#Korean Fine Dining

[noname21sstuff-blog]

Nuri Grill & Bar by Madang – Yas Bay – Dining Review

Korean BBQ meets fine dining at this exquisite jewel of a place set on the terrace of the stunning Hilton Abu Dhabi, Yas Island overlooking the superb Yas Bay Waterfront #NuriGrillBar

[toyastales]

Korean BBQ Beef Rice Stack

[phatstory]

Veggies Go LV, Piggy Goes Monk 😂 Eating veggies is so stylish! 

[ateliervindore]

Best Korean Fried Chicken Burgers in Indore

This is the ultimate Korean Fried Chicken Burger and you guys just have to give it a go! It's got the perfect balance of sweet and spicy!

[citychicchronicles]

Dinner at Kochi.. a relatively new Korean restaurant. So creative and delicious. Kochi means skewers in Korean so the theme is everything on a skewer through to dessert. Sat at the bar in front of the chef assembly line - very attentive. Great Michelin one star experience. Reasonable pricing at $145 for the chef tasting meal.

[antorestaurant]

Experience Culinary Excellence at Anto: The Best Korean Steakhouse in NYC

Nestled in the heart of New York City, Anto stands as a beacon of culinary excellence, offering an unparalleled dining experience for aficionados of Korean cuisine. As a premier Korean steakhouse in NYC, Anto effortlessly blends traditional flavors with contemporary sophistication, earning its place as a haven for those seeking the finest in Korean fine dining.

Unveiling the Essence of Korean Fine Dining

At Anto, dining is an immersive experience—an intricate tapestry of flavors, textures, and artistry. Step into our realm and embark on a gastronomic journey unlike any other. Our commitment to elevating Korean cuisine to its pinnacle is evident in every dish crafted by our culinary artisans.

Savoring Unrivaled Korean Steakhouse Delights

Anto's menu boasts an exquisite selection of Korean delicacies, with our signature Korean steakhouse fare taking center stage. Indulge in succulent cuts of premium beef, expertly grilled to perfection, offering a tantalizing fusion of flavors and textures that are truly unparalleled.

A Symphony of Flavors: Exploring Korean Food at its Finest

Beyond our renowned steak offerings, Anto's menu offers a symphony of flavors that celebrate the essence of Korean cuisine. From traditional favorites like Bibimbap and Kimchi to our innovative reinterpretations of classic dishes, each plate is a work of culinary artistry, meticulously prepared to tantalize your taste buds.

The Epitome of Korean Culinary Craftsmanship

What sets Anto apart is not just the food, but the entire dining experience. Our ambiance reflects modern elegance, providing a sophisticated backdrop for your culinary journey. Impeccable service and attention to detail ensure that every moment at Anto is a celebration of Korean gastronomy.

Anto: Your Gateway to Korean Steakhouse Excellence in NYC

Whether you're a connoisseur of Korean cuisine or an adventurous food enthusiast seeking the best, Anto offers an unrivaled dining experience. Our dedication to redefining Korean fine dining in NYC resonates in every dish served, inviting you to partake in the flavors and traditions that define our heritage.

Embark on a culinary voyage with Anto, where every bite narrates a story of Korean culinary craftsmanship. Discover the best Korean steakhouse in NYC at Anto, a destination where tradition meets innovation, and flavors are elevated to art.

Visit Anto today and immerse yourself in the finest Korean dining experience that New York City has to offer!

[thefortunatechef]

Korean fine dining at its best!

Paju, Seattle, Washington, USA

[justarkive]

THE JEONS : 05

05 : Pork Belly

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

• chapter contents: literally just family fluff. jungkook tries to make pork belly for his little girl and hana DOES NOT WANT IT, bjr shes also lowkey fighting for her life to stay awake, cause when is she not??

• a/n: for the baby police in my asks : yes i know that 1 month olds indeed cannot eat anything apart from milk and my mistake for thinking they could while i wrote this so pls just pretend she is not one month old while reading this.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights (cmnt to be added)

masterlist , series masterlist

You should’ve known better. You really should’ve.

Jungkook on dinner duty is already a red flag, but you were tired, and he looked so confident, so you let him do his thing. Big mistake. Not because he doesn’t cook good - that man cooks really fucking good - but because he’s not so good with… baby friendly dishes.

Hana has just been rudely awakened from her nap, and she’s fighting for her life to stay awake, her tiny body swaying slightly in your arms as you carry her to the kitchen. She’s hungry, she’s sleepy, and most importantly—she’s expecting fine gourmet dining.

Which, in her world, translates to mashed potatoes, baby food, or literally anything that doesn’t require molars.

Instead, she’s greeted with the sight of Jungkook happily plating pork belly and rice.

You pause.

Hana blinks.

“…Pork belly?” you say slowly, watching as Jungkook—completely unfazed—takes a seat at the table.

“Yeah.” He picks up a slab, cuts a generous piece, and plops it directly onto Hana’s high chair tray.

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

You stare at the greasy chunk of meat sitting in front of your six-month-old daughter.

Hana, still half-asleep, just sits there, blinking at the pork belly with the type of slow realization that looks like pure betrayal.

She thought she was about to be fed properly.

She thought she was about to be respected.

She thought she was about to be nourished.

Instead… this.

Jungkook, completely unaware of the culinary crime he has just committed, happily starts eating, stuffing his face like nothing is wrong. Meanwhile, Hana pokes the pork belly once, making a confused little noise.

“Bubububu.”

You, still staring in silence, wait for Jungkook to realize his mistake.

He does not.

Instead, Hana picks up the entire slab of pork belly, her tiny fingers barely able to grip it, the greasy surface slipping in her hand.

She is devastated.

You can see the tears forming.

Her face screams betrayal.

She turns to Jungkook as if to say, “You—my own flesh and blood—have done this to me?”

Jungkook finally looks up, eyes widening. “Baby, no—like this!” He hurriedly picks up his own piece and starts demonstrating, chewing dramatically, as if this is a learning experience instead of a complete disaster.

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

You immediately swoop in, lifting her from the high chair and cradling her against your chest. “Shhh baby-,” you whisper, rubbing her back as she lets out the tiniest, saddest whimper.

Then, you turn to Jungkook.

“Seriously? Pork belly? For a six-month-old?”

Jungkook, still eating, frowns at you. “I thought she’d like it.”

“You thought she’d like it?”

“She’s gotta start eating real food sometime.”

“She’s six months old.”

“She’s advanced.”

Hana, still sniffling, buries her face into your shoulder.

You sigh, pressing a kiss to her head before shooting Jungkook a look. “Next time, start with mashed potatoes before trying to serve our baby a whole-ass Korean BBQ platter.”

Jungkook pouts, glancing at Hana, who is now fully ignoring him.

“…She’s gonna hold this against me forever, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you say immediately.

And judging by the way Hana is glaring over your shoulder, you’re pretty sure she agrees.

Jungkook’s entire world is falling apart.

His tiny, precious daughter, who usually adores him, is now ignoring him—all because he made the grave mistake of serving her pork belly.

“Baby,” he says softly, leaning in closer, eyebrows knitted in distress. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Dada.”

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

She lets out a tiny, pitiful “Hmmph.”

Your heart melts at the sound, but Jungkook looks physically pained.

“Baby, please,” he pleads, reaching out to rub her tiny back. “I made a mistake. Dada is dumb.”

Hana sniffles dramatically.

You watch as she tilts her head just enough to peek at him, still glaring, but a little less now that Jungkook is using his softest, sweetest voice.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Jungkook presses kisses all over her chubby little cheeks, each one coming with an exaggerated “mwah!”

“Dada loves you,” he coos. “Dada is so, so sorry. Next time, Dada will make mashed potatoes. Or rice. Or whatever you want, okay? You’re the boss.”

