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secretlovezz · 2 days ago

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Your Muse

Eddie Munson x Artist!reader

Summary: Eddie finds out what the little secret you’ve been hiding in your sketchbook is.

Warnings: Just fluff I think

Wordcount: 2,332

Eddie knows that you love to draw.

Since the day he met you, you have always had a pen or pencil in hand, doodling whenever the opportunity presented itself. Worksheets, no matter the class, filled to the brim with messy sketches of whatever came to your mind. Palms covered in hearts and flowers from when you got bored listening to your teachers' lessons. But most of the time you would dig into your backpack to retrieve the mysterious little black book that you spent most of your time drawing in.

It was a thing that you never let anyone look at what filled the pages of your sketchbook, not even Eddie had seen the inside of it, and as your best friend he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about what exactly you were hiding. On more than one occasion, though he hates to admit it, he had thought about taking a peek at the, what he presumed were promiscuous, pages of art you spent so much of your precious time working on but the thought alone made him feel an inkling of guilt that he just couldn't get passed.

“What are you drawin’ this time, huh?” Eddie’s question ends in a prolonged yawn; he’s laid back comfortably in your bed trying to take a nap but the scratch of your pencil against rough paper keeps his curiosity piqued enough to overcome his exhaustion from school for the time being. He stretches like a cat along the length of your bed and his feet dangle off the edge, toes wiggling after being still for so long.

You're sitting at your desk hunched over in a way Eddie is sure must be uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows his posture isn't much better. He tries to glance over the top of your shoulder for a chance to see what exactly your drawing but he wasn’t nearly quiet enough because you’re quick to shut the book before his eyes can even break over the hill of your shoulder and all he can do is grunt in annoyance in correspondence to your secrecy. A deep rumble releases from the depth of his chest before he roughly plants his face into your pillow. The smell of your shampoo is enough to make him forget his previous irritation.

Spinning in your chair to face him you smile in amusement, “Why are you so nosey? Wayne didn’t teach you to mind your manners or somethin’?” You're teasing him and he knows it, he lifts his hand just enough to flash you his middle finger and the melody of the giggle you let out in response to his antics makes the beat of his heart accelerate to an alarming rhythm and his stomach flutter with the most vicious of butterflies. He's never been more grateful for a pillow because he’s sure that the heat that’s spreading along the skin of his face is causing his cheeks to redden an embarrassing amount. He can’t believe that just the sound of your laugh has him practically falling to your feet in absolute devotion. He turns his head to glare at you but finds that the glowing smile stretched along your lips, lifting the apple of your cheek which further rounds your face, has his own face softening into a gentle grin that almost matches the brightness of yours.

Eddie continues to look at you even as you turn away to gently guide your fingers along the worn leather of your sketchbook, there is a look of uncertainty that flashes in your eyes and if Eddie wasn’t paying close attention to you like he always does he wouldn’t have noticed. He makes an effort to change the subject, “We should order in some pizza or something, I’m fuckin’ starving.”

“Aren’t you always?” Eddie swats your thigh just barley from how you spin your chair to avoid his hand, grumbling words you assume to be comebacks.

You laugh again and despite your previous comment you get up to make the call for your usual pizza with no argument, somewhat of a tradition when Eddie comes over, and dig into the bag Eddie had haphazardly tossed on the foot of your bed when he first got to your place for his wallet; you paid last time so it’s his turn.

The door to your room creaks almost eerily when you open it to step out and creaks again when you close it; he hates that sound. For a while Eddie doesn’t move, just lays comfortable listening to the faint sound of your voice in the kitchen as you order the food. Eddie wishes you had made the call closer so he can hear the sound of your honeyed voice even if it wasn’t aimed at him.

He looks around your room regardless of the fact that he’s been in there more than his own room as of late. His probing eyes find their way to your desk and on your desk, just as you had left it only moments ago, is the little black sketchbook he was always so curious about.

It was wrong, his desire to grab it so he could selfishly get a glimpse of something that was absolutely none of his business. It was a breach of privacy but he had never had such an opportunity, the book was almost always in your line of sight never fully giving someone the chance to open it. He looks at the door, ears straining to see if you were on your way back to the room, but he hears nothing and so, with shaky hands, he stretches his arm across the gap between your bed and the desk and gently grabs the book. The guilt pours in almost immediately and he sighs in frustration. In truth he doesn’t know why he’s so adament on finding out what’s in it, he guesses that maybe he doesn’t like that you feel the need to hide something from him- or maybe he was just greedy, wanting to know everything there was to know about you so that he may keep you closer to his heart more than you were to anyone else's-, he was pretty sure you trusted him he just wasn’t sure why you didn’t with this.

You’ve had no problem letting him have his quick glances at other drawings; the little butterflies you’d draw with precision along the lining of homework, or the randomly drawn eyes in between sections of your notes, why was this so different?

Eddie sighs once more before placing the book back onto your desk, taking care to place just as it was.

The door opens just as Eddie lays back down and his heart almost bursts out of his chest at how quickly you did it. He still feels that sliver of guilt when you move to giddily plop yourself beside him, letting your fingernails rub at his scalp and rake through the tangles in his unruly hair with a pretty little grin sat perfectly etched into your face. He face plants into the pillow again.

“I almost looked through your sketchbook,” for some reason Eddie’s never felt more full of shame, “I didn’t though.” He says the last part sternly as if to reiterate that you can trust him enough not to try again.

You stay relatively quiet, hand still making its way through the frizzy waves, fingers curling the hair around themselves in an attempt to create curls. Eddie usually enjoys your random spurts of touchiness, revels in it, because it only happens once in a blue moon- when you’re too comfortable to register the way you’re touching him so intimately, but right now it does very little to quiet his nerves in the way he hoped it might. He wonders if you're mad at him.

The silence is deafening, he’s not sure why he said anything at all, the undeniable need to hold himself accountable when it comes to you is aggravating. Even with the reputation of someone like him it was incredibly hard to lie to you. The time he snuck a bite of your lunch abruptly crosses his mind, he remembers how it took all of ten seconds of your frowning stare for him to give in and stop blaming Henderson.

The thought is thrown out the window when he feels your body cuddle up to him, “It’s you.” you whisper the words so quietly he almost misses it.

His head turns to you, for what seems like the nth time tonight, only to find you already looking at his face close enough he can feel the warmth of your breath against his shuttering lips. You’re so close, maybe too close because he’s sure you can see the way his pupils dilated and the way his nose goes a little red in correspondence.

Eddie’s brows furrow, “What’s me?”

Your eyes dart to look at everything but his eyes, you look at the crease formed from confusion between his brows and the way it makes his button nose scrunch a little, the smile lines that are prominent even without his usual smug grin, you look at the pink of his lips and the way the skin peels from how often he bites at them, you do see the way his pupils dilate and how his nose gets red, “The drawings in the sketchbook- their all drawing of you.”

At first he just watches you, brown doe like eyes looking for signs of deceit or sarcasm as if he thinks you’re seconds away from laughing in his face and telling him “It was a joke” because he doesn't want it to be. He wants to know if you look at him the way he looks at you. He needs to know if you notice how the corner of his eyes crinkle when he laughs the way he notices the way your eyes shine like gold in the light of the morning sun. Do you take notice of the beauty mark that lays hidden under the shield of his eyelashes the way he takes note of and admires every visible mark and scar that litters your face and body? Do you see Eddie the way he sees you? He hopes you do.

The breath he takes before speaking is uncharacteristically shakey compared to the usual confidence he holds in his chest, “Yeah?”

Your confirming hum, even with it being laced with uncertainty, has his heart soaring to heights of tenderness he has never felt before. He brings his hand to your face and lets his ringed fingers, calloused and scarred, delicately trace the features he swears were sculpted by some sort of deity before letting it settle against your warming cheek with an adoration that could make even the coldest of hearts leap. His touch is so filled with irrefutable love that it could be mistaken for worship in the purest of forms and God does it make your heart ache with a passion like no other.

The euphoric feeling of exhilaration that fills the both of you and the room has you both giggling like children, pressing your foreheads together at the ridiculousness of the situation, everything not having fully settled in your minds.

This natural feeling of contentment between the two of you is all Eddie ever craves. He hoped almost everyday for moments like this- to be the reason you light up with laughter even in moments of seriousness.

“So… Am I like your muse or something? Cause y’know I’d be totally flattered.” The words are muttered as to not disrupt the intimacy of the moment but the teasing tone of his voice is there and a smirk that has his smile lines deepening, a sight you treasure, inches across his flushed face. When you jokingly begin to roll away from him in response to his mocking his hands press firmly into the dip of your waist to keep you close, he couldn’t even possibly think of being more than a foot away from you right now and he’d never pass up the chance to hold you close.

Eddie rubs his nose against yours, his hair tickles your collarbone, “I think you basically confessed to me by the way, sweetheart.”

You think your best friend is the only person in the world who would still crack jokes during times like this. You cuddle your face closer to his letting your lips brush against his just enough to make his breath hitch, “Oh yeah? Maybe you just have an ego and think I confessed to you. I gotta admit Munson, that's a little presumptuous of you.” Your fingers brush a little of his dark hair out of the way.

His hand moves from your waist to your cheek to the back of your neck to tangle his fingers into the hair by the base, “Well maybe I’m feeling a little egotistical.” The kiss he then places on your lips is nothing short of intoxicating, a gentleness that doesn’t exclude the devastating hunger he feels for you. It’s all consuming and all him. His lips are softer than you imagine and as his tongue slides against the seal of your lips for permission to enter you can taste the faintness of the cigarette he had smoked before getting to your place. His tongue dances with your own sensually instead of dirtily and slowly instead of frenzied like he wanted you to feel every ounce of absolute passion he felt. You pull him impossibly closer, hands clenched tightly into the tattered fabric of his metallica t-shirt, only pulling away when you’ve both run out of breath.

Heavy breathing fills the silence of your bedroom and even with his exasperation Eddie trails his lips across your cheek and along your neck like he never wants to stop. “You should pose for me the next time I draw you.”

“I could pose naked.” He giggles immaturely just at the thought.

“Never mind, you ruined it.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot

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zyafics · 19 hours ago

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blurb request!

childhood best friend rafe x reader

perhaps a flashback type thing where rafe sees a guy flirting with reader at a party and doesn’t understand why he’s so angry about it

he runs in all “knight in shining armor” (in his mind) and tells the guy to leave reader alone and reader is pissed because it’s (one of) the first time a guy has shown interest in her

and rafe doesn’t even know how to explain why he was upset or the strange feeling he got when the guy backed off because he “didn’t realize she was his girlfriend” (even though she’s not)

in my head they’re in their mid teens but you could totally change that depending on what you feel most comfortable writing

hopefully this was the write amount of detail, can’t wait to see what you come up with <3

thank u for joining my little blurb exercise!

BLURBFEST I | RC

join my blurbfest <3 | WORD COUNT: 0.9k

If Rafe can have one wish right now, he’d wish to have not brought you to this party.

It’s the beginning of the year. Classes begin soon, and Kooks like to celebrate their accomplishments by hosting a big extravaganza. Normally, you aren’t one for attendance, but this year is “different,” in your own words. This year, you wanted to branch out.

Rafe wants to put you back in.

Let’s be clear: he loves that you’re growing more confident. Truth be told, you have suffered through extreme cycles of low self-esteem and high expectations. But now, you’re finally flourishing. Finally finding your seat at the table. He should be proud—he is proud.

He just doesn’t like it when there are new people in the room.

Because all eyes are on you. Guys who would’ve normally never spared two glances in your direction are suddenly trying to steal your attention, complimenting you, spewing some sleazy pickup line that has Rafe rolling his eyes. But it works for you. Because it’s your first time.

Rafe crushes the red solo cup in his hand as you chat with a random stranger from across the room. For the past five minutes. He’s been counting down the seconds for you to bid your awkward goodbye, crawl back into his arms, and ask to leave—but you don’t.

In fact, you’re smiling.

Rafe’s seething.

He doesn’t understand the burning hole in his chest as he punishes himself and continues to watch. Many girls in the room are trying to grab Rafe’s attention, but none seem to get it. Only you—his childhood best friend, the one he swore to protect.

You’re smiling, but Rafe is almost certain it’s fake. An awkward antic of yours where you try to be as polite as possible, while counting down the seconds for him to swoop in and save you. The only reason Rafe hasn’t is because you haven’t given him the signal.

Until you glance.

In his direction.

Having had enough, Rafe tosses the cup to the side and approaches you, slinging a comfortable arm around your shoulders. Stiffening, you hadn’t expected his arrival, nor did Adam—the stranger you were talking to—as his voice fades away from the conversation you were delightfully having.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you think?” Rafe declares, but it isn’t a question. It’s a declaration. His tone darkens with a threatening edge—an edge you only catch very few glimpses of growing up.

“Rafe,” you hiss, but he ignores it.

“We were just talking,” Adam stammers, glancing between you and Rafe. You attempt to offer him an apologetic smile, but he doesn’t seem to take it.

“And now you’re leaving,” Rafe declares, using his other hand to gesture a dismissive wave. Your throat tightens with something akin to fury—how dare he?

“I don’t want any trouble,” Adam says with both hands up, in surrender, and that infuriates you further. What happened to asking the girl in the equation? “I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“I’m not—“

“Better hurry or I’ll change my mind,” Rafe glares, and without another word, Adam scurries away without so much as a farewell.

Satisfaction rumbles in Rafe’s chest—being your knight-in-shining-armor after all—but when he turns to face you, there’s anything but gratitude. In fact, if he reads you as well as he believes he can, there may be even resentment.

You shove him off. His arm slings back to his side. “What are you doing?”

He feels dumbstruck. “I’m saving you,��

“Saving me?” You huff with disbelief, “From what?”

“That… guy.” He feels like he stepped into a parallel universe. “You gave me a look.”

“I just looked at you.”

“Which is the look!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumble under your breath, crossing your arms. “I was talking to him. We were chatting. I was having fun.”

Something burns in Rafe’s throat, something he isn’t familiar with. While it’s true that you don’t have many interactions with guys, he never realizes how much he enjoyed your sole undivided attention. Now, giving off to strangers like Adam who don’t deserve a lick of it stirs something ugly within.

Rafe is almost certain it’s more than friendly.

You’re looking away, elsewhere, with your arms crossed in that menacing manner that always has Rafe folding to your every whim. You may be small, shorter than him—truly, everyone is—but something about that position is terrifying. He’ll do anything to rectify it.

“I’ll get him back,” Rafe concedes, but the words feel cheap on his tongue. Disgusting, almost. “If that’s what you want.”

“I don’t,” you say, remaining faraway, “Not when any guy I talk to ends up being afraid of my best friend.”

“It’s good insurance.”

“It’s pathetic,”

Rafe has nothing to say, but you don’t look to be in the mood to add to it. Finally, turning back, like a dog rejoiced at receiving any bit of attention, you say with a calm sigh. “Can you just take me home? I’m not feeling this party anymore.”

“Yes,” Rafe says swiftly, gladly taking that offer. He doesn’t want to be in a room with guys who see you as their next treat, either. “My house? We can throw some popcorn in the microwave and turn on that movie you like?”

Smiling, reserved just for him, you nod. “I’ll like that.”

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tranquilreign · 1 day ago

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hi can i request a female reader x jk angst? the plot is jk's wife passed away like a year~2 years ago but he never moved on bcs he loves her so much maybe she's his first love?? but he's a well-known ceo so his family cant afford public seeing jk weak or it will affect their business, so they arranged his marriage with reader, a daughter of their business partner. jk always ignore her in their marriage but she never stops trying, but at one point jk did something that hurts her so she ran away and plan to divorce.. thats when jk realise how bad he's been treating her.. sorry for being too specific, u can change anything as u like 😭🙏🏻 i'm hoping for a happy ending but after jk has suffered LMAO anyways thank u so much in advance if u could write this request 🥹🫶🏻

without you | requested oneshot

pairing; jungkook/reader genre: angst, fluff, arranged marriage au! ceo au! warnings: loss, swearing, slight neglect, arranged marriage word count: 4.2k synopsis: when jungkook's image begins to crumble due to the loss of his wife, his family force him into an arranged marriage to keep their strong influence.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jeon Jungkook. CEO of Golden Closet Corporations. A powerful, wealthy man. But broken. The news of his wife's death spread like wildfire when it was confirmed. He couldn't escape the images of his wife's face. She was everywhere he looked.

Being who he was, Jungkook couldn't properly grieve. Maintaining the perfect, pristine image as CEO. Though months passed by, Jungkook stayed the same. Stoic, unhappy. His employees had noticed the cracks first.

The way he would stay in his office for hours, claiming he was working, when in fact he was weeks behind. Lashing out at employees and even trashing his own office at one point.

Rumours quickly spread throughout the building, then into the press about Jungkook's behaviour. Contracts were cut, and new connections were declined due to Jungkooks state.

Eventually, his family had to get involved, turning up unannounced one evening at his home. Jungkook reluctantly let them in, letting them walk into the living room to sit down.

The house wasn't as clean as it used to be. Dirty dishes sat piled in the sink with the dishwasher open, showing clean dishes that hadn't been put away. The lights and table surfaces were dusty, something which Jungkook typically hated. It made his parents cringe at his lack of hygiene.

"Son," Jungkook's father began, leaning forward on the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

His eyes were stern, disapproving of his son's behaviour. Jungkook would usually shrink at his father's gaze, but he was numb. No amount of dissatisfaction he felt from his father fazed him. His own disappointment in himself clouded that.

"Kookie," his mother spoke faintly, moving to place her hand on his knee.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with nothing. Empty. She squeezed his knee reassuringly, but the look in her eyes told a different story. She was looking at him apologetically, which confused Jungkook. His eyes moved back to his father.

"Your past actions are having a severe impact on the company. On us," Jungkook's father explained.

Jungkook scoffed.

"Is that what you are here to talk to me about? My reputation. Your reputation," Jungkook snapped. "In case you've forgotten, my wife-" he paused, feeling the lump in his throat.

"Yes, we know. Your wife died... a year and a half ago," his father brushed off.

"What your father means to say-" his mother responded quickly. "Is that we know you are going through a difficult time, but lashing out at your employees isn't helping you."

Jungkook huffed, leaning back in his seat, looking out the window, staring at the city skyline. He remembered how he would sit with his wife, watching the sunset together as he held her close. He would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, embracing her in a long, loving kiss, as the sun sank behind the skyscrapers.

"You're getting married."

Jungkook's head shot round, now glaring at his father. How could he be expected to remarry when he hadn't even been given the chance to properly grieve his wife?

"No."

The two men stared at one another, silently challenging each other. Their gazes were intense, the atmosphere making Jungkook's mother shift in her seat uncomfortably. Jungkook's jaw clenched at his father, who wasn't backing down.

"If you don't remarry-" his father paused, "we'll take everything away from you. Your position, your home. We'll take every memory you have with your wife out of this house away from you."

Jungkook's eyes softened. He had built a life with the woman he loved in this home. It was their dream house, exactly how they wanted it. He couldn't give it up, letting go of all those memories. He would never see her again in his dreams, the only time he felt truly at peace.

"That's what I thought," his father spoke, tone low. Jungkook's head hung, staring at the floor.

His mother made a move to comfort him, but was stopped by her husband. They stood, making a move to leave the house.

"Will you at least tell me whom I am to marry?" Jungkook asked, looking up at his parents.

His father turned around, his grip on his wife's hand loosened, letting it drop to her side. She looked at her son with sorrowful eyes, wishing nothing more than to see her son happy again.

"Her name is Y/n L/n. She is the daughter of a rival company, but through this marriage, we will unite under one name."

His father walked out of the apartment, leaving Jungkook's mother as she looked at her helpless son.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she soothed. "I know this isn't what you wanted, or what you'd ever want. But please, at least try."

Jungkook's eyes stung from the tears that rolled down his cheeks. His mother's heart broke at the sight, wanting nothing more than to embrace her son and reassure him that everything would be okay.

With one final goodbye, she left, leaving him completely and utterly alone.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jungkook stood silently at the altar, the crowd muttering amongst themselves as they waited for the ceremony to start. The CEO unknowingly fiddled with his watch, feeling exposed. His father had made sure to make this a large, extravagant wedding, which was against Jungkook's wishes.

"It's to make a statement, Jungkook. Showing the world that we've made peace with our rivals."

At that moment, the crowd quietened down as the music picked up. Jungkook looked at the double doors at the back of the room. His mind wandered back to the day when his wife walked through similar doors, her face hidden by her veil. But he knew she would be beautiful. She always was.

He smiled slightly, expecting his wife to be behind the doors. Knowing it was too good to be true, his smile faltered back into his stoic expression. The doors opened, revealing a woman.

In her hands, she held a stunning arrangement of white tulips and roses, elegantly spaced among each other. Her dress was beautiful, featuring off-the-shoulder sleeves that showcased her radiant skin. It struck the perfect balance between lace and silk. Small rhinestones adorned the dress, creating an ombre effect that cascaded from the bodice to the floor.

Her face was not hidden behind a veil; instead, her hair was styled delicately, with a few curled strands falling down the sides and framing her face. Her chest rose and fell quickly, clearly indicating her nervousness.

Jungkook locked eyes with you, noting your innocence. But you still smiled at him, appreciating his presence. Jungkook hesitantly held out his hand to you when you reached the altar, which you gladly took.

Gracefully, you lifted your dress, making sure not to tread on the expensive fabrics as you ascended the stairs. You stood in front of Jungkook now, looking between him and the priest to your left.

Jungkook stood, imagining it was his deceased wife in front of him, hoping there was some escape in this nightmare.

"Mr. Jeon?" the priest asked.

The man looked at the priest, then at you. You were looking around, biting your lip nervously.

"Do you take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, the tension in the room growing thicker as the silence continued. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Yes. I do," he replied dryly.

You let out the breath you didn't realise you had been holding. You had responded immediately to the priest's question, smiling reassuringly at Jungkook.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Jungkook didn't hesitate, wanting this to be over with. He pulled you in by the waist and kissed you. It was short, with no passion lingering in his touch. He pulled away, both of you turning to the guests who clapped excitedly for you.

You tried to slide your hand into his, but he retracted. He had eventually moved it into yours as he escorted you out of the hall and into the street, which was bustling with reporters and paparazzi.

All questions were ignored as he guided you to the limousine, opening the door and indicating for you to get in. You compiled, the flashing of the cameras beginning to bother your eyes. Jungkook moved around to the other side, quickly getting in. The vehicle sped off, leaving the reporters and guests behind.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The after party was uneventful, parents and friends giving speeches, dancing and drinking. You and Jungkook hadn't had anything to drink, growing uncomfortable in the growing silence between the two of you.

When you had made it back to his place, Jungkook tugged his tie off and threw his jacket onto the couch. He sighed, his head falling back, the realisation finally sinking in. You had been arranged to live with him.

"Take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," he muttered.

Jungkook didn't want to disrespect the loving nights he shared with his past wife. It was their bed, and he wouldn't ruin those memories by having another woman beside him.

"Are you sure? I can take the couch instead," you suggested.

You were well aware of Jungkook's loss. Having seen the rumours in the news about his behaviour and coldness. You knew he would never love you and that there would be no way you could replace his previous wife. But you wanted to try and make things as easy for him as possible.

"No. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you sleep on the couch?"

You hummed in response, bowing a quick thank you to him, then disappeared into the bathroom. Your belongings had been moved in the previous day, while you and Jungkook's families were sorting the final few details of the wedding.

You gently took off your makeup and did your regular skin-care routine. Sliding your dress off your body, you changed into pyjamas and draped your wedding dress over your left arm.

