your asshole, his long and firm fingers rubbing euphoric patterns onto your puffy clit. “f-fuck, euro..! r-right there…” you had never called him by his nickname before, and it turned him on so much to finally have you warm up to him. he sped up his pace until he was panting like a starved dog, desperate to bring you all the pleasure that you’d been deprived. 

“a-ah! i-i’m gonna cum-” you screamed as you began to gush all over his length, saturating the couch underneath you with your sweet liquids. your cunt tightened around him, filling him with ecstasy. with a few more lazy thrusts, he pulled out, pumping his cum all over your thighs and stomach, painting you like a perfect picture. your chest heaved up and down as you reeled over your orgasm. you could still feel cum dripping from your tight hole.

time turned elastic as you laid there naked with him on top of you, hearts beating in synch. then, the music outside stopped, followed by a loud round of applause. you and euronymous jumped up, hastily putting your clothes back on before heading to the door. he grabbed your shoulders, stopping you. “wait. there’s one last thing that i think we should do first…” you raised an eyebrow, but you quickly caught his drift. 

the band members came back in, hyped up about a good concert. but neither you or euronymous were in there. all that remained was hellhammer’s leather jacket, slashed in half and lying on top of the sticky mess that you had made with his best friend.

author's note: this request was too much fun to write. i fear I'm becoming obsessed with euro again 🤭

[unitcreo]

I am happy to announce the impending release of the animatic webseries Unit: Creo! 

The premise: Roughly 220 years in the future, a nuclear explosion has wiped out most of earth’s life. What’s left of the population fights tooth and nail over the dwindling resources. Mina, the lead character, had been kidnapped by Wesley, the main antagonist, 2 years prior to the events of the series. She has no memories of what he did to her or how she escaped, but it left her with strange powers. In the first episode, a stressful event causes her to teleport herself, a friend, an acquaintance, and her brother to an alien planet called Seguro. The race living there all have similar powers to herself, and the series entails her trying to save the earth, her piecing together her past, finding out what Wesley’s end goal really is, and how the aliens (called umbroids) tie into all this. She’s assisted by Wesley’s rebellious robot assistant, Creo, who may not be all she seems.

The voice cast is as follows (they are all credited by the names and socials they requested):

Mina- Lushen Lu (https://m.youtube.com/@Lushen_Lu)

Fox- SD Jack

Dusty- Grimbo X

Terra, Elyze, and (spoiler character)- me

Nyx- Wyatt Barlow

Despereaux and (spoiler character)- Zac Kowal

Axel- Kevin (https://www.instagram.com/lauch_van_blyat/profilecard/?igsh=MTA1NDF1Z3J5cW5naQ==)

Wesley- HexTouchstarved

Magnus- Archer

Stella- -Triocat- (http://www.youtube.com/@-Triocat-) (https://www.tumblr.com/triocat)

Serenity and (spoiler character)- Darcy Jay

Vesper- StarryNightSky 

Creo- Radio (https://www.tumblr.com/rad10active-ketchup)

Pearl- anonymous

(Spoiler character)- Diorysus

(Spoiler character)- BuoyantToaster (https://bsky.app/profile/buoyanttoaster.bsky.social)

Jiro and (two spoiler characters)- ArcadianSolitude (💕💕💕)

(Spoiler character)- CyberChronicle

I estimate the show’s release date to be anywhere from mid 2025 to early 2026. I have no idea how long it’ll take for me to make each episode, but I’m aiming at 1-3 months per. The show will be 3 seasons long; season 1 has 12 episodes, season 2 has 10 episodes, and season 3 has 11 episodes. 

I’m ultimately not aiming to make a masterpiece, I and my buds just wanna work on something that people can have fun watching. Nevertheless, pointers are always welcome.

