#I really hope he finds what he's looking for and that it makes him happy

[baepsays]

BE MY VALENTINE -`♡´- ⸻ JJK MEN x READER

description⊹♡ valentine's day with different jujustu kaisen men.

pairings⊹♡ Geto Suguru x reader, Nanami Kento x reader, Fushiguro Toji x reader, Kamo Choso x reader, Higuruma Hiromi x reader, Ryomen Sukuna x reader, Gojo Satoru x reader cw⊹♡ oral sex (m! receiving & f! receiving), face riding, grinding/dry humping, lot of dirty talk, uses of pet names, finger fucking, squirting, some spit action :3c, overstimulation, breeding kink, secret relationship, established relationships, degradation, mean name calling (i.e., slut), TEASING!, fem oriented reader in some scenarios, uses of fem pronouns in some scenarios,

a/n: playlist by yours truly, songs in order of each character. my valentine's gift to you guys <3 (let's hope there is not many mistakes i have not proof read half of it)

GETO SUGURU જ⁀➴ ♡ I'm tuned into that pussy, so don't touch the door

Having a musician for a boyfriend is hard. Especially when you're not really a public figure yourself. And it's harder during certain holidays to see each other, one of those days is valentine's day.

You almost lost all hope when all of the plans you two made started to fall short one by one. It wasn’t until at the end of the day, when you fully gave up on seeing Suguru, someone rang your doorbell. You were expecting the food ordered, and instead it was a huge figure clad in all black, mask and sunglasses on his face, and a hat covering his head. From afar— or up close really— it would seem like a burglar, but also what burglar rings the doorbell and patiently waits to be let in. But you've been in this situation before, so it was not surprising when the guy just picked you up on his shoulder and walked right in like it was his own apartment. 

“Goodness Sugu, give me a warning first.” you whined, despite the smile stretching on your face. “Wouldn’t be a surprise then sugar.” 

In a flash he dropped the bouquet, and bags filled with gifts, by the door. Then he threw his phone on the couch before walking into the bedroom. It always brought you to awe, having one of the biggest musicians and rockstars, stripping in your humble apartment. “At least eat and freshen up first.” you chuckled, leaning back up on your elbows, “You say that yet you are ogling me like a piece of meat.” he said with a half smile. 

“Gotta give you a banger before valentine’s day is over.” 

That’s how you ended up kneeling on the floor, sucking Suguru’s cock— despite his complaints. Yet here he was, throwing his head back in pleasure and shoving your head down on his cock. Suguru may not be a big moaner, but he is one to whine and a grunt. “Come on sugar, you can take more. I know you can.” Suguru tangled his fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp with one hand and pushing his cock down your throat by your neck. Drawing out little tears from the corner of your eyes. “Aw. my poor baby, can’t take more?” you hum with your lips touching the base of his cock, drool spilling and pooling around him, as you look up at him; praying the big doe eyes work on him to have some mercy on you. 

“You are going to disappoint me sugar? Hmm?” he pauses to let out a grunt then continues. “I snuck out of work for you, got you your favorite flowers and all those gifts, and you are telling me a few weeks away from me and your throat has forgotten my shape? You wound me.” 

So, to disprove his point, you use your occupied mouth to answer him— by putting one of your hands on his solid thighs and the other on his hard abdomen, almost finding comfort on his soft happy trail— and bobbing your head up and down on his dick. Which results in him throwing his head back with a really loud grunt this time, echoing through your walls. “Th-there goes— Hah— my superstar.” 

Suguru’s body starts recoiling, as one of his hands finds itself on the base of your throat, feeling the stretch of his cock going in and out of the tight canal. He slides one of his foot to rub your panty clad cunt, making you moan and whimper, as you take him out of your mouth to lick around and press your tongue on his tip, while you jerk him off with both of your hands. As you continue to grind on his leg, lick and pump his cock— he shoots ropes of cum all over your face and shoves himself back in your mouth to let you get a taste of the rest of it, heavy and twitching on your tongue. 

Just as you swallow his cum and he pulls you up to his lap, his phone starts ringing in your living room. Suguru continues to kiss you and suck around your neck, unbothered, because he knows it is from his manager. The phone keeps on ringing; one missed call, two missed calls, three missed calls—  on the fourth call, you shift to get off of him and get his phone. When he slams you down on your bed and pressed himself against you.

“Do not even dare to open that door.”

NANAMI KENTO જ⁀➴ ♡ he's taking me to cloud nine

Finding a man who genuinely wanted to be with you, these days, was not an easy task. If you're a person who wants to settle down with someone by 30, have kids by 32 and retire by 60—then you are bound to lose some hope after going on dates, ending up in situationships after situationships, and of course, getting ghosted. So, when you met Nanami Kento, it just felt too good to be true.

You met him through a mutual friend, as you were on a cafe date with your friend and he happened to be there as well. When she introduced you two, you still remember the tightening in your stomach and the shiver that ran down your spine, as he shook your hand. While you debated with yourself the entire day about asking your friend for his number—he texted you. And you just knew, if you had to put a number on it, he was a perfect ten (or maybe your standards have become too low after dating garbage men).

After the most perfect first date, he made sure to show you what a standard should be—way above the bare minimum. And everytime you would doubt yourself or the relationship the two of you started to foster, he would make sure to break down such doubts with vehement confidence that you were it for him. He made sure to tell you that he wants to be exclusive with you on the very first date, got you flowers every week, got you personally baked goods, had you over at his place for a home cooked meal, reassured you that if you did not want to do anything more than making out, then he would not ever mind that— he wanted to be with you on your terms, at the condition of having you all to himself. And you could not believe how you manifested him.

It has now been 1.5 months since you two became an item. And this valentine’s day you wanted to take the leap and have this man nail you down. 

It was the most picture perfect day, and at the end of it when he parked his car in front of your building, you made sure to drag him in with you. “Are you sure about this honey?” he sighed in your mouth, the grip of his arms getting tighter around your waist “more than sure Ken.” you said, as you dove back in to kiss him.

Nanami had you sprawled on your bed, one hand holding himself up to not crush you with his weight and the other pressing you further into the soft sheets by your waist. “I am asking this one last time sweetheart, are you sure? Because if we progress, it might be hard for me to hold back.” Nanami asked you with the most gentle tone, looking softly into your own clouded eyes, his forehead resting on yours— “I have never been more sure about anything in my life. Please Ken.” you whined as you pulled back on your lips, “just so you know, i might not be so gentle, but rest assured if you want to stop any moment, i would not hesitate to do so.” and you nodded along to him, i mean how could you have known an angel like Nanami Kento could be such a freak in the sheets— in his defense, he did warn you. 

Kento had both of your legs hanging on his shoulders, as his fingers dug and left a mark around your hips. Who knew Nanami was the guy to leave marks all over his significant other’s body, except places easily seen by others. “You there with me love?” he said with his face buried in the crook of your neck, voice hoarse from all that grunting he did on your cunt when he ate you out like you two did not have an excellent dinner just earlier. Probably also why you just laid there overstimulated out of your mind, to answer him with words. All you could fathom was a low hum, as he continued to thrust into you. Before this you’ve only felt his dick through his pants, and even then you knew he was hung; but having him in his sheer naked glory, nailing the shit out of you—as you wanted— you were perplexed how did he even fit himself inside you. 

“You need to use your words sweetheart.” he said with a mean thrust as he let one of his hands go from your waist to your head, holding your face up by the chin to look into his eyes. “Ca-can’t Ke-n” you mumbled somehow, while your vision started to lose focus. “Yes you can. Be a good girl for your Ken, and tell me what you want.” he demanded with each thrust closing down of your cervix, making you almost go numb. 

“Please Ken. harder. Your cock. more” you uttered somehow, arms tightening around his biceps.

“Filthy little mouth you’ve got on you honey, like your filthy pussy gripping onto me” he paused to get out a grunt “you hear her? She sure has been waiting for me huh?” Nanami said in a patronizing tone. 

You were in no condition to say anything more, as you vehemently twitched and frailed around under him, feeling the tip of his thick cock hitting your cervix at an tremendous speed and impact. “Want—god— me to make you cum love?” you somehow managed to  nod a yes, “Anything. Just anything and everything for you.”

And with those last words from Nanami, and one of his hand rubbing circles on your clit, you came undone around his cock. The waves of spasm and squelching noise between your bodies, drove him near his own climax as he continued to pump in and out of you through your release. He bottomed out for a second and flatly laid in your arms, letting your twitching legs down his legs and gathering your limb body in his arms. He kissed every feature on your face and whispered praises in your ears, as you got down the glowing high of your third orgasm of the night. Your eyes started to close, consciousness slowly drifting away, when Ken whispered in your ears—

“I must apologize, love, but I cannot let you sleep just yet. ” he pressed a soft kiss on the shell of your ear, as hips started moving again. “Your pretty cunt just got simply acquainted with me, I must leave a better impression on her, ”

FUSHIGURO TOJI જ⁀➴ ♡ just take what's yours, don't run from it

Imagine getting broken up with a week before valentine's week. Then doing overtime for the entire week, and having to go on a business trip with the coworker you cannot go a second without getting into a disagreement (sure let’s call it that). You were forced to spend the day before and the day of Valentine's Day doing work, but you were also thankful to be busy on the eve, otherwise you might have spent the day rotting on the couch and wallowing in your misery. 

And yet of all the people you couldn’t have guessed at the end of the business trip, Fushiguro Toji would take you out for dinner and pay for a meal. Apparently he made a reservation and everything, in a city he was not even familiar with. All that effort to comfort a coworker, he apparently did not even like, was a little unbelievable. Hence the question you asked was only valid, “why are you doing all of this?” 

“What do you mean doll? Just being nice to ya’.” he says as an easy smile stretches across his face. “You being nice to me is definitely strange.” you said suspiciously.

“I’m always nice, especially to you, doll. You're just always a bit paranoid.” He spoke while working on his plate. Surely this dinner meant nothing, it also meant nothing when he comforted you the day before on the flight, or when he bought your exact coffee order. I suppose it also meant nothing when you guys ended up making out on the cab ride home. Or how you ended up in his hotel room naked, on his bed, sitting in between his legs with your back facing him as his fingers went in and out of you. 

“T-there.” you somehow let out in between obscene moans. You have never had hands as huge as his quite literally ramming in and out of you. The girth and length of his finger, as well as the callousness made you question what was behind his underwear. 

“Here doll? Want me to go harder? Make ya’ cum?” you nod a weak yes to him. Unable to use the voice stuck in your throat, as his fingers started grinding themselves inside you, putting the right amount of pressure when needed and looking for the spongy walls behind your clit to drive you right where you needed to be. 

“Wah, that’s all ya’ need to cum? Hmm. that shitty ex of yours sure did not know how to handle all that huh?” he smirked against your neck as his other hand slid down, from where it found home on your tits, to rub constant circles on your clit. Right as he did so, your hand flew to his arm, clawing to either make him stop or make him keep going—he would not have it any other way. 

“You gon’ come on my fingers doll? Hmm? Get yourself wet enough to fit my cock in ya’ tight pussy?” he whispered in your ears as both of his hands continued working on you, his middle and ring finger found the spot inside your walls which made you jerk and whine. As you started to go practically jelly in his arms, he pushed past a third finger inside. “N-no, can,can not.” you pleaded to make him stop, mind and tongue going mush to say anything comprehensible. 

“If you can’t even take that much doll, how are ya’ gonna take my cock? ” he let out a little chuckle as you came undone around his fingers and lost the rest of your sanity when he landed his lips on yours to probably comfort you through the orgasm. 

“Let’s make sure ya’ forget that shitty guy.”

KAMO CHOSO જ⁀➴ ♡ don't hesitate, come into me

Dating Kamo Choso was a dream. You met him during college; he was the tatted up nerd who spoke to no one but the few people around him; a cliche really, who looks scary from a far but is a total softy. And no one knew that better than you of course (other than his brothers). 

So it has been really difficult being away from him, all the way in another city, pursuing your further education while he finally opened his tattoo shop he wanted to since forever. As happy as you were for him, to finally have his artistry being appreciated, you couldn't help but feel a bit salty—well it was not easy to own your own business. So you did not push him any further when he told you that he can not go make it to you on valentine’s. Initially the plan was for you to visit him back home, spend the morning with him and his brothers, get dinner with him and just well, it has been a while since you two did anything more than sexting—even phone sex has become hard to organize with how busy the schedules have been. So you were really excited about the lingerie you bought especially for him. 

At the end of the day when you strolled in your apartment building, hating on couples around you the entire day, salty about not having your own boyfriend near you— you were nothing but surprised to see standing there in the middle of your apartment; wearing an apron, and setting up the table with food he probably cooked. That was a sight you could get used to, you thought. And suddenly had tears streaming down your cheeks. It took Choso awhile to sit you on his lap on the couch, and comfort you, who knew you were that frustrated about everything. After you calmed down, you guys had dinner, which was simply amazing. And exchanged the gifts you got each other, seeing him open the wrapped up gifts you got him, made you realize how disappointed you would have been if you simply had to mail it to him. 

And when he opened the last gift, with black frilly and lace lingerie set; he went beat red. You took the set from his hands and stood up from where you were sitting on the bed, “Let me properly show you your gift baby.”

For a guy as sweet and soft, your boyfriend sure was a freak when it came to you. It was especially apparent when he had his face buried in between your thighs and hands gripping onto them, keeping them in place, practically smothering him—and he would not have it any other way—as he licked the juices coming from your pussy, through your panties. The pressure from his tongue and the rough texture from the panties adding onto the pleasure. “You are always so sweet, baby.” he hummed in between his licks.

Suddenly he started to shove his tongue and a finger inside you, through your panties. As he slightly pushed away part of the panties covering your clit to suck on it zealously.  “Cho. baby, please just. Omg” you went on, not making much sense of anything, simply aching to have him completely inside you. Have his shape reformed around your walls. “Won’t let me savour you a little while? Please?” he looked up at you, giving you big doe puppy eyes—his face was still partially covered by your thighs, and his tongue was flat on your clit. The sight alone could have a person faint, and here he was fingering you and simultaneously eating you out, through your pantues. The feeling of lace and sometimes his fingers or tongue scratching your walls, had you delirious. 

He pushed away the panties and finally used two fingers, to stretch you open, to slide his tongue inside you. With a blurry gaze and numb jaw, he ate you out like he was never getting the opportunity to do this again. Probably took a minute or so for him to have you squirt all over his face. When he came up from between your, now jelly, legs— his face was soaked in your juices, his eyeliner  all messed up and hair sticking to his eyes, which were also soaked. His gaze stayed stuck on your cunt as he opened his mouth to stick out his tongue and have some of his spit dribble on your pussy. To then go back in and clean it all up with big stripes of lick. 

“Come into me baby,  fill the empty spaces.” you mutter in a low barely audible voice, before he ripped your panties off you.

HIGURUMA HIROMI જ⁀➴ ♡ wanna try out some freaky positions?

Higuruma Hiromi is the perfect husband, within his capacity. He is a dedicated lawyer, an attentive father, a good friend to many and just very tired. So you don't hold special days over his head—after all he goes through to make your birthday, the kids' birthdays, and anniversaries special, it was the least you could do. Which meant valentine's day plans were left in your care.

And when after dinner you guys were making out on the bed, thankfully kids were sent to spend the day at grandparent’s place; Hiromi thought that the longer morning cuddle sesh, brunch, gifts and dinner was the end of it—but when he went to grab a hold of your ass to move you off from on top of him to under him, he was taken aback to find his hands bound to the headboard with pink fuzzy handcuffs.

“I suppose this is part of your gift, darling?” he let out a chuckle as he slid down to lay flat on the bed, completely giving up the reins to you.

With a faux innocent little smile you said—“Serving you punishment for being so irresistible.” “Sure darling.”

With that Higuruma had you bouncing on his cock. Even when it was only halfway in and already had you struggling, it made you question how you took him on the regular. You whined to Hiromi “So perfect Hiro, ugh. Help me out here.”

“I thought you wanted to do everything darling?” He smiled at you, probing at you. “Please. Please Hiromi.” With one snap of his hips, the entirety of his cock was inside you. And within a moment Hiromi’s hands were freed from the flimsy decorative handcuffs. The very next moment his hands were on your hips, as held you down on his lap. He had you sit there pretty, as he did all the work to snap his cock in and out of you at a speed you could not achieve by yourself.

His cock kissed your cervix again and again as if it would almost penetrate through the canal and go straight into your womb. He had every intention of making a third little Higuruma tonight, as he filled your walls with his seed. As he slipped out of you, you laid completely flat on top of him, out of all the energy you thought you had.

And after a quick rest Higuruma maneuvered you to sit on right on top of his face, holding you down to his nose and mouth by your hips, neglecting all your protests in fear of suffocating him. At the end of the day he was well aware of your love for his nose, and he was never afraid to use it to shower you in affection.

“Goodness Hiro, you are- can y- ah.” You stuttered when his tongue shoved the cum dripping from your cunt further in, making sure no droplet was left behind. So that you take every speck of his seed and bury it in your womb. All the while licking around the entrance to clean up any leftover cum, giving little kitten licks of comfort to your clit.

“What? I thought we have tried freakier positions.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA જ⁀➴ ♡ like this pussy designed for you

Sukuna was not one to be excited for festivities, especially valentine's day. He believes it is definitely a scam. And yet when you get all dejected about not having any plans with him for the day, he reluctantly tells you to clear your schedule and takes the entire leap. He plans the day so thoroughly and to every last detail, you wouldn't be able to tell if he didn't have any experience in this area.

I'm talking breakfast in bed, gifts, whatever you've eyed in the last couple of days. Flowers and chocolates, dinner at a Michelin star restaurant, a hotel room with a heart shaped bed, rose petals scattered all over it, dimmed lights, candles and all—as cliche as it was, you deeply appreciated all of it. 

Especially how the silk sheet felt on your naked body, and how your body felt when you felt Sukuna’s pulsating tip ramming itself up to your cervix. Or how the silk sheets sliped right out of your hands as you held onto it for your dear life. How your entire body was slipping out of his grasp. 

“Stop running from me brat.” He held up your legs tightly to his chest, securing you so you'd not slip up from the sheer impact of the pressure he was putting onto your hips.

“You liked your valentine’s day?” He bent down to move his face closer to your ears, folding your body in the process. “YES. YES.” you shouted, to answer his question or to his cock hitting you in the right places—not apparent.

“Yeah. Let me give it to you good, hmm?” He lifted off your hips from the bed and git on his knees to alter the position slightly, and reach your inside at an angel he didn't before. The thrusts of his hips sent literal shocks and shivers through your body. One of his tatted up arms, curled itself around your ass and lifted off of it to come back down, to place a glass shattering smack. Which was surely going to leave behind a mark. Sukuna was not one to be afraid of leaving marks anyway. The marks of his teeth and purple bruises scattered all over the expanse of your body was witness to that testimony.

He changed the position to then simply wrap your legs around his hips, to move over you and plummet his cock in you at a harder and rougher pace. “Give it to me kuna. All of it.” The pleading was going straight from his head to his dick. “Yeah? Want me to shoot all up in this nasty little cunt? Hmm.” The emphasis of each word was highlighted with the thrust of his hips. “Make my pretty slut’s pussy is made just for me. Right?” 

“Custom made.” He chuckles at that reply, before shoving his face in the crook of your neck and cumming in loads right inside of your cunt, which seems to have molded itself around him so well it's impossible for him to move.

Yet he manages to take his cock out mid orgasm, to then cum all over your stomach. With the last drop of cum squeezed out of him, he rubbed the cum gliding around your stomach, all over your tits. And then took the same hand to shove the leaking cum back inside your walls. 

“Don’t you look the nicest with my cum on you, brat?”

GOJO SATORU જ⁀➴ ♡ let me show how to use your legs

No one could beat Gojo Satoru’s valentine's game. He starts with the 7th and honestly the endless shower of gifts, flowers, hugs, and kisses never really stop. 

So when on the 14th he wakes you up way too early in the morning and makes you spend the entire day out, a little suspicion does arise. Because who is gojo Satoru if not a morning cuddle (& sex) fiend? But you don't think too hard about what he might be getting in your apartment as you two roam around different cafes and shops. 

The answer was mirrors. When you came home at the end of the day, you were glad to not find anything out of place, so you just straight up asked him about it. And to answer your question, he simply led you to your bedroom and when you didn't find anything new anywhere, he came to stand behind you and lifted up your chin with two fingers to look up at the ceiling.

Where the image of your and your boyfriend's reflection, reflected back at you. 

“Mirror sex but better sweets, happy valentine's day.”

You were on top of Satoru, riding him into the dawn, as he stared at your figure going up and down in his cock; into the mirrors above you two. Your head was thrown back, facing upwards, which made things better for him. His tongue was out of his mouth, panting like a pavlovian dog, at the sight of your tits bouncing. 

“Turn around angel. Lemme do the rest.” He turned you to have your back face him, while he sat up to make you bite on your earlobe and thrust his hips up. 

Even with his hips gyrating through your walls at a precise and familiar, but oddly more rougher, pace—his eyes were only focused on your reflection. Sitting right on top of him, one of your hands tangled up in his hair and the other on his hand which was running over your clit. The reflection in the mirror had a similar o-shaped open mouth on, with your head thrown back on his shoulder and body completely melting into his. Your chest heaving up at a more rushed pace, making your tits bounce along them.

“Aren’t you just so glad your perfect boyfriend gave you another perfect valentine's day? Hmm.” His tongue slid around the dents in your ear, “god I am getting a house made of mirrors and fucking you all over it.” 

“That.i-is simply so, so, i- impractical, toru.” The moans and whimpers kind of choked in your throat with the loss of breath, over his hips denting up your cervix. “Hmmm. Then I guess this will do, for now.” 

He laid back down on the bed with your body still on top of him, the entirety of your naked glory,reflecting back in the mirror. The shape of his reddened cock sliding in and out of your glistening pussy, the entrance of your cunt eagerly swallowing him in, and your clit all puffy and swollen, in between in fingers—he is burning the entire thing in his retina. 

“Look at you sweets. Could put the entire porn industry to shame.” He got a hold of your face, making you look up at your own reflection— leaning into his body, and getting railed into beyond by his cock. His blue eyes were practically glowing and staring right back at you with hooded eyes, hungry for more than what he's already been served. And it was enough to make you come undone on Satoru. Gushing around his dick, splatter of your cum going here and there with his constantly moving hips. And Satoru was more than satisfied with his purchase to have introduced him to the new wonderful sights of your body. 

“Let's hope you're well hydrated, you'll be needing it, sweets.”

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

highkey i wanna know everyone's faves cause i do not think these were very 'omg yay valentine's day' trope of me.

tag list: @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @cuntyji @aishi-toru @arcanarix @naomigojo @gojosperms @rriwyu @indiewritesxoxo @sys-oa-main @undercvrfan444 @ineedbetterhobbies0809

A/n: header from Yamada-kun to Lv999 no Koi wo Suru and dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/strangergraphics-archive. putting out something nasty before high school gojo which is just fluff and pining (it's killing me). choso one got really nasty ahem (insane about my babyboy). musician geto comeback as promised, he is going to be a reoccurring character on my blog me thinks, but what would ik :p not like i have any control over my writings or blog

sorry but i have been feeling like shit since exams ended and doing the last week of my internship.

!!!TMI TIME!!!

me when i got myself all hot and bothered writing about musician geto and thought it wouldn't happen again for the rest of them (it happened again):

had to take breaks in between all of them to gather myself. i want these men so bad it's honestly not funny. hope you guys had fun reading, no idea if i did a good job writing down what i pictured in my head.

[voyter]

LOVENOTES ! ... valentines special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

trying your hardest to avoid valentine’s day, you suddenly find yourself at the center of it when a secret admirer starts leaving notes at your door.

word count. 5.2k words warnings. neighbor au. secret admirer koo (hes giving stalker a little more ngl). wrote this while on my period so if reader sounds like a moody bitch you know why. me highkey lowkey channeling my hatred for valentines day in this. pure filthy smut. protected sex. blowjob. titty fuck !! COWGIRL YEEHAW !! kinda subby jungkook (BACK TO MY ROOTS). kinda dom reader.

ana’s notes. happy valentines day xx !! wrote this one in a few days so its short and sweet (also rushed it so i can get back to my other stuff oops). hope she is still somewhat enjoyable .. heh. keep your comments positive or say nothing at all, besos my babies !!

