#pink!reader

[sweetsreverie]

König x pink! Reader? And his teammates just think that she's either made up, or playing a cruel joke on him

ahh i'm so happy to have pink!reader making an appearance again!! i've been having some writer's block with mwII and i think i've finally come out of it.

pairing: könig x pink!reader wc: 589

König’s teammates were convinced you weren’t real. He’s told them about you, your sweet demeanor and your sunshine personality, but they just didn’t believe that a big oaf like him could pull a woman like that. He was working with a team in the UK for the time being, and the two of you were staying in London.

“All right big man, so you’re tellin’ me that a brute like you has a girlfriend that’s basically… Barbie?” Soap asks König, and after a moment of thinking, he nods.

“To put it plainly… I suppose you could say that. Pink is her favorite color, she always smells like vanilla, and she’s a great cook- sometimes she packs lunch for me-” König begins to ramble, but he quickly stops himself.

At that, Gaz lets out a quiet laugh. “But you didn’t bring any today, man. Did she forget?” He jabs at König lightly, and the taller man lets out a quiet huff.

“I forgot to grab it on my way in today.” He mutters. He was needed at the base for some mission briefings and paperwork, and you had reminded him countless times that you packed him something. He’s a big guy… he needs to eat, okay? You always make sure of that.

Just as Soap was about to open his mouth to tease König some more, the door opens and there you stand, clad in some fitted pink pants, a white sweatshirt with My Melody on it, and some pink and white sneakers. Under his hood, König smiles. Your hair was down, and you looked so effortlessly beautiful.

“Hey baby- You forgot this at home, you know- it’s a nightmare to get in here.” You tell him as you approach, holding out a bag that contained his lunch. You smile while he takes the bag from you, and under the hood, you can see the crinkle in the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you, mein engel- I’m sorry you had to come all this way.” he apologizes softly, before he reaches forward and affectionately places his large hand on your cheek briefly.

“I’m happy to do it, love.” You say with a gentle smile, and then your turn to the two men that your boyfriend had been speaking with.

“Oh- um, Y/N, this is Soap and Gaz.” König introduces you, and you greet them with a smile and a little wave.

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Take care of him while you’re out there, alright?” You tell the two men, and the one with the mohawk, Soap, nods and gives you a thumbs-up.

“Of course, lass. We’ll bring your big guy home in one piece. Don’t you worry.” He assures you, and you give König a gentle smile before you lean up and kiss his cheek over his hood.

“Alright. Well… I’ll see you soon. You guys take care.” You tell the three men with a smile before you exit the room.

Soap and Gaz both look at König with raised eyebrows, and Soap shakes his head.

“I cannae believe you have a woman that wears hello kitty, big guy. I for sure thought you were making that up.” Soap tells him with a laugh.

“Actually- uh, that was My Melody. Not Hello Kitty. She’s Hello Kitty's best friend.” König corrects him before he reaches into the bag of goodies and pulls out an energy drink.

Soap just blinks at that while Gaz snorts and laughs, because they can’t believe that König corrected Soap on the sanrio characters.

[marsmaximoff]

🩷 squid game twitter links nsfw

content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.

author’s note: i’ve been seeing so many twitter links posts for different fandoms so i decided to do one for squid game. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. this was so much fun hehe. enjoy <3

want more? check out part 2❤️‍🔥

〇 salesman / recruiter tw: bdsm

he never makes love, he fucks, like he hates you

you better take it all

△ in-ho / frontman (001)

he gets so hard watching you play the games

relieving stress on his limousine

too big

□ thanos + nam-gyu (230 + 124)

they didn’t like your vote, they’ll change your mind

“see? you can’t vote x. staying here is way better”

〇 thanos (230)

he likes it rough

loves doggy

△ nam-gyu (124)

the way he talks is sooo namgyu, your throat around his cock + degradation? perfect combo

im telling you he has an obsession with your mouth

□ jun-ho / police officer

after a nightmare he had to make sure you were good

passionate and loving

taking care of you after a long day

〇 sang-woo (218)

you asked your hot professor for help, this is how it went :p

thinking about you

△ dae-ho (388)

he’s a MUNCH

matches your freak

□ min-su (125)

mommy kink going crazy

type of shit he deserves pt 1

pt 2

〇 myung-gi (333)

he’s an asshole

in a hurry

△ pink guards

being their favorite player <3

you literally have them wrapped around your little finger

[sunrisemill]

This is the prettiest he’s ever looked I SWEAR

And if you disagree…talk to the hand cause the face ain’t listening 🖐️😔

[pseudowho]

"Hey, Kento," you began, approaching him, thoughtful, while the shower warmed up in the background. Kento hummed in response, turning the page of his book.

"Darling?" Kento inquired.

"Have you ever noticed how...I don't know...convenient and...I dont know, I suppose how coincidental some details of your life are?" Kento caught your eye now, one thin eyebrow arched uncertainly.

"...what do you--"

"I mean," you interrupted, "your 7:3 thing. It's...it's everywhere. You part your hair in 7:3. Your inherent technique is 7:3. Your surname means 'seven-three'. I mean, jesus, your birthday is even--"

"--July the...3rd." Kento looked a little ill, closing his book and feeling his world close in around him. You headed to the shower, calling back; "Just a crazy random happenstance, I'm sure!"

You came out, some time later, to an abandoned book on the bed and Kento stood at the balcony, with an enormous whiskey in his hand and staring, haunted, into the distance.

"...Kento?"

Kento turned, face twisted with existential crisis; "I don't-- I've never-- ...am I an anime character or something?"

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy filming warrior (2011)

[peachsukii]

It’s a blessing, and a curse, to let someone else besides Bakugo drive the van on the annual bakusqaud road trip. Kirishima and Kaminari were too engrossed in their own conversation, never looking back at you two for long periods of time.

It was early afternoon, but car rides always make you sleepy. You thought curling up in your boyfriend’s lap in the back seat would be cute, peaceful, but no - this fucker couldn’t keep his hands off of you. For a grueling two hours, he was nothing but a tease, grinning like the devil over your squirming whenever he’d touch you. Bakugo played it off at first, gently running his fingers through your hair or rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone lovingly at your drowsy stupor. It escalated when your crop top rode up, exposing your bralette and tempting him. Thank god you were facing the back of the seat and not the boys up front.

It was subtle squeezes at first, “brushing” over your chest when he’d lay his hand on your ribs or move to rub your back. Bakugo would inch his fingers to your stomach, quietly shifting to cop a feel and act like nothing happened. When he saw your brows scrunch, he decided to push further, splaying his hand across your chest and teasingly slipping two fingers under the bralette to pinch your nipple, flicking and twisting it between his finger pads. His ego inflated when your legs twitched at his touch, a soft groan falling from your lips. It didn’t take long until he was practically using your tits as stress balls, his insatiable hunger for you taking over.

