#but it’s like if you worked at a cake shop all day-the last thing u wanna eat when you get home for dinner is more cake idk

[lunarcrown]

My friends on their knees: PLEASE WHAT COLORS ARE YOUR MCYT DESIGNS??? Where’s a PROPER REF??

Me: haha anyways here’s another banger I like to call “navy blue sketch on yellowy paper background” o7

[trsrina]

valentine’s day with zerobaseone

gn reader, established relationship, fluff !! mentions of food, not proofread

jiwoong

- even after being in a relationship with jiwoong for some time now, you still kick your feet and get all excited when you receive your yearly valentine’s surprise from him

- sends a box of chocolates and a bouquet of blue roses to your workplace in the middle of the day with a love letter in it (probably some cheesy love poem he racked his brain to come up with and feels very proud of)

- it will probably be something like “roses are red. my face is too. that only happens when i’m around you” written with crayons and decorated with silly childish stickers and doodles ,and you had to resist letting out the loudest laugh ever at that since you were still at work

other members under the cut!

zhanghao

- sorry but YOU have to ask him to be your valentine, not the other way around and you have to do it fast before anyone else (hanbin) snatches him away from you

- no but seriously he would’ve cleared out his entire schedule for that day just to spend it all with you going out just idk eating at some cute but overpriced café (don’t worry, he pays), shopping and just gossiping over some coffee

- ends the day with a night stroll at a park with your hands intertwined and swinging by your sides maybe feed some ducks you saw while chatting the night away and just giggling to each other about something silly. it was simple but meant so much to the both of you

hanbin

- this is so serious for him like no one takes valentine’s day as serious as him so he makes sure to give you princess treatment throughout the whole day

- you wake up to the sound of a grizzling pan and smelling the aroma of the breakfast he’s preparing for you and damn this man CAN cook. serves you a five course meal at 8 am in the morning with like heart-shaped pancakes and eggs like this man is not real (sorry i just love domestic hanbin)

- after breakfast, you two return to bed since you were still feeling sleepy. he cuddles you to sleep, your head buried in his chest and literally clinging onto him, him with his arms tightly wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, gently patting you to sleep as he leaves small pecks all around your face and he probably has even more stuff planned later in the day

matthew

- matthew biggest green flag. spent so long planning the perfect valentine’s date for you and surprised you with a romantic picnic at the beach. he even sets up a table and chairs for the both of you, made sure all the food was perfect

- i can envision him covering your eyes during the walk from the car to the beach then surprising you. pulls out your chair for you and pushes your hair behind your ear and when you ask why he’ll say, “just wanted to take a better look at your pretty face”

- makes you giggles at his jokes the whole time and at last, gives you a final surprise which was an adorable cake with ‘happy valentine’s day’ written on it with icing that he spent the majority of yesterday making for you (u have no idea how many times he had to redo it)

taerae

- he serenades you. that would be the most taerae thing to do like seriously. he would start planning since christmas, writing a whole love song for you, him writing and composing it for you all by himself

- he would be so nervous when the day arrives. he would take you out to a nice restaurant, surprising you with flowers and all, then when the both of you return home, he sits you down on the couch and takes out his guitar

- starts strumming and you’re like, “i don’t recognise this song?” and realises that he wrote it and it took everything in you to not start crying on the spot. serenades you with his honey-like sweet voice while looking into your eyes like a lovesick man, literally making heart eyes at you and smiling like an idiot

ricky

- sends you a text in the morning which reads, “morning, baby. happy valentine’s day. i reserved a table at xxx restaurant for us at 6 pm. i’ll pick you up at 5:30 pm. i love you.”

- the moment you receive that text you start giggling and kicking your feet while burying your face into your pillow, only ricky can make you feel this way.

- you dress up for him and the moment you see him, he’s leaning against his car in a button up with the first few buttons unbuttoned and a huge bouquet of flowers. holds your hand the whole time, during the ride and dinner, listens intently to all of your rambling during the whole of dinner and also pays !!! (bc he’s young and rich)

gyuvin

- rings your doorbell enthusiastically with flowers and gifts dressed in his best attire, fixing his hair every few seconds to make sure he looks perfect for you. shyly hands you the bouquet he arranged himself when you open the door

- he would drag you to a dog café for your date and he’s most likely even more excited about this than you, just looking at the bright grin on his face and the giggles he lets out while he plays with the puppies makes a smile appear on your face too

- would probably point at every dog and says it looks like you because it’s cute just like you. no but imagine you guys sharing a pasta together and accidentally recreating the lady and the tramp scene omg

gunwook

- bowling date with gunwook omg okay his jaw will literally drop the moment he sees you arrive all dressed up like he thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and won’t stop giggling and blushing every time he glances at you

- pays for everything and takes the chance to show off his skills in bowling. coolest guy ever just the way he confidently strikes the bowling pins with the bowling ball but gets so shy and blush when you cheer for him and compliment him

- and when you’re getting food together at a restaurant, he would not stop staring at you. his head propped up on his hand as he stares at you hopelessly, utterly lost in your eyes and down bad. he’s the type to wipe your mouth for you when you have something on the corner of your lips.

yujin

- your first valentine’s day together so he would be so anxious about it and shy. he would make sure everything goes smoothly and plans it all out like buying tickets to that movie you said you wanted to watch in advance and making reservations for a restaurant you mentioned you wanted to visit before (most likely the first time he ever made a reservation by himself in his lifetime)

- takes you to the movies and insists on paying for your popcorn and drinks. probably watching some cheesy romcom together and since it’s valentine’s day, you’re surrounded with couples which just makes him even shyer

- holds your hand and whispers silly comments about the movie in your ear throughout the movie. he couldn’t focus at all because you were right beside him

short little valentine’s headcanons that i rushed to make it on time 😓

[pookiebearmick]

Laughing/smiling into kisses; pulling away and looking at each other with softened smiles !

this one is so cute!!! i'm doing a little bday moment for ian <3

The last thing Ian expected to wake up to on his birthday was an empty bed. He rolled over to find that his husband was gone, which was definitely out of the ordinary because Ian always had to coax Mickey out of bed after their multiple alarms let them know it was time to get up and ready for work.

Ian checked the time, 7:52AM, earlier than their usual 8AM alarm. This made it even stranger that Mickey wasn't in bed with him. He listened closely to see if he could hear anything to signal that Mickey was moving around somewhere in their small apartment. Strangely, he felt like he could hear a pin drop.

"Mick?" he called out to what seemed to be an empty apartment.

No reply. He rolled back to his other side and reached out for his phone, pulling up his messages to shoot Mickey a quick "where tf r u" text. It was Thursday, after all. They needed to be ready to leave their apartment by 9:30 to get to the growhouse for their first pickup of the day, and Ian was really hoping to have some lazy birthday sex before hopping in the shower.

He gave himself a couple more minutes in bed, scrolling on Instagram and responding to some "Happy Birthday Ian!!" text messages from his siblings, before he decided that it was time for him to get up and start some coffee. Fiona had sent him a french press and some coffee grounds from her favorite local shop in Florida for his birthday, and Ian was enjoying his fancy new kitchen gadget.

Mickey still hadn't responded to his text, so Ian started calling him as he measured out the grounds. He listened to the line ring two or three times before hearing jingling of keys and the unlocking of their apartment door.

"Where'd you go off to before 8 in the morning?" Ian asked, glancing over at the door as it opened before ending his phone call and grabbing the kettle to fill up with water.

"Well," Mickey started, shuffling out of his boots and moving into the kitchen, "I was hoping to surprise you with some breakfast from that café you're always talking about, but it seems the cat's outta the bag on that one."

Ian chuckled softly, setting the kettle on the burner and cranking it to high heat. "I told you you didn't have to do anything for my birthday, Mick. Getting together with the family for dinner and cake feels like a celebration enough for me."

He turned to face his husband, who was standing next to their small table with a soft smile and eyebrows raised. Mickey had just set down two styrofoam boxes of take out on the table, but still had a small bouquet of blue flowers in his hand.

"Wanted to," he said quickly to Ian, stepping forward and closing the gap between them.

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey's waist and leaned down to kiss him, pulling Mickey in closer as he slotted their lips together.

He pulled back and looked at the flowers in Mickey's hand. "Sap," he teased with a small giggle, before leaning in and kissing Mickey again.

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey grumbled. "Your birthday's so close to Mother's Day that all the shops had flowers on sale. Couldn't fuckin' get out of there without someone putting flowers in my face." Despite the grumbling, Mickey was smiling softly up at Ian.

Ian absolutely loved that his husband was sweet and loving with him like this, getting up early to get him flowers and a special breakfast for his birthday. "Sure, Mick," he said sweetly, smiling back at Mickey. He leaned down and kissed Mickey once more through a big smile.

"Happy Birthday, lover," Mickey spoke softly, smiling sweetly back at Ian and meeting his gaze.

[nariism]

links ➠ event info ✧ rules ✧ send a request!

works will be added here in no particular order as they get (probably slowly) completed ^ ^ due to similar submissions, some requests have been combined into one. subject to change !!

BLUE LOCK

wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin

soulmates + "i'm done waiting."

itoshi rin meets you under a sky full of fireworks. he spends the next 6 years of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn't love you. you spend the next 6 years giving him every reason why he should.

another sunny day — i. rin

handcuffed together + matchmaking gone wrong

rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously.

to the ends of our world — i. rin

academic rivals to lovers + "i could kiss you right now!" + "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

all he said was that he would help you with calculus. he didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

always watching over you — i. rin

enemies to lovers + drunk confession

if rin hates you then why is he calling you up at two in the morning?

the voice in my heart — i. sae

forced proximity + "oh no, the power went out, however will we stay warm?!" (/s)

itoshi sae doesn't like how mushy you make him feel, but the warmth is nice. kinda.

those words you spoke to me — i. sae

"i think i'm in love with you." + "don't look at me that way." + unrequited love (damn are you ok)

you were always staring at itoshi sae's back. he was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes.

the love that binds us — i. yoichi

mutual pining + "i could kiss you right now!"

isagi yoichi already has you wrapped around his finger. now all he has to do is be brave about it. or, you know. impulsive.

GENSHIN IMPACT

across the violet sky — lyney

"you look beautiful in the moonlight."

all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...

ink to paper — k. ayato

mutual & oblivious pining + "don't look at me that way."

yes, he thinks. what would he do without you? well, his schedule would be a mess, for one. and he wouldn't know how to cut bunny ears into his apples, either.

a simple mission — neuvillette

accidental confession + "say it again. please."

oh. oh no. you were most certainly not supposed to overhear this conversation between the iudex and the duke, but now you don't even know how to act right.

HAIKYUU

a place to call home — k. shinsuke

one bed + childhood rivals to lovers

"be kind, shinsuke." that's what yumie always told her grandson. and he would live by those words, even if it meant sleeping on the floor every weekend.

strangeling — u. wakatoshi

"we're fighting. i'll take the couch tonight." ➡️ (bonus) "we were fighting???"

it's not fair. how are you supposed to stay mad at him if he's going to choose you over the comfort of his bed?

JUJUTSU KAISEN

what it means to love — f. megumi

accidental confession + "do you want my jacket?"

turns out that being raised by gojo means sometimes accidentally throwing all inhibition into the wind.

letters from heaven — g. satoru

"i think i'm in love with you." + "wait, don't pull away... not yet." + oblivious pining

love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries. that was satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens.

