#this song gripped my heart from the moment it was uploaded

[altamugs]

Song: その電車、中津止まりにつき / That train, stops at Nakamatsu Music / Lyrics: メガナガメ / Mega Nagame Vocals: Kagamine Ren

夕暮れ5時の心斎橋 あてもなく歩くアーケード 建物の切れ間 射し込む斜陽 途切れがちな僕らの会話のよう

5 P.M at dusk in Shisaibashi, Walking aimlessly under the arcade Sunlight filtering through the gaps between buildings, like our interrupted conversation

週末ずっと一緒だったから 口数は減ってきたけれど 君の手から伝わる熱とか 静かな時間さえも心地よくて

We've spent the whole weekend together, so there's not much else to say, but the warmth from your hand or these quiet moments are comforting to me

帰りの時を引き伸ばすように ゆっくりした足取りで歩く

We walk slowly to prolong the journey home

行きたくないな 君と僕を 隔てる500キロが 心まで遠ざけるのが怖くて 君の手を離さずに 連れて帰りたいけど 横たわる現実を動かすには 僕は未熟すぎて

I don't want to go the whole 500 kilometers separating you and me I'm scared that even our hearts would grow apart I want to take you home with your hand in mine but I'm still too inexperienced to move the reality lying ahead

二人を遠ざける合図のように 接近メロディが鳴り響く 大阪の動脈に飛び乗り 細胞になって流れてゆく

Like a signal pulling us apart, the melody that signals the train's approaching resounds Jumping onto the arteries of Osaka, becoming cells in it and flowing away

梅田でやたらと人が降りて ガラガラになった席に二人 腰掛けたすぐ後に流れる 「この電車は次の中津までです」

A lot of people get off at Umeda Right after we take the two seats that have become empty, comes the announcement, "The next stop of this train is Nakamatsu."

「新大阪まで行かへんなあ」 悪戯な顔で君が笑う

"It won't go to Shin-Osaka huh?" You laugh mischievously

あと少しで辿り着けない もどかしい距離は 迷い躊躇う 僕の気持ちみたいで かりそめの終点を 取り払った先にある景色に まだ自信が持てないんだ

Just a bit more but we can't cross it, this vexing distance, stuck in hesitation, just like my feelings I still lack the confidence in the scenery that lies beyond the point where the temporary terminal has been cleared away

円いベンチ腰掛ければ 僕らだけのエアポケット 電車の音も雑踏も 消えていくんだ いつの間に見違えた この駅のように 変わって行かなきゃなあ 僕も

Once we sit on a round bench, we're inside our own air pocket The sounds of the trains and the crowd all disappear Much like this train station, which, before I knew it, I hardly recognized, I'd have to change, too.

「帰りたないな」 僕のワガママ 音でかき消すように サヨナラの電車はすぐやってきて 「せやけど…」って 寂しそうな 作り笑いキミにさせたくないんだ させたくないんだ もう

"I don't want to go home" The goodbye train comes as if to drown my selfish wish in sounds "I know, but…" I don't want you to make that sad forced smile I don't want you to, anymore.

地下から出た電車みたいに 気持ちは向こう岸に届くかな 淀川に夕陽が滲む

Like the train emerging from the underground, will my feelings reach the other shore? The Yodogawa river is blurred by the evening sun.

「なあ 死ぬまで横におってくれへん？」 陳腐な言葉しか出なかった 悪戯な笑顔で応えた君を 守るよ 本当の終点まで

"Hey, will you stay by my side until I die?" Only cliched words come out of my mouth With a mischievous smile, you replied, "I will protect you, until the true end."

#lyrics #vocaloid #translation #mega nagame #kagamine ren #currently digging through my hard drive #this song gripped my heart from the moment it was uploaded

[bethelighthalazia]

I was scared!

Summary:  You and Jongho were a couple for almost a year, you visited a concert of his, standing in barricade spots. Noone could have imagined that you suddenly can't be found in the crowd anymore, which had suddenly started to push each other slightly. Completely written from Jongho´s point of view.

Pairing: bf!Jongho x fem!reader, established relationship

Word Count:  1233

Warnings: angsty (?), mentioned panic attack/anxiety, mentioned crowded place, description of fear (?), fluff in the end

[note: it´s not very long, but i had fun writing it from Jongho´s point of view. RE-UPLOAD from my old blog @/justsomedreaming]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Y/n. She has been the light of my life for almost a year now. The both of us met during a fansign, I just fell in love with her that day and soon we had started dating. Even though it was hard at first with keeping it hidden, I soon decided to make it public. I didn't want to hide my feelings for her, nor how happy y/n made me. Hongjoong and the other hyungs were very supportive and welcomed y/n into our lives. She finished her fashion master's degree only shortly before we started dating and soon, Hongjoong hyung helped her with getting a job in our stylist team, mainly responsible for the outfits. That way, she was able to stay close with us. 

This time though, she wanted to see our performance from ATINY's view once again, so I made sure to get her a VIP ticket and backstage pass. We once customized a Lightiny for each other, which she took with her when we arrived at the location and she had to find her spot in the audience area. 

The moment we stepped out on stage, I found her gaze, never truly letting her out of sight, not only because I couldn't resist looking at my beautiful girlfriend, but also to check on her. I knew she struggles with crowded places and it was very clear to us that the host didn't meet all safety measures fully. The audience was squished into the rather tight space, I could see y/n slowly struggling and losing her calm expression. Even her eyes told me that she was terrified of all the people pushing and squeezing against each other. For a moment, only a few seconds, I looked at our captain to see his reaction to the situation, he had stopped the last performance to assess the problem. When I looked back to where y/n was standing, my heart stopped.

She wasn't there anymore. All of a sudden, I couldn't find y/n’s beautiful face anywhere in the crowd. Hongjoong hyung actually started to tell people to stop pushing into the areas, Mingi hyung told the security to open side gates, so the fans could get out safely since we finished the last song. The host really didn't plan it well and the hyungs were furious. But I couldn't focus on anything, a stinging pain in my chest when worry took over. What if y/n got hurt or was having a panic attack and I wasn't there for her? 

I didn't even realize that my body had moved until a hand around my upper arm stopped me from climbing down the stage to find her.

“Jongho, you can't.” It was Seonghwa hyung’s voice, and even though I knew he was right, I pulled against his grip. Only when another set of hands helped him to hold me back, they managed to navigate me from the stage and out of the building through one of the backstage doors. When the cold air hit me, I just dropped onto the stairs, a dry sob escaping me. “Sh- she was in the crowd there…y/n was- I didn't see her anymore-” 

My voice cracked, an icy feeling wrapped around my heart, my chest felt as if something coiled around it and squeezed all air out of my lungs. My hand was still clinging to my microphone, the little lucky charm that y/n made for me dangling from its end. I know that my eyes were aimlessly glancing around, it all felt like a blur of my vision, not able to make out a real thought aside of my worry for y/n. Well, that is until I noticed the Lightiny in the corner of my eyes. Y/n’s Lightiny. Holding my breath, I turned my head just a bit, another dry sob squeezed out between my lips when I saw that it was San holding it. He must have been standing with me all the time, because I could hear him thank someone for bringing it out to us and asking them to keep searching.

When he heard the sound I made, he sat down beside me, resting his empty hand on my shoulder, I could feel it squeeze comfortably. “Y/m, is she-” I whispered, my voice cracking once again, tears starting to sting in my eyes when San just shook his head. “Not yet. They found it with her stuff near one of the backstage doors. We hope that she slipped out and just hid backstage to calm down.” 

His words just increased my worries. What if she got pushed and got hurt physically? Did she maybe stumble and hit her head or worse? A quiet cracking sound got to my ears, but I didn't pay attention, only thinking about her. That is, until San's hand pried my hand open to release my microphone from it, I squeezed it hard enough to break it. I didn't even notice that a little piece of it had cut into my palm.

“Found y/n.” 

It was only quietly that I heard these words, my vision blurry as I stood up, almost knocking over San who was supporting me, because I must have swayed a little, when standing up, I got slightly dizzy from the sudden change of position. “T- they found her?” My voice still hoarse, I moved automatically, blinking quickly when I walked inside into the darker surroundings and out of the sunlight. San walked directly behind me, I could feel his hand on my back from time to time but when I saw her, I stopped. Seonghwa had his outfit jacket around her shoulders, speaking calmly at her. “Y/n…” 

She must've heard my voice, because y/n looked up and her eyes widened as she suddenly ran towards me. Her arms wrapping around my middle, I stumbled slightly backwards, falling onto my butt, pulling her with me. My own arms wrapped around her, I made sure to keep her on top of me, so she wouldn't possibly get hurt. I couldn't stop myself from hiding my face against her neck, just holding her close for now.

“Y/n…I- I was so scared-”

My voice cracked once again and I could feel her body being shaken by sobs, my hyungs just staring at me for what I had said. They never really witnessed me being scared, so this was a first for them. Behind us, I could hear Seonghwa telling San in a whispering voice, that they had found y/n in our backstage room where we had prepared, hiding under one of my coats that I wore on our way here. This actually let me chuckle a bit in between my own quiet sobs, of course she hid in the most obvious spot and yet no one found her for a while.

This day truly showed me what fear feels like, especially the fear of possibly losing the person who makes me whole. I had been so scared she could have gotten hurt or anything, that everything only felt like a blur for me. When I looked at her, I couldn't help but take her face in both my hands to kiss her, the first time I did so in front of anyone, but I didn't care. I was just so relieved that she was alright. 

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #kat writes #kat writes <3 #ateez scenarios

[sehunniepotwrites]

my christmas wish come true

SYNOPSIS. Mark Lee has been a staple in your life for the past six years and you haven’t even met him in person yet. You say yet because you’re steps away from the arrival gate of the airport and he’s there waiting for you on the other side. Nerves out of control, you wonder if coming to him for the holidays is a mistake but it’s way too late to turn back now. The only thing you can do is move forward and hope for the best. 

PAIRING. penpal!Mark Lee x fem!reader GENRE. Christmas!AU, Holiday!AU, Penpal!AU, College!AU, Friends-to-Lovers!AU, Fluff WORD COUNT. 1.4k+ WARNINGS. mark calls her “puppy” (?), tooth-rotting fluff, mark is so cute here, profanity

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work.