Leaving the bathroom, you took notice of Jungkook, who was still in his suit, shoes now kicked off, lying down on the couch, watching as the sun set. You slowly approached him, sitting down on the chair to his left and looked out at the city.

"I'm sorry," you spoke softly.

Jungkook didn't look at you, making no movement or sound to indicate that he acknowledged your words. You continued nonetheless.

"I know this isn't what you wanted. And I am deeply sorry for the loss of your wife."

Jungkook stiffened at your words. No one had given him an ounce of sympathy since she had passed. It felt strange, unnatural, now receiving that comfort.

"I also know I will never be her. And I won't try to be her either," you paused. "But please know, I will do my best to make your life comfortable and happy."

For the first time since the ceremony, he looked at you. He said nothing, eyes almost empty. You caught a slight sliver of appreciation for your words. He then moved, lying on his back and closing his eyes. You took that as your cue to leave.

"Good night," you whispered, standing up and making your way over to the bedroom.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

A few months had passed since you had been wed. Not much had changed; Jungkook was still quiet and barely acknowledged your presence. But he showed his appreciation for you being there for him in small ways.

Whether it was bringing home take-out for both of you when you'd had a long day. Or when he would silently run a bath for you when he had noticed you rubbing your shoulders in discomfort.

The awkwardness had eased between you, but sometimes it was still there. You never knew what exactly to say to him. He wore the same stoic expression, never once smiling or becoming angry.

You had awoken early one morning, yawning and climbing out of bed, and groggily walking into the kitchen. You glanced at the clock ticking away quietly on the tiled wall. 5:00 am.

Jungkook slept peacefully on the couch, still refusing to share a room with you. Yet you had often caught him in your supposed shared bedroom. He would gently graze the bedsheets with his fingertips, memories of his passed wife easing into his mind. It was the only time you'd truly see him at peace.

Jungkook inhaled the sweet scent of bacon, the aroma waking him up from his slumber. He groaned slightly, sitting up on the couch and looking around the room. Turning in his seat, he looked at you, his eyes still foggy.

"Good morning," you mused, giving him a gentle smile.

"Mina?"

Your smile faltered, turning back around to flip the bacon in the pan. Jungkook stood up, rubbing his eyes. Realisation came to him when he finally saw it was you in the kitchen, not the woman he loved so dearly. He cursed under his breath.

"Sorry."

"It's fine," you mumbled in response. "Like I said, I will never be her, or try to be her. I have no expectations from you."

Your words, for some reason, hurt Jungkook's heart. He was confused by the feeling growing in his chest. Shaking it off, he shuffled over to the island table in the kitchen and sat down at one of the seats.

"Mina used to make me this," he sighed, looking at the display before him.

Pancakes sat in the middle of the table, with an assortment of fruits and nuts, all in separate bowls. A glass jug of orange juice sat to his left, which Jungkook made a grab for immediately. He poured himself a glass, then looked around for yours.

"Are you not eating?" he asked.

"Hmm?" you asked, in a moment of confusion. "Oh, no. I'm not hungry."

Jungkook eyed you warily, watching you closely. You turned around, scooping the bacon out of the pan and placing it on his plate. He looked down, and it was exactly how he liked it.

"Thank you."

"It's alright. I won't make it again, though, if it was something Mina did. I don't want you to think-"

"No," Jungkook suddenly responded, taking both of you aback. "I appreciate you doing this for me. Please don't stop, if it's something you enjoy making."

A gentle smile graced your features as you sat down opposite him. You watched him eat, looking at his messy hair and baggy t-shirt. As time passed, with you and Jungkook living together, you had slowly begun to develop feelings for him.

You would never act on those feelings, however. Knowing Jungkook would never accept you. The loss of his wife still affected him so deeply to the point he still dreamt of her, and even envisioned her in the house.

You stretched, stepped out of your seat. Jungkook looked up from his food and couldn't help but stare at the way your t-shirt rode up, exposing a little bit of your stomach. He swallowed and looked away, scolding himself for his wandering eyes.

"Do you have any plans today?" you asked suddenly, moving out from the kitchen and to the living room, picking up the discarded pillows on the floor.

"No," Jungkook responded blankly. "You?"

"I was planning on doing some cleaning," you responded, fluffing the pillows that now sat on the couch. "I typically do it while you are at work, but I was so tired yesterday..." you trailed off, a slight blush spreading across your cheeks.

"Do you want me to help?"

You were surprised by his offer, not expecting him to want to help. You shook your head, holding up your hands and waving them in the air.

"No, no. It's alright, you just relax. I shouldn't be too long anyway," you explained sheepishly.

Jungkook finished the last of his food and picked up the empty plates. He moved over to the sink on the other side of the island, turning on the tap.

"At least let me do the dishes. It's the least I can do for you, making me breakfast," he spoke, his tone soft.

It was the first time he had sounded... human. It was surprising. You smiled at him and nodded, confirming his request.

"I'll start in the bedroom. If you need anything, just give me a shout," you said. "Excuse me."

You walked in behind him, trying to squeeze past him. You accidentally tripped, stumbling over your feet. Jungkook was quick to react, his arms wrapped around your waist, halting your fall. You jerked at the sudden stop, turning your head to look at him. Both of you held eye contact for a moment until he let out a grunt, helping you stand back upright.

"Thank you. Sorry."

"It's fine," Jungkook muttered shyly.

You bent down next to him, opening the bottom cupboard door and grabbing the feather duster. Instead of trying to squeeze past him again, you walked in the opposite direction around the island and into the bedroom.

Quietly, you hummed to yourself, dusting away and moving anything that could get in the way or get knocked over. You silently cursed to yourself when you had elbowed a small box off the bookshelf.

You bent down to pick it up, stopping when you noticed the contents had spilt out. A beautiful emerald ring encased in silver glittered against the sunlight. Carefully, you picked it up and examined it. It was beautiful.

You moved to pick up the box, and you placed it onto the set of drawers in front of the bed. Looking at it one more time, you were about to put it back in its box when Jungkook's voice boomed throughout the room.

"What the fuck are you doing!?"

You spun on the spot, stunned by his sudden tone. He was angry. With no hesitation, he stormed over to you and snatched the box and ring from you.

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "I accidentally knocked-"

"Shut the fuck up."

You fell silent. His glare didn't once leave you as he pocketed the box, ring now inside. He grabbed you by the arms tightly. You winced.

"Jungkook, you're hurting me."

"You will never touch that again. Do you hear me?!" he spat, his grip continuing to tighten until a scream escaped your lips.

In that moment, Jungkook felt his world crash down around him. He panicked, letting you go. You fell to the ground, holding your arms, trying to ease the pain.

"Fuck... Y/n, I'm so sorry," he went to move towards you, but you slid away from him, fear evident in your eyes.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you moved as far away as you could from him, your back hitting the wall when you could move no further. He ran both of his hands through his hair, fear and frustration clouding his mind.

He hurt you.

"I'm- I'm sorry," he breathed, backing away. "So... so sorry."

He ran for it, grabbing his jacket and leaving the house, the door creating a loud slam as he did so.

You sat back flush against the wall, exhaling in relief. You had never seen Jungkook so angry, and it terrified you. Based on his reaction, it must have been Mina's engagement ring, something which was clearly precious to Jungkook.

"That's gonna bruise," you muttered, examining your arms as you slowly stood up.

Grabbing the discarded feather duster, you shuffled back into the kitchen, putting it away. The ache in your arms was still evident, and in that moment, you decided that a bath was probably the best way to ease the pain.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jungkook continued to run, the hard rain hitting against his face. He couldn't believe what he had just done. He put his hands on you. To hurt you. He wanted to hurt you. Because you had touched something precious to him. Something you weren't allowed to touch.

He stopped, catching his breath. He cried, not knowing what to do. Jungkook knew you weren't going to do anything with the ring. But the sight of you looking at it had him see red.

He leaned against the railings in the park, staring out at the pond, its usually still water disturbed by the pattering of the rain. Thunder crashed as the sky continued to darken, Jungkook's already soaked hair beginning to stick to his neck and face.

Jungkook had to make this right. He pushed himself off the railing and sprinted back to the apartment, praying you weren't already packing your things to leave him.

He pushed himself, lungs burning as they begged for breath, but he didn't stop. Turning the last corner to the street where you lived, he slid. He lost his breath, pitching forward and catching himself with his hands on the ground. He stumbled forward, eventually balancing out when he regained himself.

He barged into the apartment, not caring that he was leaving water all over the floor. He glanced around the room, looking for any sight of you. Running to the bedroom, his eyes widened when he saw the suitcase that sat on the bed, with clothes laid out.

"Y/n!" he shouted, between panting breaths.

No response. Without thinking, he turned to the bathroom, starting his search for you there.

You let out a high-pitched scream when Jungkook suddenly burst through the door. You move to cover yourself with your hands, trying to hide the most desirable parts of you.

"What the hell, Jungkook," you squeaked.

Your head was resting on your knees, which were tucked up against your chest. You were looking right at him, eyes blown wide at the circumstance you both were now in.

The sight before Jungkook didn't bother him. Instead, he dropped to his knees and shuffled towards you. He plunged his hand into the hot water, pulling your hand out and holding it in his.

"Please, don't leave Y/n," he begged, his head bowed as he did so.

"What-"

"Please. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here. You've helped me through so much. You have shown me kindness and that you care about me."

You were dumbstruck, unsure of the situation at hand. Had Jungkook hit his head while he was out? You didn't know, but you were more confused than ever.

"Jungkook, who said I was leaving?" you asked, lifting your head up.

Jungkook's head shot up, looking at you with tears in his eyes. He stuttered over his words, trying to find a way to explain his thought process. He stopped when his eyes wandered to your arm, a bruise beginning to form from where he grabbed you.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed, lifting your arm closer to him.

He planted a soft kiss against the bruise, his actions taking you by surprise. Jungkook pulled away, gently running his thumb over the injury, ashamed of his actions. He promised himself, from then on, that he would love and protect you. Forever.

In that moment, it was as if Jungkook had an epiphany. In the recent days of your relationship, whenever he closed his eyes, he thought he saw Mina. The love of his life.

Instead, he was seeing you. Smiling and holding out your hand for him to take. As if Jungkook was dreaming, he looked behind him, seeing Mina holding his other hand, caressing his knuckles lovingly.

"Go to her," Mina whispered. "Be happy again."

For the first time, after so long, Jungkook smiled, looking up at you. You raised an eyebrow, confused at his sudden reaction, but your heart warmed at his smile.

Jungkook moved his hands to cup your face. You stared at him, unsure of what he was doing. He didn't think, moving forward and pulling you into a soft, gentle kiss.

You immediately melted into him, closing your eyes, manoeuvring around in the bath so you faced him. His touch was warm, moving from your face to your jaw, holding you delicately, passion exploding between the two of you.

You were the first to pull away, moving your arm back around to cover your chest. Jungkook kept his eyes shut, panting softly. He felt warm, happy, something he had yearned for, for so long.

"It's taken me so long to realise," Jungkook whispered.

He placed his forehead against yours, opening his eyes and looking at you lovingly.

"That you are what I needed. Who I needed. You've helped me see, helped me realise that Mina wouldn't want me to grieve. To push everyone away."

You smiled at his words, moving away from him. He took your free hand in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand softly.

"I love you, Y/n," he breathed.

It was as if the world had stopped spinning. You looked at Jungkook, whose eyes held every emotion he had seemed to have forgotten long ago. Tears welled in your eyes, your hand squeezing his reassuringly.

"I love you, too."

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

hello guys! hope you enjoyed! this one felt rather long so i am sorry for that! and to the lovely person who requested. thank you so much!! you are the first to have requested and I really appreciate you doing so!

this was so much fun to write, despite it being sad, but it truly was a blast! i do hope this is what you had in mind when you requested. when I saw your ask this type of story immediately came to mind! i do hope that is okay!

if you enjoyed it please take a look at my other works or if you're interested in requesting an idea/or have a prompt click the links below!

masterlist | requests | request rules | prompt list

tranquilreign~

196 notes · View notes

leviruthan · 2 days ago

Text

you cook something for them that is hardly edible

characters : leona, riddle, malleus, idia, lilia, ace, deuce, vil, kalim, azul, jamil

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

leona would scoff when you present it to him. "what's this garbage?" he probably wasn't intentionally being that mean, but that's just his default

when you explain you made it for him, he looks slightly surprised

he eyes it suspiciously before reluctantly taking a bite

his reaction would be a subtle grimace and a slight twitch of his nose

"tch. you call this food, herbivore?" he says although there's not any real venom in his tone

would probably push the plate away "don't bother next time. just... don't"

however, if you looked genuinely upset by his reaction, he might grumble something like "alright, alright. it's... edible. barely" but he wouldn't touch much more

ruggie would try to sneak a taste and then make a face, silently agreeing with his dorm leader

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

riddle would raise a brow at the thing you're calling food "what is this, [name]?" he asks, his tone more curious than accusatory at first

upon learning you made it for him, a flicker of surprise comes across his face, quickly masked by his usual composed demeanor

he examines the food with a critical eye. "the presentation... could use improvement"

he takes a small, precise bite

his expression doesn't change much initially, but you would notice a slight tightening around his lips

"the flavor profile is... unconventional" he'd state matter-of-factly

being raised with strict rules, he'd likely feel obligated to eat at least a little bit more

he would probably politely suggest "perhaps we could review some basic culinary rules together sometime?" which is his way of saying it wasn't good without being outright mean

MALLEUS DRACONIA

malleus would be intrigued by your offering, he doesn't often receive handmade things from others

he finds it rather endearing that you'd make something for him

he looks at it with genuine curiosity "oh? what do have we here, child of man?"

from the look of the food, he gets some flashbacks with lilia in it but shakes them off because he shouldn't completely judge it based on looks, right

you tell him you decided to cook for him because you loveee cooking

"how thoughtful of you" he'd be genuinely happy tbh

he'd take a bite, observing your reaction more than focusing on the taste itself

his expression would remain neutral for a moment, then he would tilt his head slightly "it possesses a... bold flavor"

he's not one to be overly critical of a genuine effort. he would even find a strange sort of amusement in it

"thank you for the gesture. it is... memorable" he'd probably finish a polite amount, more out of respect than enjoyment

LILIA VANROGUE

he loves it! he will also cook something for you <3 be ready

IDIA SHROUD

he's probably too engrossed in whatever he's doing to notice you're even in the kitchen until you awkwardly present him with... whatever it is

his first reaction would be visual. a slight widening of his glowing blue hair flames

"uh... what... is this, [name]?" he asks tilting his head slightly, not wanting to be rude but genuinely confused

if you explain you made it for him, he'd glitch a little "f-for me? you... you didn't have to do that.

he takes a very, very small bite, eyes darting around nervously.

"it's... uh... very... unique" he says carefully, trying to find a positive adjective

he definitely wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, so he'd try to eat a little more while staring intently at his tablet as a distraction

ACE TRAPPOLA

when you finally present it to him, he'd take a tentative bite, his face scrunching up slightly

he tries not to be too mean about it, maybe saying something like "well, uh, the effort's there, i guess"

secretly he might find it a little endearing that you tried, even if it was a culinary disaster

he wouldn't admit that out loud, though

DEUCE SPADE

deuce would be super awkward. he'd take a bite, chew slowly, and then say something like "this is... very unique, [name]. i can tell you put a lot of hard work into it"

ah yes indeed you put a lot of work into it

his brows would be slightly furrowed like he's trying to decipher the flavor

he'd try to eat as much as he could without complaining, because he wouldn't want to hurt your feelings

would gulp down a lot of water afterwards

he would subtly suggest ordering takeout next time you offer to cook "maybe... maybe we could try sam's sandwiches tonight? just a thought!"

VIL SCHOENHEIT

vil would raise a perfectly sculpted eyebrow the moment he sees the dish

his initial reaction would be based purely on aesthetics. if it looks messy, he's already judging

upon tasting it, his expression becomes subtly pained. he wouldn't make that much of a big scene, but his nose would wrinkle almost imperceptibly

"my dear [name]" he begins, his voice dangerously calm "while i appreciate the gesture, i must be honest. this... creation... lacks finesse. considerably"

he would offer constructive (albeit harsh) criticism, pointing out every flaw in detail

he probably takes one or two polite bites, just to say he tried it, before suggesting perhaps he could prepare something more palatable

KALIM AL ASIM

kalim would beam at you, even if you just presented him food that didn't look very pleasant

"wow, [name]! you made food for me? that's so kind of you!"

he'd take a large bite, his eyes widening slightly "it's… very interesting!"

he takes another bite, trying to figure out the flavors

"it's got a… strong taste! what are all the spices you used? i've never tasted anything quite like it!"

he'd still try to eat it all

maybe even offering some to the others with genuine enthusiasm

he'd just be happy you made something for him

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

he would probably take one polite bite, a barely perceptible wince flickering across his face

then, without saying a single harsh word, he sets down his fork

"my dear" he starts, his tone smooth as always "while i appreciate the gesture immensely, perhaps… perhaps we could explore other culinary options in the future? i'm quite certain the cafeteria has something palatable this evening"

he subtly pushes the plate away, as if it's radiating some unpleasant aura

would make a mental note to ensure you never offer to cook again

JAMIL VIPER

jamil would watch you with a sigh that spoke volumes before even tasting it. he'd take a small portion, his expression unreadable

when he tastes it his lips are pressed into a thin line

he doesn't want to insult your genuine effort but

"while I appreciate the gesture, you should focus on other things. leave the cooking to me" please

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ohhowjooniewept · 3 days ago

Text

jungkook x y/n - ex’s to lovers

angst, fluff, smut

jungkook was an idiot. the biggest idiot that had ever graced this earth, that he was sure of. he had everything at his disposal - good looks, charming personality, a physique that drove most of the women around him insane. he had an infamous tattoo shop that was growing to be more and more well known, incredible colleagues and even better friends. jungkook had everything, except the one thing he wanted the most. you.

you were his once too, but after a stupid rash decision on his part alongside some harsh words, you had packed up and walked away. you were many things, but you weren’t someone who would put up with any of his shit, especially when it was undeserving. it had been 2 months since jungkook had made you walk away from your 3 year relationship, and you were beyond upset. he was fairing even worse, but he knew that he couldn’t live like this any longer. he had to get you back, had to make you his girl once more - nothing really made sense in his life if he wasn’t sharing it with you.

the stupid catalyst for the argument had been the immense amount of female clients that were coming into his shop. you weren’t someone who was overtly jealous or possessive, but even you had to admit it was ridiculous the way they would fawn over him and do the absolute most and he would sit there completely oblivious. your breaking point was when one of his past situationships had come in, practically undressed in front of him only to decide she didn’t even want to get a tattoo but would rather spend her hour slot conversing with him.

you were sick of him not understanding and seeing it from your perspective. the irony of it all was if jungkook was anything, he was a jealous, jealous man. the mere thought of a man looking at you had him pouting and groaning, and there had been many nights in your relationship that had left you in bed, too sore to move after the rough fucking he had given you. it was a constant push and pull in his direction, and you were left confused when you realised it didn’t apply to you.

going back to your shared apartment that night was surreal. you hadn’t ever expected that this would be the night everything changed. you had brought it up to him, eliciting a long sigh as a response as you bickered over the same thing over and over and over.

“jungkook, why can’t you take me seriously?” you had huffed, big frown on your lips as you stood uncomfortably. “it’s not fair, you know how uncomfortable this would make you if it was the other way around.”

“y/n, what do you want me to do? it’s literally my job.” he grumbled back, turning his back to you as he continued his task of cooking something for the both of you.

you shook your head. “oh fuck you, you know that isn’t what i’m complaining about. jimin works there too, and yoongi, but they’re tactful and respectful. you like the girls coming up to you.” you frustratedly pushed your hair out of your face. “do you know how fucked that is? you genuinely enjoy it.”

jungkook could feel himself getting angry at your words, turning off the stove before whipping around to face you. “you’re so fucking clingy, y/n. it’s my job, and you know how much time and effort i’ve put into this shop, why would i listen to you when all you’re doing is putting your stupid feelings before anything else?”

there were a few beats of silence. you looked up at the tall boy that held every inch of your heart. it felt like he had crushed your very soul with each word, with each loud grumble that left him. he, in turn, looked down at you, instantly regretting his choice of words knowing they weren’t true and he sincerely didn’t mean them; that meant little considering he had already said it.

“okay.” you had simply replied, with a soft nod of your head. “thank you for making my decision for me.”

his eyebrows had furrowed. the look on your face was something that terrified him, a mix of utter despair and a slow calm that was quietly taking over. you had tears in your eyes, but they weren’t falling and the shake in your hands were hidden away.

you had grabbed your bag, and slipped on your shoes. he began walking towards you, reaching for you but the look you gave him rendered him speechless. this wasn’t just another argument, and the thought began to make anxiety pill in his stomach. “i’m sorry, y/n, let’s..let’s talk about it properly, okay? i shouldn’t have said that.”

“you shouldn’t have.” you agreed with a nod. “and that’s why i’m done jungkook. i don’t need to have the same conversation over and over and over. i shouldn’t have to ask you to respect me.”

it was like cold ice and cool air had swallowed him whole. what was he doing? what was he saying? why was he acting the way he was acting, over what and over who? he reached for you again but you had already began walking to the door. “baby, i’m sorry, okay? please, don’t walk out, we can..we can talk about this right?”

you scoffed with a shake of your head. “i’m going to stay at yejin’s. i’m tired.” you whispered, not looking back. you knew if you turned to look at him, you’d crumble and it wasn’t fair to yourself. you walked out, just as the tears began to stream, and jungkook could have sworn his life had ended.

—��

the first week of you being away was akin to a million bullets in his body. you hadn’t responded to his calls or his multiple messages, and you couldn’t bring yourself to come to the tattoo shop despite it being a spot you and all of your shared friends frequented.

by week two, his pillows had become permanently stained by his tears and he was visibly deflated. he had no one else to blame but himself and that much was obvious.

it was week three where it had really solidified. yejin had come by and gotten a few things for you, collecting your stuff. considering you were all in the same friendship group, she let him cry in her arms for an hour before she called namjoon to take care of him - this wasn’t a happy outcome for anyone.

now, he was sat in his tattoo parlour, head down on this desk whilst the lights remained on despite having closed hours ago. two months had passed, not a single word shared between you two and it was killing him in ways he couldn’t even comprehend. you were like this, he knew that. you shut people out the second you felt hurt, a way to protect yourself you once told him - he was sure that you had moved on and healed from that part of your life but seeing it in action now confirmed how badly he must have hurt you.

“you need to go home.” yoongi murmured, resting his body on the doorframe of jungkook’s tattooing room.

“don’t like going home.” he sighed back, rubbing over his tired eyes. “just so quiet.”

yoongi let out a loud groan, head thrown back. he stomped his feet akin to a small child and shook his head rapidly back and forth, as if physically ridding him of the sight of jungkook being so pathetic.

“my god, get a fucking grip already.”

the tatted man looked up, mouth agape, half in shock half in confusion.

“you want y/n?” he grunted, finger pointing at him. jungkook nodded quickly. “then get the fuck up. god, you’re so annoying, how did you last 3 years?” the older man huffed, wobbling away to his own room to get his things.

jungkook stood up, pouting in pure desperation. “how? she won’t answer my calls or texts, yejin doesn’t come round when we’re all here which means i can’t even ask how she’s doing.” he whined, following yoongi. “i just want my girl back, i’ll do anything.”