You hated February.

Maybe it was because you were utterly single. Or maybe it was the bitterness that still lingered after all these years. Your last relationship had ended just days before Valentine's Day, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart and a newfound hatred for the most romantic month of the year.

You despised the store displays overflowing with pink and red, the obnoxious heart shaped balloons, the overpriced bouquets of roses, and the sickly sweet scent of chocolates that seemed to mock you at every turn. Love was everywhere — except in your life.

You fucking hated February!

February 10th, 4 days before Valentine’s Day.

“Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook, your cute neighbor, lived in the apartment across from yours. You weren't exactly close, but there was an unspoken familiarity between you, built on polite greetings and the occasional small talk. He was the only person near your age on this floor otherwise occupied by older residents, making your interactions feel practically inevitable.

"Hey," he greeted back, glancing over his shoulder as he jiggled his key into the lock. "How've you been?"

His voice was warm, casual, like he wasn't in a rush to disappear behind his door just yet.

"I'm good. Haven't been doing much but working," you say, fiddling with your keyring in search of the right one.

Jungkook chuckles, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, same. Feels like that’s all I do lately." Work had been wearing him down too — you could see it in the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he rolled his neck like he was trying to shake off the tension.

"Ugh, tell me about it," you groan, exhaling dramatically. "What about you? How are you? How's Bam?"

"We're good, yeah," he says, perking up slightly at the mention of his dog. "He just goes to daycare while l'm at work, so he surprises me when he actually listens well.”

"How cute!" you exclaim. "Your baby's growing up so fast."

"Stop," he whines dramatically. "He's gonna be my baby forever."

You giggle, finally finding the key you were searching for and sliding it into the lock. As you turn it, Jungkook shifts on his feet, hesitating for just a moment before his mouth betrays him.

"Hey, you doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

The question lingers in the air, casual yet hesitant, like he hadn't really planned to ask it. His gaze flickers to you, gauging your reaction, but you're too busy scrunching your nose in mild distaste as you push your door open.

"Not really my thing," you admit. "You?"

"Yeah, not my thing either," he chuckles breathily, looking down at his feet.

"No flowers or chocolates for either of us, huh?" you tease lightly.

Jungkook smirks, shaking his head. "Guess not."

You step inside, gripping the edge of the door. "See you later, Jungkook."

"See you," he says with a smile, just before you shut your door.

With a deep exhale, you toss your keys and purse onto the kitchen counter, the weight of the day settling into your shoulders as you slip off your heels. The relief is instant, but the irritation still lingers.

Why was everyone so obsessed with Valentine's Day? The heart shaped decorations, the endless conversations about sappy plans and gifts — it was exhausting.

Fuck Valentine's Day. Fuck February.

You groan, running a hand down your face. All you wanted was to get through the month without being constantly reminded of how single you were.

Was that too much to ask?

February 11th, 3 days before Valentine’s Day.

Work ends the next day — neither good nor bad. It just ends. The hours blur together, another day checked off the calendar. But the one thing you are sure of? You’re more than ready to get out of this pencil skirt and heels and sink into a nice, warm bubble bath.  

The elevator ride up to your floor is quiet, and you shuffle toward your apartment, already mentally unwinding. But something stops you in your tracks.  

A bouquet of roses sits on the ground in front of your door, deep red petals almost glowing against the dull hallway lighting. An envelope rests beside it.  

Flowers for you. – Ian

Ian… 

You stare at the note, brows furrowing. There was no one named Ian that you knew. No one on this floor by that name either — at least, not that you were aware of. And you weren’t in the mood for some weird mystery admirer situation. You turn it over as if more context might magically appear. But there’s nothing — no last name, no explanation, just those three little words.

With a huff, you unlock your door and step inside, kicking off your heels with a sigh of relief the second you're through. The roses are still clutched in your hand, their scent lingering in the air, but you don’t bother appreciating them. Maybe these were sent to the wrong door. Some poor soul was probably expecting a grand romantic gesture, and now their flowers were here, at your feet.  

Not your problem.  

You glance at the bouquet one last time before scooping it up and marching straight to the trash can. With zero hesitation, you drop the roses inside.

Sorry to whoever was supposed to receive them — should’ve given Ian the right apartment number.

February 12th, 2 days before Valentine’s Day.

Just like yesterday, something was lying by your door. This time, a box of chocolates.  

After just coming back from the gym, sweaty and exhausted, you were just as over this as you were yesterday. If anything, it was even more annoying now.  

You sigh, scooping up the box and envelope before unlocking your door. The weight of exhaustion clings to your body, the post workout soreness settling in. You step inside, kicking the door shut behind you with more force than necessary, and set your keys and water bottle on the kitchen counter.  

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the envelope. You should shower. Eat something. Do literally anything else. But instead, curiosity — or maybe irritation — gets the better of you, and you rip open the note. 

The handwriting inside is neat, precise — almost too careful, like every letter was written with intention.  

Something sweet for someone even sweeter. – Ian

So… Ian was persistent.  

You scoff, grabbing the chocolates and tossing both the box and the note straight into the trash without a second thought. For all you knew, this person could've been a psycho, and you sure as hell weren't going to risk getting poisoned.

Shaking your head, you make your way to the bathroom, stripping off your gym clothes as you go. The hot water is already running by the time you step in, steam curling around you, but even as the warmth soothes your sore muscles, your mind keeps turning.

Who the hell is lan?

Maybe it was someone from a different floor. But that didn't explain how they knew exactly which apartment was yours.

No, whoever it was has been watching you.

February 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day.

It's different this time.

No chocolates. No bouquets. Just an envelope.

A single, unassuming envelope resting against your door like it had been waiting for you.

You grunt as you bend down, fingers hesitating for half a second before you rip it open, right there in the dimly lit hallway.

The answer is right in front of you. – lan

A slow, creeping unease washes over you. Your eyes flick up, scanning the hallway, suddenly hyper aware of how empty it is. The silence feels heavier now, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly.

Right in front of you.

Your breath hitches as you turn your head, your gaze landing on the only thing in front of you.

Jungkook's door.

No fucking way.

You hesitate.

You could just pretend you never figured it out. Walk inside, close the door, and let Jungkook keep thinking you were oblivious. Maybe it would be easier that way — to let him stew in his own nerves, to pretend you were just some ditsy neighbor who never connected the dots.

But he was cute. So, so cute.

And that was enough to make you lift your hand and knock.

The door swings open within seconds, like he'd been waiting on the other side.

Jungkook blinks at you, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

"It's you," you say, holding up the note between your fingers.

A breathy laugh escapes him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

He'd been watching you through the peephole this whole time, waiting.

Jungkook practically knew your schedule — when you left for work, when you got back, the perfect window to sneak out, place his little surprises by your door, and disappear before you could ever catch him in the act.

It was him. All this time.

Jungkook was Ian.

You stare at him, expression unreadable as he leans casually against the doorway, a lazy, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"Thought you'd never figure it out," he says, eyes flickering to the note still pinched between your fingers. "Had to give you a clue."

"How was I supposed to know it was you?!" you exclaim, waving the note in his face. "And what's the deal with lan?"

Jungkook leans against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. "Fake name," he admits with a small smirk. "Thought it'd be fun. Didn't realize you were this clueless, though."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Well, sorry I was too busy thinking I had some creepy stalker to suspect it was my neighbor."

His smirk falters slightly, and he scrunches his nose. "Right... yeah, that part wasn't my best move." He shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I apologize on my behalf. I probably should've kept the letters a little less terrifying."

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, you think?"

Jungkook grins, tilting his head slightly. "But now that you know it's me... can I ask again what you're doing tomorrow?"

You smile, a little too amused. Girly, even. "I told you, Jungkook. Not really my thing."

He exhales dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like you've just wounded him. "How can I make it your thing?"

You bite back a laugh, shaking your head as you turn on your heel and walk toward your door. “Goodnight, Jungkook."

"Really?" he asks, almost desperately.

You pause at your door, glancing at him over your shoulder. "My favorite flowers are lilies," you say simply, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

Jungkook watches you, lips parting slightly like he wasn't expecting that answer. Then, he exhales a quiet laugh, tonguing his cheek. "You're unbelievable."

You shrug, a satisfied little smirk in place. And with that, you slip inside, shutting the door behind you — leaving him standing there, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time, February didn't seem so awful.

February 14th, Valentine’s Day.

You woke up today not absolutely hating it. Which was crazy. Because usually, the moment you remembered it was Valentine's Day, you'd launch into an internal monologue about how stupid, overhyped, and downright annoying this holiday was.

But today? Today was different.

You'd gotten dressed with a little more care, taken your time with your makeup, and even picked out a cute outfit. Now, in the kitchen, seamlessly baking cookies, you spot something slip beneath your apartment door.

Your lips twitch into a smile.

Quickly, you set the pan on the stove, turning off the oven before rushing over. You scoop up the envelope, fingers tearing it open with far more excitement than the past few days.

Your heart does a little flip as your eyes scan the words inside.

Be my Valentine? – Jungkook

Squealing, you completely neglect the cookies as you rush to his apartment. You barely wait a second after knocking twice before the door swings open.

Jungkook stands there, dressed simply — jeans and a shirt — but his hair is styled, and in his hands, he holds a bouquet of pink lilies.

His smile is boyish, teasing. "Yes?"

You beam at him, heart racing. "Yes." You take a step closer. "Yes, yes, yes.'

And then, before you can overthink it, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him.

Jungkook grins against your lips, pecking them once more before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are warm, filled with something soft, something you think you could get used to.

"Come," he says, lacing his fingers with yours. "I wanna show you something."

He sets the lilies down on the counter, just for a moment, before taking your hand again and leading you down the hallway of his apartment. The quiet hum of the space feels different now — charged with something exciting, something you didn't expect.

He stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a room that takes your breath away.

Rose petals scatter across the floor, leading to the bed. The curtains are shut, dimming the room into a soft, intimate glow. Candlelight flickers from every corner, casting warm, golden shadows on the walls.

It's romantic in a way that feels like it could be a dream, but it's real. And it's all for you.

"I would've never pegged you for the romantic type," you tease, your smile playful as you look up at him.

He smirks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try..." he says, almost shyly.

He sounds humble, as if he hadn't spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect — setting up every little detail, making sure nothing was out of place. Even dropping off Bam at his brother's house so there'd be no distractions.

Your smile deepens, and you reach for his hand, gently pulling him toward the bed. "Well, I'm glad you did."

As you guide him closer, your heart beats a little faster. The room feels smaller now, with just the two of you in it, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows that make everything seem more intimate.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes darkening with desire, a playful curve to his lips as he watches you.

You nod, humming in response, your fingers lightly brushing his chest before you gently push him to sit on the bed. His hands rest on the mattress, steadying himself as he looks up at you, his gaze almost too intense — wide eyes, glossy with something hungry and eager, like a desperate puppy awaiting a command.

"I think you deserve something in return, don't you think?" you ask, your voice dripping with sweetness and something more, something sultry.

His breath hitches, a nervous tension creeping into his expression as he stutters, "W- we don't have to..." His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, a mix of hesitation and desire.

You smirk, moving closer, your fingers grazing along the fabric of his shirt. "Oh, come on..." you press, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath on his skin. "Don't you wanna open your present?"

His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see his resolve starting to crumble. The space between you feels charged, and with that one simple question, everything shifts.

You grab his hand, guiding it to the hem of your slip dress, your fingers curling over his as you urge him to pull it up. His breath hitches, and he obeys without hesitation, dragging the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your thighs inch by inch. With your help, the dress finally slips over your head and pools at your feet, forgotten. Your breasts bounce slightly in the confines of your red lingerie, the delicate lace pressing against your flushed skin, a sinful contrast that has his gaze darkening with desire.

You climb onto his lap, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of him. His hands settle gently on your thighs, warm and steady, but you want more. Grabbing his wrists, you guide them lower, pressing his palms firmly against the curve of your ass.  

"Go ahead," you whisper, lips brushing his ear. "I'm all yours."  

A low moan slips from his mouth as his grip tightens. His fingers trail upward, skimming the curve of your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra. With practiced ease, he unhooks it, the straps slipping from your shoulders as the lace falls slack against your skin. You slide it off completely and toss it aside, where it joins the heap of your discarded dress.

"You're so pretty," he breathes, almost whining, his voice dripping with desperation. His fingers flex against your bare skin, and before you can respond, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss.  

It’s all heat and urgency — the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands roam, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch you first. His grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the way his heart pounds just as wildly as yours.

Suddenly, you're slipping off his lap, sinking gracefully to your knees in front of him. His breath hitches, eyes dark with anticipation as he watches you settle between his legs.  

Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. Down, past his firm abs, until you reach his belt. You toy with the buckle, teasing, letting your nails scrape lightly against the leather before you start to undo it, dragging out the moment just to see him squirm.

You make quick work of his belt, unfastening it with a deliberate slowness that has him shifting in anticipation. Then, you tug at his jeans, dragging them down along with his boxers in one smooth motion.  

The moment he's freed, his cock springs up, thick and aching, the tip flushed and already leaking. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, his hands gripping the sheets like he’s barely holding himself together.

His cock is so pretty — long, thick, and flushed a deep, needy red. It twitches under your gaze, and you swear you hear him let out the softest whimper.  

Since you had the audacity to throw away his roses and chocolates, it’s only fair you make it up to him. And what better way than giving him a night to remember?  

You start slow, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling the heat of him pulse against your palm. Your thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the precum before you lean in, lips barely grazing him. Then, with a teasing flick of your tongue, you kitten lick the head, tasting him, savoring the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You take him deeper, your lips stretching around his thickness as you sink down slowly, inch by inch. The weight of him on your tongue makes your thighs clench, and the deep groan he lets out only fuels the heat pooling in your belly.  

His hands fly to your hair, fingers threading through the strands before he gathers them into a makeshift ponytail. He tugs just enough to make you hum around him, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.  

"Ah fuck," he breathes, his grip tightening, his hips twitching like he’s holding back from thrusting deeper.

You take him in until you reach your limit, his tip pressing against the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe through your nose, adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. Then, with a deliberate squeeze of your throat, you swallow around him.  

The reaction is immediate — his whole body jolts, a shudder running through him as a deep, broken moan spills from his lips. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip almost desperate as he fights the urge to push deeper.  

You bob your head a few more times, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him in deep before pulling off with a wet pop. A thin string of spit connects your lips to his flushed tip, and without breaking eye contact, you let it drip onto his cock.  

Wrapping your hand around his slick shaft, you start stroking him, slow and deliberate. The obscene, squelchy sounds echo in the room, mixing with his sharp breaths. His cheeks and ears burn crimson under the dim lighting, and when his hooded eyes finally meet yours, they’re filled with nothing but pure admiration — and need.  

Shifting on your knees, you move closer, the heat of his body radiating against your own. Then, without warning, you do something that catches him completely off guard.  

You grab your breasts, cupping the soft flesh in your hands, and press them together as you lean down, sliding his cock right between them.  

“Oh, gosh,” he moans breathily, his head falling back. His hands grip the sheets beneath him, knuckles turning white as he struggles to ground himself.  

A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips. “You like this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you press your breasts tighter around his cock, moving up and down to create that delicious friction.  

His chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Yes,” he moans, voice rough, almost wrecked. “Fuckin’ love it.”  

His eyes flicker down, hooded and heavy with desire, watching intently as your perfectly manicured fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, pressing them tighter around his cock. The way he glides so easily between them, warm and slick, like he was made to be there — it’s intoxicating. Addictive. And he never wants it to end.  

His breath stutters, his chest rising and falling in ragged pants as he forces himself to keep watching, to burn the image of you into his memory. Every sinful, wet glide. Every soft squeeze of your hands. It’s too fucking good.  

Then, his control begins to slip. His hips twitch, then jerk, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him, unable to hold back any longer. The spark of restraint he’d been holding onto is thinning, unraveling fast, and now he’s moving on pure instinct, desperate for more. His palms press into the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets as his hips start moving, bucking up into the tight warmth of your breasts. It’s slow at first, a gentle roll of his hips, as if he’s savoring the feeling of your soft skin gliding around him.  

But he’s losing himself, second after second. His restraint is slipping, his movements growing more desperate, more needy. The slick sounds of his cock sliding between your tits fill the room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the occasional shaky moan that escapes his lips.  

“You wanna cum?” you ask, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes — such a contrast to the sinful way you’re working him.  

“Yes!” he blurts out, voice strained and desperate. His grip on the sheets tightens, his hips jerking up a little harder, chasing the friction. “So fucking bad!”  

His chest heaves, abs flexing with each ragged breath as he watches you, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s right there — at the brink of his release, barely holding on, waiting for you to give him permission to fall apart.

But you don’t let him.  

Instead, you pull away, leaving him aching, throbbing, desperate. A strangled whine escapes his lips as his cock twitches in the empty space where your warmth once surrounded him. His hands flex against the sheets, like he wants to grab you, to pull you back, to demand you finish what you started.  

But before he can, you rise to your feet and climb back onto his lap, your lips crashing into his in a searing, breath stealing kiss. He groans into your mouth, rough and frustrated, his hands immediately finding your hips, gripping them so tightly you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.  

He’s all anguish, all need, kissing you like he’s trying to take back the pleasure you just ripped away from him. His tongue is desperate, his teeth grazing your lips, his hips bucking up into you on pure instinct. He’s losing his mind, and you love every second of it.

You grab the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin before tugging it up and over his head. He barely hesitates, lifting his arms to help you before tossing it aside, letting it join the mess of discarded clothes on the floor.  

With a frustrated grunt, he kicks off his jeans completely, leaving him bare and exposed, his cock still aching, flushed, and desperate for relief. His eyes stay locked on you, dark and heavy with lust as he shifts back onto the bed, settling against the pillows.  

You strip yourself from your panties before you climb onto the bed, straddling him with ease, your thighs bracketing his waist. His cock, hard and heavy, nudges against your thigh, smearing precum against your flushed skin.  

“Condom?” you ask.  

Without hesitation, he reaches over to his nightstand, yanking the drawer open. His movements are hurried, almost frantic, as he grabs a foil packet from the box inside. The crinkle of the wrapper fills the space between you as he rips it open with his teeth, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, dark and filled with anticipation.

He rolls the condom just over the tip, his breath shaky, but before he can finish, you take over. Your fingers brush against his as you grasp the base of his cock, sliding the latex down slowly, teasingly, making sure it fits snugly around his thick length.  

Then, with a steadying breath, you adjust yourself over him, holding his cock by the base as you position yourself just right. The anticipation is thick in the air, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin — though you both know he’s barely holding himself together. Slowly, you sink down, taking him inch by inch, feeling the way he stretches you open. The delicious burn has you both gasping, your breath hitching as pleasure overtakes you. Beneath you, Jungkook moans, his jaw clenched as he fights to keep control, his fingers pressing bruising marks into your hips.  

Your hands find their way on his broad, sweaty chest, fingers splayed across his firm muscles as you start to move. Lifting up just enough before sinking back down, rolling your hips in a way that has him cursing under his breath.  

As the stretch becomes more comfortable and your pussy grows wetter, the glide becomes effortless, letting you move with ease. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mingling with both of your breathy moans.  

You start bouncing faster, your rhythm picking up with each passing second. His cock drags against your walls just right, hitting that spot that makes your back arch, your nails digging into his chest.  

“You’re so fuckin’ big, baby,” you moan, your voice breaking with every bounce, pleasure shooting through you with each movement.  

Beneath you, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh — flustered, shy even. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as if your words are too much for him to handle. He doesn’t say anything back, just exhales shakily, completely overwhelmed by the way you feel wrapped around him.  

You push yourself up from his chest, hands moving behind you to plant firmly on his thighs, changing the angle. The shift makes everything deeper, makes his cock hit spots that have your head tilting back, a sharp moan escaping your lips.  

His hands roam up your waist, his fingers spreading wide as they slide up to your tits. He palms them with reverence, his touch almost hesitant at first, before he gives in, squeezing, kneading, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples. His breath stutters beneath you, his head pressing back into the pillows, completely lost in the way you feel.

One of his hands slowly makes its way down, his fingers grazing over your stomach before his thumb finds your clit. The first touch is gentle, testing, but when he feels the way you shudder above him, the way your walls flutter around his cock, he starts rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves.  

A sharp gasp escapes you, your thighs trembling as the pleasure intensifies. “Jungkook-” you whimper, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as your movements start getting sloppy, more frantic.  

He just watches you, completely mesmerized. His breath is ragged, his brows drawn together in pure concentration as he works you closer to your high, his thumb pressing down a little harder, rubbing faster, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your bouncing.  

His cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside you, and with his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit, the pleasure swells uncontrollably. It’s too much — all consuming, dizzying, rushing over you faster than you expected.  

Sensing the closeness of your release, Jungkook plants his feet against the mattress, gripping your waist tighter as he thrusts up into you. His pace stutters, his hips snapping up with more urgency as he nears his own breaking point, chasing the same high that you were.

At that exact moment, you clench tightly around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, intense and electrifying. It’s as if everything pulses in rhythm, the shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you. At the same time, he’s driven to the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting deep inside the condom, his body trembling as his release mixes with yours.

You both ride out your highs, your bodies trembling together as the room fills with your breathy moans, the sound thick with pleasure. Each shudder, each gasp, echoes in the stillness, a shared moment of pure connection and release.

Once the pleasure starts to subside, you gently pull yourself off of Jungkook’s softening cock, settling beside him. He removes the condom with a quick, practiced motion, tying it up before tossing it into the trash beside his nightstand. With a soft sigh, he reclines back, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your chest. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly massaging his scalp as the two of you linger in the quiet, comfortable warmth of each other’s embrace.

“Thank you for today,” you say softly, your voice laced with gratitude.

Jungkook lifts his head from your chest, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His smirk is playful as he teases, “Is it your thing now? Or should I have Ian sending you flowers and letters every year from now on?”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Maybe have Jungkook send them instead, yeah?”

He hums in thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Noted,” he says with a grin before leaning in, capturing your lips in another sweet kiss. He pulls back slightly, a playful spark in his gaze. “So, how about dinner and a movie?”

You sit up, a teasing smile forming as you push him back by his chest, then straddle him once more. You lean down, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “I was thinking maybe round two.”

He chuckles, a low sound of amusement escaping him as his hand reaches for another condom in the drawer. A playful glint dances in his eyes as he prepares for what’s to come.

Oh yeah, Valentine’s Day was most definitely your thing now.

© voyter 2025, all rights reserved.

[okwonyo]

VALENTINA, BABY ! ❞ ENHYPEN AS YOUR VALENTINE𓈒

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ──── 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖺, 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗂 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒.

enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO fluff established relationship 𓂃 skinship kissing 愛MORE ｡

桜んぼ ܃ happy valentines day everyone 🎀 i hope yoi all received a lot of love today ><

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HEESEUNG you wait for him to come home all night. well, not really all night— but he does come back home quite later than usual. you assume it’s because of work, you are used to him coming home to you a little more late than he usually does sometimes. you don’t mind it that much honestly, even if it’s a special day today. “baby! i’m home,” he voice rings from the door. as you always do, you get up to welcome him. but, you find yourself too stunned to speak— the man in front of you smiles widely with a teddy bear that is half of his height in his hands and a red, heart shaped box that, you assume, is filled with chocolate. “for my pretty valentine,” he tells you.

JAY the man knows how much you love valentine’s day and he knows how much you cherish his food. therefore, he decides to cook for you today. “go get ready, princess,” he orders gently while you watch him cook. “are you trying to get rid of me?” you tease, getting off the counter to go shower— he laughs, dragging you back to him by your wrist before planting a kiss on your forehead, “never.” he is already all ready, well dressed with a perfect hairstyle when you open the door to get out of the shower. he compliments before covering your eyes, walking you to the leaving room and when he lets you see again, your breath is taken away. there is a table full of food in the middle of the dark room, only enlightened with candles all over the place.

JAKE flowers always end up perishing, he knows that. he is aware that they don’t last very long, less than any other gifts he could give you. but he also knows that the gesture never does. he loves to see your face brighten when he gives a bouquet to you, he loves to see the smile growing wider on your lips the longer you look at it and he can’t stop thinking about the kisses you give him in lieu of a ‘thank you’. you are used to it, to receiving gorgeous bouquets from your lover— yet, you are always beyond happy it happens. and today, he decides to do something bigger. which is sending a dozen of bouquets, with different flowers arrangements each time, to your apartment while you wait for him to take you on a date.