Looking around the crowded area, you double check that you have everything with you. Hands patting your shoulders, you feel the heavy weight of your travel backpack. Your fingers reach down to grip onto the handlebars of your carry-on and matching check-in luggage. Everything is within your grasp, so why are you so unbelievably nervous? Maybe it’s because once you pass the arrival gate, the moment you’ve been waiting for will finally arrive.

You’re stalling. 

You’re definitely stalling but of course you have to buy yourself some more time to kick all the nerves away. 

You’re not nervous because you’re traveling by yourself. You’re not nervous about visiting a new place. You’re nervous because this trip was six years in the making—four years of exchanging letters throughout your high school career and two college years continuing on the tradition while also adding on phone and FaceTime calls into the mix. 

You’re nervous because you’re meeting your penpal—your best friend—in person for the first time. You really shouldn’t be because it’s Mark Lee you’re talking about. He knows the ins and outs of you. Despite never meeting you in real life, he knows how you drink your coffee in the morning, all the movies and shows you watch when you’re having a rough day, and the things you need to hear when you’re feeling down. Mark knows that your favorite color switches depending on your mood, how you relieve your stress by screaming into a karaoke microphone for hours, and that you like to use an old hoodie of his (one that he sent to you via care package) when you’re looking for a comfortable fit. The English literature major probably knows you more than you know yourself but you can’t help but feel this way. 

You can’t help but let the butterflies in your stomach fester and float and fly while your heart does backflips inside your chest. You can’t help but heat up at the thought of finally being able to hug him after years of thinking about what it would feel like to be in his arms. Lastly, you can’t help but like Mark Lee when he has been nothing but sweet to you. So sweet that he invited you to spend time with his family for the holidays when your parents decided to go on vacation without you. 

In fact, the feelings you carry for Mark surpassed the word like. You think they’re closer to the word love instead. And sure, some may call you crazy for falling for a person you’ve never met but they never saw the letters you exchanged, how deeply you dove into different topics, or how much Mark cared for you. They had no say in your relationship because they didn’t know him or the playlists he created just for you. They didn’t know about the countless songs he uploaded on SoundCloud that were all written about you. They knew nothing. But you and him, you knew everything.

Your phone begins to vibrate erratically in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see that it’s just Mark, your sweet, handsome boy, endearingly spamming your message thread with text after text. You can practically hear his excitement through the capitalized words and extensive use of punctuation and emojis. 

Baby Cheetah: [1 attachment] Baby Cheetah: waiting right here besides this huge ass Christmas tree!! It’s so tall, dude, like wtf?? It even makes Johnny look small! Baby Cheetah: If you can’t see me through the crowd, that’s okay!! That’s why I brought Johnny with me!! Baby Cheetah: PUPPYYYYYYYYY Baby Cheetah: PUP PUP Baby Cheetah: Did you get your bags yet?? AH I’M SO EXCITED Baby Cheetah: Johnny keeps telling me to calm down but I can’t because you’re HERE! In Toronto with me! How fucking crazy is that?? Baby Cheetah: Oh my gOD I’M GOING TO GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU BETTER GET HERE FAST! Baby Cheetah: People are coming out of the gate, where are youuuuuu? Don’t chicken out on me!!!! 

You laugh, quickly typing a reply that you’re about to walk through the gate. The text you sent raises and you see the three little dots at the bottom of your screen appear, disappear, and reappear again. Waiting for his answer only prolongs your time apart so you swiftly lock your phone, inhale deeply, and take your first step through past the point of no return, or as the airport calls it, the arrival gate. Five steps later and you’re descending on the world’s longest escalator, standing on your tippy toes while scanning the waiting crowd below. Like Mark said, there is a large sea of people, which is expected for the holiday season, so you narrow your search by looking around the large Christmas tree you saw in Mark’s photo.

It doesn’t take you long to find Mark, or rather, Mark’s friend, Johnny. The man stands tall right next to the tree with a wide, teasing grin. His large arm is wrapped around a shorter boy’s shoulder. Mark doesn’t spot you right away, too busy bouncing on his heels while keeping his eyes glued to the escalator, but Johnny does. Despite never meeting you in person either, he’s gotten to know you as well through your FaceTime calls with Mark. Johnny’s smile widens as you wave at him, which is all the confirmation he needs. The guy nudges Mark’s side and points straight towards you. 

You catch Mark’s face beaming, his thin lips forming into the world’s biggest smile with his cheeks squishing against his sparkling eyes, as he makes his way through the tough crowd to meet you in the middle. The look on his face is practically fluorescent, the way it shines brighter than his Smurf blue hair that you can’t help but adore.

The second you’re getting off the ramp, you rush towards him, your bags tangling behind you in a weird sort of mess you don’t pay any attention to. He does the same, his sneakers squeaking against the floor tiles until he’s right in front of you. The anticipation leading up to this moment is so much that you disregard the luggage you packed and jump straight into Mark’s arms. He catches you with a little groan that turns into a jingle of laughter that is music to your ears. 

You snuggle into his neck and you can feel the warmth radiating through his clothes from his body and he’s here. Mark’s here with you. You’re not looking at him through a screen or a printed photo or talking to him through written stationery that gets beaten up along the way. He’s right here with you, touching you, hugging you. Mark’s arms are around your body and your legs are warped around his legs. The breath from his low chuckles are hitting your neck and his cheek is pressed into your shoulder. You feel him nuzzling into the fluffy sherpa material of your jacket and hear his satisfied sigh as his hold tightens. 

“Hi there, Cheetah Lee,” you say fondly as you push yourself back to really take him in. 

The giggle that you’ve only heard over the phone blesses you as his cheeks are tickled with red. “Hey there, Puppy,” Mark replies before pulling you back in for another long hug. 

“This is so weird,” you whisper while sinking into his warmth once again. 

“I know, man, like I can’t believe it. You’re here—”

“I’m here in Toronto!”

“—with me.” Mark reaches out to touch your hair and it slips through his fingers. The unique scent of your shampoo fills his being and it causes him to draw you even closer in his arms. His eyes search yours and the white fluorescent airport lights seem to cast a halo around his pretty face.  “My god, you’re real. Like, you actually exist.”

“And if I didn’t, who could have possibly written you those letters, hmm?” you can’t help but tease back. Does he feel you shaking in his hold? You’re trying to play it off but you’re so happy, your knees could give out any second now. 

“I don’t know but I’m just...” he seems so into this moment and it causes you to fall into it too. You ignore the phone camera aimed your way—you can always greet his best friend Johnny later—because all you could think about, all you can focus on, is the sweet boy in front of you. “I’m just so glad you came. My Christmas wish came true.”

You bump your forehead into his and the hand resting against your back finds its way up to keep your head in place. The courage you have been building up takes advantage of this precious moment and urges you to press a lingering kiss on his soft cheek. Your lips brush against his skin as you whisper, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

AUTHOR’S NOTE. This had been sitting in my drafts for a while so I made a few little changes to fit the Christmas season and tadah! Here we are. I believe this was based on a Tiktok I saw awhile back (I don’t have it saved) and I thought it was so cute, I had to write something on it. But yes, here’s my little contribution for the holidays! I hope everyone has a safe celebration, no matter what or how you are celebrating this special time! 

taglist. (tagging my general + people i think would enjoy this <3) @keemburley @johtenrecs @bat-shark-repellant @kaepop-trash @bebsky @donutswithjaminthemiddle @suhnnyskhies @baekhyuns-lipchain @emmybyeakitty @moonctzeny @sokkigarden @inlovergirlsworld @iwishiwasthemoontonight @stvrrynight @loeycity @itsapapisongo @tyong-blr @jenosuh​

networks. @czennienet @neowritingsnet @ankathi-a 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2022 — all rights reserved. reposting, editing/modifying, translating of any piece of work (fic, original writing) posted on this blog is not allowed. 

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #ankathia #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #mark scenarios #mark imagines #mark x reader

[drawonescenet]

Hi! long time with no uploads from me, so here you go!!

3 sketches and 1 complete illustration! Hinata during the "Poor Unfortunate Souls " scene. In my AU Fanfic, both Hinata and Sakura give up their voices and become human, but it is also at this moment that they get separeted in the story, so the scene is told from Hinata's perspective. I will add a little fragment from the story, I hope you like it.

Than you all for the support, likes, rebblogs and comments.

I would also appreciate if you could visit my Deviantart account :

Now, for the story, enjoy.

" There has been a beautiful duet echoing at the witch's lair just a moment ago.

Hinata, princess of the underwater kingdom of The Hyuga, had reluctantly signied her name to a magical contract along her best friend Sakura, her lady in wating, to give up their voices in exchange of becoming humans for 3 months. Sakura's desperation to be with a human prince she had fallen in love for and her own unwillingness to marry Prince Toneri, of the Otsusuki Kingdom, had led them to the sea witch lair. Orochimru, powerful in magic as rumor had him, made a special incantantion:

Beluga, sevruga, come winds of

the Caspian Sea

Larynxes, glossitis

Et max laryngitis

Le loro voce to me!

Now, sing! Compelled by the magic at play Hinata started singing against her will, as if a force was pulling at her very vocal chords, she and Sakura sang loud and beautifly. unabel to move or stop. Two pairs of hands appeared from the cauldron menacingly moving towards each of the singing mermaids. Fear gripped Hinata's heart as she tried to resist the magic suronding her. She couldn't see Sakura, but she could hear her her loud and clear as she also sang. Then one of the hands brushed away her hair, Hinata flinched at the ghostly apparition's touch, but her voice did not waver. Sh eopened her eyes, facing one of the two hands that had stop right in front of her. Keep Singing!! The witch shouted. Hinata knew that her voice was now under the complete control of the witch, she no longer had any way of resistng her, being able only to watch as the gosthy hand went for her moth, her eyes closing as she felt it dive dow her throat. It lasted but a moment, hearing hers and Sakura's singing, when she felt the hand leaving her. Hinata had gently closed her lips the moment she felt the evil apparition exit her mouth. Opening her eyes she saw it. Her voice in the form of a shinning golden pearl, singing her song and trapped in the hands grasp. Clutching her neck in absolute shock, Hinata could only watch as her voice  was captured in a seashell with another one for Sakura's voice. At that moment, it began. The cauldron erupted in light and smoke creating two bubbles that encapsulated the mermaids. Hinata squirmed inside her magical cocoon, her face twisted in pain as she silently scremed. Her tail split in two forming two beautiful legs and in a last pulse of light, her bubble burst, realising her of the pain, but leaving her helplessly trying to swim as she was now unabel to breath underwater. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Sakura struggling to swim to the surface. Meanwhile the witch was laughing out of control, an insane look in his eyes. He made a gesture with his hands and Hinata felt and impuls pulling her upwards, almost unconsious she reaches the surfece and emerges, fliping her hair as she brakes waters, breathing in the so needed air. Fortunately the witch had sent her near the shoreline, so she swam as best as she could reaching for the lands. her last thoughts where of Sakura and what had been of her, she wasen't here in the shore, so maybe the witch had capture her? Hinata could only wonder as the last of her consiousness slipped and everything went dark, the moon and the stars bathing her new human form with their light."

