#I don’t want romcoms because I don’t like the style it doesn’t make the genre evil | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1kook · 4 years ago

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight�� the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

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absolutebl · 3 years ago

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Hi. Thank you for your blog. I really love it. I've recently become hooked on BL Dramas and binge watched a lot of them whilst I was stuck at home with covid for a couple of weeks (Bad Buddy, Why R U, To My Star, Light On Me, My Love Mix-Up! & TharnType) I love a good romantic comedy and was wondering if you have a top 10 list of BL dramas that have the best comedy in them. Thanks 😊

Ooo, a fun ask. And thank you for the compliment.

So most BLs are romcom adjacent now. Since the lighter hearted "Thai style" has come to dominate the genre. And specifically following the American style classic romcom beats and tropes (e.g. Lifetime, Hallmark, or 80s Hollywood heyday) is actually pretty rare. But here are some...

Top 10 BLs that are RomCom-esk!

These are the 10 I think most closely would be called a "rom com" if they were to be spat out by Hollywood.

In no particular order...

1. My Love Mix-Up! AKA Kieta Hatsukoi AKA Vanishing My First Love (Japan - Viki)

Honestly this is pretty much Japan giving us a classic yaoi romcom. It's very Japanese about it, so lots of slapstick but it is quite funny and spastic and full of caricature, meme-able moments, and awkward encounters. The only way it's not a romcom is that it didn't end on a kiss.

2. Cherry Magic AKA 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard (Japan - indie subbers or Crunch)

A bit softer on the extremes of humor than Mix-Up but equally charming. It has adult characters and an office setting so it is smack dab in the romcom wheelhouse. In this one a lot of the humor comes from hearing everyone’s thoughts. Also, doesn’t end (quite) on a kiss, but almost.

3. 2gether & Still 2gether (Thailand - GMMTV’s YouTube)

I think you can safely call this a romcom. Is it actually funny? You decide. But I think that the drunk scenes in both seasons are comedy GOLD. Win is an under appreciated physical comedian.

4. Puppy Honey (Thailand - GMMTV’s YouTube)

Okay so, it’s two parts and the first is mostly het, and the second is about 50/50 but I think it qualifies. And the whole think has that slightly absurd edge that makes in romcom-esk.

5. Why R U? SiafahZon (Thailand - Viki)

I wanna say that the SaifahZon’s story arc in Why R U? is a romcom (or intended to be) but FighterTutor is not? So 50/50 split? Does that count? Eh, I don’t have many options so it’s going on the list.

6. YYY (Thailand - search me)

This is more of a farce than a romcom, especially the special (aborted second quarantine season) and it is ... odd. It’s kind of BL does Diary of a Tootsie or something. I don’t know, I’m always confused by this show. (Origin of YoonLay tho.)

7. Secret Crush On You (Thailand - sigh)

This is definitely an attempt at a romcom. I forgot about it because I DNFed and I really did NOT like it. But yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s trying to do.

8-10. GMMTV’s Failures

You’ll notice there are quite a few from Thailand that didn’t make it. I think they missed the mark even though they were trying for romcom (Fish Upon the Sky, Thonhon Conlatee, even Enchanté). GMMTV seems particularly bad at romcoms, although they will keep trying. (Don’t get me wrong, I like Enchanté, but it’s not very funny even when it wants to be.) The success of 2gether drives GMMTV to try to recreate that magic (when really they should stick to SOTUS style BLs, more drama than comedy, like Bad Buddy). I say this knowing humor is subjective but none of these really made me laugh consistently.

I’m leaving these ends spots open to add more in the future, I hope.

Sirs Not Appearing On This List

Love Stage!! both the Japanese version (not recommended) and the Thai version (currently airing) I think would qualify. If the Thai version goes well I’ll come back and add it to the upper list. But I have to reserve judgement, as this is a very difficult yaoi to adapt for a modern audience.

Ossan’s Love both the set of Japanese movies and the newer series from Hong Kong are kind of romcom soaps. So dramadies? Soapymas? But I don’t personally like them at all.

I would probubly put Gen Y into this category too - soapy romcom.

This kind of BL is always uneven - they aren’t sure if they want to be taken seriously or laughed at or laughed with.

There are a couple of self titled BL sitcoms airing right now, Oh! My Boarding House (Korea) and that one from Thailand I can never remember the name. I wouldn’t call them romcoms tho.

In general Korea, Taiwan, Vietnam, and Mainland China seem to take their BL too seriously for comedy, although there may be some shorts out there.

It could be argued that 49 Days With A Merman is going there but I find the characters backgrounds a little too dark, and don’t really enjoy the humor that’s beens showing up. Also it’s still airing now, so may not be a BL in the end.

I have a few gay romcoms on this list: Old Guard Queer Cinema for BL Lovers

(source)

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keijifairy · 4 years ago

Text

accidentally hitting your face with a volleyball 〃

♡ miya atsumu, miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi

genre. fluff

-`,✎ ❝ hi! i saw your "accidentally hitting your face with a volleyball" hcs and i was wondering if you could do it for miya twins and sakusa too? have a nice day ♡ ❞ @wansseul

author's note. this took a hot min 😔 but thank you for waiting 💞 miya twins and omi ?? yes please 😽

+ this was a bit different than the first one but i hope u still like it !! 💗

༘ miya atsumu

━ you've met miya atsumu before, and you like to think it was some sort of cute meet you read about, but looking back into it, bumping into him in a hallway at nationals when you only wanted to refill some water bottles was kinda embarrassing, and the sweat dripping down your temple and your hair a hot mess was definitely not cute at all.

━ so you don't think about how he handed you the water bottles with your fingers making contact as he flashes you a stupidly boyish smirk, saying something along the cliche lines of "be careful next time. wouldn't want ya falling for someone else." and his eyes lingering on you a bit longer than you could handle as if you're in some fanfiction.

━ you only bowed your head hastily, trying to hide the flush on your cheeks as you thank him for what seemed to be the millionth time and run away. because you're not going to see him again, right?

━ but then you remember! that handsome man with an awfully familiar black jersey that you made a fool of yourself in front of…is from..inarizaki..and karasuno is competing with them...aaaand he's just standing across the court...

━ you try to erase any memory of your little encounter with him not even fifteen minutes ago, as you busy yourself with your team and hopefully, he doesn't spot you. little did you know though, he didn't miss you cheering for his opponents (well, duh) on the corner of his eye. (how could he miss you? you were a bit obvious with how you sneakily catch glimpes of him, and mayhaps, that inflated his ego a bit).

━ hear him out! he was only trying to impress you, okay? but that didn't really work out as luck didn't seem to be by his (and your) side today as the ball he slams onto the other side of the net doesn't land on the court, but instead on your face.

━ there was an attempt. a for effort!!

━ "nice going, dumbass." osamu deadpans from behind him, some trying to stifle their cackle at their teammate's poor attempt while the rest wince when they hear you groaning in pain.

━ the karasuno boys immediately start rushing towards you, but when they see miya atsumu strolling towards them, they halt in their tracks. (don't be fooled, he's close to melting into a puddle in shame under all that suave exterior).

━ he holds his hand out with concern masked by the same stupidly boyish smirk that's been taking up your mind as you purse your lips and reluctantly take his hand — and you suddenly feel like passing out any minute (the ball in your face may not be the reason).

━ "this must be what fate feels like."

━ you warily chuckle, letting go of his hand as you clutch your forehead. "if a ball getting slammed into your face is what you call fate, then i guess...yeah."

━ honestly, you're just thankful the cameras aren't rolling. there might be some people recording this ridiculous scene, but you think you're way past the humiliation.

━ "sorry about that." he silently winces as he not so subtly stares at the patch of red on your skin. "let's take ya to a nurse."

━ "it's fine," your shoulders lifted in a shrug, "and no thank you. i don't think my boys would...like that—" you look over your shoulder with a giggle and atsumu follows, only to see karasuno (not so subtly) glaring daggers at him— "and it seems like your game is starting soon anyway."

━ he only chuckles, turning his focus back to you and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. "let's see who you'll be calling your boy later then."

━ you sputter out a laugh in disbelief, as he shoots you a wave with his other hand resting on his hip. "cheer for me, yeah? i'll help ya get that treated once we're done."

━ "this is embarrassing." osamu murmurs to himself in the background with a roll of his eyes.

༘ miya osamu

━ you were only wandering around inarizaki after your own after school club had ended while waiting for your friends, but as you pass by the open doors of the school gymnasium and hear voices that seem to be fighting, you sneakily poke your head in.

━ "why do you look like that???"

━ "we're twins, dumb fuck."

━ you raise your eyebrow, stifling the chuckle from your throat in amusement. are they the miya twins the girls are obsessively squealing over in their daily hallway gossip? they seem...entertaining. huh, you probably should've paid more attention to your classmates.

━ too busy with their bickering, the twins and the other boys don't seem to notice a random student hanging by the doorway. you should've made your presence known, because it is the volleyball club and that means balls would be flying around the gym.

━ osamu throws a ball in atsumu's direction, but the latter quickly moves out of the way. "hey!"

━ and there comes the ball flying towards you.

━ "who's the dumbass now?"

━ "still you."

━ osamu ignores how his twin flips him off as soon as he turns his back on him. he quietly approaches you, reaching out his hand. "sorry, that was meant for that idiot—" he juts his chin at atsumu's direction— "over there."

━ "it wasn't me who hit them!"

━ you blink, mindlessly clasping your hand with his as he lifts you up. warm. you think to yourself, feeling heat creep up your neck. but he lets go as you get up, and you weirdly come to miss the feeling of his hand with yours.

━ perhaps the ball might have hit your head a bit too hard but you suddenly wonder, did you always have an attractive boy like miya osamu at your school?

━ "you have really pretty eyes," you mumble, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could even process what's happening and certainly loud and clear enough for him to hear. a twinkle of amusement flashes in his eyes and you see a small quirk in his lips. "i must've hit ya harder than i thought."

━ your eyes slowly widen, finally snapping out of whatever love at first sight moment you just experienced. it dart anywhere, anywhere but that growing smirk in his lips that mimick his twin's (but atsumu looks like he's about to have a laughing fit any second).

