#I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS DEAREST ANON

[plistommy]

I always love a jealous tommy fic. There's so much to explore there. Did he and steve "practice" when they were younger? How does he feel now seeing steve almost blatantly hanging off of another man (eddie or billy, or both hehe)? It's so delicious that tommy in canon obviously assumed steve would always be His, that he was bound to be asshole king steve with tommy forver, and then steve went and changed. Replaced him with someone else. Discarded him. I love when it's so obvious that tommy didnt even maybe respect steve as a person, just the roll steve "the hair" harrington was and now, seeing steve be allowed to just be himself, shamelessly, with another man must make tommy's blood boil. He missed his chance

Tommy felt like he would puke.

There Steve was, laughing so loudly and sweetly with Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson on both sides of him, looking at him with such loving eyes that Tommy would love to rip them off and spit on them.

The three of them were hanging at their schools parking lot, Steve perched on top of his beemer as the other two leaned on it. The freak had clearly made some type of joke, because Steve was letting out a ’You’re so funny, Eds!’ as he tried to catch his breath.

The nickname made Tommy fume with rage.

Eds? What the actual fuck was Tommy hearing?

Four years back he and Steve would make fun of that guy, even bullying him a little when he started to wear those freaky ass clothes. People rumored him being into Satan or some shit and Steve and Tommy totally bought it as they laughed at him in the hallways.

And now Steve was throwing himself at the guy as he leaned towards him, hand lingering a little bit too long on the older man’s shoulder.

Tommy saw how Billy, the asshole who had dropped him almost immediately once he got to know Steve, moved his hand to rest on Steve’s thigh in a friendly way from other curious eyes, but Tommy could see through the bullshit.

He knows what those three are. What they do together.

They aren’t just friendly buddies who come together about sports and music and talk about hitting on girls.

They’re together. Partners of some sort which makes Tommy fucking sick in his stomach.

He knew Eddie was into guys the second he saw the freak, Billy probably too, but he wasn’t that sure.

It was only confirmed when he saw the way Billy looked at Steve the first time they showered together after PE.

Everyone looked at Steve once that way. With desire and want.

Wanting to have a taste of The Steve Harrington. Of the King. The rich pretty boy with the charm no one had.

Tommy knew it the best, because that’s how he had felt.

He had felt it when him and Steve had kissed for the first time, hands lingering on each other’s body when Steve had carefully leaned down and put those soft lips onto his.

Or when he had fucked Steve the first time. Those eyes so huge as they stared up at him when Tommy had clumsily lined his dick into the other’s waiting hole. And oh did those eyes go huge as Steve took him in so well, like no one has after him. How he had begged for Tommy’s name, told him he loved him.

And Tommy had loved him back.

Still fucking did.

But then he had fucked it up. Played with the other’s feelings, fucking up with his head which eventually made Steve leave him, his best friend, for fucking Nancy Wheeler. Things had broken that little head of Steve’s too many times and he had finally shattered, showing that sensitive and humane side of him that Tommy knew he was always hiding behind his King Steve persona.

The side he had hated. Because he liked it when Steve was mean.

He blamed the hits Jonathan Byers had given him.

That maybe those made a screw inside Steve’s head loose because how could he ever even think about leaving Tommy like that? After everything?

But he had.

And it made Tommy furious. Sad. Jealous.

Because that should’ve been him up there with Steve right now. Holding onto the boy's thigh and maybe kiss a little if no one was around.

Tommy would give him all the attention he needed. Would’ve fucked him so good no one else would’ve mattered. Steve would’ve never even thought about spreading his legs to Eddie Munson or Billy fucking Hargrove.

Just for Tommy.

”What’s up your ass?” Carol asked, focused on putting her disgustingly sweet lip gloss on, but not enough to not catch Tommy’s suddenly grumpy vibes.

”Nothing.” Tommy groaned out and took a bite of his sandwich.

It tasted bitter now.

Carol brushed it off, going back to chatting with Tina who was sitting beside her, oblivious to whatever Tommy was doing. Not like she really cared. Tommy was sure they’d break up soon, again.

Not that he’d mind.

He glanced back towards Steve and gritted his teeth when he saw the trio start to get in Steve’s car, all happy and smiley because they had ’so much fun’ together.

Ugh.

He didn’t miss how Munson patted Steve’s ass softly when he was bending down to the passenger seat and wait… what the fuck?

Was Billy fucking driving Steve’s car?

Steve never let anyone else drive it. He was too afraid to. Never trusted anyone else with it because his Daddy would get mad if it had even a small scratch on it.

Tommy never drove it.

And that pissed him the hell off, because Billy Hargrove of all people can?

The man with three fucking speeding tickets?

His blood was boiling.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the car.

Not even when his eyes locked with those big brown ones that suddenly looked worried when Tommy didn’t look away.

#I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS DEAREST ANON #I looove jealous tommy as well! Can’t believe I haven’t written him in so long #TOO BAD BABY BOY BUT STEVE GOT OTHER MEN NOW #steve harrington #tommy hagan #eddie munson #billy hargrove #stommy #harringroveson #metalsandwich #stranger things #my writing #prompt #ask #anon

[seelestia]

how do you always know its me, tell me your secrets

my dearest brainrot anon, it's just the ✨ intuition ✨

#your texting style is recognizable in a way! (/pos) #it's like reading unsigned post-it notes on my front door LMAOAOOA #also you are so real. dainsleif is unnaturally pretty (even more if it weren't for the fact that he doesn't likes leaving others sm /j) #I HOPE YOUR SHENHE PULLS WENT WELL BTW! I KNEW YOU WANTED HERRR #ask box! 📬 #visitor: dearest brainrot anon! 💭

[janaispunk]

28 "No one ever cared about me like you." for Joel or Marcus Pike, please?? Thank you for writing all this amazing stuff for us <3

no one can hurt you now

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: ~1.2k

summary: You’ve been traveling through the country with Joel and Ellie. After finally arriving in the safety of Jackson, you realize how much Joel means to you.

tags/warnings: post outbreak, mentions of infected, fighting and blood, reader doesn’t value her life that much tbh, angst, anxiety, comfort, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n (please let me know if i missed something <3)

a/n: dearest anon, thank you so much for your kind words and for sending this prompt in! this started out as a drabble but got out of control, so i hope you enjoy this little fic 🫶🏻

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is amazing <3

full masterlist here / follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates!

The clicker’s teeth snap at you inches away from your face, your arms straining desperately to hold the creature off. A shot rings through the air and the clicker stills as blood splatters across your face.

You push the now lifeless weight off of you and try to stand back up, your shaky legs underneath you barely cooperating.

“Thanks,” you mutter, gasping for breath.

“The fuck was that?” Joel barks, the gun still grasped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles are turning white.

“It was- running at Ellie, I just-“

You’ll admit that you hadn’t really thought it through when you lunged at the clicker that had charged in the girl’s direction without any weapons in your hands. Not her, had been the only clear thought in your head. She wasn’t replaceable.