Hana squirms, still grumpy, but the way she grabs a fistful of his shirt is a clear sign she’s relenting.

You sigh, shaking your head with a fond smile. “You really thought pork belly was a good idea, huh?”

Jungkook pouts, looking genuinely ashamed. “She’s my daughter. I thought she’d appreciate good food.”

Hana lets out a tiny, tired huff.

Then—without warning—she leans forward and rests her face against his chest.

Jungkook gasps.

His eyes immediately soften, hands coming up to gently cradle her tiny body against him.

“Oh,” he breathes, rocking her slightly. “Baby…”

You watch as he slowly sways from side to side, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. His voice drops even softer as he whispers, “Sleepy, huh?”

Hana doesn’t answer, but the way her tiny fingers curl into his shirt says enough.

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to her head. “Let’s forget about dinner. Just sleep, pretty girl. Dada will hold you.”

Your heart swells.

Despite the chaos, despite the pork belly incident, it’s moments like these that make you fall in love with him all over again.

With a small shake of your head, you step closer, reaching out to smooth Hana’s messy baby hair. “She loves you,” you whisper.

Jungkook smiles, gaze full of pure adoration. “I know.”

And with that, the pork belly betrayal is officially forgiven.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Push and pull.

Warning:  Angst

Pairing: skz x 9th member

Summary: The constant pressure of being a girl in a group of boys is crazy but crazier when your looked at like a fragile baby.

!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!

**

“Oppa just tell me what’s wrong pleaseee?” She begged, “I also care about you and you need to calm down. This is scaring me,”

"No I want to only talk to the boys, please Y/n?" He said and It stung. 

Han had been having a mental breakdown and had been crying for an hour straight. They had just arrived from practice when he decided to brush everyone off and leave to go to his room where Y/n had been begging him to come out of.

"Okay," She softly said and left the room. Was she not going enough for him? Did he not like her? The thoughts run through her head as she laid in bed trying not to cry. The pain of feeling neglected was slowly eating her alive.

She had been begging him to tell her what had happened but he refused. He didn't want to tell her what was going on but once the boys walked in back from their schedules, he wanted to speak to them straight away. Leaving Y/n sad and confused. 

She decided to to finish some work as she waited for the boys to finish talking to Han but even then her heart wasn't settled. She wasn't able to concentrate. The guilt was eating her up. It made her feel sick. So she decided to go make herself some tea and that's when she run into Felix in the kitchen making some brownies.

"Hey Felix," she softly smile and greeted him.

"Hey Y/nnie!" He beamed and waved at her then continued to mix the mixture in the bowl. "where you able to get more tape for your knee?"

"yeah i was, Eunwo (their manager) was able to get me some on our way back," she explained while she got a glass of water. "What are you doing?"

"Making brownies for Hannie, he isn't feeling the best," Y/n turned to look at his older brother.

"Can I please know why?" She took the chance to get it out of Felix because she knew Felix wasn't their strongest soldier when it came to keeping secrets from one another.

"No I'm sorry, Han said not to tell you," he looked back at the butter quickly trying to avoid the eye contact.

"But Lix-"

"No I'm not telling you, it's not my secret to tell," he cut her off and continued his work. He felt really bad for leaving her out but he knew himself he couldn't spill anything just yet.

"Okay, fine be a meanie,"  She softly sighed and got her cup of now iced coffee.

"No don't be like that, Han will tell you when his ready," he pouts walking over to her to her. hoping that someway he could fix the situation. 

Everyone knew that Y/n felt left out most of the times because she was the only girl and sometimes the boys had things they couldn’t tell her or share with her but other than that they told her everything and they tried to make her feel apart of the group. 

Since felix was the most sensitive and softest out of everyone he felt the need to protect her because felix did feel left out at a point when he couldn’t speak korean fluently and Y/ was the one who would stay up with him trying to help him study. In this case, Y/n was not feeling this 'brotherly' love. 

She shrugged his hands off and took a step back trying to get out of his reach. "I'm his bestfriend too, I'm part of this team too but I keep being treated like I'm an outsider," She let out a sigh and wiped the rolling tear. Trying to make sure Felix didn't see her cry.

"No don't cry please," he begged but she simply walked past him but ofcourse felix tried to follow but she stopped him and continued into her room where she locked the door and stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When it was time for dinner she went outside to grab the stuff she had ordered since leeknow wasn't cooking tonight and she sat on the empty dining table. Everyone was still sat in Han's room and there were a few empty cups on the table meaning they had all eaten already.

Felix had left her a plate of brownies for desert and a cup of milk so atleast she knew they still acknowledge her. As she sat there she got bored and saw it was 8pm.

So since she had nothing planed for the evening she decided to get up, put everything away and grab her training stuff to head to the jyp building. It was a short walk anyway and korea was a safe place to be wondeirng at night. The builidng looked quite empty but a few people were locking up and packingup to head home.

She scanned the hallways for an empty room and she finally did find one but was soon interrupted but Jae Beom and his crew. His smile was bright and he was so excited to see her.

"Y/nnie!"

"Oppa!" she squealed. Her sad aura was now replaced with happiness at the sight of her favorite older brothers. She quickly run over and age each of them hugs while saying hello.

"What are you doing here so late? Where are your brothers?" He asked dropping his practice bag and walking back over to her. He pulled her in a hug once again. Although they worked in the same company they barely saw each other due to schedules and stuff.

"Han wasn't feeling well so they are taking care of him and I decided to come practice," She explained. The boys were now all paying close attention to her.

"Ahhh I see! Can we join you?" Mark asks. His hands were in his pockets and they all didnt have makeup on so it meant that they were also here just for free practice.

"Yes sure, I need company anyway," She smiled and headed over to the laptop that was by the speakers. "What should we start with?"

"Can you teach us S-class? Its so hard and we've been trying to learn it," Jackson pouts and raffles her hair,

"Yeah the hand movement is impossible!" Jinyoung chirps in.

She giggled at this because they all reminded her so much of her little brothers back at home when S-class had just come out. "Sure, I can its not that hard," the groans in response made her laugh fill the room so she just played the song and they all run through it as she taught them step by step and by the time they were done, it was 1 in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING? fuck.

She quickly took out her phone from her bag and looked at it to see thousands of missed calls and (as if in cue) that's when Hyunjin and I.N slammed the door open. they were both panicked and Hyunjins phone was ringing alot while I.N was frantic talking to someone of his phone.

"There you are!" Hyunjin exclaimed panting and huffing. "We've been calling, texting and even fucking tracking your phone, why wouldn’t you tell us your here? This is extremely dangerous Y/n! Oh my God!"

"Y/nnie! do you know how worried we were?! Chan hyung and Leeknow hyung are on some road screaming your name looking for you everywhere," I.N yells at her causing her to jump at the sudden loud voices.

"My phone was off, I was just practicing here-" she tried to explain but was interrupted immediately. 

"Okay, it doesn’t matter now, let's go home, we were worried sick, hang on...grab your stuff," he got out his phone and started talking to someone that sounded like Chan. With the way Hyunjin was cringing she knew she was dead meat. 

She quickly grabbed my Bags, her laptop and quickly said bye to everyone who were also as terrified as she was but they totally understood and told her to just be safe and to text them. She quickly made her way behind Hyunjin and I.N who were towering over her. Once hyunjin hang up the phone finally, he slowed down so he was walking by her side.

"Never do that again please,"

"But I was just with my friends,"

"You know we don't trust you in a room full men," he softly says ruffling his hands through her hair.

"Yeah I know, I know. I'm in shit, i've accepted it," she groaned but remembered the only reason she was in this mess, "Is Hannie okay now?"

"Yeah he is and he wants to talk to you," She look up at him confused. Her heart jumping. 

"What about?" she asked on a confused tone. Hyunjin glances over at I.N who gulps. They both look at eachother as if communicating.