CHAINSAW MAN

adamantine dreams — h. aki

one bed + "wait, don't pull away... not yet."

there was a time before you when aki found it hard to sleep. call it sleep debt or whatever, but he's going to squeeze every ounce of rest he can get from his body now.

© NARIISM 2024 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[tuesdayiminlove]

happy disaster

rockstar!eddie x fem!waitress!reader (imperfect for you universe)

summary: how you two meet

author's note: an ask about how they met came earlier today and i couldn't help myself lol. not proofread sorry! also this could be read as a standalone! but u can read the og part here! hope u guys enjoy lmk what yall think xoxo

word count: 3.1k

You’ve had your fair share of jobs throughout the last few years, trying to make ends meet while also being a consumer of the various cute things you see when you’re at the mall with your friends. One time (and this may have been one of the more miserable experiences), you worked as a receptionist for an auto shop (get it now?)).

Needless to say, you were at the bottom of the hierarchy at that whole joint. When you weren’t answering calls and taking hyperspecific notes to not confuse the actual mechanics, you were practically shunned from the moment you stepped up from your seat and onto the street to eat your lunch at the bench outside. And whenever your lips did part to make even the simplest of comments, the men either laughed at you or made you feel stupid (“You guys hired me! Clearly I’m not a fucking idiot!” you dreamt of saying, but you were just never one for the dramatics and confrontation of it all).

And, the worst part, on days you couldn’t go into work, none of the other receptionists would switch with you.

(“Sorry, babe, I just can’t,” you remember Joey Warner staying after taking a drag of his cig, coughing mere seconds later from not exhaling immediately. You wanted to take the cigarette between your fingers, toss it down, and squish it with your shoes. You really needed to pick up your brother from school, and no one at the shop is ever up Joey’s ass since he’s a guy.

“Oh. It’s alright.” You curse yourself and your lack of ever wanting conflict, because you’re more than positive that this boy deserves a beating for not taking the reins for an hour just so that your poor baby brother won’t have to wait on the cold sidewalk for your mom, who is forty minutes late.

You walk back into the shop without another word.)

So. yeah, call this mechanic memory useless, but now it's clear that your jobs have been absolute dog shit in the past.

But being a waitress at Carly’s Diner, in comparison, takes the cake in the coworker camaraderie contest.

Like, now, you’re enjoying your break with Carrie, splitting half a cupcake that Jim managed to slip into your guys’ hands when he was pulling the fresh desserts from the oven. You two have turns at it, taking nimble bites from the vanilla confection and wiping rainbow sprinkles off your uniform in the process. Your nose blends in the smell of the cupcake and Carrie’s sweet perfume, leaving a little bubble where you can hardly tell what the boys in the kitchen are whipping up right now.

Judy passes through the doors in a haste, heaving before setting her eyes on you two. The notepad in her hands is crumpled up and her hair looks all over the place, eyes bewildered as she stalks towards you and Carrie, a complan ready to spill from her red lips. 

“This fucking couple on table three is driving me nuts! Nuts!” She slumps her back against the wall and swipes a piece of frosting off the cupcake before sticking it in her mouth, sighing in relief.

“Hey,” Carrie swats Judy’s hand, “watch the cupcake!” She places it behind her back possessively.

Carrie is nearly six months pregnant and craving every sweet treat Jim has to offer in between tables and shifts. It’s a miracle that she let you split the dessert with her just now, “And table three, you said?”

Judy ignores her earlier words and nods. “I swear to God, I don’t understand your goddamn generation and why you heaps are so fucking rude. I can't do this.”

“Don’t group us with those weirdos,” says Carrie. “And I’d like to see them be rude to a pregnant woman. Protect this,” she hands you the cupcake carefully, looking at you in the eyes with intent, “and I mean it.”

Her voice is so determined, you decide that you don’t want your fair share of bites anymore. You nod dutifully.

“I got this, Jude.” She swipes the notepad from the older woman’s hands.

And with that, Carrie is kicking herself off the wall and out of the kitchen, into the main part of the diner. You silently pray for the couple that now has to deal with a moody and pregnant Carrie. 

See? Now, this is what you mean! No mechanic or receptionist at Billy’s Auto Parts will ever be willing to face an alleged-annoying couple for their coworker. Sometimes, waitressing can take the light and happiness out of you once you’re clocked out, but at least you’re surrounded by the half-decent people in your town.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Judy calls out with a wicked laugh. “Gotta love that girl… hey can I have a bite?”

You frown, knowing you’re already unable to say no when Judy is stressed and you know for sure that the confection in your hand is enough to sweeten even the most stressed—Jim just has that magic to him. “Yeah, but don’t make the dent obvious.”

You think you’re gonna spend the rest of your break with Judy, hiding in between the two walls in the corner of the kitchen until Carrie comes back. You lick a small sprinkle off the cupcake, ready to ask the woman if her daughter won the spelling bee that she’s been freaking out over all week, when the office door swings open and Lenny’s head peeks out, eyes going to the first two waitresses that he can spot.

“Hey!” he shouts yours and Judy’s last names to steal the attention. “Can one of you guys go out and get Evan? Her daughter’s principal is on the phone.” He wipes his sweat-stained brow and doesn’t wait for a response. “Thanks,”

You and Judy look back at each other. And immediately you know that you’re not going to make Judy be the one.

“I got it,” you say with a soft smile. “... You’re gonna eat the rest of this are you?”

She laughs and swipes the cupcake. “For you, my love, I wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you.”

You blow her a kiss, already making your way to the double doors of the kitchen, straightening out your ponytail and getting your waitressing voice ready (patient and respectful, garnering the best tips you can try to get). Your eyes give one swipe across the diner, catching Carrie’s eye as she talks to the couple sitting down beneath her, holding her precious bump to make a show of it. She gives you a sly wink and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

Afternoon rush makes it hard to spot Evan at first. His smaller stature makes it even harder to spot him in the crowd, but your eyes eventually zone in on him smiling at customer that is blocked by a family getting up to leave. You smile upon finding him and make your way to the table.

As you get closer, you finally notice who Evan is speaking two, and your brows pinch quizzically. The man is hunched, looking over the menu with sunglasses adorning his face despite his table not even facing the sun. His jet black curls curve around the lines of his face, making his features harder to notice. It almost reminds you of the movies you watch late at night when you’re munching on diner leftovers on your couch, the runaway criminal stopping for a bite to eat while trying to flee the state. 

“Evan,” you say softly, not wanting to draw attention to yourself but you know it's already bound to happen since you’re switching places with him. “Lenny’s got your daughter’s school on the phone. They’re asking for you.”

The man’s eyes widen. “Great,” he mutters, “What do you think it is this time?” “I hope she said ‘fuck you’ to that little pipsqueak again,” you joke, seeing the anxiety in Evan’s eyes at not knowing why he’s receiving a call during work. You remember the first time he got called to his daughter’s school from work due to her cursing out an older boy: the entire kitchen was laughing—Evan included—as they all wished him good luck with that meeting. “Can’t be worse than that.”

He sighed, turning back to the customer, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m going to hand you off to her for a bit.” He says your name to further introduce you two. "Thank you for your patience.”

And for the first time up close, you look at the sunglassed man and smile. Perfect teeth flash at you, mildly astonishing you at how cute he looked when he did so. It’s not abnormal for you to find a customer attractive (it’s human, we’re human), but you don’t think a smile has ever made you secretly stop you from breathing for a second. 

Flustered, you’re clumsy as you and Evan switch spots. He pats your shoulder one last time, muttering a thank you as he rushes to the back. You follow his movements and frown for a split second and forget your task at hand. You hope his daughter is okay. You hope the kitchen will be laughing in t-minus three minutes over the fact that little baby-Evan gained a new curse word under her belt.

“Sorry,” you say, looking back at the man. You find him looking directly at you, knowing only because of how his head is positioned. His sunglasses are too tinted to even see a little beneath. “Can I start you off with anything to drink?”

“Oh—uh, yeah,” he stammers, before clearing his throat and offering a crooked smile. “Coffee, please. Milk and two sugars.”

Your handwriting matches the pace as he speaks. You hold a smile on your face to keep up pleasantries. “And have you decided what you would like to eat?”

“Not yet,” he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the menu. “Kind of hard to focus.” There’s a pause before he adds, a little quieter, “The menu’s got a lot of… options.”

You raise an eyebrow, tucking your notepad in the small pocket of your apron. You turn your head to see if anyone else is making coffee right now. You see Carrie there, and silently celebrate when she’s already staring at you. “All good. I’ll get your coffee ready and be right back–”

“—Wait.”

Your brows pinch, confused. “Yes?” His hand rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I was just, um… wondering if you had a favorite on the menu? Like… if there’s something you always recommend. Or��” He hesitates again, “Or like your favorite?”

You don’t know why he's so flustered. You don’t know why it makes you flustered. For a beat, you just look at him. Is he… trying to flirt with me? The thought isn’t unwelcome, but you certainly weren’t expecting it, or really believing it just yet. You tilt your head, trying your best to keep your expression neutral.

“Well,” you say eventually, “We have an all day breakfast, and that’s my favorite part of the menu, and I get it a lot. It’s on the next page.”

You wait for him to turn the menu, but he continues to stare back up at you, mouth agape.

“... Is that something you’re interested in?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” he replies immediately. And then, more composed, “Yeah, I can be in the mood for breakfast.” He finally flips the page, and his head tilts up to yours fleetingly.

“Great! Our cook, Jim, makes the best strawberry and white chocolate pancakes, so that’s what I would recommend from the breakfast menu.”

His lips tug into a small, bashful smile. “Sounds perfect. I’ll take that.”

“Perfect!” you grin, scribbling his order onto your notepad. “I’ll take this to the kitchen, and have your coffee ready soon!” You flash him one more look before retreating back towards the kitchen. You finally get to look back at Carrie, who is still looking at you, this time arms crossed.

“How was the couple?” you ask when you’re about to pass her.

“Annoyed them enough to leave.” She grabs your wrist, and you just dodge the yelp that wants to escape your lips. “Do you know who you were just talking to?”

You freeze. Her grip is firm, her expression serious enough to make you hesitate. Your gaze darts briefly toward the dining area, but you stop yourself from looking back at him. The last thing you want to do is risk being caught gawking.

“I... no?” you whisper, unsure of how to answer. But even as you say it, you feel a subtle heat creeping up your neck. The weight of eyes on your back makes your skin prickle, as if the mystery man somehow knows he’s the topic of conversation.

“Why don’t you go check the newspaper in the locker room and get back to me, yeah?” she finally lets her grip go, smirking like she knows something you don’t.

Carrie's words linger repeatedly in your brain as you hesitantly allow yourself to drop off the man’s order, and then to go see whether or not you’re serving a serial killer. 

You slip the stripped paper from your notepad to Colin’s hands. “Table thirteen,” you say in passing as you make the rest of the way to the locker room, not even Judy’s cheerful wave as she smiles with a cupcake still in her hand can stop you from the mission you have decided to go on.