You were.

“You just what? Thought you’d get yourself killed?”

“No! I don’t know, okay? I still bought us time, and you got it, so-”

You don’t like the way he’s glaring at you, like you did something fundamentally wrong. You took a risk, yes, but his main objective is taking the girl across the country. You’re just… there.

“So?! Fuckin’ stupid, is what it was,” he snaps before he turns around abruptly and stomps further into the abandoned house that you’re hoping to spend the night in. You wait until your legs finally stop trembling before you follow him.

It’s the middle of the night when Joel finally speaks to you again. You had settled down in one of the bedrooms on the upper floor, not before searching the house extra thoroughly after the clicker incident earlier.

You can hear Ellie’s soft snores from across the room and you would have sworn that Joel was asleep too. Your mind didn’t rest, replaying the scene over and over, the way Joel snapped at you making your chest hurt each time.

“You don’t get to not make yourself a priority, you hear me? I won’t let you.”

You flinch at the unexpected sound from his corner of the room, but his voice is gentle, like he’s approaching a scared animal.

“But Ellie-” you still try to protest.

“I care about Ellie just as much as you do.” He hesitates for a second. “But I also care about you.”

You feel heat flushing your cheeks and you avert your gaze, even though it’s too dark for him to see your face anyway.

“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, “she’s the one that matters.”

“So do you,” he grumbles.

“Not like her.”

He heaves a sigh and you hear him moving closer to you in the darkness.

“Listen to me.” His tone is gruff, but you can feel the intensity behind his words. “I couldn’t- shit, I couldn’t do this alone. Just take care of yourself. Don’t be stupid. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree in a hushed voice.

You know that this is the closest that Joel Miller will ever get to admitting that he doesn’t hate you. You try to fight the feeling, but warmth is spreading through your chest at the thought that he actually wants you around, that he’s not just letting you tag along because he doesn’t know what else to do with you.

It’s your first real night in Jackson, the first time that you’ve arrived at a place and didn’t immediately make plans on where to go next. The first night that you’re spending in a real bed in god knows how long. The first night that you don’t have to sleep with one eye open, always waiting for the next danger to find you.

And the first night in a bed with Joel. Neither of you had protested when you were assigned to one house with him and Ellie. You know what Joel and you look like, from the outside. You don’t think that you care, not really.

The house has three bedrooms anyway, so it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you thought, until you had all said good night to each other and you were lying alone in the darkness, wide eyes staring up at the dark ceiling, as you were trying to stop the anxious shivers running through your body.

It was too quiet, the mattress too soft, the room too… empty. You had gotten used to the steady breathing of two other people around you, and now that they weren’t in the room with you, everything felt wrong. What if you woke up tomorrow to find them both dead, to find yourself alone in the world once more? How were you supposed to make sure they were safe when you weren’t with them?

Before you could overthink it, you got up, checked on Ellie who was sleeping soundly and padded over to the room Joel was in.

“Can’t sleep?” his low drawl had greeted you as soon as you cracked the door open.

You wordlessly shook your head and he sighed.

“Me neither. Doesn’t feel right like this, does it?”

That’s how you ended up under the covers next to him. No touching of course, both of you keeping a firm distance. This was just so you could both catch some sleep. Just for tonight.

Except that you’re still not able to let sleep drag you under. Your body is tense, acutely aware of his presence next to you, his body heat easily traveling the short distance between you. You could bridge it just as easily, just reach your hand out to - do what, exactly?

You huff out a breath and turn onto your side, shuffling the sheets with your movement.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice is barely above a whisper and before you can open your mouth to respond, his fingers find your face and graze over your cheek in a barely there contact.

He had touched you before, of course, checking you for injuries, soothing you with a hand on your arm or a brush over your hair, but never like this. Never in the darkness of the night and never when you could sense the tension in the air between you, could almost feel his breath on your face. You have never been so acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers that’s seeping into your skin right now.

“I just- I never thanked you for taking me here, for taking care of me.”

It’s not what’s on the forefront of your mind, not the thing that’s plaguing you in this moment, but it’s still true, and much easier than admitting to him that feeling his body so close right next to yours has you practically burning up, has your fingers itching to touch him, to breathe him in.

Joel hums.

“You don’t have to. Of course I did that.”

You try swallowing the lump that suddenly builds in your throat.

“No one ever cared about me like you,” you admit in a whisper.

“Hey,” Joel mumbles, alarmed at the thickness of unshed tears in your voice, “come here, sweetheart.”

Both of his arms reach towards you and his hands splay over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. His warmth engulfs you and you feel the tension in your body subsiding as you’re resting your head over his steady heartbeat.

“We’re safe now,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging - nothing would make me happier 🤍

#janas fics #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories

[scoutswritingcorner]

I love Cat Alastor!! would you do one where Alastor and The cat are forced to spend time together after being left alone when Reader has to do errands.

Supply Run

Platonic Cat Alastor x Reader Ft Alastor x Reader

TW:Alastor not liking Cat Alastor. 

A/N: YES BIG BRAIN ANON- BIG BRAIN!! Also I hope you like it, it got chaotic.

You picked up Catastor for what felt like the 30th time today as you tried to leave to go get some errands done. It’s not that you didn’t want to leave him in the hotel but last time he went with you he ate three random sinners who looked at you for too long. Loud radio static echoed through the halls as you walked back to your room, Catastor tucked in your arms as he tried to swat your hands away. He knew what you were doing and he hated it as much as you did.

Rounding the hallway and entering your room, you plopped the cat onto your bed. “Listen here, I know you want to come with me but you can’t..please just stay here? I’ll be back before you know it.” You crouched down, getting down onto his eye level causing him to growl before carefully pawing at your nose in protest before he jumped off the bed and walked to the door, you sighed and sat down. You really had to get those errands done today. As you listened to the radio playing in the background an idea popped into your head, your husband wasn’t as busy as he usually was. He could watch over this little cat.

You picked Catastor up and exited your room, walking to where you knew you would find your husband. “Alastor~ My darling buck~” You called out entering the foyer watching as he looked up at you, his ears swiveling towards your voice. “Yes, Dear?~” He hummed watching you walk over, placing your little bodyguard onto his lap as loud static erupted throughout the foyer making his smile tighten. “Dearest..why are you putting your..bodyguard on my lap?” He asked, voice strained as he held his arms up glaring down at his replacement. You leaned down placing a gentle kiss to your husband's cheek as you hummed, “I need to get errands done before the day ends. Watch him for me, Al?” You said pouting as he sent you a half hearted glare, “Please?” You whined causing him to sigh.