#hinata hyuuga #hinata uzumaki #naruhina #poor unfortunate souls #thelittlemermaid #fanart #drawonescenet

[theonethatyaks93]

Character Analysis: Pinky POV, Broadway Malady, and Pinky's Dream House (Day 5 of Pinky Week)

Hello and welcome to another installment of Pinky Week! Thanks to all those who've been viewing these posts; I apologize for the messy uploading schedule. But this is finally going to be the week where this series comes to a close. My next post is going to be another character analysis and there's going to be a special surprise to wrap it all up on Thursday (hopefully!). Can you guess what it is? That's enough of that, let's begin!

4/3/23- An analysis of Pinky in "Broadway Malady", "Pinky POV", and "Pinky's Dream House": Yes, we're doing three episodes today. Rather than it be an in-depth analysis on one episode, taking a lot of time, I'm doing a shorter analysis on three episodes, two of which I've already talked about in Pinky Week Day Three. These three episodes are vital to introducing new aspects of Pinky's character and showing how he operates. While these are still not massively influential, they have importance and were considered development episodes before the reboot came around. I also haven't really talked much about the OG Pinky and The Brain spin-off so that fills that gap.

Devoted to Brain (Broadway Malady):

This episode was a character tour-de-force when it came to showcasing emotions. While Brain was honestly hilarious when he became so interested in theater, Pinky truly shows his affection for Brain in so many ways. Though Pinky becomes a successful actor on Broadway, he still goes and checks on Brain when he has time. He even becomes distressed when he realizes Brain has no audience watching his show, begging for Brain to join him. When Brain rejects his pleas, saying he wants to put his creative vision over world domination, Pinky leaves dejected. Pinky then dedicates his big performance to Brain, singing a song about how much he misses his best friend. The song is gripping, emotional, humorous, and well-sung. While the lyrics aren't the best, they aren't supposed to be. It's a parody of "Memory" from Cats, and most parodies from the show don't have complex lyrical changes. It's still incredible to see Pinky singing such a powerful song about Brain. Brain even shows up and watches his performance, crying at one point. This still remains the only time in the franchise where Pinky sings an emotional song entirely dedicated to his partner (though the song "Not Home" from season three of the reboot episode "Royal Flush" had one moment at the end that was kind of close to this). The song was also nominated for an Emmy award for Best Original Song; however it didn't win. This still remains Pinky's most powerful performance, him hitting astoundingly high notes and singing his little heart out. This truly shows his dedication to Brain and how much Brain means to Pinky. He then decides to get every important critic in the world to watch Brain's musical, much to Brain's surprise. Pinky even tricks his friend into coming and tells Brain to make him proud. Though the show is still a flop, Pinky and Brain have rekindled their relationship. Pinky literally puts his own successful career and show on hold for Brain. This episode shows the lengths Pinky would go to in order to make Brain happy and to keep their friendship stable, things that would be taken with the duo throughout the series going forward.

Seeing the World Pinky's Way (Pinky POV):

This is perhaps one of the most unique and weird episodes from Pinky and The Brain. This segment is a literal character exploration episode as we (as an audience) look at the world from Pinky's point-of-view. Through creative animation, little details, and excellent editing, many of Pinky's inner thoughts and perspectives are given. We learn that Pinky's verbal tics are visualized in front of him, and that the reason why he often fails to understand Brain's plans is that he often zones out and thinks about other things. It's astounding to know that the animators took extra care when crafting this segment; for example: when Pinky walks in front of a reflective trashcan, you see his reflection in the trashcan. While this doesn't give us an idea of Pinky's feeling about Brain (aside from the...uhm...interesting idea of him thinking about Brain as a hippo wearing a thong. Yeah, I don't know if that's weird or if that's another red flag to Pinky's thoughts about his friend) it gives us a few answers to questions we may have been asking. This episode is a fun time, despite not being super deep or focused on character development.

A Secret Goal (Pinky's Dream House):

While this show is technically non-canon (though I like to pretend it's just a show the mice filmed on a set because of me wanting this episode to be canon so bad), it still packs a pretty big punch with "Pinky's Dream House." While the show received mixed reviews, this segment cannot be denied the fact that it introduced an important piece of character development to the mix. Pinky's fantasy about being a housewife to Brain is not only sweet, but an interesting insight into his way of thinking. Not only does he desire to live the perfect sitcom life, but he wants to do this with Brain. The song he sings is very nice to listen to and it's so precious. It's a parody of the song "Somewhere That's Green" from the musical Little Shop of Horrors with nearly all the romantic undertones remaining intact. When Pinky gets to live out his dream, he's so happy that he gets to share a house with Brain. While Brain at first doesn't adhere to this new way of living, he soon finds himself comfortable with all the amenities that home life has. Pinky is doing everything to support his partner, and while he eventually grows some concern over Brain's lack of wanting to take over the world, he still does his best to meet Brain and his needs. Though things eventually go awry, it's still cute to know that these two could function properly in a normal sitcom-like situation. Their rapport and Pinky's dedication to Brain is adorable, and it's a surprise to know that Pinky really wanted this. Sure he loves helping Brain with his plans, but Pinky really wants to settle down and enjoy a calmer life. It's almost sad that we didn't get anything too similar to this in the original spin-off since it could've worked very well in that show as a full-length 22 minute episode. And Elmyra, despite not being that annoying in this segment (thank god), she still doesn't fit in and feels like an outlier here. Her appearances are jarring because this is focused mostly, if not entirely on the mice and their relationship. It's not that big of a deal, though. "Pinky's Dream House" still gets a lot of credit for being the segment that convinced a lot of people that Pinky had some underlying desires and feelings for Brain.

Conclusion: In the original series, Pinky wasn't given as much focus in the character development department when compared to Brain. He was still given his moments, but they weren't nearly as expansive or as emotionally impactful as his curmudgeonly companion. These three episodes allow viewers to get an idea of how Pinky operates, giving us ideas about his relationship with Brain and his inner thoughts. It could've been more expanded on, sure, but these moments are still good enough to satisfy those who want to see the world Pinky's way.

And that's it! I hope you enjoyed this installment of Pinky Week. The next two days should be the last of this and then Brain Week is on it's way. Since I'm on break next week, I can upload posts nearly every day! Yay!!! Have a great day/night/afternoon and always remember to just say narf!!

#pinky and the brain #patb #brinky #Pinky Week!!! #yes it's another essay #I'm still talking about Pinky #long-ish analysis

[elnotwoods]

Get To Know Your BL Mutuals

I got tagged by the lovely @dribs-and-drabbles and @baby-droll

Simple, answer the questions. @ some people. Include the tag 'g2ky BL mutuals 2022' on your post so we can find everyone's answers!

what have been BLs that took you by surprise this year?

okay, this one is easy - Semantic error! since i don’t really keep up with all bls and don’t really know when they’re airing and awaits us in the upcoming year (yes, i am that basic hoe who finds out about most bls thanks to my lovely mutuals and people i follow - they fill my dash with delicious images and gifsets and i just get swept up and start watching too!) i was not expecting much from this since korean bls sometimes don’t capture me and their cinematography impresses me much more than the story but this time around i absolutely fell in love with Sangwoo and Jaeyoung (thanks to my lovely friends @bengiyo and @kyr-kun-chan - i wouldn’t watched it if it weren’t for them!)

plus Not me - because that show grew on me, managed to get me out of my deep Bad Buddy hyperfixation and i am not complaining! parts of the soundtrack even made it to my top 5 songs of the year, one being my most listened to... you can imagine what a grip that show had/has on me! the story was absolutely gripping and i applaud them for having at least 3 characters panting after a character played by Gun (yes, even Gram before his evil twin Kilo took his place and yes Todd too... no i won’t be explaining further!)

what have been BLs that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

To my star 2 - before you come for me with pitchforks, let me explain! i love Jiwoo and Seojoon so much but i was so hyped for the show to air that when it did and we got all that angst i was just - i didn’t expect that and i should have, especially after the last promos were uploaded right before the show aired. so it’s not even disappointment but more me expecting something different but then i got on board, because of course i did, i love them so much...

what has been your favorite BL this year?

a lot of you would expect me to say Bad Buddy - but i found a loophole and will say that the majority of bad buddy aired in 2021 so i count it as a 2021 show!!

i was not expecting KinnPorsche to have such a grip on me -  i think i was the only person in the bl fandom who didn’t even know about KinnPorsche right until like a week before it aired (again, i am bad at keeping up with new releases and all that, don’t judge me)!

i also know a lot of people were hyped for it but lost interest quickly, some even came to hate it and i totally understand where they’re coming from, there are things in KinnPorsche that could have been fine-tuned, sure, but all in all this show gave me something i wasn’t used to in bls - 2 broad as fuck dudes not only being into each other and having sex a lot, actually showing their desire for each other but they also had so many tender moments which, again, i am not used to seeing with men like them? not just in bl in general, but a lot of the time, guys who look like Kinn and Porsche usually don’t have stories like the one they got (especially the romance) - it managed to be light-hearted in some moments, playful and hot in others and also downright tender and soft, they got to be sweet with each other, they were allowed to hold each other and love one another - plus the plot was something i actually enjoyed, there’s so much they could do with a second season if we get one, and the fandom experience here on tumblr was amazing!

i have not watched a lot of bls this year because my mental health went off the rails and it’s still not the best, but i am not at least watching some new shows... but kinnporsche took the crown for me personally this year, followed by Not me and Semantic error

favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)

in no particular order:

Oh aew & Teh (cause reasons and it did say not just from this past year)

Pat & Pran

Ink & Pa (they did appear in a bl sooo)

Kinn & Porsche (the hyperfixation is strong with this one)

Sean & White

Win & Team (i could not sit through UMWA because i just couldn’t do Dean and Pharm... sorry folks; but i enjoyed Win and Team as characters and also the little screentime they had as a couple so i am enjoying the hell out of Between Us)

Sam & Mon (they’re not even a couple yet, but the sapphics will always make it on the list... and they do have delicious chemistry)

honourable mention for this year:

Todd & Black (we all saw it, your mother saw it... they fucked before, they had that energy and it’s a hill i will die on)

what's your non-BL favorite this year?

if i am bad at bls and keeping up with them, then i am even worse with non-bl content...

i have a hard time connecting with shows so i either hyperfixate on something or i drop it before i even finish it...

i did enjoy the third and last season of Derry girls, cause i love them and i was sad that the show ended; i like the third season of The Umbrella Academy but season 2 will remain my favourite!