SUNGHOON he loves you. it has never been a secret to anyone— especially not to himself. he finds something new to love about you everyday, from the way you talk to the way you are, from your beautiful features to your inside beauty and it’s flaws, there is nothing he doesn’t cherish. and he wants to tell you about it, all time. every day, every hour, every minute, every second, his love for you keeps on growing as well as the craving need of putting in words. he chooses to do it, to celebrate the love between you and him— through a long letter, where every single thing he loves about you is written down. “tomorrow, for sure, there will be ten more things that i discover about you and keep close in my heart. until it stops beating, even after.”

SUNOO “what is that supposed to be?” he laughs, rather loudly after taking a look at your hand crafted paper heart. today, as a romantic activity, your boyfriend decided to make you craft little hearts together to put them in the scrapbook of your relationship— however, he finds your hearts ugly and isn’t discreet about it. “okay, i’m not crafting anymore,” you pout slightly, putting your heart down and leaning on the couch behind you. he laughs even louder while taking a piece of red paper on the table with the scissors. “look,” he says, wrapping his arms around you while you cross yours under your chest and lean against his. “this is how you do it,” he tells you, cutting another heart in the red paper. “how is that any different from mine?”

JUNGWON you can feel him stare at you as you put the cream on the cookies you just got out of the oven. you only watch him from your peripheral vision, yet, you know from a glimpse of the look on his face to know that he is going to do something stupid. “you have something on your face,” he warns you with a smile in his voice. “what?” you say, forgetting the cookies and starting to wipe different places on your face— but you are sure there is nothing. “where?” you end up asking him. of course, your boyfriend boops your nose, making a small point of cream sit on your lips. and honestly you can’t really do anything but stay still and stare at him blankly while he says, rather happily, “let me help you.” then he leans in, delicately resting his lips on yours and giving you a dizzying kiss.

RIKI as it is his first valentine day— because, yes, he has only ever dated you and plans on keeping it like this forever— he wants it to he a unforgettable experience. he doesn’t decide to have a date night, he opts for a day full of you and him having little dates then and there. first, he takes you the a cute cafe he looked for and made sure was the most perfect ever, to take breakfast with you. he holds your hand while he takes you shopping, compliments you on your choices and look for pieces of clothing to match yours. he sits next to you in the restaurant while you both eat lunch, lets you take a bite of his dessert and he has a sip of your drink. how he holds your shopping bags during the whole day and especially when you play arcade games is lovely, he is even cuter when he wins plushies for you. it is a fun yet tiring day, which is why it ends in a movie night in matching pajamas.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net DAILY CLICK.

[kissforyouu]

i love you — a compilation !

warnings : suggestive content + explicit language + mention of substances

authors note : i had so much fun writing the Roblox part lmfao (from personal experience unfortunately😅😅) I hope y’all enjoy the rest of the fic :)) HAPPY V DAY MY LOVES!!!! ❤️❤️

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ giving him a note saying “don’t smile if you want toe curling sucky sucky tonight”

You excitedly giggle over the folded piece of paper held in between your fingers, thinking to yourself of what your boyfriends reaction would be.

You saw people on TikTok do this trend, and here you thought, yeah why not try this on Jungkook. You were gonna give him sucky sucky anyways^^

“Get back in bed…”, Jungkook groans from his room, patting your side of his bed. Your back is turned to him and bent over as you write the little text on the paper. “Nevermind, stay there bent over and you’re getting instant backshots, okay?” He laughs.

You snort, turning around now. You don’t say anything, stay fully silent, but walk towards him.

“Mmf, finally.” Your boyfriend sighs in pleasure from just having you close to him. He blinks rapidly, breathing heavily. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t geeking a little right now, having already smoked some weed earlier. So he was a little a high, perfect setting for the little bomb you’re gonna drop on him.

You don’t speak, but hand over the neatly folded piece of paper to him. Jungkook looks at you confused, eyebrow raising a little. He adjusts himself on the bed, sitting up to read it. You try holding in your laugh.

Jungkook, high, tries to read the text on the paper. He giggles, reading out loud, “If…you want…toe curling?” He looks at you with a smirk “—sucky sucky? …tonight, don’t…smile…”

He smiles, what I had written not registering in his head yet. He takes a few seconds to process it, and suddenly, his big giddy smile drops. Jungkook’s entire body turns stiff and he straightens himself. He clearly his throat, eyes landing somewhere else in the room.

He sucks in his cheeks, attempting to make a serious face.

“My love, you look like handsome squidward when you do that”, you giggle, holding his face by both of your hands.

Jungkook cracks out a laugh, immediately breaking his composure. It wasn’t even that funny, but he’d always find everything funny when he’s high. He giggles his way through, crumbling the piece of paper in his hand.

“Be for real, that was not funny”, you laugh at the geeked out man in front of you. “You lost the game though. You’re laughing.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stiffens his posture and clears his voice. He’s back to acting serious again, which made you slap his face jokingly.

“You’ve lost already!” But he shakes his head in deny. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh U”— you shut him up with a kiss.

“I’ll still give you sucky sucky because you’re my good boy, okay?” You palm his hard on through his boxers.

“Hey, I’m the dominant here!”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ JK getting mad at his girlfriend whenever she buys things with her own money.

“I missed your cute ass room.” He said with a beaming smile on his face.

“You were here last week, idiot.” You slap the back of his head.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“I miss you even when you’re with me, I miss you always, you know that.”

“Corny.” You laugh at him.

“I know you like that shit.” Jungkook pokes your waist, then a small kiss on your shoulder.

He examines your room as if he’s never been there. But then, pauses.

“Where’d you get this from?,” he walks over to your newly bought expensive white fur caught hanging in your closet.

Jungkook had almost each and every single clothing piece of yours memorised. Mainly because he’s bought almost all of them for you. But this one, certainly, he did not buy.

“Uhh, the store…” you bite your lip.

“What store?”

“Heh.” You knew where he was as going with this.

“Heh? Yeah? What store?” He questions again.

“‘Kay, I’m sorry.” You frown.

“I hate when you don’t use my card. I’ve given you my BLACK card, Y/n. You really can buy anything, big or small. Don’t piss me off.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he leans against your wall, staring at you with a big mean glare. You felt like a child being scolded for taking candy.

“I’ve told you about this already—“

“And I’ve told you about this already too.” He cuts you off. “My card is yours, your card is yours, okay?” He examines my face for expressions of defeat, acceptance. But finds none.

“I don’t want to spend your family’s hard earned money. And yours. It just doesn’t feel right. Plus, what am I going to spend my own money on?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your question, probably finding it utterly stupid and insane. Who wouldn’t accept free money? You, you wouldn’t.

“Don’t give a fuck. Use my card from now on or I’ll get your card disabled.” He shrugs it off and walks out of your room.

What! WHAT!

“What do you mean you’ll disable my card?!”, you shout, “Jungkook!! Stop!! What the fuck!!” You scream.

꩜ .ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ Secretly recording Jungkook who loves to get baby talked

You scroll on your phone absentmindly (lies), while secretly keeping an eye on your boyfriend. His head rests between your thighs, laying there comfortably as he enjoyed whatever anime on the tv.

You think of how you’re going to secretly set up your phone and record him. Hm. Biting your lip, concentrated, you hide the phone behind your pillow and made sure that the camera would be peaking out.

Okay, perfect.

You start by slowly caressing his hair, running your fingers down his locks and massaging his scalp. You made sure to scratch his scalp with your new set of nails, which he paid for. You know he likes that. Like, a lot.

Jungkook moans, his head’s weight fully dropped down to your thigh. You hum back, hands now moving from his scalp to his face. You trace his cheekbones, his nose, his eyebrows, his lips—you even teasingly put a finger in.

Sometimes, you remember he’s your boyfriend and that you could touch him however you wanted and that makes you the happiest girl in the world.

You go on to trace his eyes, his eyelashes then ears. Jungkook hums in relaxation, giving his full body control to you. He looooves when you did this. You go on to pull on his cheeks a couple times, and then ;

“Come up.” You tap his head with the tip of your nail.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything back, but raises himself up from the position below and turns around to lay in between your arms.

Let the fun begin, heh.

“I love you.” You tell him, with a wet kiss on his cheek.

He flashes his boyish smile at you, eyes fully locked on yours as he traced your lips, “I love you more, baby.”

“But you’re my baby.” You soften your voice a little bit, squeezing his nose teasingly. “No, you are.” He argues back. “No, wrong, you’re my baby.” Jungkook cracks a smile again, a small giggle escaping his lips, “Fine. I am.” He finally surrenders.

You squeal, beginning to place kisses all over his sweet face. Lips, nose, cheeks—everywhere. You shut his eyes, just so you could kiss his eyelids.

“I love you so much, my little baby.”

Jungkook groans into your neck, overwhelmed with all the affection as his cheeks took a sudden colour to red.

“Awh, you’re blushing! Who’s making you blush, hm?” You squeeze his cheeks really hard. I know that hurts.

“Ywu.” He manages to say one word.

“What’s my name?”

“Y/n—mmph”

“No. That’s not my name.”

“Mwomwy.”

Wait, LMAO— you weren’t expecting him to call you that right away. You thought it would have to take a lot of convincing, I guess not.

You kiss his glossy lips as a reward, finally letting go of his cheeks. You suffocate the man from hugging him really really tight, chest pressed right to his face. I don’t think he’s having a bad time though. His face was right on your boobs, fully dived in.

“Baby, you’re making me feel less of a man”, he says on a serious note, hands travelling down to rest on top of your booty shorts.

“It’s okay, nobody’s gonna know anyway. They don’t have to know that you’re my babyboy.”

“Stop.” He groans, arms how fully around your waist as he avoids eye contact. He’s shy.

“My baby star candy.” You kiss his hair again. “Look up to me, baby.” You tap his face, raising his chin up. Jungkook hums, making eye contact with you now.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy?”

You are trying so hard not to laugh. It’s so hard. Fuck. You stiffen your face, take in a big gulp and stay still. Jungkook looks at you weird, almost like he’s going to call you weird, but then, he just lets out a big massive gigantic groan and says—

“Uugghhh, me.”

You could see the visible disgust in his face, but also you could tell that he kind of liked it. LMAO. You can’t hold it in anymore, so you burst out laughing. You laugh so much you have to hold your stomach in.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Maybe—HEY WHAT THE FUCK!”

The idiot finally spots the camera hiding behind the pillow, screaming as he jumps off your body. You can’t stop laughing. You’re still laughing. Holy shit. You hold your stomach tighter, trying to breath.

“Haa—haaa, fuck, I can’t breath, AHAHAHAHA”

Jungkook screams too, grabbing the phone. He clears his voice before speaking.

“What the actual fuck, Y/n? What the fuck?” He stops the recording and throws the phone away. “Not funny.”

You’re still laughing, eyes closed tight with a big smile on your face. Jungkook thinks you look the prettiest like this.

“Never do that ever again. You are also not posting that anywhere.” He says with a stern voice.

“Okay, but you were into it, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“…maybe.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 “you’re spinning me around, my feet are off the ground!^^”

You shiver because of the extreme weather (it’s just snowing), hands tightly wrapped around yourself as you squeeze yourself into your boyfriend’s body.

“It’s cold.” You’re shivering.

You tug onto your skirt—yes, skirt in the damn cold—and pull it down to cover your thighs as if it’s going to do anything.

“No shit”, your boyfriend laughs, warm hands rubbing your waist under your shirt. But his hands leave you for a brief moment and sneaks under your skirt and hooks his fingers onto your underwear right on your asscheeks and pulls the stretchy material down. You shriek, hitting his stomach as a reaction.

“This barely covers your ass. Why are you wearing a shortass-barely-a-skirt-skirt in winter? You dumbfuck.” He flicks your forehead.

“It’s for the fashion, Jungkook. At least I look good.” You huff.

“Yeah, sure, you look good but you’re freezing your ass off in this snow. I even feel bad to throw snowballs at you because you’re shivering already.” He squeezes the back of your thighs that were cold as fuck, like meat put in the freezer.

“Let’s do the thing now! The video!” You remind Jungkook, hitting on his chest as a signal.

He nods his head with a groan, placing your phone on the car so that it stands up right.

“What do I do again?” He looks at you with a slightly nervous lip bite.

“Follow the lyrics and then pick me up when it says my feet are off the ground, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You giggle and press the little red button—record—so that the video would start playing.

“ you’re spinning me around ”

Jungkook giggles, pulling you to him by your waist so that your body would smash against his. He grabs your other hand, intertwining it with his and his other hand on your hip, yours on his shoulder, he dances with you, spinning you around along with him.

“ my feet are off the ground ”

With a laugh, his face fully scrunched up, the beautiful man whom you’re in love with hooks his strong arms under your thighs and lifts you up, completely effortlessly. You squeak, feet wiggling and hanging while your upper body clinged to his. You smile at the camera, face heating up fully.

“ I don’t know where I stand

do you have to hold my hand ? ”

He puts you down quickly, hand patting the top of your ass as a way of saying “good job”. You stand next to him with a big smile as the lyric plays. Then he holds your hand really tightly, swinging it back and forth to great lengths.

“ you mystify me

you mystify me

you mystify me ”

As the lyric switches, he pulls you in again and kisses you, hard. Lips smacking against eachother, he pulls you into a deep kiss full of love and passion. At the second mystify me, Jungkook bends you back by your back, deepening the kiss. He put his hand on his cheek, thumb on your jaw as he lifts his face up to kiss you even deeper. By the last mystify me, Jungkook pulls back, a string of saliva connecting your lips together still.

Your cheeks were flushed red, quite literally, and so were his. His lips were glossy and his eyes twinkled like stars. There was a big cheesy smile on your face, you felt like a child who’s just had her first kiss ever. You love him so much.

You shyly take steps forward to stop recording the video on his phone. Jungkook looks at you, proud, because he’s just made his girl shy again.

“Shy? What? Like you weren’t sucking my balls off last night?”

Why does he have to ruin everything.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ calling him “daddy” as a prank (right in front of your dad)

It took a while for Jungkook to earn your father’s trust. He had to work for it. Bring you home on time, show up and talk to him, engage with the rest of your family—he had to learn to express his love for you really loud in front of your family. Once he fully gained your father’s trust, he was automatically invited to every event your family hosted.

And, that’s no different from right now. Your family was hosting a barbecue. A lot of your family was there, your cousins, uncles and aunts, almost everyone. It was always fun to spend moments together as family. Jungkook was practically family at this point :).

; Which was perfect! For your prank! Of course!

As of now, you were waiting for your boyfriend and dad to end up in the same place.

You were in your kitchen, snacking on some strawberries while being a little bent over on the kitchen isle. Without getting noticed, your boyfriend slithers behind you and creeps his dirty hands up your dress to squeeze your ass cheeks hard. What the fuck! You scream!

“Ack! Jungkook, you scared me!” You whine.

He snickers, places kissing on your shoulder blade while his hands made their way around your waist. “Mmhhhm,” he inhales in the scent of your perfume, letting his full body weight fall onto yours. You ruffle his hair and feed him a strawberry. Jungkook watches the way the juice of the fruit falls onto your neck, so he just lols his tongue out to lick it off, with a smirk of course.

“No, they’ll see.” You warn him.

“Mhm, no.” He murmurs into your neck. His voice was almost inaudible, just audible enough for you to hear it. It was so small and breathy, so needy.

Jungkook breaths into your neck, still kissing you there, leaving light wet pecks on your flesh. “You’re going to get us caught, mh, Jungkook.”

He shakes away your thoughts, fingertips moving lower and lifting up your dress. He taps your clothed clit with the back of his fingers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“No, not in public,” you place your hand on top of his, but don’t move it, and let him do whatever. Jungkook chuckles at your submission, which he expected, of course. But just as he was about to put his hand inside, your little sister screams as she runs into the kitchen.

You both flinch, terrified, screaming! Jungkook withdraws his hand back, covering his actions by just coughing really loud as if he was trying to scratch his throat.

“I want strawberries!” She shouts.

“Yeah, baby? Okay, wait.” You begin cutting up some strawberries for her. In the meantime, your father enters the room, suspiciously eyeing you and Jungkook.

“Daddy, sissy is cutting me strawberries.”

Your dad nods in approval, lifting up your sister and placing her on the kitchen isle.

Now, you never used the nickname “daddy” as much in the bedroom. But whenever you did, Jungkook would be obsessed. He’d beg you to call him that again frequently, but you never did, often finding it ‘cringe’ and ‘weird’. Therefore, you weren’t quite sure whether he would follow the command or not. But heh, worth the try.

“Daddy, can you grab me a bowl?”

In instinct, your father turns around to grab a bowl from the cupboards. But another thing catches his attention, it’s how Jungkook’s reaching for the exact same bowl he was reaching for. They both pause in the moment, looking at eachother’s faces with absolute horror plastered across theirs.

“What the fuck—” your dad exclaims before your sister cuts him off, “—daddy, bad word!”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He apologises to your sister, swatting Jungkook’s hand away as he grabs the bowl and places it in front of you.

He’s glaring at the two of you as of now. Jungkook is left flustered, and startled, and sort of angry in a way because he knew you planned this. He darts his eyes at you very sharply.

You give him a small smile. Jungkook tries to escape the situation by walking away, but—

“Jungkook, stay.”

Oh fuck.

Your dad was always a strict man. He wasn’t a crazy type strict, but still very much protective over his daughters.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you just knew you were going to receive a good scolding from Jungkook later.

Your sister finally walks away, munching on her sweet strawberries. Your father, however, taps his fingers on the table, looking between both of you. You’re both silent, like 2 children having caught doing something really sneaky.

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear and witness that.” He darts his eyes at Jungkook.

“Secondly, I hope you are using protection.”

Then he just leaves.

Fuck, you are so embarrassed. You look at Jungkook with a small smile, while he gives you a death glare.

The thing is, dad, we are not using protection either. #rawnextquestion.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮 ༘⋆ ִ ₊⊹ dream blunt rotation

You sigh, watching your boyfriend roll another blunt. You observe each and every one of his moments carefully. The way he rolls his filter paper, the way he licks the end of the paper to seal it all together. He did it so precisely. He always did. Your boyfriend was, like, the master blunt roller. You in the other hand could never master it. He always rolled your blunts for you.

Jungkook taps the almost completely rolled blunt on the table about 10 times so that all the weed would be inside the rolled paper, then fills it to the top with a bit more weed.

“Hm.” He hands the blunt over to you, “you want me to roll more, baby?”

You shake your head, “this is enough.”

You light up the blunt with—heh, your super cute hello kitty lighter which, by the way, Jungkook decorated for you. Yeah, he bought all the little charms and decorated the lighter for you. You’re in love with this man.

You light the end of the blunt, and put the other side in your mouth to take a small inhale. You exhale the air out, snuggling into your boyfriend’s couch. You were staying over at his place, no way in hell would you smoke at yours. Only in your room, that too if your parents weren’t home. Jungkook’s parents didn’t care. They knew he did all sorts of things. They didn’t really care as long as he did his academics well, which he did.

Jungkook takes an inhale out of his joint, head thrown back as he sighs, eyes closed. Suddenly, he starts giggling.

“What?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“I love you so much. I get emotional when I’m smoking, I don’t fucking know why, but I love you, you know that.” His cheeks take a shade of light pink.

You’re cheeeeeeezzzziiinnnnggggg. There’s a small giggle out of you, and you scoot closer to kiss his cheek and drag a smoke out of your joint as well.

“I love you more, you know that too. And you’re forever going to be my blunt roller slash plug.” You laugh.

“Jesus, I should start making you pay.”

“That’s so odd for you to say.”

Jungkook laughs, agreeing.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, taking an inhale.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” You ask, taking another hint.

“Dream what?” Jungkook laughs, finding the question absolutely ridiculous.

“Like, if you could share your shit with anyone, who? Like, a group of people, mhm?”

He laughs again and grabs your hand that was placed on your thigh and kisses the back of it, “you. Why would I wanna be smoking with anyone else besides you?”

“You smoke with your friends.”

“Well, yeah”—he groans, “but like, you’re my dream, you know? You’re my…dream blunt rotation? Whatever you call it.” He declares his love for you again in rather a more romantic way.

“I’m your dream?,” you giggle, lashes batting. Now it’s your turn to kiss the back of his hand. You stare at your boyfriends big doe eyes as he hummed in response. You take another hit of the joint, keeping the smoke still in your mouth, and pull him into your body. You kiss Jungkook with passion, your saliva mingling together as the smoke transfers down to his mouth. Your boyfriend groans and breaks the kiss to inhale and exhale the smoke.

Both of you were starting to sweat despite the A/C, and the weed was starting to take a toll on you as well. You take another inhale, eyes batting to shut down. “Oh my god,” you moan, head falling against Jungkook’s shoulder.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” He asks back.

“Well,” you begin, “Robert Pattinson, Lee Jong-suk, Woo Do-Hwah—”

“Actually shut the fuck up.” Jungkook shuts you up with a harsh slap to your thigh, making you wince, followed by a giggle.

“‘Kay, sorry. They’re hot though.”

“What about me?” There’s a big fat pout on his face.

“You’re hotter, you’re my husband.” You give him a big fat smile, and a big fat wet kiss on his forehead.

“I think I’m hard.”

And you look down and see a big fat monster tent staring right back at you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Roblox with your boyfriend / headcannons

Jungkook never played Roblox until you forced him to do so. He first laughed at you and called you childish for still playing Roblox, fast forward sometimes he begs you to play it with him.

You got into Roblox through your little sister Evie of course. She’d always ask you to play dress to impress with her, and who are you to say no? That’s when you felt like dragging Jungkook into this.

He would always supply you an endless amount of robux. You and Evie, of course. His account however would only have like 5 robux left, whilst yours was like 10k all the time. You had access to his Roblox account, so you’d randomly log into his account and change his avatar a bit here and there.

He also only had two friends on Roblox, that would be you and Evie. For some reason, he had a bunch of followers on Roblox. He always wondered why, since he never even played like that. You had about 200 friends on roblox though. And like a bunch of followers. LOL.

Moving onto the games you play, it ranges from cute girly games to horror games. Most of the time, it’s always dress to impress. Jungkook would always call it boring but also yell whenever he doesn’t place.

You’d play arsenal, mm2, doors, mocker, dead silence, hello kitty café, royale high—likewise.

Also, don’t tell anyone, but sometimes whenever you guys are hanging out, you’d ask him “hey, wanna have e sex?” and go on LifeTogether on Roblox and do it there for shits and giggles. You always found it funny, and he just did whatever would make his girlfriend happy. happy wife = happy life. Oh, and of course you have real sex after^^.

Everytime another headless gets deleted, Jungkook would just spend like 800 robux to buy you another. He’s so cute, you love him so much.

You and Jungkook would have cute matching Roblox fits. His would be all pink and cute, he didn’t care since it was Roblox. You guys would deffo get labelled as a “corny Roblox couple” LOL.

Jungkook’s favourite game though, as corny as it sounds, unfortunately, is dahood💔. You hate that game passionately from the bottom of your soul but he loves it. He logs in and starts fights with randos. Sometimes he would kill you and carry you around the place. He’s done some cute things though. Like once, he planted dahood flowers all over the place and wrote ‘I love you’ on the wall using dahood graffiti.

outfit inspo 4 u guys + dti sneak peak :

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ^ྀི the topic of kids !

“Jungkook?” You ask your boyfriend, who just hums at you. He’s sleepy.

“You ever think of kids?” Your voice is sleepy as you sleep.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again, “with you? Yeah, all the time. Why do you ask?”

It feels nice. It feels really nice to know that he feels the same way about you. He also wants to have children with you. Not now, for sure, but one day.

“I fantasise about our future a lot. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I’ll make chop suey out of your dick and feed it to the sharks if you do.” You threaten him, followed by a yawn. Jungkook just laughs, the sound of his soft laugh echoing from one year to another. You love the sound of it. So, so, so incredibly much.

“You’d have to kill me to make me leave you, my beautiful baby Y/n. Even so, I’d come haunt you as a ghost. ‘M never leaving you alone.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You say as your fingers fondle with the gold chain around his neck. “How many kids do you want?”

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment, “how many does mommy want? I’d like to have as many as you’d want to pop out” ; he ends his sentence with a laugh.