Upon entering the locker room, you gaze zeroes in newspaper lying flat on the bench, its closed pages teasing you with potential revelations about your current customer. You hesitantly flip it over as you come face-to-face with the front headline 

HIT AND DIP: ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON LEAVES IN HASTE AFTER CHICAGO SHOW 

Your eyes widen as they lock onto the grainy photo accompanying the article. There’s no mistaking it. The guy at table thirteen. Eddie Munson. Rockstar. Your customer. 

For the first time, you finally see his eyes. But instead of him taking his sunglasses off to reveal his brown hues, you see them straight on in the form of a camera flashing and printing onto the paper right in front of you. He looks borderline pissed as he’s gripping his guitar and shooing the paparazzi in the background away, the picture managing to catch the split-second that his eyes meet with the camera.

“He’s hot.”

You jump, clutching the newspaper to your chest as you turn to meet eyes with Judy casually leaning over your shoulder with a grin.

“Judy!” you hiss, sighing in relief. 

“What?” she says plainly, “He is.”

“He is also currently Evan’s customer on table thirteen that I now have to serve.”

Judy’s pupil’s dilate. ��Oh shit.”

You want to make a joking comment, calling Judy a cougar, but you’re interrupted by Carrie peeking her head in through the door. She looks down at the newspaper in your hands, and then back to your eyes. “Told you,” she says, her smirk from earlier still on her face.

Before you can respond annoyingly, Jim’s voice blares through the back. “Order up!” he shouts. “Waffles for thirteen!”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets.

“Jesus, do you ever slow down?” Carrie yells out the door.

They hear Jim’s “No!” and fan out back into the kitchen.

“Good luck, my love,” sings Judy.

“Can you ask for an autograph?” asks Carrie. She motions to her belly and gives it a soft pat. “She’ll think I’m real cool!” 

“Ha, ha,” you roll your eyes, already holding the order as you kick the double doors open, passing back into the diner. You try your best to calm your heart as you pour coffee into the kettle, taking sugar from the side of the counter and putting two teaspoons into the mug. You feel eyes on you the entire time, and you don’t need to look up to know whose covered eyes they belong to. 

It’s not every day that you get to serve a goddamn celebrity, so she thinks that everyone should give her a break (she’s specifically talking to her heart—it needs to stop beating so rapidly, making her brain think something is wrong).

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you hold the plate on one hand, and the mug on the other. “Just a customer,” you whisper under your breath, beginning to walk. “Just a ridiculously famous, incredibly good-looking customer who better leave a stunning tip.”

As you approach table thirteen, you notice that Eddie shifts slightly in his seat. One of his legs bounces under the table, and he drums his fingers lightly against the edge of the booth.

You \ set the plate and coffee down in front of him, you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Waffles and coffee,” you announce, sliding the plate and mug onto the table with practiced ease. You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake—too much, anyway.

Eddie leans back, grinning up at you. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your heart stops. You couldn’t help but think his eyes hold a knowing look, like he knew exactly what went down and now knows that you know exactly who he is.

“Enjoy,” you grin back. 

Behind you, you hear him mutter something under his breath, followed by a quiet groan, and you can’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest that he enjoyed what you recommended to him. 

The rest of the rockstar’s stay goes smoothly. You don’t intend on saying anything to give away what you know, despite it probably already being known, and you're grateful by this normalcy. You refill his coffee, make light conversation (the weather is particularly sunny and pretty today, shining through the windows and letting pretty glow spread through the diner), and take his plate when he’s wiped it clean.

You don’t even think much of his stay, mind already going back to it being a regular customer that deserves no more or less attention than anyone else is supposed to.

(Sure, his smile lingers in your mind a little longer than you’d like to admit—so what if his smile is better than any that you’ve seen, anyway?)

It isn’t until Eddie’s up and left and you trail back to the table to wipe it off, a damp rag in hand, do you notice the wad of cash left in his wake that is definitely worth more than his bill.

Your jaw drops down, staring at it and contemplating what to do with that much of an amount of money in front of you.

Next to it, a folded napkin sits.

Your mind immediately goes to an autograph; that he’s one of those celebrities, and he just couldn’t resist leaving a little something to prove of his appearance.

You’re taken back when you unfold it to see his number scribbled messily onto the fabric. Your fingers shake as you move your thumb to fully read the note that he added at the bottom,

Call me. Please. :)

[achromaticsremixture]

Chapter 2 

Madara: Oya, oya, Arashi! Put in a bit more energy, and let your voice ring from your diaphragm! 

Madara: Yosh! Yell with me, Arashi! WELCOME, WELCOME WELCOME WELCOMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! 

Hajime: U-um…? Mikejima-senpai, Narukami-senpai…how are you…? 

Madara: Oh? We’ve attracted two adorable little customers immediately! The round cakes are very cheap right now, they’re only 3000 yen! If you put loaaaads of strawberries on top, they’ll be even tastier! 

Hajime: N-no, we’re not customers…

Hajime: Are Mikejima-senpai and Narukami-senpai working at the pastry shop? 

Madara: Yes. Our friend asked us to help gather customers! Christmas is the season for pastry shops, after all. 

Madara: Come on, Arashi. Stop looking so bored. Smile for Mama, okay~? 

Madara: If you’re too shy to yell, I’ll go and serve the customers myself~ 

Madara: Arashi just needs to smile and wave at the customers, okay? 

Madara: You’re a beautiful girl, so everyone will stop and stare! 

Arashi: Wait!! We only agreed to smiling!! I only decided to come help because I didn’t think we’d need to yell! 

Arashi: And in the end…we’ve been stuck standing out here in the cold. What if I catch a bug?! 

Madara: Oho! There’s no need to worry! Arashi’s just the same as me, isn’t she? She’s also bundled up with warmth packs inside her uniform~ 

Madara: Unlike you, I’m so hot that I want to take off all my clothes! 

Arashi: Alright, alright!! I’m wrong, okay??? I won’t be cold right now, but this job…it’s so thankless!! 

Arashi: I only accepted this job because I thought I could stand outside wearing a Santa costume! 

Arashi: This is a form of scamming, Mama. You scammed me with the “there’s a cute santa costume” from the beginning! 

Madara: No, I’m not lying~ I really had them prepare a cute Santa costume! 

Madara: Just…it’s made for girls. I don’t think it’s really suited for Arashi, is it? Since Arashi doesn’t like wearing tight and revealing clothes. 

Arashi: Yeah..you’re right. But this job is really so BORING!! Mama, can I go home now? 

Madara: Hm~ But we haven’t reached our goal yet. If you go back now, then I’ll be suuper bothered. Help me out for a bit longer, will you? 

Madara: After we’re done, we get free cakes!! 

Arashi: No…no…I don’t want the cakes…

Madara: Hm? Arashi, don’t you like eating sweet things? 

Arashi: I do like eating sweets, but…I’ve been putting on weight lately, so I have to watch what I eat. 

Arashi: That’s why even if we get cakes, I’ll feel bad, okay? 

Madara: Nah, Arashi! I don’t think you look fat at all! You’ve just been gaining muscle from what I’ve observed~ 

Arashi: Ugh…Mama!! I hate how I easily gain muscle, and you just bring it up like that?! 

Madara: Sorry, sorry! But, that’s how it is, is it? 

Madara: I wanted to ask Arashi for help tomorrow as well…ahh, this is such a chore!! My braincells are slowly dying one by one!! 

Arashi: Why do you even need to help them out after tomorrow? The other party only asked Mama to help out for one day, right? 

Madara: No? We need to help from the next few days onwards. Did I forget to tell you, Arashi? 

Madara: After all, we’re hosting the S1 on Christmas Day. This job is a nice one that won’t last until Christmas Day/Silent Night, so I took it! 

Madara: Anyways, the point is that they want us to help tomorrow and the day after too! 

Madara: I’ll find someone else to come help tomorrow, but it was already really hard getting a volunteer today…

Madara: So, Arashi…even if you want me to kneel down, even if you want me to do the most humiliating things…I’ll do it! I’m just begging you, please help out this once! 

Arashi: A person like you kneeling down in the middle of the road would just attract attention!! Sigh, I really can’t deal with you, can I…? 

Arashi: We’re ride or die, right? I’ll stay with you until the end of the day. 

Tomoya: Ah, both of you look very busy…then we’ll see you soon! 

Tomoya: About the customers, please work hard!! Hey, Hajime! Let’s go! 

Tomoya: They’re working so hard…I kinda feel bad for disturbing them. 

Tomoya: I remember Hajime used to take this kind of job before. It’s really a pain in the ass, right? 

Hajime: ………..

Tomoya: Hajime!! Oi~ I’m talking to you, Hajime! 

Hajime: Oh. Uh, Tomoya? You were saying? 

Tomoya: How are you always lost in the clouds like this…what are you thinking about? I’m always here for you, you know? 

Hajime: Ah- it’s nothing…I was just thinking about what we’d eat for dinner tonight…

Hajime: Tomoya, my parents will be worried if I get back late. Let’s go back early~ 

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's p2

PART 2 IS FINISHED WHOO

here's a link to part 1 uwu

so i'm still brainrotting over this and i would like to date almost every character rn~ i probably won't add more to this unprompted but if anyone wants a part 2 just shoot me an ask! <3

tags: gn!reader, xiao x reader, zhongli x reader, ningguang x reader, beidou x reader, kazuha x reader, amber x reader, keqing x reader, venti x reader, scaramouche x reader, thoma x reader

xiao

this man is so awkward goodbye

he’s really popping into the kitchen of wangshu inn like mr. smiley yanxiao i need an order of almond tofu and uhh whatever the hell it is sick people eat

asks cloud retainer if there’s a medicinal thing she’s created and hey can you fix my s/o

meanwhile his s/o is like xiao- xiao- XIAO- it’s a COLD i’ll SURVIVE, stop leaving me to find solutions and just come cuddle

so xiao cuddles <3 he’ll read to his partner but it’s likely he’s also just sitting there in silence holding his s/o

he likes the companionship, doesn’t talk much. comfy silence all around

his partner probably falls asleep on him at some point but he’s okay with it

he probably watches his partner while they rest and he’s super frowny because he hates seeing them in pain :(

but also the gentle forehead kisses while his partner rests <3

he tells zhongli that he needs time to be with his s/o while they’re ill. he makes it sound like his partner is dying which is...overdramatic but also he just wants to dote on them and make sure they’re okay

he asks verr goldet what things a sick person might want while his partner rests and then he tries to kinda sorta subtly ask for help getting them

tries to dote on his partner subtly but he’s so grumpy all the time LOL

n e ways he gives his partner smooches and cuddles and that’s all that matters uwu

zhongli

he doesn’t even have to really say it to hu tao, she just knows he’s about to ask for a few days off. he does ask, ofc bc he’s following the protocols of social etiquette

he goes to his partner’s home or they’re in his for the entire time they’re sick

has a shopping list of foods for a sick person, also gets tea

has no mora to purchase anything on his shopping list so he hits up tartaglia LMAO

tartaglia comes w zhongli just to visit zhongli’s s/o

hu tao also comes to visit zhongli and co but he’s so wary of her because is she about to pull a prank- really she just brings him some tea he likes and wishes his s/o well <3 she probably sings to them too but it’s a little creepy if you listen to the lyrics LOL

this man is not reading his partner stories, they’re getting histories, pov morax. he knows so many little details that are lost in time but are kept safely in his memories

the man works out, tell me otherwise. he may choose his own body and he knows he has cake but the man works out and trains. he’s a god of WAR and he keeps himself in good shape. n e way he works out in the living room or backyard while his s/o is sick and he trains w just a shirt and pants and he’s so pretty aHEm i think my asthma is acting up again hang on

okay but muscles rippling and you can see it through the clothes that aren’t even that tight BUT BRO WHY ARE YOU GRUNTING SO MUCH PLEASE NO ONE ELSE DOES

would probably get his partner toys and such and one of them is a little dragon <3 give it smooches every day

he’s distracted when he answers hu tao or the adepti because he’s thinking ab his partner instead

ningguang

the frown on her face when she finds out PHEW

she takes her partner’s temperature with the back of her hand and she’s all frowny all day. ganyu is lowkey concerned bc what’s the matter with lady ningguang-

her partner stays in ningguang’s home and she’s working from home for a while <3 there are millelith guards and members of the qixing popping into her home office and even beidou once or twice. bei is also worried ab ning’s partner, but she’s doing the hearty slap on the back and the “get well soon!”