“then do it.” he groaned once more. “do you not get it? you’re in this situation because you kept making the wrong decision over and over again, and she was sick of it. she had every right to walk away and frankly, she doesn’t owe you anything.”

jungkook nodded frantically, following the older man as he packed his things up properly for the night. “i know, fuck i know, and i’ll do anything to make it up to her. i can’t believe i’ve made her feel this way, i just want another chance.”

“earn it.” yoongi finished. “stop waiting for a chance, go and earn it. show her you’re worthy of it.”

——

you were sat on yejin’s couch, in a big t-shirt and sleep shorts. you were embarrassed to admit out loud how much comfort the large piece of cotton on your body was giving you, especially considering it all stemmed from the faint scent laced in that reminded you so strongly of jungkook. your kookie.

you felt half ashamed for being so rash in your decision to leave him and half determined. why should you put up with behaviour that upset you, and why should you let someone who had the key to your very soul hurt you? you loved him more than you were ever ready to admit, despite 3 years together, but you had to come to terms with the fact it just didn’t matter anymore.

yejin, one of your best friends, had taken it upon herself to look after you. living in the same shared space as jungkook for so long meant you were entirely used to his presence and routine, and now that you weren’t together, life had fallen on its axis. regardless, she was incredible, she had held your hands without judgement and continuously supported you in whatever decision you wanted to make despite also being jungkook’s close friend.

she was cooking something up for you both in the kitchen as you simply stared into space. you felt so hollow without him, but you weren’t really sure what you were supposed to do - you couldn’t handle seeing all of those girls constantly fawning over him whilst you too were in his presence.

jungkook’s biggest problem was that he was too nice. you knew this better than most, considering it was the one thing that attracted you to him the most when you first met - this unfortunately came with its own cons. he was gullible and naive, he couldn’t tell when people were openly flirting with him or crossing the line because he was open about having you as his girlfriend, he assumed they understood and that they too were overly friendly.

his tattoo page on Instagram had blown up, his work truly spoke for itself and you had cried countless times over how proud you were of him. a win for him was a win for you, and you both lived by that philosophy. but you’d notice certain girls coming in, booking specifically with him, only to spend their entire consultation slot flirting with him. they’d then leave, with no intention of actually booking in a tattoo. he’d take their compliments on his work as genuine and feel overtly flattered, and of course quite enjoyed the recognition of his work, but jungkook was painfully unaware of their intentions.

overtime, it began chipping at you. countless arguments and conversations between you both now resulted in the situation you were in right now. you knew, genuinely knew, that he would do anything for you, but you couldn’t ask him outright to do anything unless he could see a problem with it too. jungkook wasn’t just an ordinary partner, he was every single thing you had ever wanted.

you’d had your fair share of horrible flings and partners before him, constantly being emotionally manipulated and taken advantage of - it was ironic really, that when you met the tall tatted boy, you had sworn off men for the rest of your life. in less than 3 months, you had become his girlfriend and he began showering you with love that you genuinely never believed in. 3 years of pure bliss, with a single thorn in your side but it was too big to ignore.

so here you sat, staring into space with bags growing under your eyes and the faint scent of the love of your life lingering into the shirt you clung to. yejin was someone you had met years prior to meeting jungkook, and slowly your friendship circles had melded into a big group of 9. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to navigate this, and you were too scared to reach out to him after two months of purposeful distance.

before you could even open your mouth to share your thoughts with yejin, the door knocked. your head peeked up to look over at her, watching as she struggled with her hands full. “it’s okay, i’ll go.” you reassured.

your feet were padded in your slippers as you walked over to the door, smoothening your hair. you unlocked and pulled it open, a loud and audible gasp leaving your lips.

jungkook stood in front of you. clad in his usual all black attire. you blinked at him, drinking every inch in as your brain completely disintegrated. broad shoulders and that furrow in his brow, his jaw was tight and he was frowning so deeply - he hadn’t slept. you could tell from the purple underneath his eyes and the pang that followed as a result in your stomach was enough to lull tears into your eyes immediately.

“no, no baby, don’t cry.” he immediately cooed, stepping over to you as his hands reached out to cup your face. you let him, although you weren’t sure why.

you didn’t know what to say, but in a matter of seconds you were already incredibly overwhelmed. you let him hold you, as you began to sob, your own hands covering your face whilst yejin rushed over the door to see what the commotion was all about.

“want me to give you a second, y/n?” she asked gently. jungkook looked up with a pained expression to which she simply apologetically shook her head at him, this was on your terms and therefore she had to be present for you, not him.

“yeah.” you managed to choke out, which made her nod, heading over to her room.

you both separated, sniffles filling the air as you tried to regain any semblance of control. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, having put yourself in a void where he didn’t exist in your mind in the name of self preservation and yet here he stood. you shuffled to the side, letting him in before closing the door, you both hanging around unsure of what to say.

“i’ve missed you.” he whispered to you, still stood near you, fingers twitching to touch you. you couldn’t bring yourself to reply, despite the both of you knowing very clearly from your reaction you were still trying to regulate that you too felt the same way.

he took a step towards you, frowning so deeply. “y/n, please look at me.”

you peered up, eyes wet and bags full under your eyes. jungkook’s breath caught in his throat at the mere sight of you, he’d been deprived of you for so long that just looking at you felt healing to his heart.

“i fucked up so badly, i hurt you over and over and it’s not okay, and it’s something that i will fix. i swear to you, baby, i’m going to fix this.” he all but begged, stepping closer and closer.

you looked away, closing your eyes tight and shut. “i know that you’re pushing me away because you think it’s safer, but i’m not going anywhere. i’m going to get you back, and i don’t care how long it takes. i’m going to make myself worthy of you.” he promised, standing a little taller by the end of his words.

there was a moment of silence which allowed you to hesitantly peer up, eyes slowly trailing from his hands, to his large chest, his chin to his eyes. eye contact was held between you for a solid minute, the both of you shuffling closer and closer until jungkook held your hands tightly in your own. you let out a little exhale before giving him a single nod, a confirmation.

he breathed out deeply. this was your way of telling him you were going to let him in, going to let him try. “you’re my girl, y/n.” he whispered softly, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing over and over and over. “never going to let you feel that way ever again, okay? never, swear to you baby.”

tears were streaming down your face again, as you quietly cried at his words. you were so traumatised from the pain before jungkook that you couldn’t handle being so open, so vulnerable in this very moment in fear of it being used against you but you knew he was being sincere. it was a push and pull that tore you open, and he knew that. he was here, holding you together and promising you everything you needed to hear.

“i’m gonna prove it to you because you’re everything, you’re it for me.” he continued, hand leaving yours whilst the other cradled them to his chest. his fingers swiped at your tears, holding you tight to his body. “you’re my future, my wife, mother of my children - i’m going to get you that white fucking fence in our garden.”

you let out a half whimper half laugh, stomach somersaulting at his words of declaration. it eased the pressure building in the moment massively, and you subconsciously realised how good jungkook was at easing your brain eating thoughts.

“okay.” you simply whispered back. you couldn’t really bring yourself to say much, not in this state, but that one word felt like every inch of hope in the world floating in his body. “okay.” he confirmed back, firm.

jungkook’s plan started today - mission get y/n back commencing.

——

working a corporate job was something you were sure was a punishment for something you did in a past life. sitting at your desk, consistently being undermined by your male colleagues despite being miles ahead of them was enough to make you want to stab your own eyeballs out.

your hour’s lunch break was usually spent at jungkook’s tattoo shop, which was only a 7 minute walk away from the big building but of course, considering your situation with him at the minute, you hadn’t been going.

instead, you sat outside on the circular benches situated outside of your company building. the weather was warmer, so not many people stuck to the canteen, everyone had gone out whilst you ate your soggy sandwich, contemplating your life.

you also had no idea you were being watched until you could hear a little snicker to your left, your eyes slowly shifting to look up to be met with a bunny smile and crinkled eyes.

jungkook wasn’t joking when he said he was prepared to prove himself to you - he had done his research, prepared his mind and now he was ready to applicate. his first task for today was to make you a delicious lunch, he knew he was a pretty good cook and he usually packed you something in your bag considering you’d wake up so early.

rocking up to your building, he was about to head inside and ask the nice receptionist to hand the bag over only to find you sat outside. the sight of you was enough to make him want to wail out loud, with your little pencil skirt and shirt, your legs swinging and heels scraping the floor as you miserably ate what looked like a cucumber sandwich. the little pout on your face was making his heart pump and he couldn’t handle it.

“jungkook?” you questioned, sitting up straight and wiping the side of your mouth with widened eyes. “what are you doing here?”

“saving you, apparently. what are you eating?” he asked as he sat beside you, putting the little lunchbox on the table.

you were too busy gawking at him, your brain not quite computing that he was here. you worked in finance, which meant you were around clean and tidy men that wore suits much too tight with egos that could rival tyrants - jungkook was an anomaly just sat here but it secretly brought you comfort to have a piece of what felt like home around here.

he knew you didn’t like staying here for your lunches, which is why you were constantly at the shop and he loved it. he loved being able to have you in his company, getting to feed you and take care of you for a solid hour, sometimes in more ways than one. it was also why he mourned the loss of your presence over the last 2 months, so many lunches spent alone and he couldn’t bring himself to think of you sat in the canteen, upset.

“cucumber sandwich.” you murmured, cheeks flushing pink as you watched him tut. he lifted it out of your hands, and you grew pliant - you loved when he took care of you, it made your brain fuzzy.

he opened up the little lunchbox and pulled out the box of rice, chicken and sautéd vegetables - he had made your favourite with his secret sauce that he simply refused to share details on. “don’t think so baby, come on. eat up, you need your energy.”

you couldn’t help the little gasp and then the groan that followed at the sight and smell of a delicious meal. you couldn’t bring yourself to hide away from him, excitedly picking up the utensils he had brought and instantly digging in.

you both chose to eat in silence, with you eating your yummy hand cooked meal and jungkook opting for finishing off your sandwiches for you since he knew you didn’t like wasting food. the sight made your stomach somersault, but you couldn’t bring yourself to comment on it.

once you were done, you wiped your mouth with the cute sanrio tissue he had packed. “thank you.” you almost shyly murmured, secretly more than pleased with this surprise.

he grinned over at you, wiping his own mouth with another tissue. tall, tatted man wiping his mouth with a hello kitty napkin? god, why did you ever let him go?

“no worries baby, you full?” you nodded at him, cheeks stained pink from the second he arrived. “can’t have you eating these sandwiches, i’ll bring lunch to you from now on.”

“you don’t have to do that.” you shook your head immediately. “yes i do, the sight of you eating cucumber and bread was enough to nearly kill me earlier.” he scoffs.

a giggle left you before you could help yourself and jungkook couldn’t help the smile that formed, fingers twitching to grab you and smother you in kisses. his chest tightened when he realised he couldn’t.

“i tried, it wasn’t so bad, i mean you ate it all.” you pointed out.

“yeah, i’d eat anything you make and it would taste michelin star level but i’ll cook for you, hm? we have a deal?” he cheekily extended his hand.

your eyes narrowed at him. you bit your lip as a grin took over your face, before taking his hand in your own in a small handshake. “fine. i want katsu curry tomorrow.”

——

“jinnie, i don’t care.” you groaned out loud, head thrown back and arms hurting.

here you stood, with namjoon and jin as they laughed at you trying to catch your breath in the gym. months and months of begging your fitness obsessed friends to show you how to do things and here you were, begging them to stop.

you usually came here with jungkook, but you wouldn’t really get much done. you’d watch him work out, probably get all excited and snap a few photos of your matching fits, and then force him to do sit ups with you on his back just for fun. who would have thought working out could actually be taxing?

“don’t care, y/n, i want you to do 5 more. come on.” the oldest boy sang, shaking his head as he forced you to pick up the weights once more.

you groaned again, currently situated on the floor in a sprawl as the two men laughed and snickered over you. jungkook would never let you do this, you grumbled in your head. he’d let you look pretty doing nothing and then act like you’d ran a mile. he had been going above and beyond recently, and you couldn’t help but yearn for him constantly.

he’d always been so good to you, with the exception of the one thing that ultimately drove you apart, and you wanted to take him back so badly but the fear in your heart had your throat in a vice grip. you couldn’t bring yourself to explain how deeply the scars of insecurity ran in your very soul - you had been cheated on relentlessly before you met him, abused emotionally in ways that you couldn’t even begin to describe.

you were lost in your thoughts for what felt like minutes, but really only a matter of seconds before namjoon helped you up only for jin to continue his torment. it went on for much too long, and half an hour in, your entire body was burning and you were begging for a break.

you grumbled all the way to the main lobby of the gym, unscrewing your water bottle to fill it up at the station. you were muttering little things under your breath, nothing positive and perhaps all about the tall boy that was getting a real kick out of bullying you. you pressed the cold water button only for the machine to do nothing. again, you pressed but again, nothing. you exhaled deeply before abusing the button, clicking over and over and over.

a hand darted from behind you, flicking a switch from the corner of the machine before settling its thumb gently over your own, pressing the button.

you stilled, eyes widening and heart constricting. you’d recognise those tattoos from anywhere. veiny, bulky arms and heat radiating from behind you, you could feel your back come into contact with a solid chest, bodies slyly pressed together as you watched water pour.

“what’s got you so worked up, baby?” jungkook asked you, head lowering so his cheek lightly grazed yours.

you weren’t breathing, and your hands were shaky. your eyes darted to face him, head slowly moving so your eyes connected as your thumbs lifted off of the button. “what are you doing here?” you whispered up at him.

he grinned. “working out, isn’t that what you usually do at the gym?”

you nodded dumbly.

“so tell me, what’s wrong? you only mumble like that when someone’s annoyed you.”

bla bla bla, you thought, as your eyes flickered down to his chest. so wide, so strong - had his arms gotten bigger? his biceps were insane, you kind of wanted him to put you in a headlock, but you knew that wasn’t your brain talking but more so your puss-..

“y/n?” he murmured, snapping you out of your gaze. you gasped a little, lips parted and eyes connecting back with his. you willed your brain to start working again.

“jin’s being mean to me. he’s made me do so much, and my arms are so tired, and you know i get tired, and now he wants me to do more, says we have so many things left but i don’t wanna do it.” you rambled, complaining up at him desperately the second your previous annoyance came to mind.

“my pretty baby, just wanna sit around hm?” he cooed down at you and you couldn’t help but nod, relishing in the attention he was giving you. “want me to tell him? want me to make sure he doesn’t make you do anymore?”

you nodded eagerly again, eyes wide and lips parting.

jungkook swore he could have screamed then and there. here you were, the love of his life, in the cutest pink gym set he had ever seen - was this new? it had to be, he’d remember if you had worn this before, especially with the way it made you look. fuck, he had been staring for a solid 2 minutes before approaching you, fighting off a boner like a stupid teenager.

you were both stood so close together, and despite not explicitly touching, you kept brushing into each other. “wanna help me with my workout?” he asked you, head dipping so his face was closer to yours.

you knew what that meant. you’d get to lounge around whilst he worked hard, your favourite pass time. that way he could keep an eye on you, keep you company whilst you could do whatever you wanted. what more could a girl want?

you found yourself nodding, agreeing instantly with a hidden grin. you couldn’t help it, how giddy you felt as you followed him back into the gym, barely containing your excitement once you heard jin groan out loud.

“no way, jungkook, she’s been asking me to do this for months and now she’s chickening out?” he complained, hands on his hips.

“you’re going too hard on her.” he shrugged, feeling smug knowing you were behind him.

“that’s literally the whole point.” jin groaned whilst namjoon laughed, continuing his workout. “don’t ask me again, y/nnie, this is so unfair!”

you practically squealed inside your head as jungkook led you to the other side of the gym where he wanted to begin his work out, watching you amused as you took a seat on the pile of mats just next to him.

the best 45 minutes were a battle between you and him, constant looks being exchanged and wandering eyes. he’d looked more times at your ass today then in the past 6 months combined which was no easy feat, and it made you want to scream. you knew he was attracted to you, but seeing him being so open about it was something that made you want to fall back into his arms immediately.

the tension was high and certainly rising, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it. not when the tight compression shirt was stretched so deliciously over his chest and you were growing hotter and hotter just staring at him.

“you okay?” he asked as he reached over beside you to have a sip of his water, fingers brushing over your hip.

“mhm.” you nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip. how do you tell your ex you broke up with that’s actively trying to get you back that his mere existence was making you horny? difficult.

jungkook’s eyebrow raised. you were being squirmy, and he wasn’t an idiot, usually your shared gym sessions ended up with you folded in bed whilst he pounded into you. it didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were thinking or how he was making you feel.

“you sure, pretty girl?” he asked again, suddenly stepping close to you, your legs parting slightly to let him stand in between them as your breath hitched, gaze looking up.

you flushed bright pink, allowing a smirk to form on his face nice and wide. he chuckled quietly to himself before stepping away, shaking his head.

his plan was working.

——

maybe this wasn’t a good idea, you couldn’t really tell but you had already committed. you all hadn’t been together as a group in a while, considering the situation between you and jungkook, but as it was very clearly on the mend, you were all gathered at hoseok’s house for drinks.

some were fiddling with the music, others chatting, some eating and you? you were making out with jungkook.

you had no idea how it happened, and quite frankly, you didn’t care if you were going to regret this later.

you had walked in, late due to a hold up from work, half in tears and half just defeated. everyone was already drinking and eating so the sight of you made everyone jump up in alert, demanding to know why you were so upset. jungkook stood at the forefront, practically overflowing in anger at the thought of someone upsetting you.

“my manager shouted at me for a solid ten minutes over something i didn’t even do.” you tearily exclaimed to them all whilst hoseok poured you a glass of wine. “stupid prick in the next cubicle put his mistakes on me and now i have a disciplinary meeting next week to go over it, and it’s not like anyone will stick up for me.”

“what's his name?” jungkook demanded, chest heaving a little. you looked up through your tears and shook your head. “you can’t do anything, kookie, they’re already angry.”

hearing you use his nickname for the first time in months was the cold water needed to shock his system. he blinked rapidly at you whilst yejin cradled you, jimin cooing and taehyung feeding you little pretzel bites he had made.

you sat on the couch with everyone while they tried to uplift your mood whilst jungkook sulked, thinking of all the ways he was going to burn that building to the ground. he’d never let you work there again, not if they were bullying you - he’d let you live your princess dreams, do whatever you want, what did you need to work for anyway? he was here, he wanted to provide for you, his money belonged to you, as did every other inch of him.

“why don’t you take her upstairs for a bit, just make sure she’s okay properly.” hoseok suggested to him quietly, which had him nodding in agreement.

he walked over to you with an extended hand, and through your sniffles, you took it without even thinking. the innocent physical contact was muddling your brain, but just the feel of him was enough to ground you as he slowly lead you upstairs until you were both in hoseok’s room.

“you okay, pretty?”

you looked up at jungkook as you took a seat on his bed, sniffling a little as you wiped the makeup from under your eyes. “yeah, i’m sorry i’m so weepy all the time.”

he tutted, taking a seat next to you before replacing your fingers with his own, swiping your tears and any residue under your eyes. “never have to apologise about that, not your fault people have been mean to you.”

you sniffled again, eyes watching him as his own dragged over every inch of your face. so beautiful, he thought. he couldn’t believe he had the pleasure of even looking at you, never mind being in your presence.

“want me to sort this for you, baby? swear, i’ll kill him.” he cooed at you. his words should have scared you, but all they did was make you pool between your legs. “never let him look at you ever again, my pretty girl. can’t believe they made you cry.”

you shuffled closer to him, enjoying both the comfort and attention he was giving you. so protective and caring, he always made you feel so safe, never even had to ask, it was just his default setting.

“no kookie, it’s fine. they’ll probably fire me over this but it’s okay, maybe that’s for the best anyway.” you whimpered, causing him to dart his arms around you immediately and bring you tightly to him.

this was the most contact you both had shared in what felt like eons, you hadn’t been in his arms like this since he rocked up to yejin’s house whilst you cried. the similarities were uncanny, you were a sniffling mess right now too but the air between you felt charged. you missed him, god you missed him so much and you wanted to tell him, but you weren’t sure how.

“missed you calling me that.” he sighed, head dropping to yours. “i’m your kookie right?”

your eyes were connected and your noses were brushing against eachother. he sounded almost whiny, as if begging to hear your response - he too wanted the reassurance he had been giving you happily. you couldn’t help it, hearing him practically beg for your acknowledgment whilst being so overprotective, your mind simply went blank. you were too fuzzy to think, which is why you couldn’t blame yourself when you smashed your lips onto his.

the force had him pushed back slightly, as his brain rang alarm bells in confusion as to what was happening. it didn’t take long though, jungkook grabbing the back of your head and matching your movements, lips moving into one, relearning what it means to come home.

he pulled you up so you were sitting on his lap, both of your feet over in one direction as he kissed you deeply, taking control of the kiss like he used to. you missed this beyond anything, you had no idea how to convey it and so you let your actions do the speaking, hands pulling his hair and fingers curling around every strand.

he groaned into your mouth, tongue slipping against your own as they fought for dominance. you were both moaning and whimpering whilst kissing one another, neither wanting to be the first to pull away and certainly not the first to end such a paramount moment between you both.

in the end, it was you who pulled back first for air. you panted lightly, eyes wide and lips swollen as you stared right at him. he looked similar, though his eyes kept flickering back to your mouth, as though he wasn’t done.

“fuck. can’t tell you how much i’ve missed that.” he confessed, hand still on the back of your head whilst the other held the side of your thigh, pulling you tight to him.

“me too.” you whispered, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, before leaning in for another kiss that he gave enthusiastically.

——

you were going to do it. you were gonna be brave and you were finally going to do it. or maybe you weren’t, you had no clue, maybe this was a bad idea.

“i can literally hear your thoughts from here.” taehyung sang, circling around you as you both walked to jungkook’s tattoo shop.

he had picked you up from work, after your horrible disciplinary. though you weren’t fired, you were pretty certain you were going to hand in your notice tomorrow - you felt horrible and you only wanted one thing. jungkook.

you had come to the realisation pretty soon after your heated make out session that you wanted, no needed him back in your life properly. he clearly understood what he had done wasn’t right, and you trusted him - this was your kookie, the same man that worshiped the ground you walked on. you knew that over the past two months, he had been given a wake up call, you wouldn’t stand for someone not listening to your feelings and certainly not for someone who didn’t respect them.

you were sick of that horrible voice in the back of your head ridding you of joy, jungkook was everything you wanted and you knew he wanted you even more. enough of this, you thought. you wanted your man back. which is where taehyung came in, every time you second guessed yourself, he was ready to bully you right back on the right track.

it had been days of fear and uncertainty, letting that horrible traumatic part of your brain win over and over until he would snap you out of it. he was personally accompanying you to the parlour to make sure you wouldn’t chicken out, and you were grateful for it.

“what…what if this time apart has made him realise maybe i’m not what he needs?” you choked out, every horrible scenario coming into play as you neared the tattoo shop.

“now you’re just making things up.” he scoffed. “i bet jungkook has a diary where he writes your name in different sparkly pens.”

“shut up!”

“he’s in love with you, sickeningly so. and the worst thing is, you love him just as much!” he laughed, now approaching the shop. “so let’s go in, get your man back and then the two of you can stop the moping finally.”

you glared at him before you both entered. the first thing you noticed was jungkook, stood behind the reception desk with his arms crossed. his loose grey t-shirt suddenly appeared tight and the sight alone was enough to have your body yearn for him.

the second thing you noticed, however, was the pretty lady stood in front, twirling her hair with a tilt to her head. she was taller than you, her figure curvier and her clothes skimpier - she was beautiful and you could feel your heart was thumping as a result.

jungkook’s voice lulled you out of your deafening insecure thoughts. “i said no. if you want to get tatted, yoongi or jimin can do it. i take on select clients.”