"Felix said that you were upset-"

"I wasn't upset really," She quickly explained.

"Oh well now you can explain that to him anyway but right now those are your least of your worries cause Chan is going to kill you in cold blood," I.N takes of his jacket and hands it to her. she was freezing and she was wearing a tank top but luckily I.N had a hoodie and jacket on.

Ugh. She sighed softly when they arrived to the house. She stopped causing the boys to look at her confused. Her worries and sadness came washing over her. With the way she had fun at the studio with her other brothers she had totally forgotten the depression she was facing at home.

She took a deep breath (quite dramatically) earning a chuckle from both boys and she walked up the stairs into the house where Chan and Leeknow were Ofcourse sitting on the dining table with a coffee mug both. She couldn't even sneak past them which was her only hope in avoiding them. She quickly turned around but was met with Hyunjins chest. sigh.

"Stop, turn around and sit," Chan voice was loud meaning he was serious. she quickly followed his instructions and sat on the chair across both of them.

"What time is it?" He squints his eyes and looks at her.

"1:30 Oppa," she sighed and looked down at her fingers. 

"Why would you leave the house without letting us know? What if something had happened and we didn't know-"

"Your always scolding me and not treating me like an adult," she snapped at him. This made Hyunjin stop in his tracks and turned back and I.N  paused whatever he was doing to over at them. Never ever did she snap at the boys especially chan because she loved them and they were older than her so she was so respectful. This was a shock and the gasp that left leeknows lips was evidence.

"That's not true I always treat you like an adult," Chan defended himself. 

"You don't Oppa! You don't get it, just because I'm 19 doesn't mean I'm a kid, I'm only one year younger than I.N and he gets treated like an adult, everything I do you guys have to be there watching and whenever you guys have conversations I'm pushed to the side. Yes I get I'm a girl and I'm young but it doesn't mean I'm not part of the team, I'm allowed to walk out the house right now if I wanted to, if I wanted a babysitter I would have hired you a long time," 

"Y/n dont raise your voice at hyung like that. Its not right," Leeknows eyes were red. he was pissed off and it was clear. 

"Dont talk to me like that Y/n. If you have a problem you tell me, you dont yell. Look at me when im talking to you," She looked up at him. He looked tired, frustrated and mad. He had to first deal with Han...now this?

"fine sorry," she was done. she was done with this conversation, she was done with the boys, she was done with everything. She stood up and stormed out the room. Chan following right behind her 

"We're not done here young lady, You think i want this? you think i want to constantly be checking on you? you think i want to be. You keep acting childish thats why i have to keep tabs on you!" with every second he was getting louder and louder. 

"Chan dont, lets go calm down-" leeknow grabs his arm trying to keep him away.

"Y/n go to your room," Changbin interferes trying to break the two up. 

"See!" she exclaimed and walked into her room shutting it and locking it.

[innerempire]

Peter who is Tony’s personal assistant - the only personal assistant who has actually stuck through him for more than two years. Prior to Peter, all of Tony’s past PA(s) were people who had resigned within 24 hours (and left in absolute tears) because they simply couldn’t cope with the stress.

Peter deals with everything; handling the older male’s hectic schedules, enduring crazy ex-partners and slighted flings who show up here and there and hey, he’s had coffee and juice, whatever-you-name it thrown in his face. Before anything even reaches Tony’s desk, be it an interview request or social invite, it’s strictly screened by Peter first.

He works round the clock basically. It’s high stress, but the monetary compensation is….Peter thinks he might be set for life if he keeps it up for another couple of years.

“So, remember, you’ve got that in-person interview with Ms Bellford at 6 today. I’ve screened all the questions, but I’ve got Happy on standby just in case she goes off script and-“

Tony frowns, “You’re not going to be there?”

“Uh-“ Peter glances up from his new yet-to-be-released Stark Industries-issued tablet. “I requested for time off for today a month and a half ago. You signed off on it.”

Tony has that particular look on his face which tells Peter that the older male doesn’t remember doing anything of that sort.

“Tony-“ Peter really can’t cancel because this is the third time he’s rescheduling this date with a guy he’s sort of hit it off with from a dating app four months ago. “I need to turn up for my date, because my social life is non-existent as it is.”

“…you don’t count being with me as socializing? Also, a date? First time I’m hearing of it.”

“You’re my boss - I have to socialize with you.”

“Ouch.”

“And it’s the first time I’m mentioning it because the previous two dates didn’t happen. But it needs to happen today because he seems somewhat decent.” Peter hopes so, at least.

Tony leans back in his chair, “Well, I hope Mr.Decent is taking you somewhere nice.”

“Mm, whatever is “nice” in my vocab would probably be “peasant-like” in yours.” Because Tony has ridiculously fancy taste. “I think it’s some fine-dining Korean restaurant in West Village.” Peter glances at his watch. “…and if I want to make a good first impression, I really need to leave.” He gives Tony an imploring look. “Uh, would it be too much to tell you not to call me if you don’t need me?”

Tony grins at Peter, teasing, “But I always need you.”

“Not this evening, you don’t.” Peter quips. “Anyway, behave, don’t terrorize the interviewer, please. She seens genuinely interested in the company’s progress, so - best behavior, please.”

“See, that’s why you need to be there. I’m always the best version of myself when you’re around.”

“Uh huh.” Peter deadpans. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr.Stark.”

- / -

“Uh…what do you mean it’s closed? I thought we made reservations.” Peter asks his date over the phone.

“Yeah, a month ago. But someone from the restaurant called me just now and said they’re closed because of a sudden emergency.”

Peter tries not to feel too bummed. He had been looking forward to dining at the restaurant since they made plans for it.

“Oh…then, should we go elsewhere?” Peter suggests.

“Well, it’s a Friday and anywhere else nice is probably fully booked out.”

Peter wonders if this third failed attempt at a date is the Universe’s way of telling him that things with this particular person is not meant to be. Look, he’s not insanely superstitious, but surely it means something?!

“…maybe next time?”

Both of them agree on next time, but Peter thinks there’s not going to be one. He sighs as he ends the call. Well, he could just order in and spend the night actually resting, but instead, Peter finds himself re-entering the office tower and making his way up to the topmost floor and back to his own personal office (truly a perk)

“Someone’s passionate about their job. What happened to a date with Mr.Decent?” Is the first thing that Tony asks when he pops in.

Peter simply sighs, and it’s then that he realizes Tony’s tie is slightly crooked. He gets out of his chair and closes the distance between them, nimble fingers adjusting the tie to sit nicely.

“The restaurant had to close all of a sudden. Last minute emergency.”

“A well-prepared man would have made back up plans.” Tony remains still as Peter fusses over him.

“I kinda thought so too.” Peter admits, hands sweeping along the lapels of his boss’s suit jacket. “It’s weird - I’m disappointed, but I’m not that disappointed?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Well. I, for one, am glad.”

- / -

It’s Peter’s third year of overseeing that the Stark Expo runs smoothly, but it’s still as anxiety-inducing as ever. The moment Tony ends his speech, Peter heaves a sigh of relief, knowing that the most important aspect of the expo was over. Now, the attendees would be mingling and networking and Peter could finally enjoy a glass of wine. Or two.

“Can I assume that it’s finally safe to approach you?”

Peter lets out a laugh as he accepts the glass of red wine being handed to him, “Fashionably late as always, Quentin.”

“Mm, it’s on purpose really. I don’t really need to waste twenty minutes of my time listening to Stark stroke his own ego.”

Quentin Beck was one of their biggest competitors to date, and frankly, he was smart enough that it kept Tony on his toes.

“You look great.” Quentin comes in for a hug which Peter reciprocates. “It’s the third year of you handling Stark Expo, and my third time trying my luck at poaching you for myself.”