Young Royals and Heartstopper being the little gay shows i loved and adored and cherished too!

and recently i really enjoyed Wednesday on Netflix

thank you so much for tagging me!!!!!!! it was fun to go down memory lane..

i am tagging @bengiyo (Ben always has sooo much to talk about and his list will include so many delicious show that i have not seen!), @kyr-kun-chan, @shortpplfedup, @liyazaki, @gilly-bean, @jemmo @smittenskitten - no pressure though!

#bls of 2022 #g2ky bl mutuals 2022

[archiveikemen]

Mashiro Kanade Main Story — Chapter 26

I do not own any of the content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

read this before interacting with my posts

The cheers from the audience that filled the venue to the brim got louder.

Kanade: Nothing can stop us now.

His 'declaration of war' caught everyone's attention.

Just when Meguru got even more upset...

Staff: Director!

A staff member from Rindou came rushing towards Meguru and his colleagues.

Staff: I have a report.

Meguru: ... What is it?

Staff: The crowd is larger than we expected, our on-site staff can't handle it...

Meguru: ... Tch.

Seeing Meguru click his tongue in frustration, Koki had a slight smile.

Koki: That sounds troublesome.

Koki: Well, we don't intend to cause any horrible incidents.

Koki glanced at Gaku and Ritsu, then turned to face Meguru again.

Koki: Feel free to enjoy the show.

Meguru shot Koki one last glare and left in silence with Yuzuru.

(He left.)

I felt like a ton of bricks just got lifted off my shoulders.

Koki clapped his hands together to signal for us to restart the whole thing.

Koki: Now, that's enough of declaring war against Rindou.

Then...

Kanade: No. That wasn't nearly enough.

Henri: Kanade?

Kyoichiro: Kanade, you...

Kanade smiled confidently at Henri and Kyoichiro who were staring at him.

Kanade: Our singing is the real declaration of war.

Kanade: Am I right?

After a short moment of silence, everyone smiled.

Kyoichiro: That's right.

Henri: Alrighty then, shall we go?

Soon, it was night time and the curtains rose...!

The first band to perform on stage was HOUNDS.

The four members, eyes shining brighter than ever, came onto stage one by one.

Eisuke: There's a lot going on. But since we're already here, shouldn't we enjoy ourselves?

Ritsu: I'm just going to play as usual.

Ritsu spoke in a firm tone with a hint of nervousness.

Ritsu: ... Well, I guess it's better to have a good time than have a bad time.

Gaku glanced at Koki before getting on stage.

Gaku: ...

Koki: Gaku. It is time to show the world your ambition.

Gaku: ... Got it.

After responding to Koki, Gaku went out onto the stage.

And finally, Haruto gave me a confident grin...

Haruto: Hey.

MC: Ah...

Haruto raised his hand, waiting for a high five, and I raised mine too.

After a quick high five, Haruto turned around and walked into the spotlight up on stage.

(It's starting...)

(Our live show that will be our way of challenging the world.)

As I watched the four members of HOUNDS go on stage, I looked at the audience and gasped.

(It's exactly like the staff from Rindou said... there's a lot more people present than expected.)

(I've never seen anything like this.)

When I was starting to feel breathless, the intro to the first song by HOUNDS came on.

And...——

MC: ...!?

The crowd was cheering enthusiastically for HOUNDS, the staff from Rindou were violently pushing and shoving them to get the people to leave.

(Please let the performance go smoothly till the end...!)

I prayed with all my heart, but my eyes and ears were glued to the stage.

My body felt numb as the scene in the video recording Kanade showed me at his apartment seemed to have been replicated in front of my eyes in real life.

MC: ... Amazing.

I could feel my hands trembling, but I gripped them tightly and continued watching the performance...

Kanade: MC.

MC: ... Oh.

Kanade was standing behind me, he looked down at my trembling hands and smiled.

Kanade: What's the use of getting all shaken up over this?

MC: We've only just begun, and I'm already so overwhelmed.

MC: I wonder what will happen when it's SilverVine's turn to perform...

When I told him that, Kanade was calm as usual.

Kanade: When we hit the stage, you only have to focus on my voice and nothing else.

Kanade: Alright?

MC: Yup...!

With the crowd's cheers at its loudest, HOUNDS ended their performance...

As I greeted Haruto and his members with a smile, Kyoichiro called out to me while he was headed for the stage.

Kyoichiro: MC.

Kyoichiro: I hope Kanade can perform the song you poured your heart and soul into writing for him.

Kyoichiro: We will do our best as well. So, don't worry about us.

MC: Of course...!

Kyoichiro pat me on the shoulder and went on stage.

Henri came to stand before me.

Henri: I might be nothing compared to Kyoichiro and Kanade, but...

MC: Henri...?

I noticed the gloomy look on Henri's face and called out his name, then he responded with his usual bright smile.

Henri: I'm going to give it my best too!

Henri gave me a cheeky wink and joined the others on stage.

And...

Kanade: MC.

Kanade: I hope you're ready.

While I was staring at the stage, I heard my name being called and I turned around to see Kanade with an amused smile.

Kanade: Our night has just begun.

(It's finally time.)

I was already so pumped up that all I could do was scream and cheer. Kanade turned towards me and touched my ear while he tucker my hair behind it.

Kanade: I'm going to take over this place with my song. Don't you miss out on a single note I sing.

Kanade's powerful voice echoed through my uncovered ears.

Even though I was starting to tear up, I gave Kanade the biggest smile I could.

MC: Right here... I'll be listening to you sing.

At the same time I said that to him, memories of making this song with Kanade came flooding into my mind...

== Flashback Start ==

Kanade: ... Why I could perform a song like that, and what is my 'dream song'?

Kanade: It's not something I can explain in words.

(That night, when I heard you sing, that was the moment I realised I needed you in order to write my dream song.)

Kanade: If you can't make up your mind, then don't get involved.

Kanade: You should've known since the beginning that all challenges come with risks.

(Until that day, I was constantly anxious and uncertain.)

(There were times I even got so afraid, I wanted to quit.)

Kanade: Well... let's put it this way. Your song is like a raw gemstone.

Kanade: If it's not nicely cut and polished, it'll be nothing more than a dull rock.

Kanade: If it ends up being just a dull rock, then that's all it's ever good for.

(I was inspired by your unwavering determination and strong beliefs.)

(That's how I managed to come this far.)

== Flashback End ==

I looked up at Kanade's face with teary eyes as I realised once again how much he meant to me.

MC: All the best.

Kanade reached towards my face... and placed his hand behind my head before gently kissing me on the lips.

MC: Nn...!

I was stunned by the sudden kiss, and Kanade stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers.

Kanade: I'll be off.

He removed his hand from my cheek and turned around to make his way on stage.

The lingering sweet feeling from that kiss made me feel as if I was going to melt into a puddle on the spot...

Haruto: Hey, are you okay?

Haruto, who was wiping his sweat with a towel, quickly ran over to support me.

MC: Haru...to...

When I looked up with my face still burning, Haruto burst out laughing.

He turned his eyes towards Kanade on the stage and spoke.

Haruto: As expected of Kanade.

Haruto: He's always so cool.

MC: ... Yeah.

I smiled and looked up on stage.

MC: You truly are incredible.

All three members of SilverVine were on stage.

Kanade stood in front of the microphone, looking at the audience.

Henri called out to Kyoichiro, who was sitting down behind the drum set.

Henri: These are our 'accomplices' for tonight~

Henri: It feels even more amazing looking at them from up on stage.

Kyoichiro: Don't let the atmosphere get to you.

Kyoichiro grinned.

Kyoichiro: We'll be giving our best performance as usual.

Perhaps he heard their exchange, Kanade turned his head to look at Kyoichiro and Henri.

Kanade: Hmph... Kyoichiro is right, we'll perform as usual.

He said in a voice filled with confidence as he pointed his fingers to the sky.

Kanade: With this song, I will shoot down the bird that can't sing because it lost its voice.

He moved his hand down slowly and strummed the strings of his guitar.

Kanade: And...

Kanade: I will make it realise that the sky it's flying through is a lie.

#ikemen live #ikelive main story #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #kanade main story

[neochan]

GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct drabble #nct fic #nct scenario #hyuck smut #doyoung

[uwuwriting]

A little early for that w/ Todoroki, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: hii can i req a hc of todo, shinsou, and bakugou seeing y/n taking care of eri then they’ll be like “i want a baby with you” :D - anonymous

Don’t get me started on the latest BNHA chapter. I just don’t want to talk about it. I’ll try to make a double upload today so maybe expect a song fic after this one Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Todoroki Shoto 

-It was during Eri’s visit during christmas that it hit Todo. 

-You were dressed in a Santa costume just like everyone else with Eri gripping your hand as you took her around the room explaining all about Christmas celebrations. 

-It was a very mundane moment if you think about it. 

-You were being kind and caring to a child who had suffered immensely at the hands of Overhaul and you wanted to show her what the holiday was all about. 