“Mommy wants at least 3.”

He nods, hand patting the crown of your head. “‘Kay, daddy agrees too.”

“You think…I’ll be a good mom?” Your words are a tad bit slurred as the drowsiness is getting to you really bad, but you still ask your question.

“Is that a question? You’re the most patient person I know. You’re the most genuine and kindest person I’ve ever met. Sometimes I don’t understand why you’re still with me because I can be such an asshole sometimes. You’re like, the angel that I was blessed with. You’re the light to my life, the sun to my moon, I don’t know brah”—he pauses and holds you tighter and murmurs, “you know how I feel about you,” into your neck.

You giggle, your grip tightening around your plushy as you blushed. “What are you? A poet?”

“For you, yeah.”

“You’re making me horny. Let’s make a football team.”

[viperify]

oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☾₊⊹ To The Moon n’ Back.

Short Summary: This year you’ll spend another ordinary Valentine’s Day, all by yourself. Or that you think—until you receive a mysterious letter.

Warnings: 18+ only! soft impact play, brief fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, also this is kinda ooc!Tom bc how do I make this man engage in Valentine’s Day activities.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day!!! 💋🩷

wordcount: 2,4k

Tom Riddle does not do love.

So why is it that every time you walk past him, his heart beats just a little bit faster?

He’s done everything to distract himself—drowning himself in books, studying more than what is usual, even for someone called Tom Riddle.

Yet, you never fail to leave his mind. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to get the thought of you—specifically your lips on his—out of his mind.

By sweet Merlin, that’s the worst part of it all.

──

It’s Valentine’s Day.

Safe to say—you aren’t interested in a relationship.

So it shouldn’t bother you that all of your friends are out with their partner. But it does, your chest tightening at the thought of spending another night alone on a day that’s meant to be celebrated with your loved ones. It’s always been like this though, they’ve had their fun, and you—well, you stayed behind.

You decide to head to bed early. Right after dinner, which was awfully boring with none of your friends around, you make your way back to your dorm. Or try to, at least. Because as soon as you turn the corner, someone bumps into you.

Not just anyone—Tom Riddle. Head boy, former prefect, top student in every class, teacher’s favourite, award winner… you could go on like this for hours. There is probably nothing in this world that he hasn’t achieved—except for finding a Valentine’s date, it seems.

“I am sorry,” you mumble as you crouch down to pick up a piece of paper he has dropped. And it’s really not that you wanted to know what was written on it—it must have been the familiar number that caught your eye—the number of your dorm to be exact.

Though slightly taken aback, you hand him the paper—or better—he rips it from your hands. For a moment when his lips part slightly, you think he might want to say something in return—maybe apologize for bumping into you—but nothing ever comes.

So you leave, shooting him a weak smile.

It’s not like you expected an apology from him. He has his close circle of friends, all of whom are from renowned pureblood families. Even if you wanted him to like you, look at you the same way you’ve looked at him for years, it wouldn’t change a thing. Tom Riddle was unreachable. Any girl that has ever been interested in ended up getting rejected, and you wouldn’t be one of them.

Yet, the rich scent of his perfume lingers, the way his eyes flickered to your lips for a brief moment imprinted in your mind. His hands brushing over yours briefly, feeling his warmth, the warmth you’ve been craving to feel on your skin—

You shake your head. You’re interpreting too much into it.

──

Tom curses himself for almost blowing his cover.

After hours of contemplation, hours of sitting in front of a blank piece of parchment, he finally writes something down.

My dear—

He scoffs. Pathetic.

Scrunching up the paper, he discards it on the wooden floor of his dorm.

I hope this letter finds—

Definitely not.

Please meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight at—

Please? Who is he to beg? You should be the one begging for— fuck.

Twenty crumpled-up pieces of parchment later, Tom’s had enough.

He opts for something shorter.

Astronomy Tower. 9pm. Don’t be late.

Perfect.

──

You are tucked under your duvet, putting the romance novel you had started on the nightstand. It was only 8pm, but with nothing else to do, sleep didn’t seem like the worst option. Soon enough, your eyelids flutter closed, and you drift off to sleep.

Though, it isn’t too long before a sharp knock on the glass of your window wakes you. It’s your owl, delivering a letter. Quite an unusual time for you to receive something, yet curiosity gets the better of you, and you open your window to get it.

No sender.

Reluctantly, you tear the envelope open, and your eyes skim over the words written on the parchment.

“Astronomy Tower. 9pm. Don’t be late.” You whisper, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. You don’t recognize the handwriting as anyone's you know, and as soon as you wipe over the words, the ink smears, vanishing, leaving you with an empty parchment.

At first, you are quite unsure whether to go. There’s no name on the letter, and especially on a day like today, there will be stricter enforcements of the curfew rules. Though, knowing yourself, you would have probably gone anyway. Even on a day like this, the moon and the stars are the only company you crave.

So you change, folding your PJs neatly on your bed, putting on the first skirt you find—though as soon as you step out of your dorm, you regret your decision. Tonight is cooler than usual, a soft breeze brushing past your skin, having you shiver. It’s too late to turn around, though. So you make your way, walking the route you normally take when you sneak out past curfew.

As you ascend the stairs to the tower, a figure leaning against the railing catches your attention. Only when you take a few steps closer do you recognize who it is. The brunette curls are unmistakably Tom’s, and for a moment your breath catches in your throat, halting your movements. Knowing that he is most likely on his patrol, you turn around to return to your dorm, but as you do just that, his voice stops you.

“You came.” He remarks quietly, without turning around.

It is him.

“You wanted to see me?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Riddle, if this is some kind of—“

“Come closer.”

You walk forwards then, though reluctantly, and lean against the railing next to the brunette. It’s silent between the both of you for a while before he speaks up again.

“They fascinate you, don’t they?” He asks subtly, staring into the distance of the night sky. You follow his gaze, taking in the stars and moon on the otherwise pitch-black horizon. “You watch them each night when you can’t sleep.”

You turn your head then, looking at him briefly. You want to ask how he knows, yet you decide to keep it to yourself. Instead, you answer honestly.

“It’s a rare constant in my life. They help me calm down, especially after a long day.”

He gives you a soft nod in return, and silence returns between the both of you, left with owls howling in the distance. There’s still snow on the ground, and it must be below freezing temperature, because when another cool breeze brushes past you, you shiver, scrunching up into yourself.

“Why am I here, Riddle?”

Tom finally turns towards you then, a spark of something softer shimmering in his otherwise so strict chocolate-brown eyes, and he takes a measured step closer.

“You didn’t have any other plans tonight, did you?” He asks, in a way that’s implying he already knows the answer—because what does he not know—and you shake your head no.

“Then that is why.”

You part your lips to question him but are interrupted by his hand reluctantly reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your cheek, trying, testing, before his hand wanders to your neck. His thumb draws small, soft patterns on your jaw, and you tense slightly at the contact. He stops then momentarily, watching your softened expression, but when you don’t complain, he continues.

His gaze flicks to your lips, the air between the both of you growing thick with tension as he slowly leans in. Your surroundings fade into a blur, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.

Tom Riddle is kissing you.

The kiss isn’t what you’d expect of someone like him—it’s soft, tender, your lips moving in sync as his second hand rests on your lower back, pulling you closer.

Soon enough, he has you pressed against the railing, lips only parting from yours when a soft moan falls over your lips. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, then he goes back to kissing you as his fingertips trail up the soft skin of your thighs, stopping at the hem of your skirt.

“Okay?” He murmurs, waiting for a verbal agreement before turning you around, adjusting your position with a firm grip on your waist. He bunches the skirt around your hips, delivering a soft smack to the round curve of your now exposed ass.

A soft whimper falls over your lips, and you slightly lurch forward at the contact, but he is quick to reposition you, pulling you back to him.

It is most likely the choice of your underwear that has him go silent, fingers softly tracing along the lace of your burgundy thong, though he is quick to rid you of the last piece of fabric covering your lower body. Tom makes you step out of it, crouching down to lift your leg. You only faintly notice that he puts it in his pocket, and time to complain is sparse because his hands are back on your exposed skin within a second, cutting off your thoughts.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, drawing a soft mewl from your lips, “even more so than I thought.”

Another gentle smack, and you feel his hand gently massaging your thighs before they wander up further. He doesn’t proceed—he waits, lingering there for just a moment.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” He instructs, his voice soft, and you obey, parting your thighs to allow him better access. A whimper escapes your lips when Tom fully presses himself against you, making you feel the problem you’ve caused him.

His hand leaves your thigh, traveling up until he reaches your already soaked heat, humming as his fingers swipe through your folds, collecting your arousal. One finger slips inside of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, and you can’t help but buck your hips into his touch.

A second finger enters you, stretching, preparing you for him. You appreciate it—but all you want is to finally feel him.

“Riddle, please— I need you.”

His fingers withdraw then, hand wrapping around your throat instead, tilting your head backwards as you feel his hot breath ghosting over your ear.

“What’s my name?”

“Tom, God— please let me feel you, Tom.” You croak out, whimpering in defeat.

He lets you go then, the sound of him undoing his belt cutting through the night. “Good girl. Sounds so good when you say it.”

He casts a warming charm on you, a pleasant heat spreading through your body, and the next thing you feel is his tip nudging against your soaked entrance, slipping inside of you with a single, slow thrust. He groans when he’s inside of you completely—and it might be the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

He’s told you to stay quiet—though that order is quickly forgotten when he sets a steady rhythm, fingertips pressing hard enough into your skin to leave bruises. He stretches you perfectly, filling you completely with every snap of his hips, knuckles turning white from how hard you are gripping the railing. The sound of your skin colliding with each thrust fills the air, accompanied by your moans and whimpers and occasional low groans from the man behind you.

“Spread your legs a little further for me, love.” Tom breathes, hand slipping between your legs once more as you do. Again, he finds your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing the bud in slow, circular motions.

As your moans grow louder, walls clenching around him, he angles his thrusts slightly differently, his tip brushing over your most sensitive spots inside of you.

“Oh— Tom, don’t— don’t stop, fuck—“

His palm lands on your ass once more, but this time you arch your back into his touch, thighs trembling at the electrifying sensations shooting straight to your core.

With one of his hands on your waist, pulling you back into the sharp snaps of his hips, the other wraps around your throat again, pulling you flush against his chest. Like this he is able to reach even deeper, tip brushing against your cervix with every thrust, providing you with the perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck— squeezing me so tight. That good?”

You only manage a nod in return, eyelids fluttering close as you near your climax, walls fluttering wildly around his invading length.

“Open your eyes and look at the sky when you come, darling.”

So you do.

With one last high-pitched moan, you tumble over the edge, hot, white pleasure rushing through your veins as your cunt clamps down around him, his hands on your hips as they stabilize you when your knees are about to give in.

Soon after, your mind still hazy with the aftereffects of your own orgasm, he empties himself inside of you with a low groan, hips stuttering as he is buried to the hilt, making sure you take all of him.

Both of you stay like this for a while, catching your breath. Only when the warming effects of the charm he casted on you wear off does he pull out of you slowly, drawing a soft whimper from your lips at the loss. He fixes your skirt for you, takes care of his appearance before his arm wraps around your waist, helping you stand upright.

“I will need that back,” you say, pointing to the lace half hanging out of his pocket.

He tucks it away completely then. “Don’t know what you are talking about.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes, leaning back against the railing.

A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips but fades as he studies you in the faint glow of the moonlight, his expression turning more serious.

“Did so well for me,” he says after some time, voice soft again, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You blink in confusion. Surely he didn’t—

“I wish you could see yourself the way you see the stars and the moon.” He goes on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You are worthy of love.”

You shake your head. “Tom—“

Before you can protest, he presses his lips on yours, cutting off whatever words you were trying to form.

“I want you to teach me,” he exhales then, wrapping his coat around your shoulders, “how to love. Teach me how to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

this was requested by my lovely @riddleswhcre 🩷 thank you so much for requesting baby!! you already know I am not particularly happy with how this turned out, but I hope it was still somewhat alright. <3

[infinitatis-ink]

Made With Love

Gojo x Reader - Ao3 Link 

Summary: After giving your coworker the obligatory Valentine's Day chocolates, he insists on giving you a return gift. Little do you know that his gift has his own special and personal touch to it.

A/N: Happy belated Valentine's Day! I'm a little late lol, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Other Notes: In Japan, giri chocolates are chocolates given by women to male coworkers or friends on Valentine's Day to express friendship or gratitude.

Content Warnings: Implied obsessive behaviour, implications that Gojo's been stalking you, Gojo feeding you his cum without your knowledge, bodily fluids, Gojo being creepy towards you, female reader.

MDNI. MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

“Oho, a gift for me? This really is a holiday!”

“Just take the chocolates, Gojo.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you hold out a small bag of chocolates to Gojo. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have stalled until the end of the day to give Gojo his share of giri chocolates. At least you could’ve avoided seeing his dramatic declarations of thanks with excuses of work if you’d done it in the morning. Now that it’s just the two of you in the school's offices, you doubt Gojo's going to let you go with just a “thank you.” 

“If you insist!”

Gojo plucks the bag out of your grasp with an exaggerated sweep of his arm. His fingers linger against yours, pressing into them, and you’re parting your lips when he pulls away with a satisfied smile. Pinpricks bloom in the spots his fingers had touched yours as you watch him pull down his blindfold and delicately cradle the bag in his hand. He takes out a chocolate, gazing at it before popping it into his mouth with a loud hum.  

“Delicious.” Gojo licks his lips. “And homemade too?”

His eyes are shining too. You've seen that look before, in the way Gojo only follows you on missions, in all the times he keeps getting you to help him provide “hands-on demonstrations” while he’s training his students, in how he always finds you outside of work, your paths crossing too many times for you to call it a coincidence anymore. It’s tinged with hunger, like you're his target for something you can’t seem to name.

“Yeah. I wanted to try making everyone’s chocolates this time,” you say, trying to keep your tone light. “I’m glad you liked it too.”

Gojo’s smile flickers. 

“Is that so?”

You furrow your brows. Gojo’s never reacted like this when you gave him chocolates before. Ieiri always gave him giri chocolate too, and he’d never made…a show of receiving and trying her chocolates on the spot. 

An awkward silence engulfs the room. Gojo's still gazing at you intently, as though he were expecting you to say something more. Against the setting sun, the shadows on his face grow sharper, deeper.

The room suddenly feels colder. 

“Um, I’m heading out then. Night,” you stammer out, hastily grabbing your stuff from your desk. Relief washes over you as you make your way out of the room. Now that you’d gotten that out of the way, you could go home and— 

”Wait! There’s something I wanna give you too.” 

You stop, a few steps away from the door, willing yourself to turn and face him again.  

“What is it?” 

Gojo grins and reaches into his jacket pocket. He takes out a small white box topped with a blue bow, the same shade as his eyes, and offers it to you with a flourish. “I made some chocolates for you! As a thanks for the ones you gave me all these years.” 

This is new. You raise an eyebrow. 

“White Day isn't for another month.”

“Yeah, but you know me.” He shrugs and flashes you a cheeky grin. “I've never cared for tradition.”

“I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to—”

“C'mon,” Gojo half-whines, pouting. “I stayed up all night to get it right!” 

He offers you the box again, giving it an insistent shake this time. He gazes at you expectantly, his pout hardening into a pursed frown the longer you hesitate. Something heavy crackles in the air, like a gathering storm. 

You dry swallow and stiffly hold out your hand. 

“Thanks, Gojo.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Gojo look so pleased as when you accept the box. To be honest, you’d half-expected a more unusual gift. Something like a souvenir he’d picked up on one of his missions, or dessert from one of the cafes he keeps trying to get you to visit with him. Handmade chocolates feel too friendly for what's supposed to be a return gift from a coworker.

“Wanna try one?” he asks eagerly. The edge in his tone only leaves room for one answer.  

Your fingers are cold and numb as you open the box to see large white chocolates shaped like hearts and drizzled with brown icing lined up in neat rows. They look professionally made, like something you’d find in a luxury goods store. It’s a lot of effort put into what’s supposed to be a return gift for giri chocolates. 

Too much effort.

“They look nice,” you comment politely. “And well made.”

“That’s because I made them with my love!” Gojo chirps, clapping his hands. His smile is painfully wide and uncanny. “I used your favourite flavours too. You’re a fan of fruits, yeah?”

A knot forms in your stomach. You don’t think you’ve mentioned to him what your chocolate preferences are. Maybe he guessed it from your reactions on White Day, but you’ve never been picky about what you got. Despite his antics, he’s always been an observant person too, so there was that, you suppose. 

“…I am, I guess,” you reply. You pick up one of the chocolates, turning it over with your fingers. Gojo’s only asking you to try one piece. You could play along for a little longer, couldn’t you?

Before you could regret your decision, you take a bite of the chocolate. It’s sweet and milky, with a smooth coating that melts away when you bite into it. You wonder how much time Gojo spent on this, because it has to have taken more than a night for him to—  

A sharp, strange taste suddenly assaults your tongue, and you almost choke. It's salty and bitter, like the filling has gone bad, and every instinct in your body screams for you to spit it out, but you force yourself to swallow because Gojo’s still watching you. The bitter taste clings to your mouth and throat, drowning out everything else until it’s all you can breathe in too. 

You look down at the half-eaten chocolate still in your hand. Filling drips out of the shell, thin and cloudy white, trickling down your fingers in droplets.

You wish the ground would swallow you up whole. 

“What did you put in them?” you rasp. Your voice sounds alien to your own ears and you don’t know if you want to hear the answer anymore.

Gojo’s eyes bore into you, his gaze threatening to swallow you whole. His smile turns hungry, almost feral. Too late, you see the walls closing in on you.

“Like I said,” he says simply. “They’re made with my love.”

[solxamber]

Hi Sol! Hope your having a good February so far!

Could I get a: Leona, Romantic with Shivers by Ed Sheeran?

Happy early Valentine's day!

"Like my soul's on fire" || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Shivers by Ed Sheeran

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 650

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Happy Ending, Realization of feelings

Leona Kingscholar doesn’t chase things.

The world has always handed him its expectations, its disappointments, its half-hearted praises wrapped in thinly veiled insults. He’s learned to shrug it all off—to take only what he needs and sleep through the rest.

But then there’s you.

And Leona doesn’t chase, no—but he follows.

Because when you burst into his life, wild and restless, dragging him by the wrist into whatever chaos you’ve concocted this time, he finds himself moving before he can think. He groans, he complains, he calls you a menace—yet he always follows.

And it should irritate him. The way you throw yourself into things with no plan, no hesitation. The way you insist on midnight road trips with no destination, on dancing under flickering neon signs, on sneaking onto rooftops just to stare at the sky. It should be exhausting, annoying—

But damn it, you make his blood burn.

And Leona, for all his grumbling, has never felt more alive.

Tonight, it’s the city. You’re out past a reasonable hour, the streets buzzing with life, headlights flashing against wet pavement. There’s a chill in the air, but you barely seem to notice, too caught up in whatever scheme has taken hold of you this time.

Leona leans against the hood of his car, watching you with that lazy half-smirk that does nothing to hide the heat in his gaze.

“Tell me there’s a plan,” he drawls, even though he already knows the answer.

You flash him a grin, eyes alight with mischief. “Where’s the fun in that?”

And of course, he should’ve known. You live for the rush, for the spontaneity, for the feeling of wind whipping through your hair as you take a leap without looking. And the worst part?

You make him want to jump too.

Before he knows it, you’ve grabbed his hand, tugging him forward. And for all his complaints, he doesn’t resist.

He never does.

Hours blur together—bright lights, laughter, stolen kisses in the shadows of alleyways. Leona doesn’t remember the last time he let himself have fun, not like this. Not in a way that didn’t feel like a performance, like something expected of him.

But with you, it’s different.

With you, it’s easy.

You don’t want the prince. You don’t want the strategist, the second-born, the disappointment, the afterthought. You just want him.

And it terrifies him.

Because Leona has spent his whole life avoiding expectations he can’t meet, avoiding fights he can’t win. He never lets himself want things too much. It’s easier that way.

But then there’s you—laughing, warm, pressing close to him as the night lingers on—and he knows, deep down, that this is a battle he’s already lost.

It’s nearly dawn when you both end up somewhere quieter, the city still humming in the distance. You’re leaning against his shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to you, but you’re smiling, your fingers lazily tracing patterns over the back of his hand.

Leona watches you, his mind a mess of things he’ll never say out loud.

You make him want things. You make him ache.

And then, in that quiet, reckless way of yours, you say, “Leona, let’s stay like this forever.”

His breath catches.

It’s a stupid thing to say. Impossible, even. Forever isn’t real—not for people like him, who have spent their lives being second place, almost-enough, not-quite-worthy.

But you look at him like you mean it. Like you really believe it’s possible.

And damn it all, maybe he wants to believe it too.

Leona exhales, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “You sure you can handle forever with me?”

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze, your smile soft but certain. “Try me.”

And Leona, who has spent his whole life avoiding the things he can’t win, decides—just this once—to stop running.

If this is a dream, he thinks, then he never wants to wake up.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[shockercoco]

Better Late Than Never

Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky

Word count - 2167

a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)

“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.

It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 

You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.

“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”

Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.

“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.

“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”

You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.

While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”

She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”

You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”

“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 

A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”

“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”

“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”

That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”

The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”

Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.

You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.

Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”

“Because you keep looking at me.”

“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”

“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.

“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.

“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.

“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 

He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.

As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.

“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”

Weeks? 

Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.

You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.

“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”

A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”

“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”

When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 

You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.

At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.

It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 

After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.

You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 

A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.

You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.

“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.

“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”

Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.

“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 

Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.

“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”

“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.

“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.

“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”

“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”

“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.

Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”

“...Well, he is your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.

What were you upset about again?

A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.

“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.

“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”

“Get what together?” you ask.

Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”

Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.

“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”

Oh. 

You blink.

“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 

Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”

Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”

“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”

“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[muleumpyo]

The day Eddie left for Texas, Buck made a mistake—the biggest of his life.

And that's saying a lot for a kid who was born a failure.

—

The realization had hit the moment he sat down on Eddie's couch, tablet in hand, head still ringing with the words "El Paso" and "leaving" and "Chris." The words hadn't made sense when Eddie had said them, not at first. He hadn't understood what they really meant.

I'm moving back to Texas.

Buck's own response had come out automatically. He could tell what Eddie needed in that moment—the awkward tilt of his head, his hands squeezing tight, his whole body radiating nervousness—and it wasn't whatever clawed, cold thing had suddenly tightened its grasp around Buck's heart, forcing it still.

Eddie wanted encouragement, so Buck had given it, smiling wide, his voice suddenly too loud in the small space.

It wasn't until he strode over to the couch and dropped himself onto its familiar cushions, that he realized that soon, he wouldn't be able to do that anymore. Eddie would find a place in El Paso, hire movers to wrap up his furniture, and start packing up the little house Buck had come to know as a second home. This couch wouldn't be here anymore, and everything else around him—the art on the walls, the pictures on the mantle, the plates they had eaten off a thousand times together—would be gone.

And Eddie, too. His best friend, his partner, the person he thought he'd see basically every day for the rest of his life. He'd be gone.

Nobody ever stays, Buck thought.

That was unfair, he knew. Of course, Eddie had to be with Christopher. There was no question. Eddie had been miserable these last few months without him. But Buck had always thought—had hoped—that Eddie would get through to Chris, or Chris would realize how much he missed his dad, or how much his dad loved him and wanted him home.

Home. Here, in LA.

Here, with the family they had built with the 118, and Maddie, and Jee, and Karen, and Athena, and all the people he and Eddie both loved...

Love.

For a second, Buck wasn't even sure he was breathing.

It was only when the couch dipped next to him and a familiar hand had landed on his shoulder that Buck realized how long he had been sitting there, frozen. When he looked over, he caught Eddie's relieved smile and his warm brown eyes, crinkled in the corners, all the tension from the kitchen gone.

And his heart, which felt like a stone in the center of his chest, restarted. This was Eddie, and Buck would do whatever he could to make sure he was happy. No matter what it took.

And the thought came then, so familiar it was as if he'd had it a thousand times before, although he never had. Not like this.

I want to kiss him.

But he couldn't do that. Eddie was leaving, and Buck wasn't going to do anything to mess up their friendship before he left.

—

The thought followed him around for the next month, as Eddie found a place (close but not too close to his parents and Christopher, with a pool already in the backyard) and put in an offer, as he put in his resignation and packed up his things and said goodbye to everyone, one by one.