Peter had to give it to Quentin for his persistance, “Better luck next year.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Then…how about trying my luck for something non business related? Coffee, dinner?”

Peter grins up at Quentin, “Are you asking me out?” He can’t deny that that they’ve always engaged in flirty banter whenever they meet.

“Mm hmm, and I know there’s a conflict of interest somewhere, but I truly can’t bring myself to give a fuck.”

He nearly snorts the wine up his nose, playfully swatting Quentin on the shoulder. He’s giving the thought some consideration because Quentin is smart and a looker, and he’a older too, somewhere along Tony’s age, and that’s always a plus. But he doesn’t get to dwell on it much longer when Tony comes to join them.

He doesn’t seem too pleased to see Quentin, startling Peter slightly be resting his hand against the dip of Peter’s back. As if staking his claim over his own personal assistant.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, and Peter’s instantly whisked away before he manages to get a word out to Quentin. “What is it? Do you need something, Mr.Stark?” Peter asks, absolutely confused once they’re quite a distance away from the crowd.

Tony eases his hold slightly around Peter’s waist,” There should really be laws about fraternizing with the enemy.”

“You’re exaggerating. You know how Quentin is.”

“Yes, and I don’t like it one bit of how he was looking at you.”

“…careful, Mr.Stark. Your jealousy’s showing.”

Peter waits for Tony to laugh, but it doesn’t come.

No way Tony Stark is jealous.

Peter doesn’t know what to do all of a sudden, not with his boss staring him down. He’s self-conscious of their proximity all of a sudden.

“Mr.Stark-“

“I don’t really take too well to sharing, both professionally and personally.”

- / -

[h4nj1sunggg]

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 ( l. minho x h. jisung ) - 03.

warnings: y/n is pretty turned on by what she listened, she mentioned it a lot, reader has tattoos. words: 1.9k

The faint hum of the hallway lights buzzed in your ears as you nervously adjusted the strap of your bag. y/bsf/n trailed behind you, carrying a dish she insisted on making because, as she put it, “We can’t show up empty-handed and look like hooligans.” You still weren’t entirely sure how the two of you ended up here—invited for dinner by Han Jisung and Lee Minho, of all people.

It had been a day since your awkward first encounter, and just as you’d begun convincing yourself that you wouldn’t see them again for a while, Jisung had texted you, asking for dinner. And right after that you heard from your small room sounds of making out session and probably something more, your mind still try to process that since. You were fairly certain that Jisung didn’t mean to sound as flustered as he looked. And Minho, who had poked his head out of their doorway to silently stare, didn’t help matters.

And now here you were, standing outside their door with your nerves threatening to turn you into a puddle.

“You good?” y/bsf/n whispered, elbowing you playfully as she balanced the glass casserole dish.

“Totally fine,” you muttered, though your voice betrayed you. “I mean, it’s just dinner. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Don’t say that,” she teased. “Now the universe is listening.”

You shot her a glare, but before you could retort, the door swung open.

Jisung stood there with a grin that was far too bright for the dimly lit hallway. His hair was slightly damp, as if he’d just showered, and he wore an oversized sweatshirt that looked far too cozy for its own good.

“Hey! You guys made it,” he said, stepping aside to let you both in.

Minho appeared from the kitchen a moment later, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He wore a plain white T-shirt and black sweatpants, and you could tell he’d been cooking from the faint hint of soy sauce in the air. Oh those black sweatpants, showing perfectly his thick thighs- maybe that's what jisung was riding yesterday and whining about. Oh shut up, mind of yours.

“Welcome,” Minho said, his voice smooth but casual. His eyes lingered on the dish in y/bsf/n’s hands. “You brought something?”

“Of course!” y/bsf/n replied with a proud grin. “just a tiramisù. Family recipe. Where do you want it?”

Jisung grabbed the dish eagerly, practically bouncing on his feet. “Food! You already win points for this.” He gestured toward the small dining table near the kitchen. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home.”

You followed y/bsf/n into the apartment, glancing around as you stepped inside. Their space was cozy, much like your own, but far more lived-in. A worn couch sat against the wall, with blankets and pillows scattered across it. The coffee table was littered with notebooks, stray pens, and a controller for the gaming console that blinked faintly from under the TV stand. A casual playlist settled up on the Tv. The kitchen, however, was surprisingly neat—something you suspected was Minho’s doing.

The walls had small personal touches—a calendar hung next to the fridge, scribbled with dates and notes in messy handwriting—and still in Korean, which is a language that you still are managing to learn. A corkboard above the counter held Polaroid pictures of their bandmates, and a small sticky note read “Don’t let Jisung near the stove—Minho.”

“Do you guys live here alone?” y/bsf/n asked, her voice light and conversational.

Yes, they do.

“Yep,” Jisung replied, already setting the dish down with a satisfied hum. “We got this place a while ago. Small, but it works. You knew, every fan knows about the Minsung apartment—you got crazy all over it when it came out the news years ago.

“Small apartments seem to be the theme around here,” you joked softly, earning a laugh from Jisung and a small, approving smile from Minho.

“True,” Minho said, picking up a pot and placing it on the table. “But it’s all about how you use the space.”

“Wow, look at you. Wisdom from Chef Lee,” Jisung teased, pulling out a chair for Y/Bsf/N. “Sit. Seriously. You’re guests. You get VIP treatment tonight.” Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meets his, a small shiver runs down your spine.

You exchanged a glance with y/bsf/n, who stifled a grin, and the two of you took your seats at the table. It was small—only meant for four people—but the atmosphere was warm and inviting.

Jisung and Minho started placing dishes on the table with casual ease, like they’d done this a hundred times before. There was a steaming pot of kimchi stew, plates of fried rice, sautéed vegetables, and grilled meat. It smelled incredible, and your stomach growled quietly in approval.

“You guys really went all out,” y/bsf/n said, clearly impressed. “I didn’t expect such a feast.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” Minho replied, brushing off the compliment with a wave of his hand. “We just threw some things together.” Is not like Minho and his boyfriend stood there in front of the meat section fighting over which one could be better for that dinner.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jisung chimed in, sliding into the seat next to Minho. “He’s being humble. Minho’s a cooking genius. I just help by, you know… existing.”

“You burned rice last week,” Minho deadpanned, earning a cackle from your best friend, a giggle left your throat as you try to cover it with a cough.

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” Jisung wailed, throwing his arms up dramatically. “Hyung, don’t expose me in front of our guests.” Minho's eyes soften at the view of his boyfriend all worked up by a tease, he grins.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So Minho does all the cooking?”

“Pretty much,” Minho replied with a shrug. “It’s easier that way. He eats, I cook.”

“Sounds like a fair trade,” your friend teased.

Your chopsticks starts to peek out the meat that got grilled, a smile on your face seeing the playful manner between your friend and the two guys, and for some point you even forgot about the fact that they are really your two biases. You move your hair behind your ear and the tattoo on your neck exposes a little, Jisung's eyes glance at it silently, he swallows.

He tries to get is focus somewhere else, everywhere expect your now exposed next with a dragon tattoo that he swear it could be out from spirited away, the head of the dragon goes behind your ear and it trace down until your shoulder. His pants tighten. Jisung leaned forward with a dramatic sigh, chopsticks clutched in his hand. “Okay, okay. I have to ask: who’s the better cook, you or your best friend here?”

Your friend gasped in mock offense. “You have to ask? Obviously me.” You snorted. “She boils water and thinks it’s gourmet.”

“hey!” she shrieked, slapping the table lightly as everyone burst out laughing. “I made tiramisù tonight! Show some respect!”

“I’m just saying… it’s one dish,” you teased.

“you’re cruel,” Jisung said between giggles, pressing a hand to his chest like the dramatics were contagious. “We’ll just pretend you’re both chefs. Peace restored.” The way that he said your name makes your stomach drops a little, your eyes moves on his for a brief moment.