Bakugo didn’t even realize that Kirishima turned into a gas station to refuel and grab some snacks until the van was parked, too caught up in his game to notice.

“Need anything, bro?” He asks over his shoulder. “Kami and I are grabbing snacks, too.”

“Nah, we’re good. Gonna get out and stretch.”

Kirishima and Kaminari head into the store while the two of you exit the van and take a lap around the parking lot. That’s when you notice the bathroom on the side of the building, door propped open and no key needed.

Before he can stop you, you’ve got Bakugo by the collar and bolt for it, practically dragging him behind you. He’s yelling something along the lines of “what the fuck, woman?!” until you’re both inside the grimy one person bathroom, slamming the door behind you. You let go of his shirt and shove him into the rusty sink, pouncing on him like an animal.

“You think you can get away with all that, Katsuki?” You growl, emphasizing his name as a warning. “This is a fight you always lose.”

“Someone’s suddenly—” he tries to argue but the words die in his throat when your hand ferociously grips at his cock through his shorts. His face loses composure at the contact, flushing scarlet instantly.

“That’s what I thought.” You pause to bite his neck, pink teeth marks left in your wake. “You started this, babe. You’ve got two minutes, make it count.”

[tini5]

Rafe and his walking cotton candy cloud gf. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*────୨ৎ────°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, the soft pink cotton clinging to his toned chest, as she twirled in front of the mirror, holding up yet another pink dress. The entire room was awash in various shades of her favorite color: Pink. 

The flowers on the bedside table - the ones he got her, and the shoes scattered around the floor.

Rafe watched her, his eyes soft, a rare sight. "You really do love pink, don’t you?" he teased lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She spun around to face him, the dress in hand. "And you love me," she shot back, playfully sticking her tongue out.

He pushed off the doorframe and walked over to her, his arms easily sliding around her waist. “I do,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “And if wearing this ridiculous color means seeing that smile on your face, then I’ll wear it every day.”

Her smile widened, and she reached up to smooth the collar of his polo, her fingers lingering at the nape of his neck. “You look good in pink, you know. Brings out your eyes.”

His laugh was low and warm. “You say that about every color you make me wear.”

“Well, that’s because you look good in everything,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

Rafe deepened the kiss, one hand threading through her hair while the other rested at the small of her back, pulling her closer. 

When they finally pulled apart, she giggled, "Come on, wanna go to the country club, get the Cosmopolitan." she said, her voice dripping with excitement. 

Rafe groaned, his head tilting back in mock despair. “That pink drink again? You’re killing me, princess.”

She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You know you love it."

He sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Fine, but only because you asked.”

“Because you love me,” she corrected, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, that too,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her. “But don’t push it. You owe me after this.”

She just laughed, knowing full well that no matter how much he groaned, Rafe Cameron would do anything for his pink-loving princess.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

As a girl who LOVES pink, I had to write this. The new pictures have me in a chokehold!!!

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will...

Acting as the Frontman's PA, and having the Guard harem wrapped around your finger.

This part is:

PA Announcer

Musical Fan!reader

This will be a choose your adventure kind of thing where there will be multiple with jobs/specialties/interactions.

a/n: Hope you like Mamma Mia xoxo

Please don't hesitate to request!!

Walking a few steps behind the Frontman, peering through your silver mask and analysing the clipboard in your hands you updated your boss on the status of everything being prepared for the games.

Based on the grunts and scoffs he let out you crossed out and marked different items on the list. For a man of little words, he sure was good at communicating. After the large doors to the hall closed, you looked first to your boss then to the militia-like staff.

Handing over the checklist to the closest square, you nodded to your boss and turned to leave.

“Squares 1 through 16, Your men will be painting the halls. Squares 18 through 21, Your men will construct the bridge. Squares 22 and 23..." As you approached your office the front man's voice faded away.

There was a surprising amount of paper work for a company that strived to leave no traceable evidence, you supposed they needed to be completely aware of the crimes that the company had committed as to better cover their tracks. That being said, you would swear that the pile had grown since before breakfast.

So sitting down in your little office you pulled off your mask and began to sort through the first few files. After certain issues and unauthorised branches sprung up in the command structure of the previous year's games, you been given the tedious task of vetting all potential contestants.

The main rules were; no one with medical training, we cant have another spout of organ harvesting, no one with knowledge that could reduce or alter the difficulty of the games, aka no more glass guys, and so on and so forth for what seemed to be an unending and ever growing pile of filters.

You'd made it through half of the pile, removing a few of the contestants for their quote unquote leadership qualities, when an alarm chimed from your phone. Tugging forward the microphone you grabbed the notes from today's agenda, before crackling the speakers to life with the press of a button.

'It is now midday. Lunch will be available to grab under the sun for the next 90 minutes. Today's music choice is... mine and will be the entire Mamma Mia musical soundtrack followed by twenty minutes of me replaying my favourite songs.'

Pressing play on the album and turning off the microphone you opted to return to your work for the time being, only now there was the occasional humming along.

When a tapping came from your window you finally stopped, slipping your silvery mask back into place and tugging back the unnecessarily extravagant curtain you observed a single circle giving you a thumbs up.

Waving to him you stepped closer and peered to the side, down the hall stood a group grooving, and as you pressed your ear to the glass you could hear their voices singing along.

Sneaking your secure and very dumb brick of a phone out of your pocket you started to record, before noticing the circle was now waving for you to join them.

Deciding... screw it you leaned your phone against the sill and slipped out of the office to join the gaggle of guards. Only then did you notice just how loud the PA system was set to as the concrete under your feet vibrated with the music.

Dancing and singing along, the group seemed to grow as the album played on... until your boss' brash tone cracked over the system;

'Okay that's enough, go get your food.'

Oh yeah... lunch.

[puppy4vi]

nsfw!!

thinking abt dry humping on vi’s lap in a revealing miniskirt ;; with one of her hands on your waist to guide your movements, and her other hand keeping your mouth busy with her fingers -

her gaze focused on your lace panties peeking out of your tiny skirt as she grinds you on her lap, and eventually she gets riled up enough from the view to throw you down on the bed and have her way with you ♡

[ariadnes-elixirs]

thinking of an isekaied reader and a yandere noble boy...