━ "i...i mean..." stop talking "im to-totally fine! a-okay!!" a-okay???? "don't wor...worry it's uh not that bad… um i think i uh have to g-go n..now…"

━ osamu tilts his head, and you feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest because you didn't think he would be this cute !?? UM ?? those girls weren't exaggerating ???

━ "your eyes are really pretty too."

━ he simply nods his head like he didn't just make your heart race with one simple sentence, turning his back away from you but you don't miss the small smile tugging up his lips.

━ he walks back to the court, with atsumu saying something to him that's surely about what just happened but you don't care, you think.

━ miya osamu just accidentally hit you with a ball and called your eyes pretty.

━ you purse your lips, trying to suppress a squeal as you slowly walk away and exit the gym.

━ "that was some shitty romcom scene that i almost barfed. i was hoping for more action." atsumu's laughter boomed around the walls, and osamu shut him up with a ball in his face.

༘ sakusa kiyoomi

━ "omi, can you teach me how to spike like you?"

━ "no."

━ you gasp dramatically, clutching your shirt where your heart is supposed to be for extra effect, but kiyoomi doesn't even spare you another glance. "tch, rude."

━ shouyou runs up to you, a ball in his hands and a smile reaching up to his eyes. "i'll teach you, y/n!"

━ you childishly stick your tongue out towards kiyoomi, who does nothing but continue to ignore you as he fixes his stance in the court. huffing, you turn back to shouyou and mimic his smile. "heh, thanks!"

━ you are the beloved manager of the msby black jackals, and it's kinda like babysitting grown men plus not so secretly crushing on the gorgeous sakusa kiyoomi, but it's a job that you've grown accustomed to and actually enjoy. they're taking a well deserved break, but kiyoomi is still practicing his spikes while shoyou try teaching you how to do them. honestly, were you even listening to him? not really.

━ you're only nodding wordlessly as your eyes shamelessly focus on how kiyoomi rears his hand back as the ball seems to be falling in the air, slow motion style (and that makes it cooler, you know?). you swear your eyes are sparkling as he flicks his wrist and effortlessly hits the ball.

━ you don't know when you've moved close to where he's spiking, but he only notices you still dazed just as the ball slams into your face.

━ "WAAAH, [Y/N]!!!" the impact of the ball had you dropping to the floor, and you feel your eyes immediately tear up. the boys run towards you, with koutarou placing your head on his lap as he cradles your face in his hands like you're a small child. "where does it hurt???"

━ you wince as he squishes your cheeks on his palms. "my face, duh."

━ "rule one, don't aim for the opponent's face." you look up to see kiyoomi towering over you, and you don't know if you're hallucinating but you swear, his eyes soften.

━ "oh," you jut your bottom lip, sitting properly with koutarou supporting your back, "so that was part of a lesson?"

━ "no." he heaves a sigh. "i'm sorry."

━ you bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to show as you suddenly feel weirdly giddy after getting hit by a ball. nonetheless, you wipe the tears in your eyes with the back of your palms as you bounce back to your feet (well, wobbled, but the boys supported you <3), and you really couldn't hide the smile at this point. "it's okay, omi."

━ his brows knitted in a frown. "...are you okay?"

━ "aw, you do care~"

━ he blinks. once. twice. (the boys don't really do a good job in stifling their laughter). sakusa kiyoomi does care actually, but that's not something he's just going to say right in your face, you know?

━ you playfully roll your eyes, flashing him a thumbs up. "it actually doesn't hurt like i thought it would!" even as you rub your forehead to try and soothe the pain, the smile doesn't leave your face and kiyoomi feels his heart hammering in his chest like some lovesick fool (and that, he definitely isn't!) "well, it does hurt, but i feel energized more than anything!"

━ you're pretty weird, he thinks, but it's quite endearing in a way and it's something that he adores about you. so for now, he swallows the words he's been dying to say, picking up the ball as he looks straight into your eyes. "come on, i'll show you the proper way to spike."

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chocosvt · 4 years ago

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⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years ago

Text

Drunken Confessions

Summary: On a tipsy dinner, you tease Yaku for being single. He ends the night with a botched confession. How do you react?

Notes: Yaku is such an underrated character!! You can check out other Yaku fic here and my Masterlist.

timeskip!Yaku x reader

genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers ficlet, (wc: 795)

“So you’re leaving again for Russia in a bit huh?” you ask Yaku Morisuke.

You were both on the floor of your Japanese style apartment. He sits across you on your tiny wooden table, drink in hand.

Yaku was one of your closest friends in Nekoma, but you haven’t seen him in a while. He was temporarily back in Tokyo for the Olympics where he competed for the Japanese national team.

“Yeah, I decided to stay a bit after the Olympics to see friends and family and you…” his voice trails, swirling his glass of whiskey.

“I really thought you’d come back with a Russian girlfriend, long legs, beautiful eyes, short hair, but you’re still single AF.” you chuckle, laughing at him.

Before Yaku headed off to Europe, he had swore he was not coming back single. He had dated here and there, but no one really stuck.

“Don’t rub it in. I’m still single. I get it ok!” he snorts, taking a long sip of his drink. He glares “I’m not ashamed of it. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t try.”

“Alright, alright.” you feign a sigh.

“Just haven’t found the right one yet,” he looks away, almost shy. His face tinged pink with the alcohol.

“If we’re both single by 30, we should get married like those in romcoms.” you joke. You’ve both been single for so long. It would kinda make sense.

“I wouldn’t mind. I’m still so attracted to you after all these years. It really isn’t fair” he sighs. “Hmmm…but I really don’t want to be in a long distance relationship though.”

“Then don’t.” you scoff. “It’s your choice Yaku, what makes you think I’d date you anyway.”

You lazily look him in the eye and furrow your brow.

“Oh,” his head droops a bit as he tries to hide his disappointment.

“I wouldn’t want someone who doesn’t think I’m worth the distance.” you sink into your elbows.

His eyes perk up, “I mean you are…look this isn’t on you..”

“I’ve been single for so long because sometimes I can’t help but measure people I date against you. Some have come close but it’s just not the same. I guess it’s always been you.” he puts down the glass on the table and runs his fingers through his hair.

When you realize what Yaku has just said, your eyes grow wide. Your sudden change of expression is enough to sober him. He starts to get up.

“Ma-maybe it’s just the alcohol talking. I think I should head home.” he mumbles.

——————————————————————————

The next morning, Yaku calls you while you’re still in bed, “Hey, I know I said some things last night.”

“Morning to you to Yaku.” you yawn crankily, “It’s fine, we can just forget about it.”

“What? Already? Did you just pee it all out—“

“Yaku, I’m going back to sleep.” you get ready to end the call.

“I meant every single word.” he yells over his phone to make sure you hear him, “I thought moving would help get over you, but clearly it hasn’t. I’m asking you to give me a chance, PLEASE.”

His voice wakes you up. You’re properly sitting up by this point. Yaku is energetic, but his energy is almost…frantic.

“I know, but I…I haven’t thought out the logistics yet and I want to give this a shot.” he continues, “Every time we’ve met up has been the highlight of my day. I’ve been putting off asking you out for so long. This is so long overdue!”

The words continued to tumble out of his mouth, “The Olympics is great and all but if I could go back and relive any part of my coming home, it will be all the time I spent with you.” his voice was almost pleading, the sound of a man running on borrowed time, “Are you free today or tomorrow? I leave tomorrow night.”

“And if you can’t spend the day with me, I’ll take any time that you’re free. I just want to be able to see you again before I go.”

“I thought you were scared?” you scratch your head, overwhelmed by Yaku’s outburst.

“I am, but I want you more than I fear the distance.” his voice softens. He waits for your reply.

“I’m free after I get ready.” you quietly speak.

“Great, meet you in two hours?” Yaku sounds exhilarated.

As you put down the phone, a wave of excitement and sadness washes over you. You’re excited that you get to spend his last day in japan with you, but gloomy that Yaku will be gone the day after.

You sigh and begin to get dressed. You think about why none of your previous relationships have worked and maybe just maybe you were measuring them up to Yaku too.

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Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar

Do you want to be added to the taglist? Don’t be shy nowww DM or comment is key!!!

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years ago

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based on this hilarious post, by @profoundinqq! and written for @mystybloo.

sam looks at his brother, a fast-growing-familiar eye crinkling smile making him look perfectly content as he leans on cas, relaxing his weight against him with an arm wrapped around cas's shoulders. they're all drinking — have been a while, but that's not where dean's smile stems from, and sam knows that. he looks carefree, younger, and so happy, and it's a constant sam's been noticing a while now, though tonight, and lately, it just seems normal.

(that's the thing. it is.)

sometimes sam wonders how it all began.

he's obviously ecstatic it did - honestly, he could think forever, and not come up with two individuals more deserving of such profound happiness, as dean or cas. or the love, abound when they're together, so incredibly obvious, and somehow, almost hope-kindling in a ways.

but it doesn't stop him wondering, right now, at this moment, how they finally ended up taking the leap. facing the music, falling into each other's arms, ending their ridiculous, decade-long dance of pining, confessing.

dean's never volunteered the information, and sam's never felt it urgent enough (or himself, earnest enough) to ask cas - but oh, it's probably been buried in the back of his mind for long, bundled with all the other pleasanter questions about life and living it — and today, it leaps to the front when the empty, green bottle spinning ambitiously under everyone's pointed stares, ends up stuttering to a pause, pointed at his brother.

they're playing truth or dare - a significant percentage of their adopted family present, although only a few remaining cause it's past midnight. they're sitting on the floor in a circle, all varying degrees of drunk - and sam winchester seizes his chance.

"truth or dare, dean."

dean doesn't really hesitate, which is commendable; he just disentangles himself from being draped over his boyfriend, and takes another swig from his bottle. "truth."

"how did you and cas -" sam pauses. his eyes shift to cas, and the angel faintly smiles back.

"- finally grow a pair?" gabriel finishes for him prematurely, leading to sam glaring in his general direction, because it's a little hard to know his exact coordinates at sam's current levels of inebriation.

"we haven't been growing anything." cas says, a hint of humor in his squint but that's about it. "or pairs of things."

"yeah, sammy." dean agrees, though his is not a wooden face. he doesn't pretend to not understand what sam - or well, gabriel, is going for. "me and cas? we're old news."