“but jungkook, i want you! your instagram is the reason i booked my consultation in the first place, you’re so talented.” she purred. you knew she was flirting, she was being glaringly obvious and you felt rooted by the door, literally watching your worst nightmare take place.

upon further inspection, you knew who this girl was. she was one of the regulars, one who would come in and get little tattoos genuinely because she fancied jungkook as opposed to wanting to get them because she liked them. you had told him how uncomfortable it made you when she consistently asked to get them in odd spots on her body, forcing him to touch her in ways that you knew were premeditated.

you tried to turn and leave, not being able to stomach what you were watching but taehyung grabbed your hand, locking your fingers and rooting you in place. he shook his head. you needed to watch this, this was the only way you would get confirmation for yourself.

“no.” jungkook simply, and plainly said, not even looking at her but instead the laptop screen. “wednesday with jimin or we’ve got friday with yoongi at 3?”

she blinked, mouth slightly agape. “why can’t you do it?”

“because i don’t want to.”

you couldn’t believe your ears, you were certain jungkook hadn’t even seen you considering the position you were in was away from his gaze. your heart was beating so loudly, the one thing you worried about most and he was comforting you in your absence. you never wanted him to hurt his own business, you just wanted him to understand the clear motives in front of him and he was.

her eyebrows furrowed, a well manicured hand tapping on the table. “i pay good money for you, jungkookie, you’re my artist, aren’t we friends?”

jungkook finally looked up, with narrowed eyes and a blank expression. “you were my client and i’m passing you along to either yoongi or jimin. they were both trained by me, and are honestly better than i am so i’m not sure what the hold up is. wednesday jimin or friday yoongi?”

she huffed before embarrassedly agreeing to her friday slot, jungkook remaining polite but reserved as he booked that in for her. once done, she turned around to leave, eyes narrowing deeply at you on her way out.

“atta boy.” taehyung smirked, walking in properly ahead of you to pat jungkook on the shoulder. he startled, looking up at the boy that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, confused.

taehyung grinned, wide and cheeky. “brought a friend. says she has something to tell you.”

jungkook’s eyebrows narrowed before stepping out and heading in the direction of the door, finally seeing you stood there with big watery eyes.

you looked so cute. he loved when you wore this particular shirt, pretty baby pink, it made you look adorable and he swore it drove him insane. his face changed immediately upon seeing you, grin forming and eyes growing bright - every horrible comment and the nasty voice in your head completely disappeared at the mere sight of him.

“hi baby, how did the meeting go? you okay?” he asked, approaching you. he wanted nothing more than to pull you in and embrace you but after the kiss, things had gotten slightly awkward and he wasn’t sure what would make you uncomfortable.

you simply blinked up at him, unable to speak. taehyung giggled from where he was, perching on the receptionist seat with his feet up on the table. “take her to your room, jungkook.”

although confused, he did exactly that, leading you inside with his hand faintly on your back. he watched as you took a seat on the tattoo bed, the seat sitting at a 90 degree angle so you rested your back against it whilst you pulled down your skirt. jungkook liked the sight of your legs, very very much.

“what’s wrong pretty girl, tell me what happened.” he all but cooed at you, closing the door behind him before grabbing his stool and sitting beside you, hand next to your leg although not touching.

“i didn’t get fired but..but i’m gonna quit, don’t like it there anymore..” you muttered out. “but that’s not why i’m here.”

he tilted his head, big confused pout on his face that you just wanted to kiss away. “i watched you.” you whispered at him, biting your lip to stop it quivering. “talking to her just now..”

jungkook blinked up at you in surprise, a flush of pink forming on his face. he nodded slightly, inching closer to you before hesitantly taking a hand of yours in his own. “i want you to know i’m listening to you, i heard what you said and i understand what you feel. i’ll do whatever i can both in front of you and in your absence. i’m so sorry it had to happen this way, but i’m not giving up.”

his little monologue left him feeling lighter, and left you teary eyed. you wanted to pull his hair out of pure untamed want, you missed him so much and yet he was right there.

“i know kookie.” you gently assured. “you’re so good to me, you..you don’t have a stubborn streak in your body and i just. i miss you so much.” you confessed.

jungkook’s eyes widened upon realisation of what was happening. “i’m right here baby. i’m right here, i’ll spend forever waiting for you, you know that.” he promised, taking your other hand and pulling them to his lips to leave gentle kisses.

you nodded, holding in your tears. “don’t want you to wait anymore, just want you properly. want it all back.”

jungkook stood up at your words, audibly letting out a shaky exhale before grabbing your face in his hands. “yeah?” he asked, vulnerability clear as day. “wanna be yours again, y/n, i’ll do anything. just..just let me okay? swear to god i’ll give you the world.”

you laughed, shaky. “you already do.” you sniffled, tears now streaming. your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him in close. “you’re mine and..and i’m yours.”

he nodded at you, smile forming wide. he grabbed you and picked you up, embracing you tightly with his hand on the back of your head. you were now perched in his lap, wrapped up entirely in the warmth of the man you loved and the man who loved you more - this was home.

he couldn’t help himself, embracing you before looking down at you, his own hands shaking. “i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.” your teary eyes met his, laughing quietly before you pressed your lips to his in response, showcasing how much you loved him.

jungkook let you reposition yourself so you were straddling him, kissing him sweetly. your lips moved in unison as did your hands, embracing every inch of one another as though it was the first time relearning one another and in some ways, it was. this felt right, both spiritually and physically. you were it for him, and he for you; two soulmates intertwined finally finding their way back to each other.

it didn’t take long for the kiss to grow heated. your hands were snaked into his air as his tongue entered your mouth, instantly exploring every inch whilst his own hands found refuge on your waist, perhaps lower than what was deemed appropriate. you were panting, letting out little noises as he kissed you deeply and they were driving him insane.

you both pulled away for breath, a small string of saliva separating from the two of you that had you tightening your thighs. just looking at him, droopy eyed and panting was enough to drive you insane. “jungkook, lock the door.”

he didn’t need to be told twice, positioning you back onto the little tattoo bed before doing exactly that. he knew what that meant, he knew what you were asking him to do and he was ready.

he turned back around to face you, finding you there with little whispers of hair falling in your face whilst your skirt had ridden up to your thighs making him audibly groan. “love you so much baby, but if i go another fucking day without tasting you i might die.”

you flushed bright pink. there were two certain things in your relationship. jungkook loved you and jungkook loved eating you out, those two things were pretty obvious from the second you started your relationship with him and rarely did a day go by without his head in between your legs in some capacity. the past 3 months had been torture.

he wasted no time, sauntering over to you and grabbing your thighs slightly roughly. he pulled up your skirt even further to find the pretty pink lace detailing covering your core which had his cock straining in his trousers immediately. “do you like it?” you asked sweetly, spreading your legs for him. “bought this the other day, thought of you.”

he closed his eyes at your words, before leaving a small bite mark on the inside of your thigh as a response. “fucking love it.” he pushed his nose to your core immediately, rubbing it over your clothed clit as he breathed in your scent making you squeak in embarrassment. you couldn’t stop him though, he was finally getting what he needed the most.

jungkook pushed your panties to the side before instantly diving in. licks, sucks and bites - he ate you out anomalistically. he wasted no time whatsoever, death grip on your thighs as he made love to your pussy who drank in every bit of attention it got.

you were half broken moans and half squeaks, to which he left a rough little spank on your ass to remind you to be quiet. he had clients in the other room, and as much as he wanted you to be as loud as possible, the possessive part of his brain wanted it to be for him and him alone.

“taste so good, y/n. can’t believe it’s been so long.” he growled, inserting a finger slowly so he could open you up. “this poor pussy, it belongs to me doesn’t it? hm? mine to lick and fuck, all mine.”

you nodded, hand over your mouth desperately to muffle your moans as your back arched off of the table. “all yours, missed you so much, kookie. my fingers didn’t feel enough.”

his brain nearly malfunctioned at the thought of you touching yourself, trying to replicate the feeling he had made a custom for you. it wasn’t long until he inserted another, sucking on your clit harshly.

pumping his fingers into you, he was being gentle at first but with the way you were grinding on then, he knew you wanted it hard. “can’t think unless i’m being rough with you, hm? can’t think unless i’m breaking you.”

your eyes tightened shut in what should have been shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything other than pleasure that you had robbed yourself of for months.

“jungkook..” you moaned out, back arching as a familiar tidal wave began to rise in your stomach, your hands tightening in his now messy hair.

he could see all the tell tale signs. your thighs were shaking, you were grinding harder on him making him pump rougher, and your big eyes were closed shut. he had missed this more than anything.

moments later, you squeaked loudly as your orgasm rushed over you, your hips raising. jungkook placed his free hand on your stomach, forcing you down as he ate you out through your high, amplifying the pleasure as much as physically possible.

you could have sworn your vision had gone black with the way it hit you so hard, and by the time you had come to your senses, jungkook was stood in front of you, sucking on his fingers whilst looking down at you.

you reached for him, about to kiss the smug smirk off of him before the door knocked. you both stilled.

“jungkook, you have a client in 30 okay?” yoongi called out, completely oblivious as to what was happening. “we’re all gonna head out for lunch so we’ll be back in an hour.”

the tatted boy shouted in approval, before turning back to you with a wider smirk than before. this meant you were alone for the next half hour and the things he wanted to do to you were unheard of, and frankly he couldn’t wait.

you were worse. you grabbed him by his t-shirt, pulling him closer to you despite your shaking legs and unbuttoning his jeans. “don’t wanna wait anymore, need you to fuck me.”

jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. in moments, he found himself pulling down both his boxers and jeans, freeing his thick cock much to your delight. you let out a little sigh of content; your hand wrapping around it and pumping - he was both long in length and thick in size, it had taken weeks to get him properly inside you when you had first met but then it had become a regular occurrence.

you couldn’t remember a time in your relationship where he wasn’t deep inside you, regardless of whether you guys were happy or in arguments - it always ended with you unable to walk and you couldn’t wait.

he adjusted the bed so the seat was slightly lowered, making it more comfortable for you. he watched as you unbuttoned your shirt, letting your breasts peak through whilst you spread your legs for him, your lace panties still pushed to the side.

there was something so erotic about having you fully dressed but still exposed, and driving him out of his mind. he pumped himself a few times before slapping his cock onto your messy pussy, collecting as much slick as he could. he began thrusting on top of it, catching your clit a few times which had you both audibly moaning.

soon later, he positioned himself at your entrance and began pushing in. it took longer than expected to fully be inside of you, which in hindsight was obvious due to the distance shared between you and his sheer size, but it wasn’t long until you were a shaking mess.

he had been gentle at first, truly. he always tried to be, wanted to treat you like a princess and worship you the way you deserved but you were a vixen - you had no desire to be treated softly when he was already so deep inside of you.

this lead to you both now, jungkook pounding into you roughly whilst you cried out, leaving scratch marks all over his back, chest and arms. he was leaving hickeys all over your neck, claiming you for the world to see.

“so fucking tight.” he growled out, your legs now up on his shoulders as he gripped your thighs. “this pussy has missed me, right baby? missed being ruined every night, promise i won’t ever let you go. not ever.”

you were babbling, incoherent. your brain wasn’t working, all it could think of was how good you felt, how good it felt to have jungkook with you again, entirely yours. how did you ever walk away to begin with, especially when he was capable of fucking you so good.

“love you, love you so much.” you whimpered out, nails digging into his arms as you all but sobbed at the feeling.

“fuck, i love you so much more my sweet girl.” he promised, hand slipping down to cup your throat in a tight grip. “love how you make me feel, love how good you are all the time. the perfect girl, could never ask for anything more.”

his words were so sweet and yet his actions were pure sin. you couldn’t think when he was pounding into you so meanly, cupping your throat in a choke, slowly cutting off your breath which only heightened the feelings inside of you.

soon, he was pulling away, positioning you so you were now on all fours with your pretty ass in the air. he gave it a few hard spanks before thrusting in once more and continuing his bruising pace.

he pushed and pushed, so that his entire body was practically covering your own whilst he pounded into you from behind, your little face muffled into the small cosy pillow he had placed for your comfort.

“you don’t know what you do to me, y/n.” he grated out. “i can’t think unless it’s about you. always on my mind. just wanna make you happy, baby, i’d burn this fucking place to the ground if you asked me to.”

you moaned loud at the thought, your legs shaking. you knew he was obsessive, especially when it came to you and it made your ego skyrocket to have a man like jungkook on his knees for you. it felt so good to be loved openly, directly, without having to question anything.

“i love you, kookie.” you whimpered out. “want everything with you, want you to be mine forever.”

he laughed humourlessly, his fingers finding your clit to rub harsh circles. “i love you more sweet girl. i’m all yours, gonna fucking marry you soon, you hear me? is that what you want? i have a ring all picked out and waiting for you, gonna make you my wife.”

your orgasm hit you immediately, with jungkook exclaiming a loud oh fuck at the feeling of you growing incredibly tighter. his words were enough to drive you over the edge, squealing loudly as your body shook in his arms, waves of pleasure rocking you over and over.

he followed immediately, giving you one last bruising thrust before cumming deep inside of you.

the feeling was like nothing other, the sensation of him twitching whilst you both came down from your highs shaking, his hands gripping your body tightly whilst your hands gripped the tattooing bed with all of your might.

soon, he began pulling out of you, wincing from overstimulation. he pulled your panties back over your ruined pussy, patting it lightly to make sure his cum remained inside whilst pulling down your cute little skirt.

“my pretty girl. quit your job tomorrow, you don’t have to work if you don’t want to, i’ll support us both.”

you couldn’t help the goofy little grin that began to form on your face as he took care of you, the two of you composing each other whilst you waited for his client to arrive. “yeah? you’re gonna pay for my lifestyle?” you teased, jokingly.

“don’t make me propose to you in my tattoo shop.” he smirked, pulling at your hand so it was up to his mouth, leaving pepper kisses as your cheeks flushed pink and eyes widened. “are..are you being serious?”

jungkook scoffed. “i’ve had that ring on hold for a year now, just wanted to make sure you were ready.” he sat back on his stool, whilst picking you up and holding you to his chest. “gonna make sure you never have to worry about a thing ever again.” he grinned.

you sat, in his arms, eyes closed with a smile growing by the minute. jungkook, your past, present and future - the man that would never let you down.

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nyeddleblog · 2 days ago

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SAW THAT YOU CANNOT GET BOB OUT OF YOUR HEAD MAY I REQUEST A MEET CUTE FIC WHERE READER IS A GIRLBOSS CORPORATE GIRLIE AND BOB IS WELL...BOB

Yes, but since I'm at work in a 10 hour shift, we'll forget about the cutesy aesthetic shit I usually do for my fics.

Warnings: Female presenting reader, use of reality warping powers, in a probably inaccurate way, written from my phone and not proof read.

You liked your job. Well, kind of. You liked getting paid for something that you actually did pretty well, and you liked that you could live from it. Yeah, it was a annoying having to walk around New York City taking care that your tights weren't ripped or that your high heels wouldn't give out for the next few blocks. Skirt always impecable, just below the knee. Blouse silky and not revealing too much cleavage. But the paycheck... Oh, the paycheck. And your boss was an okay guy!

You've dealt with all kinds of people before; the annoying ones, the narcisistic ones, the perverts... For someone your age, it was difficult to achieve the tranquility you had.

So you entered the coffee shop, mindlessly looking through your phone. It was a bit more expensive than others, usually empty around this hour. The cashier gave you a nod, urging you to just take a seat. You had paid a bit extra last time, since they didn't have any change; that meant, coffee was on the house. It made you smile, making a mental note to tip them well when you left.

Your heels guided you through the usual path, too invested on the screen to look up as you sat down. Your boss wanted something urgently, something you could actually do through your phone. It took you around five minutes to write down the email you needed to send to an investor, and another one to communicate that it was done. Only then, you looked up.

There was a guy sitting there. Considering his half eaten muffin and the stains on his cup, he had been sitting there before you even arrived. And he looked so troubled too, face flushed as he tried his best not to look at you. You blushed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry—"

But you looked around and frowned. This was usually where you sat and it shouldn't have mattered if it weren't for the amount of people around. Why the fuck was it so full? This had never happened before.

Your eyes reached a table were one of your colleagues sat. You wrinkled your nose; he was probably going to talk to you about work, so your eyes went back to the guy in front of you, softening.

"Is it okay if I stay here? If only until they bring me my coffee, then I can just take it to go."

He looked at you then, pink cheeks and a bit unsure if you were talking to him. You maintained eye contact, an easy smile on your lips as you awaited his answer.

"Y-yeah, no... No problem"

Your smile widened then, but you didn't say more. You knew how annoying it was when someone talked to you while you were minding your own business. It was the reason why you stayed there and didn't go to your colleague's table, after all.

Then the usual waitress brought you your coffee, in a mug. You let out an apologetic sigh, knowing that you'd have to ask her if she could change it to a plastic cup, probably ruining all of the barista's work in the process, but right before you spoke, he interrupted you.

"It's... It's okay. You don't need to, uh, leave." It came out awkwardly, almost strangled. The waitress looked at the both of you with a smile as she came back behind the counter, absent-minded of the position she just put the both of you in, "I don't mind the company. I'm about to finish anyways."

"Oh, well thank you" you answered politely. He truly didn't seem like he was about to finish, considering how slowly he was eating his muffin. And he was kind of cute, you realized. Messy brown hair, and adorable blue eyes. But you wouldn't stare.

You let your coffee air for a little bit, not wanting to burn your tongue. He was reading a book, you noticed; he looked invested. It was probably why he didn't mind your presence, despite being an obviously shy person. His fingers picking at the muffin and slowly dragging the bite into his mouth.

You brought the mug to your lips as you stared at the pastry. You should have asked for one of those, really, it looked tasty. Red velvet, your favorite, fuck. You were oggling at the muffin then, drinking your coffee and slowly zoning out. So many things to do, the meeting that afternoon. And tomorrow, too. Oh, how you hated meetings.

Your eyes slowly brought you back to reality as they slowly came up to his face. He was staring at you, probably because you were pondering to the reality where his muffin was yours. Either way, it startled you and a small drop of coffee fell into your impeccably white blouse.

Shit.

You let the mug on the table immediately, assessing the damage. It expanded quickly on the collar, leaving an ugly stain that you wouldn't be able to get rid of before the meeting. You groaned dramatically, covering your face with your hands.

It had to be the meeting with the one investor that always stared at your tits. That one unfiltered asshole that fucking humilliated women when they had chipped nails or a run on their stockings.

He'll say something, and you'll answer, and he'll find you rude, and then you'll show him how rude you can actually be and... You'll lose your job.

"They say putting some sugar on it may help get rid of the stain" he stuttered out, in front of you. You frowned, almost forgetting that he was still there in the first place and barely understanding what he was talking about.

"What?"

"T-The stain..." He pointed at your collar with a packet of sugar in his hand. Your frown losened as he left it on the table, near enough for you to reach, "It may be worth a shot?"

"It may be" you repeated in a murmur, staring down at the packet.

It sounded like bullshit, but you were desperate and the sugar couldn't possibly make it worse than it already was, so you opened the packet and poured it on the stain, looking defeated as it clinged to it. You rubbed it for a few seconds, unable to see how the eyes of the man in front of you briefly lit up bright golden. Then, the sugar turned brown and you wiped it away, amazed by the result.

"Hey, it worked!" you exclaimed in excitement, looking up at him, "I can't believe it!"

Your bright smile made his cheeks heat up, and he avoided your eyes as he gave you a sheepish smile back, shrugging.

"That was ama...! What was your name?" you interrupted yourself to ask. As he replied, you continued "That was amazing, Bob, truly. You saved my job and made my day!"

"I-It's nothing."

You braced yourself, for what you were about to say, unable to hide the smile of awe in your lips, "Well, Bob. It's everything to me," Maybe a bit of an exaggeration, you were dramatic like that, but it was honest nonetheless "So, could I buy you a muffin sometime?"

His pink cheeks turned red as he stuttered over his reply, and by the time you finished your coffee, his number was already saved in your phone.

You stood up, giving him sweet smile and putting the promised tip in the jar before leaving.

He stared at you until you were out of view and you didn't know why, but it made your heart beat a tiny bit faster.

#marvel #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts #bob reynolds angst #bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds smut #bob reynolds #sentry #sentry x reader #void #void x reader

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red5cars · 2 days ago

Text

shepherd's pie - the meeting

soap x f!reader tags: mentions of religion and purity culture (purity rings), lighthearted, soap being an ass an: been thinking of johnny tormenting his poor religious neighbor and this came to be. moreso for fun (a rarity). enjoy!

imagine moving across the world for your faith. maybe that wasn't the entire reason but the little town you picked were filled with people like you.

devout, condescending, catholics.

it was different, but familiar, home away from home. at the very least, you wouldn't feel out of place.

or so you thought.

the apartment was.. quaint, to say the least.

nothing outlandish considering the budget you were working with, but it seemed it was made with the intention of hosting one person and one person only.

though, who were you to complain about one of god's gifts? (or rather, your pastor's connections if you'd like to get specific)

moving to a different country is no easy or cheap feat, packing up your life to start anew in a place where no one knows you.

in truth, you were aching to get away. there was nothing wrong with the town you originated from, all the citizens sweet and southern, but static. unchanging in a world that was known for nothing but change.

it was like a broken record, interacting with the same people day in and day out. a change of scenery was in order the moment you realized you could predict miss julianne's answer to "what did you do this weekend"?

prophetic gifts or not, staying there offered nothing but stale comfort. and you needed, deserved something fresh.

which lead you here; standing in the middle of an unfurnished, off-white, cramped flat. aka, your new home.

well, you need to make it feel like home first.

knock knock.

before you can even start sifting through boxes, a firm knock on the door interrupts you. strange, you're positive the moving company got everything (if they didn't, it's no big deal. you had to downsize a considerable amount for the move), so it could just be someone knocking on the wrong door.

you chalk it up to just that, moving back to the task at hand. grabbing your key, lining it up with the edge of the tape before digging it in and-

knock knock knock.

okay, maybe they have the right door.

the knocks continue, becoming quicker in succession as you make your way to the door. your fingers pinch the lock, taking a deep breath before twisting it and then the doorknob.

"'bout time ye opened up th' door, makin' me wait till fuckin' christ- …mas.."

a man, with the most obscene haircut you've ever saw, stands in front of you. for a moment, it seemed every bone in his body had nothing but hate. that is, till he laid his eyes on you, disappearing and leaving confusion in it's absence.

"..ye're not mitch," he says, looking you up and down, deciding if you're real or not.

in response, you shake your head, offering up a soft smile, "no, i'm not. i'm actually the new tenant, and you?"

he stares at you for a minute longer, darting between your face and the space behind you. it's almost uncomfortable how long it takes for him to process this information but the moment he does, his lips curl upwards, body leaning against the frame.

"new tenant?" he repeats, watching you nod your head in confirmation, "well, didnae ken mitch left his place ta such a bonnie thing," he sucks his teeth in after, eyes roving over your form in a different way. secular, sensual, words that begin with 's'.

strange and discomforting flattery aside, you've only just met the man. may as well give him the benefit of the doubt.

you hope he doesn't notice the slight strain in your smile, "yes i actually just moved in this morning." you give him your name, which he immediately tries on his lips. "bi' foreign," he says, and you can only nod in agreement.