ningguang ordering food from wanmin and xiangling personally delivering it <3 xiangling and guoba are both showing up with some hot soup and guoba is there for cuddles pls he’s so cute

ningguang will read to her partner, probably tells them about her day and entertains small talk until they fall asleep

she cooks some of her qiankun mora meat and tries to make her partner soup <3 the millelith and the qixing have never seen their tianquan in a kitchen working before but she would only ever do it for the people she loves

keqing is in the corner quietly shipping while munching golden shrimp balls goodbye

i think ningguang respects ganyu too much to force her to run around for stuff but ganyu probably likes ning’s partner enough to do it anyway

ning and cuddles and temple kisses and she won’t give her partner smooches on the lips :( but she’s soft for them so they get cheek kisses and spooning them to sleep

beidou

she stays at her partner’s place while they’re sick because the crux might make them feel seasick instead

but she goes back and forth to the crux to get her things and take care of business and such. her crew probably loves her partner so they have things for bei to bring back <3

bei doesn’t even leave her partner’s town but she’s got sango pearls, cecilias, qingxin, cor lapis jewelry, dendrobiums (even though those are like. blood flowers. they’re pretty it’s fine) and many many fruits

xiangling comes by with food for bei and co and sticks around to hear beidou telling her partner stories about her time at sea

beidou is. she’s so buff okay. she carries her partner in and out of the room and to the living room or kitchen or brings everything to her partner and you can see how defined her muscles are bye i’m in love with her

we already know bei learned to cook a little bit from xiangling but beidou is absolutely learning to cook more while her partner is sick. xiangling is there giving her cooking lessons while beidou’s partner watches <3 bei with that look of concentration and she’s so quick with the knives too i’m- okay but her spoonfeeding her partner?? *chef’s kiss* ;)

beidou puts too much pepper in a dish and it deffo clears sinuses LMAO but she tried and it actually does taste very good if you can handle your spice 🤷‍♀️ i cannot so find me with a gallon of milk later

n e ways beidou cuddles her partner to sleep and falls asleep as soon as she knows they’re resting <3 many cuddles and many kisses, even if they insist not to because cooties will get u sick bei 🥺

visits bubu’s pharmacy to get her partner’s medicine herself but also has remedies from other places too! zhongli deffo helps her with some other gifts for convalescents so it’s historically, traditionally and socially acceptable

kazuha

is so worried omg

wherever his ass is, he’s going to his partner as soon as he finds out they’re sick. he’s so frowny and worried it’s almost cute but also,,,kazu it’s a cold, it’s FINE

he goes to collect qingxin and sweet flowers and stuff himself and makes his own poultices and soups and such <3

he shows up at his partner’s home with arms and buckets of flowers and herbs as soon as he possibly can. bei understands if he has to go tho, she gives him leave uwu

makes his partner soup and dried fish and gives them many smooches <3 they are not allowed out of bed LOL they just have to stay there and wait for him to dote on them

many many cuddles and smooches. he plays leaves and grass and recites poems for them he’s so cute <3 sigh, this man plays grass and i’m out here simping

also comes bearing gifts from wherever he was last tho. if he was on the crux, he’s probably got gifts from beidou and the crew even if they don’t really know kazu’s partner, they just know he’s happy and that’s what matters. if he’s not on the crux, his boss probably gives him leave and a gift or smth even if it’s just like a tea or a bottle of wine or smth

he’ll cuddle and be a blanket. but he’s also got fabrics that beidou picked up in inazuma and he uses that as a blanket for his partner <3

will tell his s/o stories of his childhood, his time wandering, his time with the crew, his work. anything they want to know or have questions about, he’ll tell them.

forehead kisses, temple kisses, holding his partner’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand ugh i love him

deffo gets sick because he can’t deny his partner smooches on the lips smh. and then it’s his partner’s turn to play nursemaid

the crew from the crux probably drops by to check on kazoo man and co. they bring some regional delicacies and blankets and their best cold remedies with a slap on the back for kazu and a gentler pat for his partner. like w ningguang’s partner, bei probably gives kazu’s s/o a hearty slap but it’s not enough to hurt them

anyway i’m in love with him

amber

she’s so worried she’s such a sweetie omg

she goes to her partner immediately and fusses over them before they have to gently tell her that they’re fine

she goes to collect sweet flowers and stuff and goes to ohm, albedo and barbara for help making medicines and such

doesn’t want to leave her duties unattended to but jean also knows that amber wants to be with her s/o so she tells amber that she has fewer duties for her <3

jean tells kaeya to go make sure amber is doing okay and doesn’t need help or anything so he drags ohm, diluc, albedo and lisa too LOL

lisa was planning on going anyway, she just used diluc to carry her books w this opportunity <3 albedo is just treating amber’s partner w meds and potions and things and lisa takes a peek at that too

she’s so sad she doesn’t have ohm’s super cold skin so she can’t be a human cooling pack for her partner </3 but she gives them many smooches on cheeks and foreheads and temples

barely resists giving her partner kisses on the lips bc she still wants to go to work but also wants to give her partner what they need and sigh. it’s a struggle for amber

she wears pajamas and cuddles with her s/o <3

cooks her partner some (fully cooked!!) meals, not her specialty steak. but she makes soup and goes to good hunter and gets good hot food there too

keqing

wants to take some time off to help her partner feel better but also doesn’t want to leave work. ningguang probably sends her home at some point because she’s fretting and working and stop feeling so bad keqing, you have sick days

she still goes to work but she’s just taking marginally shorter days sigh, she goes home early instead but brings work home so she can do it while sitting with her partner

wears leisure clothes when at home with her partner but the fact that she has clothes she doesn’t use for work is shocking LMAO the cat ears stay tho ;) catgirl always

ganyu comes by with keqing’s work, some wanmin takeout and a card and gift for her partner <3

xiangling hears that keqing is home with her partner while they’re sick and brings food over to keqing’s. she’s got extra golden shrimp balls for keqing. AND AGAIN. GUOBA CUDDLES ❤️❤️❤️

keqing feels so bad for not doing as much work, she’s making herself almost as sick as her partner </3

ningguang comes over one night with beidou while keqing is doing work in bed while her partner is resting and she sees keqing stressed as all hell. she just gives keqing some food and tells her to actually rest. soft!ning and bei being moms god i love them

okay but keqing tucking her partner in with a sweet kiss before retreating to her work in the corner, the lamps turned to the lowest they can possibly be because keqing refuses to leave her beloved but can’t not do work

keqing trying to cook food for her partner that isn’t meant specifically for survival but for taste is so cute. she’s trying to cook golden shrimp balls and soup and stuff and she’s not bad at it! she took a single night of giving her s/o hot tea and some wanmin soup before she learned the whole cookbook so she can be the one to cook for them <3

venti

he brings his partner wine u cannot tell me otherwise

he goes to diluc’s. not the tavern but straight up dawn winery and asks diluc if he can get a bottle of wine for his s/o and please please please he’ll go fight some of those slimes for you, please? with the big 🥺 and staying outside diluc’s window to beg bye

diluc just gives him the wine with a glare but won’t make venti do the commission <3 venti legit says “thank barbatos” and gives diluc an ~ehe~ before he gets ready to glide away. he turns around and asks diluc if he’s sure he can’t do the comm but diluc just glares at him all broody~

diluc comes by to check on venti’s partner too bc where does venti live- venti is just camping out at his partner’s place for now and feeding them and giving them wine and diluc just kinda goes a little pink but glares while he says “get well soon” and leaves a windwheel aster from near the winery

venti makes soup and many vegetable/fruity foods because “they’re good for you! have some wine with that ehe”

jean comes by at some point with barbara to check on venti and co. they’ve got other foods and some hydro healing for venti’s partner <3

ohm comes over to see his friend and brings him some medicines, food and wine. he gets to witness the anemo god get all soft and squooshy for his s/o it’s so sweet

he uses anemo to entertain his partner with some gentle breezes playing through leaves <3 but he also plays his lyre for them and gives them smooches in between and during songs because he’s a god ofc he isn’t gonna get sick, pay the bard with kisses. and where’s his gratuity :( 😗

he doesn’t read to his s/o but he does tell them stories with a musical accompaniment. sometimes his partner will fall asleep so he just smiles so softly and tucks them in and continues playing his lyre at the window while they sleep <3

but also brushing his partner’s hair back and giving them a kiss on the forehead please i love my beloved kinnie

n e ways venti forehead smooches and playing the lyre for his s/o <3 no cough meds ehe, just dandelion wine and whatever ohm gave him (that was, in fact, the cough medicine)

scaramouche

bro this dude looks like he CANNOT be assed but he really cares <3<3

his work schedule doesn’t change but he’s going to his s/o’s home super often with soup and food and medicine and extra blankets

even to his partner, scara looks broody but he always looks like that LOL

tartaglia finds out where scara is going and he brings food and toys and stuff too <3 scara later has to read one of the kids books tartaglia brought and he refuses to voices but it’s very sweet anyway

scara probably asks sandrone if his doctor brother can get him some good cold medicine but would never admit that he asked ohm for help LOL. ohm shows up anyway and finds out <3

can and will cook soup but that’s all you’re getting from him. the takeout he brought is most definitely not something he made, no sir’am he would never do something as soft as cook for them. soup doesn’t count, it’s oboiling water with some added flavor, shut up tartagalicious he’s not soft

will give his partner kisses only after he thinks they’re asleep. refuses to give them any affection besides a headpat or two and maybe one hug when he shows real concern. his partner isn’t quite yet asleep one time and then feigns sleeping when they hear scara’s whispered “i love you” and he presses a kiss to their forehead 🥺❤️

he takes off his hat inside the house but will go around with a blanket around his shoulders to mock his partner smh. the blanket is on his head like a hood and he fake sniffles with an almost derisive laugh but he gives his partner a real smile at the end <3