"you're a blank page." sam frowns, prissy and self-righteous, and somehow pulling off an annoyed little brother vibe on top of that. fuck that, he's the same distance from forty as dean, just the less prone-to-forgetting-the-reasons-he-enters-a-room side. "with a question mark at the end of the headline."

"how did you end up together?"

it's not his best comeback, but dean rolls his eyes — admission of defeat — with no real passion in the practiced habit. "what do you want to know?"

cas looks at dean with a substantial amount of surprise.

"he gave me a pick-me-up, back in hell." dean throws back, before realizing he's earned eye rolls from almost everyone in the room. sam takes it a step ahead, slipping into bitchface territory, as if to remind dean that he gets to ask these questions now - they're over lying about breaking the world to each other, at this point. they have to be.

another eyeroll, and then dean sighs.

"goddamn saps, all of you." he looks accusingly around the room, meeting eileen, charlie and gabriel's twinkling eyes. "fine. what version you want?"

"well, the long -"

"trick question. there's only one." dean cuts him off, with an age-old rendition of a shit-eating grin. if sam can spend his entire life and then some, perfecting the bitchface, at least dean's got this. "so, uh. me and cas."

charlie giggles, but shuts up immediately when dean starts speaking.

"guess we were playing truth and dare then as well." dean frowns. "man, for a bunch of badass dudes and ladies who save the world, we sure play a lot of middle-school games in the afterparties."

"i like it." cas defends, and that's that on that, because dean strokes cas's knee with his thumb and a smile, and they stare until the fork in the conversation is forgotten and sam clears his throat impatiently. (it's gabriel's turn to giggle.)

"right. right, yeah." dean swallows. "well, so it landed on me, and cas asked me to choose -"

"he dared you to kiss him!" charlie guesses, or actually, declares, beaming.

"no, katherine heigl, this isn't a chickflick."

"if you went for katherine heigl, you should've gone for romcom." gabriel inputs, almost serious for a fraction of a second.

"does it matter?" eileen signs, and sam reads her hands out loud absentmindedly, and with enthusiasm.

"dean, would you just say it minus the drama pauses?"

"yeah, instead of being grossly inaccurate in your movie genre references?" gabriel piles on top of it, and charlie nods in sympathy.

"of course you are, but i think i specified your face was." cas points out, and it's the first time he's spoken up, and dean almost blushes for it.

dean pulls a face. "go to hell, i don't have to take this." but he goes on anyway, cause that's dean, isn't it? "just - i chose truth, okay?"

no one breathes for a moment.

"and cas told me i was beautiful."

there's a gasp. probably charlie — but not completely unlikely to be gabriel.

"yeah, 'kay." dean dismisses, though it's mostly directed at the other four (hunter, hunter, nerd, ex-trickster, not necessarily in that order) who've taken to gushing by now. "and that's it. story over. cas messed up, billion year old angel style, and it led me to realize he was the most adorable dork i've ever loved. or like, the only one. ever."

sam, charlie, eileen and gabriel bat their eyelashes in undisguised wonder.

"you're allowed to disperse to your rooms to cry now." dean retorts, and he's about to add more to it considering he's well settled on the wisecrack wavelength, when cas suddenly interrupts.

with an inscrutable, "no."

"no?" dean repeats, eyebrows raised.

there's a speck in cas's eyes, the curve of his lips too whimsical. it's almost un-cas-like, except no, it isn't. doesn't stop dean from staring anyways - eyes falling to the latter's lips, before returning to his eyes.

"dean, i knew how the game worked."

dean frowns.

"i 'messed up' the rules on purpose." and he accompanies it with the fucking air-quotes, so he might sound completely nuts, but it's definitely still him.

"what does that mean?"

there's pin-drop silence.

"you'd call me adorable when i didn't understand aspects of human behavior or games often. and it always made you smile. so at some level, i wanted that, even when i did understand those things. sometimes, i'm compelled to draw the conclusion, i wanted you to think i was adorable." cas pauses, blinks. "that time, it was an added, and wholly unexpected incentive when you decided to give up on trying to explain it to me, and kissed me instead."

"cas -" dean stares at his angel in gap mouthed bewilderment. he doesn't know what he's supposed to feel right now - though it's hard to feel any kind of manipulated, when cas is being this honest about it. alternatively, when it's gotten him the best part of his life. "you lied to me."

"of course i didn't." the bastard has the balls to sound indignant about it. "your face is exquisite."

"stop that." dean swallows, trying to keep himself from getting flustered. "you literally played dumb."

"stating entirely true facts about your bewitching face hardly sets back my intelligence, dean."

a traitor snickers in the background.

dean is officially too drunk to deal with this. he's going to give it more thought tomorrow - that is, if he remembers it at all. right now, what's way more important, is that his boyfriend apparently flirts by pretending to misinterpret rules, and accidentally compliment dean, and that's the most ridiculous thing dean's ever heard, in a life stuffed to the damn brim with ridiculous things.

"you're so fucking weird, cas."

"no, dean. i'm adorable." cas deadpans at him, and dean lets out a high-strung laugh, short, after which he finds himself able to do little else but shake his head fondly. mostly, at the floor, because if he'd been looking at cas, he'd probably also have been kissing him.

"and you agree." sam points out, to dean, and in return, dean snaps up a look pissed off enough for sam to truly feel sated enough by this ordeal, because he shrugs, and eileen sets the bottle spinning again.

nobody protests.

a few chances later, after charlie's rushed off to throw up, and sam and eileen have gone to bed, and gabriel's sort of wandered away at the very least - cas spins the bottle again.

it's just the two of them, so when the bottle points at about forty degrees from straight at dean, they decide to forego asking the lamp in the bottle's true line of questioning, in favor of cas asking dean.

"truth or dare?"

"dare."

"alright, i shall." cas whispers, reaching out to cup dean's face as he kisses him, and pull him closer. and dean goes, obviously not arguing with the concept of cas kissing him, even if he's doing it 'as a dare', in a hilarious, mindboggling, and adorable callback to that time dean realized he was in love with him — because he's a weird ex-angel-who-apparently-understands-humans-now, and also, definitely, the love of his life.

("cas." dean psst's, later in bed, when cas is turned away from him, hugging a pillow with his knees. "truth or dare?" cas groggily turns, "truth." dean breaks into a smile. "will you marry me?" cas freezes for a beat, and then drags dean to himself, kissing him with his eyes closed, still stunned, but no less enthusiastic for it. when they separate, cas's cheeks are wet, and dean feels like he's floating. "you know, sweetheart, we can play the old-fashioned way, and you'd still be the most adorable thing in my life." dean mumbles, kissing cas again, this time on his forehead, and in the same, shared breath, cas breathes out, smiling. "yes.")

#destiel #deancas #destiel crack #destiel fluff #dean winchester #castiel #canon divergence #sam winchester #saileen #charlie bradbury #gabriel #tfw #destiel wedding #truth or dare #bluefirecas #tearsofgrace #rambleoncas #chaoticdean #oh writing my writing

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jlf23tumble · 4 years ago

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While we excitedly wait for some amazing new mom Harry fic would you maybe rec some of your favorites that are already out there?

Oh, man, I was born to answer this ask...actually, I've done it before AND I even made a "the signs as mpreg Harry fics" for @vibey-lesbian, but timeless masterposts about Harry Styles as a mom can always stand an update! I legit planned to do this earlier this morning, but work kicked my ass, and I am literally FINALLY free to do it, so let's all get inspired for @momrryfest2020, hmmmm???

I hemmed and hawed about how to sort all these because it can be a little overwhelming, so I think I'm gonna just do rough categories, under the cut!

Canon Canyon: Could it happen this way? You tell me, y/n!!

Little Wonder, @sweariwouldnt. I love that Kim from Modest is a tagged character in this, but all in all, this is sweet and fluffy and so cinematic, that scene with the pills! The abortion discussion!

The Sunshine Stays, quickedween/ @becomeawendybird. I don't know how to describe it, but this fic is a pretty and warm and cozy sweater.

Put It Into Words, orphan_account. Love me a good babymoon, and this features some body worship/praise plus canon a/b/o, which always makes me smile because yeah! Why not!

got a river for a soul, cabinbythesea. DIRTY TALKKKKKKKKKKKK.

Teddy Bear Princess series, noelle1224. I promise you, the entire series is worth a read, but pregnant princess is where shit kicks OFF.

Funkink! Most of these involve dirty talk, roleplay, and happiness

When the Wolves Come Out, @rosemarianthyme. I'm gonna put this down under breeding kink, and maybe that's a stretch because it's not the main focus, but for the love of god, read and enjoy!

Baby Tell Me, @star55. This author has written quite a few amazing parent fics recently, but this one is on the kink side, girl direction, the entire SERIES, geddit!

slow and steady, @cabinbythesea. MORE DIRTY TALK, we love to see it!

I Just Wanna Taste It, @homosociallyyours. I feel like this is 10000000% canon, and I love the entire concept because on one hand, the WS video is all WaTeRmElOn Is PuSsY, but on the other, prego belly vibe, god, the mind of Harry Styles, the levels, the fine lines, if you will.

I May Be Crazy, Don't Mind Me (Say, Boy, Let's Not Talk Too Much), @shapeoflou. This feels so canon, yet it is not: basically, Harry working some pregnancy kink talk into the mix.

Angskink! Most of these involve dirty talk, roleplay, and sadness

Fertile Ground, Blake/ @newleafover. THIS STORY, MY GODDDDD, it's perfection, it's short, it's one of my all-time faves in terms of the emotion and ground covered, just masterfully done, I love that I can reach out and chat with the author about garlic (among other things), like, constantly, do yourself a favor and read every fic they’ve ever written, you won’t regret!

I Want Your Belly, @sulkingroom. Both Melissa and @vondrostes have written some INCREDIBLE Harry/other pregnancy kink fics lately (Terran's zayn/xander/harry, help), but Jesus, this one! Yeah! Adam out there, making dreams come true!

violence of my own touch, 14hrflight/ @silverfoxlouis. Honestly? Anything Chi has written for these two is a must read, but the overall ANGST in this fic, ouchhhhhh.

i cannot reach your heart, HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals. This fic is a heart-clencher, the dirty talk, the aftermath, and it’s the second part in a series, but the whole thing is worth the read and the tears on two levels.