Minho cleared his throat, clearly trying to suppress a smile. “Don’t encourage her delusion, Jisung.”

As the laughter died down and you reached for your water glass, you caught Jisung’s eyes lingering on you again. This time, his playful expression faltered slightly. You raised a brow in silent question, but he quickly looked away—focusing on the stew in front of him as if his life depended on it.

You frowned, a little puzzled, but let it go.

The meal slowed as everyone began picking at the remnants on their plates. Minho leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he surveyed the empty dishes with satisfaction. “I’m impressed,” he said. “You guys kept up. Usually, Jisung eats enough for three people.”

“I DO NOT!” Jisung protested, mouth still half-full of rice. “Hyung, don’t expose me—again!”

Your friend laughed, pushing her plate away. “I can see it. Jisung’s got that ‘always hungry’ energy.”

You bit back a smile as you grabbed your water glass again, catching a glimpse of your reflection in its polished surface. As you shifted slightly in your seat, the neckline of your shirt moved just enough to reveal a faint glimpse of the tattoo ink on the side of your neck, again. It happened so fast that you didn’t even notice—but Jisung did, he's counting how many times that shirt moves, showing your tattoo.

His chopsticks froze mid-air.

At first, you were still talking with your best friend unaware that his gaze was now glued to the delicate design inked into your skin. It wasn’t bold or flashy, but it was beautiful—a small, elegant piece that seemed both subtle and personal.

Jisung swallowed hard. Heat crept up the back of his neck, spreading to his ears like wildfire. Minho caught on almost immediately.

“What’s wrong with you?” Minho asked, raising a brow as he looked between Jisung and your very oblivious form. “You good?”

Jisung blinked, startled, and quickly shoveled food into his mouth as if to distract himself. “I—I’m fine! Just... just hungry.” His voice was small, almost a whisper for only his boyfriend to notice.

Minho gave him a suspicious look but said nothing.

By now, Jisung had already stolen a few more glances at you, hoping you wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen tattoos before, he has and a lots of them all over his body—but something about you having one caught him completely off-guard.

It was unexpected. Cool.

And it made his heart race for no good reason.

Minho eventually announced that he was starting on the dishes, leaving you, your best friend and Jisung lingering at the table. Jisung still hadn’t fully recovered, though he tried desperately to act normal.

“So…” he blurted, leaning on his elbows as he looked at you. “I, uh—what made you get a tattoo?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “What?”

Your friend perked up immediately. “Ohhh, he noticed. I told you it was pretty.”

Your hand instinctively moved to your neck, fingertips brushing the ink. “You saw that?”

“Uh… yeah,” Jisung admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I wasn’t staring or anything—”

“You definitely were,” Minho’s voice called out dryly from the kitchen, though he didn’t even turn around.

Jisung shot him a look. “Baby, shut up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks warming as you shrugged. “It’s okay. Honestly, I forget I have it half the time.”

Jisung tilted his head slightly, his flustered energy replaced with genuine curiosity. “What does it mean? Or is it just for the vibe?”

“It’s… personal,” you replied softly, though your tone wasn’t guarded. “A reminder of something important.”

He nodded slowly, taking your words to heart. There was something about the way he looked at you—gentle, unassuming—that made you feel oddly at ease.

“I get that,” he said quietly. “It suits you.”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. Your friend grinned knowingly, elbowing you under the table, but you ignored her.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

For the rest of the night, Jisung seemed just a little quieter than usual—still full of jokes and laughter, but his gaze lingered just a moment longer whenever you spoke. And whenever you absentmindedly touched your neck, you swore you caught him blushing all over again.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist )  . ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist roommates )  .

taglist ! @estella-novella @fackeraccount @ihrtlix @hanji-coffee

[cr4yolaas]

mezzo forte — half return

track 4: the horse | masterlist | track 6: workaholic methodology

translation notes: nanay = mom; lola = grandma; ulam = a filipino dish that goes with rice; sinigang = a soupy dish containing meat, veggies, fish sauce, etc.

the air conditioning rattles inside the dining room, the noise serving as background noise to a scene that reminds hajime of home. an amalgamation of steamed bok choy, marinated pork belly, and acrid fish sauce wafts through the air. this week's ulam is sinigang. her favorite, he recalls.

the empty space beside the pair leaves a bitter taste of emptiness and longing on their tongues, but neither expresses it, nor are they aware of the other's parallel feelings. instead, they sit in comfortable silence while hajime's nanay spoons the soup into a serving bowl and his lola plates the freshly cooked rice, the scene reminiscent of childhood summers spent together under the blazing heat with the promise of good, hearty food.

billows of steam dance up, up, and up into the ceiling and drift away into nothingness, all while two chairs squeak against wood, alerting the table of the women's arrival. tooru thanks them for the meal excitedly. something is amiss.

"it's too hot to eat sinigang in this weather," his mother scolds, despite carefully pouring a spoonful of the soup into her own bowl of rice. "you should've asked me to cook something cooler. i would've been fine with cooking those korean cold noodles you always like."

"it's fine," her son responds earnestly. his words are slightly muffled from the bits of meat and veggies stuffed in his cheeks, a habit he hadn't grown out of since his youth. "it tastes good, anyways."

tooru's eyes light up with his own taste of the meal. "really good. it tastes really, really good. they don't have food like this in argentina, you know."

hajime's lola chuckles at his remark, her back flushed against her seat and her hands folded on her lap. "i'm sure you missed this," she remarks. something in her tone is airy yet playful. "hajime told me about your travels. have you found any lovers overseas? any romance?"

"oh, yes! it's good for you guys to find someone to settle with at your age," his mother chirps in, and the two men are choked with shock.

unease riddles itself into both of their bones. there's a truthful, honest answer that they're both capable of crafting in their heads. but if there is one thing they have in common, it's that they're stubborn. so, together (unknowingly), they push away their respective realities and opt for something vague. something that prances around the bushes of what they know to be factual.

the argentinian is the first to speak up. "i have a little bit of an interest in someone, but i don't think i plan on doing anything about it soon." there's an awkward chuckle tacked onto the end of his statement and a crack in his syllables, but he tries desperately not to think about it. he glances over at hajime in hopes that whatever his friend says will save them from the pressure.

"same for me. work's too busy these days, i can't focus on those things right now, nanay."

much to his demise, it doesn't save them, at all.

--

"...and we walked around the villages for quite a bit, talked to a few locals; it was fun. i think the scenery helped with my writing block."

the man across from her wears a corporate smile and it irks her, almost. he's not the ideal image of a manager. she'd envisioned something more friendly, something therapeutic, far from the person sitting on her couch writing down notes dutifully.

"that's good," he exclaims absentmindedly as he continues to jot down note after note after note. she wonders what he could possibly be writing about. her poor time management skills? her diminishing motivation and lack of individualism in a growing sea of competition? she doesn't want to imagine it.

he pauses for a moment. the notebook in his hands plops neatly onto the coffee table, and his hands settle onto his lap. it's too professional. too robotic. "have you considered going on tour?"

"sorry?"

"well, i was talking to your label, and they believed that it'd be a fitting time for you to do a tour around the country considering the rapid success of your most recent album." the man's stare burns laser-ignited holes into her flesh, as if he isn't asking her to consider the offer, but rather telling her to do it.