(gn reader x male noble yandere)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

tw: manipulative behavior, thats about it though

you stared at the honeysuckles climbing alongside the fence near the outskirts of your family's garden. as you continue examining them, it occurs to you that they seem to take on a vine-like shape, wrapping and constricting the fence. in front of the vines there are two smaller shrubs, also presumably honeysuckles.

as you stand there awkwardly lost in thought, oliver begins speaking. he takes one step forward as his eyes shift between the shrub and the vines, "there are three types of honeysuckle: shrubs, bushes, and vines."

he takes a careful step between the two shrubs and strides towards the vines, reaching a gentle hand out and caressing a pale pink, almost white blossom in his fingers. "while their flowers are pretty, in some places they can be invasive. they can block out sunlight, making it impossible for other plants to grow."

he's standing in front of you, so it's hard to gauge his expression. his voice is calm and serene, almost reverent as he speaks about the flowers.

"the pale pink flowers on the vines are likely common honeysuckle vines. while the pink tubular flowers on the shrub indicate that those are likely tatarian honeysuckles."

he slowly turns away from the vines as your eyes focus on his hand caressing the flower. in one swift motion he uses his left hand to pluck it off the vine, then turns towards the shrub. he's still standing in the same spot, but as he turns you can finally see his face.

his expression is cold, almost apathetic as he looks at the flowers. with how he sounded you would have expected him to at least be smiling. his dark brown eyes quickly meet yours before he looks at the shrub. he crouches down, still holding the pale pink flower in his left hand. his right hand reaches out gently to a darker pink blossom belonging to the shrub.

"chances are, some gardener got careless and either decided to plant these because they didn't feel like planting something higher maintenance... or they simply," he rips the flower off, "didn't notice that an invasive flower slipped into the garden..."

as he holds the pale pink flower in his left hand and a dark pink flower in his right, he finally shifts his body to face you and meets your eyes. his expression shifts to a much softer one as he looks at you, "i don't know what happened to you, but what i do know is that you are definitely acting different."

your blood runs cold, surprised he decided to bring this up again. you stand there for a second, about to reply before he smiles gently at you, catching you off guard.

"i know you have been having trouble with your memory, my love." he says, "it just..."

"it makes me so sad when you look at me like that... like..." you notice his eyes look sad, almost like he's tearing up as he speaks, "when you look at me like you don't know who i am, or what we were, or how much i love you."

he moves his hands to yours, gently taking your left palm and bringing it between the two of you. then he slowly holds up the two flowers in each of his hands, "obviously this isn't your fault, but..." he pauses, "i don't want to make you hate me by going too far too fast."

"so, i wanted to ask," he moves the dark pink tatarian honeysuckle towards you, "do you wish to resume our relationship, as passionate yet secret lovers," he moves the pale pink common honeysuckle flower closer to you, "or do you want to start over, from the moment where i got down on my knees and told you how much i love you for the first time?"

he looks at you gently, waiting for you to take one of the flowers in your hand, "i don't want to overwhelm you, darling, but please..."

"i just can't live without your love any longer. please, love, even if you don't remember, won't you fall in love with me again?"

a/n: (this is the part where my indecisiveness starts showing)

anyways !! would you like to "resume the relationship", start over, or say no to both (secret option he's not gonna say but i will)

[sweetsreverie]

His Favorite Place

pairing: könig x pink!reader wc: 741 based off of this ask: "okay but now I need könig in pink!reader’s hyperfeminine room after he comes home from an assignment" note: könig calls reader hase, which means bunny in german.

When you got home from work in the afternoon, König had texted you and asked if he could come over after his PT. Of course you tell him to come over, and he replies with a heart emoji.

So a few hours later when you were sitting in bed reading a book, you heard him come into the apartment. You hear the door close, and the quiet thump of his bag hitting the floor before he pads over to your bedroom.

He smiles as he steps through the doorway, and you grin when he moves closer to you. Once he’s about to kneel and climb onto your bed, you squint up at him.

“Nuh uh, you need to shower first. You said you had PT? Yeah, I can smell it. And I just washed these sheets.” You tell him, and König pouts as he backs away from the bed.

“What, I thought you loved me?” He asks, and you laugh.

“I do love you, but I love you especially when you’re clean.” You tell him with a grin, and although he’s pouting, you can see his mouth turn up into a grin as he walks over to your bathroom.

König showers for ten minutes before he steps out and rubs a towel over his hair, then he wraps it around his waist before he walks back out to your room and opens one of his drawers in your dresser. He tugs on a pair of black briefs and some cotton Nike shorts before he tosses the towel into your laundry basket. He turns to you and raises his eyebrows, and you give him a smile and a satisfied nod.

He moves over to your bed and kneels on the edge before he drops down and lays on his stomach; his feet hang off the edge slightly. He buries his face in one of your pink pillows briefly, and he lets out a content sigh before he turns over onto his back.

“Better?” You ask him, and he nods.

“Your bed is much more comfortable, hase.” He tells you while he gets comfortable, and he tugs one of your throw blankets over his legs, though it barely covers him.

You grin at his admittance of your bed being more comfy while you tuck a bookmark in your book and set it to the side.

“Of course it is, because I have more than two pillows and one blanket on it.” You say with a grin, because König’s own bed was quite bare.

König can’t help the happy grin that rises to his lips, and he reaches behind his head to pluck one of your… many squishmallows from their pile in the corner of the bed, and hold it in his hands. He gives the plush a squeeze before he hugs it to his chest and closes his eyes.

“This one is my favorite. I like it’s little… thingies.” König murmurs, holding the purple octopus and playing with its little ‘tentacles’ between his fingers.      

All you can do is look down at him with a happy smile plastered on your face while he lays against your pink duvet and pillows.

“You do realize how funny you look like this, right? You’re a huge… mountain of a man that comes here just to lay in my bed.” You tell him, and he opens his eyes to look up at you with a tired smile on his face.

“I’m comfortable here, hase. Your space brings me peace.” He murmurs while he turns over on the bed, and he lays his head in your lap as you pick up the book you had been reading before he arrived.

The content smile that graces your lips never leaves as you open your book and continue reading, and after you tug the blanket up to cover König, you reach down to play with his hair with one hand while the other holds your book.

It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep against your plushies and blankets. Once you’re certain he’s asleep, you take a few pictures of him. 

As much as you enjoyed teasing him about his enjoyment of your hyper-feminine room, you were truly glad that he’s able to find peace in your space after coming home from work. In your room he isn’t the big battering ram that he’d been trained to be, instead, he’s just… König. 

He has no worries when he’s with you.

[marsmaximoff]

more.. more thanos twitter links.. I beg you

❤️‍🔥 squid game twitter links nsfw ²

content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.

author’s note: well well well, seems like y’all enjoyed PART 1!!, cause i got many requests for more hehe. and honestly, i’m more than happy to feed you. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. enjoy <3

〇 salesman (recruiter)

the funnier version of russian roulette

proving you he owns you now

△ inho (frontman) / sangwoo (218)

he’s thick

size kink through the roof

good girl

□ thanos (230)

this is the way he lets you ride him

he was feeling a bit softer

some car sex, why not

shhhhh

till you’re drooling

why were you dancing with those men?