AUs that feel like real-life AUs, pure romcom vibes only

Answer All Your Wishes, @sadaveniren. I don't know the U this is based on (Tom Fletcher/Giovanna Fletcher, blogging????), but if you want to see pinterest Harry living his best WAG life, here you go!

Falling for me won't be a mistake, @rearviewdreamer. Workaholic doctor Harry Styles let's it all hang loose on vacation, oopsie baby!

You look so beautiful in this light, @hopelesswriter. One of the very few fics that uses mommy as a kink name instead of daddy, and I sure hope there's more to come!

i'll make this feel like home, @zouisclimax. I love that this list features not one (1) but two (2) amazing fics where Harry carries another man’s baby, yet it all works out.

hard to confess, by @hereforlou. THIS FIC, mannnnnnnn, it makes you want to slap some people back into reality, but the way it all unfolds, the dramatic bathtub scene, yeah.

Roses in Bloom series, mybeanieandme and radadusta. Honestly, this is like watching a movie that already exists, and credit to the authors because it feels like it's an AU based on a U, yet I don't think it exists? Is Stevie Nicks at that baby shower? I still need to revisit, but i don't think so, boo.

taste on my tongue (just can't get enough of you), messyjessy08. Yes, I would seriously watch the hallmark/lifetime/logo wherever it ends up movie of new mother omega harry squirting milk in a sexy way.

Time to move on to individual author territory!

ballsdeepinjesus bb: one of my fave authors in this fandom, period, and they produced not one (1) but two (2) related-ish masterpieces

oh baby baby, the reason i breathe is you. God, even just reading the tags makes me smile, Harry and his life plans and how it all works out in a 9k fic, be still my heart.

deep in my heart i know there's only you. The tag about competitive parenting classes? Just know I pictured it during that SNL skit.

Supernope City: another fave author, someone who just knocked it out of the park in this genre, too

Can't Hide It, You Might As Well Embrace It. There are only two (2) Harry Potter AUs that I will read, and this one is one of them!!

Needing You More and More, Let's Give Love a Try. The other fic on this list with the specific trope of "Harry's pregnant with another man's baby, but it doesn't even matter".

Jaerie Junction: I can't even begin to tell you how much I love the way Jaerie gets into pregnancy kink at a level that speaks to my soul, here are JUST A FEW gems!

Next Exit. Gimme that sweet, sweet gotta-pee desperation.

never boring. Lactation kink at a Christmas party? How is this perfection only 2k??

I'm not that other guy. Lactation kink at work?? How is this perfection only 3.6k??

freaks from the internet. GOD, THIS SERIES RUINED ME, SO GOOD (basically, omega Harry has a breast-milk-selling side hustle, and his ex is...intrigued)

I Think You're Already Home. This one was a WIP that I would drop everything to absorb: famous agoraphobic alpha Louis Tomlinson secluded in his home, hiring omega Harry Styles to birth his child? OKAY!

to change how you see and what you believe. The dirty talk! THE ROLEPLAY!! AND THEN IT HAPPENS!!! Plus yoga.

Finally, some epic tales that just ended or are still in progress:

Say Something, @kingsofeverything. LISTEN, I have been this fic's fan since it was a random idea on Lauren's blog, bring on the timestamps! Basic idea is 50YO divorced omega Harry, with three grown daughters, meets 28YO alpha Louis through a heat-help service, and oopsie baby!

little bitty rattle (and all our dreams are comin' true), @itsmiz. The long-prayed-for (by me) sequel to the Sometimes Green and Sometimes Blue universe, pregnant omega Harry (and all kinds of related insecurities)

#fic reg #momrry #gotta cross post!!!#mpreg #mpreg harry #omega harry #GOD FORBID i go back to edit the tags #sorry for the long post

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nissakii · 4 years ago

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9 Romance Animes you should watch

Who doesn’t know the feeling when you have just finished a bunch of Shounen animes filled with action or maybe some sad movie you simply cannot get over with that easily,

and all of a sudden the thought comes up, “ah it’s about time to watch some romance again.”

For those of you who are searching for an anime to satisfy your maiden hearts, here are 9 romance animes you should probably watch when you are craving for those little candies in your life!

Kaguya love is war

Let’s start with a different kind of romance anime: Kaguya love is war!.

While the anime as well as the manga had received a lot of recognition and fanbase, there are still a lot of people who only know it for the memes (Fujiwara).

Despite it being another romcom Anime the fact that it’s built up in an interesting and strategic way. It doesn’t feel like a romance anime sometimes and even makes you feel if there is even a hint of that sappy love-story you might be craving.

But I can assure you, that anime will stir all kinds of emotions going from sad and tragic backstories that might let you shed a tear to laughter where you have to repeat one scene or another.

Next to the variety of characters that all have flaws, flaws and… even more flaws despite their good image at school, which makes them much more relatable and twisted that you might feel, finally not another perfect protag who gets all the girls/boys.

Because on both sides the mind games are on a high stack, yes mind games that’s the cue because Kaguya love is war is not a simple love story that plays in the most important years of highschool.

It’s a game of who will give in first, who weakens to succumb to their own feelings and confess to the other person, with all kinds of tricks and traps to get their ways.

Let’s not forget about external factors like other characters who put the whole strategy planned ahead to no avail and the funny ways of ridiculing some typical anime cliches.

With a lot of romance, psychology, humor and a hint of drama watching Kaguya love is war will be your out-of-the-ordinary romance anime that you surely don’t want to miss out.

Tonari no kaibutsu-kun

Tonari no kaibutsu-kun is an anime which might not be as known and especially the manga who was even better didn’t get as much recognition.

It’s not a new-generation anime but still one you might want to watch for a change of pace.

Another synonym for the anime is my little monster matching the male part of the main cast.

The two main characters are not your usual shy girl and popular guy, but a hard-working emotionless highschool girl with no friends due to the fact that she doesn’t care at all about her social life and enjoys studying to secure a big job later on.

On the other hand, we have the boy who is not shown at the beginning since he was suspended from the get-go getting into fights and being feared by others yet turns out to be a little bit socially-inept and misunderstood by those around him.

Due to a coincidence and some misunderstandings those two collide and it’s not like you think a super cute shoujo-anime moment, not at all rather the potrayment of social anxiety on the boy’s side and being dragged into a mess on the girl’s side.

To not tell you too much, the interesting thing about this anime is actually not the pairing (which of course is too but) the development of each character, even the side characters.

Because in this series everyone gets their deserved screen time and character development, showing big problems highschool girls and boys alike tend to have around their ages and the social stigma around f.e your typical popular girl or the sporty gets along with everyone guy from the class next door.

If you already watched this series, but haven't read the manga yet I can only recommend you to do so, the stories of each character are told in depth there and it goes beyond the anime revealing interesting facts and arcs that were not shown in the anime.

Kimi Ni Todoke

If you are a slow-burn romance fan like me, then Kimi Ni Todoke might be your next series to watch.

The title means “From me to you”, depicting the life of a female highschooler who gets misunderstood frequently by her peers as she looks like Sadako from the horror movie “The Ring”. As she is actually a very kind and optimistic soul her classmates and the people around her get too scared to even talk to her and start rumors that she is able to curse others.

While the story goes on the girl starts to develop more and more, getting to know much more feelings and experiences through her classmates and the guy she admires.

It’s a lighthearted cute story with a lot of relatable issues that some of you might already have overcome or in midst of it.

Like the title says, the story focuses much more on the depiction of thoughts and feelings, how different the thoughts one person holds and it can or cannot reach another. Showing us the many sides of communication and trying to understand other people not by only relying on only what one thinks is the way to communicate but also adapt to the way others try to communicate, f.e shy characters who cannot always get their thoughts across.

It also revolves around how one perceives other people they have never engaged with and the main role of rumors and prejudices taking place in our society as well.

For some people this series may be a bit too long for a romance anime, having two seasons and a total of twenty-four episodes, but it’s worthwhile if you are interested in a more pure kind of romance that establishes slowly and step by step.

Akkun to Kanojo

Sometimes for a change of pace seeking something easy and quick to watch might help you to sweep that small moment of romance into your life.

Akkun to Kanojo is a short series consisting of 25 Episodes in total but each episode is 3 to 4 minutes long if you cut the opening out it’s even shorter.

Still the story that is told might make you smile from time to time, as you see the romance between a male tsundere and a cute childhood friend unfold.

The concept of the male being the tsundere is really funny and has a little twist as most animes, especially romance animes usually depict the woman/girl as a tsundere type of character in that cast.

The pure love the male part actually bears for the female one is very cute yet a bit frustrating at the same time just like he does feel when seen from his perspective.

Which makes it even cuter is that the female part knows him very well as she doesn’t really get bothered by his tsundere traits and just plays them off not minding him even insulting her since she knows he doesn’t mean it like that.

The guy on the other hand blames himself and even tells himself he cannot get near to such a pure and beautiful being, whenever she leaves right afterward.

A funny romance comedy that skips the drama and fills the day with smiles and cuteness.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun

Monthly Girls Nozaki-kun, one of the anime that makes you wonder which shipping you like the most but at the end leaves you behind since the romance aspect is always overshadowed by comedy.

And that is not a bad thing.

While the manga goes past the story told in the anime and even has some more romantic moments as well as crucial realizations, the anime gives the viewer a lot of content when it comes to diverse characters, funny moments, frustrating interruptions and even more.

At some points a lot of misunderstandings come up which I personally found so frustrating and hoped to finally get resolved, yet at the same time they had their own charm in pushing the story into another direction.

It’s a slice of life anime in the end which makes the story not too flashy, but the flashy characters compensate with the fact.

If you are searching for a romance anime where the comedy genre is heavily emphasized then this might be your next choice, since the anime is much more for laughter and enjoying the flow of character interactions and relationships than the actual romance as the focus point.

Honobono log

Another short series anime with only 12 Episodes this time and they are less than two minutes long. Still it’s a refreshing depiction of the many ways of love going from fighting couples to a heartbroken girl and a family.

The interesting style of art, the way how sounds and music are used, and the vibe in general just puts you at ease and let’s you enjoy the story with a light heart.

Especially after a hard day watching this short series feels like a wonderful way to slowly get into your deserved relaxation mood.

Ouran Highschool Host club

A classical one that most of you probably already watched and if not, then this is one of the animes you should really add to your list.

Ouran highschool host club could be viewed as one of the older animes that just rushes your mind back into a nostalgic mood, and the original story behind it still influences a lot of people outside.