Everyone was emotional about it. Buck's weren't the only tears shed at the goodbye (for now) party. That made it a little easier. It wasn't just him that loved Eddie, even if he was 98% sure nobody else there loved him in quite the same way.

But the thought followed Buck all the way out the front door with Eddie on that final morning, carrying the last boxes from the quiet, empty house. The weather had endeavored to comply with his mood, sending a rare storm through southern California the night before. In the pale morning light, rain silvered the edges of the trailer and the messy strands of Eddie's hair.

This was it.

They put the boxes in the trailer and Eddie pulled it closed, the metallic clank of the latch echoing in Buck's ears like some screwed up record playing the same five seconds of a song, over and over again.

Eddie turned to him, awkwardly clapping his hands together, an uncertain smile pressing into his cheeks.

There was now nothing left to say or do but make their goodbyes.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

"Have a good drive," Buck said suddenly, the words coming from somewhere outside himself. "Let me know when you get there."

The smile on Eddie's face shifted slightly, through some emotion Buck couldn't quite read. "Of course."

Silence drew long between them again, awkward in a way it never was. Buck's stomach twisted, his throat tight with some emotion he couldn't name. Was this it? His goodbye with Eddie?

"Well, I—"

"You should—"

They both stopped, each waiting for the other to continue.

This whole thing felt so wrong and it couldn't just be because he didn't want Eddie to go. It was wrong. But he couldn't keep him here, either.

Finally, Buck tried again, attempting to inject levity into his voice that he didn't feel. "You should probably get going, before traffic gets bad."

Amusement lifted the corner of Eddie's lips. "It's LA. Traffic is always bad."

Buck's heart curled up inside his chest. Why couldn't he do this right? "Yeah, I know, I just—"

"I know," Eddie interrupted quietly, stepping closer, his hand warm on Buck's shoulder. He looked... unhappy. "Sorry. I just—" he let out a low breath, shaking his head "—thanks."

Buck wanted to say it was okay, he understood, but he couldn't seem to speak. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Eddie and pulled him in close.

He tried to keep the hug light, friendly, but it was Eddie who squeezed him in closer, until they were fully pressed together and Buck couldn't help but hold him tightly in return.

They wouldn't have this again. Not in the same way, he was sure. The scent of Eddie's shampoo, the solidity and strength of his body in Buck's arms, the press of his face, so briefly, into the crook of Buck's neck. They fit so perfectly together, Buck never wanted to let go.

But eventually Eddie pulled back slightly, his grip loosening, and Buck made himself do the same. His heart felt like a fatal weight, pulling him underwater.

He didn't know why he did it. Perhaps it was that last second close together, their faces inches apart, the weight of Eddie's hands on his shoulders, or the way he hesitated when Buck went to pull away.

Or maybe it was the fear that he wasn't going to see Eddie again, not for a long time.

So Buck made the biggest mistake of his life: he leaned in and kissed Eddie.

The kiss was perfect, small and soft, Eddie's lips warm against his, the rain falling cool against his cheek. He felt suspended in space, his whole body lifted free from gravity's pull for just a moment. But it was wrong.

Eddie wasn't kissing back.

Fear slammed him back into himself, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Of course, Eddie didn't feel the same.

Fuck. He had screwed this up, worse than any other screw-up.

He pulled away, mind reeling with excuses he couldn't quite get out of his mouth. But when he opened his eyes, it wasn't to accusations, or anger, but to tears on Eddie's face. Buck's whole body went cold.

"Eddie," he said helplessly, "I'm—"

Eddie shook his head, something painful stealing across his expression. 

The silence between them felt heavy, pulling at Buck's heart. But before he could ask, or continue, Eddie wrapped a hand around his arm and pulled him in again.

And this time, Eddie kissed him. 

If the first kiss had felt perfect, this felt better—and worse. Eddie pulling him close, lips soft on his, breath fanning across his cheek. The small sound he made when Buck leaned further in, the way he rose into the kiss, like he couldn't get enough. 

Perfect, and just—Eddie. 

But it was worse when he pulled away. It was worse when he met Buck's gaze, that pain from before not gone, but even more deeply embedded. 

"I'm sorry," Eddie said, his voice rough. "I have to go." 

Buck swallowed around the lump in his throat, unable to do more than say, "Y-yeah. I know. Have a safe drive."

Eddie nodded, eyes tracing over Buck's face like he was afraid he'd forget it. "We'll talk later."

Buck nodded, unable to speak. 

Eddie gave him one last look, and then he was gone.

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 6

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 13.6k

warnings: namjoon and mai's wedding, mentions of anxiety and feelings of panic, oc blames herself for her past failed relationship, jk being jk, they slow dance, hana appearance (not the last), lots of feelings, explicit sexual content; soft romantic sex, looooots of kissing, brief nipple play, oral (f. receiving), he jerks it for two seconds, unprotected sex (she's on the pill, chill out) passionate missionary sex, domestic grocery shopping, angst angst angsty ending, lots of self doubt and tears 🫣

author's note: i apologize in advance 🫥😭😭 the angst has arrived LMAOOO y'all please don't hate my girl oc, she's doing her best, okay? anyway, i'd love to hear all of your thoughts on this one, your comments and asks always make my day !!!! lots of love my angels 🫂

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @livinluvl @chxiosworld @mimi1097 @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth @chimmisbae @daskewl @ramyun-h @heyitsroshni @matryoshka-poetry @almatiarau @gukkie7 @ambiee3 @blueberriesm @milkk1400 @yuriouki @lovelovethebeatles @somehowukook @deedeeps @emily-hung @jkaxl @bhonbhon @bearchermer

find tmhtl masterlist here

Jungkook has always been a fan of weddings. Some might call him a sap and make fun of him for getting excited about seeing the bride walk down the aisle, or for tearing up at the speeches, but he really doesn't care. He loves it. He especially loves that he gets to witness two of his closest friends tie the knot in just a couple of hours.

For you on the other hand, today is a bit less joyful. That's not to say you're not happy for Namjoon and Mai, because you are. You've grown to really like his friends and you hope their marriage is filled with nothing but happiness and endless love. You're just not a big lover of weddings in general. It could just be the resentment of your failed engagement that you've tucked away in your heart that seems to be clawing its way up to the surface. To you, weddings are just a reminder of everything you've lost.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" Jihyo asks, her eyes wide as she takes in your pyjama-clad appearance through the screen of her phone. She's already dressed and ready to go in a navy floor-length gown, looking her very best to impress Taehyung, who asked her to be his plus-one.

The FaceTime call was intended for her to ask your opinion on her choice of earrings, but instead, she's caught you in the middle of an anxious spiral.

"I don't know if I can do this," you blurt out, letting out a deep sigh.

"What? Of course you can-"

"No, seriously. I haven't been to a wedding since my cousin's last year and I only stayed for an hour then left," you mutter, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you agreed to be Jungkook's date to the wedding, you were still on cloud-nine after Jeju, your rose coloured glasses still perched snugly on the bridge of your nose. Now? Now you're second guessing everything, your brain yelling at you to take ten steps back.

"Okay, just...breathe. Everything's gonna be fine," Jihyo reassures you. "I know this is out of your comfort zone, but I promise, you're gonna be okay. What happened with Sunghoon doesn't define you. You can do this. You're gonna go and you're gonna dance with Sexyboots and you're gonna have champagne and you'll look hot doing it. And I'll be there if you need me."

Her words bring your anxiety down from a 10 to a 5.

"What if I cry?"

"Then you cry, so what?" She shrugs, offering you a soft smile. "That's okay. It's a wedding, you'll just blend in with everyone else who's crying."

She's got a good point.

"What if I throw up? You know I throw up when I'm really anxious."

"Then I'll just say you had some bad Chinese food. ___, I'm not letting you back out of this."

"Why nooot?" you whine, plopping down on your bed with a huff and a roll of your eyes.

"Because I'm not going to this wedding without you. And a little itty-bitty wedding does not have the power over you to make you this stressed out. Now get your ass up and go get dressed before Jungkook gets there and sees you like this."

You know you can't argue with Jihyo when she speaks in that tone. And besides, she's right, it's just a wedding. So what if your fiancé slept with one of your friends a month before your wedding? No big deal. You just have to put on your big girl panties and go.

After another twenty minutes of trying to find an excuse not to go, and ultimately failing, you force yourself to get up and take a shower, scrubbing your skin until it hurts in an attempt to distract your brain from impending doom. You work almost robotically, doing your hair and makeup on autopilot. When you open your closet to get your dress, you catch a glimpse of that pesky white tulle peeking out from behind the rest of the clothes, as if it's mocking you.

You'll have to throw that thing away one of these days.

By the time you've zipped up your dress, there's a knock at the front door. It's him. You rush to give yourself one last glance in the mirror, making sure every hair is in place before going to get the door.

"Hey, you- woah..." Jungkook's jaw goes slack, his eyes growing in size as he drinks you in. He swallows thickly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "You look...you're...wow..."

You'd think he was overreacting if you didn't feel the same about his attire. Seeing him in his tux, with his hair styled in that way that makes his face look extra chiselled, has your face flushing and your heart racing.

"You look...wow too," you chuckle, feeling a lot lighter than you did a minute ago. "I like your suit."

"I like your dress," he murmurs, his lungs feeling like he just ran up a flight of stairs. "You're gorgeous."

You want to tell him that he's gorgeous, but instead, you roll your eyes, grab your purse and kiss an unbothered Miso goodbye before making your way out. The short trip down to his car is silent, both of you feeling some nerves, both for very different reasons.

He opens the passenger side door for you and makes his way to the driver's seat, starting the route to the venue. He puts on some music while he drives, absentmindedly tapping his fingers along the steering wheel. He can sense how busy your brain is by the way you fidget with your hands in your lap, but he isn't quite sure how to approach the matter.

"Everything okay?" he asks, quickly glancing over at you before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Mhm," you nod, staring out the window. "Weddings just make me a bit emotional."

He wouldn't call the look on your face emotional, more so anxious, but he won't call you out for it. Instead he tries to lighten the mood, stepping around the obvious tension.

"Well, you can cry on my shoulder if you want," he smiles. "Thankfully my suit is black, so no one will ever notice if you get mascara on it."

You scoff, forcing a faint smile across your lips. "Right."

He keeps glancing your way, watching you intently. He looks as if he's trying to read your thoughts, but he's not Charles Xavier and he can't do that, so he settles on making lighthearted conversation until you reach the venue.

"Y'know, I'm not the best dancer but I do hope you'll save me a dance tonight," he murmurs, subtly glancing over at you.

"Please, I have two left feet," you scoff.

"Well, I happen to have two right feet, so I guess it works out then."

The smile that tugs at the corners of your lips is too strong to fight, so you give in and let it settle across your face.

When you arrive at the wedding venue, it looks like something out of a fairytale. It's a stunning outdoor ceremony, with rows of elegant chairs for guests to be seated and decorative flower arrangements, with a few violinists seated at the entrance, waiting for their cue to begin playing. The weather is warm with a slight breeze, the seasons slowly transitioning from summer to autumn, creating just the right temperature for a wedding.

Most of the other guests are already there when the two of you arrive. You spot his friends sitting in a row behind Namjoon and Mai's family members, everyone looking their best to celebrate the happy couple. You and Jungkook make your way over, sitting next to Jihyo and Taehyung, who have apparently been flirting like horny teenagers for the past thirty minutes, according to Yoongi.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Jihyo whispers while Jungkook and his friends make their way to the front to talk to a nervous-looking Namjoon.

"I'm good," you nod, not wanting to take away from Namjoon and Mai's big day.

She can see the slight unease on your face, but this is neither the time nor the place to do a deep dive on your personal issues, so she nods and takes your word for it. She'll speak to you about it tomorrow over a pint of ice cream and some Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

"You and Taehyung seem pretty cozy," you whisper, shooting her a little grin.

"He's so sweet," she sighs. "He brought me flowers when he came to pick me up at my apartment."

"You really like him, huh?"

She nods, smiling down at her lap. "I do, yeah...and that suit he's wearing makes me wanna suck his dick real bad."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter under your breath, looking around to make sure Namjoon and Mai's parents didn't hear that.

"What about you? Are things okay with...?" She gestures towards Jungkook with her eyes.

You look over at him, watching the way he laughs at something Hoseok said, the way his nose scrunches up and his eyes squeeze shut. He's beautiful in the late afternoon sunlight, his presence filling you with a warmth that overpowers the light autumn breeze.

"Yeah," you nod, feeling a smile start to tug at the corners of your lips as he makes his way over to take his seat next to you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, picking up on your stare.

You nod, leaning a bit closer to his side. Your smile reassures him that everything is more than okay. When you're with him, you're okay.

Jihyo watches the two of you with a soft smile on her face, picking up on the instant shift in your mood. You seem happier when he's near, your smile growing wider when he whispers in your ear to tell you that he likes your hair in this style, his fingers gently brushing a few stray strands behind your ear. Jihyo knows your feelings for him go way deeper than you'd like to admit, and when Taehyung makes a flirty comment about love being in the air, she can't agree more.

An announcement is made for everyone to take their seats, signaling that the ceremony is about to start. Everyone quiets down, the violinists getting their bows ready to begin playing the opening melody. Soon, the music starts and everyone watches as Mai's father leads her down the aisle, her dress trailing behind her with every step she takes. She looks like an angel draped in lace and tulle, her smile radiant as she walks towards the love of her life.

Your vision starts to blur with unshed tears as you glance over at the groom, watching as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay. He holds himself together as best he can when he shakes Mai's father's hand in a silent promise to take care of his daughter.

Namjoon takes one look at his bride and it's like everyone and everything else fades away. He takes her hands in his and vows to cherish her and protect her, to love her until they are both nothing but dust and bones. Mai reaches out to dry his tears, promising to love him through all of life's challenges, making a vow to be his wife now and forever.

There isn't a dry eye in sight, so you don't look out of place when the tears stream down your cheeks, putting up a good fight against the layers of setting spray plastered over your makeup. It's a hard moment for you, but you push through for Namjoon and Mai, and when the ceremony ends with a tearful kiss between the happy couple, you clap and cheer, and you wish them nothing but the best.

Everyone makes their way to the reception area after the ceremony. The marquee is breathtaking, draped in soft ivory fabrics that flutter gently in the early evening breeze, with twinkling fairy lights hanging overhead, casting a warm glow. Long tables are elegantly set throughout, each adorned with crisp white table linens, floral displays and flickering candles. As guests begin to gather inside, laughter and soft jazz music fill the air, creating a warm atmosphere that adds to the beauty of the surroundings.

You take your seat next to Jungkook, sitting at a table with Jihyo, Taehyung, Seokjin and Jisoo, and their two sons, Dohyun and Moonbin. Unfortunately, they had to leave their youngest at home with Jisoo's mom because he's a bit too young for such a long night out. Seated at the next table are Jimin, Hana, Yoongi and his date, Areum, and Hoseok and his date, Eunji, along with two of Namjoon's co-workers. Everyone mingles throughout dinner, enjoying the delicious spread of food and drinks.

"They grow up so fast," Seokjin teases. "It feels like just yesterday when Joon asked her to be his girlfriend."

"I remember him being so nervous to ask her out, spamming the group chat to let us know he was gonna do it," Jungkook chuckles.

"They make a beautiful couple," you muse quietly, looking over at Namjoon and Mai at the head table, Namjoon looking at his wife with stars in his eyes. It's the same look the man to your left gives you when you're not paying attention.

"They're gonna have the best sex on their honeymoon," Taehyung mutters, stuffing a huge wedge of roasted potato into his mouth.

"Language, Tae," Jisoo chides, trying to cover Dohyun and Moonbin's ears, even though the ten-year-old and seven-year-old have already heard and are now snickering amongst themselves.

"Honeymoon sex is the best sex," Seokjin grins smugly before taking a sip of his champagne, earning a swat from his wife.

"That's enough out of you," Jisoo grumbles, shaking her head.

"What?! It's true!" Seokjin chuckles, resting his arm over the back of her chair. "How do you think we made this little guy," he grins, reaching around her back to ruffle Dohyun's hair, earning a "Gross, dad!" from their eldest son.

"Where do you think we'll have our honeymoon?" Taehyung asks Jihyo. Normally, a woman would tell him he's crazy for making a joke like that after barely two months of flirty texts and a drunk hookup on the night they met. Jihyo, however, falls right into step alongside him.

"Maybe Italy. They have nice beaches," she smiles.

"I guess I should start practicing my Italian. All I know is ciao and spaghetti."

"Wow, you're an educator?" Seokjin scoffs.

"Hey, I teach English Lit, not Italian," he shrugs.

Jihyo laughs, making a comment about getting him into a speedo on an Italian beach, to which Taehyung responds with a joke about being The Rock's body double in Baywatch, earning a cackle from Seokjin.

"You're cute," Jihyo leans in to whisper, a smile breaking out on Taehyung's face.

"You're cute," he grins.

You watch from across the table as the two throw flirty words back and forth, clearly enjoying whatever it is the two of them have going on. They seem to pair well together. She laughs at his jokes, like, actually laughs. He seems to like making her laugh, cracking jokes just to see her reaction. It's sweet.

Dessert is served and speeches follow shortly after, some friends and family members saying a few heartfelt words. Mai's maid of honour, her sister, gives a speech about having an amazing older sister to look up to, and her father makes everyone tear up with his speech about letting go of his daughter and trusting another man to love and care for her. As the best man, Seokjin gives a particularly moving speech about watching his best friend, Namjoon, fall in love, pulling a few awww's from the guests. You hear a soft sniffle coming from your left, so you glance over at Jungkook to find him wiping his eye with his thumb, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Are you crying?" you whisper, forcing down a smile.

"No, I just...the flowers are irritating my allergies," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

You smile, finding it hard to resist leaning over to plant a kiss to his pouty lips. If it weren't for all these people, you probably would, but you can't risk letting everyone in on the feelings you harbour for him. Still, the risk of being caught doesn't stop you from reaching out for his hand under the table and absentmindedly playing with his fingers until they end up intertwined with yours.

Once the speeches are over, the live band starts back up, soft jazz music filling the marquee. A few guests even make their way onto the dance floor with their significant others while Namjoon and Mai start making their rounds to talk to their friends and family members. Jungkook gets up from his seat, taking the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he whispers. "I'll be right back, okay?"

You nod and watch as he walks off, occasionally greeting a few of Namjoon's relatives on the way to the bathroom. He seems to have a real way with people, Namjoon's grandmother greeting him like he's her own grandson. It's a strange feeling to see how people naturally gravitate towards him. He's charismatic in a soft-spoken, gentle kind of way. He's able to engage in conversation about basically anything. Dohyun and Moonbin call him Uncle Jungkook, the cool uncle who buys them Lego's and lets them take his cute dog on walks. He's kind, and polite, and he cries at weddings, and he radiates love. It's practically impossible not to love him, so you feel justified in your feelings when you see just how loved he is by everyone else around him.

Some of his friends make their way outside to get some fresh air, some going to get champagne at the bar area, while Jihyo gets spun around by Taehyung on the dance floor. Mai spots you sitting alone, so she makes her way over, trying not to mess up her dress when she sits down next to you.

"Hey, pretty lady," she smiles, looking even more radiant up close. "You having fun?"

"I am," you murmur, a soft smile gracing your face. "You make a beautiful bride, Mai."

Mai waves you off, playfully rolling her eyes. "Please, I cried all my makeup off."

"I think Namjoon might have cried more than you, so you're good," you tease.

She throws her head back in laughter, glancing over at her husband who seems to be having a heartfelt conversation with a few of his aunties. "Isn't it insane? I'm married to that guy."

You feel a pit start to grow in your stomach, but you smile and nod, and you make conversation to drown out the little voice in your head taunting you.

'It's all your own fault that you're not married.'

'Sunghoon was right, you prioritised your job and drove him away.'

'Jungkook won't want you when he realizes how much baggage you carry.'

"So," Mai lightly nudges your arm, pulling you out of your daze. "Where's your guy?"

The mention of Jungkook seems to soothe you. A smile threatens to break out across your face at her referring to him as your guy. Is he your guy? You want to deny it, but instead you indulge in the giddy feeling for a bit longer.

"He went to the bathroom. He should be back anytime now."

"What do you say, are you two next in line?" she teases, holding up her ring finger with a smirk on her face.

Please, as if you'd ever allow yourself to get as far as that again.

"Don't start that," you scoff, giving her a pointed look.

"Hey, I'm just saying. I saw the two of you earlier during dinner. He was practically drooling over you while you weren't looking."

"He was not."

"How long are we gonna keep doing this?" She chuckles, rolling her eyes. "You say you're just friends, then I say you're crazy because you're obviously-"

"We're obviously just two adults who get along," you shrug, feigning ignorance.

Mai watches the way you look down at your lap to avoid her eyes. She knows it's because you don't believe your own words, and she can see you clearly have more layers hiding beneath the surface.

"Look," she sighs, her tone turning softer. "I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I really like you and I think we're building a real friendship...and I can tell you might have some things holding you back from being honest with yourself."

You glance over at her, feeling naked under her gaze. She can see right through you, and you hate it. You hate that you can't run away from your baggage forever. You hate how right she is.

"___, I may not know everything and I don't mean to overstep, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong...but I see the way you look at each other. Friends don't look at or treat one another the way you do."

You can't say that she's wrong, so you don't say anything at all. You don't know how to say what you really feel. You don't know how to explain that you're so scared of getting hurt, so you don't allow yourself to indulge in the things that could end up hurting you. You want to be honest and shout out loud that you love him, that you want to be loved by him, but you find that it's easier to love him from a distance than to risk getting your heart broken again.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," she murmurs softly, offering you an apologetic smile.

You know she means well, and she hasn't said anything that isn't true. "No, no, it's, uhm...it's okay, Mai."

She excuses herself when Namjoon calls her over to join the conversation he's having with her parents, not leaving without a hug. She leans down and wraps her arms around your shoulders, whispering a soft, "Please, give him a chance," before walking off to join her husband.

You watch with a smile as Jihyo and Taehyung dance to an upbeat jazz song. He dips her as a grand finale, the song coming to an end with a saxophone and drum harmony. The band prepares for the next song as a female singer steps up to the mic, the opening melody of 'A love that will last' by Renee Olstead floating through the marquee. You're so caught up in watching the couples fill the dance floor, you almost don't notice the soft tap on your shoulder and the whisper of a velvety voice in your ear.

"I think you owe me a dance, Professor."

You glance up at Jungkook, your heart pounding in your ears. His hand is outstretched, palm up, waiting for yours.

"Jungkook," you breathe out a soft chuckle, as if he's crazy for even suggesting it.

"C'mon," he whispers, subtly cocking his head to the side. "One dance."

Your heart lurches at the thought of potentially embarrassing yourself. You haven't slow danced since your prom night, and even then, it was more of an awkward shuffle than anything remotely graceful, but the way he's looking at you has you nodding in resignation. "Okay...one dance..."

You hesitate for only a second before slipping your fingers into his. His grip is gentle, leading you to the dance floor with practiced ease. The music drifts through the marquee, a romantic melody wrapping around the two of you like a secret. His other hand finds the small of your back, and suddenly, you're closer than you expected. Jungkook sways with you, his movements effortless, like he's done this a million times in his head. His thumb brushes the back of your hand absentmindedly, a nervous habit or maybe something more. His gaze flickers down to you, dark eyes unreadable, but there's something tender about the way he looks at you, like you're more than just a habit he can't break, more than a friend. It's not the first time he's held you, not even the most intimate touch you've shared, but something about this moment feels so different.

"You really do look beautiful tonight," he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear over the music.

A warmth creeps up your spine. "You clean up pretty good yourself."

He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Instead, there's something wistful in the way he looks at you, something unsaid lingering between you.

You let your head rest lightly against his chest, just for a moment, just long enough to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath the layers of his suit. You breathe in his cologne, warm and familiar, a reminder of nights tangled in sheets and whispered confessions that never quite crossed the line.

Jungkook holds you like he's afraid to let go, like if he does, you'll slip through his fingers completely. There's a weight in his chest, a truth sitting heavy on his tongue, but he swallows it down.

"I remember dancing with you at that Christmas party four years ago," you muse, your voice soft, barely above a whisper.

His face breaks out into a grin. "God, we were so drunk that night."