"and you are-" he hardly gives you a chance to ask, reaching out and taking your hand in his. he shakes it enthusiastically, the force of his movement making you follow along. whatever benefit you gave him is long forgotten now, as well is the appropriate amount of time for strangers to make physical contact.

"johnny, but a'body calls me th' most braw jim ye'll ever meet," while not the most clear, his cocky attitude communicates enough. to think one of the first people you meet in this apparently "holy" town seems anything but.

the smile on your face becomes harder to maintain, especially when he has not let go of your hand. desperate to get away, you begin to slip your hand out of his, the other pushing on your door, "well, it was nice meeting you, johnny, but i'm a bit busy so if you'll excuse me," you manage to retract your hand completely from his grasp, only needing to close the door and you'll be rid of him.

unfortunately, it isn't that easy.

it happens in a blur, johnny grabbing your hand again, not to shake, but to examine. his sudden movement takes you by surprise, and you can no longer maintain pleasantries with this brute, "johnny!"

"this a purity ring?" he asks abruptly, turning your hand over in his, steel blue eyes honed in on the metallic band on your left finger.

his question stuns you. this.. caveman, who has done nothing but eye you, squeeze your hand, and just make you uncomfortable is now brushing his thumb over the engravement of Matthew 5:8 on your purity ring, which you didn't even expect him to know what it is!

then again, he has done nothing but subvert your expectations since meeting him five minutes ago.

rather than a simple slip, you go ahead and yank your hand away, cradling it in it's partner, "yes.. why?" it's like soothing a burn, the memory of his skin still hot on yours.

his eyes are still glued to your ring, slowly ascending to meet your gaze. in a way, it's intense, holding all of your attention. then, he eases it by breaking into a simple smile, "well, didnae take ye for a religious hen, bonnie. i myself am a believer," his hand moves to his shirt, fishing out a necklace from beneath the collar. no way, he can't, it-

sure enough, dangling from his gold chain is a dainty cross.

"..oh," it should reassure you, but does anything but.

johnny only nods, tucking it back under his shirt, "aye, nae as devout but i still partake every now an' then," he says, rambling a bit as you attempt to make sense of who the man before you really is.

"..got a purity ring myself," you tune back in when he says it, noting the way his smile has shifted back into a grin. you're tempted to say something in response, but nothing comes to mind, still reeling from the prior discovery.

"y'ken," his voice drops to a whisper, "i hav' it on me" it's like he's sharing a secret, the way he inches closer as he speaks.

your mouth remains shut but your eyes ask where is it? which makes him crack into a full grin.

he gets closer, a hairs breadth keeping you apart. johnny's hand reaches back out for your ringed one, stroking your finger as he tells you:

"well, had ta get it resized to fit 'round my cock."

it's the last straw, pulling yourself back and slamming the door shut on him. as you lean against the door, you can feel your heart pounding in your ears. oh gosh, this man, he's.. he's..

"nice t'meet ye, neighbor!"

he's the devil himself.

#sgt soap #soap x reader #tw religion #tw catholicism #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #reds writes

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clawsdevour · 20 hours ago

Text

red n lacy

wc: 1.8k content warning: established relationship, kuroo x reader, smut, fingering n eating, vaginal, not proofread

ゐ ˚ ◌ .

kuroo's one of many surprises—especially with his gifts. valentine’s day, you already know he doesn’t play around.

ding dong~

creaking open the door, the slim sliver of light peeking through and growing larger the moment you saw a pair of familiar eyes behind the thin wood that separated you from the outside.

it was no other than kuroo, your beloved boyfriend early in the morning, looking all cheeky and too happy... overall he's come over to celebrate the day of love with you.

looking behind the door, now you knew why. kuroo came over with your favorite flowers in hand and a little basket that consisted of your favorite snacks, a cute little animal plushie… and a wrapped present?

"oh tetsu, you're too sweet" you responded, his smile being too contagious.

kuroo giggled when you praised him for his kind gesture of love, kissing him on the lips to greet him and opening the door wider to invite him in.

as you’re setting the gifts on the table, kuroo fetches a little vase to grab some water for the flowers. when he’s finished putting the flowers in the vase full of water, he’s stepping closer to embrace you in a warm and tight hug from behind.

his large hands are gripping your waist nice and snuggly as your hands find his that lingers around your torso. looking up, he’s biting his bottom lip with his eyes slightly squinted.

“well..? Are you gonna open the little present i bought? it was hand picked by me,” kuroo says after landing a peck on your forehead, his arms making their way to hold onto your shoulders.

“if you let me go, maybe i will,” you laughed, obviously you still wanted to be in his arms despite how he put his arms down quite quickly which made you wonder what he really bought you if it was "hand-picked."

picking up the box, you’re shaking it—listening to figure out what type of gift could be in it. it was a slender thin box, there wasn’t much noise to make just from shaking it around.

tearing at the wrapping paper from the side, the box is a simple white box that was able to slide out. realizing this, you immediately slide it open.

kuroo’s watching with eagerness, full attention on you, waiting to see your reaction to what could be inside.

one quick movement, you exactly understand why he was acting so lovey-dovey and excited. your eyes are wide open in complete shock.

red stringy, lacy lingerie.

“soooo…. what do you think?” kuroo said behind you in a low and seductive tone to make his intentions extra clear.

“you are so devious” rolling your eyes with a cheeky smile on your face while you’re holding up the lingerie to inspect its flawlessly sewn details.

"shall i try it on?" you teased, walking with the box in hand to go change in your room.

kuroo doesn't say a thing but bites his lower lip in anticipation. he's already envisioned what you'd look like in it when he was shopping around, but now he gets to see the real deal. just thinking about it made his cock sprung and throb against his suffocating pants.

right when you finished putting the straps in the right place and taking a look in the mirror to make sure everything's hooked on, kuroo's knocking on your bedroom door in desperation. he needs to see you in this, at least that's what his cock's telling him.

"can I come in yettt..." kuroo's voice humming against the door in neediness, like a cat scratching the door waiting for its owner.

unlocking the door, this time his eyes are completely glowing in amazement. this was much better than his imagination, you just turned into his fantasy.

"holy shit. you're fucking gorgeous" were the only words Kuroo spurted out the moment his beady eyes laid on you.

all of the straps lay perfectly against your skin. the wired part of the bra gave you the right amount of cushion and support to hold up your breasts that screamed bombshell. the lace made it all the more arousing on kuroo's part as it hugged your hips just in the right areas, even the lower parts. All he wanted to do was tear it off of you in the moment.

"well, you picked the right pair" you said as you walked over to put your hands over his shoulders.

this was driving kuroo nuts. the intimate eye contact you two exchanged was more than he needed to know what was going to happen next as your lips already made the first move.

the kiss was sweet and so hot that it made you crazy. tou couldn't bring yourself to stop the whole time as you gave your whole being into it. kuroo wasn't playing either, he couldn't take himself off of you. as you're making out, he's fondling with your ass and making you step back till you reach the end of your bed.

his hands feel so good to the point it made your head spin, from your jaw to your semi-exposed breasts, waist and ass. kuroo's feral to the point he has to rip himself off of you to get a moment's fresh air as the air between you two was getting heated real quick.

during that time for a breather, his lips are still stuck onto you whether or not it was on your lips. kuroo's on your neck, leaving his marks on your skin that glowed against the red lingerie he picked. kuroo's kisses and pecks move lower as you watch in impatience.

on his knees as you sat in front of him, hands on your knees—spreading them open forcefully as you gasped breathlessly in excitement.

his thumb's on your little bud, swirling slow circles into the fabric that made you feel good but only to an extent. there he laid his hot mouth on your inner thighs, biting and leaving his traces that made you want to grab his messy head of hair.

you can't help but feel like you need more. lips pressed, lowering your hand, you used your fingers to move your panties to the side for him to have easier access to fulfill your lustful needs. there kuroo was making direct contact with your sopping cunt that's been leaking the moment you saw him appear at your door.

"ha.. you're too cute" kuroo chuckled before digging in which caused you to whimper as his hot tongue makes contact with your clit, also slipping in two fingers into your entrance.

kuroo's absolutely feasting down there, lapping and cleaning up all the juices you produced despite how all the friction and sensation made you even wetter. Not to mention how kuroo's long and thick fingers are making their way to find your sweet spot as your legs shake.

his other hand's working on the upper part of your body, feeling all your dimensions and soothing your poor and trembling body beneath him. you can't help but crave more of him.

"tetsuu.. i want you to put it inn" pouting as you pushed his head off of your cunt that was glistening in slick, the bottom half of his face covered in your essence.

"course i will babe" he huffed in confidence while licking his lips and fixed his hair.

his hot ass girlfriend being this needy in the red lacy underwear, pussy right in his face begging for him to put it in. what a sight.

getting up on his feet, kuroo unbuckles his belt while gazing at your half-lidded eyes and bare body that called out for his touch. his cock sprung out the moment he took off his pants, excited and eager to enter your plush and warm cunt. stroking it as he aligned himself with your slit, collecting your essence on himself for a smoother entrance before diving right in.

you're watching impatiently, placing your hands under his fitted black shirt that shows his lean stature. he's teasing you at this point, sliding his tip up and down your slit, feeling all over but not in you, rocking your hips to subside the horniness you felt.

"fuuuck, so tight" kuroo purred while his tip slid right in, making you moan upon entry while you gripped onto him.

"more tetsu.. put it all in" you whimpered as you helped him take off his shirt, showing his delicious body that made your mouth drool.

once kuroo was all in, he gradually got rougher and faster, giving you exactly what you needed to catch your release. kuroo did not play when it came to giving, as his hands had the tightest handle on your waist as he continuously thrust into your sopping cunt that wanted even him even more.

the skin on skin slapping made your bedroom echo throughout your moans that mixed in the air that smelled like sex. your two hot bodies melted together in the heat as you got fucked in many different positions that made you two go feral as if you were dogs in heat.

kuroo gave no mercy, as you begged for more. watching your tits bounce at high frequency in that red bra made his mouth drool even more as your cunt squeezed around his girth that pulsated in you. the heat absolutely pools in your nether regions and builds up the more he pounded into your sweet spot, making you scream his name in high pitch.

your back arched off the mattress, legs in the air shaking with ecstasy while kuroo's leaving his marks all over your body despite his cock bullying its way into you. hands around his broad shoulders while he's hovering over you, overstimulated with the crazy amount of stamina kuroo has to keep going.

"m'gonna cum t-tetsu" you babbled, resisting the unbearable pleasure to tell him.

"m'kay" his slightly swollen lips whispered in your ear before planting a kiss on your hot cheek.

his rhythm slowed down, pumping his cock slowly as he drowns you in his kisses waiting for you to cum. the change in pace made you feel the pleasure even more as he's rubbing all your sensitive points slowly. it was like a rope about to snap as you gasped when you reached your climax.

"you okay, babe?" taking his cock out that was completely covered in your milky essence.

nodding your head as grabbed him closer to kiss, he's stroking his dick to finish himself off. kuroo's kiss got sloppier the more he got closer, moving his lips down your jaw and away from your shining body.

you watched with sleepy eyes for him to cum as he progressively got faster until he shot out his thick and white seed onto you. his head snapped back, eyes shut, feeling all the sensations while releasing his load, covering your body that wore nothing but his red lingerie. looking back, he sees his mistake.

"shit, i'm sorry.. i just came all over the set i got you. i guess i'm gonna have to get you another one" kuroo chuckled tiredly.

masterlist here

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steviewashere · 3 days ago

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Not gonna make this into a full fic, I don't think, but here's a little something I was thinking of <3 Mild hurt, mostly comfort, and a lot of Eddie getting ready to jump some bones

Steve's upset—and he believes rightfully so. Today was the day for a little bit of a trim and clean up on his hair. He booked his appointment a couple weeks before, for early in the morning right before lunch, with the same stylist he's had since his junior year of high school; the same stylist his mom sees because they're connected at the hip over the meticulous care of their heads of hair. He isn't called 'The Hair' for nothing.

Except, when he walked right up to the front counter, said his name with a shiny, charming smile, and a twinkle in his eyes—

"I'm sorry, Cherry's not in today. Flu's running rampant through her household. Tellin' ya, honey, kids are germ magnets." And the receptionist had popped her gum, whipped her hair over her shoulder, bat her eyes. "But I could hand you over to Gina? She's well trusted around her, real close with Cherry and her clients."

Of course, panicked to the soles of his shoes, Steve had blindly accepted the pass over. He thought it wouldn't be too much of a change. He thought that he could trust another pair of scissors. Well...no dice, apparently.

It's supposed to be the same thing he gets every single time. A clipping of Patrick Swayze from one of those tweeny girl magazines—he had stolen it from Erica, thank you very much—and maybe it's not supposed to be an exact replica to his gorgeous head of hair, but at least something similar. Maybe a little longer in the back, more of a swoop in the front.

Except, when he catches wind of himself in the mirror at the end of his appointment—Christ, I look like fucking Kurt Russell. He didn't even think his hair had grown out that long. Especially not Escape From New York long.

He smiles, words bit behind his teeth, and tips his normal amount. Pays for it in full without a single damn complaint. Even though he nearly bursts into tears when he gets to his car. And then, even worse, when he realizes he has to walk back through the front door of the apartment he shares with Eddie and look his boyfriend dead in the eyes. But he does so begrudgingly, every step as if it's his last.

When he opens the door, Eddie's already standing there, big grin on his face, eyes alight. "Did you get exactly what you"—

"They fucked up my hair, Eds! My hair!"

Eddie tilts his head and purses his lips, assessing the damage. "It doesn't look bad, sweetheart. Maybe a little more...more free and flowing than you prefer, but not fucked up levels of messed up."

He steps inside with a ginger door shut behind him. Doesn't want to be caught in full throttle tears on his doormat. His eyes get a little watery the longer Eddie stares at him. "But I look like fuckin' Kurt Russell, not Patrick Swayze," Steve pouts.

"Yeah, that didn't give you what you wanted exactly. But, baby, my sunshine—you really think you look awful? You know how handsome Kurt is? This whole look isn't a step down at all! It suits you pretty well!" Eddie steps towards Steve, shoving forward to paw through the waves and bends of his hair, scrunching it and viewing. "Put a little bit of mousse in it...maybe a tad of your hairspray? We could get this look elevated in a matter of seconds, make you look like a movie star down to the messy forehead strand on a red carpet."

Steve sniffs. Eyes big on Eddie's face—Eddie who isn't laughing or trying to bite back a giggle or open to make fun of it all. Just...just Eddie admiring. "You think I look handsome like this?"

"I think you're a beautiful babe with a strong mane of hair and you wear fine things well." Eddie shakes his fingers through the hair, messing with it until it falls mussed. "Like a big shot action star. Swear on it. And—hey! You know what?"

"What, Eds?"

"If you end up truly, miserably hating it after we find out how to style it, then I'll help you shape it up just as you like it. I'm sure I've got a few good photos around here that weren't sacrificed to the sun. Well, as long as you trust me with my hair scissors."

"You know how to cut hair?" Steve asks quietly.

"I've been cutting my own hair since I was in middle school. If I wasn't so set in stone on becoming a musician, I'd probably settle into being the next Frenchy, go the whole beauty school route."

He chuckles. "She drops out of beauty school, babe. Don't think that's what you want."

"Eh...maybe I'll go to learn enough about dye and trim jobs and then gallop away into the sunset on my noble steed, you, my princess, wrapped around me." For the first time since the appointment, Steve finds himself smiling—something small, but smiling—and Eddie returns it tenfold. "So...you gonna be my action movie star? Show me how big and strong you are?"

"You gonna keep combing your fingers through my hair?"

Something mischievous sparkles in Eddie's gaze. "Oh, I've got plans for all sorts of things, Stevie baby. Question is, are you gonna let me love you and your handsome do? If not, then we should get this shaped up now."

Steve sighs, dips his head in thought. He could let Eddie get his creativity out on more than just a set of lined notebook pages. But...well...Kurt Russell has been one of the first celebrities to really make Steve stop and think.

And Eddie...

Eddie seems like he'll burst at the seams if he doesn't get to live out whatever number of fantasies are swirling through his head.

"Okay," Steve agrees, purring, "show me how much you love my new look, sweetheart."

#and then they fuck nasty about it #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet

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cicidarkarts · 2 days ago

Text

Are You Busy, My Love?

Summary: Matthew Patel is a bit stressed at work and his beloved is so happy to help him relax.

Rating: PG-13 // contains: kissing (neck kissing, tongue kissing), mild cursing, references to drugs (weed), an egregious amount of sappy pet names

Word count: 1.3k

Backstage was always so hectic, even on practice days. Some actors and actresses didn't take things seriously until opening night. Today was one such day, where Matthew Patel thought he might rip his own hair out at the chaos and blasé faire attitudes dividing his fellow performers. A mixing of overenthusiasm and apathy lead to tripped over lazy feet and half-done props.

Even in his costume, a silky oversized shirt with billowing sleeves and an open chest, the hot air backstage stifled his lungs, made worse by all of the body odor and perfumes of the other actors. And a certain skunky smell lingered.

“Yo, Patel!” called one of the younger actors.

When Matthew turned around, he caught a tossed wig. With his face. The young actor and his friend—who was a girl but definitely not his girlfriend, seriously guys—bust out laughing. A stark odor wafted off them. Well, Matthew finally discerned who reeked of weed…

“A joke is supposed to be funny,” Matthew called, holding the short-haired wig out like he was scruffing the world's scraggliest cat.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the admittedly shitty wig in one of the many prop trunks littered around. He had to get away from all the noise. People around him yelled indecipherable things—laughter and shouting.

Matthew hurried toward the men's changing room, the air from his speed-walk chilling his legs from the loose, thin jeans of his costume. His boots clacked against the waxed hardwood like a jackhammer—yet more noise he wished didn't pound into his ears.

The men's room was thankfully empty, and he shut the door behind him to blot out sound. Muffled, but much better. The brightness of the changing room—full of lights and everyone's different colognes and clashing colors of costumes—presented a swirling cacophony to his senses.

He took a seat at one of the mirrors, facing cock-eyed so he could stare at the wall instead of lights or mirrors or brightly colored clothes. He brought his thumb and forefinger together on each hand, held them at either side of his body, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. In through his nose, out through pursed lips. In. Out. In…

A knock on the door made him clench. He brought his lips tightly together and tried not to let irritation show in his voice.

“What?” he snapped.

The door opened. A familiar pale face curtained in thick black hair poked inside. All of his anger melted away.

“Babe!” he called, hopping off his seat.

Matthew sprinted up to her as she closed the door. He snatched her around the waist, twirled her through the air, and planted a huge kiss on her lips. When he broke their kiss, he realized he'd also dipped her at some point, though his overstimulated mind hadn't registered that.

“Changed your tune real fast, huh?” she teased as he helped her get steady on her feet again. His hand buried in her long hair, brushing against her warm skin to ground himself. “Sorry.” Her teasing broke into a sympathetic smile as she fixed her glasses. “I brought you some lunch.”

She lifted her black tote bag, opposite hand caressing his back and shoulders.

“It smells so good,” he said, taking her to sit on the small sofa. “Did you make the chutney yourself this time or…?” “Nah, I just got it from our usual spot. They make it way better than me.” “I think it's great when you make it, too,” he said, rolling some stools over to use as makeshift tables. “But it is a bit of a pain in the ass, isn't it?”

He sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her soft waist. They spread all the food out, letting the scents overtake the cologne that stuck to the corners of the room.

Matthew wasn’t sure how he got so lucky that his angel loved to cook. She'd really honed her craft over the years and the perfect crunch to the samosas was a testament to that. He didn't have the heart to tell her how much he preferred her cilantro chutney over the restaurant-bought stuff—last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like she had to make the chutney herself.

His muscles unclenched at her smiles and gentle, distracting chatter. Matthew knew he'd been in the dressing room for far too long. Once the Tupperware was empty of all her delicious labor-of-love food, he helped gather it from the stools and store the empty containers in the tote on the floor.

“Well,” she said, standing to leave, “guess I should let you get back to it. You guys looked busy out there.”

But he didn't want her to go. Sure, he’d love to go practice, but more importantly: he'd love to have his angel steal him away. Away from all the noise and lazy outstretched feet and chaos and weed stink. She faced him for a quick kiss, but he reached out and sunk his fingertips into her supple hips.

“Moonflower,” he spoke, her pet name caressing his lips. “I don’t want you to go yet.”

He led her close and her squishy, thick thighs straddled him. Her weight cradled his lap and he rested her across his chest, embracing her tight, letting her drape atop him like the most perfect weighted blanket. Her hair tickled his face and he breathed in her shampoo—that girly floral and herbal scent that he’d grown so used to. That scent which seemed to banish his anxiety just by existing. Her busty chest pressed against him as he tugged her closer and buried his face in her neck.

He kissed her sensitive skin, layering small, loving devotions upon her. Teasing fingertips brushed up the back of his hand, her hand weaving through his hair in such a way she left goosebumps in her wake.

“Oh, Matthew,” she murmured.

He hummed against her warmth, surrounded by her hair and her skin. Greed crept up on him. He wanted more. He couldn’t go back to the bustle of the stage just yet. He knew he should—people were probably looking for him—but his moonflower called.

His name had tumbled from her lips like a siren’s song. With her still firmly in his grasp, he lifted his face toward her tempting mouth. His lips took hers in a reverent, soulful kiss. But rather than stealing his life, her kiss reinvigorated him. Her murmurs and moans made that smoldered ember inside him grow hotter and wilder, flickering to life with each motion of their entwined tongues.

The flavor of their lunch mixed with her usual sweetness—intoxicating, addicting. One of his hands found home in her silky, messy locks while the other held her soft cheek, cupping her face to keep her close. He needed to have his fill. It felt too good rekindling the flame inside of him.

With every passing second, his tightly wound nerves came undone. His fingers loosened as they caressed her cheek and hair. His brow unknitted. His shoulders came off his neck. And the noise and footsteps outside didn’t bother him.

All that mattered was her. Scent more relaxing than a spa day. Tongue sweeter than his favorite dessert. Lips laced with his that softened his entire soul.

[PG-13 cut // click here if you'd like to see the nsft version // 18+ only]

She kissed the tip of his nose, then placed her forehead against his. He looked into her gorgeous eyes. He was right where he was meant to be.

“Feeling better, Matthew?” “Much.” He embraced her and nuzzled against her neck, leaving a few kisses in his path. “Goddamn, I love you.” She giggled and snuggled against him. “I love you, too.”

Based off an Ask by @m00nbunny1

Thank you once more for this Ask! This was a ton of fun to make and I just really wanted an excuse to write more Matthew Patel fanfiction. Especially if that gives me an excuse to kiss him. I hope you like what I came up with!! 🖤🖤

So, in short: when Matthew is busy, he takes even more precious time and care to love me, to ground himself, to relieve stress, to feel present and loved amidst the maelstrom of obligations. Sorry my Asks take an entire era to complete, I often really want to do more than just yap, and enjoy flexing my creativity. But with a toddler, I find that I have very little time (or energy) to do such things. So thank you all for bearing with me while I work on these! They are seriously so much fun and I adore them.

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poppyseed-cheesecake · 2 days ago

Text

Part three of the Sylus fic, they finally do it

This ended up longer than intended...sorry?

Part one Part two

2515 words

For a while Sylus just sat there, wondering what he should do now. But quite frankly it didn't take long for him to really want a shower. After washing his hands and wiping the couch down, he slowly made his way up.