It’s about a girl who dresses as a boy, not to be admitted or because she feels that way, no because she doesn’t care at all how she looks and how people perceive her making others mistake her for a boy.

She does not really intentionally make people view her that way, and events of coincidences caused her to get the final blow as she destroys a vase and is forced to join the host club of her school to pay it off.

Of course the leader of the club thinks she is a boy until he realizes the Fe before the male part is very present but he was too dense to realize it.

A story with a lot of character development, building relationships, finding yourself and many other important topics starts from here on.

The many characters that represent the host club is what makes the series so charming and with the female lead not being your typical female protag as well.

As she is a very independent, cold and goal-oriented character who doesn’t care about romance at all yet has a natural charisma of her own.

A slow-paced romance anime with a lot of stories and derives from your usual storyline, a must watch for those of you who haven’t yet.

Kaichou wa Maid-sama

Another classic to add on your list with a feisty female lead and a funny teasing male lead who doesn’t seem to care for anything at all, beside teasing the student council president who is the female lead.

The student council president is known for being strict, not standing boys and doesn’t fear to speak her mind when she sees things going wrong at school, actively taking part that the school rules are being followed.

But her school is mostly filled with boys and undisciplined ones on top of that making her being feared for chewing each of them out with no remorse or hesitation.

There is a little problem though, when the handsome and cool male lead suddenly finds out that she is part-timing as a maid in a maid-cafe after school to support her family financially. And he doesn’t simply tell her secret, no it gets worse.

He visits her frequently, keeping the secret for himself and threatening her into hanging out with him or talking to him, even forcing her to be his maid at work.

An interesting development of storyline and plot, with two people coming from different backgrounds and getting to know each other's real sides as they move forward towards a complex relationship.

Wotaku ni Koi wa Muzukashii

What is the best way to find love for an otaku? Fall in love with another otaku.

This romance comedy anime takes place in the world of work where the characters are all already older and mature than the usual highschool love setting.

As the female-lead switches workplaces in order to hide the fact she is a yaoi-fangirl and her secret passion for anime, she meets her handsome school friend again who is a video-game otaku.

Both of them go out for drinks and make fun of their situations being both different kinds of otakus, the sudden purpose of trying to date comes up and so a weird start of a relationship between two otakus takes place.

Additionally a lot of characters join the cast with different kinds of love stories of their own having one couple that constantly fights and doesn’t look like one at all, as well as side characters with their insecurities.

The everyday life of an otaku couple starts and we follow their story into the twists and fun of being in a relationship, as well as the insecurities and concerns that come with it.

A series for a different kind of romance that makes you wonder how different couples can be and the importance of accepting your true self.

Did you already watch any of this series?

Or do you think there is another must watch romance anime?

Drop it in the comments!

Well then let me now return to my lonely tea,

forever single Makii

Original Source

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flying-elliska · 4 years ago

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So I watched Happiest Season (livewatch with @beeexx my fave penguin enthusiast 🐧🐧🐧)

Overall I enjoyed it ? But it's not the light-hearted romcom it's been promoted as.

Spoilers !

The positive:

- Kristen Stewart, het icon of my teen years, is just glowing in this, like she is so happy to be finally playing gay lmao. This is really her story. Her character, Abby, is by turn charming, adorable, funny, and relatably awkward. Also, her glam butch style is just A++. And she has good chemistry with her co-star - they feel and behave like a believable couple (which has been a problem with actresses playing wlw in the past where you could really see they weren’t fully into it.) They were super cute together. This still feels cathartic somehow, like Bella Swan decided to go see a therapist instead of going off the deep end and finally figured herself out.

- I loved that this isn't the "token gays in a sea of straightness" trope. Abby's BFF is gay and really funny - and this particular trope feels a lot less annoying when the gay BFF is there for another gay person so it's more like queer solidarity instead of him being a prop for a straight person's development. Him trying to play straight was just hilarious. Aubrey Plaza plays Harper's (the other part of the main couple) ex and she is just great, seems a bit shady at first but her helping Abby out was just...so compassionate. Also she is probably the hottest character in this movie let's be real. And I loved the bit where she takes her to a drag bar (the straight bar where Harper goes to seems so drab in comparison fjfj)

- There were some funny, classic rom-com shenanigans moments - the sneaking around, getting stuck in the closet, etc...the creepy twins were quite funny too, if infuriating. My favorite was definitely Jane, the overlooked kooky sister, who "has been writing a fantasy book for the past ten years" (I can relate) and whose overachiever family has pretty much given up on her (I can also relate).

-Ngl the whole ‘rich people being fake and neurotic and making everything x100 times more difficult than it has to be’ bit felt very realistic. Like, I’ve met those people, and they are just as annoying in this movie as they are in real life. Also a very realistic rep of having to fake who you are in a town full of fake people pleasers and over achievers (even if it was stressful to watch lmao) and how Christmas can bring out the worst in people.

- Even though it has issues, the ending was very heartfelt and I definitely cried. This movie is just really raw and sad in some parts, but in a way that felt genuine and you can tell that a lot of queer people were involved in making it. It really touches on this deep seated anguish of possibly being rejected, of not knowing whether your family is going to accept you or not, on desperately trying to pass because you’re afraid of change...I think a lot of that comes to the actors being really good, like all of them, and really acting their heart out. And the moment where the dad decides to forego a big donor/supporter because he doesn’t want to force his daugther to hide really touched me. I also really liked the part where the BFF talks about how everybody’s coming out journey can be different and it’s important to remember that, especially if you have the chance to come from a very tolerant background.

The Less Positive

- The movie has been criticized for being weirdly apolitical (for instance the dad is a mayor but we never learn anything about his actual political opinions) but tbh this is supposed to be a Hallmark-like holidays movie I think that’s kind of part of the genre to be in this sort of happy slightly tone-deaf bubble and I don’t think straight movies of this type get this sort of criticism so yknow i’m fine with that bit i guess not all queer movies should have to be deeply political (even tho yeah it’s still very homonormative and ‘all about family values’ etc etc)

- Most of the issues I have with this movie center around Harper, Abby’s love interest and the one who lies to her family about their relationship. Now, I think Mackenzie Davis is a really good actress. And I do feel sympathetic for the character. The movie really makes you understand all the pressure she’s under, how her parent’s love is conditional, all the public scrutiny, and why she behaves the way she does. And her finally pulling through made me cheer for her. However, there were a lot of moments in the movie where I was genuinely unsure if I should be rooting for Abby and her to stay together. She does a lot of things that are definitely deeply unhealthy and questionable and had me going ‘Abby pls run away while you still can’. I feel a lot of compassion for her. But I simply don’t think the movie gives us enough happy time with Abby and Harper for me to really want them to be together as a couple -they spend a big part of the movie being mad at each other. They should have given us more scenes with them at the start to really get a feel of who they are as characters and as a couple, so when it gets rough, we actually root for them to pull through. This is an issue a lot of mediocre romances have - they assume we will root for the characters just because they’re said to be in love. For me, that doesn’t really work. And even though the ending made me quite emotional (again, great acting) - as a romance, it doesn’t really work for me.

- I really liked the bit where the family realized they had been putting this pressure on each other to be perfect and as they shared all these secrets they finally came together as a family. But...honestly, the family started out as just so profoundly neurotic it felt a bit unbelievable (and their social circles felt like a nightmare). A bit like Abby and Harper’s relationship being all ok after Harper’s big change of heart. The whole ‘mom’s secret desire to do karate but it’s unlady-like’ being put on the same level as her daughter’s coming out had me rolling my eyes. And there is a forced coming out scene which I really really hate.

- I think what I am really tired of, is queer movies who center coming out so much, the anxiety of being accepted or not, etc. And who present coming out as this revolutionary process that is going to change everything immediately. In my experience, at least, it’s often a process of small inches, towards self acceptance, towards your family coming to terms and learning to be less unconsciously bigoted, sometimes good intentions, sometimes microagressions or being erased, etc etc. I also just really want queer stories and queer romances who are not centered on coming out, on ‘what will others/my family think’, who have shenanigans and tension based on other things, with characters who might struggle with self acceptance sometimes (or not) but who have other things going on as well and who are fuller characters. It’s about damn time. Until then, the movies we have will end up feeling a lot like a PSA for straight people.

Overall

I still think this is a pretty quality movie. Good acting, believable and often funny dialogue, good chemistry, etc. (And let’s be honest, the bar for wlw movies is uhhhh not very high.) I really enjoyed watching Kristen Steward play gay and have chemistry with pretty ladies. There was room for holiday gay movies (even tho I want to see more, with more diverse characters).

It feels like wish-fullfillment for a certain type of queer person - (upper) middle class, with parents who are...ambiguously accepting. It does transcribe well this tension of not really being to predict their reaction - and illustrates the importance of being very obviously accepting with your children - like tell them it’s okay for them to be gay from the start, even if they turn out to be straight - otherwise they will be left wondering if they’re not. It’s this fantasy that everything will turn out all-right after you come out, you will fit in your family better than before, your mistakes will be forgiven if you are earnest enough, and life can go on as usual but better. And it is sweet, and cathartic, in a way, even if not revolutionary.

But yeah, as a romance, I wasn’t entirely sold on it. And I think it was promoted as a lot more uplifting than it really was.

#happiest season #wlw movies #lgbt rep #movie review #kristen stewart #ellie watches movies #wlw rep

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aloera · 3 years ago

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The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

#AHH ive wanted to answer these for so long...... bro fr i was so happy when u sent these!!! like wow!! finally got sent one!!!#sorry for how long the responses are idk how to be concise #asks #anon #a(lore)a

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

1151

survey by caitlinen

Clothes & body.

What color is your shirt? The one I’m currently wearing has some white, red, and black on it.

What length is your hair? Too long than how I want it to be; I just haven’t had the time to have it trimmed + Covid’s bad again so I can’t even go out of the house anymore. Anyway it’s already down to my boobs but I really want to have it cut all the way up to my neck again.

Do you have any broken bones currently? Nope, never happened.

Have you ever broken a bone? See above.

What color are your favorite pair of shoes? White, as are all my favorite pairs to wear.

What style are your favorite pair of pants? Denim, mom jeans.