"but i thought they wanted me to begin working on a new album," she quips. there's a small edge of bitterness to her voice that leaks out against her will.

her manager, with all the neutrality and competence he can muster, chuckles softly at her concern. "of course, we already thought about that. we were wondering if you would like to try having a third party produce your instrumentals, in order to lessen the burden and ensure faster production. all you'd have to do while on tour is work on your lyrics and record. it's time efficient, and distributes all the responsibilities as opposed to you handling everything on your end."

she wants to laugh at him, but she knows it's improper and rude when all he's trying to do is maximize her profit -- the job that he was assigned to do. but she can't quite fight the twitch beneath her eye and the shifting of her weight in her disturbance. "look, i understand you're trying to help me, but-" her breath hitches. a tinge of anger bubbles up in her throat and she's scared it's going to make things worse. her hands grab at the fabric of her pants as if to restrain herself from unleashing something she doesn't quite mean. "i've been doing everything the same way every year -- i've composed every song, i've written every lyric, all the music videos are directed by me, and i don't get why you would think changing any of that would help."

anxiety crawls up the surface area of her spine and clings onto her. her manager is silent, evidently deep in thought, and his eyes drift away to the window. his hand smooths his hair away from his forehead, the action embedding some sort of fear into her that she knows is misplaced. "let's talk about this another time. i'll give you a while to consider the deal. i hope you can compose a clear and concise answer by then," he speaks, his tone far too formal for her liking. he excuses himself before she can respond, and before she can think about what he said, the door closes (nearly slams) shut behind her.

she can't help the small yet fleeting curse that spills from her lips, nor the sigh that escapes shortly after. irritation is a cruel and ugly feeling, she decides.

but the door squeaks open just as quickly as it was shut. footsteps -- heavy, loud, and slow -- approach the couch from behind. when she looks up, she's met with a pair of faces looking down at her.

"we brought drinks," tooru chirps out in an attempt to alleviate the friction coagulating in the air. "and food. from iwa's mom, of course."

the upturn of her lips is beyond her control. "i really need that," she breathes out. hajime shakes his head at the misery before him.

"what'd you do?"

"i didn't do anything. it's just more grievances from the industry. they want this, they want that; anything that'll grant them more money will do."

the two make themselves comfortable beside her, with the more lively of the duo on her right and her muse on her left. tooru pops open the bottle of soju unceremoniously while hajime pries open the tupperware lid on the table. the scene is welcoming and warm, a stark contrast to the cold monotony of her manager and the white-hot resentment simmering in her lungs. it feels right.

her eyes fall to the desktop at the side of the room and the haphazard arrangement of materials on her table (a leather notebook filled with vague compositions of soon-to-be-lyrics, the same pen she's been using since her second year of high school, an expensive microphone provided to her by her label that she needs to clean more often), and for the first time in a long while, she finds herself questioning the importance of her career. gone are the days of drafting cheesy songs in her bedroom and singing about the infatuation that seems to have altered her perception of the word permanently; she's become a cog to the machine and she only realizes it now. something in her aches.

hajime's stare follows hers, his cheeks puffed up with warm sinigang and rice. he questions the furrow in her brow and the displeasure in her gaze and finds his mind running back to the other night. the syrupy words and heartfelt verbiage clearly addressed to someone he may or may not know plague his mind, and he wonders if he'd find something similar in the notes sprawled across her desk.

tooru is silent. as opposed to his friends, whose eyes are cast to the same point, he's stuck watching them. the proximity of their legs, the coordination in their movement, the warmth that exudes from their combined presence; it all slowly chips away at whatever buried hope he'd carried with him from argentina to his home country.

it's a half return to normalcy. they're all bound together by long-time loyalty and care, but with the transfiguration of their hearts, it's different. there's a shift in the air attributed to maturation and growth. they don't want to acknowledge it.

♪ sorry if this is vague </3 i don't want to explain too in depth in fear of exposing too much plot but essentially this a moment where they realize that they can't really go back to normal (as in, the way they used to be as friends) with all of their changing lives and changing feelings

♪ i say this every time but i hope this chapter makes sense LOL its a lot less silly and more just a feeling of dread

♪ slightly based on half return by adrienne lenker (such a beautiful song)

♪ tooru definitely did gossip with hajime's mom and grandma while they were cooking. he loves listening to them rant about their annoying neighbors or lovesick coworkers

♪ i hc that hajime speaks in taglish (tagalog + english) on accident sometimes with yn and tooru but they've listened to his mom and lola talk enough that they understand

♪ i dont have much to say i just want to get to the next chapter already

taglist: @froyaoya @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @yuminako @chemiru @sunnyskiezzzz @httpsivy @itsdragonius @theycallmenanamisgirl @wyrcan @19calicos @hunnies4bunnies @mawenskiblue @diorzs @loverlunaire @mfcherry @solaqes

[autisticempathydaemon]

Redactober 2024 Day Twenty-Three

Prompt: Morgan & Money

Pairing: Morgan/Morgan’s Listener

cw: second person POV, Morgan is inspired by Nick Young from Crazy Rich Asians

“Morgan, the bread costs more money than I make in two hours.”

Available on AO3 here!

<- Prev Day | Next Day ->

“When you said let’s get dinner somewhere near the department office, I imagined something more… casual, lowkey.”

“Yeah? There is this Michelin ramen place from Japan that just opened a California location that I was considering, but that seemed like it’d be busy. I picked here because it’d be more quiet.” You look around at the fine furnishings of the French bistro, the housemade butter on the table, and the semi-private table away from the main dining room with a maître d’ just around the corner if you call, and you agree it’s quiet… quiet luxury perhaps. As Morgan flips through the wine list, tapping his fingers in thought against the table, you really look at him and notice the sleek watch on his wrist, the immaculate tailoring of his suit, the lush youth of his skin that glows of the best korean skin care.

“Morgan Kyne, are you loaded?” you ask, staring incredulously at him over your menu so you don’t have to look at the highbrow items ominously labeled “MP” for “Market Price”.

“Hardly,” he says with a small laugh and dismissive wave of the hand. “I’d consider myself… comfortable.”

“Morgan, the bread costs more money than I make in two hours. I don’t think I can be here; I can’t afford this.”

“You can and should be here, because you’re my guest,” the other seer insists, leaning closer to lightly touch your wrist and meet your eyes. “You don’t need to afford it, because I invited you to dinner; thus it’s my treat.” His gaze is intense and solid, his touch fleeting and electric, and you giggle nervously between his attention and unfamiliar, understated grandeur of the place.

“Are you sure it’s not the Sodality’s treat? Feels like you’re trying to show off how much they pay their Seer Obscuras,” you joke, sipping the water you have an uncomfortable suspicion was served to you in bonafide crystal.

“It’s not nothing, I’ll give you that. Though, if I thought that was all it took, I would have taken you somewhere really fancy,” he jokes back with a grin, revealing a rarely spotted dimple in his right cheek that is more tempting than any three star dinner.

[nanasknifeprty]

⋆ ★ Dating D.Va / Hana Song would include:

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

- at first, getting her attention would be veeery difficult. ambitious and determined as she is, she spends a lot of time training in order to perfect her abilities; and outside the battlefield, she pretty much spends most of her free time playing videogames.

- she won't want someone trying to get her to game less, as it's her passion and most dearest hobby - the only thing keeping her happy while trying to keep the troubled thoughts about the crisis and early war memories away. in fact, she most likely needs someone who shares her passion for gaming, and she loooves having your eyes on her while gaming and showing off her skills to you.

- however, she also absolutely needs someone who can keep her grounded whenever she's damaging herself while either being too focused on training, playing videogames or overworking herself with brand deals, placements or other things all within the public eye. as soon as it gets too overwhelming, you need to be the one comforting her and giving her a chance to breathe.

- she will get angry or pouty whenever you call her out for being too reckless or too focused on her fictional gaming world sometimes, but it absolutely is needed. at times forgets taking care of herself and she'll be in absolute denial over her sometimes self-destructive behavior, and even though she can't really express it most of the time: she is so goddamn thankful for having you in her life.

- she doesn't like having her skills belittled in any way and she's easily offended when talking negatively about something she's very good at. you'll need to shower her with love and attention at all possible times - she's that hungry for your attention. she also absolutely looves physical touch.