What should he say? Should he act like nothing happened? If you were disgusted by him what should he do? He had to go through the shared living room to shower...

Standing before the door he braced himself. Whatever happened now, he had to deal with it. If he'd just undone all his hard work to get closer to you then he just had to start over again.

But when he stepped inside you just sat there, on the couch, dressed in sweats, a book in hand.

Breathtaking.

You looked up, and a blush crept onto your face, again.

"I am so sorry." "I'm sorry man"

You spoke at the same time, and Sylus chuckled.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn't have-"

But you cut him off.

"No it was my fault. I shouldn't have picked the lock."

To your credit, you looked him in the eyes. And he couldn't help but smile.

"I suppose that was rather rude. But I should have known that a simple lock wouldn't deter you. Besides, it was a bad time for doing...that."

"Yeah, so it's all good right? No hard feelings on either side?"

Huh, so you cared what he thought. He hadn't just ruined it?

"No hard feelings, sweetie."

You nodded, still blushing, before turning back to your book.

Quickly, he gathered a change of clothes, normally he wore just his robe to entice you, but right now that might come across as...well as wrong.

But before he could close the bathroom door you spoke up again, this time, not looking at him.

"So what was it, the killing, the free falling, the explosion..."

You. But could he tell you? Was this...an invitation? He studied you, how you sat there, pointedly looking at your book but clearly not reading, tips of your ears bright red.

"Never mind, I shouldn't have asked."

The blush now overtook your whole face and Sylus swallowed, hard. This was dangerous. If he said the wrong thing now...

"Oh god please just shower! Stop staring at meeeee!"

Your whole body scrunched together and you hid your face in the book.

Something in him snapped, he couldn't stop himself. He was over you, his change of clothes on the ground, you caged between his arms as he leaned on the sofas backing.

Sylus had to look at you. Right now. His heart was hammering so loudly, he was sure you could hear it too.

"The fuck Sylus...?"

You peeked over the book, directly into his eyes, mere inches away.

"I think you know, sweetie."

He winced when you retreated further into yourself, legs now tucked tightly to your chest, book almost covering your whole face. You smelled so good. Your hair was still slightly wet.

From this close he could see you bristle as his breath fanned over your skin.

That damned book was in the way.

"Look at me."

His long fingers hooked behind the book and pried it away from your face. With a dull thud it landed somewhere on the ground, he didn't care, he was entranced. You weren't wearing a bra?

Your lips were slightly parted, eyes still searching for somewhere, anywhere, to look.

Sylus hadn't even noticed he'd been moving in closer until your hand on his chest stopped him.

"Go shower."

That made him pause. Had he read this wrong?

With surprising force you pushed him away, caught completely off guard he stumbled against the coffee table, unable to do anything but stare as you stood, fists clenched.

Shit, now he'd really done it.

"Sweetie I'm-"

"I said shower! You stink and I don't want a UTI!"

Huh? Your eyes met his now, your face bright red from ear to ear. Sylus was frozen, the only thing his racing mind knew was that you looked ravishing from this angle as well.

You raised an arm to point at the bathroom.

"Go! Now!"

With questionable amounts of dignity he found himself scrambling to his feet. Long legs suddenly in the way. You were still pointing. Stiff steps carried him inside the bathroom, and when the door shut he stood there. Had he heard that right?

Even under running water, he just stood, blank faced. The water so hot steam filled the room. He found his hands to be flexing.

A big palm pointlesslywiped water from his face.

And then he started scrubbing. Vigorously.

After about twenty minutes, when his skin felt raw and every crevice of his body clean, he had another decision to make.

He'd forgotten to pick his clothes back up. If he'd read this correctly this was going to happen. Should he come out fully nude? Or wear a towel? His robe as also an option...

Nude was too risky, if you'd wanted that you could've just watched him shower, you liked the robe, it had always been one of the most effective way to get your attention, but the towel would let you scratch his back early on.

Shit, he couldn't waste any more time. Towel it was.

Determined to save face, he slowly opened the door, droplets from his still damp hair no doubt making him look even more enticing.

"Kitten I-"

"Why aren't you dressed?!"

You took big strides towards him. Something had changed. Your sweatshirt fell differently.

A nervous chuckle came over him.

"I thought we were-"

"Yeah yeah! But get dressed first!"

"Sweetie I don't understand-"

You started shoving him towards his bedroom. Bewildered he just let it happen.

"It's emberassing! Put something on!"

You threw his previously discarded clothes at him.

"It's no fun this way!"

And you slammed the door shut. There was no doubt you could hear his relieved laughter after a moment. How fussy you were. But who was he to deny you.

The clothes you'd thrown however wouldn't do. He'd picked them when he still thought you'd run away from him.

Now that it had come to this...

He opened his closet, there was a shirt he'd saved for a situation like this. Well not quite like this, rather for a day where you were to find him sleeping on the sofa, perhaps after a few glasses of wine.

Satin fabric with a sheer gradient towards the shoulders, wrapped not buttoned, open in the chest. With it a nice body chain, some rings, bracelets...

It was supposed to get you to oogle him, maybe even touch him in his sleep a bit, but this was so much better.

After checking himself one last time he braced himself.

You were waiting on the sofa, back turned to him, fiddling with your own jewelry.

He crept up behind you, allowing himself to nuzzle in your hair, causing you to jump a little. God you smelled good.

"Ah shit! Sylus!"

Slowly, pointedly, he walked around the couch, keeping his hand on top, sliding over the material.

Until he stood before you.

"So, sweetie, is this acceptable?"

You swallowed, hard. Satisfied he noted your eyes scanning his entire body.

"Twirl for me."

It came out quieter than you'd probably hoped, but he complied regardless.

"Did I pass?"

It was hard to play of the hammering of his own heart.

You were bright red, but kept your eyes trained on him.

"Y-Yeah."

Sylus was back over you in less than a second.

"I think you'll need to check some more."

It was a whisper, his lips grazed your ear, your jaw. God he wanted this. Your heart was beating fast.

Your fingers were cold on his chest, a featherlight touch that left him wanting more.

"Ah- do you think that's enough, sweetie?"

Honestly he could probably cum from just this, inhaling your scent, your calloused fingers gingerly on his chest. And then he felt your nails.

He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. Emboldened by his reaction your hands travelled over his chest, tugged on the chain, went down toward his belly, his sides...

He couldn't take it anymore. Sylus' head snapped up from your shoulder, a big palm cradling your face. Your beautiful face, his thumb swiped over your slightly parted lips and you finally ripped your gaze from his upper body to look at him.

It took him everything he had to give you enough time to dodge his lips.

But you didn't. Both his hands now holding your face, tilting it up as he climbed further onto the couch, his legs now caging you as well.

His vision went white, you opened your mouth just enough to let him in and he wasted no time. You tasted like honey and darjeeling. Your fingers clawed into his sides and he groaned into your mouth. Hopefully you were leaving marks.

Dizzy, he pushed further and further into you, your head now fully tilted back and laying on the headrest. Sylus knew, he'd climb inside you if you let him.

There was no need to breathe, not if it would seperate him from you he could-

A harsh tug on his chain made him pause, two hands pushing against his chest made him stop completely. He let you push him away, making him sit back on his haunches.

There you were, caged by his legs, panting, flushed, dishevelled, your lips red and swollen.

Desperately, Sylus tried to muster a single rational thought. But how could he? When your knees were pressing against him, so hard it hurt.

When you were so beautiful under him?

"Sweetie are you alright?"

But concern, concern he could muster, big hands gently cupping your face, making you look at him.

"Hah...Let me breathe!"

Playful little punches hit his arms, and he caught one of those offending fists to press a kiss to yojr knuckles.

"I apologize."

God how was he so lucky.

A long finger traced your jaw, down to your neck, played with the hem of your sweater.

A nod from you answered his questioning look, and his lips followed his finger. Soft kisses giving you goosebumps. He had to take a fist full of your hair to gently guide you. Give him more access.

Your breath hitched when he reatched your collar bones.

"Lift this for me."

His hands ghosted over the hem of your shirt, and after a moment of hesitation you complied, pulling it high enough for him to see what exactly had changed.

And he had to stifle a laugh. A lacy bra, if he could even call it that. Quite frankly it would've been less indecent had you been nude.

"What?!"

"You're beautiful."

"Yeah yeah just get on with it..."

You didn't have to say that twice. His hands now on your waist, he climbed off the sofa, kneeling in between your legs as his lips gently nipped at your skin.

"Hmmm, it would be a shame to take this off..."

A long finger hooked under your bra, letting the fabric snap back onto skin. You flinched.

"Hey!"

"What? You're the one who put it on?"

His teasing tone earned him a tug on his chain, wich, in turn, earned you a moan. Oh he liked this.

"That's dangerous, sweetie."

He squeezed your thighs, his fingers now daring to dip under your waistband. And god did he revel in the way you watched him, lips parted, mesmerized, enchanting.

He had to come back up for a breathless kiss, had to press his forehead to yours, look deep into your eyes.

"Tell me you want this...please."

Sylus searched for something in your face, hesitation, fear, anything that would take this - take you - away from him. But all he found was desire, barely masked by a smug smirk.

"I want this. Trust me."

You pulled him into another kiss, and this time, he received you.

And he chuckled into your mouth. Relief washed over him, his hands tugging your sweats off while you released him to move back down your body. Open mouthed kisses leaving your skin hot and flushed. Now he did pull your bra down, just enough to take nipple into his mouth, your soft gasp a sound he'd never forget.

Sylus wanted to spend forever here, in this moment, but there was somewhere else he couldn't wait any longer to be, so his lips moved down further, trailing kisses down your belly, noting scars and momes for later, until he reached the hem of your matching, lacy panties.

So you too had dressed for this.

He had to take a moment, had to rest his head on your thigh.

You were still holding your sweater up with one hand, your other found his hair, caressed his ear, his cheek.

He leaned into the touch. Later, he would have to lay in your lap properly. But now there was something else he needed to do.

A long finger trailed right down the middle of your panties. They were damp. Fuck his pants felt tight.

Pressing kisses to the inside of your thigh, he hooked it over his shoulder and pulled you closer towards the edge of the sofa. Closer to his face.

A barrage of increasingly hungry, increasingly closer kisses made you gasp. Your scent was maddening, but he forced himself to take it slow.

He had to keep it together. His lower stomache was in knots. At this rate he'd tuin another set of boxers.

But what did it matter. The lace was an insult to your taste, and he unceremoniously pulled it aside.

You watched him so intently.

And when he first tasted you unobstructed? Oh it was over for him.

Closer, you had to come closer. In his greed he pulled you in further by the waist, practically pressing you against him.

Oh how your thighs squeezed around his face. This was why life was worth living.

His toung worked like it had never before, thirst built up over centuries finally quenched.

Your gasps and moans now growing in frequency and volume, while both hands clawed into his hair, pushing him even closer.

Sylus would cum right here, untouched, if this kept going, and he was more than happy to do so.

You on the other hand, had other plans, the leg not hooked over his shoulder promptly found its place between his, your foot pressing on his erection, and he found himself pathetically rutting against it.

It only spurned him on, large palm pressing onto your stomache, the other holding you steady as he sucked and licked and then -

A gutteral moan from your throat, your thighs squeezing and spazming around his face. Sylus followed closely after you, still latched onto your cunt, moaning, desperately drinking everything you were willing to give.

Panting you both slumped into yourselves a bit, Sylus head on your thighs, you own rolling back onto the headrest.

After a while your fingers softly caressed his hair again, and he sighed. Content.

#lads sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads smut #sylus x mc #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus smut #mdni

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scribbledghost · 2 days ago

Text

The Visitor - Part X - Final

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader (Vessel the character, not the real man behind the mask)

Rating: T

Word count: 2,606

Summary: Nothing lasts forever.

Notes: 3rd person POV, use of she/her pronouns for reader. Who's ready for a finale? Divider by @/enchanthings. Part nine can be found here.

"No."

The universe stops as soon as the word leaves Vessel's mouth. It is as if all the oxygen has evaporated, like all movement in existence has ceased.

"No?" Sleep says. It seems to be almost confused, in a way. As if it's never heard the word before. Like it's testing the way it feels on its tongue.

Just as he opens his mouth to repeat himself, another voice rings through the air.

"No."

The woman speaks for herself, though when she tries to step out from Vessel's shadow, he stops her gently.

"I made my choice. I decline your offer."

The fierce edge to her words makes Vessel's chest swell with pride. But Sleep seems to be violently yanked from its brief shock at the sound of her voice, and suddenly it grows again to gigantic proportions fit for the god it is.

"You have disobeyed me for the last time," Sleep utters. "You are no longer deserving of the title you wield."

The world quakes, sending the vessels and the woman's collective balance off-kilter. Darkness begins to creep into Vessel's vision from the edges, and he realizes what he needs to do to prevent a hostile takeover from the eldritch being.

"I rescind your title of my own volition," Vessel declares. With this, he removes his mask, and throws it over the edge of the cliff before him and into the inky abyss below.

He can feel when his connection to the veil has been severed; it is as if he has voluntarily torn a limb from his body. Vessel's body contorts in pain, a sharp scream erupting from his vocal chords. He bends forward, as if trying to curl into the fetal position.

Sleep's voice bellows in his mind, a thousand sentences curling around his brain and tightening like a vice. He feels the faraway sensation of someone gripping onto his arm, though who holds him, he cannot tell. It is as if his head will explode, unable to contain the wretched being that's infiltrated it.

But he does not break. He does not kneel.

For the first time in his memory, he fights. Truly fights.

He combats Sleep's onslaught with his own thoughts. Repeating how it cannot have her, how it has failed to convert her. Despite having nearly unfettered access to Vessel's very thoughts, despite having unholy amounts of control over him, it has failed.

Slowly, he feels the hold that Sleep has over him begin to dissipate. It is a minute, almost microscopic, change. But it is a change he can cling to. And it seems that Sleep has noticed its grasp beginning to weaken.

Just as he begins to recover some of his faculties, however, he hears a cry of pain off to his side.

II is kneeling, hands on his head, howling in anguish.

It appears that Sleep is attempting to convert him to its primary vessel; something that it can use to enact its wishes. It is a soul-crushing process when it is done slowly and delicately; Vessel shudders to think of what II is going through now that Sleep has little time or desire for gentleness.

"I can give you everything," Sleep purrs over the din of II's screams. Vessel knows it is directing its words to the other vessels, trying to tempt them to take his place as the Sleep's primary. "No wish shall go ungranted. All you could ever desire would be at your fingertips. Is this not what you wanted when you first converted? Is this not what you have been blessed with for centuries?"

III, to his immense credit, wastes little time ripping the mask from his face and flinging it over the cliff's edge.

"It's not fuckin' worth it!" he cries, defiant in the face of something he could never comprehend. Shortly after, he too falls to the ground, hands at his head as he struggles to cope with the loss of his ties.

Vessel's gaze turns back to Sleep itself, and he notices something. To the others, it would be nigh-imperceptible. But he's known Sleep for millennia, and the difference is as clear as night and day to him.

It is growing smaller.

It is shrinking, no doubt because two of its four vessels have renounced it and relinquished its rose-colored promises.

However, as its size diminishes, its anger grows.

Vessel watches helplessly as II claws at the mask on his face, desperate to remove it but lacking the fine motor skills to complete the task, his system wholly overloaded with whatever torture Sleep is subjecting him to.

His visitor must notice as well, for she begins to walk towards him. Vessel keeps a tight hold on her arm, forbidding her from going much further.

"We've got to help him take it off!" she yells over the rumbling surrounding them.

"It doesn't work that way!" Vessel replies, still struggling against Sleep's punishment. "If he doesn't remove it and discard it himself, it will return!"

This much is true; Vessel could take the mask from him and throw it into the ether for him, but it would not work. In an instant, it would be back on II's face, as if it had never left.

The title of "vessel" must be relinquished of one's own will - any attempt by anyone else to do it for them would only result in abject failure.

Vessel continues to fight against Sleep's projections, as do the others. IV seems to be the only one spared at present, and he comes up to keep the woman next to Vessel steady and upright. It is all he can do for now.

Vessel's charge yells at IV to take off his mask, to renounce Sleep just as III and Vessel have. In response, IV makes a critical error:

He hesitates.

II's body suddenly deflates, collapsing onto his stomach as Sleep's presence suddenly leaves him and jumps to IV. IV falls to his knees with a pained yelp, gripping his head.

"You," Sleep murmurs aloud, though it is clear it is addressing IV. "My youngest vessel. You will suit me well, yes? You remember how painful it was to be human. You remember the tragedy, the hunger, the thirst. You know how much simpler life is here. Surely you will not be so ungrateful as to deny me something so simple as worship?"

"Fight it, IV!" III calls from behind him. Of the four, he seems to be doing the best at prevailing against Sleep; he has managed to return to an upright position and is coherent.

Meanwhile, II has successfully managed to remove his mask, and Vessel watches as he weakly pushes it off the side of the cliff and into the dark. Sleep shrinks more, now at half the size it was before. It convulses, a high-pitched squeal emanating from everywhere piercing the air as black smoke begins to swirl around it. Vessel fears that II has lost consciousness.

"I understand you," Sleep says. "I understand how you feel... less than the others. How you wish for more. More power, more affection, more... recognition. I can give you all of that, my dearest vessel. All you have to do is give in. Become my primary, and this realm can be yours."

"No," Vessel croaks, hoping beyond hope that IV hears him. "It lies. It will always lie."

Just one true vessel remains. The fate of all of them rests in IV's hands.

IV catches Vessel's gaze, tears pouring from his eyes. Meanwhile, III is attempting to help II to his feet, and Vessel heaves a sigh of relief to find II still awake, though weak. The woman throws one of Vessel's arms over her shoulders, supporting his weight as best as she can as the ground continues to tremble beneath them.

Just as II had done before, IV attempts to remove his mask, but his hands refuse to cooperate under the weight of Sleep. Tremors violently tear through IV's hands, rendering him unable to even get a grasp on the mask's material. Desperate to help, and unable to see any alternative, Vessel reaches out and places a hand on the back of IV's neck.

Siphoning away pain is something he is deeply accustomed to doing, but not with the other vessels. He has only ever done such a thing with human visitors, and even then it has been sparing. He has no idea if the action will even work.

He does not need to remove much. Just enough for IV to regain his fine motor functions so he can break the bind between himself and Sleep.

Vessel's mind floods with voices; some he recognizes, many he doesn't. All begging for IV to give in, to allow Sleep to overtake him. The cacophony is so loud and convincing that even Vessel himself is nearly tempted to beg for Sleep's forgiveness.

But the opportunity for such a thing has long since passed, and Vessel continues to draw more of IV's anguish unto himself.

Just when he thinks his plan has failed, however, IV's hands still. They cease their trembling just enough for IV to curl his fingertips beneath the mask and remove it from his face.

Sleep lets out a final mighty, bone-rattling howl as the mask is thrown into the chasm below.

"You can't have me, either," IV says between heavy breaths.

As it disappears into the dark, IV's head twitches as if he's been shot. His eyes roll back, and he falls to his back, eyes barely open as he clings to consciousness.

Then, the world goes silent. In the blink of an eye, all movements cease, including Sleep's. Vessel's mind quiets, the sudden lack of activity jarring and unsettling. He helps IV to sit up, supporting the other's back.

Tentatively, the woman eases Vessel down next to IV, and he brings her with him as he kneels. III and II make their way there as well, the five of them grouping together as if preparing for the onslaught ahead. After all, Sleep still watches them, though it is still and quiet.

"Wh..." II breathes, struggling through his words, "...what now?"

Just as the words leave II's mouth, all hell breaks loose.

A violent shriek leaves Sleep, all of its limbs and appendages seizing as if in pain. The sound pierces through Vessel's skull, and II, III, and the woman instinctively cover their ears. The cliff they stand on begins to shake again, this time cracking as if it is coming apart at the seams.

All five of them grip onto each other, and Vessel feels IV's weak hold on his cloak.

Just as pieces of the cliff begin to fall away into the gulf below, Vessel's breath is stolen from him as he watches cracks begin to split through Sleep's form.

Bright, blinding light emanates from the cracks through the black smoke as they become more numerous. Sleep grips at them fiercely, as if attempting in vain to pull itself back together. The shrieking continues, almost a constant pitch as the cliffside continues to crumble away.

Then, one final, desperate roar permeates Vessel's skull, and the very ground beneath all of them gives way.

Vessel instinctually clings to the others and his beloved as they fall through the abyss,

down

into the inky depths below.

Then, as they fall, he watches as Sleep - the deity he had pledged eons to, the one that has been a constant in his life for as long as he can remember - explodes in a blinding supernova of light. The brightness envelops his senses, and he fades.

His eyes open slowly, the bright light above nearly painful as he attempts to adjust.

It feels warm on his skin.

Vessel groans, attempting to push himself to sit up, but the surface that he lay upon is soft and welcoming and for the first time in so, so many years, he finds himself sinking into its comfort.

However, he relinquishes the plush ground beneath him as he begins to hear the shuffling and groaning of others nearby. He pries his eyes open again, forcing himself into an upright position. As he does so, he feels a gentle hand at his back, helping him up.

It's the woman. His beloved, the reason he has been so blessed as to feel the sun on his skin again.

Vessel looks around, watching the others wake and move to sit up in their own right. They are in an open field, nestled into tall grass.

"Is... 's it over?" IV mumbles.

"I think so," Vessel replies.

II looks down at his hands, prompting Vessel to do the same. He watches as the permanent black ink adorning his skin evaporates, like dust blowing away in the wind. The others' ink does the same, and as Vessel looks around, he is almost surprised at how... human each of them look.

"Missin' a few eyes there, mate," III says with a chuckle. Sure enough, when Vessel reaches up to his own face, he finds only two eyes there, as opposed to the six he'd been accustomed to for so long.

"Too fuckin' bright," II mumbles, scrunching his nose in disapproval.

Vessel must agree with him; after so long in Sleep's domain, where few things are brighter than shades of gray, sunshine is almost offensive to his eyesight.

All of them move slowly, attempting to adjust to the sudden change in scenery. None of them stand, however, perfectly content to simply shift along the ground closer to each other until they are all leaned together in a huddle. They take several moments to simply breathe, allowing the fresh air and the scent of nature to fill their lungs. Vessel revels in the peace as he adjusts to the feeling of being the only inhabitant of his mind.

There is no trace of Sleep left.

"I must admit," Vessel says finally, "I... do not know where we are now."

The others look around, though it is only the woman who speaks.

"Actually, this place looks familiar," she says. "I can't tell for sure without walking a ways to civilization, but I think I know where this is. I think we're back on... Earth, I guess? I don't know where we were before in relation to... here."

That's a question Vessel has no answer to, nor do the others. But it matters little in the grand scheme of things.

"If it really is where you came from," II says, "then we'll be pretty out of place."

"Yeah, it's been... a long time since we've been here," III confirms. "One of us was here pretty recently, though."

"Y'don't have to talk about me like I'm not here, jackass," IV faux-grumbles. "Besides, the last time I was here, people still rode horses everywhere. Do... do they still do that?"

"Sometimes," the woman says with a laugh, "though something tells me it's way less common now than it was when you were here. Depending on when 'now' is, anyway... I think time worked funny in the domain. I don't know how long I've been gone."

"We'll find out together," Vessel says softly, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"Yeah," she says. "Together."

Silence falls for a few moments, the five of them content in each others' presence as they bask in their hard-won freedom until Vessel realizes something.

"I suppose that would make you our guide then, my heart," Vessel says.