“Fine, only for you I suppose.” He growled out as you smiled at him. “I’ll pay you back, Dear.” You whispered watching his ears twitch angrily before swiftly making your exit. Alastor looked down at the cat in his lap. “Don’t you try a single thing.” He snarled out his eyes flickering to radio dials as the cat hissed at him in return.

~~~

It had been 25 minutes since you were gone and now Alastor was using his tentacles to hold up the cat as Nifty ran around cleaning up the mess the cat had made. “You are a little nuisance.” He snarled out, jacket ripped (even more than it was) as his eyes twitched. How much longer are you going to be out? The cat hissed and snarled its own smaller tentacles appearing out of its back, trying to swipe at his, “I don’t see what my darling sees in you.” He hissed out holding the cat higher as punishment, “Now I must go see my tailor once more since you couldn’t keep your little claws off of it.” 

This was going to be a long day for him.

~~~

An hour. You were gone for an hour. So it surprised you to see your husband sitting on the couch, reading a book, his jacket almost torn to bits as Catastor was taped to the wall above his head. You didn’t say anything seeing as your husband was already on the verge of ripping someone’s head off. You simply walked over and leaned down in front of him, quickly catching his gaze. Everyone had scurried away from the foyer to not incur Alastor’s wrath if he chose to let it loose, which he would have no doubt about it. He lifted his head as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a silent apology to help calm his nerves and one he happily took for now. 

Pulling away to look at the damage done to his beloved jacket. “I’ll take it to the tailor for you,” You hummed watching as his ears seemingly relaxed despite how his smile seemed even more thin and his nose scrunched up, “As payback, dear.” You finished off watching him silently nod to your suggestion before he had moved over so you could sit next to him. You looked up to Catastor to see him glaring at your husband but also calming down enough to seemingly fall asleep near your presence. He could get out if he needed.

New rule: Don’t leave them together.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader #cursed cat alastor

[cherubfae]

I'm the anon who asked if you write for mammon and adam. I just sent the ask in, but regardless of your reply i was wondering of you could write the hazbin cast +helluva boss cast (the ones you write obviously) with a super sleepy slot like s/o? Like they sleep all the dam time and are still tired as hell, so tired they literally fall to the ground while walking in silence for too much, they sit down for a second and go out cold. They move so slow it's incredible, theyre always super clingy and always hanging on by their shoulder, It's very concerning.

lmao this made me cackle. Here ya go, sweets! Apologies if you wanted something serious, I literally couldn't 😭😭 just had lunch with my mama to celebrate her belated bday and I'm very full

sloth!like partner || hazbin/helluva boss x reader

tags: fluff, comedy, this is probably mostly crack lmao, established relationships

Alastor

Okay but remember him with the Egg Bois? That's essentially him waiting for you to get ready for your date. What feels like an eternity was only roughly thirty seconds. He hopes you haven't fallen asleep in the bathroom.

"Dearest... I could just teleport you to places with my shadow provided I'm somewhere near." He suggests. It takes him a while to get used to any sort of physical contact so he's not crazy about the clinginess and does what he can to establish boundaries if and when he feels comfortable doing so.

Lucifer

Haha! You're so adorable! He actually quite likes having you on his arm, though sometimes not literally. It's comical watching you climb him and then slowly lose your energy halfway to his shoulders and slow-motion crash land towards the ground. Rinse and repeat.

Husk

By now he's quite used to you falling asleep, especially on him. You tucker yourself out so easily, he wonders what tricks Belphegor has up their sleeves lately. Husk loves you for who you are, but he is rather curious if there's anything that can cure or at least lessen your narcoleptic behaviors.

Angel Dust

Constantly cracking jokes and puns. Some of them can come off as a little mean though it's never intended to hurt your feelings. Though, he does know not to make the 'slow-burn romance' jokes every time you guys have a date night.

Vox

He's gotten used to you being constantly sleepy and rather sluggish. He does wonder if you are, in fact, a Hellborn from Sloth instead of a Sinner sometimes or if you drew the short straw. Vox is typically okay if you're constantly sleepy and a bit sluggish, but he is a fast-paced guy and likes all aspects of his life to progress at a decent speed; romance included.

Blitzø

Deadass he's watching you slowly drag yourself face-down along the ground with a soft skrrrr skrrrr along the cement. Honestly he's surprised you made it on Earth as long as you did. This was amusing but the more you, literally, drag on Blitz isn't sure what he should do. He's probably gonna start driving everywhere. Gotta keep pollutin' bb.

Loona

With how often you sleep, Loona isn't sure how you still manage to be so tired all the time. It honestly perplexes her but she's learned to roll with it. If you're moving too slowly for her liking, she'll pick you up and carry you off like royalty-- or if you're small like Millie, Loona is gonna commit you to her backpack transit indefinitely.

Striker

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"Ya'llright, darlin'?" He asked with a raised brow. You just ate shit and aren't currently really doing anything about getting back into the upright position. Striker's tail swishes curiously and he gently prods you with his boot, heaving a sigh when you move.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel x you #helluva boss x you #helluva boss imagines #helluva boss x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #blitz x reader #loona x reader #cherubfae 2024

[chuluoyi]

enduring love

- nanami kento x reader

love is kind. love is patient. Nanami Kento taught you all that—love and the absolute durability it brings.

genre/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—in the form of soft sex, pregnancy

notes: based on a whole package request an anon sent me a while ago. there isn't much i can say without spoiling... just that i love soft loving nanami :( check out a very recommended track for this piece!

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Nanami Kento was not your first love, but he was the one who taught you about love that endures, even against the worst of odds.

Haibara Yu was your boyfriend when he died, giving his life in exchange of yours and Nanami’s. And his death destroyed you, leaving you devastated, as you not only lost your childhood best friend but also a significant part of yourself.

And he made Nanami promise something to him—taking care of you. And of course, Nanami would. Even if Haibara didn’t ask for it, he would. Because when it came to you, he was willing to do anything.

He couldn’t say it back then, that he was already and utterly in love with you.

You were so grateful for his sheer presence. With Nanami by your side, you felt a sense of security and comfort, which helped to fill the void left by Haibara to some extent.

“Thank you for checking up on me. I’m fine,” you had said to him with a soft smile. You remembered it clearly—it was Haibara’s second death anniversary. You still shed tears before his picture at the columbarium hall, but you meant it when you said you were fine.

“That’s... good then.” Nanami didn’t look like he was convinced, but he nodded regardless.

“You can stop doing it now, you know,” you mumbled with a sigh. It wasn’t fair to him, you realized it from the get-go, but unconsciously, you too needed him to cope with your dearest’s death. “It’s never your responsibility in the first place. I’m… thankful that you’re always there for me.”

At that time, Nanami was already in love with you, but he was also a coward. A coward who had decided to leave the jujutsu world behind, and so he took your words and left with a broken heart. But unbeknownst to him, you would never forget how he looked—downcast eyes, clenched fist, as if you had told him to begone altogether.

In the years that he spent away from curses and the sorrow that followed, he did try to forget about you, but in the end, he just couldn’t. You were like sunshine that brightened his younger, happier days. To him, your existence helped him to get past Haibara’s death too. And his love for you was already engraved in him by default, even if he couldn’t act on it.