9/10 times will never admit that he’s soft unless it’s a Very Serious Moment but he’s a squishy dood for his s/o and his s/o only

will not read or sing to his partner but he’ll sorta cuddle if they ask very nicely and many times. it’s just kind of him sitting next to them and they kind of have to muzzle before he’ll move his arm for his own comfort LMAO

will bring his partner gifts and food, a few flowers but he’ll just claim he’s delivering it from someone else with a look of fake disgust </3 maybe like two of those are actually from other ppl and not him

when his partner is actually feeling really sick, he won’t be a big smol meanie and he actually looks so concerned~ his partner means a lot to him and he doesn’t want them to feel sick or in pain so he’ll cuddle them unprompted and rub their back, run his hand thru their hair, soft forehead and temple kisses and “i’m here, baby” and “i love you” and falling asleep with his partner tucked under his chin <3 he’s actually so sweet bye 😭

thoma

thoma feels so bad when his partner is sick. it isn’t even his fault but he feels so bad because he wants to protect them, even from tiny little germs 😭 i’m sorry u can’t be my immune system thoma it’s FINE

he asks to take off work and ayaka just kinda sighs but smiles and waves a hand to dismiss him bc yes ofc you can, simp

ayato just laughs when he sees this LMAO BYE

thoma’s partner stays at his home, in his bed or a guest room (idk if he has his own place or stays w the kamisatos as their literal live-in maid but anyway)

his partner gets his care, any doctors or caretakers around ritou, the medic from the crux, the kamisato family doctor- this man is using some of his favors for medicine and then cuddling his s/o, ugh i want to date him sm

both kamisatos come by with some food for thoma and co but poor ayato can’t even keep his grin contained, poor thoma is conditioned to be nervous ab what ayato feeds him LOL

he’s cooking for his partner, legit gives them a list of options and an “anything you want, my love?”

cuddles his s/o even tho they might protest but it takes like 0.2 seconds to stop protesting bc that man is comfy

tells his partner stories about what it was like back home in mondstadt and his journey to inazuma and why he’s there as well as his stories about all the different kinds of people he’s met

taroumaru coming w kozue to the kamisato estate to get some hot tea to thoma 🥺 and the cuddles and nuzzles from this great doggo for thoma before he turns to his partner too 😭 straight up jumps in the bed and licks their faces a little before nuzzling in for a hug

n e way thoma gives a lot of hugs and kisses and cuddles and i think he’s hella touchy-feely and misses home and treasures his partner even more because of it

my beautiful red shield ❤️

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

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

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

“I thought he was cool before.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kinda do—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

epi-epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[fictionalwh0ree]

could i request a jj imagine where they’re both pogues and he’s comforting the reader while she’s crying because maybe her family gets robbed either from their home or they own a small shack business and her parents ask her to give her last few paychecks to pay bills but her paycheck was to buy things for jj for his birthday and she feels super bad when it’s his actual birthday and everyone got him a gift and hers is something small but she made him the cake

and she’s really down but hides it for his bday and when they’re in private she apologizes profusely about it and he’s like “what do you mean this was the best day ever”

and he’s trying his best to comfort her because he knows that the pogue life is always tough financially nd gets exaggerated and is like “don’t worry baby, one day we’re gonna go full kook and i’ll buy you anything you wnd want youll forget about being so sad” and it ends in fluffff sorry i got carried away lol

bracelet- jj maybank

summary: your family's store gets robbed, forcing you to hand over the paychecks you were going to use to get your boyfriend's birthday gift. when his birthday comes, all you had was something small and you were worried he wouldn't like it.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

a/n: ahh im sorry it took so long to get out! i hope you enjoy tho :)

you had just finished your shift at work and were walking to your family's small diner/gift shop by the beach. you had your headphones in, humming along to the music playing.

as you approached the entrance of the diner, you could feel something was off. it was empty all around you. you glanced down at your phone, the movement turning it on to reveal the date and time. it was a saturday afternoon, a hot one at that. the place should've been busy, busier than every other day of the week.

you turned your music off and slowly opened the main door. your brows furrowed as you looked around. some stools had been tipped over, but that was about it.

"mom?" you called out.

"mom?" you said again, walking into the kitchen.

there she stood crying into your father's shoulder. your brother stood in the corner, his eyes blank.

"what's wrong?" you asked.

she looked up at you and her lips quivered before she let out another sob, turning her head back into your father's chest.

"seriously, what happened?" you asked, your worry growing.

"we were robbed," your father spoke.

"what?" you asked.

"your mom was at the cash and a man came in with a gun," he explained.

"what did they take?" you asked, slowly looking between your father and brother.

"the money. all of it," your brother said.

you were speechless. without money, your diner would close, taking away your whole family's main source of income. you felt some tears fall from your eyes and run down your cheeks. they kept falling silently as you thought about what would happen.

"they left most of the merchandise," your dad added.

you looked down, fidgeting with your bracelet. you had spent lots of your free time making these to sell in the shop. they usually had small charms with reminders of the outer banks. the tourists loved them.

you remembered your paychecks that you had meant to cash out in your bag. you rummaged through it until you found them. you handed them to your parents.

"here, i know it's not that much, but it should be enough to keep us afloat until we make up some more money," you said.

your mom began shaking her head.

"we can't take that, you earned it," she said.

"you guys need it more than i do. i'll make it back eventually," you said.

“thank you,” your mom says.

you helped your family clean up the store for a little while when you received a text.

jj:

hey

r u busy rn?

you:

not really

jj:

wanna come over?

you:

sure :)

you grabbed your keys and hopped into your dads car, with his permission of course, and drove to jj’s. you looked at yourself in the rearview mirror and wiped away the tear stains that were left. your eyes were still a bit puffy and you hoped jj wouldn't notice. you walked straight into his house and placed your bag on his couch next to him. you sat down and placed a kiss on his lips.

"hi," you smiled, plopping down on the couch next to him.

"fancy seeing you here," he said, turning to you.

you scoffed as he examined your face subtly.

"what's wrong?" he asked.

"what?" you asked.

"your eyes are sorta red and puffy. were you crying?"

"it's nothing, jj," you assured.

"well if you were crying over it, then it's not noting," he reasoned.

"it's not a big deal," you said.

"come on," he pushed.

"the store was robbed," you admitted.

"what? were you there? are you hurt? is everyone okay? did they ta-" he began bombarding you with questions.

"1. no i was not there. 2. i'm fine, nobody was hurt. 3. yes, everyone's just a bit overhwelmed, i think. they didn't take much besides cash, but it'll all be okay," you said.

"are you sure?" he checked.

"yes," you confirmed.

he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side. you two laid there watching tv for a couple hours. jj mindlessly played with your bracelet, one of the ones you had made. he had once told you how much he liked them, but it was early on in your relationship so you never gave him one.

-

when you got home, you went straight to your room. hanging on your cork board was a calendar. one day stood out, it had a large red circle around it. jj's birthday, which had totally slipped your mind. you had been saving up your paychecks to get him a good, meaningful gift. something that would last, which meant expensive. you sighed and sat at your desk, rubbing your temples and trying to calm yourself down.

your breaths got shakier and a couple whimpers left your lips as you sobbed silently, finally letting out all your built up stress. you looked around your room and spotted your plastic organizer filled with beads, small pendants and charms. although it wasn't ideal, you settled on making you two matching bracelets. tomorrow was a saturday, which meant no school or work. you stayed up late making you two bracelets. you spent all of the next day making him a cake. you baked and decorated it simply. it was cute but wasn't super complex.

the day of jj's birthday came and you had just finished the bracelets the night before. the pogues were all going to jj's for lunch, planning on surfing in the afternoon, going home to shower and then going to a party in the cut in the evening.

you got read, doing your hair, make-up and wearing an outfit jj had previously said he loved on you. you had called kie to drive you, so the cake wouldn't get damaged. you two were the last to arrive at the house. the first thing you did was put the cake in the fridge and hide your small gift somewhere in his room for later.

"hi, baby," you greeted, giving him a kiss.

"hi," he said into the kiss.

"happy birthday," you smiled.

"thank you," he pulled you into a hug.

"do i get birthday sex this year, too, or?" he whispered into your ear, kissing down your jaw.

"break it up, you have time for that tonight," john b yelled.

you flipped him off before pulling away.

"come on, the pizza's getting cold," you said.

after the pizza was done, kie went to get the cake. she placed it on the table and john b pulled a little party hat out from his backpack. he placed it on jj's head, even though he refused. you all sang happy birthday, pope recording. kie had also brought a disposable camera, which she had been using to take cute photos. you all had a slice of cake, sounds of delight coming from the pogues.

"is the cake good?" you asked.

"so good," jj said, his mouth stuffed to the brim with semi-chewed food.

"you could've waited to swallow to answer," you giggled, licking your thumb to wipe off a smudge of cake that was by his cheek.

"sorry," he smiled, close-lipped.

you rolled your eyes jokingly. once the cake was done, john b, kie, and pope gave jj his gifts. you had told him yours was for later, which he obviously assumed was sex. you put on a smile as he opened his gifts. in your eyes, the pogues gifts had been 10x better than what you had given him. their gifts had been bigger and more expensive than yours, your smile faltered a bit.

after the long surf break, which went until around 7 pm, the three other pogues left. you began washing the dishes and you could see jj staring at you. you knew what he wanted.

you have to give it to him eventually, you thought. as you walked to the bedroom, you could see him following you like a lot puppy.

"i'm assuming you want your gift?" you said, your 'confidence' never faltering.

he nodded his head eagerly. you picked up the small box and handed it to him. he took a seat on the edge of the bed and so did you. he carefully opened it, placing the lid beside him. there sat two bracelets with some small glass beads. his was the colour of the dress you had worn when you told him you loved him, a dress he always recognized and constantly complimented. yours was the colour of the surfboard he had taught you to surf on. right in the middle was a small charm with your initials and a heart on each others bracelet. a small, genuine smile appeared on his face.

"i know it's not much. i was gonna get you something better, i swear, but then we were robbed and i had to give the money to my parents and- and it all just happened so fast. i'm so sorry. if you wanna wait til i get my next paycheck, i'll get you something be-" you rambled, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"baby, baby, baby," he said, holding your shoulders.

you looked up at him and he smiled.

"i love it," he smiled.

"you do?" you asked.

he nodded.

"i don't need anything expensive," he began, pulling the bracelet with his initial out and sliding it onto yor wrist, "i don't expect anything expensive. i know it's hard out here, i understand. it's hard enough a usual, but with your family's store getting robbed, it's so much harder. as long as i have you, it's going to be okay."

he had put his bracelet on. he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. when he pulled away, you smiled.

"atta girl," he said.

"don’t worry baby, one day we’re gonna go full kook and i’ll buy you anything you want, and you'll forget about being so sad,” he smiled back.

he picked up your wrist gently and placed a gentle kiss on the small charm with his initial.