She returns the gesture with a soft laugh, and Vessel's heart fills with warmth as he gazes down to the white ribbon around her wrist.

"Yeah," she says. "I suppose it does."

#vessel x reader #sleep token #sleep token x reader #ghost scribbles

42 notes · View notes

puma-riki · 18 hours ago

Text

No One Noticed

Warnings: consistent cursing, kms/kys jokes, [Subject to change every chapter]

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

Taglist (open!): @bee-the-loser @iaintseggsy @channieismylove @yangjungwonnie @luluvhs @nikiswifiee @kingofthekards @skepvids @sammie217 @sh0dor1 @sirens-dreams @starfallia @polarisjisung @minhosimthings @mochiwonz @jiiyen @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @ritzy-dream-boy @roseangelxfuma @sugarikiz @stvrriki @eczlipse @ddolleri @dangerousgardenchild @roarr-ki @rikidaze @rinoosformstellation @domfikeluva @b0os-jellfyfish @wensurr @melancholy-z @brinethebean @sol3chu @luvjichang @aerijns @bananna-12 @jungwonsjellies @sumzysworld @right-person-wrong-time @rikikiynikilcykiki @pjselee @maniluvzyou @jungwonswife-real @annybah @flaminghotyourmom @vvenusoncasual @pookalicious-hq @jaykehoonist @raven-odyssey @rodelalaland @planetmarlowe @joonsprettygf @cherryangel-coke @wintereals

IGNORE TIME STAMPS !!

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Author's Note: Pookie angel baby nation how are youuuuu.... THIS IS SO LATE and once again I am so sorry and so thankful for all of the support and patience you've given me and this smau!! I'm finally done with school so I will have A LOT more free time and continue with this smau (which we are almost finished with). Anyway enjoy! Sunoo does not let anything slide here and they're all a bit dense but it's okay

33. I Miss My Family (wc: 8.0k)

Shit.

Ni-ki has sat on his knees beside his bed for much longer than he'd like to admit, much longer than he should be. Your cheek is still resting on the palm of his hand, warm and soft. Still caught in a deep sleep.

Damn, it only took you the small amount of time he was gone getting water to pass out on his bed.

He didn't mind though. Of course he didn't.

Ni-ki lays his head on the mattress, watching your form rise and fall as you breathe. Your arms are hugged close to your chest and your cheek, laying against his hand, makes your lips form a slight pout. He can feel your hair tangling around his fingers as he moves his thumb to ghost over your lips.

God.

Was this creepy?

He had practically guilt-tripped you into coming over—for the first time, mind you—while you were exhausted, and now here he is, watching you sleep and tracing your features like some obsessed freak.

How does he get out of this.

Mulling it over, Ni-ki has come to the conclusion that he has one of two options.

One, he pulls away like a decent human being, risks waking you up, and settles down on the floor as he originally planned. It’s the safer choice, the normal choice, the choice that ensures you won’t wake up, see his hand still under your face, and immediately call the police.

And two... he stays. He lets you sleep on his hand until you eventually move again, and then he can slip away. But you haven’t moved for a while now, and his legs are starting to go numb.

He doesn’t want to wake you. You’ve had a rough week, and right now, with all your responsibilities pushed far away, you finally look like you’re resting.

But if you wake up and see him like this, staring at you like some lovesick idiot, that’s it. He’s never coming back from that.

At least if you did wake up with option one, he could play it off. Take advantage of your delirious sleep-deprived state and pretend he has no idea what you mean when you ask him if he was sitting here for an hour watching you sleep while softly tracing and memorizing every inch of your face so that he might be able to recreate you in his dreams and hold you like this without fear.

....

Option one it is!

Ni-ki exhales quietly and slowly shifts, rolling onto his heels before pushing up into a crouch. His weight lifts off his knees, one hand steadying himself on the mattress as he starts to stand.

He hovers over you slightly, trying to find the best angle to slip his hand away without disturbing you.

Okay. Slow and steady.

He carefully, carefully starts to pull back. His fingers ghost along your skin as he eases his hand out from under your cheek, his breath shallow, his movements painstakingly precise.

Just a little more. Almost there.

Then—

You shift.

Ni-ki immediately freezes, his stomach dropping.

Your head barely moves, just the smallest tilt toward where his hand used to be, like you’re instinctively following the warmth that was there moments ago.

Ni-ki grimaces.

His muscles are locked, body halfway bent over you, one knee still pressing into the mattress, his other foot planted on the floor. He feels like a thief caught mid-crime, except instead of stealing, he’s actively trying not to get caught for whatever the hell this situation is.

He clenches his jaw and exhales slowly through his nose, mentally hyping himself up. Just a little more. He can do this.

Another inch. Another half-inch.

Almost—

Then your hand moves.

Ni-ki watches, helpless, as your fingers blindly reach out in your sleep. His breath catches, heart stopping in his chest—

And then your fingers brush against his forearm.

He swears he feels it in his soul.

Your hand lingers for half a second before moving again, curling around his arm, hugging it close like a plushie.

Ni-ki stops breathing.

Oh.

His throat bobs as he stares down at where your fingers are wrapped around him, completely relaxed, completely unaware of the absolute mess you’re making of him.

You’re holding onto him. Not just in passing, not for a fleeting moment.

Ni-ki swallows hard, something dangerously warm curling in his chest.

Alright. Alright. Don't freak out.

Just… just pull away slowly. Again.

He tries, just slightly, to move his arm.

Your fingers tighten.

Ni-ki's brain malfunctions.

You can't be serious.

A deep sigh leaves his nose as he stares at the ceiling, willing himself not to let this get to his head.

But then what the hell is he supposed to do now?

Stand here half-hunched over you all night like some idiot? Sleep on his knees next to the bed? Just exist in this ridiculous half-hovering state forever?

His mouth twitches with something between disbelief and reluctant acceptance.

He can't move. He has no choice.

With the deepest, most resigned exhale of his life, Ni-ki slowly lowers himself onto the mattress, resting on his side next to you.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. He just stares at the ceiling, dead weight, entirely at your mercy.

This is fine.

Ni-ki lies there, completely still, as if any slight movement might wake you-- or worse, make you let go. Your fingers, curled loosely around his forearm, feel impossibly warm.

His heart is pounding so loud, he's afraid you'll hear it calling out to you.

He should move. He should. But how could he? Not when you're curled up beside him like this, fitting so easily into the space next to him like you belonged there. Not when you're wrapped in his clothes, drowning in the fabric in a way that makes something deep in his chest ache. Not when you're breathing so softly, so steadily, completely at peace in his bed.

His throat feels tight as he watches you, taking in every detail-- the slight part of your lips, the way your lashes rest against your cheeks, the tousled strands of your hair brushing against his pillow. He swallows.

You're breathtaking.

As he lays in his dimly lit room next to you, he lets himself imagine it.

What if moments like this weren't so rare? The last time you clung to him like this was Halloween.

What if they weren't so accidental? What if he could have this every night-- have you every night? What if, instead of you unconsciously reaching for him in your sleep, you did it because you wanted to? Because you knew he was there?

What if, after a long day, you leaned into him the same way you are now? What if you let yourself need him, trust him enough to fall apart in his arms when things get too heavy?

What if you woke up beside him every morning, drowsy and wrapped in his sheets while complaining about the cold as he hugged you closer?

Ni-ki exhales slowly, willing his racing heart to calm down.

It's stupid, but his thoughts keep circling back to it.

You had seemed so stressed about your mom and this Christmas thing.

"And my mom- she keeps asking me to invite you and the others to this dumb friendsmas dinner at my house for winter break"

"I already told her I didn't think you would be into that."

That had been the first time you mentioned it. Your mom, Christmas dinner, the fact you never considered asking.

As if it wasn't worth asking. As if you already knew the answer.

His Jaw tightens.

Did you actually think it was dumb? Or were you just saying that because you thought he would think it was dumb?

The thought makes his chest feel heavy.

Because, yeah, maybe he would have teased you a little if you asked. Maybe he would've laughed and made a joke. But he wouldn't have meant it. And he definitely wouldn't have said no.

Of course he would've gone. Of course he wants to go. And free food for basically a whole night? The others would've been elated.

So why didn't you think they wouldn't?

It makes something ache inside him, this quiet persistent feeling he doesn't know how to name. He hates the idea that you might not trust him with things like this, that you're still holding him at a distance even after all this time.

He shifts slightly, just enough to lay his head beside yours on the pillow next to you. You're so close that he can count the strands of hair falling over your cheek and see the soft part of your lips as you exhale.

His mind wanders just for a second.

What if he had more moments like this with you. What if you reached for him like this when you were awake? Instead of letting yourself fall asleep alone every night, you let him stay by your side.

This is too much heartache for so late in the night.

He decides to just close his eyes and let his mind wander into his dreams. His tense body starts to relax into the mattress as the sound of your steady breathing fills his ears. He makes a mental note to flick you on the forehead and interrogate you about Christmas in the morning before he finally drifts off to sleep

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝

The distant sound of dishes clattering and familiar voices pulls you from sleep.

Letting out a deep sigh, you roll your upper body onto your back and rub your eyes. You're still too drowsy to take in your surroundings. But not enough to feel the morning sun leaking through the window. You roll back over to your original position, shoving your face into the pillow you're holding to your chest.

But something feels... off.

The scent of something familiar fills your senses— cologne? There's a warmth beneath you that's soft, yet firm, definitely not a pillow.

Your brows furrow and you run your hand along the soft material. You stop when you feel a faint thump against your fingertips.

Steady. Rhythmic.

Like a pulse.

Your brows knit further together as realization dawns, and, finally, you open your eyes fully.

Ni-ki is a breath away from you.

Your heart stutters violently in your chest as you take him in, the weight of sleep still heavy on his face. His lips are parted ever so slightly, breathing slow and even, lashes resting against his skin in delicate shadows. His hair, tousled and soft, falls across his forehead.

You should really move.

But instead, you find yourself drinking him in. Eyes flitting around his body as if you're trying to commit every feature of his to memory like it's the first time you've seen him.

You raise your head off his arm and peer down at your arms entangled with his.

Jesus, were you hugging his arm the entire night, how did this even happen?

Guilt seeps into your chest as you gently and slowly begin untangling your arms. Biting your lip in anticipation. How terrible would it be if he woke up and caught you clinging to him.

Geez, the first time you're over at his place and you've already acted like a pervert. Well, at least you feel like a pervert.

You've just managed to slip your hand out from under his arm when he shifts. Your heart lurches and you yank your hand the rest of the way out in a panic.

Riki lets out a quiet hum, his brows twitching slightly, and for a terrifying second, you think he's about to wake up. Your body goes rigid, your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat.

But instead of blinking awake and catching you red-handed, he only shifts further into his pillow, his arm— now free from your grip—instinctively tucking closer to his chest as if seeking warmth.

You exhale, slow and steady, your heartbeat pounding embarrassingly loud in your ears.

God. What is wrong with you?

You're acting like you've just got caught stealing from a convenience store.

Still, the absence of his warmth leaves a hollow space in your chest.

Not that you should be missing it.

Shaking your head, you cautiously roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to collect yourself. The room is still dim despite the early morning light filtering through the blinds, casting golden streaks across Ni-ki's walls. Somewhere beyond the door, the distant sounds of dishes clinking and muffled voices carry through the apartment— reminders that the rest of the world still exists outside this quiet intimate moment.

You recognize one of the voices to be Jungwon.

Your stomach twists.

For a moment, you'd almost forgotten. The weight of last night, the comfort of Riki's room, the unfamiliar yet oddly welcoming warmth beside you— had distracted you. But now reality presses in, and with it, the reminder that beyond that door is someone who might still be upset with you.

You don't know what to expect from Jungwon. Maybe he won't even acknowledge your presence, just like he's done at work. Or maybe, worse, he'll be totally weirded out by the fact that you're even here, at his place, sleeping in his best friend's bed like you belong here.

When you say it like that it sounds even weirder. God.

Your gaze flickers back to Riki.

Just for a second

His face is soft with sleep, the usual sharp playfulness dulled by something far more delicate. The early morning light casts a glow over his skin. His cheek is pressed into the pillow, and his dark hair falls over his forehead in a way that's so effortlessly pretty and peaceful, it feels unfair.

You turn your head towards the ceiling again, lost in thought. You don't really want to face the inevitable awkwardness outside, nor do you want to get up.

Maybe you could just go back to sleep and leave this to be a problem for future you. Riki's bed is soft against your back, practically lulling you back to sleep. If you fall back asleep now, Jungwon and the others could be out of the apartment or holed up in their rooms long enough for you to slip out quietly. Riki would probably be awake by then too, then you wouldn't feel so guilty leaving unannounced.

Just as your letting yourself feel drowsy again, a sudden, soft "Boo."

Something pokes your side.

You jolt with a sharp inhale, snapping your head to the side. Riki grins at you, eyes barely open, hair tousled beyond repair.

"You—" You slap his arm, making him giggle as he curls away, shielding himself. "Have you been awake this whole time?"

"Mmmm, no. I just woke up." His voice is deeper, still thick with sleep. You hum in response as he returns to his resting position on his side, facing you with his arms crossed. "Why? Scared you got caught watching me sleep?"

Oh shit.

"No, you drool in your sleep." You say blankly, fighting the heat crawling up your body and the guilty smile tugging at your lips as you see him furrow his brows and quickly raise a hand to wipe his mouth.

When he wipes his mouth and finds that he is, in fact, not drooling, he drops his hand on the matress, defeated. "You don't have to lie."

"You don't have to be annoying first thing in the morning."

"I can't help it when you're right beside me."

You click your tongue and loll your head back to look at the ceiling, hands folded over your stomach. You're not sure what to say in response, so you let silence fall between you, but it's not uncomfortable. You're too preoccupied with the thought of Jungwon being upset with you still, and Eunchae.

Riki notices you seem to be lost in thought as you stare up at the blank ceiling of his room. He scoots over so your heads are just centimeters apart. He faces the ceiling too.

"Is there anything interesting we're looking at?"

you blow air past your lips softly, "No... just thinking."

"Well... what are we thinking about?" Ni-ki steals a glance at you.

You let a beat pass, hesitating, before saying, " I think Jungwon's still upset with me." You turn just enough to gently knock your head with his, "And I think it'll be super awkward if he sees I'm here."

Riki hums, the sound low and thoughtful. "Jungwon's always a little awkward, though."

"Yeah, but he's still mad at me. I think." You mutter the last part.

"Well," He draws out. "He's not the type to let an argument, or whatever this is, draw out like this. He probably feels bad now and is thinking of how to fix it."

"You don't think he'll be upset that I'm here?" You quirk an eyebrow in question, even though he can't see you.

"Nah, he'll probably use this as an opportunity to make up with you." He shrugs, his shoulder brushing against yours, "Besides, you were mine first, who cares what he thinks. I'm allowed to invite you over if I want."

Your heart stutters. You're not entirely sure what to say to that. You know he means you were his friend before Jungwon's, but you can't help the heat crawling up your neck at his words.

"But you know what would really help you both get over this?" He asks nudging your shoulder.

"What?"

"Inviting everyone to that party your mom invited us to at your place." He says it rather quickly, but he's completely serious. You completely forgot that you told him about that while you were practically breaking down in his arms. It's embarrassing how whenever he's around you just feel every emotion, every sense, and every word pour out of your very being right in front of him. You shut your eyes and scoff. More at yourself than the boy lying next to you.

"I'm serious!" His voice rises in pitch and volume like he's trying to make a point.

"You're definitely something alright."

"Yet, you're still here."

You roll your eyes, but there's no real annoyance behind it. "Unfortunately,"

Riki pouts dramatically, nudging you again, "That hurts,"

"I'm sure you'll recover."

"If we went to that dinner party thing, I would."

You turn over on your side, facing away from Riki, "I'm going back to sleep."

"What- [name]." He deadpans turning on his side as well.

"Goodnight."

"But-"

"Goodnight!"

Riki is silent for a minute, and you smile, thinking you've shut down his attempt to bring this topic back up. Until you feel a weight drape over your side.

A rather heavy one.

"Oh my f- Riki get off!"

Ni-ki doesn't budge. He's thrown his entire body over your side horizontally. You shove at his shoulder in an attempt to at least, roll him over to your legs so you can sit up, but alas, it does not work.

"I'm not even that heavy." He huffs like he's the one being inconvenienced.

"You're literally crushing me." You squirm beneath him, pushing up on his back but it's like he only seems to get heavier. He's practically dead weight. "Get up!"

"I can't. You won't even let me accept your mom's invitation. Actions have consequences." He drawls, blankly staring up at the ceiling but you can see the stupid grin on his face and teasing glint in his eyes.

"This is not a consequence this is harassment!"

"Whatever you wanna call it, anyway, I'm not moving until you let me, and the others come over to yours for winter break." He sighs, shifting slightly to adjust his weight like he's getting comfortable.

"Why are you so determined to go to this thing?" You grumble, more to yourself, still trying to push him off by his shoulder.

"Why are you so determined to get us not to? Do you not want us to?" He says it casually, but there's something about his voice that sounds a bit hurt.

Ni-ki feels you stop pushing on his shoulder, your struggling softens to just resting your hands on his shoulder silently. Ni-ki's scared he's messed something up or instead gotten it right on the mark and that you really don't want him to be involved in such trivial matters in your life like small Christmas dinners over winter breaks.

You, on the other hand, are wondering the same thing. Is it really so terrible that you invited people over to your place over the holiday break? You were so scared of being rejected you didn't even ask because it's what you were used to. You don't know which is more embarrassing, the fact that you got so worked up over something this silly or the possibility of being laughed at and dismissed.

Ni-ki is hyperaware of your breathing beneath his back and how your fingers have started absent-mindedly playing with the sleeve of his hoodie. "No, it's not that."

Ni-ki closes his eyes and lets out a quiet breath of relief at your words, "I'm just embarrassed." Your eyes shift down to your hands that pinch and pull at the fabric adorning Riki's arms. "I didn't mean for it to become such a big deal, but you know. Then I went crying about it. I've never actually had anyone come over before; people always declined my invites in the past, so I just kind of thought... that it would be the same now. I didn't want to ask you guys and then have it be awkward because maybe you didn't think we were as close as I did and turn me down."

"You're so dumb," he mumbles, but there’s no bite to it — just warmth. "You think I’d ever say no to you? Please, I’d kill for an invite like that."

You scoff softly. "Yeah, right. You'd fight over a free meal, maybe."

"Exactly." He grins. "But also… I’d go because it’s your house. Your family. And you wanted us — me — there. You're allowed to cry about things, you know? Even if you don't think it's a big deal. Even if its messy or weird or not what you think should matter. If it matters to you, it counts. And that's enough."

Your cheeks burn at the way he says me, as if it holds any special meaning, but you say nothing.

"I don’t know what kind of losers you’ve invited before, but I’m not them. Neither are the others. And I hate to break it to you, but we’re way closer than you think. You're stuck with us now."

He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You feel his hand brush gently over yours, like he’s trying to ground you without making a big deal of it.

"Besides," he continues, his voice softening just slightly, "I kinda like the idea of seeing where you grew up. Maybe I’ll find some embarrassing childhood photos."

You groan, burying your face into the pillow beside you. "Of course that’s what you’d look forward to."

"Obviously." He grins, nudging you playfully. "But also... I just think it’d be nice. You never really talk about your family. I’d like to know more about you. And I wanna be there, even if you think it’s dumb."

There's a beat of silence, his words hanging in the air. Then he squeezes your hand once, almost like a silent promise.

"Still not getting up though," he deadpans. "You're kind of comfy."

And just like that, the weight on your chest feels a little lighter.

A sudden thud echoes from the other side of the door, followed by a familiar voice.

"Ni-ki!"

The door swings open, and Jay fills the frame, his expression hovering somewhere between exasperation and resigned patience. He doesn’t look particularly intimidating—dressed in a loose hoodie and sweatpants, hair sticking up in mismatched directions like he’d just rolled out of bed. But there’s a sharpness in his eyes that says he’s here with a purpose.

Then, his gaze lands on you. For a second, the irritation flickers into mild surprise. "Oh, hey, [Name]."

"Hey," you reply, trying your best to sound casual, even though you're still half-pinned beneath Ni-ki. Not exactly your most dignified moment.

"Why didn’t you do the dishes last night?" Jay’s focus shifts back to Ni-ki, his voice landing somewhere between exasperated and resigned — like this isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.

Ni-ki groans dramatically, throwing his head back like the sheer weight of responsibility has finally crushed him. "I’ll do them next time. I forgot."

"Next time? You said that last time."

"And sometimes I mean it," Riki retorts, voice dripping with faux innocence.

Jay scoffs. "Right, and sometimes I believe it. Guess which time this is?"

You bite back a laugh, but Riki catches it instantly, turning his head towards you. "Don’t encourage him."

Jay shakes his head. "No, no. Encourage me. Please. It’s about time someone held this idiot accountable."

"Idiot?" Riki scoffs in offense. "I am a victim. You barge in here like I’ve committed a felony."

"You're lucky being a horrible roommate isn't a felony; otherwise, you'd be in jail for being a repeat offender," Jay tsks and rolls his eyes.

"I highly doubt you could take me to court for it either way. Didn't you fail your political science class?"

Jay's lips turn into a straight line. "Man, just get up and do the damn dishes."

"In a minute."

"A minute will turn into an hour which will turn into never. Just come do them."

You watch the back-and-forth like a tennis match, mildly entertained. The banter between them is so natural, so easy, like they’ve been doing this for years. It's the kind of closeness that makes the irritation feel half-hearted — more of a ritual than a real fight.

"If you need them done right now, why can't someone who's not busy do them then."

"Because it's your turn," Jay shoots back. "It's the principle. And you're not even busy."

Ni-ki scoffs. "Uh, yes, I am. I’m entertaining my guest." He gestures toward you as if this somehow solidifies his case.

Jay deadpans. "Well, there's five other people here that are perfectly capable of entertaining her, and I'm sure [name] would prefer them over you anyway." Jay starts walking towards the bed,

Jay takes a step closer, his annoyance wavering just enough for you to see the mischief creeping in.

"What are you doing?" Riki immediately sits up, all false bravado gone. He knows exactly what’s coming. The slow-paced and quiet morning vibe is thrown out the window, you sit up as well and sit cross-legged.

"Getting you to do the damn dishes," Jay says, grabbing Riki by the ankles without another word.

"I said I'd do them in a minute!" Riki turns his body, trying to crawl away from Jay.

"We all know that's not true just come do them now!" Jay tugs again.

"No!"

"You-" Jay tugs harder and pulls Riki halfway off the bed, in desperation, Ni-ki reaches out and latches his hands onto the blankets.

"Wait! I said I’d do them in a minute, I promise!" Riki protests, twisting his body and trying to crawl away like a worm on dry pavement. But Jay tugs, dragging him further off the bed with a grunt.

"We all know that’s not true, just come do them now!"

"No!" The situation is so ridiculous, you can't help but laugh watching them bicker and fight each other.

Jay gives another pull, but Riki, in a last-ditch effort, flails and reaches out — his hands finding your wrists like you’re some lifeline. You’re too caught off guard to move, your laughter bubbling up as he clings to you in mock desperation.

"Let go of me!" You gasp trying to loosen his grip on your wrists, but you’re already laughing too hard to be of any use. Jay’s grip on his ankles remains firm, and the ridiculousness of the scene unfolds around you like a sitcom.

"Get him off!" Jay says through gritted teeth.

"I'm trying!" You gasp, though your attempts to pry Ni-ki’s fingers off are about as effective as swatting at a fly. "He won't let go!"