The night everything came to be.

You breathe out a quiet chuckle before your face melts into something softer. "It didn't feel like this though."

Jungkook chuckles, a quiet, breathy sound against your ear. "No?"

You shake your head. "This is different. Feels like it actually…means something."

It slips out before you can stop it, and for a split second, neither of you move. The words hang between you. You feel Jungkook's hold tighten, just a fraction, before he exhales slowly.

"What if it always has?"

Your heart stutters.

Jungkook doesn't look at you when he says it, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder, like he's scared of what he might find in your eyes. But his hand at your waist lingers, his fingers flexing like he wants to pull you even closer, like he wants you to understand something he can't bring himself to say out loud.

You don't know how to respond, so you don't. Not yet. Instead, you let the music carry you, let yourself melt into the warmth of his embrace.

Your lack of reciprocation doesn't deter him. If anything, he holds you closer, his fingers curling into the fabric of your dress like he's memorizing the way it feels to hold you like this. Then he leans down, just enough that his lips brush your temple in the lightest of touches. He lingers for a second too long. A second that tells you everything his words can't.

And then, just like that, the song ends.

Jungkook steps back, forcing a small smile. "I should, uh, get us some drinks," he mutters, reluctantly putting space between you.

You nod, even though something inside you screams for him to stay, because for the first time, you realize that maybe you aren't the only one who's been pretending this whole time. Well, maybe he hasn't been pretending. Maybe you've just been too afraid to look a little closer, dig a little deeper. If you had, you would've noticed how brightly the truth shines in his big brown eyes.

You stand in the middle of the dance floor and watch as he walks off in the direction of the bar, disappearing into the sea of guests. You shouldn't be disappointed. You keep him at arm's length for a reason, yet that reason is starting to seem a bit hazy at the moment.

While he goes to get you some champagne and a water for himself—because he is ever the responsible driver—you take a moment to yourself, silently exiting the marquee to get some fresh air in a more secluded spot outside. The sky is illuminated by stars and twinkling lights draped throughout the garden outside, the music faintly drifting through the air in the background.

The night air is crisp against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the crowded reception. You inhale deeply, letting the coolness settle in your lungs, trying to still the racing thoughts in your head. The way Jungkook held you, the way his voice sounded, gentle and sincere.

You shake your head to clear it. This isn't new. You and Jungkook have always blurred the lines, dancing on the edge of something deeper without ever taking the plunge. He's your secret, your safe indulgence. But tonight...it's different.

You exhale, absentmindedly rubbing your hands over your arms as if that will do anything to settle the nervous energy buzzing beneath your skin. He said he'd get you a drink, and you wonder what's taking him so long. Maybe he got caught up in conversation with one of his friends or Namjoon's relatives, or maybe he's-

Your thoughts are cut off when you turn around and take a quick glance toward the marquee entrance, your stomach twisting. Jungkook stands near the bar, a glass of water in one hand, a flute of champagne in the other. But he's not alone.

Hana.

She leans in just a little too close, flashing that perfectly calculated smile of hers, the kind that makes your skin crawl. Her manicured fingers brush against his forearm as she laughs at something he said, which probably wasn't funny enough to warrant such a boisterous laugh.

You try to convince yourself it doesn't mean anything, that it's just Jungkook being Jungkook—too polite, too non-confrontational, too oblivious to the way women like Hana take an inch and twist it into a mile. But the longer you watch, the harder it gets to ignore the way she leans into him, the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the way she bats her lashes up at him. And the worst part is that he doesn't immediately pull away.

He doesn't flirt back. Surely not. But he doesn't shut her down either.

A bitter taste rises in your throat.

Maybe this is your fault. Maybe this is what happens when you pretend things don't matter when they do. When you are so incessant on keeping things casual, making sure nothing changes, that you take too long to acknowledge the truth staring right in your face.

Jungkook does mean something to you.

The idea of someone else wanting him makes something twist inside you, something hot and possessive and terrifyingly raw. You don’t even realize your fingers have curled into fists at your sides until Jungkook suddenly glances up, eyes sweeping the crowd as if searching for something. Or someone.

You.

The moment his gaze finds yours, something shifts. His expression softens, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly. Then, almost instinctively, he takes a step back from Hana, just enough to put space between them, to make his intentions clear.

Hana notices too. Her smile tightens as she follows his line of sight, her eyes narrowing when she spots you standing there. For a second, her lips part like she's about to say something, but Jungkook is already moving, leaving her behind without a second thought, heading straight for you.

Jungkook stops in front of you, holding out the flute of champagne with a faint smile. His eyes flicker over your face, searching, as if he can sense the storm brewing beneath your carefully crafted exterior.

"Thought I lost you for a second."

You force a small, hollow smile. "Well...you found me."

He studies you, eyes flickering across your face like he can see right through you. Maybe he can. So, you look away, pretending to sip your champagne even though your stomach is twisted in knots.

"Everything okay?" His voice is quiet, but it cuts through the noise in your head with ease.

You should say yes. Should flash him a smile, play it off like nothing's wrong, but the sight of Hana's hand on his arm is still burned into your mind, tangled up with memories you thought you buried long ago.

This isn't about Hana or Jungkook. It's about a different man who swore he loved you, who got down on one knee and asked you to spend forever with him, only to turn around and throw it all away.

Seven years.

You spent seven years with someone who once made you feel like the center of his world, until you weren't.

"You never made time for me."

Sunghoon's words had cut deeper than the betrayal itself, because in the end, he hadn't just broken your heart, he'd made you feel like it was your fault. Like if you had just been more for him, he wouldn't have strayed.

That is why you promised yourself that what you have with Jungkook is nothing more than convenience, that it doesn't matter if he ever falls for someone else, someone with fewer walls, someone who isn't afraid to love him the way he deserves. But standing here now, heart hammering in your chest as he watches you with quiet concern, you know with certainty that you've already broken that promise.

Jungkook stands before you, watching you with a quiet intensity. You know he's not Sunghoon, but that doesn't make it less terrifying.

You force a smile. "Yeah. Just needed some air, that's all."

Jungkook doesn't look convinced. His head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing. "You sure?"

You should deflect, should change the subject, but instead, the words slip out before you can stop them. "She likes you, you know."

Jungkook blinks, momentarily caught off guard. "Huh?"

You huff a quiet, humorless laugh, tilting your glass slightly in the direction Hana had been standing. "Hana."

Jungkook follows your gaze, then shakes his head with a scoff. "Hana likes attention."

You hum, taking a sip of champagne, but the uneasy feeling lingers. Not because you think he'd entertain her, but because you know there's nothing you can do if he ever decides to go for her instead. He's not your boyfriend. You made sure of that all by yourself.

"___, I hope you know that I'm not interested in her."

You weren't looking for reassurance, not really, but hearing him say it so plainly sends a warmth through your chest that you refuse to dwell on for too long.

You shrug, feigning indifference. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Jungkook."

Jungkook scoffs, as if he expected the indifference. "Maybe not," he murmurs, looking over at you. "But I want to."

You let out a slow breath, trying to shake the weight of the moment, the way his words settle deep in your chest. When you glance at Jungkook, he's watching you, not with pity or expectation, just there, a steady presence.

So, you do what you always do when things get too real. You deflect.

"I don't know," you hum, tilting your head, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. "You seemed pretty into that conversation. Maybe I should let you get back to it."

Jungkook groans, tipping his head back dramatically. "Oh my God, stop."

You grin up at him. "What? I'm just saying, I don't wanna stand in the way."

"Please," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing to stand in the way of."

You hum, swirling the champagne in your glass. "I don't know, Jungkook. Hana's got great hair. Seems like a solid choice."

"You have great hair."

"She's pretty," you mutter, looking back at the marquee in the distance.

Jungkook scoffs. "You're gorgeous. Now what?"

You stare at him for a second, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. He's too good at this, throwing you off, slipping in little compliments like they mean nothing. But they mean everything and he knows it.

"You're so annoying," you murmur, taking a sip of your champagne.

Jungkook grins, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. "And yet, you keep me around."

You roll your eyes, but there's no real bite to it. "Unfortunately."

He chuckles, then nudges your arm lightly with his elbow. "C'mon, ___, admit it. You'd be lost without me."

You raise a brow. "Lost?"

"Hopeless," he teases with a shrug. "Completely, utterly hopeless."

You huff, feigning exasperation. "I survived just fine before you, y'know."

His expression softens, just a little.

"I know," he murmurs, quieter this time. "But I like it better this way."

Your fingers tighten around your glass, heart stuttering in your chest, because damn it, so do you.

A cool breeze sweeps past, and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself to keep warm. Jungkook notices immediately. Of course he does. Without a word, he shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, his movements fluid, effortless, like it's second nature to him.

You glance up at him with wide eyes. "Aren't you going to get cold?"

"I'll survive," he shrugs, completely unfazed.

You pull the jacket tighter around yourself, the warmth of it sinking into your skin, carrying his signature scent. "You didn't have to do that."

Jungkook gives you a look. "You know I was never going to let you stand out here freezing."

Your lips twitch. "A gentleman, huh?"

"What, you didn't think I had it in me?"

"I mean… I have seen you trip over your own feet in the hallway at work."

Jungkook groans, biting back a smile. "Okay, first of all, that was years ago. Second of all, that floor was slippery, the janitor just mopped it."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Sure it was."

Jungkook lets out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

You grin, feeling lighter than you have all night. Maybe it's the warmth of his jacket, or the teasing glint in his eyes, or just the way that it's always been easy with him.

After a beat, Jungkook nudges your arm lightly. "You do look good in my jacket, though."

The comment is casual, offhanded, but there's something in his tone, something softer beneath the teasing that makes your stomach flip.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook hums, taking another sip of his water.

Your heart stumbles, but you roll your eyes, playing it cool. "Careful, Jeon. You almost sound like you're flirting with me."

"Would that be a bad thing?"

"Oh shush," you scoff, forcing down a smile.

The air feels different. The atmosphere is lighter, but charged with something else, something neither of you wants to name. Jungkook watches you, his gaze steady, thoughtful, like he's debating something in his head.

Another breeze sweeps past, and instinctively, you pull his jacket tighter around yourself. The movement makes him smile, just a little, like he finds it endearing. Then, without thinking, he reaches out. It's a small gesture, his fingers gently tugging at the lapel of his jacket, adjusting it over your shoulder, as if to make sure you're really warm enough. But the way he does it, the slow, deliberate movement, the way his fingers brush against your collarbone, sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

You glance up at him, your breath hitching. He's closer than you had realized. Close enough that you can see the way his lashes frame his dark eyes, the soft curve of his lips, the intensity in his gaze. Before you can say something about it, Jungkook moves.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Giving you everything opportunity to pull away.

He lifts a hand, fingers ghosting along your jaw, barely there, like he's afraid to break the moment. His gaze flickers to your lips, just for a second, and your breath catches in your throat.

And then he kisses you.

It's not urgent or demanding. It's careful. Considerate. Barely more than a brush of lips. It's a question, rather than a statement.

And God help you—you answer.

You let yourself sink into the feeling, let yourself feel the warmth of his lips, the steadiness of his hand on your cheek, the way everything else fades away when his lips touch yours.

It's over before you can even process it, before your mind can catch up with your heart. The night air feels cooler against your heated skin, and when you open your eyes, Jungkook is already watching you. His expression is unreadable, his breathing just the slightest bit uneven.

You swallow, your voice barely above a whisper. "What was that for?"

"I don't know," he murmurs. "Felt like the right thing to do."

It felt quite right to you too.

The rest of the evening passes in a haze of laughter and music. You make it back inside just in time for the bouquet toss, though, to your relief, you don't catch it. Taehyung looks mildly disappointed, teasing you about how he was hoping for some 'divine intervention' before Jihyo drags him away to dance.

Eventually, the celebration winds down, guests filtering out into the night. You find yourself outside again, rubbing your arms against the chill before Jungkook appears beside you, keys in hand.

"Ready to go home?" he asks, his voice low, warm.

You nod, walking back to the car.

The drive home is quiet but comfortable. Jungkook keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, fingers tapping absentmindedly. The streetlights cast golden streaks across his face, and every so often, you catch him glancing at you, like he wants to say something but keeps deciding against it.

When he pulls up in front of your apartment building, he shuts the engine off and looks over at you. It's silent, neither one of you making a move.

You hesitate for a second before reaching for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride-"

"Do you want me to walk you up?"

You meet his gaze, your heart racing. The weight of everything that happened tonight lingers between the two of you, something unspoken pressing at the edges.

"Yeah," you murmur. "I'd like that."

The elevator ride up is quiet, your pulse quickening with every passing second. When you reach your door, you fumble briefly with your keys before finally pushing it open, stepping inside. "You wanna come in for a bit?"

Jungkook leans against the doorframe, watching you. And then, after a beat, he nods and steps inside.

And just like that, you're alone together, away from the noise, away from the watchful eyes of friends and wedding guests, away from every excuse you could possibly use to avoid this moment.

You go to check on Miso, giving her some water and a treat, gently stroking her fur. She welcomes you home with a sleepy 'meow' before laying back down on her little bed in the corner of the living room. Jungkook stands in your dimly lit living room, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, watching you tend to Miso with an expression you can't quite decipher. There's something softer in his gaze, something almost reverent.

You swallow, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your heart is pounding. "Do you want something to drink?"

He shakes his head, lips tilting into a faint smirk. "No." He steps closer, gaze flickering over your face, then down to where his suit jacket hangs off your shoulders. "You gonna keep that?"

You clutch at the lapels instinctively. "I might."

His smirk widens. "Looks good on you."

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it's him, maybe it's you. All you know is that one second, there's space between you, and the next, he's cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, his lips on yours in a slow, soft kiss. It's not driven by impulse or the heat of the moment, and when Jungkook sighs against your lips, and pulls your waist closer to him, you have to break the kiss to catch your breath and steady your heartbeat.

"Do you...wanna help me out of this dress?" Your voice is almost too quiet to hear, but the smile on his face lets you know he heard you.

"It would be my pleasure," he murmurs softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth.

It's as if time slows down as you lead him to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. The dim glow from the city outside casts soft shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth in his dark eyes. And then, without another word, he leans in and kisses your lips. His hands slide up to cup your face, tilting your head just how he wants it.

You sigh against his mouth, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close.

His lips move down, trailing soft kisses along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shiver, and he feels it, his smile evident against your skin.

"Still cold?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck.

You shake your head. "No."

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His hands slide down, fingertips brushing along the suit jacket around your shoulders. "Can I?"

You nod, letting him remove the jacket before his fingers find the zipper of your dress, dragging it down excruciatingly slowly. The fabric loosens, slipping down your frame, pooling at your feet in a whisper of silk.

He exhales sharply, eyes darkening as he drinks you in, your body wrapped in nothing but scraps of lace.

"God," he breathes out, subtly shaking his head. "You're..."

You look up at him with a soft smile. "I'm…?"

Jungkook chuckles, but it's low, almost breathless. "You know what you are."

"Say it anyway," you whisper.

His fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your face up to his. "So...so beautiful."

And then he kisses you again.

It's slow, deliberate, like he's savoring every second, every soft sigh that escapes you. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you shiver at the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

Your fingers loosen his bow tie, then move onto the buttons of his dress shirt, opening them one by one. Jungkook watches you through hooded eyes, sighing as your lips move over his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his jaw. You push his shirt off shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, your lips moving down to his chest.

He gently slides his fingers into your hair and tilts your head back, kissing you once more. He sighs against your lips, his hands sliding down your sides to rest at your waist, his thumbs drawing slow circles against your skin. The feeling is intoxicating, he is intoxicating. The warmth of his body, the weight of his hands, the way he kisses you like he has all the time in the world.

You melt into him, your fingers splaying over his bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your palms. His lips move against yours in a way that makes your head spin, slow and deep and hypnotic.

Jungkook keeps his lips attached to yours as he leads you backwards towards your bed, gently laying you down on the mattress, his hands holding him up to hover over you. He trails kisses down the side of your neck, sucking on a few sensitive spots before reaching behind you, his hands sliding over the fabric of your bra.

"Can I?"

You nod, cupping his cheeks to pull him back in, needing him the same way you need air to breathe.

He unclasps your bra and slowly slides the lace down your shoulders, tossing it somewhere in your room for you to find tomorrow. He trails his kisses down to your collarbones and chest, his lips grazing the skin of your breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, more to himself than to you.

You sigh, your fingers sliding into his hair as he swirls his tongue around a nipple, wrapping his lips around it to suck. He does the same thing to the other nipple, his lips pressing tender kisses to your breasts.

He kisses down your stomach, smiling against your skin as you spread your legs for him, your sighs growing needier.

He lets his fingers trail up your inner thighs, making their way up to your hips, pulling the soft lace away from your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his fingers toying with the sides of your panties.

"Can I take these off?" he asks softly, pressing a gentle kiss right above the waistband, smiling as you whimper a breathy 'yes'.

He sits up and hooks a finger into either side of your panties, slowly dragging the fabric down your legs. His gaze is soft and appreciative as he takes in the sight of you bare and spread out for him.

His eyes move from your core to your face, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips as he looks into your eyes. He slowly trails a hand up your inner thigh, his fingers trailing through your wet folds. "God, you're so pretty," he sighs, his cock twitching in his pants.

You let out a soft gasp as he leans down to press a few feather-light kisses to your folds, the streetlights shining through the blinds, reflecting in his brown eyes.

He presses a kiss to your clit, his tongue peeking out to get a taste, and it's as if a switch goes off in his brain, his hands gripping your thighs to hold them open as his tongue traces along your pussy.

You moan, your back arching off the bed as he licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit, swirling his tongue to turn you into a moaning mess. You reach down to grab hold of his hair, not to tug, just to ground yourself. Your legs spread wider as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently before going back to long, determined licks.

"That feels...so good," you breathe out, glancing down at him to find his eyes on you, looking at you like he wants to make the most of this moment, the passion evident in his gaze.

He lets out a soft moan against you, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm to pleasure you. He can't get enough of your taste, looking like he's in a state of ecstasy. He can feel you trembling beneath his hands, your body responding to every lick and nibble.

He worships you with his mouth, taking his time, his tongue moving in circles, his hands holding you in place against his mouth. He can’t keep himself from grinding against the bed, feeling like he might explode from his pent up desire.

"Just like that," you moan, your body writhing beneath him, your back arching. "D-Don't stop..."

He can practically feel how close you are to your climax and it only spurs him on. His tongue laps through your folds before focusing solely on your clit, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds your thighs over his shoulders, preventing you from pulling away.

You hold his head in place, your muscles trembling, your moans growing louder as you get closer to the edge.

You gasp, your walls contracting repeatedly, your eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure starts to consume you whole. "'m gonna cum...!"

He keeps his pace, pushing your knees up to your chest to give him better access.

In a matter of seconds, your muscles completely tense up as you cum on his tongue, your moans bouncing off of your bedroom walls. He continues to slowly lick and kiss your clit until you can't take anymore.

His lips trail a slow path up your body, leaving a searing warmth in their wake. His breath is hot against your collarbone, his nose brushing against the side of your jaw before finally capturing your lips in a deep, unhurried kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"You taste like heaven," he whispers against your lips.

A bashful smile finds its way onto your face, your cheeks flushed. Your breath is still shaky, your body thrumming with heat as he kisses you. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer, needing more. You can still feel the remnants of your high, but it's not enough.

Your hands trail down his body to start unbuttoning his pants. "Let me return the favour," you whisper in his ear, slowly pulling down his zipper.

He groans as your hand slides into the front of his boxers, gently massaging his cock, his body shuddering. His eyes close involuntarily at the feeling of your hand on him, his brain short-circuiting.

Jungkook catches your wrist before you can go any further. His grip is gentle, his dark eyes locking onto yours with something deep and unspoken. He shakes his head, a small, almost nervous smile playing at his lips.

"Not tonight."

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Why not?"

Jungkook exhales slowly, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist. His gaze softens even more, and when he speaks, his voice is quieter, almost shy.

"Because I want to make love to you, ___."

Your breath catches in your chest. He wants to make love. The two of you have never done that before. You've never allowed it. You should correct him. You should remind him of the rules, of the boundaries you set.

But when he looks at you like that, with his heart in his eyes, the words die in your throat.

Your voice is a fragile whisper, your heart beating in your ears. "Okay."

He drags the tip of his nose along your cheek, lips brushing over your skin. "Are you sure?"

You nod, breathless.

"Need to hear you say it, baby."

The endearment sends heat through your body.

"I'm sure."

He kisses your lips for the hundredth time, pouring all of his feelings into you, like he's been waiting for this moment for far too long.

You help him out of his pants and boxers, letting out a soft giggle when his foot almost gets caught in the pant leg, his body moving before his brain can process what's happening.

He sits back to get a full view of your body laid out for him, his eyes trailing from your face, down to your breasts, and lastly, your sopping pussy. He groans as he wraps his hand around his cock, giving it some slow strokes, his fist squeezing harshly. The tip has already started leaking a pearl of precum, the shaft already fully erect.

He hovers over you, his lips curling against your skin as he reaches down, guiding the head to your entrance. He pushes in slowly, filling you inch by inch, stretching you in the most delicious way.

Sinking into you feels like coming home.

Jungkook's face twists in pleasure, his breath ragged, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He holds himself up on his forearm while his free hand slides down your body to hook your leg around his hip.

He groans, his forehead falling to your shoulder. "Fuck, you feel so good," he breathes.

You slide your hands around him to hold onto his back, pulling him closer, needing him as close as possible.

The sound of your moans send shivers down his spine. He moves slowly, deeply, his hips rolling into your with deliberate, passionate strokes, sending fire up your spine. His fingers dig into the skin of your thigh, letting out a breathless whimper as he sinks in as deep as he can possibly go.

Your breath stutters, your fingers clutching at his back, feeling his muscles contract under his skin.

Jungkook kisses the junction between your neck and shoulder, his hips rolling at a practiced, steady pace. "You take me so well, baby...this pussy feels so good wrapped around me..." His voice is low, breathy. "You're so fucking perfect."

Your nails dig into his skin, your eyes squeezing shut as your emotions start welling up, a harsh lump growing in your throat.

Jungkook lifts his head, cupping your face, his eyes dark and tender as they search yours. "Look at me, ___."

You do, and it almost steals the air from your lungs, his eyes boring into yours, showing you all the feelings he's harboured for you since the day he met you.

Your hands slide up to cup his jaw, pulling his face closer. "Jungkook…"

"I know, baby," he whispers, pressing soft, tender pecks to your lips, his hips rolling with a fierce intensity. "I've got you. Always."

He presses his lips to your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead. "You're everything, ___."

The lump in your throat grows heavier, but you force it down, willing yourself not to break down completely. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and allow yourself to get lost in him, giving yourself over to him in a way you never have before.

You want to tell him you love him.

Those three words sit heavily on your tongue, but you can't get yourself to say them. Not now, when your emotions are this high, when you're still trembling beneath him.

It's too real, and if it's real, it has the power to ruin you.

You show him with your body instead of your words, looking up into his eyes, pulling him impossibly close. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your lips seeking his in a slow, lingering kiss. You pour everything into it, every unspoken word, every confession you long to make.

Jungkook kisses you back just as deeply, his hands framing your face, his touch gentle, like he already knows. Like he's willing to wait.

His thrusts grow sloppier as the pleasure builds. Your hands grip his shoulders, your chest heaving, every thrust of his hips pushing you closer to cumming. His cock throbs inside you, but he's determined to make you cum before he does.

"Come on," Jungkook whispers against your lips, his voice thick with lust. "Let go for me, baby. You can do it. I'm...I'm right here."

His words send a shiver down your spine, feeling the familiar coil start to tighten in your stomach.

"I...I can't..." you gasp, the intensity of it feeling overwhelming.

"Yes, you can, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "Let it happen. I've got you, baby, I promise."

The pressure inside you finally bursts, and you're lost in the feeling of it, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of it all. With a soft, breathless cry, your body finally gives in, your climax surging through you in waves, your entire body trembling as you cling to him.

Jungkook isn't far behind. He groans low in his chest, his cum painting your walls in thick white ropes, his face buried into the crook of your neck as he rides out his high.

He presses a soft kiss to your skin, his breath shallow. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs against your neck, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

Your body shakes from the aftermath, your heart pounding in your chest, but for the first time in a long time, you don't feel empty. You don't feel alone. You just feel him all around you; all consuming.