Do you like shorts or jeans more? It’s definitely a lot comfier to wear shorts, but it’s frequently hard to find one that suits my style so I don’t own a lot of them.

Do your socks match more than not? I never wear socks anymore lol.

Do you like wearing hats? I would probably enjoy wearing them if I invested in them, but for the most part there’s a bunch of other stuff I’d rather spend my money on.

List the songs that come up on your iPod/mp3 shuffle: I’ll just put my Spotify on shuffle based on the last song I listened to:

1. Grow Up - Paramore

2. Simmer - Hayley Williams

3. Escape Route - Paramore

4. Pool - Paramore

5. Ain’t It Fun - Paramore (I guess I had my angry!Paramore playlist on last...I could swear I was recently playing BTS though, lmao. Oh well)

6. I’m Not Angry Anymore - Paramore

7. Playing God - Paramore

8. Moving On - Paramore

9. Forgiveness - Paramore

10. Rose-Colored Boy - Paramore

Favorite movie by genre:

Comedy: Not a big comedy buff but I do have a soft spot for White Chicks, hahaha. The jokes have so far never failed to make me laugh.

War: Gone With the Wind.

Horror: I’ll have to go with The Shining or the original Carrie for this. I can’t even tell you the last time I was able to watch The Shining all the way through; I always get disturbed enough to turn it off at a certain point. That alone makes it great for me.

Romance: If we’re talking full-on romance and not romcom, probably The Vow. That and Portrait of a Lady on Fire.

Rom-Com: The Proposal, Love Actually, Roman Holiday, Funny Face, and Two for the Road.

Animated: Toy Story.

Drama: Revolutionary Road, without a doubt. Room and The Reader are great as well.

Foreign: I mean...all English-language movies are foreign to me lmao so I guess I’ll go with my all-time favorite? Two for the Road.

Suspense: Eh, not really a fan. I guess I’ll go with Gone Girl.

Musical: Even more so not a fan, but I do love My Fair Lady. I remember being super excited to view La La Land thinking it would just have some songs squished in between scenes, so I was disappointed when the first scene was literally a song number.

Documentary: Jiro Dreams of Sushi was life-changing. I’m glad one of my home ec teachers introduced us to the full docu in one of our classes.

Sports: Not a fan.

Religious: The Exorcist, if we can stretch what ‘religious’ means hahahaha

Family: Let’s just go with Toy Story again.

Holiday: It’s A Wonderful Life, and Love Actually again!

Black and White: Not really a genre lol, but Roman Holiday.

Historical: Schindler’s List. I guess Steve Jobs can also kinda technically count as historical even though it covers a super modern period. The screenplay in that movie was *chef’s kiss*

Based On True Events: Spotlight.

Classic: Gone with the Wind.

Book to Screen: Revolutionary Road, though I’ve never read the book.

Adult animated: Anomalisa.

Thriller: Misery.

Western: Ew hahahaha bye

Food:

How do you like your pizza? Very simple. The less toppings the better,

Do you put parmesean cheese on pasta? If there’s some available, yeah.

What is your ideal salad? With chunks of tuna sashimi and spicy mayo.

Which is your favorite kind of macaroni & cheese? Isn’t macaroni and cheese just...that? Hahaha I’m not aware of any other kinds of it; I don’t get to have mac and cheese a lot.

Which juice is your favorite? I find some of the more exotic ones actually taste nice and don’t taste too overpowering, like guyabano.

What do you dip your french fries in? Mayonnaise, or any kind of sauce that has mayo mixed in it.

Which is your favorite kind of pie? I usually gravitate towards savory ones; doesn’t matter what kind.

Milk chocolate, dark chocolate or white chocolate? Milk > white > dark.

How do you take your coffee? Creamy and milky.

Crab legs, shrimp, or lobster tail? Crab or lobster. Not the biggest fan of shrimp and I’d honestly pass on it if I could, but if it were the only seafood being served I wouldn’t mind getting one or two. But generally, the flavor doesn’t do much for me and I hate that they’re usually too small hahaha.

Steak medium rare or well done? Ultra rare.

If you said well done you can see yourself out. Lmao damn, I love steak but I’m not a gatekeeper...

Do you grow any of your own food? No, never really tried doing so.

If you do, which is your favorite to eat?

Name 4 foreign dishes you want to try. Can’t really name exact names of dishes off the top of my head, but some cuisines I have yet to try and would love to are African (in general), Brazilian, Sri Lankan, and Swedish.

Do you like guacamole? It’s fine. Not super common here, and I wouldn’t seek it out even if I were despeately hungry.

What is your go to snack? Corndogs or spicy tuna salad.

Do you prefer mustard or cheese on a soft pretzel? Cheese. Hate mustard.

Do you like oysters? Looooooooove them, but they’re kinda expensive so I don’t get to have them a lot. I usually settle for mussels.

How do you eat them? I’m down for any kind of oyster dish.

What kind of pasta is your favorite? Fettuccine.

Favorite alcoholic beverage, if you're of age? Long Island Iced Tea or some kind of fruity, sweet cocktail.

Favorite cold beverage? Cold water or soju.

Favorite type of junk food? Pizza always.

What could you eat every single day? Literally spicy tuna salad. I wish I could have one right now :(((

What food do you hate the most? Fruits or raisins.

Are you a good cook? Hahahaha, not at all. If I’m having a craving I usually have to have it ordered for delivery.

What is your favorite thing to make?

How do you eat oreos? I never eat the actual cookies because I had them a million times as a kid and now I’m sick of them. I do love Oreo-flavored stuff, like milkshakes and cheesecakes.

#survey #surveys

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teenytinystorage · 5 years ago

Text

Operation Double Date

Remus wants to ask Deceit out on a date, and he attempts to do exactly that in quite possibly the dumbest way ever. Logan and Virgil are there too.

Warnings: Multiple food mentions, multiple death mentions (but just as humor, no one actually dies), cannibalism mention, censored cursing, inappropriate remarks, Remus being Remus (aka one murder mention & a non-descriptive amputation mention), minor anxiety/panic depictions

Word Count: 4,720

Genre: RomCom

Pairings: Demus/Dukeceit + Platonic Analogical

I hope y’all like my first comedy-centric fic!! Enjoy :>

Virgil scoffed. “You do realize this is a terrible plan, right?”

Remus started to pace.

“Quite so,” Logan added, “Why can’t you just court him yourself?”

“Because, uh… I don’t know! I don’t know if he likes me or not and this just seems like a better solution!”

“First of all, me and L aren’t even together,” Virgil leaned his head back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

“And even if we were,” Logan started.

“--Theoretically.”

“--Yes, theoretically romantic partners, I wouldn’t surmise that either of us would be content with going to a clamorous production for our first outing.”

“It’d give me too much social anxiety and Lo just isn’t the type for loud metal music. And ‘Cobra’ would totally get suspicious about it! He may be a clueless moron, but he’s not a fool.”

“Hey, only I can use Cobra for his nickname! It’s mine,” Remus pouted, hurling his hands towards the ground.

“Virgil’s correct, though. So why is this a better solution again?” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Listen, could you guys just do this one favor for me?” Remus threw his hands up. “It’ll work great. He loves spying out and being all sneaky and cute and stuff. Virgil is his nemesis and Logan, you’re my nemesis, so it’ll be a great spying session together! It’ll be perfect! It’ll be like we’re not even on a date at all. Casual.”

Virgil and Logan still weren’t convinced.

“You guys still owe me for the bottle of Hidden Valley ranch I chugged last week that you bet I couldn’t chug,” Remus aimed an accusatory pointer finger at Logan and Virgil.

“We never bet that,” Logan pointed out. “You just wanted to guzzle ranch dressing like you would a glass of water after a temperate summer day, and we watched you do it, in front of us. It was deplorable.”

“I still have chills from seeing that,” Virgil shivered. “Ugh..”

Remus defeatedly sighed. “Okay, okay, I get it. You guys are right. But please? I really want to go out with him but I have no idea how he feels about me and I’m too scared he’ll say no. Could you just please do this for me?”

“Wait, let me get this right, let me make sure I’ve got this one-hundred percent down,” Virgil lifted his hand. “So you want me and Logan to go on a concert ‘date’ to see bands we don’t know and don’t care about when we aren’t even together just so you can convince Deceit to come spy on us with you so you can nonchalantly go on a casual date with him and then… what, go out with him?”

A pause. “Yes.”

Logan immediately replied “No.”

“Please! I’ll pay for the tickets. And the concessions. And the band shirts too! It’ll be fun! Please???”

The two started to consider it, albeit reluctantly.

“And I’ll never drink another bottle of ranch ever again.”

“You got a deal,” Virgil nodded.

Remus lit up with a beaming smile, shaking his arms and squealing, almost bouncing right off the carpet.

Virgil leaned over to Logan. “It’s weird to see him excited like this. It’s like he’s Patton or something.”

“Agreed. Him being expressive in wholesome emotions is as common an occurrence as aerodynamic swine.”

“Thank you so so so much!” Remus cheered, running over to the couch and lifting up both Logan and Virgil in a ginormous bear hug. Swol.

“Yep-- sure thing, can you please put us down now?” Virgil choked out.

“Oh. Right.” Remus dropped the two of them back onto the couch.

“So this shall be occurring Friday evening?” Logan confirmed, fixing his glasses that were askew from the landing.

“According to the schedule, yeah! I’ll bring over the tickets by tomorrow. Thank youuuu~!”

“You’re, reluctantly, welcome,” Logan nodded.

“I’ll take it!” Remus shouted as he immediately sunk down into his room.

And thus began the terrible plan.

It started off simple enough. The plan was set into motion the day Remus bought the four tickets, two for the “couple” and another two for himself and Deceit. He then decided to approach the matter of asking Deceit to go spy with him in a nonchalant, calm, put-together, casual way.

“Deceit, Deceit, you won’t belieeeeve what I heard Virgil and Logan are doing this Fridayyyy!” Remus yelled, just having risen up into Deceit’s room.

Deceit set down the book he was in the middle of reading. “What did you hear?”

“Oh my gosh!” Remus pranced over, rolling himself over the top of Deceit’s couch and collapsing onto its cushions stomach-down, holding his chin in his hands and waving his legs back and forth. “I heard that they’re going out on a date together!”

Deceit crossed his left leg over his right one, holding his hands together in his lap. “Really?”