〇 thanos + namgyu (230 + 124)

apologizing for voting x

△ namgyu (124)

me next who said that?

y’all im obsessed with his tattoos help

he’s got a crazy oral kink

softer days

make up sex

he’s such a tease

□ junho (police)

he’s so good to you

love language

〇 myunggi (333)

because he’ll never share you

△ pink guard

he’ll tell you what the next game is in return

□ gyeong-seok (246)

fav position?

lingerie kink

your pleasure’s his priority

deep and nice

〇 hyun-ju (120)

right after hearing you had a shitty day

you’ll be late to the dinner…

she lives for having you sit on her face

@stariou @unapersona0818 i hope they’re good enough and you enjoy them <3

[yandere-wishes]

｡ ₊°༺ Pink Pony Club ༻°₊ ｡

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆Yandere! Dr Phosphorus x Reader ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

⋆.𝄞𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓟𝓸𝓷𝔂 𝓒𝓵𝓾𝓫 𝓑𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓡𝓸𝓪𝓷𝄞˚.⋆

✮★✮ Oh Mama, I'm just having fun, on the stage in my heels it's where I belong, down at the Pink Pony Club, I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club. ✮★✮

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He lets the music roll over him, allowing the drums to melt over his flames and bleed into the marrow of his black bones. When you dance, you have to focus on the turn out of each step, on the wave of your arms, when to stiffen when to loosen. It makes it all so easy to forget the pain of being constantly on fire. To forget the melancholy that festers inside you. When the adrenaline is this high, you can only make out the strobing neon lights and the dazed amusement of the crowd.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ It's hard to hate the music and the lights, to shy away from a crowd so easily fascinated by the gleeful macabre. It's really the most sanity-inducing thing you can cling to when your body has turned into the thing you once loved. When you've become your research after watching your old self die in a furnace at the hands of those who once wielded all the power in the world. Funny how we make our own monsters, funny how the thing that kills us, is nothing more than the very man we once tried to kill, now engulfed by his own invention. Phosphorus spins, left leg, right leg, jump, and twirl.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The dancing, the music, the clapping, the lights, it's all so perfect for melting away the terrible things that slither inside him, to burn away all those good memories until the kill and the luxury are all the remains. It's getting just too easy to forget his son's face, to forget the smile his wife gave him on their wedding day.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's a moment between moments when the world seems to stop. It's only then that he notices you, or rather notices what you're wearing. It's the dress he thinks, pink like the mushroom clouds he'd once adored, like the sunset framing devastation. Or maybe it's the way you have your hair so cruelly tied. Tight circle above your head like an atom waiting to explode. In a flash it's over, someone is handing him a drink. Another sitting on his lap. And he's thrust harshly back into reality, back to a world of trying to forget.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus is and always will be a man of logic. A man of science. He lets his fingers glide over the stack of pristine hundred-dollar bills. To think he'd spent his whole life begging for a quarter of all of this. Begging for scraps of funding to save the lives of thousands. It had all been so important once. Still, he can't help but let his mind wonder, what could he build with all of this? What could he solve, discover, create? He tells his men to lock it up in the safe, he's not ready to go back to all of that just yet.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The next time Phosphorus sees you, he's half sunken into the plush couch of the VIP lounge. It's been a long day, a long tough day. Everything had gone wrong and all so right in the same breath. This time your dress is the shade of clouds marred by the blood of a dying sun. He should know this shade from the history books he'd used to read, the shade of skylines behind ancient temples. Back then he'd been trying to understand. Understand what he's not quite sure, he'd been so desperate to pry every little answer from the world. To chew their solutions, breaking them with his teeth and spitting out his own variation, his own thesis. He'd been so utterly convinced of his own intellect, convinced that reading Saadi at the same time as the latest research paper on Nuclear decay meant understanding the world.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He watched with staunch fascination as you tried to dance. Following your friend's steps, heels stepping awkwardly completely out of tune. You bend your knees, sinking to the floor. And Phosphorus can't think of any excuses for why his cheeks feel hotter than usual. Why his eyes are permanently affixed to the sway of your arms.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He thinks you look just like nuclear fission dancing in the limelight with your friends. Like you've split your own body to create them. Little atomic nucleus dancing under his microscope. You look perfect, your toned legs amplified by the radioactive pink of your heels. Long neck he'd love to kiss decorated with a thin string of gold. You don't look a thing like the other girls at the lounge, you look like an experiment beckoning him, seducing him into cutting you open, and observing how you explode.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's been following you keenly, trying to see what happens next. It's the fourth week in a row that he's forgotten about dancing for the crowd, about the girls who used to hang off his arms. He's too devoted to this experiment. "Nuclear scientist finds atomic bomb inside ancient temple from the bronze age". Phosphorus examines the sway of your hips, the bob of your head, and the crude kicks of your legs. There's something wrong with those heels, they're too thin, too high, inviting everyone to stare at you. But he's quick to shove them away, circling you from afar. He can't let anyone tamper with his experimentation. Certain matter performs differently when it knows it's being observed. So he allows the notion of invisibility, making you feel unobserved, safe in your own ignorance.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He hasn't felt this alive in years. This ecstasy tastes utterly sweet, pure saccharine. It's the same thrill as watching your particles stabilize after days of trying to find the right frequency. Watching them organize into the right motion. And isn't that what you are? An ionized atom. After all, what is dancing if not ionization, if not trying to lose a part of yourself you can no longer bear?

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's late tonight, rivals had somehow bled in and were after the safe from Phosphorus' newest heist. He'd burned them to a crisp and danced on their ashes until they flew away. But that doesn't change the fact that he's late, too late in fact. When he rushes through the door, men nervously run behind him. His eyeless sockets fall upon an uttermost dreary sight...