He reluctantly parts from you to freshen up in the bathroom, coming back with a warm, wet washcloth to clean you off, making sure you're fully taken care of before making his way back to bed.

The room grows quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside and the sound of your slowed, steady breathing. The warmth of Jungkook's body lingers between your sheets, his arm draped across your waist as he holds you close, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against your stomach.

Neither of you speaks for a while, simply existing in the comfort of each other's presence. Your legs are tangled beneath the sheets, your bare skin still pressed together, and there's an intimacy in it that feels deeper than anything words could convey.

Jungkook sighs, shifting slightly to press a lazy kiss to your shoulder. "Are you okay?" His voice is softer now, like he's afraid of breaking whatever fragile thing hangs between you.

You nod against the pillow, your fingers grazing along the length of his arm. "I'm okay."

He hums in contentment, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your temple. "Good."

You should probably say more, clarify what tonight was, what it meant, but you can't bring yourself to speak. You simply close your eyes and let yourself melt into his warmth as he spoons you.

Jungkook shifts, resting his chin atop your head, his voice thick with sleep when he murmurs, "Stay here."

You scoff faintly. "I live here."

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back. "You know what I mean."

Your fingers find his, lacing together beneath the sheets, and as sleep starts to pull you under, you feel the softest brush of his lips against your hair.

"Goodnight, baby..."

Before you can think twice about how un-casual all of this is, before you can let yourself spiral, you whisper back, "Goodnight, Jungkook."

You wake up tangled in soft sheets and him, his arm draped over your waist, his breath steady against the nape of your neck. The early light filters through your window, casting a golden glow over the room.

For a while, you don't move. You just listen to the birds chirping outside and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then, as if sensing you're awake, Jungkook stirs. His arm tightens around you, his lips brushing lazily against your bare shoulder.

"Morning," he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

You smile, stretching your limbs. "Morning."

He hums, nuzzling into your skin, his voice muffled. "What time is it?"

You glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand. "Almost nine."

Jungkook groans dramatically, tightening his hold on you. "Too early."

You laugh, trying—and failing—to wiggle away. "It's not that early."

"It is." His grip loosens just enough for you to turn and face him. His hair is a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but he looks at you like you're the most interesting thing in the world.

"You're staring," you point out, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook smiles sleepily. "Can you blame me?"

Your face heats, and you roll your eyes. "Shut up."

He grins, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Never."

The warmth between you lingers as you stay in bed a little longer, exchanging lazy kisses, stealing moments that feel dangerously intimate. It's only when your stomach growls loudly that Jungkook finally pulls away, letting out a huff of laughter.

"Is that your way of asking for breakfast in bed?" he teases.

"I wish," you mumble. "Unfortunately, my fridge is basically empty. I was supposed to go grocery shopping today."

Jungkook sits up, stretching his arms over his head before leaning back on his hands, the sheets pooling around his waist. "Then let's go grocery shopping."

You blink up at him. "You want to come with me to the grocery store?"

"Of course," he shrugs, grinning. "What kind of man would I be if I let you carry all those bags by yourself?"

Is going grocery shopping something you should do together if you want to maintain anything remnants of boundaries? Probably not.

"What would you even wear? A tux?" you chuckle.

"I may or may not have a change of clothes in my trunk," he mumbles, giving you an almost guilty grin. "Y'know, just in case I end up spending the night at your place."

Oh well.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Fine. But you're driving."

The grocery store is surprisingly busy for a late Sunday morning, but Jungkook keeps your mood up. You watch, amused, as he inspects the produce with an intensity that makes it seem like he's solving a crime. He picks up a bell pepper and turns it over in his hands, then glances over at you.

"This is a good one," he declares.

You snort. "Oh, are you an expert?"

Jungkook nods solemnly. "Of course. I have a very refined eye for vegetables."

You shake your head, taking the pepper from him and tossing it into the cart. "Okay, vegetable connoisseur. What about fruit?"

His expression turns serious. "The fruit requires even greater precision." He steps toward the apples, picking one up and holding it to the light like a jeweler inspecting a diamond.

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. "And? What's the verdict?"

He nods once. "Acceptable."

You chuckle as you grab a few more apples and place them in a bag. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously helpful you mean,” he corrects, grinning.

It's easy, this whole thing. You browse the aisles while be pushes the cart, occasionally sneaking snacks into it when you're not looking. You catch him dropping a bag of chips in and you raise an eyebrow.

"I need those?"

"Absolutely," he nods, not missing a beat.

You roll your eyes but let him put the bag in the cart. It's for him, but you'll buy it as a way to have something that belongs to him in your apartment.

"Shit, I forgot to get my cereal," you sigh, already on the other side of the store. "Can you go and get it, please? It's in aisle six."

"Sure," he nods, handing you the cart.

"Thank you," you smile, watching him walk off.

You're still smiling when you turn the corner, your heart light from the previous few hours with Jungkook. Then a voice pulls you out of your little love bubble.

"Oh my god, ___?"

You barely have time to react before you're being pulled into a hug, the nostalgic scent of her floral perfume washing over you.

"Sian?" you gasp in surprise, pulling back to get a better look at your old high school friend.

"It's been forever!" she exclaims, her eyes wide as she takes you in. "I almost didn't recognize you, it's been so long. Look at you! You look good!”

You laugh, nodding along. "I could say the same about you. How have you been?"

"I'm doing well," she smiles, resting her hand on her hip. "I recently landed this great job at a new law firm. What about you?"

"I'm a professor at Yonsei University. I teach political science."

"I guess we're really grown ups now," she laughs.

You chuckle along, feeling the truth in her words. "How are things with Minho?"

Her smile falters for a fraction of a second, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, Minho and I broke up. Turns out he's just like every other guy," she scoffs, "Couldn't keep it in his pants."

Your stomach twists. "Oh, Sian....I'm so sorry."

She sighs, crossing her arms. "Don't be. Honestly, I should've seen it coming. I guess all men are the same in the end, aren't they?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You don't know what to say, so you offer a small, noncommittal hum.

Sian doesn't seem to notice your discomfort. She keeps going, rolling her eyes. "It's whatever. At least I found out before we got engaged. We were close to it but I guess I dodged a bullet."

Then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, "Speaking of which, have you heard? Apparently Sunghoon got married a few months ago."

The words hit you like a slap to the face. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

Sian doesn't notice. She keeps talking, oblivious to the way your body has suddenly gone rigid.

"Yeah, crazy, right? I heard his wife is pregnant, too. Due in a few months, I think." She shakes her head. "Guess he finally got his act together. Good for them, I suppose."

Your fingers tighten around the shopping cart.

Your ex-fiancé, the man who cheated on you and then blamed you for it, is married. He has a wife. A baby on the way. And yet, here you are, still hesitating, still doubting.

He cheated on you. But he's faithful to her. Was it you? Were you the problem all along?

You force a small laugh at something Sian says, nodding absentmindedly, but your mind has already started spiraling.

Jungkook returns just as you wrap up your conversation, a box of your favourite cereal in hand. He gives Sian a polite nod before turning to you, grinning.

"Miss me?" he teases, but the moment he sees your face, his smile falters. "Hey...what's wrong?"

You shake your head, forcing a tight-lipped smile. "Nothing. Just caught up with an old friend."

Jungkook doesn't buy it. His gaze searches yours, his brows furrowing. "You sure? You seem-"

"I said it's nothing, Jungkook," you snap before you can stop yourself, feeling guilty almost instantly.

His lips press together, the hurt flickering across his face so quickly you almost miss it.

He doesn’t push. He never does. He just nods slowly, letting the silence settle between you like an invisible wall.

"We should go," you mutter softly, already turning the cart toward the checkout without looking back.

The drive home is silent.

Jungkook doesn't say anything, but you feel his eyes flicking over at you every so often, like he's waiting for you to speak. To tell him what's wrong.

You don't.

Your thoughts have started racing and they just won't stop. You think about your past, about the seven years you wasted on a man who made you believe you weren't enough for him to remain faithful. And now he has a wife. A baby on the way. A family.

And here you are, falling into the same pattern.

Falling for Jungkook.

He's not Sunghoon, you know that, but what happens when he gets tired of waiting for you to let him in? What happens when you eventually realize you can't give him what he deserves?

It would be easier to end it now.

Before either of you get hurt.

Before you lose yourself in him completely.

The silence stretches on when you get back to your apartment. Jungkook carefully sets the grocery bags on the counter, his movements slow and calculated. He glances at you, his brows knitting together in quiet concern, but he still doesn't push, not yet.

Instead, he tries a softer approach.

"Hey." His voice is gentle, coaxing. "Wanna help me put these away?"

You should. You should do something, say something, but you can't bring yourself to move. Your arms stay crossed over your chest, your body stiff, your mind in a haze.

Jungkook watches you for a moment before sighing lightly. "Alright then," he murmurs, unpacking the bags himself.

The tension is unbearable.

He packs your groceries away, waiting for you to speak. When the silence becomes too much for him, he takes the plunge.

Jungkook exhales slowly. "___."

Your stomach tightens at the sound of your name on his lips.

"Talk to me." His voice is gentle, patient. "Please."

"There's nothing to talk about." Your voice is flat.

Jungkook tilts his head, studying you carefully. "Really? Because you've been completely silent since we left the store, barely looked at me, haven't said a word." He pauses. "That doesn't seem like nothing to me."

You press your lips together, shifting on your feet. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Okay." He nods slowly. "Then tell me and maybe I can help-"

You sigh. "Jungkook, just drop it."

He pauses.

"I just..." He pauses, looking for the right words to say. "I can tell you're upset and...I don't like seeing you like this."

The weight of his concern presses down on your chest, suffocating. You can't do this right now.

"I said I'm fine." Your voice comes out sharper than intended.

Jungkook lets out a short, humorless laugh. "You always say that."

"Why do you even care so much?"

The words hit him like a slap.

Jungkook blinks at you, taken aback by your sudden hostility. But then, something shifts in his expression, his heart physically breaking in his chest. His hands clench at his sides as he exhales through his nose.

And then, in a voice so quiet it almost doesn't reach you—

"Because I love you."

Your heart stops. Your breath stutters. Your pulse pounds violently in your ears.

Jungkook swallows, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving yours, practicing laying his entire soul at your feet. His eyes are glossy, his voice thick. "I love you, ___."

It's not loud. Not dramatic. Just honest.

And it terrifies you.

Jungkook takes a step closer, his eyes burning into yours. "I have loved you for such a long time...and I don't care if you try to push me away, or if you pretend like this is just sex, or if you act like what we have isn't real.” His voice wavers slightly, but his gaze doesn't. "Because I know it is."

Your heart pounds violently against your ribs.

You want to believe him. But the ugly, gnawing voice in your head tells you it's only a matter of time before he realizes you're not enough.

"You don’t love me," you whisper, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. "You think you do, but you don't."

His brows draw together, his face crumpling. "How can you say that?"

You swallow, blinking back the tears in your eyes. "Because you don't even know me, Jungkook."

His face twists, letting out a bitter scoff. "That's bullshit."

"Is it?" You laugh, but it's hollow and humourless. "You only know the parts of me I let you see! The nice parts. The parts that don't scare you away." Your voice wavers. "But the rest? The ugly, damaged parts? You don't know those. That's the real me, Jungkook. You don't love her."

Jungkook’s chest rises and falls unevenly.

"Then let me. Let me know you...all of you. Let me love the good parts and the bad and everything in between. Let me love you when you're messy and broken, and on the days when you feel like you can't get out of bed. Fuck, I wanna be with you, ___. I want all of you, not just the good parts. I want the pointless fights and the makeup sex after. I want the grocery runs when we run out of your favourite cereal. I wanna drive to work in the same car and then come home and have dinner together. I wanna slow dance with you in the middle of the night in the kitchen with the refrigerator light shining over us. I wanna cuddle and hold your hand in public and tell everyone that you're my girlfriend, because for fuck's sake, ___, I love you."

He's almost breathless by the time he gets it all out.

"Please...give me the chance to love you...please."

His words leave you utterly and completely speechless. You want to allow yourself to be loved by him, but your brain won't allow you to. The thought of experiencing all of that with him and then having it inevitably ripped away is what stops you from telling him you love him too.

"Jungkook...I can't...."

"Why not?"

Because you're terrified. Because Sunghoon made the same promises and still broke them. Because you know that once Jungkook sees the worst of you, he'll leave and it'll hurt, probably worse than it did with Sunghoon.

"I just can't, okay?!" Your voice grows softer. "I can't. You'll regret it."

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "God, why won't you let yourself be loved?"

You've asked yourself that question about a million times before.

Your hands tremble at your sides, your eyes burning, your body screaming at you to run. Then you do the only thing you know how to. You push him away and hurt him before he can hurt you.

"This was never supposed to be anything more than sex," you whisper.

Jungkook stills.

"That's all this ever was, Jungkook."

Jungkook lets out a shaky scoff, but his voice cracks. "You don't mean that."

"I do." You force the words out, your voice shaking.

"Tell me you don't love me back." He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and your breath stutters at the sheer heartbreak in his eyes. "Tell me you feel nothing for me. That this," he gestures between you, "Was never more than just sex to you."

The words are on the tip of your tongue.

Tell him.

Make it easier for him to walk away.

But the truth is lodged so deep in your throat, it physically hurts. And Jungkook sees it.

His face hardens, his jaw clenching. "That's what I thought."

You have no defence, so all you can do is resort back to shutting him out. Literally.

"Just go, Jungkook. It'll just be better for both of us in the long run."

"So that's it? You're just gonna throw this all away?"

You don't respond, looking down at the ground.

His face remains strong, even as the tears begin to fall down his cheeks, and you know you're not strong enough to look at him.

He nods in resignation and silently takes a step back, his sadness written across his face. Then another step. And then he turns to get his phone and his keys and walk to the front door.

Your chest constricts. You should say something. Stop him. Tell him the truth.

But you don't. It'll just be easier this way.

It has to be.

Jungkook turns his head to look back at you, his hand on the door handle, waiting for you to stop him and tell him that you love him. But you don't.

His lips start to part, like he wants to argue, like he wants to fight for you. But he doesn't. He doesn't have it in him anymore.

"I hope one day you'll be able to love yourself the way I love you."

He walks out without another glance back, the door shutting behind him. The second he's gone, you shatter.

It's like your body has locked up, frozen in place as the weight of everything crashes down all at once. Your breath shudders, coming in uneven gasps, your chest rising and falling in jagged movements.

And then, your knees buckle. You sink to the floor, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, as if that will somehow stop the flood of tears spilling down your cheeks.

Jungkook is gone.

You did this. You pushed him away. That's what you do. You get in your head and sabotage everything good in your life.

A sob rips through you, your shoulders shaking as you fold in on yourself. You don't know how long you stay like that, curled up on the floor, drowning in your own sorrow. Time feels meaningless when all you can hear is Jungkook's voice echoing in your head, over and over again.

He looked so wounded when he told you he loved you. So open and vulnerable. And what did you do? You shut him out. You let your own fear win. Because that's all you are now, a shell of the person you used to be. Afraid and untrusting.

Sunghoon made sure of that.

The memory of him slams into you with brutal force. His voice, his touch, the way he used to hold you at night and tell you he loved you, promising you a lifetime, only to go and stick his dick in another woman.

"I had no choice, ___. You were never around. You put everything and everyone before me."

"I needed someone who actually made me feel like a man."

"You did this to us."

His words haunt you. They never stopped haunting you, no matter how hard you try to run from them. And now, as you sit here, crying on your kitchen floor, you realize that you've been running ever since.

Every step you've taken since that night you caught him has been in fear of being that girl again. The one who gives too much of herself, the one who isn't enough, the one who ends up getting traded in.

That voice in your head tells you that Jungkook would do the same, eventually.

Maybe not today.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But one day.

One day, he'd wake up and realize you aren't worth it.

You thought that if you ended it before he got the chance to see how damaged you really are, that would make it hurt less. And yet, the look on his face will forever be engraved in your brain, taunting you, reminding you of the pain you've caused him.

The sobs come harder, your entire body shaking until you can barely breathe. You press your forehead to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut.

And then you feel it, a soft nudge against your leg.

You glance down to see Miso weaving between your ankles, her big eyes looking up at you with confusion and concern. She meows softly, rubbing her head against your shin, as if she can sense that something is wrong.

A broken sob escapes your lips as you scoop her up into your arms. She doesn’t resist, only tucks herself into your chest, her purring serving as a soothing vibration against your skin.

You bury your face into her fur, fresh tears spilling over. "I'm okay, baby," you whisper, though your voice cracks with the weight of the lie. She just stays curled against you, warm and steady, like she's determined to absorb every ounce of your sadness.

You carry her to the couch, curling up with her in your lap, absentmindedly running your fingers through her soft fur. The apartment still smells like Jungkook, his cologne, his warmth, and it only makes the ache in your chest worse.

You don't know how to fix this. You don't even know if you can. But one thing is painfully, devastatingly clear.

You broke two hearts today.

< Part 5 || Part 6.5 >

[muqingslover]

[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

[valiwrites]

reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

part1 part2

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

masterlist

f1fannews ✔︎

liked by 735k users

f1fannews new videos of our favorite driver just dropped!! seriously, this guy is something else. the energy he brings and the pure heart he’s got—it's rare to see someone so genuine and down to earth. feel lucky to be able to watch him grow and do his thing. can't wait to see what’s next for him, he’s just getting started. truly blessed to be a fan of someone like him.

view all 98k comments

user1 this is co cute he's wearing the senna shirt!!

user2 he's literally impersonating him tf

user3 how is he impersonating him what?? y'all are bothered by anything

user2 it's the fact that he hates being compared to senna yet he always makes a way to wear his merch 🙄

user4 the second slide is so adorable tho look at his smile 🥺

user5 he's just so happy to be there

user6 is there any way to buy that shirt he's wearing??

f1fannews yes!! just go on google and search senna shop and you'll find it there

user7 is this gonna be in the new drive to survive season?

f1fannews hopefully we see more of nico next season!

user8 he looks like christian coulson on the second video

user9 wait i kinds see it

user10 it's the angle 😭😭

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by mclaren, lando, valeyellow46, f1, maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 2.1m others

nicosantos this team makes me wanna commit a felony...i’m out here giving it my all, but the car’s acting like it’s on vacation. like, bro, are we racing or taking a nap? i swear, i’m ready to have a serious chat with it. still, out here doing laps like a champ, pretending i’m not crying inside. send help... and maybe some new tires.

view all 837k comments

lando 😭😭

nicosantos fuck you too

user1 lando NORIZZ help

user2 my boy finally lost it 😭

user3 the caption is sending me

user4 lando nowins

user5 is he starting his beef with mclaren or lando hello

user6 probably both lmao watch ww3 happen

sebastianvettel what got you so mad sweetie

nicosantos you're next vettel

user7 SWEETIE LMAOO IM DYING

user8 OOP, nico's officially in his "i'm done" phase

user9 someone get this man a snack, he’s mad hungry for drama

user10 nico really out here acting like he’s the main character, huh?

user11 yo be bothered by anyone else

user12 nico santos, the personification of “don’t come for me unless I send for you”… but we didn’t send for you.

nicosantos what does that even mean 😭

enews ✔︎

liked by 123k users

enews there are rumors floating around that our mclaren rising star, nico santos, is having some heated convos with mclaren principal andrea stella about possibly leaving the team. but are they true? is our fave driver sticking with mclaren or moving on to another team? which one though? stay tuned, things are getting spicy

view all 54k comments

user1 fr hoping nico stays with mclaren, he’s got mad potential, don’t mess this up!

user2 if he’s all talk and no results, maybe it’s time to go. mclaren doesn’t need the headache

user3 he's literally one of the best drivers out there

user2 i don't see a championship yet

user3 noo nicooo

user4 you'll survive

user5 he’s been putting in the work, mclaren’s the place for him to keep growing

user6 if he can't work with the team then he's not good for it (not hating just pointing out the facts)

user7 as much as i hate to agree with you i do. bc nico is so good at what he does and if he doesn't like it at mclaren he should leave

[hazydoe]

Buffalo 66

Warning +18 only kidnapping, non-consensual situations,sexual content,emotional manipulation,sex lol,extortion, jail,daddy kink , age-gap.

Note:I was inspired by Buffalo 66, it's one of my favorite movies, and one of the ones I talk about the most in my classes as a film student n Happy Valentine's Day ❤️

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance if I make a mistake

Joel wasn’t good with words. He never had been. But now, more than ever, he needed someone—and above all, he needed money to start over. And there you were, at the wrong time, or perhaps the right one. He saw you leaving the store, wearing that light blue dress and carrying a brown paper bag in your hand, a faint smile on your lips. He didn’t know why he chose you. Maybe it was because you seemed kind, or maybe because you were the first person he saw. It didn’t matter. Joel needed something, someone, and you were there.

He approached you with quick steps, his breathing uneven from the anxiety consuming him. He didn’t have a weapon, not even a convincing threat. All he had were his clumsy, desperate words.

“I need you to come with me,” he said, his voice rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days.

You stopped, looking at him with a mix of surprise and fear. Your eyes widened slightly, and you took a step back, clutching the bag to your chest like a shield.

“What? No, I’m not going with you,” you said, your voice trembling but firm.

Joel felt a knot in his stomach. He hadn’t expected you to resist. He hadn’t thought about that. But he couldn’t give up. Not now. He had just gotten out of prison, and he needed money.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I just need… I need you to come with me. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Your eyes scrutinized him, searching for any sign of a lie, of danger. Joel didn’t know what you were seeing, but he hoped it was something that would make you change your mind. For a moment, he thought you’d leave, that you’d scream for help or just run away. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed there, looking at him, as if you were trying to understand him.

“Why?” you finally asked, your voice soft but cautious. “Why me?”

Joel didn’t have a good answer. He didn’t have any answer, really. He just knew he couldn’t be alone. Not again.

“Because… because I don’t have anyone else, and I need something,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

There was an uncomfortable silence as you studied him. Joel didn’t know what you were thinking, but he was sure you’d leave, that you’d decide it wasn’t worth risking yourself for a stranger. But you didn’t. Instead, you nodded slowly, as if you’d decided to give him a chance.

“I don’t have money,” you said. “I work as a waitress and barely make ends meet.” Joel’s anxiety spiked—it was worse than kidnapping a defenseless girl, kidnapping her and getting nothing in return.

Joel nodded, thinking of the quickest solution: getting rid of you or finding some way to profit from you. He didn’t know if you were incredibly brave or just naive, but it didn’t matter. He led you to his car, an old sedan that smelled like cigarettes and desperation. He didn’t say a word as he drove, his hands gripping the wheel as if it were the only thing keeping him sane. You didn’t speak either, but you didn’t seem comfortable. You sat there, staring out the window, your hands clenched in your lap, as if you were ready to bolt at any moment.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked, breaking the silence.

“To a motel,” Joel replied evasively. “I just… need a place to think.”

It wasn’t an answer, but you didn’t press further. Instead, you leaned back in the seat, as if trying to calm yourself. Joel couldn’t understand you. Why weren’t you screaming? Why weren’t you trying to escape? It was as if you’d decided to trust him, even if just a little.

They arrived at the motel, a cheap, rundown place on the outskirts of the city. Joel parked the car and looked at you, as if expecting you to resist again. But you simply got out of the car and followed him to the room, a mix of fear and determination in your eyes.

The room was as depressing as he was: an unmade bed, a flickering lamp, and a musty smell that clung to the air. Joel sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face. He didn’t know what to do now. He hadn’t planned this. He hadn’t planned anything.

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked, standing near the door, as if ready to run at any moment.

Joel didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling, the desperation consuming him, the need to have someone, anyone, by his side.

“I needed someone,” he finally murmured, his voice barely audible. “And you were there.”

There was another silence, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if both of you understood that this didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter. Joel looked at you, and for the first time in a long time, he felt something other than emptiness.

“What now?” you asked, a mix of fear and curiosity in your voice.

Joel thought for a moment before speaking. “Do you have family?” he asked.

“They live outside the city and don’t have much money. They live off government checks,” you replied.

Joel stood up in frustration. It had all been for nothing. He could go back to prison for kidnapping a girl, even if only for a short time.