Nanami’s departure hurt you more deeply than you thought. You were incredibly lonely. Gojo and Shoko were there, but it hardly filled the void left by his absence. They say life goes on, and so you continued to live the life Haibara had saved for you, with the hope that someday, Nanami would return.

Life is funny because no one can predict how it turns out. Nanami found it ironic, that he left only to come back.

But when he saw you again after four years, still the same but even more beautiful than ever, with tears in your eyes as you welcomed him back, he thought it was all worth it.

“I’m… glad,” you muttered amidst the flowing tears, trying to wipe it away in embarrassment. “Sorry, ugh… I didn’t mean to cry. It’s just that it’s been so long…”

And Nanami only laughed at that. A genuine chuckle. Your heart soared at the sight.

He was different. He no longer sported that geeky haircut. Now he was suave, neat and of course—handsome. You never realized how attractive he was until now.

“I missed you too, Y/N,” he said with a warm smile. To him, the fact that you cried at his expense was enough to make him happy. It signified that you regarded him as an important presence in your life, and that was enough for him.

“Are you doing this temporarily?” you asked warily afterwards.

He responded with a thoughtful hum. "I believe... no, I've concluded that this is way better than my previous banking job. At least here, I can fully utilize my abilities."

Your eyes seemed to glimmer with something at his response.

“Then, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Can you…” Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you asked, but you brushed it aside. “Can you promise me that you… won’t leave again?”

It was as if everything he had known was nullified with that question. Nanami had always assumed he might hold significance in your life, but he thought that to you, he was dispensable.

"Yeah, I won't," he said resolutely. "I won't leave again, Y/N."

On that day, he came to the realization that it was perfectly fine for him to express these feelings for you now.

To outsiders' point of view, it was bound to happen anyway. Gojo had always known that Nanami held this not-so-hidden affection for you and wholeheartedly supported him when he witnessed the effort he put into pursuing those feelings. It was comical really, that you heard it first not from Nanami himself but rather from him.

You remembered that day too—he was so furious at Gojo that he kicked him out. He looked so embarrassed. Granted, this was not at all how he had envisioned confessing to you.

"I won't hide it any further. I... have been harboring these feelings for you." He couldn't even look at you in the eyes. The two of you were no longer those teenagers in Jujutsu High, but oddly it was hard to say it out loud. "You're free to reject me, of course—"

"Nanami Kento." It bugged you, how formal he was acting around you, and no, you were done with this too. You returned his feelings, had been for a while now. "We should just get together."

And just like that, you were finally in a relationship. It was long road to reach this point, and yet it was only the beginning.

Nanami was supportive, affectionate, and ready to shield you from any harm. You loved him with all your heart. Whenever you two visited Haibara's memorial, he would grip your hand tighter and reassure you of his presence, and if there was one thing you were certain of regarding Haibara, it was that he would have complete trust in Nanami to care for you.

Birthdays, anniversaries, and other milestones, you two celebrated it together. It was almost picture perfect—you were so happy together, as if you were made for each other.

"Kento," you gasped when you opened the gift box he had gotten for your birthday, discovering a pristine watch inside. "This..."

"Do you like it?" he asked softly, smiling, brushing your hair aside. His eyes crinkled with delight when he saw your elated expression.

"I love it!" you exclaimed heartily. And normally you wouldn't be this impulsive, but since it was your birthday, surely you could afford a whim or two.

You kissed him on the cheek, making a playful smooching sound that left him pleasantly reeling and flustered.

You dated him for two years. In those two starling years, Nanami proved to be an exceptional boyfriend. You were confident that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and he felt the same way about you.

Regardless, when he dropped down on one knee with a ring box in his hand, you still couldn't help but tear up.

"Will you marry me?" He knew the answer already, but he was determined to make it the most memorable day of your life, with him promising his undying love for you.

Through tears, happiness and everything else, you laughed. A free laugh that conveyed your love for him. "Yes!"

The two of you were married for three years, and Nanami was the best husband you could ask for, and being his wife was the honor you'd never turn down no matter how many times you were asked. If there was one thing you'd rather see less from him though, perhaps it was his tendency to rush headfirst into danger.

Once, he went back home with bloodied side and you immediately rushed and fussed over him with concern.

"What sort of cursed spirit did you face?" your hands were shaking as you dabbed alcohol to his wound. He wasn't usually injured, so this came as a shock.

Nanami winced, but he still smiled, trying to convince you that he was fine.

He didn't want to tell you about it, because frankly, even he didn't know that much. He only knew that his attacks weren't effective against that sadistic cursed spirit with stitches all over his body.

"It was an accident, love," Nanami brushed it aside. "I just made a mistake is all."

"Still!" you lips quivered at the possible worst scenario. "Couldn't you just run away?"

"It was not that easy... I had Gojo's student with me too, I couldn't just leave him to face a special grade alone now, could I?"

Your expression turned horrified, and he regretted his slip. "Special grade...?"

You were like a flower, and Nanami cherished you greatly. He hated seeing you in distress, especially if it was caused by him.

You had to understand eventually, because you were a jujutsu sorcerer too. In this line of work, nothing is guaranteed. So you looked down and let out a sigh. "Can you promise me something, Kento?"

"Of course. Anything for you, love."

"If it ever gets too dangerous—if you sense that your life is in danger," you locked eyes with him, your gaze filled with determination and hope. "Please. I beg of you. Just run. Come back to me."

And he nodded, pulling you to his bare chest, as you sniffled against him. "Yes, dear. I will. I promise. Don't cry now, okay?"

Witnessing your tears never sat right with him, and he was willing to do whatever it took to erase that sadness.

The way he caressed you so fondly and gently was how he proved the extent of his love for you. A love that had been brewing for twelve years, ever since he was a first year in this unforgiving jujutsu world, only able to keep his crush hidden away at the furthermost corner of his heart as he saw you with someone else, until now, much later, as your husband who was yours as much as you were his.

Your body reacted with each of his tender touch. Your cheeks lighted up with the most adorable color of red, and lust was evident in your eyes. As Nanami towered over you, shushing you with soft words and asked you where you wanted to be touched, he was trying his hardest to be patient.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear. "Tell me how I can make you feel better."

You were too shy to tell him, so you guided his hand to where you wanted to be touched the most, and then before you knew it, you were letting out several moans, unable to hold them in.

Nanami was always well in preparing you. He had to at least make you cum once or twice before actually inserting himself in you. Because your needs and comfort always came before his.

His thrusts were slow but deep, with your legs wrapping around his waist. He kissed every inch of your body that he could reach, worshipping you, reveling in your blushed face.

And when he came inside you, filling you full and warm with his seed, you felt nothing but sheer relief and bliss. The aftercare was wonderful too, as Nanami made sure that you were comfortable—cleaning you up and tucking you in, kissing your tears away.