“I swear, it’s true! I just overheard them. Oh it was so sweet and adorable and disgusting. You should’ve heard the cutesy things Virgil said to Logan, you would’ve love-hated it so much.”

Deceit started to smirk. “Truly horrid. Did you happen to hear where they were going?”

Remus cackled loudly. “Ohohoh, you bet I did! They’re going to the punk band concert across town. We have got to go and see what they’re doing out there!”

“Certainly,” Deceit agreed. “I remember the outdoor concert stage has a chain-link fence around it that we can hide behind to watch through. You remember, from the other time we spied on Virgil?”

“There’s no need for scouting around fences and thorny bushes!” Remus grinned, flaunting two tickets in his hand. “I already bought us tickets.”

“My my, Squid, such a rascal!” Deceit teased. “We are absolutely going.”

Remus smiled pridefully. His plan was working!

Now all that was left was the entire rest of the plan and making sure this thing didn’t hit the fan. Oh, right. Whoops. Remus forgot about that.

About a half-hour before the performance was when the actual plan’s doings started.

Remus, Logan, and Virgil all met outside the concert entrance by the chain-link fence. And Remus, to say the least, was disappointed.

“You two look like this is some Saturday lazy-day shindig!” Remus scoffed.

“I thought this was a casual gathering, wasn’t it?” Logan asked, dressed in a checkered flannel short-sleeve and denim jeans.

“Yeah, but you’re too casual! Where’s the style, the finesse, the pizazz? I’d wear these outfits to my own court trial, and that is not a good thing!”

“What’s wrong with casual?” Virgil asked, dressed in an oversized black hoodie and black jeans.

“You’re supposed to be going on a date together!”

“So?” Logan continued.

“These outfits!” Remus gestured madly. “They aren’t date-worthy!”

“You’re not that fancily dressed either, Mr. Only-Tuxes-On-Dates.”

Virgil was justified in that comment, seeing as Remus was dressed in a thin gray tank top and short black biker shorts, the combat boots he wore not adding anything to his leg coverage.

“Deceit doesn’t know that this is a-- oh whatever. You two know what to do, right?”

“As in what to do in order to imply that Virgil and I have romantic relations with one another?” Logan affirmed.

“Yes. Holding hands, leaning on the shoulder, maybe a peck on the cheek if you’re feeling a bit special. Got it?”

“Sure. Don’t expect me to be all touchy-feely, though,” Virgil shrugged. “That’d just make Deceit even more suspicious.”

Remus peered over his shoulder and quickly panicked. “He’s coming!”

“Speak of the devil,” Logan commented.

“Here’s your twenty bucks, spend it on whatever you’d like,” Remus shoved a twenty dollar bill towards Virgil, who grabbed it hastily and stuffed it in his hoodie pocket. “Ok, good? Go to the stage! Quickly!” Remus stammered out, shoving Logan and Virgil towards the concert entrance that was decked out with metal detectors and security and all.

“You’re welcome,” Virgil snidely remarked, before walking away saying “You know idioms, L?”

“I do know some.”

Remus then started to nervously whistle as Logan and Virgil entered the stage together, his whistling having added nothing to the cool persona he tried to assume as he leaned on the chain-link fence, one foot up and the other on the ground, and tilted his head up towards the starry night sky, a.k.a. Cool Guy 101, despite being in Florida heat and not being any bit ventilated whatsoever.

He quickly snuck a few glances at Deceit, who slowly approached the stage with his hands in his leather jacket pockets, his Converse-clad feet stepping against the sidewalk, his black jean-clad legs swishing against each other, his hair that was tucked into a floppy black hat waving slightly as he walked, and he still didn’t notice Remus yet on his way over.

He then, soon after, did notice Remus and lit up with a sly smile. Remus, in turn, gave back the same sly smile. Or at least he thought it was sly; maybe his smile pertained more to those exuberant drool-dripping bulldog beamings than it did a smile of a Cool Guy 101.

“Can you believe that they’d have such good taste for venues?” Deceit greeted. “I’d suspect they would’ve taken a spot at the local Barnes & Noble for their first date, if not a dusty old library filled with mites.”

“Right? That or an abandoned haunted house,” Remus added, causing Deceit to add a chuckle in response. “I just saw them go in!”

“Well then, we have to follow along!” Deceit locked his arm in Remus’s and speedily guided them over to the concert entrance, to which Remus immediately panicked because OH GEEZ ALMIGHTY HE GRABBED ONTO MY ARM ALREADY THIS IS GOING WAY BETTER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD.

They handed over their two tickets, explored the concessions venue and the merch stands, both of which being insanely overpriced (as Deceit put it, “I could buy a car for the same price of this whole merchandise stand,” and as Remus put it, “I could bail myself out of jail for manslaughter with that much”), and eventually grabbed their standing spots near the back left of the crowd, a perfect viewpoint for the middle right spot Virgil and Logan managed to nab.

Perfect! The plan was going great. Now just to make sure the concert went well, and that Virgil and Logan didn’t mess this whole romance thing up before Remus did (or more than Remus already had). Oh boy.

As the night continued and as the real spying began, it became painstakingly obvious that Deceit could tell something was off.

“They aren’t even holding hands,” Deceit whisper-yelled under the blare of the speakers that just were starting to rev back up once another punk band took the stage, dyed mohawks and piercings and all. “You’d think they’d be more like--” Deceit quickly grabbed Remus’s hand and lifted it in the air, cheering loudly “Wooo!”

And as Deceit grabbed his hand and lifted it into the air, Remus started to feel himself slip into what is diagnosed clinically as the terrifying “gay panic,” and if the crowd cheering and the guitar riffs weren’t as loud, his cursed emoji heavy breathing would be the loudest noise at the concert.

Deceit then quickly let go of Remus’s hand afterward, giving Remus a moment for his heart to restart from its brief 5k marathon inside his ribcage.

There were a few of those moments interspersed between blaring music and Deceit’s skittish gossip, such gossip being:

“Do you see that? Only halfway through do they even brush palms. What is this, some sort of middle school dance?” Deceit chittered.

Remus, of course, laughed and agreed outwardly, but inwardly he ran over to Logan and Virgil and slapped them so hard their faces turned as pink as a rare-cooked filet. No, not rare, an uncooked filet. How could they mess something as easy as holding hands and shoulder leaning up so bad?!

Although, thankfully, Deceit never seemed suspicious of this activity or doubtful of them going out together; he just gossiped about it and made scathing commentary of the two sides, which was pretty funny to listen to.

It was also strangely personal and revealing as well.

“If this is the stuff that passes for a romantic relationship, we might as well already be married,” Deceit commented at one point during the show when the final band was being announced.

“Hah! Right?” Remus agreed, but he was, once again, dying of gay panic internally. Did Deceit mean anything by that, getting married?! Send some clear signals here, dude, Remus cursed internally, ‘cause right now they’re more mixed than a Russian roulette bowl of M&Ms and Skittles and aquarium gravel! And Remus would only willingly eat one of those! (Hint, it’s not the edible options.)

Deceit gave a short chuckle in response before ushering him and Remus out of the concert hall so Logan and Virgil wouldn’t find them spying.

“Thanks for taking me along to spy,” Deceit bopped Remus in the arm, grinning, as they walked out. “That was fun!”

“Yeah!” Remus smiled widely, his teeth shining through his pointed lips. “We’ve got to do this again!”

“For sure. Let me know when they’ve got another ‘date,’” Deceit used air quotes, causing Remus to let out a hearty belly laugh in response.

“Seeya,” Deceit waved his hand and started to walk back home.

“Bye.”

Remus stared in lovesick longing, holding onto the part of his arm that Deceit bopped. Remus wondered if he could amputate the arm and keep it in his room to admire. He can regenerate limbs, right? He’s technically imaginary. It’d be like refusing to wash your face after someone pecks you on the cheek, except even gorier and also very much creepier.

Before he could decide that, though, the concert hall emptied into the sidewalk and across the various crosswalks around the busy street. And soon enough Logan and Virgil walked out together, arm-locked-in-arm, talking together.

They then spotted Remus and saw no Deceit around. Virgil slipped his arm out of Logan’s and headed over.

“So how was your ‘playdate’?” Virgil mocked.

“Hah!” Remus cackled, “If anyone was play-dating out there, it was you two. I can’t even count the number of times he pointed out how virginal you both were for holding hands!”

“Personally I thought we were quite convincing as a romantic pair,” Logan commented, “Not all couples have to be favorable towards PDA, you know.”

“Sure, sure. But where’s the fun in that?” Remus shrugged.

“Whatever. We went to your concert and did your date thing,” Virgil grumbled. “At least it’s over now.”

A car zoomed by, kicking loose gravel up onto the sidewalk.

“Go on another date!” Remus blurted out.

“What?” Logan and Virgil uttered at the same moment.

“You have to!” Remus started. “I told Deceit that we’d have to go on another one of our spying sessions and it’d be stupid to say that you went on just one date together!”

“We only acceded to one date,” Logan started.

“And if you aren’t little b*tches, you can go on another,” Remus scoffed. “How hard can it be?”

“hOw hArD CaN It bE?” Virgil mocked. “I think I’m gonna lose my hearing by 40 thanks to that scream-fest if you’re that curious.”

“That still means you got a good 10 years left. And you might as well go on another! It’ll be fun. And hey, you guys can go somewhere you’d like this time. My treat.”

“Your treat my a**,” Virgil huffed.

“I’m assuming nowhere in the house nor at any public library counts as an ideal date spot to you.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“No, actually, those could work.” Remus’s eyes brightened up. “Yeah! Those could work!”

“Wait, really? You were just talking about how we were supposed to be wearing suit-jackets to this concert thing, like, 2 hours ago.” Virgil tilted his head. “How can either of those places meet your standards, oh modern reincarnate of Eros himself?”

“I’m flattered by that, Virgin Sanders,” Remus bowed, Virgil grumbling all the same, “but really, where were you thinking of inside the house?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Your room, Virgil?” Logan turned to the anxious side, who just shrugged and mumbled in response “Sure.”

“Great!” Remus clapped. “This’ll be great. Me and Dee already know the best hiding spots there where no one can find us, so that’ll be a piece of cake.”