-Now that he thinks of it, it shouldn’t have struck him like it did. 

-His chest became warm and fuzzy, his cheeks heating up a bit as he stared at you and Eri. 

-Then you kneeled down and brought Eri into a hug, raising her into the air so she could place an ornament on the class’s tree and it was game over for him. 

-He prides himself in being a rather collected person but at that moment he lost all sense of control over his emotions. 

-His mouth hung open and his chest started to squeeze, knocking the breath out of him. 

-He couldn’t help the thoughts of the both of  you owning a house somewhere not very far from Tokyo, waking up to you every morning , making breakfast with you and enjoying all the moments you shared. 

-Then other images flooded his mind. 

-Sitting in the living room as you steadied your toddler, a perfect mix of the two of you, helping them waddle towards him. 

-Him helping them place the ornament at the very top of your Christmas tree every time you decorated.

-He could see your smile so vividly he almost thought it was real. 

-It was a ridiculous thought for a 16 year old to have and he knew it but in that moment he let himself imagine it. 

-Before he knew it you were standing next to him, Eri running off to Aizawa excited to share what she just learned about christmas,  arms crossed over your chest as you let out a happy sigh. 

- “My santa work is done for the day.”

- “You would make a great mom” 

- *pikachu meme*

-He sensed your confusion *and so did your dead ancestors*

- “I want to be next to you when that happens.” 

-Girl you got whiplash from this whole conversation. 

-You couldn’t decide if you were soft and giddy since he basically said that he wants to start a family with you or if you were terrified because he said he wants to start A FAMILY WITH YOU WHEN YOU’RE BARELY 16. 

-In his defense he didn’t say he wanted to start now. 

-So you kinda calmed down. 

- “I-um thank you Sho. I think you would make a great father too.”

-Blushy blushy baby after that one. 

-Some denial sprinkled on top because trauma but blushy blushy boy. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Okay now third year Shinsou is a stressed Shinsou. 

-A third year you is a stressed you. 

-And a field day with your now ten year old somewhat trauma free adopted by your homeroom teacher child was what you both needed. 

-Shinsou is like a big brother to Eri at this point. 

-He has babysat her one too many times to not be considered at least a stable figure in her life. 

-You had decided to take a stroll in the park, the autumn air and all the pretty leaves making it a sight to behold. 

-Plus it had a pond with ducks. 

-And you love ducks. 

-Shinsou had brought some bread crumbs so you could feed them and that’s what you were doing when it hit him. 

-That weird domesticity. 

-You were crouched down on Eri’s height, one arm wrapped securely around her small waist so she wouldn’t fall into the pond and the other was outstretched with a piece of bread, motioning to the ducks to approach you. 

-It was a nice scene, picture perfect if you asked him and it did something to his heart strings. 

-Just like Todo he imagined walking home with you after a tiring day at your agency, your hands intertwined, matching golden bands circling your ring fingers. 

-He imagined a little Y/N being next to you and not Eri. 

-Vibrant purple hair sticking out at every which direction as they would throw bread at the ducks maybe even calling him over when one got too close. 

-He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you standing in front of him, waving your hand over his eyes so you could get his attention. 

- “Earth to Toshi!” 

-You giggled when he shook his head, his eyes wide as he stared at your smiling features. 

- “Eri is hungry-” “You are hungry Y/N-chan!!!” “- and she wanted to go get some good old onigiri from that new shop that opened down the street.” “Lies…”

-You side-eyed the little girl who outed you, her own eyes staring right back in accusation as you let out a sigh saying under your breath “I’m hungry”

-He couldn’t control his laughter as it bubbled from his lips, ruffling Eri’s hair while giving you a kiss on the lips as he circled his arm around your waist and took Eri’s with his other one. 

- “Can’t say no to my girls now, can I?” 

-It was later that night when he voiced his thoughts. 

-You were asleep in his dorm, laying basically on him with your head tucked in his neck as you breathed evenly. 

- “It’s a little early to think of kids but I can’t wait to have one with you.” 

-And with that he fell asleep his dreams being filled with images of you.

Bakugou Katsuki 

-You managed to get him to say that???

-Mister tough as balls?

-Mister imma roundhouse kick you if you look at me with affection in your eyes?

-Someone get this girl a medal. 

-But in all seriousness it was a very motherly move. 

-You were in your second year, the events of the war with the villains still haunting all of you so everyone was keeping an eye on their loved ones and their classmates. 

-Bakugou was no exception .

-Seeing people getting hurt severely, seeing himself so defeated and hurt during those battles had rattled him and he would always linger close to you, a slight paranoia having taken his place in his heart the past few months. 

-You understood why he did it, why he hovered next to you most of the time and if you were being honest it didn’t really bother you * except from that one time you went to the bathroom and he called you three times in a row bc he couldn’t see you and panicked*

-Eri was running around with Kaminari and Sero, the three of them playing tag with the one brain cell they all shared at the moment. 

-Suddenly, Eri tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the pavement, small tears forming in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. 

-In a flash you were next to her, a hand massaging her knee around the area of the wound while the other one was cupping her cheek, your thumb making small circles on the girl’s cheekbones. 

- “It’s just a scratch. See? It’s not that bad.”

-Bakugou was just staring at the scene unfolding in front of him, his immediate thoughts being that you looked so motherly in that moment. 

-The concern and the reassurance reminded him of his mother when she would calm him down after he got hurt, before she became a pain in the ass *as he likes to say*.

-Without him even realizing it he made a mental image of your shared family. 

-A house in the outskirts, with a yard, maybe a dog running around. 

-But most importantly a little demon that looked like you, climbing onto your shared bed on his day off, nestling in between you two as it went back asleep.

-You making breakfast while having them in your arms. 

-He really wished he could see that now. 

-But he’s a little young and you wouldn’t really like having a baby before finishing high school sooo he kinda buried it. 

-He told you about it when you both were in his dorm getting ready for a movie night. 

-It was a more aggressive approach but you got the point of his little rant. 

- “I want to spend my life with you too Katsu.” 

- “SHUT UP SHITTY WOMAN!”

- “OI!”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22​ @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @luluwiie​ @threeamwriting​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​

#todoroki #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #Todoroki Shōto #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shoto todoroki x you #domestic todoroki #shinsou #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #bnha shinsou #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shisnou hitoshi x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha

[rattyoakenbitch]

youtubers: “don’t touch her” ₊˚ ⸝  corpse husband x reader

❝i don't wanna think about, think about you. drink up, drink up i'm so fucked up, all i want is you.❞

gif credit: n/a song: lykke li - sex money feelings die

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

pairings: corpse husband x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, drinking, smoking, violent language, and minor mentions of anxiety.

summary: i can’t make summaries rn hhh just read it (:

“Sean, there is no way in hell I’m going!”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s what you always say!”

“Ugh, you and Corpse are so stubborn. At least I was able to convince him to show up! You know what you need? To get out of the house more often and come hang with us.”

“Uh huh, yeah, y’all have fun, I got some stuff to finish.”

“Yeah? Like what? Your ten hour nap?”

“HEY! Excuse me -”

“7PM, [club address], you’re showing up.”

“Sean - !”

With that, Sean hung up. You let out an exasperated huff, crossing your arms and pouting like a toddler who was just denied a toy. You were invited, or more accurrately forced to celebrate whatever the hell Sean and his friends achieved. With lives like theirs, it seemed like there was always something to celebrate. 

You, on the other hand.. Well, you were just little old you. You met Sean by mere chance. It’s a very long story, but you shared some things in common, like your love for video games. However, that was about the only thing you could relate to with Sean and his little friend circle. You were more passionate about writing, as well as reading short horror stories. 

Now, that’s where you clicked with Corpse Husband. 

He was an underrated YouTuber, whose main uploads were narration videos on creepypastas and horror stories. That’s until he blew up with his Among Us gameplays, collaborating with big names like PewDiePie, Jacksepticeye, and CrankGamePlays (EEF!!!).

You met over an Among Us stream with said YouTubers and immediately hit it off. You shared a dark sense of humor, love for horror, and music. You knew of Corpse before, but only then did you discover that he produced music, which you absolutely enjoyed (and blasted in your house for days on end).

When you found out you lived not even twenty minutes away from each other, you’d occasionally meet up, mostly at his house considering he only went out once in a blue moon. You’d sometimes even spend the night at his place, staying up late, gazing up at the stars, getting deep into conversation and opening up about things you never blurted out to people. But when you were with Corpse, everything just came naturally. You felt safe with him, and hopefully, he felt the same. 

Night approached, the clock striking 5PM. You figured you’d get ready since Sean was dead set on you coming to the party. You showered, did a minimalist glossy makeup look, and chose an outfit, which consisted of a half neon green and black skirt that stopped mid thigh, and an oversized distressed band tee which you tucked into your belt. You slipped on a pair of ripped, striped thigh-highs with mismatched colors, (white stripes on one and neon blue on the other), and your platform boots that made you look like a Bratz Doll. You didn’t bother with your tangled hair. You teased it with a brush but didn’t put any effort into styling it, since it’d get messy anyways. To finish your look, you clipped on a choker and dangled a couple of layered chains around your neck.

Corpse would tease you, saying you had a “dog collar”, but you knew he secretly liked it.

All dolled up and ready to go, you hopped into your car and followed the GPS to the address Sean sent you. Drunk couples stumbled out of the club, dates headed inside, and old wasted guys were thrown out. Oh boy, you were not ready for this.

You were the anxious, anti social type. Not because it was edgy or cool, but you simply didn’t know how to handle social situations. However, it comforted you to know Corpse would be there by your side so you didn’t need to chat and flirt with strangers. 

It’s not like you wanted to meet anybody new, anyways. Though nobody was aware of it, you had feelings for Corpse. Cliche, right? You knew you shouldn’t have, but you developed feelings for him. It made you feel strange and weird, considering you haven’t caught feelings in a while.

You came up with the bright idea of slowly drifting away from Corpse to maybe help de-escalate these feelings, but you were going to run into him at the club, so what the heck.

You headed inside, your eyes scanning the crowd and pushing through, searching for your friend group. You spent a couple minutes cluelessly looking around the club, but to no avail. Then, it was as if a light bulb clicked on over your head; you never thought to phone Sean.