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The problem with people is that they never truly appreciate beauty. They treat it as if it's something to conquer something to tame. They never bother to understand it, to study it from afar whispering prayers of gratitude for bearing witness to this new discipline. The man's body is too close to yours, head following your lips, as you awkwardly try to sidestep. The moment you try to flee he grabs your wrist. You scream, no one ever hears screaming through the bass and the rhythm.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's smoke in your eyes, sickly-sweet honey in the back of your throat. It's all too acrid but at least the hand assaulting your wrist subsides. The thing in front of you glows green, an acidic neon green that feels too familiar in shade. You watch as the skeleton seizes your shoulders, such a warm touch hearthlike in every way. He pulls you closer till all you can smell is null and all you can feel is smothering warmth.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never quite quiver under his touch, never fully shy away when he cups your jaw and tilts your head. It's like you want the radiation, want to feel his nuclear essence bleeding into you. Maybe then you'll be whole. Maybe then neither of you will need the music, and the lights, and the crowd to feel whole.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never belonged in the clubs, it was painfully obvious you could never mold to their dances, their music. Your heels never fit right. Phosphorous knows he's been trying to do the very same for all so long. Neither of you needed to kill off your electrons, to throw them away to ignorant nobodies who would sooner hurt you for their own voracious motivations. "Give me your electrons and I'll give you mine." Phosphorus tucks your head into the crux of his shoulder, "I'll fuse with you so you'll never need anyone else."

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus' hands mirror yours, swaying overhead before falling lower like the cascade of a wave. Side step, side step, stop, and bend. He thinks this is better than any club, any choreography he could do by himself. He feels so whole dancing only for your eyes. He feels so happy having you dance only for his eyes. Your palms touch as you circle slowly. Dancing like the airy rotation of electrons. There's no more dancing at the Pink Pony Club.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ What do you call a dance that feels like merging two atoms? What do you call it when your heart feels like the denotation of a bomb? He presses his lips to yours slowly, feeling the nuclei crash, a nuclear reaction, his tongue hum between your teeth endeavoring to melt away your fear. His fingers, dance across your hips heating up, leaving burning hearts and hand prints, claiming you as his, making you death just like him.

Lost the request for this but thank you so so much to the sender!! 💞💋💞💋

[baeshijima]

imagine being a baker stationed in marmoreal market, okhema.

it has been a few months since you first started the business. as is with most, it was a slow start. in the beginning only few took interest, probably curious about the new the dessert shop popping up from seemingly nowhere. you’d garnered a loyal set of regulars, however, who always came for either something sweet to kickstart their day before work, or to treat themselves before they went back home.

in between those times? sparse. but you made it work… somehow.

what it did allow for, however, was the trial and error of new desserts! you can’t always be following the same recipes as everyone else; you have to put you and your craft out there!

…which brings you to now.

“so?” you prod, fiddling with the hem of your apron as you watch mydei chew a piece of the freshly baked golden honeycake. “how is it?”

having mydei in your shop is nothing new. he was the first to know about you wanting to open this shop in the first place, after all — back when you were an aspiring baker and he a runaway crown prince trying to find refuge for his people in okhema. despite his duties as a chrysos heir, he still manages to pop in every day when not away for a mission. how? well, you chalk it up to his sweet tooth and appointed position as your official taste tester.

a pleased hum escapes him; the soft clinks of cutlery rings out once more.

“i prefer your version of the golden honeycake compared to the traditional one,” he comments, taking another bite of the pancake. lifting his gaze to meet yours, a fork is outstretched towards you, a neatly cut square of the golden honeycake skewered on its prongs. “what made you want to change the recipe?”

“oh, that?” arms braced against the small two-person table, you lean towards the fork. a soft sweetness coats your tongue as you concoct a reply. “well, i wanted to make something you would like as a little thank you. you’ve supported me to pursue this dream for a while now. if it weren’t for you…” your voice tapers, eyes softening and lips spreading into an appreciative smile as you meet his slightly widened eyes. “if it weren’t for you, i doubt i would’ve had the courage to make it this far. so thank you, mydei, for being with me during this time.”

“it’s… it’s no problem.” mydei responds after a brief silence, the words briefly interrupted by a swift clearing of his throat as he glances away. “think nothing of it.”

save for your pleased hums, idle comments on new recipes you want to try, and the bustle of marmoreal market just beyond the walls, tranquility befalls your space.

when mydei calls out your name, you halt at the unusually resolute tone. “your efforts will come to fruition. i will make sure of that.”

---

well. sure enough, his words came true. the sight of the shop filled with customers and the long queue trickling into marmoreal market is evident proof of that.

when faced with the sudden influx of customers just two weeks ago, you thought it might’ve been a hallucination concocted by zagreus themself to torment you.

it was only after the thirteenth order of golden honeycake did you start to suspect zagreus wouldn’t waste their time on such a trivial matter on a speck of dust such as yourself. the real nail in the coffin was when you overheard some rather telling chatter between two ladies.

“wow! this modified version of the golden honeycake really is amazing! no wonder crown prince mydeimos loves it!”

“i wonder how they managed to get him to promote it…”

…if you knew having mydei say a few good words about your baked goods would boost your sales exponentially, you would have asked if he wanted to be a part-timer back when you first opened! looking at his withering stare and rather prominent frown as he waits for you to finish your closing shift, however, has you rethinking the choice.

(well, even with him being a prude, mydei would still undeniably draw in customers, so maybe asking him wouldn’t do any harm…)

unbeknownst to you, mydei’s down-trodden mood has to do with the very customers you’re trying to draw in. maybe if he wasn’t so weak to your dismayed gaze and kicked puppy demeanour when a less than satisfactory number of customers came into the shop every now and then, he wouldn’t be feeling so neglected by the attention you’re giving to the crowds of customers now barging their way into your shop.

a subtle grimace flashed across his features. what are they, a bunch of starving dogs fighting to get their meals? don’t they know basic manners? etiquette?

seriously, just until recently it was always quiet in the mornings. it was always just you baking and getting the store ready, and him watching you do your craft, helping out wherever he could — namely in taste-testing said baked goods.

in spite of the part of himself which regrets spreading the word of your talents and having them hog all your attention, the larger part of himself knows you deserve all of this at the very least.

he has witnessed your dedication and continuous efforts to make this dream of yours come true throughout the years you’ve known each other, and it certainly would be no lie if he said you’d weasled your way into his heart. from that day you’d offered him and his people baked goods and drinks upon their arrival in okhema, mydei should have known there would be no escape from seeking you out, ultimately causing this all-consuming fondness for you to grow by the day.

leaning back with a heavy sigh, mydei glances over at the counter where you’re still hard at work. really, your closing hours are soon. should he perhaps stand menacingly at your side to shoo away the customers? no, maybe just directly making them leave would be the most efficient. and—

a torrent of warmth engulfs him, clinging to his skin. mouth slightly agape, he can only gaze wordlessly at your joyful interactions.

…perhaps a few more customers would do no harm. just a few, though.

(curse that heart-melting smile of yours. it truly is the bane of his existence.)