Shortly after, you became pregnant. It wasn't unexpected, with all your intimate activities. It was a whole new experience entirely, and the two of you were looking forward to it, as the baby inside you grew day by day. You wanted a son, whereas he wanted a daughter who looked just like you.

You wanted this life with him. You wanted to grow old together with him, along with your baby too. And that was why, when Nanami was about to leave for Shibuya, you were sick with worry, a hand on your noticeable bump.

"Do you really have to go?" You wanted to cry, yell, and drag those in headquarters to see you—a wife carrying a child. How could they separate a vulnerable wife from her husband?

Nanami pulled you into his arms, consoling you. "It's going to be okay, Y/N. I'll be back once all of this is over."

"They named Gojo already. And for a curtain of that density to be pulled down—" your voice hitched painfully. "Kento, it must be a well-thought plan. I'm afraid for you, please."

To be honest, he didn't know how it would play out. This was a large-scale attack and every jujutsu sorcerer in the country was summoned in response. As much as he feared for himself, he had to, because it was his responsibility, and doing this would keep you safe.

With the tearful farewell and final touch on your belly to feel his baby kick him, Nanami left you to march towards the battlefield.

Life is funny because you never know how it turns out. Nanami once again came to see just how unforgiving this jujutsu world was when Gojo was sealed and half of his body was burnt beyond repair.

He wouldn't be able to make it back home now.

His chest constricted at how he wouldn't be able to go back to your arms again, or see you give birth to his child. Even though he had planned everything—in his dream, he would take you to Kuantan, away from jujutsu and live the rest of your lives there in peace.

This world was cruel to him, but all he could hope now was that it would spare you. He was sorry to leave you again. He was sorry to break his promise. He was so sorry that you would go through the anguish of losing someone precious again, because this time, it was even greater than when you lost Haibara.

He wasn't ready to leave you, but when he saw Itadori Yuji sprinting towards him, suddenly he was certain. Because when he saw his face, all he could see was the fact that he could trust him with everything.

Perhaps it was what Haibara felt when he trusted you to him.

"You've got it from here." He smiled at Yuji, as the boy looked towards him in pure terror.

Was it a figment of his imagination? Because he could see Haibara in front of him now, with that energetic smile of his.

A bloodcurdling scream escaped your lips when Yuji arrived in front of your doorsteps to inform you of Nanami's death. You were wailing and utterly inconsolable, especially when he told you that not even his remains were left.

You didn't know what to do. You just sat there, sobbing your heart out in Yuji's arms until you passed out. The next thing you knew was that you were in your bed, with the boy sleeping on your bedside table in a very awkward position.

You recalled the envelope from your husband that Yuji gave you last night. You scrambled for it, and found two plane tickets and a letter.

Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm not sure why I'm writing this either, but I can't leave you with nothing in case I didn't make it. First and foremost, I want you to know that I love you. So much more than you can imagine. Ever since our first year, and up until now and forevermore. I love you. With this, I'm letting you know that I've booked a flight for Kuantan for you and Itadori-kun as well, but I have a feeling that he wouldn't come with you. Even if he doesn't, I beg of you, please just go. I want you and our baby safe and away from all of this. Lastly, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you again. I'm sorry that I can't see and raise our child with you. You don't have to forgive me. Know that I'll be doing my best to come back to you, but if fate doesn't spare me, then please know that with all of heart, I love you and I won't leave you if I can afford it. You have changed the course of my life, and I'm grateful for it. Falling in love with you is my greatest joy, I want you to know that.

A bout of tears overcame you and woke Yuji up. You felt your insides churn with dread and your baby kick you with such fervor that it hurt. He was gone, really gone, leaving you in this perilous world alone.

And yet, to his last breath, all he could think of was you. It hurt so much, and yet you were glad, that you could light up his world the way he described it. His greatest joy.

Nanami Kento's love for you, the one he once endured and then held for years, reached you deeply. It is love unlike any other, more pure and heartfelt than you could ever imagine.

did I cry while writing this? yes.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento angst #kento nanami #gojo satoru #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #nanami kento x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #jjk fluff #hurt/comfort #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #pregnancy #nanami x reader #nanami x reader smut #18+ only

[taegularities]

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep. 

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear. 

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion. 

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work. 

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching. 

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh… 

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you. 

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too. 

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks. 

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting. 

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

[jester-lover]

if it’s not too much trouble can i please request savannaclaw, octavinelle, and diaspmnia with a starfire-like reader?

-much love,

anon

Hi anon! This was an amazing request, as I personally love dc comics, but I did take the liberty of shortening the post down to the dorm leaders, I hope this is okay!

Feat/ Leona, Azul, Malleus

CWs/ fluff, fem! Reader, I used og comic version and the teen titans cartoon version as reference

Leona

A significant other who embodies Starfire-like traits would be absolutely perfect for Leona. Most of the traits that embody Starfire—this deep loyalty, strength, and kindness—are, in his opinion, all ideal for a significant other.

Leona would probably overdo it in terms of wooing you, probably because your sheer radiance kind of scares him. (But the second you two are together, he’s going to brag about you any chance he gets.)

Leona would be wrapped around your little finger, but never admit it. Anything you want, you get.

One of the other traits you possess is a deep affection for your loved ones, something that Leona is put off by at first but learns to love over time.

Your energy clashes with his general laziness, but when it comes to Spelldrive, he would love practicing with you.

“How do you not tire yourself out, flying around everywhere..?”

Azul

Do y'all know the Jessica and Roger Rabbit trope? 

He is so surprised when an objectively attractive, strong, and cheerful goddess-like girl such as yourself is asking him out.

Azul’s ego is flying.

Canonically, Starfire is over 6 feet tall; if height is a trait you also possess, he’ll be really happy. I hc Azul as a tall woman appreciator, partially because he likes seeing you peer over other people.

(And mostly because he likes powerful women.)

Azul is also fond of your fire abilities; he thinks they complement his well. He finds the green shade of those flames really beautiful.

“Dearest, could you please reach that book at the top shelf for me?”

Malleus

You two are literally designed for one another. We know that despite his stoic personality, he holds an affectionate fascination for certain things, like gargoyles or simple technology. I think this would greatly complement a Starfire-like girl.

This similarity in personality is made even bolder by the fact that both of you use green fire, a trait that earns you his praise.

The two of you honestly just have such a deep adoration for each other; the similarities of your gentle yet stern mannerisms, along with your royal statuses, make you an ideal co-ruler as well as an ideal partner for the future King of Briar Valley.

Malleus loves the gentleness and positivity of your personality and how sweetly you act toward not only him but his dear retainers as well.

He finds the fact that the sun is the source of your power to be a gorgeous contrast to him, a leader of nocturnal fae. Your own beauty both contrasts and highlights his.

“How does your light shine so brightly?”

#reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst #female reader #fem!reader #twst malleus #twst azul #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

[bones4thecats]

Hello, love your writing♥️ can you do record of ragnarok shiva, hades,qin and rudra with Jessica Rabbit reader? (If it's too much feel free to skip it) Thank you!

A/N: The reader in this is obviously female because Jessica Rabbit is female! I hope you enjoy this piece, Anon~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 This god never thought he’d see someone like you around!

🪩 His wives weren’t exactly the flattest women in existence, but you were on a whole 'nother level!

🪩 Shiva may have some respect for you, but he also has him limitations, he’s a guy

🪩 Before your relationship, Shiva would constantly try wooing you and making you laugh

🪩 He loved seeing you smile at his or his fellow God’s antics

🪩 When he went on for his match, Shiva turned to you and his wives and gave you a thumbs up with the biggest smile you had ever seen on him

🪩 He’s a dork for you and his wives, but you get the main part of it all

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

⛈️ Your personality was what had drawn Rudra in

⛈️ You were so selfless, and while everyone that he ever met, besides Shiva and some other gods, said you were just underneath a facade like Zeus, he knew the truth

⛈️ Whenever Rudra smiled at you, you smiled back with so much love, it nearly caused him to have a heart attack!

⛈️ When Shiva went for his match, you could tell your husband was quite nervous

⛈️ This human was known to be undefeatable and quite strong, so he had a right to be nervous

⛈️ You just held his hand and reminded him of everything Shiva had gone through before this moment

⛈️ After hearing your very truthful and affirmation-filled words, Rudra sighed and hugged you from behind

“ What did I do to deserve someone like you, my dearest.. “

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💀 Hades loved how calm and composed, yet caring and soft you were

💀 You two met hundreds of years ago when you both were young and Poseidon was born

💀 With how you appeared, he assumed that you were a promiscuous woman, but, thankfully, he was completely wrong

💀 After you two married, he saw an even better side of you

💀 You were so considerate of the demons that infested Helheim that it made him laugh

💀 But the way you held yourself perfectly balanced with kindness and calmness on one side and loyalty and dangerousness on the other surprised him

💀 Watching you glare at Zeus for trying to touch your breasts makes everyone watching laugh

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

👑 This emperor had never seen someone as magnificent as you throughout his whole life

👑 He knew many would like you for your personality and the way you held yourself in dire situations, but seeing others try touching you in ways only he did, angered him a bit

👑 Thankfully, he was good at hiding his anger beneath a facade of child-like innocence

👑 Qin would look at you throughout the day, and he'd remember the exact moment he realized he fell in love with you, and didn't want you to just a a minor concubine for him

👑 Rather, a wife. One who would provide him with a heir and partner in ruling his vast empire

👑 While he does appreciate your body structure, like most of the Record of Ragnarok men, he values personality more

👑 And you were just what he wanted

#Record of Ragnarok #RoR #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie #SnV #RoR Hindu Pantheon #RoR Greek Pantheon #Record of Ragnarok Gods #RoR Gods #Record of Ragnarok Humans #RoR Humans #Record of Ragnarok x Reader #RoR x Reader #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader #SnV x Reader #RoR Hindu Pantheon x Reader #RoR Greek Pantheon x Reader #RoR Gods x Reader #Record of Ragnarok Humans x Reader #RoR Humans x Reader #Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader #S/O! Reader #F! Reader #RoR Shiva #RoR Shiva x Reader #RoR Rudra #RoR Rudra x Reader #RoR Hades #RoR Hades x Reader #RoR Qin Shi Huang #RoR Qin Shi Huang x Reader

[seelestia]

omd how did i not realise before how similar i am to aether lmfao

.💭

LMAOOOOO you, aether, and shenhe. i'm safely tucking y'all away in a comfy box for istp's <3

#since when did matchups turn into kin assignments fr (/j) #i hope you liked it btw! travelers supremacy tbh 🤭 #ask box! 📬 #visitor: dearest brainrot anon! 💭

[phoenixblaze1412]

HII I'm sick 💀💀 can I get a fluffy fic where dottore and his segments all take care of u when ur sick? like they're all just so gentle with you and sweet to reader... - 🐓 anon

Aww anon I hope you get better soon!^^

You felt groggy as you made your way to the laboratory to help Dottore and his segments work. You looked at your reflection in one of the empty beakers and noticed how sickly pale you looked. Even Omega noticed how your movements were sluggish as you sorted out the documents given to you.

The segments all heard that one, single cough that you let out and in the next second, you are immediately circled around by them.

"Are you sick?" "Did you eat something bad?" "Did someone poisoned you?" "Are you feeling cold?"

The multipe questions directed your way started to suffocate you to the point that Dottore himself had to push the segments to the side just to give you some air.

"You ignorant fools! You're going to make them faint if you crowd around them!"

Dottore placed his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. You could only weakly lean away from him due to how cold his touch is.

"Darling, you have a fever. What on Teyvat were you doing that made you get it?"

You felt yourself being carried bridal style, your blurry vision can only make out the outline to the door of yours and Dottore's shared room. You let out a small whine when Dottore tucked you in bed before heading out the room.

"I'll be back soon, pet. I'm only going to grab your medicine."

You laid down in bed, a headache forming in your head as you tried to sleep it away but can't. You didn't hear the door creak open as you felt the bed dip at the new weight that appeared.

You opened your eyes to come face to face with the child and teen segments, Kappa and Eta. You noticed they were wearing a face mask with the design being the fatui symbol. The segments could only look at you in worry, their eyes staring at your pale skin, reddened eyes, and your runny nose.

You could only give them a weak smile before patting their heads in reassurance. Kappa could only whimper and hug your torso, he didn't like seeing you so weak in bed, it made him fear that you might die and leave them.

"Now now, you two. They need to take their medicine."

Eta had to pull Kappa away from you before they head out the room, Kappa whining and reaching out towards you as he didn't want to be away from you.

"You can visit them later, Kappa. Right now they need to consume their medicine and rest."

Dottore shooed the two away, closing the door before making his way towards you. You noticed he was holding a glass of water in his hand, on the other was a... pill.

"Dearest, you have to take this if you want to feel better soon."

Dottore watched as you hid yourself under the blankets, moving away from him when he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"'m gonna choke on that.."

You could only mutter a few words before your throat started to hurt more, even swallowing your own saliva was enough to make your throat hurt.

"I assure you that there is something more than a mere, tiny pill that can make you choke."

You could only groan in annoyance as you lightly punched Dottore on the shoulder for making a sexual innuendo. Dottore only chuckled in return, he placed the glass of water on the bedside table before grabbing your wrist and pulling you up.

"Come on, now. You don't want Kappa to be more sad now, do you?"

Dottore watched as you lightly glared at him, he knew you would do anything for the youngest version of himself. He clicked his tongue in annoyance when you moved your head away when he tried to push the pill in your mouth.

"If you're going to be so stubborn then you should know that you made a wrong choice in doing so."