“Ugh, I’m so stupid.” You reached into your purse to get ahold of your phone when a pair of strong, manly hands and cold metal which you assumed to be rings wrapped around your shoulders, gripping you tightly. 

“Boo!” 

You felt your heart stop and ran out of the man’s grasp, spinning around to look at who it was.

“Oh, did I scare you?” 

The man’s deep, monotone voice rumbled above the sound of the music and shouts. Then you recognized that unique and distinctive voice. 

“Corpse!! What the hell?”

His nose and jaw was covered by a black mask, with a print that looked like Frank from Donnie Darko, which was also Corpse’s signature look, seen in his channel art. 

Despite Corpse being a faceless YouTuber, only very few people have seen his face, including you and Glam&Gore who he featured in his narration videos. You thought he was very handsome, his baritone voice matching his appearance. You had to admit, you were a little disappointed he chose to wear a mask. You loved seeing his facial expressions, especially his precious smile that would light up the room when he’d let out little fits of laughter. But you got over it and respected the fact that he wanted to remain anonymous.

“You dickhead,” you scoffed, smacking Corpse lightly on the shoulder. Corpse towered over you, looking admittedly both intimidating and seductive. If you were a stranger, you’d probably be running off, but you weren’t scared of Corpse. He was a big softie and a teddy bear.

Corpse chuckled lowly, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you to Sean’s group. He was protective like that, even if you were just friends. Now you could see why Sean, at one point, speculated that you and Corpse had a thing going on. 

“So, Sean forced you to tag along, too?”

“Pfft, yeah, that’s Sean for you.”

“Hey, there’s my favorite couple,” Sean joked, patting your shoulder. You rolled your eyes at his drunk antics.

“Shut up, don’t make me choke you like I hate you,” you mocked in return, eliciting a fit of laughter from the group. 

“Remind me to never hang out with you losers again,” Corpse mumbled sarcastically under his breath.

The night went by in a flash. Sean, Thomas, Felix, and everyone else was blackout drunk. Luckily, Mark was there to assist them. Since Mark couldn’t drink, he would be the designated driver that night. Corpse hung out by himself, sometimes getting approached by women who he politely turned down.

You, on the other hand, were downing alcohol like your life depended on it. For you, it would take more than the average number of drinks for you to get wasted.

“Y/N, don’t you think you should slow down?” Corpse questioned cautiously, resting a hand on the small of your back.

“Does it really look like I’m thinking right now?” you drunkenly slurred, following with a giggle. You waved to the bartender, calling for another shot, which he slid over to you, but not without hesitating after noticing your state. You pushed Corpse off of you, probably more harshly than you intended, and took the shot. 

“Okay, Y/N, fuck this, I’m taking you to my place. We can’t stay here and you certainly can’t drive back home when you’re drunk,” Corpse scowled, stepping closer to you. Again, you shoved him back.

“No.. No..” You sighed, holding your pounding head in your hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Y/N, you’re drunk -”

“I’m not letting you of all people take me.”

Corpse blinked. “What does that mean?” He knew you were drunk, of course, and you were probably just blurting nonsense.

All of a sudden, tears escaped your eyes, racing down your blushy cheeks.

“No.. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.” You began to shake and tremble as tears started to uncontrollably spill down your face. Corpse didn’t waste another second to take you in his arms, hushing you. “Your hugs are so warm.. I hate it. I hate feeling this way. It’s all my fault.”

“What did you do, sweetheart? You can tell me.”

Your heart ached when you heard his pet name for you.

“I think I may like you more than you like me.. I-I didn’t mean to! Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have,” you sobbed into his white tee, clinging onto him. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts. I shouldn’t have!”

Corpse stopped for a moment, processing your words.

You.. felt the same?

Corpse had to tell you. You were drunk, but he needed you to know. 

“Y/N, I -”

Suddenly, you had a moment of clarity. Realizing how close you were to Corpse, you backed away, wiping away the mascara tears under your eyes.

“I - I think I had too much to drink.. I just need a smoke..” 

Without giving Corpse the chance to protest, you ran off into the crowd, struggling your way through. 

Corpse began to get worried when you didn’t come back. He waited impatiently on the barstool where you left him, anxiously playing with his rings.

He was just about to get up and look for you, when he caught a glimpse of you stumbling out the exit with another man who guided you, gripping your arm tightly.

Corpse fumed, his face going red and heartbeat speeding up. He went after you, knowing damn well you didn’t know this man. 

The man took you to his car, placing you atop the trunk, your legs dangling over the edge. He stepped in between your legs, caressing your face. Everything was a blur. If your mind was clear, you wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust this random guy, who was probably ten years older than you. 

“You’re too pretty to be crying,” he whispered, leaning in closer to your face, until a yell stopped him from proceeding any further.

“Hey, asshole, she’s drunk! Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“C-Corpse?” You hiccuped, hopping off the trunk to get a look at the approaching figure. It was indeed Corpse. His eyebrows were pressed together angrily at the sight.

“You know this dude?” the man said loudly and smugly, just to get a reaction from Corpse. “Relax, my man, I’m just tryna take this pretty girl home.”

“Well this pretty girl happens to be mine, and I won’t let you take advantage of her,” Corpse growled. 

You stood by the stranger, clinging to him as you watched Corpse’s face twist into an expression of heartbreak when you didn’t budge. He then noticed the bruises around your arms and wrist, supposedly from the man’s strong grip. He was unbelievably furious. 

“Ha, doesn’t look like she’s your girl anymore.” The man’s lips twisted upwards into a devilish smirk, only pissing Corpse off some more. Oh boy, was he ready to snap. He reached into his pocket, when..

“Wait,” you managed to slur out, breaking up the argument. You reached out towards Corpse like a child. His facial expression immediately softened. He gave you a loving smile and immediately took you into his arms, holding you protectively. 

“Now, I suggest you get in your car and never come back,” Corpse threatened.

“Oh, yeah? Or what? I’ll kill you and take your girl, you motherfucker!”

Without hesitation, Corpse took out his switchblade, looking the man in his eyes.

“Say that again?”

You watched as the stranger’s whole tough act fell apart. Without another word, he ran to the driver’s side of his car, fumbling with his keys. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Corpse mumbled, not taking his eyes off the man until he reached his own car. You held his hand the whole way, processing what had just happened. Corpse noticed your distant expression. You got into his car, shutting the door and slumping back into your seat. He tore off his mask, taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Then he looked back to you. 

“Princess?”

You looked to Corpse, your eyes teary. “Hey, Corpse.” You didn’t seem to be as drunk, your mind a lot clearer after the incident. “D-Did you mean anything you said back there? About the..”

“About you being my girl?” 

Corpse took your hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his free hand. “Absolutely.” 

With that, you leaned towards him, hesitantly pressing your lips to his. Your lips tasted of alcohol, but Corpse didn’t care. He was admittedly taken back, his breath hitching, but he released the tension from his body and kissed you back, pulling you over to the driver’s seat atop him. There wasn’t much space, forcing you to press closer to Corpse, deepening the kiss. 

Still being a bit drunk, you were clumsy and kind of ‘out of it’. 

“I’d hold onto something if I were you,” Corpse mumbled, breaking the kiss momentarily to guide your hands to grip his shoulders. But you were impatient and reconnected your lips with his, no doubt causing him to blush even more than he already was.

You couldn’t help yourself and giggled into the kiss, causing Corpse to chuckle along with you, departing from the kiss again and resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so fucking adorable when you giggle.” 

You hummed in response, offering Corpse an innocent grin as you pecked all over his face. 

“I’m so glad you’re mine.”

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x female reader #corpse x female reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband oneshot #jacksepticeye #markiplier #crankgameplays #sykkuno #youtube #youtubers #among us #rattyoakenbitch #pewdiepie #aesthetic gif #lykke li #tw: drunk #tw: drinking #tw: alcohol #tw: smoking #tw: violence #tw: anxious thoughts #tw: anxiety

[moonandsunwoo]

permission to dance. e.s

# — pairing: eric sohn x reader

# — genre: fluff, IdolAU, established relationship

# — warnings: none, just clingy bf!eric

# — listen to: permission to dance by BTS

♡ requested by the sweet @mingiandbaconjam ! Thank you so much for you lovely lovely ask, I hope you like this! Have a nice day! ♡

🪴

When you entered the practice room, you felt like a wall hit you. A very comfy wall, dressed in baggy clothes and a quite nice smelling wall but a wall none the less.

“I missed you so much.” Eric, formerly known as that very wall, mumbled against the crock of you neck, giving you approximately two and a half seconds to catch your breath before pulling you even tighter.

“Hello to you to babe.” Your voice was swallowed up by his oversized shirt but Eric didn’t seem to mind. He just relaxed in your arms for a moment, dramatically sighing when you moved back a bit.

“Damn you act like we didn’t see each other for months.” You laughed, letting your hands drop from hugging his chest into his hands. Eric just shrugged, a tiny smirk tugging on his lips.

“I mean, that’s how it does feel sometimes. Most times, especially when I’m conscious.” He shot you a cheeky wink before you swatted his arm lightly, pulling him down momentarily to press your lips to his.

“Cheesy.”

Eric helped you put away your bag and dimmed the lighting a bit, nodding towards the lose AUX chord.

“Any specifics you wanna practice today?” he asked, pushing an abandoned water bottle to the side before grabbing two fresh ones from the minifridge. You shrugged, connecting your phone to the speakers.

“Nothing specific really…we don’t have a stage coming up or anything. And even if we had,” you gave him a small grin, “I wouldn’t be the one to spoil it.” Eric gripped his chest in mock pain, throwing you a pained glance.

“Not even to your boyfriend? The one providing you with free hugs and food?” you shook your head.

“Nope. And your heart is on the other side, you idiot.” he just waved it off, walking up on you before dramatically pulling you into his chest.

“My heart is right where you are.” Not even Eric himself could hold back his laughter when your eyes met through one of the large mirrors on the wall.

“Can you just not.” Was all you huffed trying to suppress your laughter, leaning back into his touch nonetheless.

“My heart is crying.” Eric countered theatrically, arms tightening around your waist, face once again resting against your neck.