- also, she is in need of constant reassurance. regardless of what she's doing; even if the coffee she makes you is a bit too strong or the pancake she lovingly tries to fry is a little too burned - failure is not an option to her and she won't respond all too maturely to criticism.

- as much as she loves playing videogames with you, she also needs someone willing to listen to her endless yapping, either about her coworkers or the newest videogame she's been into recently - just smile and nod and you'll be fine, at least for the first few days.

- oh and she's a jealous one. so whenever a certain cowboy tries to get your attention at the overwatch base, she'll be cooking, like literally. you honestly started to wonder how anyone who ever tried to hit on you is still alive and breathing.

- regardless of all her slightly demanding and mildly negative moments, she never ever shys away from telling you how much she loves you - in any given way of telling you;

being a pro-gamer, she's certainly able to afford a lot of gifts, so you better expect a lot of them, and be prepared for many spontaneous vacations. she caught you talking about a particular artist whose music you like? she'll surprise you with tickets for their next show. hell, she'll most likely also get you a meet & greet or a personalized message if her connections allow it. you're looking at a cute bag while shopping but turn away from it as soon as you spot the price tag? no biggie, hana will have you covered. dining out at super fancy restaurants isn't a rare occasion either, even though both of you prefer doing a game and movie night with pizza and snacks as much as you can.

- PETNAMES. you better find a sweet and creative one for her, although she also often folds when getting called 'baby' or 'babe'. her favorite one has to be 'bunny' though. she'll respond with the same amount of energy and give you the cutest and most thoughtful nicknames, both in english and in korean.

- expect random tickle- or pillow fights, and she won't back down before achieving victory. but "don't be sad about your loss," she'll always say in order to cheer you up. "the consolation prize consists of endless cuddles!"

[ladamedusoif]

Hot Chocolate (Marcus Pike x gn!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 3

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist. FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, turn on notifications for my posts.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1280 words

Warnings: Implied smut, some heavy making out, Marcus being an adorable foodie romantic art nerd, fluff city. No use of Y/N and no physical descriptions of Reader whatsoever. 

Summary: Snowed in and forced to stay over at your colleague’s Georgetown apartment, Marcus whips up a sweet treat to keep you warm.

“I don’t have much by way of dessert,” Marcus muses from the kitchen, where he’s peering into his fridge. 

You finish gathering the last of the takeout boxes from his dining table and begin cleaning them out at the sink. “You’ve given me a room for the night, Marcus, I don’t need dessert. Hey, where’s your recycling bin?” 

He gestures to a cupboard near the sink and leans back on the counter, thinking. “Actually, would you like some hot chocolate? I think I’ve got everything I need.”

Everything he needs?, you think, wondering what more you could possibly need for hot chocolate beyond some powdered mix and milk. Marshmallows, if you were feeling fancy.

“Sure, sounds good to me.” 

He grins in delight and starts rummaging in a cupboard, emerging with bars of dark chocolate and a jar of ground cinnamon, before delving into the fridge and retrieving milk and heavy cream. A heavy-bottomed saucepan is produced and positioned on the hob as Marcus mutters something about finding his grater.

This isn’t going to be cheap-ass powdered mix, is it.

Alright, full disclosure: if someone hooked you up to a polygraph machine and asked you if you had a teeny tiny harmless little workplace crush on Marcus Pike, you’d have to answer in the affirmative.

And who wouldn’t? He was kind and funny, and smart as hell, quietly undertaking a PhD in art history and cultural policy at Georgetown while continuing to work full-time. He was one of the few people in the team who actually kept up with the art world, regularly seeking you out after a new show opened at the National Gallery to exchange your thoughts on it over coffee in the canteen. 

The fact that he was also really cute didn’t hurt, either. 

When snow and ice blocked the routes out of DC back to your place in Alexandria, leaving you stranded, Marcus immediately suggested that you stay over at his place. See? Kind. 

“I’ll be fine, Marcus, really,” you’d protested, searching for hotel rooms in the city and recoiling when you saw the prices - and the lack of options. “Anyway, isn’t your place a one-bed?”

Marcus shrugged. “I’ve got a big couch, spare blankets and pillows, and I won’t stand by and see you hunkering down here for the night. C’mon. We’ll get takeout - I know a great little Korean place.”

He carefully grates the dark chocolate into a bowl while you whisk most of the cream. 

“Y’know, I really thought you were going to pull out a couple of sachets of Swiss Miss? I should have known better.”

Marcus chuckles to himself and checks the saucepan of milk. “Usually I’m a Swiss Miss kinda guy, I have to admit. But when you have guests, you do the Viennese hot chocolate. I like to make a fuss.”

You hold out the bowl of cream for him to inspect and he nods, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. You put it down and fold your arms as you watch him work.

“Is it really Viennese, or is that just a name they use to make it sound all fancy?”

He laughs and looks at you in mock horror. “Of course it’s really Viennese! I even had it for the first time in Vienna.” Marcus takes the saucepan off the heat and adds the chocolate along with some sugar, a little cinnamon, and a dash of heavy cream. He begins to whisk the mixture carefully.

“It was one summer when I was a student - I had almost no money, but I did have one of those European Interrail tickets and I tried to see as much great art as I could. Took an overnight train to Vienna to see the Klimts at the Belvedere.” He pauses his whisking to assess the texture, then resumes.

“Like I said, I was down to my last few dollars - or Euros, or whatever the currency was at the time - but the one thing I was gonna do besides see the Klimts was go to a real Viennese café.”

The hot chocolate is frothy now, thick and glossy. Marcus nods in the direction of a cupboard and you open it, finding some mugs.

“So I’m guessing you got to a café.”

He turns off the stove and smiles at the memory. “Sure did. Café Central. It was like something out of a Stefan Zweig novel.” He takes a ladle out of a drawer and proceeds to fill the mugs with the steaming chocolate. “And I had a mug of something a bit like this - but much, much better - and a slice of apple strudel, and it was heaven.”

Marcus finishes off the chocolate by placing a large dollop of whipped cream in each mug, and hands one to you.

“This is…incredible. I don’t think I can ever go back to Swiss Miss.”

Marcus chuckles and sips his chocolate, sitting beside you on the couch. “I’m glad you like it. Perfect drink for a snowed-in night.”

You take another deep draught of the delicious, smooth drink and hum happily to yourself. “And I’m checking out flights to Vienna first chance I get.”

He looks at you intently. “Uh, you’ve… uh…”

You can see a giggle rising in his chest. He can’t suppress it, and he laughs out loud. 

“Why is the thought of me going to Vienna so funny to you?”

Marcus’s expression shifts to one of concern and he quickly shakes his head. “No, that sounds wonderful - you’ll love it - it’s just…” He reaches over and gently rubs the tip of your nose with his thumb, removing a large blob of whipped cream. “You had a little, uh, something.”

“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry.” You look down into your mug, a little embarrassed, but try to lighten the mood. “Feels like we’re in a scene from a cheesy holiday movie, y’know?”

He quirks his head. “How so?”

“Oh, you know. The whole ‘one character has whipped cream or something on their face and the other has to swipe it away and then…’”

You stop short, realising what you were about to say - and becoming very aware of just how close you are to him now.

Marcus’s voice is warm and low. “And then?”

Is he moving closer?

“And then… um. And then they usually, uh…”

He finishes your sentence by leaning in and kissing you, softly, gently at first. Your breath hitches as you feel the softness of his lips on yours. 

He breaks away for a second, staying close. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s…it’s great.” 

He takes your mug and puts it on the coffee table before cradling your face in his big hands and leaning in to kiss you again: a little harder, now, his tongue seeking entry to your mouth as your hands reach for his body and you lean back on the couch. 