[cverthinks]

was that EMILY ALYN LIND spotted down at the shoreline of east hamptons main beach? must just be, MARSEMMY MARS VERNON the TWENTY-FIVE year old BAKER. whenever i hear MIRACLE ALIGNER by THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS it reminds me of them. they are known for being SARCASTIC but they make up for that by being LAID BACK. they have been living in the hamptons for ONE YEAR.

howdy, my name is rian (they/them) and this is mars. if ya like what you see, please feel free to like this and i’ll swing into your pms to plot !!

s  t  a  t  i  s  t  i  c  s  

full  name ,  nicknames  :  marsemmy claudia vernon  ,  mars

age  ,  dob  ,  zodiac :  twenty-five  , february 29  ,  aquarius

hometown  :  geneva  ,  ny

gender  ,  pronouns :  cisfemale  , she / they

orientation  :  bisexual , biromantic ( closeted )

height :  5′4″

relationship status :  single

occupation  :  baker

language(s)  spoken  :  english  -  fluent   ,   french  -  fluent

similar  characters  :  shane madej  (  watcher network  )  ,  max mayfield (  stranger things )  ,  sloane peterson  (  ferris bueller’s day off  )  ,  veronica fisher   (  shameless  )  ,  donna pinciotti  (  that 70′s show  )  , audrey horne  (  twin peaks  )

aesthetics  :   being the big sister to many friends against your will, sharp black lines, tattoos poking out from professional crisp white sleeves, burgundy red lips upturned into a knowing smirk, living alone but always having to cook dinner for ten people, being wrapped in the comforting scent of vanilla, purple under eyes giving away yet another sleepless night, high waisted jeans, paint stained sneakers, saying ‘meh, good enough’, having a worrying amount of red wine in your pantry, the bitterest and hottest cup of black coffee you can find, hating your mom but also missing your mom, perpetual eye rolling, ordering a strawberry milkshake at any diner no matter what, watching a group of friends dance while you’re alone.

TLDR: if shane madej had possessed a small woman’s body and liked baking instead of hunting ‘ghosts’. sarcastic bordering on just plain callous sometimes. owns her own baking company where she makes cakes and pastries for rich assholes in the hamptons. mom friend but in the sense of her grabbing ears and calling her ‘kids’ idiots

a  b  o  u  t  (tw: parent death, grieving)

there’s nothing to really say about marsemmy vernon’s short time spent in brooklyn. the first four years, the only years she has when her family was a trio. her mother, an alcoholic and her father, a workaholic pastry chef. her memories are vague, but mars knows well-enough that they weren’t a happy little family in their one bedroom apartment. 

her parents try fixing their marriage by moving from their shitty situation. geneva was nice, the house they bought a fraction of the price and triple the size of what they had in the city (though, this is hardly a brag). the couple lasts for another two years before her mother leaves for good this time, not before scarring mars by forgetting to pick her up from her first day of kindergarten at the same time.

markus and marsemmy vernon worked much better as a duo, anyways. it was like they had a mutual understanding. they could only depend on one another, there was no one else in this town to call home except for one another. markus had been a baker since he was a teenager, bouncing around from shop to shop. when his wife left him and his daughter, he knew it was only up to him to finally plant roots to help his family grow. valhalla baking company opened in late 2004, priding himself on creative work and a place for any and all souls to find the same comfort he did in baked goods. mars would hang out at the shop daily after school whenever she could. picture, if you will: a small eight year old stepping onto a step stool to ring someone up. it’s no wonder that mars took to baking just like her father did. 

she takes care of herself in her adolescence, and more importantly, their father. the man who raised them, and taught them everything they knew. it was another thing mars was good at; nurturing, being the responsible one of the dynamic duo, even as a teenager. her childhood may have been nonexistent, but she tells herself she wouldn’t have traded it for anything. high school graduation comes and goes, and mars doesn’t go off to college like most of her classmates. instead, she dives headfirst into working full time at the bakery. valhalla is busier than ever after all, becoming a staple business in geneva.her father passed away very suddenly and tragically over a year ago. 

according to many news reports, markus verhoff fell asleep at the wheel after a long day of work, and crashed his car. mars doesn’t talk about him much these days, diving headfirst into her work the same way her father did, and going a step beyond: moving the business to the hamptons. after all, he left the business to her in his will. twenty-five years old and a business owner, it weighs heavy on her. but she tries her best. 

h  a  b  i  t  s

swearing |  fingernail  chewing  | slouching |  slurring  |  drinking |  smoking  |  drugs | impulse  decisions |  obsessive  phone  checking  |  bad  time  management |  slang  |  poor grammar  | overworking  | slacking  off |  over  sleeping | under sleeping |  skin picking |  poor  eye  contact  |  lying | rambling | skipping  breakfast | junk  food  | self  criticism |  procrastinating | day  dreaming |  forgetful  |  envious  |  jealous | gossiper |  drama  whore |  secret  teller |  skipping  class  |  spitting  | lip  licking | lip  chewing |  drinking  from  the  carton |  yelling  |  too  much  internet  |  poor  hygiene  | impatient | hot headed |  biased | complaining |  scab  picking  |  buzzfeed | cheek  biting |  teeth  gnashing  |  shoplifting  | scamming | speeding | hair  pulling | large  ego |  exaggerating  | fidgeting |  free  loading  |  littering  |  one  -  upping | whining |  borrowing  without  returning  | unnecessary  aggression |  plagiarism  |  copying  |  glaring | spacing  out | ignoring |  over  critical  | messy |  hateful  |  overly  prideful

[little-nobody]

me @ the duffers during the first 24 hours after watching vol 2:

"i hate u and i hope u slip on a banana peel while holding a birthday cake with ur fav shirt and get it dirty. i hope that both sides of ur pillow are gonna be too hot and u will never be comfortable in bed and have to turn around every second and i hope ur blanket dosent reach ur feet so they feel cold while u feel so hot but when u pull the blanket off u get very cold and there will be no way u ever will be comfortable in bed. i hope u lose ur fav things and u get all ur fav clothes dirty. i hope that u lose ur keys and pocket money u got from someone to buy smth. i hope that u buy something expired. i hope that everynight u rephrase the shinnie quote in ur head like a shinnie u are. a disgusting shinnie being. i hope that ur jeans are too tight and u grow out of ur fav shirt. i hope in school u get the longest lessons and the hardest most troublesome math twice a day. i hope ur lessons r gonna be the longest. i hope that ur hands r always sticky and ur ipad ur phone and ur keyboard are all dirty and sticky. i hope ur mom never kisses u on the forehead goodnight. i hope u are walking with an icecream and drop it when u just got it. i hope u break a new phone u just got. i hope u have to write a 15 page perfect grammar paragraph in another language u barely know and it takes a big impact on ur grade. i hope that u fail to peel a banana. i hope that ur socks get wet. i hope u drop ur mcdonald shake when u just got it. i hope u drop kfc when u just got it. i hope it rains and u don't have an umbrella. i hope that ur fingers r always cold and u dont have finger gloves on u, i hope u forget ur wallet when there's smth u rlly want in a shop and it's the last of it and u rlly want it. i hope u slip on ice while ice skating. i hope when u drive a car it runs out of gas. i hope ur charger breaks and u have to hold it in a certain angle for it to work."

me after those 24 hours:

"ANYWAYS, let me give you a whole synopsis of the entirety of season 4 and show you every hint of byler and why they should kiss, also did you know they played the fake out song when Eddie died? There's also that it was released on international joke day, also Robin girboss haha and then there's-"

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers Dropping Hints to a Remarkably Oblivious MC

I liked this idea and wanted to flesh it out a bit before I bury my head in research for requests. Maybe I'll make a part two later? Who knows.

Intro:

Seven demon brothers, one human. All seven want their attention… So the family agrees to a challenge: Can they get their human to return their affections without actually confessing first? Perhaps… but there's a catch. The MC is denser than a bag of bricks in the love department...

Good luck, boys.

Lucifer

If it weren't for this silly challenge, he'd have considered hiring a sky-writer because he couldn't think of anything more obvious and unavoidable than that…

It honestly astounded him how utterly unaffected the MC seems to be by all of his flirtations. It'd be impressive if it weren't so frustrating.

He could praise their appearance and they'd seemingly forget the compliment.

He could offer them all manner of gifts or meals and they'd think he was just being nice.

He could probably straight up give them a diamond ring and they'd assume it was a late birthday present… 

He was so out of ideas he was considering just ripping off the bandage and asking them directly, brothers be damned, but then that'd be admitting defeat and that’s just not on the table for him.

No, no… He just had to be more patient… Maybe offer them a dance next time? He'll win this challenge yet... maybe…

Mammon

Of course the Great Mammon can get his human to notice his feelings! He's their first man, he knows them more than anybody else! This will be a piece of cake. Right?... right…??

It is not. It is not a piece of cake.

First off, Mammon's already shot himself in the foot because of his tsundere-ness. Turns out when he says, "It's not because I like you!" they actually believe him… 😰

Secondly, he's terrible at expressing his affection in ways that aren't material or possessive...

When he buys them things, they think he's acting sweet and just… pay him back or buy him something in return…

Like, he's not complaining (much) but that's not the point!!

Then when he tries to spend extra time with them they assume it's Mammon being Mammon and not, like, because he's trying to show them how crazy he is about them.

And now he can’t even be honest about his feelings if he wants to because of the damn challenge!! 😫

This seemed like a lost cause for him really… Looks like someone else is going to have to win…

Leviathan

He's been cursing their name to here and back for stealing his heart so thoroughly while still having no idea that they actually had it!!! He'd almost swear they were mocking him but eventually, he genuinely started to think they were just that clueless… 🤦‍♀️

At first he thought that he found a loophole because he could just act out a bunch of obvious anime tropes to not-so-subtly hint at his affections!

...but each time he tried to make a move, he lost his nerve and chickened out at the last minute…

"MC! I just bought some pocky off of Akuzon, do you want to try some?"

"Sure, Levi! 🙂"

"Oh u-uh… Great! H-here you go.. " *hands them the whole box...*

When these efforts failed, he went to plan B, which was again not-so-subtly throwing hints at how special they were to him.

"Hey MC, do you remember that game you were looking at? I got it for us! Come on, let's play together! I'll even let you use my favorite controller!"

"MC, why don't you sit over here? W-wait not that close…! No wait, don’t go!! Urgh!! 😫"

At first he thought it was working until he overheard them talking to Mammon, "Mm? Oh, of course Levi's been so nice to me! We're best friends!"

… Ouch, but not unwarranted. He'd have to try something else or just admit defeat…

Satan

He still truly can't get a good read on them. Are they interested? Just nice? A chronic sufferer of selective blindness?? What does he have to do here???

Satan took a page out of Levi's playbook at first, but replaced anime tropes with what you find in old romance novels.

He was on his best behavior whenever MC was around. Downright gentlemanly, right down to kissing their hand and putting his jacket over puddles for them to walk.

… Unfortunately, Lucifer refused to be outshined by his little brother in the princely courtship department and the two started butting heads (almost literally).

If Satan gave up his jacket for a puddle, then Lucifer would take their hand to "help" them across it. If Satan held a door for them, then Lucifer would hold it too and insist that he go in first. If the MC was cold they suddenly were covered by two coats… It was infuriating!

And you know what's even worse? It was counterproductive.

After a while the MC just thought that it was some kind of game or challenge between him and Lucifer and not him trying to express his actual affections…

Looks like he wasn't going to be winning this either…

Asmodeus 

On one hand, he kind of gets it because he's lovey and feely with everybody but, sweetheart, please take a hint every once in a while…

Asmo comes into the game with both an advantage and disadvantage. He's far more versed in the art of wooing than any of his brothers, but he was so close with them to begin with it's going to take a lot to get the point across…

Confident boi starts inviting them out more, lunch "dates," spa days, shopping sprees, any excuse to be alone with them really hoping they'd get the idea…

...but they didn't. It was just some fun time with Asmo and not any particular special treatment…

His compliments all seemed to bounce off of them too. They never seemed particularly touched and he wouldn't be surprised if they forgot about them within five minutes of hearing them…

Kicking it up to drastic measures, he tries to initiate even more cuddles and hugs than usual… But it feels like he could literally sew himself to their clothes and they'd think he's just being friendly! How do they not see what's going on here, are they just messing with him??