[eternalguk]

Pink Hearts & Black Clouds || jjk. — 01

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : 3.8K

↠ Warnings : swearing, making out, teasing, exhibitionism (sex in a lecture theatre), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, slight dumbification, dirty talk, begging, oral sex (m. receiving), ass smacking, scratching, dom!jungkook x sub!reader, use of pet names, sex on a desk (he hits it from the back at one point), a very moody but flirtatious Jungkook paired with bimbo!oc deserves its own warning :) - I think that’s about it?

↠ A/n : Hi there ; here it is! Chapter 01 of my first series, ‘pink hearts and black clouds’ which I am so excited to share. This story means a lot to me as it explores two completely different personalities finding their way together. With bimbo, sunshine!reader and grunge, grumpy!jk, I hope you enjoy exploring this world as much as I loved creating it. It’s messy, it’s fun, it’s emotional, it’s steamy (at times 👀) and it’s absolutely everything I could ask for! I’d love to hear what you think - your reactions, favourite part, or even anything you’d like to see from them in the future! Feedback / comments are always appreciated. Thank you for giving my story a chance & happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

❧ Chapter 01 : Lipgloss & Leather

prev. || next  || series masterlist || masterlist

A stream of light filters through the wooden, venetian blinds of the lecture theatre windows, slicing through the warm, cinnamon-scented air.

God bless Ms. Choi for her diffusers.

The ambience of the empty theatre is a sharp contrast to the wintry chill that is dancing around outside. The time of season where it bites at your cheeks and refuses to let go. Inside though, the warmth feels like a holiday cocoon, the kind that makes you shed layers and forget the frost clinging to the world beyond your surrounding.

Unfortunately, despite the serene atmosphere, you don’t feel any less distracted.

You are perched in a chair at the back of the theatre, mindlessly playing with your pink glitter gel pen while Jungkook sits on the desk in front of you, legs spread arrogantly, one boot perched on the seat beside yours. The light catches on the silver chain hanging from his neck, a stark contrast to his black t-shirt and ripped dry-denim jeans.

You should be focusing on taking notes for the upcoming midterm, like he told you to do, but instead, your eyes keep wandering back to the powerful man in front of you.

Powerful because he consumes your entire being.

You pout as you swirl a strand of your hair around your finger, oblivious to the smirk curling on Jungkook’s lips as he catches onto your little daydream.

“Not taking notes, princess?” he asks, tone dripping with mockery.

“Erm…” you blink at him, momentarily caught off guard. “I was… thinking?”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Thinking. Right. About the syllabus or about how good I look right now?”

Your cheeks flame as he leans forward, chin propped lazily on his tattooed hand. His dark hair falls messily over his face, making him look even more impossibly cocky.

“Both?” you meekly offer, putting down the glitter pen and propping your chin onto your soft hands.

His grin stretches wider. “You’re cute when you lie.”

You smile at the compliment as Jungkook reaches out and grabs the gel pen from the desk, inspecting it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. The sight of his tattooed fingers gripping the sparkly pink plastic makes your heart race.

“Why do you even need this?” he teases, holding the pen just out of reach when you try to grab it back. “It’s ugly, you definitely don’t use it to write anything down and it’s pink.”

Jungkook grimaces, observing the pen as though it’s a foreign object.

You huff and pout harder, crossing your arms. “You said you’d help me study, but all you’re doing is being mean!”

“Mean?” Jungkook cackles, the sound low and gravelly. “Doll, I’m just keeping it real. Someone has to be with you.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!” you whine, trying again to snatch the pen, but Jungkook is faster. He swiftly moves it behind his back, staring you down with his usual, conceited smirk.

“And yet, here you are. With me.”

“Because you don’t let me leave,” you shoot back, a small huff escaping as you try your best to appear annoyed.

But you aren’t. Not even a little bit.

Especially when Jungkook leans in even closer, his dark eyes scanning your face like he is trying to memorise every detail.

“C’mere,” he says softly, contrasting his suddenly serious expression.

You blink up at him, your heart fluttering. “Why?”

“Just come here, doll. Trust me.”

You hesitate for half a second before leaning forward, and that is all the invitation Jungkook needs to grab your chair and yank you forward, placing you between his legs. Your breath hitches as he cups your face in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“You’re too fucking pretty, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice so low and intimate that it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Jungkook…” You trail off, feeling utterly flustered and ridiculously warm under his intense gaze.

“What?” he questions, cocking his head playfully. “You don’t like compliments? Want me to call you dumb instead? You like that, huh?”

“N-no!” you stutter, and the way he leans in closer makes your head spin.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk, brushing his nose against yours. “My good girl likes being told she’s pretty.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as his lips find yours, the kiss starting soft but quickly turning hungrier. Jungkook kicks your chair back before tugging you impossibly closer, his hands sliding down to your waist.

“Fuck, you taste sweet,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Strawberry lip gloss,” you utter, still fairly dazed.

He hums appreciatively, a smile now evident on his face. “My favourite.”

Jungkook’s hands slides lower, squeezing your hips as he deepens the kiss. You moan softly when he nips at your bottom lip, his pierced tongue sweeping over it a second later.

The sound of the theatre door creaking open in the distance makes you freeze.

The wind.

“Jungkook!” you hiss, pulling back slightly. “What if someone comes in?”

Jungkook grins, completely unbothered. “Free show?”

“You’re impossible!”

“You love it,” he teases, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. His hands tug at the hem of your short pink skirt, hiking it up higher as his fingers toy with the edge of your lace underwear.

“Ahh, is this the pair I got you the other day?”

“Jungkook…” you mewl, voice barely above a whisper. You manage a quick nod, before falling to rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“My doll is always so needy,” he grumbles, his dark eyes locking with yours. “But I don’t mind.”

Jungkook continues to fiddle with your underwear, his hand slipping inside to cup your now soaked sex in his rough hands. “Nice and wet.”

You squirm in his grasp, your cheeks burning as he presses another kiss to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin until you gasp.

“Relax, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

And with that, you give in - like you always do with your lover boy.

“Get on the desk.”

Your heart races as you turn toward the heavy, wooden desk behind you. It feels cold beneath your palms as you hoist yourself up, the sound of your skirt rustling loud in the quiet space. Jungkook watches you intently, his eyes darkening as you settle onto the surface, your legs dangling over the edge.

He steps closer, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your skirt higher.

“Look at you,” Jungkook whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

You shiver, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as his fingers trace patterns on your skin. Jungkook’s touch feels electric, sending sparks shooting through your veins.

“J-Jungkook—” you stutter, your voice shaky.

“Shh,” he interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

Your boyfriend's words send a wave of warmth washing over you, and you let your body sink into the desk as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck. You feel the stubble on his jaw brushing against your skin, the faint scent of his woody cologne filling your senses.

“The way you give in,” he begins, his lips grazing your ear, “is fucking beautiful.”