Without you looking, Dottore placed the pill inside his mouth before grabbing your chin and pressing his lips against yours. You tried to move away but Dottore held you by your waist, preventing you from running away. You whimpered and parted your lips when you felt him nip your lower lip, his tongue entering and exploring every crevice of your mouth.

Your eyes widened in surprise when you felt his tongue push something down your throat before pulling away, a string of saliva hanging from both of your lips. Dottore kept his grip on your chin as he grinned at your flustered expression.

"You better swallow that pill or else I'm giving you another one."

You obediently swallowed said pill before reaching the glass of water on the table and gulping down the contents. You winced when you felt the pill slide down your sore throat.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

Dottore let out a chuckle as he kissed your forehead before turning to leave the room, making you confused.

"I need to finish my work for today, the segments will watch over you while I'm gone. But do rest, pet. Doctor's orders."

For the entire day, the segments visited you in your room and taking care of you. Omega, Theta and Iota bringing you a warm meal that could increase your recovery speed, you didn't have to know that they mixed some medicine in your food. But don't worry, they took a spoonful of it and made sure you wouldn't even taste the medicine.

Beta and Gamma switching every thirty minutes or so to change the wet cloth on your forehead. Even placing a bucket beside your bed in case you felt nauseous.

Epsilon coming by every now and then to check on your temperature and report it to Dottore.

Meanwhile Eta and Kappa can be found cuddling your figure as the three of you slept the entire afternoon. Gamma may or may not have splashed some ice cold water on the two segments when he saw them trying to press their cheeks to your lips since you would always give them cheek kisses. Epsilon and Omega had to drag the three of them out before they fight and yell in front of your sleeping figure.

After a whole day's work. Dottore went to check up on you himself, he made sure to lock the door so the others won't bother him. He placed a hand on your forehead and sighed in relief when he felt your temperature coming back to normal. He hummed and went under the blankets before pulling you close to his chest, careful not to wake you up.

"Get well soon, love."

Dottore placed a small kiss on your cheek before cuddling you and joining you in dream land.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore x reader #dottore #zandik x reader #il dottore x reader #gender neutral reader #female reader

[writingstoraes]

part two of charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader pls your first one was so good!!!

red vs red 🚥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: thank u for loving the first, anon! hope u like this one 🤍 and thank u for requesting heheh, also formatting may look weird in ios devices idk this app wont let me fix the errors in bold letters 😭

summary: no peaceful race when there's banter between your boyfriend and your own brother, might as well just join the ruckus they cause!

reading the first part isn't necessary, just provides context! but if you want, read part 1 here!

ynverstappen

liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 870,445 others

ynverstappen happy race week, everybody! glad to be back in the paddock supporting my favorite driver ever ❤ goodluck, my baby love charles_leclerc! will be waiting for you after quali with lots of kisses and hugs :)

ps. spending quali in ferrari because i am on redbull duty tomorrow 🙏

charles_leclerc Always happy you're by my side, amoúr. Je táime 😘

maxverstappen Will never get used to this 🤮

ynverstappen we've literally been together for 3 years

maxverstappen And by favorite driver ever, you mean me, right?

charles_leclerc Are you the one in the picture? Then no 🙂

scuderiaferrari Red is your color, Y/N! ❤️

redbullracing Absolutely not, we do not think so!

scuderiaferrari Respectfully, no one asked you.

lestappen16 Love how even the team admins are in their own playful feud 😭

pierreluvr someone give y/n a break from dealing with charles and max lmaooowjwjsjsj

maxverstappen Why are you making it sound like supporting me at redbull is a responsibility and not something you want to do? 😔

charles_leclerc Because it's not.

ynverstappen jesus i just want one peaceful race is it so hard to ask for

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, isahernaez, and 780,223 others

ynverstappen watching today's race from the redbull garage! wishing my dearest brother the best today, please stop believing the rumors he spreads re: me hating red bull. he is overdramatic. anyway, here's a selfie of max and i at quali yesterday! 🤍

tagged: maxverstappen

charles_leclerc You're not in our garage? Okay that makes me sad then 💔

ynverstappen will still root for you, don't worry 😁

maxverstappen Not under my watch you're not

maxverstappen My own sister wearing a ferrari jacket beside her brother who races for red bull. The betrayal is just so.

charles_leclerc Deserved.

f1fann NOT CHARLES SAYING DESERVED?@?@*@*

redbullracing We love having you here, Y/N 🖤

scuderiaferrari 😒

ynverstappen

liked by pierregasly, redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, and 450,221 others

ynverstappen my boys have done it again! congratulations on the podium, men who continuously pester me at every race weekend ❤️

tagged: maxverstappen & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc My biggest fan ❤️ Je tàime, baby!

maxverstappen That's literally my sister

charles_leclerc She's literally my girlfriend

maxverstappen #1 supporter! Love you to bits, sister 😄

ferraredbull LESTAPPEN WINS ONCE AGAIN

vers166 y/n should get an award for dealing w charles and max everyday

ynverstappen amen sister 🙏

landonorris Leave them and support me at McLaren!

charles_leclerc ??

maxverstappen No.

----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: ig imagines take sooo long 😭 lmk what u guys think!

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #max verstappen #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc insta au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #formula 1 instagram imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 instagram imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 fluff

[cherubfae]

you get hit on || Alastor x reader

tags: AFAB!reader, gn pronouns, creepy demon, protective Alastor, minor gore

a/n: I'm not sure if any of my other writer friends are having issues with their posts lately? The things I write aren't saving properly (despite getting the notif that it saved) and so when things get posted, all of the writing I did isn't there ;-; I accidentally posted this too soon, so the original request by Anon has been deleted because all of my writing wasn't there.. second time's a charm.

"Hey sweetheart! Bet I can show ya a good time! Leave that freak and come home with me, yeah?" A weird boar-faced sinner demon hollers at you with an obscene gesture of grabbing at himself as you walk past arm-in-arm with Alastor.

A single twitch of Alastor's eyes is the only tell before the demon explodes into pieces. Reduced to a mess of guts and gore. The denizens of the Cannibal Colony descend on the beast in a fury of fangs and claws.

He is annoyed beyond belief that someone could be brazen enough and speak to you so openly and lewdly. It makes his stomach twist in disgust, nose crinkling like he's got a bad taste in his mouth.

Alastor isn't certain if he considered the demon to be brave or stupid, to flirt so unabashedly with his partner despite their clear discomfort and insult him in the same sentence.

He isn't clueless, he sees how many people; hellborn and sinners alike, seem to flock to you, hoping to catch your eye. To offer you something better than the Radio Demon. But what could they offer you that he could not? The two of you have been together since you've roamed Earth. Centuries have passed. Bonds like that do not simply break because someone thinks they can fuck you better than he can.

He takes some time to cool down every time it happens. Anyone who isn't you should not approach him lest they wish to face his wrath.

You're able to calm him so easily, approaching him with that sweet, gentle aura. His shadows bow at your feet, tickling at your skin.