You moan and whine with pleasure as you feel Marcus’s hands caressing your body, taste the bittersweetness of the chocolate on his lips and tongue. As he moves his mouth to your neck, sucking and nibbling and licking his way along the sensitive skin, you begin to unbutton his shirt and reach for his belt buckle.

“Marcus?”

He looks up for an instant, hair tousled and eyes as deep and dark and shiny as perfect hot chocolate.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight. You’re keeping me warm in bed.”

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[gyupinkys]

PLEASE?

JUN X FEM READER

Bestfriends to lovers since exclusive fairytale is driving me insane…

WC:1.6K

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, switch jun, switch reader, oral (m receiving), fingering, creampie, begging, mentions of viagra, begging

Moving into college is hard. It’s your second year, yet every new dorm is equally as much of a hassle. You finally flop onto your bed after hanging up all your clothes only to be met with the rumbling of your stomach. 

“God, I should've eaten breakfast.” you mumble to yourself, thankful your roommate is nowhere to be found.

You begrudgingly get up and walk out, head deep into your phone trying to find the nearest dining hall on the campus map. You find the closest one to you is only a few buildings over, just to crash into someone in front of you, making you stumble back.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry” you say looking up at the tall blonde. 

“Nah, it's my bad. I was too into my phone, I'm trying to find a dining hall.” he says in a deep, smooth voice. Damn. He’s really fucking hot. The unnatural blonde suits him so well, and his cat-like eyes are incredibly attractive. 

“I’m actually looking for one too. There's one a few buildings over, you want to go with me?”

“Sure.”

From then a beautiful friendship bloomed. You learned his name is Jun, he’s from china, he speaks mandarin, cantonese, and korean. He loves to dance. His best friend/roommate's name is Minghao who is also from China and has bright red hair so it would be hard to miss him on campus. He used to be a child actor, but got into business so he can take over his dad’s company, and most importantly he is filthy rich. He didn’t even bother to say he’s “Comfortable” like most rich people do, he just said “I can pay all four years of full tuition with no worries.” which told you everything you needed to know. You and Jun quickly became friends, attached to the hip would be an understatement. Wherever you went, best believe Jun would be there. He became your go-to person. If you needed something he would get it for you, if you needed help he would be there, he was even there to ice your nipples when you got them pierced. You lost all shame when it came to Jun, he was your person. So when you walk into your room one day, just to see Jun laying shirtless in your bed, covered in sweat, with his dick in his hands, and your panties to his nose, you’re beyond confused. 

“Jun?” you say with wide eyes, quickly shutting the door.

“I’m sorry Y/N, Hoshi tricked me and gave me chocolate but it was some sort of fucking viagra and now I can’t stop thinking about you and I’m sorry if this is weird and ruins our relationship and i know I should’ve just went to my room, but I know your roommate and hao are in there and I really wanted to see you and I knew you could help me-”

“Jun, slow down what?”

“Y/N, please fuck me.” he says with a whine.

You feel like you could collapse right now. 

You slowly walk up to him and take his chin into your hand, raising his face to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Y/N. Please.”

You straddle his thighs and kiss him and take his dick into your hands, beginning to stroke it making him groan. “Jun, how long have you felt like this?”

“Since you bumped into me in the hallway. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” he says and leans forward to kiss you again. He runs his hands across your body and squeezes your ass. 

“Baby, please let me fuck you.”

“Jun, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Imagine how crazy you drove me every time you bent over only wearing one of my shirts, every time you wore a shirt with no bra, touched me in a certain way, looked at me with those pretty eyes, smiled at me. I’ve wanted to make you mine for so long, to be able to call you my girl.”

You smile at him, a bright, beautiful smile, making his heart skip a beat. You lean back and take off your shirt, his hands immediately flying to your chest, squeezing them.

“When I saw these tits for the first time I popped a boner. I had to pretend I was fine seeing your nipples pebble up from the ice.”

“I wish you did what you were thinking. You helping me made me sooo wet.”

He runs his hands to your sweatpants and pulls them down, helping you get off leaving you in just your panties. He sits up and kisses up your chest and around your face. He kisses your forehead, then your eyelids, the tip of your nose, your jaw, and finally your lips.

“Please fuck me, Jun.”

He flips the two of you over pulling off his sweats and boxers. “Where are your condoms?” 

“You don’t need one.”

“Baby, are you sure?”

“Yes Jun! Just fill me up already.” you whine.

He groans into your neck, running his fingers through your folds, only to find you ridiculously wet. “All this just for me?” he smirks at you, slowly circling his finger on your clit. 

“Yes, Jun”

“You flatter me, Baby.”

He runs his fingers down and plunges two straight into your hole, cutting to the chase and feeling around for your G-spot. He knows he found it when your back arches off the bed and you grab his hair, pulling his lips to yours. He continues thrusting up into your sweet spot, making your toes curl. You pull his hair and look into his eyes. 

“I want to cum on your cock, Junnie.”

“And exactly when I think I couldn’t be more in love with you, you surprise me.” he says with a smile. “But no.” he says as his eyes darken.

“What the fuck do you mean no?” you say in shock.

“I mean, you’ll cum when I let you cum.”

“Jun, stop teasing.”

“I can show you what real teasing looks like, Baby.” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into your mouth as you're about to rebuttal.

He pulls you up by your hair and pushes you to your knees. “You know what to do Baby, I’ve heard first hand about how much of a whore you are.”

You groan but lick his leaking tip while looking into his eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, '' you say challengingly. 

He looks into your eyes and shrugs. “I guess I’ll have to show you.”

He hooks his fingers into your mouth to widen it and shoves his dick straight into your mouth without giving you any time to adjust. He begins to thrust into your mouth and straight down your throat making you gag, but his fingers make you unable to close your mouth. You look at him with pleading eyes, but the tears running down your face only turns him on more. He decides he’s had enough. He needs to fuck that soaking wet pussy or he might actually die. He grabs your hand and throws you on the bed. 

“Spread your legs.”

You obey but you're plotting. Is he forgetting he was the one desperate for you to touch him? Now he wants to be in charge? Not on your watch. As he bottoms out in you, you let out a loud moan to distract him and flip him over. 

“Junnie, I think you’re forgetting you’re the one who's in desperate need of somewhere to dump their cum. You’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” you say and grind your hips into him, making his eyes roll back.

“I want you to beg for me.”

Without missing a beat he starts to beg. “Please fuck me Y/N, I need it. I feel like I'm gonna explode. You're so warm and tight I feel like I’m in heaven. Please help me, baby.”

You raise your hips and his hips chase you, making it so you don't raise off his dick. “Jun, how am I gonna ride you if you don’t let me up.”

He groans and glues his hips to the bed, letting you begin to bounce. You feel like he’s in your guts, moving your insides around to accommodate him. 

“God, Jun you feel so good.” you moan out as you bounce faster, ignoring the burn in your thighs.  He thrusts meeting your hips as you bounce, pushing his dick deeper into you. His hands travel to your clit, pressing firmly and rubbing tight circles. “Please cum baby, cum on my cock, I’m so close.”

Seeing him so pathetic beneath you does something to you. You grind harder, feeling his tip hit your spot everytime, throwing you over the edge. As soon as he feels the first squeeze of your cunt he lets go, filling you up completely, causing some to spill out of you onto his thighs. He pulls you down for a kiss, holding you as you come down from your orgasm. 

He looks you in the eye when he whispers “I love you” against your lips.

As the sun shines through your windows, you awake with a smile on your face. It feels so good to finally be in Jun’s arms as his girlfriend. You sit up and stretch making him get up with you. He wraps his hands around your waist. “I’m hungry,” he says. 

“You want me to order you something?”

“No, I’m hungry for something else. I missed out on eating it yesterday” he smirks and drags you down onto the bed with him.

A/N: LMK if you want a part 2 with her roommate and how? I'm thinking a forced proximity kind of thing.