A soft whimper escapes your glossy lips as his hands move higher, pushing your skirt up to your waist. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and you gasp as he tugs them down, leaving you exposed.

Jungkook is quick to toss them onto his discarded leather jacket draped over the chair beside him. The delicate blush of your pink panties against the rugged, worn leather is a stark contrast that sends your mind spiraling.

“Stunning,” he utters to himself, eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that quickens your pulse.

Why the fuck is this man so hot?

You squirm, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Jungkook doesn’t give you time to think. Not that there was much going on up there anyway.

His hands grips your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. He wraps your delicate legs around him, engulfing you in his embrace.

“As beautiful as you look like this,” Jungkook mutters, caressing your cheek, “I need you on your knees.”

You’re quick to comply, gently shoving Jungkook away. He cackles at your eagerness, but deep inside his brooding heart, he feels at awe.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, quick to change personas, voice rough with desire.

Again, you obey without hesitation, your lips parting as he unzips his jeans. His cock springs free, already hard and straining, and your eyes widen as he steps closer, the tip brushing against your lips.

“Suck,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You hesitate for only a second before leaning forward, taking him into your mouth. His taste is salty and masculine, making you moan softly as you begin to move your tongue, your lips wrapping tightly around his girthy member.

Jungkook groans, his hand tangling in your hair as he guides your head up and down. “That’s it, doll,” he encourages, his voice thick with pleasure. “Take all of me.”

You sink deeper, gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t stop, determined to please him.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook effortlessly praises, his grip tightening in your hair. “You were fucking made for this.”

The words send a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder.

“Fuck,” he curses, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “I’ll be painting your face with cum if you keep that up.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Isn’t that what you like?”

Jungkook chuckles darkly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Not yet, baby. I have other plans for you first.”

Before you can even think of a response, Jungkook pulls you off the floor, spinning you around so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts through your satin blouse as he nips at your earlobe.

“You’re turn, princess,” he whispers, voice sending shivers down your spine for the umpteenth time this afternoon.

You gasp as his cold fingers find their way between your legs, exploring your already soaked folds. He teases you mercilessly, touch light yet maddening enough that it has you writhing in his bulky arms.

“Please,” you beg, voice trembling with need.

You try to grind against him, but Jungkook’s firm grip stops you from doing so.

“Please what?” he taunts, feigning confusion, breath hot against your neck.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, the words spilling out effortlessly.

Jungkook grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “What my pretty doll wants, my pretty doll gets.”

In one swift motion, he lifts you onto the desk, positioning himself between your legs. Jungkook’s cock presses against your entrance, and you yelp as he thrusts into you in one smooth, powerful movement.

”God, why are you so tight?” Jungkook groans, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to move. “I fucked you this morning.”

The sensation, along with the reminder of your earlier shenanigans, is overwhelming and both the stretch and burn send waves of pleasure through you.

You wrap your legs around Jungkook’s slim waist, urging him deeper as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Harder,” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “More.”

Jungkook obliges, slamming into you with a force that has the desk rocking against the floor. The sound echoes through the lecture theatre, mingling with your desperate moans and his guttural grunts.

“Could fuck this cunt all day,” Jungkook growls, his pace increasing as he mercilessly hammers his thick cock into you.

You cling to him, body trembling on the edge of release. But just as you’re about to let go, Jungkook pulls out, leaving you gasping and empty.

“No!” you cry, your eyes snapping open to meet his smug grin.

“Not yet,” he warns, voice firm. “You’re not cumming until I say so.”

You whimper, your body aching with need, but Jungkook isn’t done. He flips you over onto your stomach, hoisting your hips up so your ass is in the air.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice muffled by the desk.

“Giving you what you wanted,” he replies casually, his hands spreading your cheeks apart.

And then Jungkook is inside you again, filling you completely as he drives into you with a ferocity that leaves you utterly breathless.

Your sopping pussy lewdly squelches around Jungkook, completely soaking him. The sound turns the pair of you on further.

“Right there!” You mewl, pushing yourself back onto Jungkook, the pressure making you moan uncontrollably.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough with exertion. “Tell me who fucks you this good.”

“Y-you,” you stutter, your voice breaking as he hits your g-spot deep inside you. “This drenched pussy is yours.”

“And who do you belong to?” Your boyfriend growls, his hand coming down on your plump ass with a sharp smack.

“I’m yours!” you cry, the pain mixing with pleasure in the most delicious way. “Love the way you fuck me.”

Jungkook smirks, his pace slowing as he leans over you, lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl. Now come for me.”

As soon as the words leave his filthy mouth, your body convulses, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as you come undone. Jungkook isn’t far behind, his own release hitting him with a force that leaves him trembling.

The feeling of his cum oozing into you has you wanting to turn around and ride the fuck out of your lover boy.

Jungkook collapses on top of you, his breath hot against your skin as you both struggle to catch your breath.

“You okay, doll?” he asks, his voice softening as he turns you around and carefully seats you on the desk.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah. I’m- wow.”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing.”

“And you, Bakugo,” you reply, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Your lover boy grins, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “Round two after lunch?”

The cafeteria hums with energy, alive with the noise of lively chatter and the sporadic clatter of trays hitting tables.

You’re perched on the bench beside Jungkook, a tray of half-eaten chips and an unopened can of Samjin Mango Soda sitting in front of you.

Across the table, Taehyung and Jimin are engaged in a heated debate about Haikyu, their hands waving dramatically as they try to outtalk each other about the anime the two of them are currently rewatching.

Well, truthfully speaking, all of you have been rewatching, but only the two of them are so deeply interested. Maybe Jungkook, but he’d never admit it.

Speaking of Jungkook, he is slouched against the table, one elbow propped up as his thumb scrolls lazily through your phone, staring at pictures you had taken of yourself today.

And he says he isn’t obsessed.

As usual, he hasn’t said much, just the occasional grunt when someone asks him a question. He looks effortlessly intimidating, his black hoodie (that you finally returned) pulled low over his forehead, his iconic silver chain around his neck catching the light and his usual scowl that is always imprinted on his beautiful face.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more of a contrast. You’re in your own world, a makeshift beauty station spread out in front of you, next to yours and Jungkook’s shared meal. Your compact mirror is propped against the soda can, brushes and glosses neatly scattered around it.

A soft pout forms on your lips as you reapply a coat of your signature lip gloss, the sticky sheen glistening in the light. You’re blissfully focused, tilting your head to inspect your work like an artist perfecting their masterpiece.

“You’re so wrong,” Jimin says, leaning forward with a look of betrayal. “There’s no way Seijoh vs. Karasuno is better than Shiratorizawa vs. Karasuno.”