“Better make it stop. Someone could slip on your tears and then what. Are you even insured?” he just giggled before spinning you around so you’d face him.

“Feisty.” You decided to retort with kiss, an answer Eric accepted without hesitating.

Warming up with Eric was as messy as expected and you weren’t sure if you were actually out of breath because of the muscle exercise or because of your laughter since Eric never failed to make an absolute fool out of himself. Besides not being able to keep his hands to himself for longer than five minutes and pecking your cheek about one million times in between.

The moment you probably absolutely lost it, was when Eric tried to show off the splits (and failed miserably) and when you teased him for it, decided to play “Penalty”, screaming along to the chorus. It resulted in you crawling into his lap, covering his face with small kisses to make the yelling stop. He accepted them with a small pout that disappeared fairly quick and let you take your phone out of his hands to find a next song to actually dance to.

He just wrapped his arms around your body and scooted back until his back hit the mirrors, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

“What you wanna have next?” you mumbled absentmindedly, scrolling through one of your shared playlists with him. There was a suspicious high amount of slower tunes and you knew for sure that Eric was responsible for all of them.

“You don’t really add upbeat songs, just spicy stuff.” You turned to him, eyebrows risen. “Alina Baraz, Show Me?” his grin turned almost unbearably smug. “Any ulterior motives, Sir?”

“Never baby. Why, you like the song? I should add more The Weeknd, you remind me.” you just hummed, scrolling past it quickly.

You probably spent the next ten minutes like that, you cuddled up in his arms, going back and forth between various songs and genres, when someone knocked at the door.

Eric immediately tensed up at the disturbance, still not used to the fact that the company had in fact approved of your relationship by now (if kept low-key. Which was probably why Eric kept making the biggest fuss over reunions even if you were apart for just a few hours.)

“Yeah?” You called out, drawing soothing circles over the back of his hand.

“It’s just me, Kev! Forgot my water bottle and I wanted to do a live before going to the dorms.” Kevin’s bright beanie came into frame first, before a mildly tired face followed.

“Sure, it’s over there. We’re just practicing some more.” Eric relaxed again, pressing a quick kiss against you neck.

“Yeah I see, you two are super busy practicing.” Kevin huffed, stalking towards the fitted kitchen in the corner of the practice room.

“We were just trying to find a good song to dance to.” Eric whined at the accusing tone of his older brother, pulling you closer against his chest.

“Sure.” Kevin grinned, grabbing the lonely bottle of water before making a bee line for the door.

“Don’t let me bother you two. Just don’t be nasty.” Eric let out an embarrassed yell before aiming with his shoe at the now laughing Kevin. The shoe hit the quickly closing door with a muffled thud, the sound of it falling to the ground drowned out by your laughter.

“So annoying…” Eric just mumbled, burying his face in your shoulder again.

You just grinned, scrolling aimlessly through your playlists.

“Let’s see…oh what do you think about that one…?” Eric lifted his face from his nuzzled position to peek over your shoulder.

“Permission to dance?” you nodded, finger hovering over the bright orange cover.

“Alright let’s go!” he exclaimed, slipping away and scrambling to get up to get his shoe.

A few ungraceful hops on one leg into your direction and some fumbling with his shoe he came to a halt right when the first chorus of the song sounded through the speakers.

“Permission to dance?” Eric asked with a small bow, a grin on his lips. You took his offered hand and let him pull you up on you feet.

“You don’t need permission to dance Eric. Especially not with me.”

also dedicated to all deobi who recognize the spicy songs Eric always plays during his lives, whilst acting like he's totally not doing it on purpose

⌕ m.list

© written by moonandsunwoo on tumblr. do not copy or re-upload.

#multifandomnet #tbznetwork #tbz eric x reader #eric sohn fluff #requested! [♥︎] #words of my own [writing] #the boyz eric #eric sohn x reader #eric x y/n #eric x reader #eric x you #eric sohn x you #tbz x y/n #tbz x you #tbz scenarios #tbz drabbles

[bxngchxn]

friends don’t || h.jisung

This is a re-upload from my old blog, @ethereal-bang ! I’ll be uploading most if not all of my old works every once in awhile. Hope you like it!

Characters: Jisung x female reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Type: Friends to Lovers, fluff, smut, college!jisung

Warnings: unprotected sex (always use a condom!), oral (female receiving)

This is intended for mature audiences. Do not read if you are under the age of 18.

Y/N: hey sungie i have to make a run to the grocery store, do you want to go with me?

Jisung: well i was supposed to meet up with Changbin

Y/N: oh, okay, that’s fine then

Jisung: you didn’t let me finish

Jisung: he can wait, did you want me to head over now?

Y/N: yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you soon!

Jisung: be there in 10 :)

You put your phone into your pocket and smile. One of your favorite things to do was run errands with Jisung. Whether they were yours or his, just spending quality time with your best friend was the way you relaxed. You’d been doing this ever since the two of you moved to off campus apartments your second year of college. What started as him going grocery shopping with you because you needed someone to carry in the heavy essentials, turned into something you did at least once every two weeks. The ride to the store is always short but filled with laughs and conversation.

Jisung’s presence, to put it as simply as possible, puts you at peace. No matter what is happening around the two of you, the feeling of being near him gives you the feeling of just waking up; still sleepy, but like the comfortable feeling that settles in your chest when you’re finally coherent enough to feel the softness of your bed.

It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met. Shy smiles exchanged in lecture turned into study sessions in the library, and before you knew it, you were thrown into a new group of friends with the surprisingly noisy boy from your chem class. Always down for a crazy adventure, Jisung had pushed you to try things you normally wouldn’t, and you were grateful for all of the experiences.

You came to notice, though, that there was something bubbling in your chest every time Jisung would get a little too close at a party, the two of you a little drunk. Like that one time, the two of you giggling at an absolutely hammered Seungmin who is trying to beat someone at a b-boying competition in a bar somewhere downtown. The smell of his cologne and the heat of his body so close to you that you lose all track of thought. When a hand on your waist that leads you through a crowded room, just making sure he doesn’t lose you sends fireworks up your chest.

You know that this is something that just friends don’t do, something that just friends don’t feel. The scary part was that you weren’t sure if you were just imagining things, or if there was actually something there.

Jisung insists on riding in the cart while you push it through the store, and though you complain about how heavy he is, you do it with a smile on your face the entire time. You opt for piling your groceries on top of him instead, hoping that the weight of the bag of apples you put on his stomach urges him to get out of the cart and actually help you.

And eventually he does, after some complaining that you buy too many heavy things. Jisung helps you carry all of it regardless.

Jisung is absolutely whipped for you. Pretty much anyone can see it, and when he first gets teased about it by Seungmin, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Thinks that, you know, everyone spends as much time as they can with their best friend. It’s normal for the two of you to plan future vacations, future holidays together, right? Right?

It hits him late one night that maybe his feelings are more complex than he thought. You had called him, at 2 in the morning, unable to fall asleep. “I just wanted to say hi, and hear your voice I guess,” you tell him, and his heart melts. Your voice is soft, and sounds like you really could fall asleep any second. It makes Jisung smile, and while he’s talking about how his day is going, and the songs he’s been working on with Chan and Changbin, he can hear your breathing even out on the other end.

Quietly saying your name, he confirms that you’re asleep when you don’t answer him. He feels that familiar feeling creep up, the one he gets when he’s always with you, and thinks to himself: Is this what being in love with someone feels like? The feeling is so soft and familiar that he really hadn’t realized it all those times before. Maybe the guys were right, and you two definitely weren’t just friends. Or at least that was what he wanted to believe.

Everything comes to a stop when the two of you attend a house party together. The music is loud and fast, and Jisung can’t help but let his eyes roam over your body as you dance with a girl from your history class. The smile on your face is the brightest he’s ever seen, and it makes him feel a little dizzy, more than the small amount of alcohol he’s had tonight ever could. When the song changes, and the beat turns sensual, Jisung decides that he’s had enough of beating around the bush. He was going to tell you just how he felt about you, and he’s praying that it’s reciprocated.

Jisung walks up to you, cool and confident with his red solo cup in his hand. You look up at him, and blush when his hand lands on your waist. “My turn for a dance.” he says, and you oblige. To your surprise, Jisung turns you around and his grip on you tightens.

“Jisung, what are you doing?” you giggle when he leans down to answer you, his breath tickling the skin below your ear. “What do you think I’m doing?” he asks. His hips start to move against yours, on beat with the music. The hand that’s holding his drink takes one of yours, resting it on the hand on your hip. He feels warm, and the feeling of him behind you makes you feel small in the best way possible.

His lips trail down to your neck, and you almost moan at the feeling. “You can’t tell me,” he begins, kissing your neck softly between every word spoken, “that you don’t feel whatever this is between us,”

He gets a little more confident when you turn to look at him, and in an instant his lips are on yours. It’s soft, but full of need. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, fully turning around in his hold and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. You have to tiptoe a little too reach his lips, and the realization makes Jisung laugh.

When you pull away, you look at him. Lips swollen, hair a little messed up at the nape where you decided to thread your fingers through it. You felt fireworks go off when you looked into his eyes. You were right, the two of you definitely weren’t just friends.

“Let’s head home, yeah?” you ask him, and you’ve never seen him move so fast. Taking your hand, he leads you through the crowd. You say your goodbyes to whoever you can find, most of the guys off somewhere in the party. The two of you miss the look Seungmin gives to Jeongin at the sight of your hands intertwined, and Jeongin groans as he pulls $5 out of his wallet.

_____________________________

By the time Jisung leads you into your own apartment, the excitement has built up so much that you feel like you could burst. Pushing you up against the door once inside, Jisung can’t keep his hands off of you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold you like this..” He says as he presses another hot kiss to your lips. You make a move to lift his shirt, and he lets you. You’ve seen Jisung shirtless a hundred times, but looking at him like this, you were absolutely sure that there was nowhere you wanted to be more right now, than underneath him.

You’re surprised at your own boldness as you push him towards the direction of your bedroom. He gets the hint and grabs your thighs. “Jump,” he says, and you comply. He lifts you up and carries you through the apartment, hands roaming your thighs and your ass as he tries to navigate the apartment with your lips on his neck.