“How do you know th--”

“That’s beside the point!” Remus interrupted. “That is a fabulous idea! Oooh, I’ll have to tell Dee all about this. Thank you thank you thank youuuuu~! Toodaloo!” Remus cheered, waving his hand and briskly walking down the sidewalk and back to the house, thinking all the while about the next date.

“Seriously, how do Remus and Deceit know where to hide in my room?”

Now, of course, the second date went on as the first did. Deceit and Remus spied on Logan and Virgil doing vaguely friend/couple things, Deceit mocked them a few times and Remus narrowly avoided death from gay panic much more than a few times.

But, of course, there had to be the inevitable “Let me know when they’ve got another date” from Deceit at the end of the spying session.

And, okay, sure, Remus and Logan and Virgil only agreed on one more date, but Remus thought that it should be fine to violate that plan for just one more, right? Also Remus has no self-control and it’d be easier for him to find a frog with sixty legs than to deny himself.

“No! How many times do we have to tell you this?” Virgil groaned.

“Pleaseeee!!!” Remus whined, “I swear, this’ll be the last oneeeee!”

“That’s precisely what you promised when you brought a raccoon into the living room last week before you proceeded to bring in four more throughout the rest of the week.” Logan regarded. “How can we possibly confide in your claim this time?”

“But it’s fuuuuuuun for you twooooo…” Remus fussed, collapsing onto the floor like a toddler having a tantrum in the middle of a grocery store because mom said no fruit snacks. “And it’s fun for me and Deeeee…”

“You know what?” Virgil threw his hands up. “Fine. If we go on another date and it’ll make you stop whining, we’ll do it. But just one more.”

Little did Virgil know him and Logan would proceed to go on three more dates together.

The whole situation escalated from a movie date to hanging out in Logan’s room playing board games to a high class dinner, fancy clothing requirement and all. How Remus convinced them to go? No one knows.

(He said he’d pay with Thomas’s credit card and he dressed them both up all fancy-like for free with the finest of the mindspace boutique, aka Roman dressed them and Remus dolled over them the whole time.)

In the end, Logan and Virgil did indeed end up going on a “date” to an ornate restaurant together, dressed in usual navy blue tie and black polo with an added white suit jacket and a purple button-up with a black tie and a black suit jacket respectively. The shiny crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the dainty white tablecloths and the five types of forks and spoons on the table that were ultimately exactly the same made the fact that the date was forced slightly more bearable. But not by much.

“Can you believe this? Virgil fumed, seconds away from chopping himself in half like a piece of Wagyu filet. “We only ever agreed on one, and now we’re on our fifth date, thanks to that dumb duke.”

“Personally I don’t entirely mind these get-togethers. In essence they’re more platonic dates than anything.”

“But he’s making us do this! Go on dates! Act like a couple, like we’re some sort of— puppets!” Virgil whisper-yelled, clutching his fists together on the dainty table cloth.

“I really don’t understand what’s the cause of your endless frustration, Virgil. Sure Remus has been a bit critical of our ‘performances,’ if you’ll call them that, but these are really just friend hangouts. We don’t even go out much anyways,” Logan reasoned, stirring around a gold-trim patterned bowl of French onion soup.

Virgil grumbled, putting his head down on the table.

Meanwhile, Remus and Deceit sat a few tables across and watched the madness transpire like you would watch a matador from the spectator stands let chaos run face-first into them, except replace the matador with someone from the stands and that’s more accurate to the kind of madness that was going on.

“I wonder what dear Virgil is so upset about?” Deceit pondered, his chin resting in his hands as he watched, not at all discreetly, the two dining.

“Oh pFF, he’s probably mad that he’s here instead of at his MCR concert,” Remus sputtered out, anxiously watching Logan and Virgil bicker senselessly a bit across from them.

Virgil, at the same time, felt himself slipping into hysteria. “This is all Remus’s fault! He’s doing this for himself! Doesn’t even care how we feel—”

“Virgil, calm down—”

“I do not need to calm down!”

A waiter walked by Deceit and Remus’s table, refilling their water glasses.

Deceit watched Logan and Virgil in what seemed like excited delight, a rather creepy sight for anyone at the nearby tables, while Remus, the obviously creepier one of the two, watched in anxious wait, bouncing his leg up and down on the softly carpeted floor.

Up and down went Remus’s leg, over and over, as his mind started to race. Would Deceit catch Remus in this lie? Would he finally found out that this whole mess was a contrived scheme in order for Remus to stealthily evade Deceit’s possible rejection? And what if Deceit did reject him once he found out? Would Remus die of grief? Would he spontaneously combust? Would he have to get a new identity and move to New Jersey?!

“Remus,” Deceit interrupted, and Remus’s head twisted back over quickly.

“Huh?”

“You seem uneasy,” Deceit said, his concern lacing his words like ribbons on gifts. “Are you quite alright?”

“Huh? Lil ol’ me? Of course!” Remus smiled lopsidedly, his leg still bouncing on the ground.

Deceit tapped Remus’s leg with his foot. “If this is any proof, you very clearly aren’t.”

Remus mounted his leg on the ground. “Just excitedly waiting in anticipation, that’s all! I can’t wait to see what will happen next with Logan and Virgil.”

Deceit squinted his eyes. “I hope you think I’m not stupid enough to believe that.”

“No, uh!!-- I don’t think you’re stupid--” Remus stammered out.

“Come on, let’s go outside for a minute, shall we?” Deceit stood up from the table, brushing off his suit jacket buttoned tightly over his yellow button-down.

Remus stood up as well, twisting the edge of his black suit jacket around his fingers.

Deceit led Remus outside, and at that point the moon had already awoken to begin the night. A dark cloak blanketed the sky as tiny snowflake stars dotted the night. A light breeze flowed through the air as Deceit and Remus walked over to a white metal bench in front of the restaurant. They both sat down as a car drove past.

“Should we have not come to spy here?” Deceit asked.

“No, no, it was a great idea,” Remus reassured, eyes fixed ahead.

Deceit frowned. “You can tell me if it wasn’t.”

Remus took in a breath, about to admit to Deceit the whole reason these spying sessions existed, aka about to do something without thinking, aka about to follow the same line of thinking he has when he does anything. “Dee--”

That is, he was going to do that, until a scream shattered the air. “DECEIT!” it cried.

The yell came from Virgil, who had madly burst through the doors and approached their bench, and Logan was not far behind.

“Oh sh*t,” Deceit cussed under his breath. “Our cover’s blown.”

Remus, meanwhile, was wondering if a bolt of lightning was about to hit him because of the awful luck he was having.

“You never had any ‘cover’ to begin with,” Virgil huffed. “We’ve known that you two were here since the beginning.”

“What?” Deceit stared confusedly. “How?”

“How? HOW?! Are you really that dumb?!?” Virgil accused, causing Deceit to gasp daintily and, of course, in great offense to Virgil’s statement. “Remus forced us to go on these dates so he could avoid asking you to go out with him! Me and Logan aren’t even together! So now you two spy on us while me and Logan were dragged along to be the reason you two could hang out!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a comedian, Virgil.”

“He’s right,” Remus admitted, his head slumped towards the ground.

“Wait, really?” Deceit turned towards Remus.

“Yeah..” Remus frowned, looking up at Deceit.

“So you set up all of these dates for Logan and Virgil just so we could hang out because you were scared that I’d reject you otherwise?”

Remus nodded shamefully.

“Oh, Squid,” Deceit whimpered. “You know I never judge you for anything, right?”

Remus turned away, his head pointed back at the ground.

Deceit sorted through his words, assembling them into meaningful sentences like scattered puzzle pieces into a complete picture. “What I’m saying is, yes. I will go out with you. And…” Remus turned to Deceit. “...I’m rather honored to have been given this much of your dedication.”

Remus met Deceit’s eyes and brightened up immediately, his smile resembling those wide, cheery smiles of dribbly-drooly but still charming bulldogs.

Deceit gave a small grin back in return.

“Alright lovebirds, are we going back inside now or what? A bowl of French onion soup is waiting for me and I wanna get my money’s worth.”

“Hmph. Fine,” Deceit pouted. “Let’s go then. I personally want to try some Wagyu beef, don’t you, Remus?”

“Yeah! Say, have you seen that video where people talk about if there was a Wagyu program for humans and if they’d join it or not?” Remus stood, taking Deceit’s arm in his.

“I haven’t, please tell me more,” Deceit stood as well, him and Remus walking back inside the glassy restaurant doors.

“Alright,” Virgil started, “Now that that’s sorted, let’s get back in. It’s cold and I saw they have pasta here, and you know that I’d die for good pasta,” Virgil headed back towards the door, hands stuffed in his dress pants pockets.

“I certainly do know that,” Logan trailed behind. “What kind of pasta do they serve?”

“Get this, spaghetti carbonara.”

“That’s it, we’re ordering two plates,” Logan declared.

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, possibly three. The third being for takeout. If they offer that option.”

“There’s my pasta nerd,” Virgil smirked.

The two of them headed back into the sparkly clean restaurant doors, no longer as a pretend couple but now as friends, and really, that was quite a relief.

The rest of the meal went well. Deceit and Remus were pleasantly surprised by the Wagyu (although Remus did make an offhand comment about the portion size of the steak being smaller than cow d*ck and how it probably actually was cow d*ck) and Virgil and Logan did indeed order three plates of pasta and managed to finish all three since the restaurant didn’t do takeout and because they didn’t find that out until after they got their food and they weren’t about to waste a good plate of pasta.

After the meal, instead of Deceit’s usual comment of “Let me know when Virgil and Logan go on another date together,” Deceit just smiled and said “This was fun!”

“Yeah, it was!” Remus smiled back, his teeth beaming through his pointed lips.

“So, would next Tuesday work for our next outing?” Deceit asked.

Remus nodded excitedly. “Yep!”

“Perfect. Say, how about we go to the reptile expo across town? I heard it was going to be all next week.”

“I love it! They won’t notice if we take a python or two home with us, will they?”

Deceit burst out laughing. “Oh Squid, you’re such a hoot!”

And Remus just smiled and laughed along, because now this wasn’t Logan and Virgil’s date anymore, it was their date and their date alone.

#i had a ton of fun writing this bdjehd #lmk what yall think!! this is my first comedy centered fic after all #enjoy!!! :))#long fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides comedy#deceit sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #food mention #dukeceit #demus sanders sides #demus #romantic demus #platonic analogical

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