“It’s about the emotional stakes, Jimin,” Taehyung replies, sipping his iced tea as though he is a certified anime critic. “Oikawa’s genius mind versus Kageyama’s raw talent? That’s art.”

“Art?” Jimin scoffs. “Bro, real art is Ushijima annihilating them with a spike.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Oikawa’s smugness had more impact than any spike ever could.”

“Who’s Kageyama again?” you pipe up, tilting your head.

Jungkook’s phone, well your phone, lowers an inch as he glances at you, his expression blank. “You can’t be serious. We literally watched an episode yesterday.”

You shrug, completely unbothered by the disbelief in his tone. “I don’t remember the boring ones.”

Jimin nearly chokes on his drink, eyes wide in horror. “Boring?! He’s literally the King of the Court!”

“Don’t,” Jungkook says flatly, cutting off Jimin’s impending rant. “She’ll just start listing the hot ones.”

You grin, batting your lashes at him. “Is that a problem, Koo?”

Taehyung leans back in his seat, smirking. “You’ve got your hands full, don’t you, Koo?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Jungkook mutters, though his ears tinge pink. “And don’t fucking call me that.”

Taehyung catches it immediately, raising his brows. “Is that a blush I see, Jungkook? The same guy who nearly broke someone’s nose in basketball last week?”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook grumbles, sliding your phone over to you.

“Bro, you’re whipped,” Jimin adds, his laugh practically echoing across the room.

“No I’m not-”

“You are,” Taehyung interrupts, pointing a chip at him. “It’s so obvious. You’ve got that whole, ‘don’t fucking talk to me’ thing going on, but this one over here bats her fake lashes and you’re folding fast.”

“Hey! They’re real,” you protest, leaning forward and resting your chin in your palms.

You study Jungkook with a teasing smile. “Is that true? Am I your kryptonite?”

His eyes flick to yours, dark and unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something - amusement, maybe, or fond exasperation. Jungkook simply doesn’t answer, just grabbing a chip from the tray and popping it into his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say, your smile widening.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. He leans back in his seat, stretching his long legs out under the table, and you notice the way his fingers tap rhythmically against his knee. He looks relaxed, but you know him well enough to recognise the effort it takes to hold back a snarky comment.

“He doesn’t even deny it,” Jimin continues, grinning like he’s won something. “You know what? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you’re good for him.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, though his tone is far more mischievous. “You’re like the sunshine to his thundercloud.”

“Lipgloss to his cigarette,” Jimin chimes in.

“Or the idiot to his genius,” Jungkook finishes off, his voice dry as ever.

You gasp, smacking his muscular arm lightly. “I’ll have you know I’m very smart!”

“Name the capital of the United States,” he challenges, barely hiding the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Easy,” you say confidently, shrugging your shoulders. “Hollywood.”

Taehyung and Jimin dissolve into laughter, and even Jungkook can’t hold back the small shake of his shoulders.

“Christ,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

You pout, confused why the boys are laughing. But, the sight of Jungkook joining in with them has you leaning into his side, grinning up at him. “You still like me, right?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but his hand moves to casually rest against the small of your back, his fingers caressing the exposed skin.

And that?

That’s the only answer you need.

You busy yourself with dabbing some extra Dior blush onto your cheeks, the sunlight streaming through the window catching the shimmer within it. Jimin plays with your Ilia mascara, shaking his head as he takes in the rest of your makeup that is scattered around.

Taehyung sees that you’re occupied and smirks, leaning closer to Jungkook. “You defo love it, you’re just too much of a moody shit to admit it.”

“Love what?” Jungkook asks, deadpan, though the tightening of his jaw gives him away.

“Having someone fuss over you,” his best friend teases, motioning his thumb towards you with a grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, looking down at the now empty takeaway container in front of him like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “You have nothing better to talk about?”

Your eyes dart to him, catching the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck.

Smiling to yourself, you lean your chin on your palm. “It’s okay, Jungkookie,” you coo softly. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

He glares at you, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” you ask, pouting in innocence. “You love it when I call you that.”

Taehyung and Jimin burst into laughter once again at your audacity.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at them before turning to you. For a split second, his fingers twitch on the table, like he’s about to pull you closer. His gaze softens as it lingers on you - like he’s on autopilot, already halfway to pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

But then he stops.

Clearing his throat, he leans back in his chair instead, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head like armour. “You’re insufferable and annoying.”

You blink, caught between surprise and amusement. “You almost- you almost did it!”

“What?” he grunts, refusing to look at you.

“You were going to kiss my head.” Your voice is laced with a playful lilt, but there’s a flicker of something tender beneath it. “Don’t worry, Kookie. Next time, you’ll follow through.”

His tongue pokes against his cheek, a telltale sign of his rising frustration - or embarrassment, you can’t quite tell. “Shut up and eat,” he mutters, tugging his hood lower before he shoves a packet of crisps your way.

Jimin and Taehyung howl in laughter, and you can’t help but join them, even as Jungkook mumbles curses under his breath.

Somewhere beneath the gruffness, there’s the faintest quirk of his lips - a fleeting smile that only you seem to notice.

And in small moments like this you conclude that while Jungkook doesn’t give you flowers or grace you with love letters, he gives you something that is endless - pieces of himself: his time, his trust, his unwavering presence, and a love so consuming it feels like forever.

And there we have it! Please do let me know your thoughts ; the support I receive means the world to me 🫶🏻

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[vanillarosekiss]

just a cute fluffy situation with you and Si… ‎♡

“You keep looking at me like that, love,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, “and I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

Your heart raced slightly as Simon crossed the room, each step deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His gloved hand brushed against your cheek, rough but careful, before slipping down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. He was always Simon around you, but you would sometimes see parts of Ghost peek through his rigid exterior at times.

“Simon,” you breathed, but whatever you were going to say was lost when his lips claimed yours—fierce and unyielding. The world outside disappeared, leaving just the warmth of his body and the way he whispered your name like a promise between kisses to keep you company.

His hands roamed, steady but purposeful, mapping every curve like he was committing you to memory. Simon wasn’t a man of excess words, but his actions spoke volumes—the way his fingertips traced your spine, the way he pressed his forehead to yours between kisses, as though grounding himself in your presence. He found it difficult to push away the brutal thoughts of killing people when he wasn’t deployed, struggling to clear his mind.

“You’re the only thing that makes sense, you know that?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. It was rare to hear him like this, but when he let the walls down, it was for you and only you.

You smiled, running your fingers through his short-cropped hair, feeling the tension melt from his shoulders under your touch. “I’m not going anywhere, Si,” you whispered gently. “You’ve got me. Always.”