After a week of trying to monopolize the MC's time he had to throw in the towel, certain if he couldn't get through to them then no one could! 😣

Beelzebub 

Well, Beel's a little oblivious himself sometimes so it's not like he couldn't relate… He just wished he could be upfront and ask them because they really didn't seem to notice.

Chances are he was already cuddling with them, sharing his food, taking them places, and doing all the stuff he'd usually do when he likes a person... They probably just considered that to be his normal behavior by that point…

So. He just does what he normally does, but MORE.

Suddenly he's giving the MC half of his meals instead of a third. (Which is what? Enough for a family of four?)

His hugs have gone from just firm to full on bear-snuggles.

He's always offering to take them to a new restaurant or some other place he likes and showing them the best things on the menu (written or hidden).

But it's not exactly going anywhere… 😥

They seemed happy and liked spending time with him but if they were actually noticing feelings for them at all, he couldn't tell…

After a while he kind of gives up on getting them to notice and just starts to enjoy making them happy. Sure, he won't win the challenge, but for now a smiling MC is enough for him 😊

Belphegor 

Look. He may be the King of Mixed Signals, but he's considering just giving up his crown but nothing he's tried has been working...

Similar to Mammon, he’s starting at a disadvantage by regularly being more than a little cryptic about his feelings…

To be honest, it was sort of a reflex for him by this point which didn’t help matters at all. He’s not that used to being completely open with his emotions so he has to fight the urge to downplay things all the time...

Oh, the MC agreed to go with him to the botanical gardens? Cool.

Wait, no, not just cool. It’s great! Really great!! He’s really happy about it, MC, can you see his smile?? He’s smiling! That’s rare! Please notice!!

(They don’t seem to notice…)

Eventually he got even more frustrated than Satan or Mammon and nearly just asked them point blank, but he knew his brothers would flip if he tried…

By the end of the challenge he thought it was a dumb, stupid waste of time and energy and he regrets ever agreeing to it (and he’s not just being pissy because he couldn’t pull it off or anything......)

Bonus: 

After a couple weeks of zero progress for everybody, the brothers seemed to snap. The MC woke up one morning for breakfast only to find their seven demons waiting intently for them to walk into the dining room. What followed was a cartoon squabble of kicked up dust, flying limbs, and thrown objects as each desperately tried to climb over the other in order to get to their human first (even Lucifer nearly flung Satan across the table by the foot at one point). Poor MC was so confused that they had to shout at them just to break up the fighting…

When asked what's gotten into their demons so suddenly, the brothers have only one response:

"WE LOVE YOU!!!" 

…. Eh? 

*MC.exe has crashed*

Back to square one, guys...

[6okuto]

— m3 found family moments

delivery for. . . @soupieluvs !

this was vry cute to think about thank u for the idea/req ^______^ if anything goes against canon it's because ^__^ I haven't touched LL in over a month and fictif is not currently installed on my phone ^__^ pls forgive me..plea

thinking about the first few group meetings with the m3 and how they didn't really know each other as well as they do now. how they gradually figured out each other's habits and mannerisms through many, Many weeks of training and learning

felix and anisa bringing sage back when he's spent a little too long at the tavern. the way he's a little louder or a little closer than usual and they both roll their eyes a little but smile as he tries to crack a joke or says something weirdly sappy. he might forget in the morning but they never do — even when he manages to really annoy them.

i don't doubt for a second they've stayed up together a bunch of times just... talking. about their pasts together or apart, what crazy thing happened last week, etc etc. and maybe they didn't stay up with this as the goal but man it's late and they're tired of working/reading and hey, wasn't it funny when that guy ran into the wall the other day?

sage and anisa Younger Sibling'ing felix. sage tells asks felix to do something and does the "i'm older than you, don't you know you should respect your elders" thing on him. felix says "so you are old, then?" he still probably goes and grabs what was asked but he makes sure to watch sage's processing "Wait." face before walking away

they so very rarely do chores together like grocery shopping. smth smth it can get loud and Disruptive for other people who complain or stare. sometimes though, it works out when they all know they have to stay (semi) focused/be fast and suddenly they all know each other's eating habits and what they're missing and being coordinated

shakes you around and makes you stare into my eyes. sage or anisa asking the other for help with their hair. i don't know what products sage uses he feels a litte 3-in-1 shampoo but his hair is so nice? why? anisa must know.

little moments like anisa going "have either of you seen my purse?" and sage and felix both asking "have you checked your pockets?" without blinking. or one of them making sure there aren't cucumbers in sage's food (unless it's for a prank). or felix finding a new book he's wanted on his desk with a little thank you note for his help on the last mission

or like,, the way they'd process the fact they even know those things. they say stuff like "we can't get that, felix doesn't like the texture" or "anisa wanted to try this, didn't she?" or "this is sage's favourite beer, not that one." and then they take a second to think about how much they know about the others. and it's like...wow ok.

the pranks...the silly scares and whatever else. jumping from behind a corner, throwing things across the room, ruining sage's current flirting mission by embarrassing him, drawing on each other's faces, impersonating each other during a game of charades, yelling and waking each other up for a job that is Definitely happening and Not Fake, How did you forget this was happening???

birthdays... :( little cakes and a little singing. little personal gifts and doing whatever the birthday person wants — maybe not easily or without a few pranks beforehand but hey,, what's family for. it's so important because there's no one else around to celebrate with and wow we really have and take care of each other and save each other's lives and orz

they know the signs of each other being upset and make sure to check in on them, reminding the person in question that hey,, we may not always get along and i know you're having a tough time,, but you aren't alone. and we care about you after all of it. we know you're not taking care of yourself please take this food it's your favourite

these three may not be super into hugs,, especially with each other but. maybe after a big win and celebration they wouldn't completely hate a group hug — you might even find them laughing and smiling at it. will they bring it up later? i wouldn't bet on it really but it's a bit of a core memory the first time it happens

[ryosmne]

Safe Place.

Yakuza! Nanami Kento x gn Reader

Hello everyone, this fic is in collaboration with my dear friend @sunfloweroranges you can read their fic here :D

I kind of changed my writing style for this one, I'm trying out different things so let me know how it goes, feedback is always welcome, that's all from me hope you have a good time reading 💜

Summary: You're clueless

Warnings: mentions of blood, mature themes, mentions of murder and head chopping, language, yandare Nanami if you squint.

Grocery shopping is never fun when you're alone, especially making your way back home in the cold winter months, it gets dark so early.

A slight twist of your gut had made you walk back home in a faster pace. Turning your head every couple of steps, you never saw anything, yet this feeling never left even when you got through the main entrance of your apartment complex.

The elevator was broken once more, and you were already out of breath from rushing back, as you took the first steps up, your next door neighbor, who looked way too scary for your own liking bumped your shoulder on his way down.

Jeez he's in a hurry today.

Mumbling a quick apology, even though he was the one that was at fault, you quickly found the strength to run up the stairs and lock yourself in. Some short of commotion was coming from outside the complex that you didn't really care to hear.

That pink haired guy, your neighbor, who was build like a damn door, always got himself in some short of trouble, hearing him yell profanities or even throwing punches was a far too often occurance.

Why did he have to live right next door?

It's safe to say you did the best to keep the hell away from him, not that he seemed to bother with you, neitherless he was fucking scary.

Kento was ten minutes late, he was never late, except for the days that he had to clean up someone's mess, the days someone underestimated the power he held or the days someone dared speak your name. He wouldn't even tell them 'dont you dare speak their name' or anything along those lines. There was no warning when it came to mentioning yo,u only taking immediate action.

Naturally you were in the dark about all of that, Kento -or Ken as you would often referred to him as- kept you far far away from the darkness of his world. That was his way of keeping you safe and at the same time having you as his personal way out of his work and in his defence he didn't completely lie about his employment. He was an investor, just a bit of a different stock market than what you had in mind.

As far as you knew, Nanami Kento was an extremely successful business man, he chalked up his tattoo covered body as just his preferred style, since he is this good at what he does, he likes to say that his work place doesn't give a damn about his ink covered skin and the expensive gifts that he always pressures you to accept are just another benefit of his high profile job.

"Darling, I hope you didn't start without me." Wrapping your arms around your extremely sweet boyfriend you left a small kiss on his lips watching as the corners tagged upwards in an equally sweet smile the moment your lips left his.

"Of course not Ken, it's Friday remember?" Fridays are the established date nights in, you and Kento cook and dine together. More often than not you end up slow dancing to some jazz, or with you laying on his chest Infront of the fireplace, listening to his heartbeat, talking about life while he strokes your hair until the dawn.

Tossing him an apron, after he -like the gentleman he is- tied yours, you got to work on today's dish: Chorizo carbonara.

"You're never late on Fridays, bad day at work?"

You spoke while slicing some papers.

"Yeah, the stocks are all over the place and it's getting me stressed, but it's our night darling, anything else isn't of importance."

Kento always found a way of distracting you when it came to talking about his day, he is always quite vague and when his palm rested on the small of your back gazing down at you with those adoring eyes, it's hard to keep focused on anything other than him.

"Why don't you tell me about your day love?"

He always asked you that, Kento is in awful need of the calm that the mundane life you live carries. He craves to feel that, he still loves the power he holds over people, the way the mare mention of his name makes others tremble in fear of what the man will do to them shall they not comply to his requests -more accurately orders-

"Thankfully work was pretty good today, I finished grocery shopping so we could cook, I got us that wine you really loved too. The neighbor is being weird again but that's not new, maybe moving out isn't a bad idea."

Everything was like music to Kento's ears untill that last sentence. You had mentioned moving out before, but Kento always found a way to convince you not to. The rent was good, this house is close to your work, he would always reason with you until you changed your mind. He never pushed too hard fearing that you'd suspect something, but you only smiled and ended up agreeing with him.

You see, unbeknownst to you, your weird neighbor is Nanami's most trusted man, he's protecting you twenty four hours a day, even as you walked up the stairs today he dealt with another threat that was headed right your way. No, you cannot move before you know everything, but Nanami can't bring himself to break your bubble, he loves you and you love him, the real him, he would never scare you by letting you take a peek at his point of view. Maybe he should run away with you afterall.

"He doesn't look that bad, love. I'm sure he wouldn't hurt a fly."

Nanami knew he was capable of a lot more than that but it was true, your neighbor was an ally and although he would hurt lots of people, you were on the list of people to be protected and Sukuna took his bosses orders very seriously.

"Besides, my love, anyone would have to get through me first before attempting to lay a finger on you."

With the way his lips moulded on yours and his velvety tone, how could you not believe every single word that just came out of his mouth. Kento would die before letting anything happen to you, that little statement helped bring you comfort.

"You must really love my house Ken, can you pass me the butter?"

The moment your back was turned, Kento let out a breath of relief. That little voice in his head he always pushed away yelled at him to tell you everything, he burried it in the back of his mind once more.

"Can you believe that? I swear she drives me insane- Ken are you listening to me?"

That was weird, Kento always gave you his full attention. Perhaps he was tired today.

"Yes darling, you were talking about that Satoru guy, the one who annoys you at work."