A simply remarkable creature you are, to be able to quell his own personal demons with a soft touch to his arm.

"You are everything to me, dearest, make no mistake. It is not you that I worry about, I know you are not interested in these livestock." Alastor snaps his jaws, his words biting cold. "If they think they can tear apart the planes of existence for you, to wage war on all grounds: Hellish and otherwise. I'd like to see them try."

#hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader

[autumn-hiraeth]

Hello! I have a request dearest, if you would like to write it ofc ^w^ How about, Hobie meets a spider-woman that has an issue with her venom (the monster obvi) and left her a scar that starts on her eye all the way to her back and she's ashamed of it, but he gets to know her and reassure her, saying she's beautiful etc etc. Idk. :3

this is so sweet anon! Hope you like it <33 thank u for your req btw

hobie brown x reader

friends to lovers. Headcanons.

a/n: reader has the Cindy's suit aka Silk. Team silk

Hobie has met many spider-women, but never anyone like you. You were so stealthy that it seemed like you wanted to make yourself invisible and he wasn't so wrong about it. Hobie looks for any opportunity to introduce himself to you 'cause he has seen you fight; you're skilled and badass and he thinks your suit is too cool.

"I'm hobie brown" he says as he finds you in a corner, your brow furrowing slightly through your mask. You've worked with Hobie long enough to know that he's… amazing and extremely handsome. "i'm Y/n L/n" and that's just the beginning.

Hobie is attached to your hip after that and he's nice, for god's sake, Hobie Brown is the nicest man you've ever met in the entire multiverse. Your cheeks flush when he places his arm on your shoulder and his head leans against yours or when he lends you his jacket. However, he has never seen you without your mask and you pray that he never do 'cause your scar makes you too ashamed. Sometimes hobie jokes.

"c'mon hun! Let me see your dollface" "i promise not to get jealous luv"

you never let him see you y without your suit, but the life of a spider woman is never in your favor, is it? So one unfortunate day Hobie sees you without your suit.

"luv." "don't see me Hobie, just leave" you hide your face in your hands waiting for the earth to swallow you or for the universe to collapse. However, Hobie isn't horrified or scared and he definitely isn't leaving you alone. He gently places his hands on yours "c'mon luv, lemme see your pretty face" "don't lie to me Hobie, I'm not pretty with a scar like this" Hobie frowns at your harsh words and his heart is breaking 'cause the girl he loves doesn't love herself. "I never lie Y/n.. much less to you.. Now lemme see ya" shakily you remove your hands and let him see you for the first time, yes, you have a scar on your left eye and it goes down your shoulder and probably a little more. Hobie places a hand on your cheek and gently rubs where the scar is. "Does it hurt luv?" You shake your head and he smiles in relief.

"You're just as beautiful as I imagined Y/n" your heart melted because you know Hobie Brown doesn't tell lies. "think you're the prettiest girl in the entire multiverse" Hobie whispers before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown fluff #hobie x reader #hobie x fem!reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #spider punk x you #spider punk x y/n #spider punk x reader #hobie brown spider punk #spider punk #spider punk headcanons

[n0tamused]

Can i request a drabble with Newbie Assistant reader! x jing yuan? I've been thinking (daydreaming) abt this for a while with my delulu brain. From what qingzu says, he prefers everyone adress him as jing yuan. And not full title.

OR

Where reader is his wife and he can't go 1 minute without hugging her and worst part, she works at the seat of divine foresight and everyone at the seat has to witness his love sick behavior. I imagine especially fu xuan will be pissed like 'get to work, general!'

Honestly just a food for thought u don't have to take this srsly. Luv u, byeee <33

A/n: Anon you got my gears turning with this food and you have successfully dragged me out of the hole of writer's block. Thank you for that and I really hope you enjoy this little drabble I made, specifically for the second prompt! Man I love this man I wanna eat him. Just imagine him with a wife that's also on the strict side and just knows to get him back to his work but he just wants another kiss before he lets her leave his embrace-

Content: female reader, fluff, drabble

Big arms find their place around her waist and before she can pluck them off, Jing Yuan has slotted himself against her back. His chin rested on top of her shoulder and his golden eyes sluggish dragged their gaze over the documents his lovely wife was working on sorting out. A signature smile remained plastered over his lips even when he felt the scolding words bubble in your throat.

He never shared her shyness, as he called it, in the workplace. It was nothing that could damage either of their reputation, a little bit of hugging and a few cheek kisses here and there - if anything, he held firm belief that more warm displays of affection could even make the workplace be less stagnant. Why does everyone have to be so stiff? Jing Yuan knew to not cross any boundaries that could make his affections be perceived as something odd or even bad. But in an empty office, like the state it was in now, where no one paid them any mind, he really couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity. 

“Have you finished your paperwork so soon today, General?” she’d bite at him with her words, fully familiar with his tendencies to neglect the piling papers on his desk. 

“Certainly. For today I have done the amount my hands could endure” Jing Yuan responded with a peck to the side of her exposed neck, smiling into her skin when he smelled some of his soap there. She smelled so warm, so relaxing, and it made him squeeze her in his arms just a little more. He heard his love exhale at his squeeze, and despite the facade she tried to keep on, he could see traces of a smile on her pretty lips when he lifted his gaze. “And what did we say about name calling? I’m Jing Yuan to you, your white lion, your husband, am I not?” He playfully nips at her ear, his warm breath fanning across her skin and making her hairs stand on their ends. “Or have you decided to take back your vows all of a sudden?” That gains a reaction out of you, a huff of a chuckle flying past your mouth at the absurd way he delivered that question. He sounded so serious about it, offended even, making her shift in his embrace.

“Jing Yuan-”

“You just keep gaining more beauty, my love, do you know?”

A long sigh and her shaking her head tell him enough, and he smiles when he sees her smile. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this. Unhand me now, my dearest husband-” she says it as if she hates it, swatting at his hands until their grip falters. She could swat at them all she wanted but she knew that getting him off of her in this instant would be like trying to separate a nail from the flesh. “You may have done what you think is all for today, but I have more work to get to.. Tell you what..” her eyes finally grace him with the attention of her gaze and he feels like kissing her again, but he refrains as to hear her out. “If you tend to all those papers I’ll pamper your scoundrel self once we are back home, hm? If you don’t, well you can expect the cold shoulder and the couch as your bedroom until it gets done” 

“You are too cruel to me, my dear, you hurt me so..” he feigns offense, all while he leans in and litters her cheek with feather kisses before he finally gets to her lips. One of his hands had snuck its way up and held her other cheek in its palm, tilting her head towards him as he pressed his lips against hers. 

"You know I must resort to rougher measures when you're slacking off-" "Shhh.." he hushes her and places another kiss to her mouth.

Safe to say, that paperwork did get done later. And Jing Yuan got to enjoy a really touchy afternoon with you in his arms. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

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