"I won't let go? Do you not see this lunatic!?"

Riki refuses to release his hold. And somehow, despite the chaos, you don’t feel out of place. If anything, you’re right where you belong.

"Fine then, follow me," Jay says and moves himself to grab under Riki's knees. Getting the idea, you then grab Riki, under his arms this time.

"Hey! What the hell!"

Together, you and Jay lift him off the bed in a mess of flailing limbs and complaints. Riki twists, but Jay has his legs locked down, and you’re holding him firm under the shoulders. The two of you maneuver him down the hallway, ignoring his dramatics as he protests the injustice of it all.

"You guys are being ridiculous," Ni-ki grumbles as you reach the kitchen.

Jay grunts. "You’re ridiculous."

With a final heave, the two of you lay him down directly in front of the sink. Ni-ki sprawls out like a defeated soldier, staring up at the ceiling in silent acceptance of his fate.

"Nice," a voice comes from behind.

You turn to see Jake, lazily sipping from a glass of water as he leans against the kitchen island. His hair is sticking up in every direction, his hoodie practically swallowing him whole. It seems like nobody in this apartment wakes up looking normal. You’re grateful for that, considering your own bedhead and oversized borrowed clothes.

"Oh, [Name], now that you're out here, you should try this curry," Jay says, stepping over Ni-ki like he’s just part of the floor now. He makes his way to the stove, lifting the lid off a pot that sends a wave of rich, savory warmth through the air. "I made it last night, but someone was too busy avoiding the dishes to appreciate it."

"Smells amazing," you say, the rumble in your stomach making itself known as you follow him towards the other side of the kitchen.

"It is," Jake adds, raising his glass like he’s making a toast. "Breakfast of champions."

Ni-ki groans dramatically from the floor. "I don't get any because I'm being oppressed."

"Because you're being lazy," Jay corrects, scooping a generous portion of curry onto a plate of rice and handing it to you.

"Same thing," Ni-ki mumbles.

You suppress a smile, grabbing a spoon Jay hands you and taking your first bite. The curry is warm and flavorful, the perfect balance of spice and comfort. "Woah," you murmur. "This is... actually really good."

"Thank you," Jay grins, smug. "See? That’s the kind of praise I deserve."

"Yeah, whatever," Ni-ki mumbles, still on the floor, though his pout is losing its strength.

Just as you settle into your plate, Sunghoon wanders into the kitchen, his hands tucked deep into the sleeves of his hoodie. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but he brightens when he sees you.

"Morning," he says, voice raspy. Then, in a slightly awkward but endearing motion, he raises a hand to ruffle your hair. Except, he hesitates for a second. His hand hovers uncertainly, like he’s second-guessing the gesture. You catch the flicker of indecision in his eyes before he finally commits, giving your hair a light ruffle.

"Uh... morning," you respond, amused by how he immediately clears his throat and retreats like nothing happened.

"Smooth," Jake comments dryly.

Sunghoon shrugs. "I tried."

Before you can say anything else, Sunoo strolls in with a towel draped around his neck. His skin is practically glowing, the kind of radiant that can only come from a meticulous skincare routine.

"[Name]! I didn't know you were here."

"I'm also here." Riki butts in, still on the floor.

Sunoo leans forward to peek behind the kitchen island where Riki is lying. "Did you sleep in jeans, you freak." You turn to look at him as well, and it actually registers in your mind that Riki is wearing the same clothes from yesterday, jeans and a hoodie. You stifle a laugh.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Ni-ki mutters, knowing Sunoo would explode upon hearing the reason he didn't change into proper sleep wear was because a certain someone started clinging to him before he could.

Heeseung is the next to appear, running a hand through his hair as he slumps against the counter. He’s holding his phone in one hand, scrolling absentmindedly. He glances up and his eyes land on you, his eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes his lips, clearly surprised you're here, but he doesn't question it. "[Name], did you see the new Fortnite shop rotation?"

"Can't say I have," you reply, taking another bite of curry. He waves you over to where he's sitting beside Jake on the kitchen island stools. You comply and make your way to sit on the open stool next to Heeseung.

"Bro," he says, dramatically shaking his head. "They brought the Jujutsu Kaisen skins back, and they added new ones."

Jake sighs. "He’s been talking about it all morning."

"I’m just saying," Heeseung defends, tilting his phone to show you. "Look at this."

You squint at the screen, half-expecting to see something ridiculous — and you're not disappointed.

"Wow," you deadpan. "They added Makito but not Geto"

"Thank you!" Heeseung gestures dramatically. "That's literally what I've been saying." He flails his arms up, exasperated, looking around the kitchen at everyone. But no one is as passionate about Fortnite ship rotations, not at this hour anyway.

"When are you getting a job?" Sunghoon asks, clearly messing with Heeseung. His brows raised, leaning back against the counter next to the fridge, sipping on what looks like a protein drink of some kind.

"You're one to talk, you just started working this year," Riki says, finally rising from his spot on the floor, dusting and adjusting his clothes.

Sunoo snorts, covering his mouth like that would somehow conceal the sound, as he holds a bowl of rice out to Jay to scoop curry onto. Sunghoon, like everyone, hears the sound, and his face scrunches. He sets down his drink and fully turns to Sunoo.

"I don't know why your unemployed ass is laughing, Kim Sunoo." Sunghoon scoffs, but there's no real bite to his words because Sunoo rolls his eyes, still smiling and happily walks over to sit in the seat next to you. "I'm not a part of this." He says, setting his bowl down and then himself, brushing Sunghoon off completely.

It’s so simple — so easy — that you almost forget why you were so worried about seeing everyone. The air is filled with the chatter of boys arguing over shop rotations, Sunoo enthusiastically planning your “skincare awakening,” and Ni-ki half-heartedly washing the dishes with Jay hovering just to make sure he doesn’t quit halfway through. Which Riki finds annoying, you can tell because he asks Jay if he'd like to take a picture, and that just sets them both into another fit of bickering back and forth.

Sunoo is still talking, and you would really love to indulge in the conversation with him. You try— really, you try— to stay focused on Sunoo.

But your attention keeps drifting.

Across the kitchen, Ni-ki's hoodie sleeves are rolled up just past his forearms, lips pulled into a flat line as he half-heartedly scrubs at a plate. Jay's still hovering over his shoulder, close, like a disappointed mother hen, which only makes Ni-ki more dramatic in his suffering. He doesn't look up from the plate when he asks, "Jay, are you about to back hug me? Isn't that a bit romantic for us?"

You're not even listening to what Jay says in response. You're too busy watching the way Ni-ki's hair falls into his eyes, the way he talks with his hands even when they're covered in soap, the way he moves like he's unaware that anyone's watching, but is still effortlessly cool.

You smile before you even realize you're doing it. Sunoo's voice falters. He blinks, then turns to follow your gaze, and instantly he sees it.

And he has to physically stop himself from gasping out loud.

That endearing gaze and love-sick smile of yours was for Ni-ki. Sunoo's sure that if Ni-ki turned and saw how you were looking at him right now, he would drop dead. Or maybe he'd say something stupid, and the love leaking out of your eyes would fly right over his head completely because he really is that oblivious. Sunoo has seen this look many times before, so he's sure he's not misreading the situation. He's seen the way Ni-ki has looked at you, and now you're looking at him. The same way.

When did this happen!?

Sunoo nudges your arm with his. You whip your head towards him like you've just been caught committing a crime. You look like a deer caught in head lights, eyes wide, and a blush crawling up your face. Even though it's clear, you try to play it off anyway.

"Sorry, you were saying? I'm paying attention, I promise." You try to make your voice sound as casual as possible, but the promise at the end of your sentence is an obvious, subtle sign of begging Sunoo not to mention that he just caught you staring.

Sunoo laughs lightly behind his hand. "You sure? Something on your mind?" His voice is teasing; you frantically shake your head. "Or maybe someone?" He adds, raising his eyebrows at you. "Wow, this curry is so good! Sunoo, you should try it!" Your voice is filled with faux excitement as you pick up Sunoos' spoon and scoop a gracious amount of rice and curry onto the spoon.

"But I-" And the spoon is in his mouth before he can say anything that'll pry into you more. You're now aware that everyone's eyes are on both of you, but luckily, they're more focused on laughing at Sunoos puffed cheeks and scornful expression.

Except Ni-ki. He's looking at you. Of course he is.

Except you don't notice. "See? Isn't it delicious?" You're smiling now too, with everyone else, you don't know where the newfound confidence is, but high on everyone's laughter, you ruffle Sunoo's hair.

But from where Sunoo is sitting, he has a clear view of both of you. So he's noticing everything. His eyes flit over to Ni-ki, peeking over his shoulder at you and your hand in Sunoos' hair. And he pouts at that.

"Wow, you fit right in here," Sunghoon says through breathy laughs

You just shrug, a smug smile tugging at your lips. Sunoo swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, shooting you a look of mock offense. "Unbelievable. Betrayed in my own home."

You roll your eyes, turning back to your own bowl, but you're smiling for real now. The easy laughter and chatter filling the kitchen tugs at something warm in your chest. A kind of belonging you're still not used to.

As the conversation shifts, your gaze drifts, scanning the room instinctively. The question feels heavy on your tongue, so heavy you can't help but let it leave your mouth before you can overthink it.

"Uhm, where's Jungwon?"

You try to sound casual, but Sunoo catches the slight pause, the way you fiddle with the edge of your sleeve, like you're trying to act more nonchalant than you feel.

"He went on one of his walks," Jay says from his spot leaning against the counter. "He always does it when he can. He's fine."

You nod, but a quiet guilt settles in your chest

Sunoo watches you for a second longer, then he bumps his shoulder lightly into yours. "Don't worry. He'll be back in like ten minutes max. Probably trying to find a cat to feed or something."

You laugh under your breath, the tension loosening a little. Still, you can't stop yourself from running your fingers along your jaw out of nervousness.

Of course, Sunoo notices. "Something wrong?"

Your eyes shift from the spot on the counter, that you decided was particularly interesting, to Sunoo's. "Oh no- just uh- feeling a little gross I guess. I usually wash my face in the mornings, but I don't have any of my stuff with me." Not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie.

"You didn't bring any of your stuff?"

You shake your head. "No, because someone-" You send a pointed look at Riki's back, while he's unaware and absolutely going in on a bowl with a sponge. "-didn't think to stop at my place to grab anything."

Sunoo leans back in his seat and nudges your arm with his elbow. “Hey, if you wanna freshen up or something, you can use my stuff.”

You blink. “Wait, really? You don’t mind?”

He grins. “Of course not. I have enough skincare to last me three lifetimes. Come on.”

You hesitate for half a second, surprised by how easily the offer came, then nod. “Okay… yeah. Thanks.”

The two of you stand, gathering your empty bowls. When you reach the sink, Riki’s still there, sleeves rolled up and elbow-deep in soapy water. He glances at you as you set your bowl beside the others and narrows his eyes, mock-suspicious.

“Using Sunoo’s routine? Brave.”

You roll your eyes. “What, afraid I’ll come back looking better than you?”

He lets out a soft snort, shaking his head. “Impossible. But I admire the optimism.”

You roll your eyes a mutter a soft 'whatever' before nudging him and walking away with Sunoo. You miss the grin Riki sends you and the way his eyes follow your figure until you've left his field of vision.

You follow Sunoo into the bathroom. The sink counter stretches from wall to wall in front of the shower, along with a line of skincare products ranging from serums to cleansers. Your jaw goes slack. There's even a small fridge in the corner. You open it and crouch to peer into it. Inside are neatly stacked sheet masks and tiny tubs of cream inside "You have so much? This must be so expensive. do you have a side hustle I don't know about?"

Sunoo laughs, watching your amazement at his collection as you inspect every inch of the minifridge. "I wish, I'm just irresponsible with my money."

"You should've opened with that. Now I trust you."

He grins and begins sorting through his collection. "Okay, try this one and then this after." Sunoo slides two bottles over to you. One is an oil cleanser and the other is a regular foaming cleanser. You eye them skeptically. You've used a cleanser before, obviously. But you can't even pronounce the names on the bottles, so you wonder if theres some secret ritual you have to perform to properly apply them.

"So I just- like- rub it in?" You ask, typing your hair back.

"Yes, genius," Sunoo says, gently mocking as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and turns on the warm water for you. "Rub it in gently. Like you're asking your own skin for forgiveness."

You laugh and follow his directions. The two of you settle into a quiet rhythm, and for a moment theres just the sound of running water and soft dabs of towels against your skin. Then:

"So..." Sunoo says casually, leaning against the counter, pretending to be looking for something among the bottles in front of him. "What's up with you and Jungwon?'

You freeze mid-pat. "What?"

"Don't panic, I'm not gossiping," He says quickly, immediately abandoning his fidgeting with his hands up. "I just noticed the vibe earlier. And the way you asked about him in the kitchen."

You glance at the towel in your hands. Unsure of how to start "Oh. Yeah. There was a... thing"

"Like a fight?"

"Not exactly." You pause. "It wasn't really about me, at first. He and Eunchae had some weird tension at work, and it just kind of spilled over. He got short with me. It was small, but it sucked"

Sunoo listens without interrupting. You're grateful for that.

"I didn't say anything when it happened," You continue. "And after that, it just felt too weird and awkward to bring up."

"I get that," Sunoo says softly. "But Jungwon's not the type to let stuff fester. If it was bad enough to bother him, he probably already regrets it."

You glance at him, surprised to hear something similar to what Riki said

"And if he hasn't apologized yet," Sunoo adds, "he will, he's annoying like that. Stubborn but soft-hearted.

You nod, looking down at the marble counter.

Sunoo shifts to sit on the edge of the tub, hands braced beside him. "You were mostly quiet all morning, but when you asked about him. I could tell it was bugging you."

You exhale, long and quiet, mirroring him, and lean against the sink. "Yeah, I just... hate when things are off with people. Especially him, for some reason. It's kind of silly. I barely talked to anyone a few months ago, and now I care if someone's mad at me."

"It's not silly," Sunoo says, smiling and shaking his head. He's happy to have had the chance to talk to you like this. "That's what being close to people is like. It means things matter now. That's a good thing, even if it's annoying sometimes." He's standing up now. Taking his spot beside you again, reaching and unscrewing a tub of moisturizer. He hands it out for you to dab your finger in.

"Thank you, Sunoo." You murmur, glancing at your reflection as you rub the cool cream over your face. You look a little dewy, a little less tired. Lighter even.

Sunoo leans beside you, bumping your shoulder gently. "Of course. I know what it's like to wake up feeling gross with an unwashed face."

You smile. "Honestly, this helped more than I thought it would."

"Good. That's what I'm here for," he says as the two of you begin heading for the door, an unspoken agreement settled between you to return to the kitchen. But the second Sunoo twists the doorknob and pulls it open, two bodies nearly fall into the room on top of both of you.

A panicked "Oh shit-" tumbles out of Riki's mouth before he catches himself on the door frame. Jungwon is more controlled as he jerks upright like he's been yanked up by an invisible string.

Riki blinks at you, "Oh. Hey."

Jungwon clears his throat, brushing invisible lint off his shirt. "What a coincidence."

Sunoo stares at them and scoffs. "What's this?"

Riki straightens up immediately, his voice a little too quick. "We were just walking by."

"You were stood still in front of the door." Sunoo raises a brow.

"No, really, just walking by." Riki insists, taking a small inconspicious step back, as if that'll convince anyone.

"You're still standing in front of the door. You almost fell into the room, you liar!" This disbelief in Sunoo's voice is so sharp it nearly makes you laugh- almost. You're a little too distarcted by the guilty look on Jungwons face, his wide eyes stuck on yours like he's waiting for permission to speak.

"[name]," Jungwon pauses, swallows, and looks away. "I'm really sorry for what happened at work." His voice is quiet and careful. " I thought what Kehoo did was unfair, and I let my frustration out on Eunchae and you."

His gaze lifts to yours again. There's something tender in the way he's looking at you. Sincere, but almost nervous, "You didn't deserve that," He says, "I'm sorry." He lets out a breath after that, like the apology had been sitting in his chest all morning waiting to be let go.

Riki, who's been oddly quiet beside him, jabs an elbow into Jungwon's side.

Jungwon whips his head towards him, confused, until Riki raises his eyebrows, tilting his head in that very obvious "don't forget that thing" kind of way.

"Oh- right!" Jungwon yelps softly, and then immediately starts patting down his jacket pockets.

Finally, after a bit of fumbling, he pulls something from his pocket and holds it out to you in his palm.

A rock. Small, smooth, and naturally shaped like a lopsided heart. You blink, not quite expecting that, but it's in perfect Jungwon fashion, what else could you expect? He presses forward awkwardly, his fingers twitching as if he wants to retract it. Sensing his hesitance, you take it from his hands.

"I found it on my walk this morning," He mutters, scratching the back of his neck. "Thought it looked like a peace offering."

Your eyes flick down to the rock, then back up to him, his hopeful, sheepish smile, and his fidgeting. The apology already softened your heart, but this strange, sweet gesture that only Jungwon would think to do makes your chest feel light.

You smile and turn the rock over in your palm. "It's cute," you say. You step forward, just slightly, and ruffle his hair just enough to mess it up a little “You’re forgiven, Jungwon.”

His grin widens, and a little breath escapes him, like he was holding it in this whole time. The tension between you dissolves in that second, and it’s like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders.

You hadn’t realized just how heavy it felt until now—how much it had been bothering you. But now it’s gone, and the air between you is soft again. Familiar. Easy.

The moment settles quietly. You glance down at the little heart-shaped rock again, smiling to yourself.

Sunoo shifts beside you. You almost forgot he was still standing at your side, quiet through the whole thing—but not in a distant way. In a watching-everything-closely kind of way.

His gaze flicks briefly across the hall—just a second—and you're too preoccupied with Jungwon to notice it, catching a glimpse of Ni-ki, still hovering in the doorway. His expression is hard to pin down: blank, maybe. Too blank. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes dart away the second he notices you looking.

You don’t catch it. But Sunoo does.

He doesn’t say anything. Just tucks the observation away like a note to himself, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly before he turns back to you.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝

The living room is alive with sound — the chaotic clatter of Mario Kart, the overlapping laughter and curses, the shriek Sunoo lets out when Heeseung bumps him off Rainbow Road. Jay lounges smugly in the recliner like a king on a throne, sipping soda and giving play-by-plays no one asked for. Jungwon and Jake are locked in a heated rivalry, shoulders hunched, necks craned, fingers jabbing at the controllers with full-body intensity.

And still, somehow, it feels peaceful.

You’re tucked into the loveseat beside Riki, knees barely brushing, a throw pillow squished awkwardly between you that neither of you have addressed. You’re half-listening to the bickering, lips curved in a faint smile as Jake groans dramatically at yet another banana peel sabotage.

Then Riki bumps your elbow — gentle, but enough to steal your focus. He tilts his head toward you, voice just loud enough to be heard under the noise.

“So,” he says, his grin faint but persistent, “any updates on the Christmas thing?”

You exhale through your nose, already regretting telling him. “You’re obsessed.”

“I’m invested,” he corrects, leaning in just a little. “Big difference.”

“You brought it up, like, three times today.”

“And I’ll keep going until you give in.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s manipulative.”

“That’s effective.”

You squint at him, but there’s no real heat to it. “I don’t even know why I told you. It’s dumb. I just… I wanted to ask you guys, but I kept overthinking it.”

His smile softens. “That doesn’t sound dumb to me.”

You shift in your seat, glancing at the others — but no one’s paying you any mind. Jay is arguing with Jake now, accusing him of screen-watching. Jungwon is grinning with his tongue out in concentration, and Sunoo is loudly declaring that the game is rigged.

Still, you lower your voice. “It just feels... weird. I'm used to being- rejected, I guess. I kind of stopped trying after a while. It made things easier.” You shift your gaze from the throw pillow, now smushed between you, to Riki. "And I don't want to revisit that feeling."

He's quiet for a second, his eyes studying you like he’s trying to memorize your expression. “But you’re trying again now.”

You nod once, small.

He leans in, the pillow between you long forgotten. “I think that’s brave.”

You roll your eyes, but it comes out weak. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” His tone dips a little lower — serious now, in the way that always catches you off guard. “I know it’s hard for you. To ask. To be the one to reach out first. But look at you now. You’re different than you were then, and so are the people you're around.”

You blink, startled by the way the words settle into your chest. He’s not teasing now. He really means it.

“I don’t want it to be awkward,” you murmur.

“It won’t be,” he says, like it’s obvious. “You don’t have to turn it into some big, dramatic invite. Just say it. No pressure. And if it helps, I’ll start it for you.”

You look at him then — really look — and for a moment, you forget there are six other people in the room. Forget the clatter of buttons and the yelling and the video game music in the background. His eyes are steady on yours, warm and sure.

“You’re kind of sweet, you know that?” you say, lips twitching.

He smirks. “Only kind of?”

You shrug. “I have to keep you humble.”

Riki opens his mouth, probably to fire something back, but—

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Jay’s voice cuts through the moment like a knife.

You both flinch, turning in unison like you’ve been caught passing notes in class.

But Riki doesn’t miss a beat. “Just talking about winter break.”

He leans forward a bit, voice casual but loud enough for the others to hear. “[Name]'s got plans. Was inviting us over, actually.”

You startle slightly, your eyes flicking to Riki like seriously? but he only smiles at you — the kind of small, confident smile that says you’ve got this.

You clear your throat, shifting under the weight of suddenly being the center of attention. “Um... yeah. My mom’s throwing this Christmas dinner thing. A couple days before the actual holiday. She told me I should invite you guys, if… if you wanted to come.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Sunoo blinks, eyes wide. “Wait—your mom knows about us?”

You nod slowly. “I might’ve… mentioned you a few times.”

Sunoo places a hand over his heart. “That’s actually so sweet. I feel touched.”

“Is there Food involved?” Jake asks, already sitting up straighter.

"She just said it's a dinner party, genius."

You huff a quiet laugh. “Lots of it. Korean dishes, but also Western stuff. My mom likes to go all out.”

“Oh, I’m in,” Jungwon says immediately.

“Me too,” Heeseung echoes. “No way I’m passing that up.”

One by one, the others chime in — a chorus of easy agreement, layered with jokes about who's bringing what and whether anyone needs to dress up.

Just like that, the tension you’d been holding evaporates. No awkward silence. No hesitation. Just... warmth.

The conversation drifts back to the game naturally, pulled along by a shout from Sunghoon as Jay hits him with a red shell.

Riki nudges you again, shoulder to shoulder.

When you turn to him, he doesn’t say much — just glances at you, eyes gleaming, and murmurs, “See? Told you.”

You sink back into the cushions, letting the noise of the room wrap around you. The living room glows with soft lamp light and louder voices— someone's screaming about being blue-shelled, Sunoo screaming injustice, Sunghoon attempting to argue with Heeseung about tapping you in to save his terrible track record of past races, and Riki sitting closely beside you.

It's strange, the way comfort can sneak up on you. How quickly warmth can build in a space that once felt impossible to belong in. Maybe it wasn't about saying the perfect thing or waiting for the right moment— maybe it was just about trying. Saying something. Letting people in.

Your gaze flicks sideways, just in time to see Riki laughing at the screen like he hasn't just completely shifted your world with a quiet nudge and a few soft words.

You feel a continuous thud behind your ribs. Familiar now. Heavy and certain.

#No One Noticed 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 #enhypen fluff #ni ki smau #enha fluff #ni ki x reader #nishimura riki smau #nishimura riki x reader #ni ki fluff #nishimura riki fluff #enhypen smau

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