Yeah you were, but that was while you were still eating, about twenty minutes ago.

"Babe, you're tired, let's go to bed, we can pick up where we left off another time, you need to rest."

The habit of staying up all night on Fridays had really stuck, but sleeping when your partner clearly needed to, is very much on schedule although it rarely ever happened.

Getting up from the sofa, tagging at Kento's arm to follow you to the bedroom had Kento irritated at how concerned you grew for him. He still feels you're too good at times, all the time to be exact.

You only heard him sigh before he pulled you back on the sofa, having lost your balance in his sudden move, you landed on top of him.

"Stay with me a little longer my love, I'm sorry I spaced out, I'm all ears for you now."

Another invitation for you to just talk to him, he didn't care about what. Kento loved the tone of your voice, how it changed pitch depending on what emotion you held or what you were talking about. His voice was quite monotone, like everyone else's around him. He had to grow thick skin and throw away all short of feelings, but everything he locked away years ago came rushing back the moment he spilled coffee on you six months ago. You hadn't even complained about the burning sensation on your skin as he helped clean you up, you just gave Kento a smile telling him that everything was fine and these things happen.

In his world they don't, someone can breathe the wrong way and lose their head, all it took was your damn smile and that statement to get him to need something different than what he had. Kento never thought he missed a thing, he found out how wrong he was that very day.

Sometimes he wished he never took the time to help you out back then, but that was only because he didn't know that he'd put you through all this.

"So I'm just sat there in a staring contest over the last price of cake, I won but my eyes still feel a bit dry."

You laughed, Kento stared down at you with a fond smile, your head on his lap and your hands tangled in his, brushing his knuckles and examining every bit of his skin with such care, God you were beautiful all over.

While Kento's hands were very interesting a small detail in the cuff of his shirt got your stomach to drop.

"Ken, is that blood?"

He swore he cleaned up, he always cleaned up before coming back to you, he never missed a single splatter. Maybe rushing home after not one, but two people tried to harm you today put him on edge.

He had missed a single drop. He was absolutely disgusted that even that tiny part of someone who dared to say the name y/n out loud infront of him and even threatened your existence was anywhere near you.

"Sweetheart that's probably tomato sauce from cooking, thanks for pointing it out, you know I hate staining my clothes, I'll go change."

Your meal didn't contain tomato sauce.

Why was your gut telling you that something was off?

Kento seemed a bit tense tonight, was it just a bad day at work?

He never really conversed on his profession. The huge dragon that started from the back of his thigh, ended on his left shoulder covering his entire back was just his 'style'. You swore you heard him talk to the pink haired man who lived next door but he told you he was on the phone. Everything little bit of suspicious behaviour you had previously payed no mind to, came to you. On top of that what was his reason to lie about a drop of blood on his sleeve? He could've said it was a paper cut or something, Why did he lie?

Behind the bathroom door Kento only cursed at him self.

Why didn't he lie better?

[kuroosweakness]

birthday cake | suna rintarou  

in which u insist that suna makes a cake with you for his birthday. grocery shopping trip, him loving that bum of yours, fluff

a/n: not proof read :’) i really hope you like this hehe <3

word count: around 1.2k 

“but it’s your birthday today,” you plead, taking his hands in yours and looking at him with soft eyes. “you’ve ought to do something special.” 

suna looks up from his slumped posture with a small smile. you’ve already made it special enough. waking up to you everyday is enough to have his spirits soaring. suna never did much on his birthday, it’s only a regular 24 hour day just like every other day. but you made it special, like his birthday is more than just a day. 

“rin?” you snap him out of his thoughts. 

“hm.” he blinks and lifts his hands out of your hold, cupping your hands instead. “now what were you talking about?” 

your eyes glow. “cake! we can make a cake and light candles and i’ll sing and you’ll make a wish and we’ll both eat cake :)” 

suna tilts his head in interest. not interest in the cake, but interest in how adorable you look when you’re excited. “what type of cake?” 

“hmm,” you tap your finger in thought. “that’s up to you. it’s your birthday after all.” 

“let’s just go with a simple cake, yeah? i’ve never made one before.” suna says as he runs his finger up and down your palm.

“i saw this video about a simple chocolate and strawberry cake,” you excitedly say, pulling your hand away to dig into your pocket for your phone. “look look, we have most of the ingredients at home already :)” 

suna’s eyes goes to your phone, wanting to look as interested as possible for you. after a few seconds into the video, he points out, “but we don’t have strawberries or that....” he swirls a finger in the air. “...that chocolate powder thing” 

your shoulders slump, but before you can say anything, suna adds, “but we can always go to the store and get them.” 

~~~

“always gotta look at all the strawberries in the container,” suna mutters, lifting the clear container over his head to see the strawberries under. “that’s what my mom always said.” 

“...rin?” 

“yes?” 

“our shopping cart won’t move” 

suna looks down and sees you struggling to push the cart. you’re pushing with all your might but the cart isn’t moving even the slightest. a wheel must be stuck... 

“it...won’t move,” you sigh, giving it one last push. “it was working perfectly fine when we got it :/” 

suna sets the box of strawberries down and awkwardly stares at the cart. “...maybe we can get a new one? we’ll have to put this one back first...” 

you look up at him in question. “how’re we gonna put it back if it won’t move?” 

... suna blankly stares at the cart before giving you a lazy smile with a shrug. “i don’t know” 

~~~

“at least we got the strawberries and cocoa powder,” you laugh, hugging the groceries to your chest as you rush up the stairs to your shared apartment. your boyfriend follows behind, going up two stairs at a time. you want to point out that his hair is all over the place but decides against it. 

suna has one tote bag in one hand and one hand free, giving him the perfect opportunity to palm your butt as you go up the stairs ahead of him, which is exactly why you’re rushing up the stairs instead of walking. 

once you’ve reached your apartment floor, you wait for him to arrive and unlock the door since both of your hands are occupied. 

“rin, hurry and unlock the door,” you hastily say, panicking as the cocoa powder, sugar, and box of strawberries nearly slips out of your embrace. 

when suna finally reaches the last step, a soft chuckle slips out of his mouth. “i’ve got cha,” he hums, taking the box of strawberries with one hand. “a box of strawberries to hard to carry?” he teases. 

“that’s only because i was running up the stairs,” you quickly defend. suna smirks and slides the tote bag handle on his forearm while reaching into his pocket for the keys. with a jingle and a twist, the front door unlocks. he waits for you to step in and follows after, sliding his shoes off as he places the food on the counter. 

~~~

“first, we mix the eggs and sugar ...” you trail off, suddenly unsure of what to do even though it’s the first step. 

“i’ve got the eggs,” suna calls, lifting his arm up to show a handful of eggs. “how many do we need?” 

“two” 

“mm” 

~~~

“are you sure you didn’t add too much sugar?” suna asks, peeking over your shoulder as you mix the cake batter. 

“i put exactly what the recipe said,” you reply back, trying to not squirm under suna’s gaze. “i wonder how much mixing is enough mixing....”

suna gives you a small shrug and goes to organize the bowls and pans on the counter. 

~~~

“no need to make cake if i’ve got enough here,” he lowly chuckles, poking your right butt cheek with one finger. 

you fight off the smile urging to creep onto your face and frowns at him. “hands off” 

~~~

you sheepishly smile at him. suna’s eyes crinkles up in wonder. 

“icing cakes isn’t an easy job, is it?” 

you laugh as you try to smooth the top of the cake. “nope, definitely not. i wanted to make it like the picture but it’s a lot harder than it looks” 

“looks pretty good to me” 

“stop lying, it just looks like blobs” 

he laughs. “you’re right, it does. maybe we can use strawberries to cover it up?” 

~~~ 

“make a wish, make a wish!” you excited say, clapping your hands together as you urge your boyfriend to blow his candles out. suna looks at you with a goofy smile. you have an unbelievably cute smile on your face; he wonders if he should wish to see it more often. 

the cake is placed in front of him on the coffee table. you can see suna sitting criss-crossed with his hands in his lap...and also him looking at you weird. 

“rin? the candles are gonna go out if you don’t blow them out! :)” 

suna playfully rolls his eyes and softly blows at the candles. 

“wait- you didn’t even make a wish!” you protest. “you’re-” 

“but i did, i thought of one in my head before blowing it out...” 

you sink back on the floor in relief. the cake looks more delicious than it did a few minutes ago. 

“wanna tell me your wish?” you tease, eyebrows playfully raised. 

“no, not really.” he smiles and plucks a strawberry off the cake, waving for you to scooch closer so he can feed it to you. you take a huge bite and chews on the fruit, giving him a big thumbs-up to make sure he knows how good the strawberry is. 

suna stares at you intently before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.  he pulls back, smiles at how cute you look when you chew, and goes in for another kiss. 

he wishes with all his might that his next birthday will be just as great as this one. 

minus the shopping cart not working. explaining to the employee was way more embarrassing than he expected.

[behxafb]

25 DAYS OF HAIKYU!

Day 2- Sakusa; mall shopping

FLUFF, GN! reader, NOT PROOF READ, and home skillet lies thats abt it tho

“Omi, baby, love of my life, darling, germaphobe, sweet cakes whatever you want me to call u, please one picture then u can put the mask right back on. i swear it won’t kill you”

“…no”

y’all where arguing over taking a picture with the mall santa as a kind of gag card. all your idea obvious, however you wanted sakusa to take off his mask for it. it would shock y’all’s friends cause “how do you wear it even in the heat,”. so go put it simply you had one goal in mind. christmas shop. come out of there with everything you need for your family’s christmas and then some, and MANY copy’s of the picture of you sakusa and the smelliest mall santa you have ever laid your poor eyes upon.

“do you know how many kids have blown snot, peed, wiped boogers-“

“eh i group it in with the whole “blowing snot” act”

“Y/N IT doesn’t MATter. i’m not going anywhere near him. i can practically hear the cesspool of germs coming from him.” he shuddered at the mere thought.

“you can hold your breath. i’m not expecting you to touch him. ik just expecting you to stand there giving me that pretty omi-omi smile. and boom your done.” you smile.

“that’s it?” he knew what he was doing.

“yes. that’s all.” finally a little glimmer of hope. he may do it.

“too bad.”

you groan in annoyance cause y would he lead you on like that. “please. we have everything else. all i need is that picture for my christmas to be complete.”

“y/n, i love you but no. there is no way i’m going in there as a GROWN MAN and sitting in another persons lap WITH or with out my mask. since your done tho go ahead and go to the car i do have to grab one thing though.”

“who said i was done ?”

“i did. i’m ready to go. plus i’m asking you to go ahead cause i saw hinata and bokuto just walk in there,” he points to a shop “and i thought they had training today.”

you grumble something under your breath as you walk to the car. upset you didn’t get ur picture. happy with the haul. you even managed to get your bfs gifts while you where in there. however what you didn’t know is that he lied. there was no sight of hinata or bokuto anywhere. against his own being. he took that picture, and oh his face had said it all abt how he felt… sitting in another grown man’s lap cosplaying as a childrens fantasty character.

DAY 2 IS COMPLETE!!! also my last one somebody rbed it and it MADE MY WHOLE NIGHT!!! this one i did late so definitely not my best work i had a food project for spainish and i was cooking all day 😩😩. so if u have any suggestions or want to be tagged in anymore just tell me. :)