Neither I nor this series have any affiliation to the EDM artist Creo. I gave the show its name because it’s the Spanish word for “I believe” or “I think”, alluding to the title character gradually gaining awareness and sentience. I did not and do not intend on stealing the artist’s thunder, but it’s really too late to change the show’s name by now. Go check out his music, it slaps.  @rusty-gloinks

[courtney-deserved-better]

since i don’t have time to write fics for wlw week here are some wlw headcanons! @total-drama-wlw

(if i didn’t list a woman on here it’s not bc i necessarily headcanon her as straight and more that i don’t have a specific sexuality headcanon for her in general that fits this post)

beth - bisexual and i don’t think she realizes she also likes girls until in between tda and tdwt. something about her and lindsay’s trip to paris makes her realize she likes girls and she comes out to lindsay while they’re literally in jail and lindsay is the most supportive bestie ever. beth is also sometimes a lesbian to me. as a treat.

bridgette - if she had to label her sexuality she’d probably say bisexual but i think she prefers to not use a label and just vibe.

courtney - lesbian forever and ever in my heart 💜 don’t even get me started on her (affectionate)

gwen - bisexual who’s known she’s bisexual for a while and is very chill about it until she gets her first full blown crush on a girl and then she starts freaking out (not about being bisexual, she just doesn’t know how to handle a girl crush when she can barely handle a guy crush)

heather - lesbian but doesn’t realize it at first, just thinks she’s not into guys because she’s smarter and more strategic than all these other girls who are letting feelings get in the way of a million dollars

katie & sadie - started off very boy crazy but i think over time they were more into the idea of a relationship and a partner to obsess over than the boys themselves. but they’re not ready to come out to the other person because it will make them different so they both keep up the boy crazy act until finally they’re like… wait a minute we’re both lesbians and then they probably start dating each other or something. they give me the vibe of girls who were super into dan and phil and then realized they were more into the idea of having that kind of relationship with someone of the same gender than into guys. if that makes any sense.

sierra - not sure of her exact label but she’s a girl liker in at least one alternate universe

leshawna - probably a lesbian who isn’t quite ready to come out yet, still figuring herself out and experiencing occasional attraction to men which confuses her

eva - she’s a butch lesbian to me 💜

anne maria - bisexual and chill as hell about it

jo - butch lesbian who struggles to date because she has issues with femininity but she also views other butch women as competition. girlie has a lot she needs to work out

ella - either bisexual or comphet lesbian

jasmine - bisexual and i think also poly, she’d be down to date shawn and sammy at the same time

sammy - lesbian and in the closet because she doesn’t want amy to know and bully her (amy is also a lesbian but she’ll still bully sammy)

sky - also either bisexual or lesbian comphet

axel - ive seen her as a lesbian from day one (no im not projecting because she’s the td character who looks the most like me) but bisexual axel also intrigues me. truly depends on the situation

tdi emma - bisexual but everyone thinks she’s straight. after season two when they’ve become friends again, bowie finds out she’s bisexual and needs a day to recover from the shock

julia - bisexual but heavily prefers women, refuses to show emotional weakness and therefore doesn’t date anyone for a while

millie - lesbian who always gets crushes on straight girls so she never pursues them, very pessimistic about any crushes she does get

mk - lesbian but doesn’t want to date because love is lame

nichelle - lesbian who keeps her relationships private from the media not because she’s closeted but because she doesn’t want her love life plastered in tabloids

priya - my brain says bisexual but my heart says lesbian. my headcanons contain multitudes

rr emma - she’s either a lesbian or bisexual who is so much more attracted to men that she hesitates to label herself as bi. there’s literally no in between

jen - lesbian, she and tom are wlw/mlm solidarity, they are each others’ biggest hypemen when getting ready for dates

kitty - she’s either pan or aro and still figuring that out for herself. knows she is attracted to everyone equally but doesn’t know if the level of attraction is yes or no

the geniuses - that’s just a lesbian couple

the vegans - that’s a lesbian ex-couple who stayed friends but uh. that was maybe not the wisest choice

sanders - lesbian who is either dating macarthur or knows she deserves better. idk what macarthur’s deal is in the second scenario but she would be so protective of sanders if she got a girlfriend. immediately started imagining a fic where sanders and jo start dating and it creates this big rivalry between jo and macarthur that sanders has to deal with but that rivalry turns into a friendship which relieves sanders until she realizes that they two enable each other and now she’s like “idk if this is worse”