You approached him slowly, as if trying not to scare him. Joel looked at you, confused but grateful. He didn’t know what you were doing, but he didn’t want you to stop. You sat on the bed, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You were just there, in silence, sharing the weight of the world.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Joel murmured, his voice breaking. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, his patience wearing thin.

“Yes, but I don’t think he’d pay much for me,” you replied, placing a hand on his.

Joel looked at your hand as if he didn’t know what to do with it. But then, slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours. His hand was cold, but there was a spark of warmth in his touch, as if something in him was still alive.

“Call him,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you leaned closer to him, until your lips met his in a soft but meaningful kiss. Joel didn’t know if this was real, if you were real, but in that moment, he didn’t care. Because, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel alone. And that was enough.

Joel couldn’t believe what he was about to do. The line between desperation and madness had blurred completely, and now, there you were, sitting on the motel bed, phone in hand, with your boyfriend on the other end of the line. He watched you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of guilt and desire, as he approached slowly, like a predator who knew he had his prey exactly where he wanted it.

“Tell him I have you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough but laced with an intensity that made you shiver. “Tell him if he wants to see you again, he’ll have to pay.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, Joel thought you might refuse. But then, you nodded slowly, bringing the phone to your ear. Your hands trembled slightly as you dialed the number, and Joel couldn’t help but notice how you bit your lower lip, a gesture that betrayed your nervousness.

“Hi,” you said into the phone, your voice soft but clear. “It’s me. I’m… I’m okay, but I need you to do something for me.”

Joel moved closer, his hands finding your waist as you spoke to your boyfriend. You felt your body tense under his touch, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kept talking, your voice trembling but firm.

“Yes, he wants money,” you continued, your eyes fixed on Joel. “I don’t know how much, but… please, do it. I don’t want him to hurt me.”

Joel felt a knot in his stomach as he heard your words, but he didn’t stop. His hands slid over your body, exploring every curve with a mix of desire and possessiveness. He looked at you, searching for some sign of rejection, but he didn’t find it. Instead, he saw something in your eyes that made him keep going: a surrender, an acceptance of what was about to happen.

“Tell him how much,” Joel murmured, his lips brushing your ear as you spoke. “Tell him he has an hour.”

Your words faltered slightly as Joel began to slide his hands under your dress, his fingers finding the soft skin of your thighs. You felt your breathing quicken, your body responding to his touch despite the situation. Joel wasn’t giving you a choice, but you didn’t seem to want to stop him either.

“Yes, one hour,” you repeated into the phone, your voice now more shaky. “Please, hurry.”

When you hung up the phone, Joel didn’t give you time to think. His lips found yours in a slow but passionate kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if they were territories to conquer. You let yourself go, your own hands finding his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t resist,” Joel murmured, his voice heavy with desire. “You know you don’t want to.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you gave in to the sensation, to the intensity of the moment. Joel explored you with his hands, every touch filled with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Your soft moans urged him on, driving him to lose himself in you, in the feeling that, for a moment, he wasn’t alone.

Joel sat near the head of the bed, his gaze lifting to meet yours. He looked at you the way a hunter looks at his prey. “Take off that dress,” he said, watching you intently.

You pulled at the sleeves of your light blue dress and slowly slid it down, stepping out of your silver ballet flats. All you had on was a simple blue lingerie set, a gift from your boyfriend for Valentine’s Day.

“Come here, doll. Sit on daddy’s lap,” he said. You moved closer and sat on his lap, feeling how hard he was beneath you.

He grabbed your waist and unhooked your bra, cupping your breasts in his rough hands. “Your breasts are beautiful, so soft. Your boyfriend’s an idiot. He’s paying for me to fuck you, and here you are, taking off the dress and lingerie he probably gave you for Valentine’s Day.”

He slid your panties off, and you unzipped his worn-out jeans. He pulled down his boxers, and you saw his hard member—it was big and thick. You’d never been with anyone but your boyfriend.

“Ride me, sweetheart,” he said, noticing your hesitation. “Come on, do it, baby. Ride me.”

You climbed onto him, feeling the coarse hair on his legs and his rough hands gripping your waist.

You moved on him, your eyes locked on his face—weathered by time and age, his beard, every detail of him. You could see the pleasure in his expression. He had chosen you. He could have kidnapped any other girl, but he chose you. (I don’t know why, but this made me laugh.)

You moved as best as you could, his size making it challenging. You could feel your breaths quickening.

“Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that. I haven’t been bad to you. I think I deserve it,” Joel said, his words only motivating you to move more. He watched you from below, occasionally spanking you and smiling.

You let out a loud moan of pleasure as you rode him more recklessly. After a moment, you felt him grip your waist tightly and release inside you.

“You’re such a good girl for daddy. You made me come so good,” Joel said as he lifted you off him. His seed dripped out of you.

Joel held you, his strong arms wrapping around you in an embrace that seemed to say more than his words ever could. He didn’t know how he had gotten to this point, but in that moment, he didn’t care. Because, for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel alone.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, his voice heavy with vulnerability. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, curling up against him. “I’m here.”

But reality soon caught up with them. The phone rang, and Joel knew it was time to collect his reward. He dressed quickly, avoiding your gaze as he left the room. He didn’t want to see you go, but he knew he had no other choice.

When he returned, money in hand, he found you sitting on the bed, looking at him with those eyes that seemed to see him for who he truly was: a broken man, lost in his own despair.

“What are you going to do now?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern.

Joel didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t have a plan, no place to go. But for the first time in a long time, he felt that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, sitting down beside you.

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you took his hand and squeezed it firmly, as if you were trying to tell him that, despite everything, he wasn’t alone.

[flippinpancakes64]

How would the cullens (separately) react to a really flirtatious reader. Like where reader makes flirtatious jokes and comments about them all the time and how they would react to the reader doing that in front of other people?

The Cullens with a flirty! Reader

Am I back in my Twilight phase? Who knows. Only time will tell.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He can hear them before you speak

And if he could blush, he would

He’s one of the more traditional people, probably the most stuck in his ways out of all of them

All that to say he goes crazy over an ankle showing

Any comments you make about him have him (mentally) blushing and telling you to stop

Now don’t get me wrong, he can dish it out too

But only in private

The moment he hears you formulating a flirty thought in your brain, his hand is covering your mouth

You rarely ever get the jump on him

He might let you speak your mind in private

But you can already forget about saying anything with others around

Alice:

She would beat you to it every single time

She’s the flirty type

Y’all match each other’s freaks

You two have had compliment wars where you guys just go back and forth flirting

She loves it though

Every compliment, every innuendo, makes her fall deeper in love with you

And if you go out of your way to flirt with her in public, she goes feral

She loves being loved and you are more than happy to do that for her

Also you can’t embarrass her

You’re talking about how sexy she looks in that dress in front of a group of classmates?

She doesn’t care

She’ll retort back about how she can’t wait to get you back home later

When they go low I go lower type beat

Jasper:

Bro is a Casanova

Absolute sweet talker

But only in private

The moment you try to flirt with him outside of the confines of your or his rooms, he’s out of his element

Again, if vampires could blush, his face would be bright red

He always gets mildly annoyed when you say insinuating stuff in public

Not actually annoyed but more of like a

“Come on, really? Now? Here?”

The truth is that he loves the attention

Just maybe not outside of the bedroom

Rosalie:

She can def take it and dish it out

If you two are together, she is your ride or die

And she wants everyone to know

She’s not shy about flirting with you in public

And she never says no to you flirting with her

She welcomes it, actually

She loves the idea of fully being someone’s

Of her partner not being afraid to show her off and publicly admit how much they love her

Some would call it vanity

Or ego

But she calls it love

Emmett:

Oh sweet Emmett

He loves it

No ifs ands or buts

He feels like he’s on cloud nine when you flirt with him

And trust me, whatever you’ve got to say, he has much worse

I think he has a dirty mind

Definitely similar to Alice in the if you go low I go lower department

You’re out with friends and you make a flirty comment?

He’s going to go on a whole rant about how much he loves *insert specific body part of yours*

So yeah he basically has no shame

Say what you want

Just be prepared to be outdone

Esme:

I feel like she’s similar to Edward in this department

She loves the flirty compliments in private

But she gets all flustered in public

Cause wdym you’re at the store with her and now you’re talking about melons??

She’s gonna leave you behind to find your own way back

She gets embarrassed in private too

But it’s not as bad as in public

At least in private yall are left to yourselves

(Save for Edward unwillingly eavesdropping)

Definitely the type to smack you playfully

“Babe are you from tennessee? Cause I’m tryin-to-see them titti-“

*Smack* “Not another word.”

Carlisle:

He thinks it’s funny

He doesn’t really take it too seriously

You like his man boobs?

That’s nice sweetie

Very pacifistic about it

Doesn’t care if you’re in public or private

He loves you and your antics either way

The only time I could really see him caring would be if you came to visit him at work

As long as he’s wearing his coat, he needs to be professional

So that’s where he draws the line

Vampire! Bella:

I get mixed feelings about her

I can’t decide if she would love it or absolutely hate it

On the one hand, she would definitely love the silly jokes and all the attention

She has lower self esteem, and being able to know for sure that your partner finds you desirable is a great thing

On the other hand

Whenever you flirt with her in public she feels like she’s gonna die

She knows it doesn’t really matter

She’s a Cullen now

But she’ll be damned if that little anxious voice in the back of her head isn’t still there

[lostinlovingrevery]

Old man Logan with reader who is lonely, has no friends but is still a ray of sunshine with him, always trying to impress him and give him pretty gifts and getting all dolled up for him. She is sad inside though, apart from being his boyfriend, he is her only friend

My Ray Of Sunshine (Why Are You So Sad?)

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay! Started angsty, but I wanted it to be happy for both reader and Logan in the end. Loneliness is an awful feeling (smth I'm all too familiar with) If anyone ever needs to talk, my inbox is always open!! I had a little trouble figuring out where to go with this, so I hope this satisfies you!

Plot: You and Logan have been dating for some time, but you still feel the intense loneliness that wraps it's arms around you, him being the only one in your life - and you feel like he's not honest with you.

Warnings: Angsty, slight depression, mention of loneliness, happy endings

Word Count: 2021

"Hi Lo," You cooed as you answered the phone, a smile stretching across your face.

"Hey sunshine," You heard his gruff voice on the other line, giving your heart a flutter. You always loved the sound of his voice, no matter how gruff and cranky he could sound - he never takes it out on you though.

"You still coming over tonight?" You ask as you walk across the room, your fingers tapping along the small box that sat on your desk. A present you decided to get Logan, a nice little silver watch he can wear. There was a moment of silence, "Lo?"

A small sigh,

"Sorry. I can't. I have to work."

Your face fell, but you took a deep breath. "Oh, that's alright!" You say, putting on your best happy-go-lucky voice. You didn't want him to feel bad, just by the tone of his voice you could tell he was having a bad day. "We'll plan for another night baby. You get a request?"

"Yeah, Bachelors party." He says. "Big payout."

"Oooh....Nice paycheck then huh? You can make it up to me later by taking me out somewhere nice then." You tease. You couldn't see the fond smile on his face, but you could picture it.

"Yeah. We'll plan on it. Promise." He says. You chewed on your lip, as you felt that swell of emptiness build up inside you.

Another night alone.

"Sunshine?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts. "Sorry, sorry-" You laughed. "Zoned out again. What?"

"I gotta go, got a job. I'll call you later, or in the morning. That alright?"

"Yes, of course." You smiled. "Be safe, okay tough guy?"

You heard a warm chuckle, which made you relax. "Yeah, I will. See you doll."

You heard the phone beep and sighed. Alright.

You and Logan had been dating for a little bit. Meeting in a small little diner that you waitress at. It started as harmless flirting, but then you both managed to find yourself able to talk to each other so easily. Logan listened to you, seemed so openly accepting of you. How could you not be drawn to him?

You thought yourself a little ridiculous for gaining a crush on an older man like Logan, but then his weathered charm got to you - and you just couldn't help it. You'd slip him extra treats on the down-low, not charging him for them. An extra cup of coffee, a slice of apple pie, once you even managed to slip him a stack of pancakes. He'd smile at you and your antics as you slide the plate across the counter and give him a wink- his smile being something tired yet warm that made your knees weak and butterflies shoot through you.

You put more effort into your appearance, especially when you knew he was going to be there. Dolling yourself up - not your usual thing to do but when you got a man like Logan coming around...Well, it's hard not to want to look pretty for him.

It was you that finally convinced him to go on a date with you, and you surprised him by taking him to a gorgeous museum the next city over. You had wondered initially if he scoff at that- him being the gruff and older man he is, but he seemed to really enjoy it. He listened to you ramble on and on about Vincent Van Gogh, one of your favorite painters as you listed everything you knew about him, explaining the misconceptions about him as a painter and a person.

You took the charge of the relationship that formed between you. You planned dates, which seemed to make Logan happy- your infectious happiness- not rubbing off on him but more giving him some much needed relief in what you must believe is a very stressful life for him. He deemed you his sunshine, a pet-name you wore with pride.

You believe it's stressful- or rather assume. He never really told you about his personal life. You know he was a limo driver, you know he lived on the outskirts of town - you never been where he lived. He mentioned something about taking care of his father. He's shared a few stories- always seemingly missing information in them like he was purposely leaving out parts of them.

It made it worse by the fact that he really is the only person in your life right now. You adored Logan and did everything you could to make him happy because he was the only one to give your love to. You spend the time you can together, when he visits your work, or when he comes and stays with you for the night. He's busy though, so he's not really there as often as you wish he was.

Actually, you probably love him. You haven't told him that though. You always feel though that he's hiding something from you. It's disheartening really, he'll listen to you, he's heard your secrets but you never hear his. He refuses to bring you to his place, making some excuse that yours was nicer and maybe it was but you didn't care about that. It created a space between you, something you're not sure if Logan recognizes himself.

You moved to change out of the pretty yellow dress you had on to see Logan, wiping your makeup off and pulling your hair into a messy bun as you prepared to spiral into a night of anxiety, depression, and wine.

You settled on your couch, flipping the tv on, surfing through channel after channel. The night got darker and you got more and more tired. The shadows of your living room, seemingly your only company for tonight, closing in on you as the tv flickered over your curled up form.

Your eyelids grew heavy, as your felt the sinking feeling of your heart, reminding you that you were by yourself again. Inevitably wondering when will Logan leave?

Heavy knocks on your door startled you, as you sat up on the couch and confusion stretched across your face. Worry settled in you, as you had to wonder what shifty characters were knocking on your door at night?

You stood up and crossed the apartment, peeking through the peephole of your door, you're shocked to find Logan standing there. You gasped, stepping back to unlock your door and open it.

"Logan?"

"Hi sunshine." He greeted you, and smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his smile lines became more prominent. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand.

"What are you...What are you doing here?"

"I missed ya." He says gently, a lingering gruff in his voice. "Can I come in?"

You bit your lip, and nodded. Still, your lingering feelings stuck in the back of your head. Stepping back, you forced a smile up at him as he stepped inside, holding the bouquet up.

"I figured you'd like them because...You know. That painter who- Are you okay?" He stopped, squinting at you, as he watched your eyes met with the bouquet, and tears filled your eyes. "Hey, hey sunshine, what's wrong?" He asks softly, bringing his hand up to your chin, tipping it upwards to look up at him. You bit your lip and shook your head.

"Sorry-" You say pulling away from him, wiping your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you..." You lied through your teeth. His eyes, he looked tired.

"Don't know about that sweetheart..." He mutters, examining your expression. "What is it? The flowers? You hate em?"

"No." You let out a small laugh, crossing your arms. He turned to shut the door behind him, locking it before setting the flowers on a nearby table, his hands coming to rest on your arms.

"Well?" He looks down at you, his face serious, but his eyes held concern. "You don't need to pretend with me darling."

You were caught off guard by him, showing up suddenly when you felt your worst. Your instinct screamed at you to push him away, to pretend that it was all okay. You didn't want to bring him down. Your anxiety peeked at the idea that he may be disappointed by this version of yourself, that he would see the lonely person you are, and leave because he wouldn't want to deal with you.

But they way he looked at you, you couldn't help it as the dam broke, and he pulled you tight to his chest, holding you as you cried.

"I'm sorry doll. I didn't mean to hurt you by canceling." He says softly, his hand petting your hair gently.

"No..No, it's not you." You sniffled, stepping away for a moment. "I...I just feel so alone sometimes. I like you a lot Lo, I love us spending time together but when you're not around I'm just by myself and it...It's just terrible."

Logan brows creased, as he brought a hand to cup your cheek. "I didn't know." He says gently. You let out a shaky sigh and looked back up at him.

"You're the only person in my life." You continue. "I don't feel like I don't completely know you though. Not like how you know me. I feel like you're keeping things from me or that you're...Only sticking around temporarily."

"That's not true." He says quickly, and firmly. "I care about you sunshine." His thumb wiped away a tear. "A lot. More than I have a right too. You're....Everything sweetheart. I count myself a damn lucky guy that I met you, that you let me be apart of your life. "

You swallowed and nodded, looking away as you let out a small sigh. You both stood there in silence.

"I..." He started. "I don't know how to stop you from feeling alone but...I get it. You're right. I haven't told you the whole truth."

He grabbed your hand, leading you over to the couch, as you both sat down.

"You ready for this?" He asks.

~~~~~~~~

You stood outside the hot desert sun, as you look around the barren horizon. Logan let out a small cough, as he puffed on the cigar that he was smoking.

"It's quiet." You say.

"Yeah." He nods, his eyes trailing over you as he tried to read your body language.

After an intense conversation last night, you both passed out on your couch. When you woke up in the morning, Logan had you get dressed, and brought you to his...well, where he lives. Can't really call it a home.

That was you.

He felt terrible when you admitted to him everything you struggled with. He adored the way you always seemed to be optimistic, the way you got yourself all dolled up for him, the way you tried to spoil him and every way possible. That's not why he liked you though. He liked your character, he liked the person you are. Not just for what you do for him. You were a fresh breath of air for him. His sunshine.

He wished you see yourself the way he does. You're always encouraging him, to look at himself and see himself as a good man. He didn't know how long he got but he'll spend every second with you to prove you are the most wonderful and loveable person.

You looked at him and smiled. The sunlight gleamed off his new watch that you gifted him. He finished the cigar, flicking it to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe, before putting an arm around your shoulders.

"You ready to meet the old man?"

"Uh Lo, you're right here." You tease, wrapping your arm around his waist. He chuckled warmly.

"Real cute." He mutters shaking his head, as he led you to the decrepit water tower. He went to the door, and slid it open, a harsh grunt escaping him as it rolled open, he stood to the side and waited as you walked in.

Inside you saw two men. One, sitting in a chair reading a comic book, looking up at you. He had white skin, and yellow eyes. That one must be Caliban.

"Hello dear-" The other man greets. An older gentleman, lying in a bed with a warm smile. You smiled back as he reached his hand out to you, and walked over and took it. "I've heard so much about you from Logan. It's nice to finally meet you. Tell me...Which of Van Goghs paintings is your favorite?"

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Valentine's Day with Ni-ki;

Pairing; fem!reader X best friend!Ni-ki Synopsis; Just when you're about to leave the house to have a date with Heeseung, your best friend Ni-ki shows up at your door with a sweet confession to make; Genre; best friends to lovers; fluff; Words; 1k Warning; None is just cute asf lol; MASTERLIST;

A/N: I wanted to post something for valentine's day so bad but I don't really like this :( I hope you guys do! As usual likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you so much <3 Happy Valentine to all the girlies and boys in a relationship, to us, singles... well... lets be delulu for a little.

“Ni-ki? What are you doing here?” you question, confused, as soon as you open your heavy front door. Your curious eyes scan your best friend’s face as you gently hold the door open.

“Don’t go…” Ki responds, his beautiful brown eyes locked on yours.

Today is Valentine’s Day, and you have a date with a nice guy named Heeseung, who happens to be one of Ni-ki’s friends. You haven’t talked to Heeseung much, but he showed interest in you, and you decided to give him a chance. He seemed hesitant at first, but then firmly assured you that he wanted to go out with you today, so you got all dolled up just for him.

“What are you talking about, Ki?” you ask, starting to feel irritated by his strange timing. Ni-ki stands tall in front of you, his hands hidden behind his back. You raise an eyebrow and try to peek behind him, but he catches you just in time and steps back to avoid it.

“I’m talking about your date with Heeseung,” Riki repeats, his hands starting to sweat. “Don’t go on that stupid date with him.”

The truth is, he’s been in love with you ever since he met you. Ni-ki realized he wanted you long ago, way before you met Heeseung, but only now, with Heeseung making a move on you, did he find the courage to confess. His heart ached at the thought of you kissing Heeseung after getting all pretty for him.

Riki tries to read your expression, his eyes scanning your perplexed face, then trailing down your figure. You’re wearing an adorable pink floral sundress that isn’t too tight but still hugs your body in all the right places. Your long chocolate-brown hair is carefully straightened, and you’re wearing his favorite perfume.

Feeling his intense gaze, you speak up. “Why would I do that, hm?”

Ni-ki knows you’re starting to get irritated—the stern look in your eyes gives it away easily.

“Because…” Ni-ki starts, but it feels like someone is squeezing his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Because I’m finally here,” he whispers, his eyes locked on yours, hoping you’ll understand what his half-words can’t fully express.

You feel your cheeks heat up, unable to hide your reaction to his words. You’ve liked Riki for as long as you can remember but never really understood your feelings until you started growing up. His cool persona and great fashion sense made him incredibly attractive. But after getting to know him even better, you fell harder. He was more than just cool and well-dressed. He was kind, well-mannered, and made you laugh until your cheeks hurt. And turns out that was the way to your heart.

You never told him how you felt because you never thought he would like you back. After all, he was popular and had many girls chasing after him. That’s why you agreed to go out with Heeseung. Maybe he could distract you from the one-sided love you had for your best friend.

“What are you talking about, Riki…” you whisper, your heart racing at the thought that he might actually like you back. Your eyes shift from his to the floor, too nervous to face him.

“Fuck, Y/N, I like you, okay? I always have. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you,” Ni-ki finally confesses, his ears turning red and his hands trembling slightly as he reveals what he is holding behind his back.

You can’t hide the immense smile that grows on your lips at his words, and when you see the beautiful bouquet of red roses in his hands, you can’t hold back anymore. Happy tears fill your eyes as you reach forward, wrapping your arms around Ni-ki’s neck, your head tucked against him. Your best friend immediately pulls you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his heart finally calming down as he feels your familiar embrace.

“Does this mean you like me back?” he jokes when you pull away to look up at him, your big puppy eyes staring into his. Ni-ki’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

You smile brightly at him. “Of course I do, dumbass,” you giggle, completely lost in the new softness in Riki’s eyes. “Wait, but Heeseung doesn’t deserve this… I can’t just cancel on him,” you say, biting your lip as guilt creeps in.

“Don’t worry, just tell him you changed your mind. He knew this would happen…” Ni-ki explains with a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Heeseung knew Ni-ki liked you, but Ni-ki denied it. Your best friend had assured Heeseung that you were single and that he didn’t like you, so Heeseung asked you out. Despite suspecting Riki’s feelings, Heeseung was genuinely interested in you and was surprised when you accepted his offer.

“Will you be my Valentine?” Ni-ki asks, love practically dripping from his eyes, his smile so genuine and cheerful that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yes, Ni-ki.”

As the words leave your mouth, Riki steps closer to you, his addictive scent surrounding you. His cold fingers gently lift your chin as he leans in. Your hands reach for his black hair, fingers playing with the strands at the nape of his neck.

His lips feel hesitant at first when they meet yours. Knowing him well, you can tell he’s probably nervous about taking this big step, so you kiss him back confidently, trying to reassure him that you’re more than okay with this. Tilting your head slightly, you silently ask for permission to deepen the kiss, and he lets you take the lead. As your lips mold together perfectly, he relaxes, smiling softly against your mouth, overwhelmed by joy. Your tongues move slowly, savoring each other like you’ve always wished to.

Out of breath, you pull away, a warm blush painting your cheeks. When Riki opens his eyes, he finds you already staring at him, looking prettier than ever with your lips swollen and red from his kiss. Smiling, he gently takes your hand and leads you to his car, ready to drive you to your favorite restaurant and spend a perfect evening with you—just like you deserve.

Little did he know, this was already more than enough. All you really wanted on this Valentine’s Day was his warm lips on yours, finally claiming you as his.

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