Setting you on the bed softly, Jisung is immediately on top of you. His hands are all over you, trying to get you out of your clothes as fast as possible. Once your shirt is off and your skirt is pushed up, he fumbles with the zipper in the back and groans when notices the matching lavender set you’re wearing. Purple was never his favorite color until this exact moment.

The feeling of his hands on you, warm and safe and protective, sets a fire in you that had been long overdue. You arch your back when his hands move to your breasts, fingers roaming over the fabric and looking up at you for approval. You nod your head and he takes the piece of clothing off. His lips attach to your nipple and you have to hold in a whimper at the sensation.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, I swear on my life,” he mutters, and your cheeks blush at such a soft compliment in such an intimate setting. Your mind is already going hazy, the soft touches he’s giving you are good but nowhere near enough.

“Jisung please..please touch me,” you ask. He looks you in the eyes and grins, slowly making his way down your body. “I thought you would never ask,” he says as he licks a long line up your slit. Your hands fly to his hair, feeling the soft tresses in your fingers as he takes you somewhere you’ve never been before. “God, Jisung s-so good,” you say in between moans. It spurs him on, enough to insert a finger into your core. The added friction makes the knot in your stomach tighten, and before you know it, you’re desperately begging Jisung to make you cum.

He adds another finger and his lips find your clit, sucking on it as if his life depended on it. His fingers hit a spot inside of you that makes your vision go white, and the only thing you can think to say is his name as your first orgasm rushes over you. Once he’s made sure that you’ve ridden out your high, he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, licking them clean.

Jisung comes back up and kisses you harshly, full of passion and lust. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and the sensation makes you moan into his mouth. You pull on the belt of his jeans, realizing he hasn’t taken them off yet.

Pushing him onto the bed, you climb on top of him and help him with his jeans. The sight of you on top of Jisung has him unbelievably hard, and he’s sure he’s in heaven when your hands make contact with his cock. Putting your hands on his chest, you watch as Jisung helps you align his cock with your entrance. You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling. He stretched you in just the right ways, and you can’t help but think that this is the way it’s always supposed to be. The two of you, together.

“Fuck, I love you,” you say without thinking, and Jisung pauses. The look in his eyes is definite: Absolutely sure and absolutely in love. He pulls you down and holds you close as he begins to move inside of you. His lips find your neck, whispering sweet nothings against you as his pace begins to pick up.

Before you know it, Jisung is fucking up into you at a wild pace, a clear contrast to the praises he’s saying in his ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me baby.. You were made for me. I love you so much.” He says, and that’s enough to feel the coil tighten in you for the second time. You push your lips against his, effectively swallowing every noise you make as you reach your high. Jisung is moving even faster, if possible, and the grip he has on your waist is so strong you’re sure it’s going to leave bruises in the morning. The only thing you can think of is the way Jisung is saying your name, desperate and wanton.

The sensitivity from your second orgasm has you clenching around Jisung, and that’s when he loses it. One hand moves to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you into a kiss filled with every emotion he ever needed to feel. You feel him fill you up and sigh, warm and content.

The two of you stay there for a moment; relishing in the way you feel wrapped around each other. You roll off of Jisung to lay beside him on the bed, and his arm wraps around your waist, not wanting to be away from you for even a moment. You giggle at how messy his hair looks and take a piece of it between your fingers.

“You know, I meant every word I said to you,” he says softly as he looks into your eyes. “I know you did. And I love you. I love you so much, Han Jisung,” you say. He sighs almost in relief, and he can confirm that this moment, right here, is the happiest that he’s ever felt. After years of all the unspoken words, ghosting touches and what ifs, you were finally his. “I love you too. More than anything.” he says as he pulls you close.

Jisung’s presence, to put it as simply as possible, puts you at peace. No matter what is happening around the two of you, the feeling of being near him gives you the feeling of just waking up; still sleepy, but like the comfortable feeling that settles in your chest when you’re finally coherent enough to feel the softness of your bed. And that next morning, when you do wake up and see Jisung laying next to you, the feeling is magnified by tens of thousands. The way the sun is catching on his face makes him glow, and when he pulls you into him with the promise of “5 more minutes,” you don’t refuse.

#my writing #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #jisungie

[junicai]

Learn the Alphabet with Aria + Friends ;

273,175 views • 15 Mar 2021 • uploaded by [haechanieski]

A is for: “Adios”

Filming a JCC episode was always something Aria looked forward to - either because she got to watch it later and laugh, or she was a guest star herself. Johnny had taken it upon himself to uphold the communication part of his series name, and asked Aria to teach Czennie some Irish while she was around. 

“And how do you say goodbye?”

“Adios!” Aria spoke with full confidence, a beaming smile directed to the camera. 

Johnny behind her snorted. “Adios?” 

Aria blinked, before spluttering. “Oh no not adios that’s the wrong - that’s not Irish.”

“Isn’t that Spanish?” 

“...yeah.”

B is for: “Baby~”

Aria was leant forward her knees, eyes fixated on the laptop in front of her that was playing the 90s Love music video. It was the first time she had seen it edited and polished, and she was anxiously anticipating her own scenes. 

An Aria appeared on the screen, running her tongue over her top teeth before scrunching her nose and giving the camera a wink. She spun on her heel, tossing a jacket over her shoulder and tilted her head so her sultry smirk was visible to the camera. 

The boys around her clamored loudly, and Aria cringed away from the video - right into Ten’s awaiting embrace who clasped her head in his grip and stopped her from turning her head away from the laptop.

“Baby~” Ten sang, curling his arms around Aria. “My baby is all grown up~” 

Aria whined, thrashing weakly in Ten’s grip in an attempt to shake the boy off. “Nooo.”

“My baby~” 

C is for: “Chewing Gum”

“Yes! It’s been a long time since we performed our debut song.” Aria took over from Chenle who had been speaking into the phone cradled in his hands. The voice-only vlive had been unplanned, and neither idol had been willing to put their messy bedheads on video for their fans to immortalize on twitter. 

Chenle snickered. “Noona is just thankful that she gets to wear things other than pajamas on stage now,” He teased, jostling the phone as he leant over to poke her. 

“That’s not true! Bubblegum will always have a special place in my heart.” Aria defended herself, crossing her arms in front of her stomach to protect it.

Chenle retracted his hand to stare up at Aria with a disbelieving face. She looked back at him, as the boy burst into laughter. 

“Bubblegum?” 

“Chewing gum! I said chewing gum. You misheard me.”

“Bubblegum-” Chenle was wheezing, hand gripping Aria’s arm tightly.

“I’m a foreigner! I have an accent!” 

“Noona, that’s in English?!”

D is for: “Deicide”

“Jaemin! Leave me alon- ow.” Aria’s attempts to fight off a cuddly boy proved ineffective, the boy in question succeeding in drawing the squirming girl onto his lap and securing her in position with his arms around her waist. 

Aria let out a long-suffering sigh, closing her eyes in resignation. 

“Okay, yes, okay. Fine. I’m done you win.” 

Jaemin smiled, satisfied, and tucked his head into the crook of Aria’s neck, humming to himself. His content mood was quickly yanked away from him however, as Aria leant down to whisper in his ear.

“Jaeminne. If you don’t let me go to finish doing my hair, I’m going to remind you of the fact that I have zero qualms with deicide, and you have yet to reach god-like standards.” 

Paling slightly, he retracted his hands and Aria pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping off his thigh. 

E is for: “Eomma”

Aria squealed as she was tackled down, hitting the ground with a thunk as Jaehyun leapt for her from across the room. “No no no I’m sorry I take it back I take it back-” 

Jaehyun was grinning down at her as he slid his hands up her sides and began to tickle her, pinning down her flailing arms as she tried to hit him. “Oh yeah? You’re sorry now?”

“Yes! Yes I’m sorry I promise - you’re not - I didn’t mean it -” Aria struggled to get the words out, unable to catch her breath. 

“Eomma!” She cried out, face red and hurting with how much she was laughing. “Help mee~” 

F is for: “Fudge”

Stumbling around the dorm in the dark was never a good idea, but it was late and the other members besides herself and Donghyuck were already asleep. Aria hadn’t wanted to disturb them, so the only lighting the pair had was the fading light from their phone flashlights. 

“I can’t see it, but I know I put it down here somewhere? Do you think it’s behind the tab- FU-dge. I like fudge, do you like fudge?” Aria leant over the table to rest her arm on Donghyuck’s shoulder, peering at him curiously. 

Her eyes were pinched with pain, and she was hopping slightly. 

“Did you stub your toe on the table?” 

“Psh, no! This is a serious question Hyuck. Fudge preferences are serious business.” 

G is for: “Gorgeous”

“Oh! Gorgeous dahling. Positively stunning.” Aria spoke in a pompous voice, face pulled down with pinched lips and squinted eyes and obnoxiously raised eyebrows. She fluttered her hand around in an aggressively dramatic hand gesture, before spinning on her heel to flounce out of the room. 

Mark and Taeyong exchanged a wide eyed glance. Clearly the ‘Greek God’ inspired video had gone more to her head than they had previously anticipated. 

H is for: *intense heavy breathing*

Jungwoo took one look at Aria lying on the practice room floor, and immediately proceeded to flop down - belly first - onto the unsuspecting girl. Aria let out an oof, choking slightly at the sudden weight on her chest. 

“Jung-w-oo,” She coughed out, slapping weakly at the weight of the older boy. 

He only hummed in response, not moving from his position, despite the fact that Aria’s zip on her hoodie was digging into his cheek. He swung his arms up to cover her shoulders, and soon he was lying completely on top of her, obscuring the smaller girl from view. 

All was quiet for a moment, before Aria broke the silence with exaggerated, heavy breathing, panting for air. Her eyes widened comically, and she was smiling despite the fact that Jungwoo was actually crushing her lungs slightly.

Still, no attempt was made to get off her, and she slowly resigned herself to her fate. 

I is for: “I surrender”

The camera was set up a safe distance away, so that when the bag of flour fell to the ground and poofed up in the inevitable cloud of white dust - the piece of equipment was unharmed. Because of this, it was given a perfect view of the sequence of events that immediately followed: 

Aria, grip-less in her socked feet stepped backwards out of the flour coating the floor, misjudged the circumference of the circular cloud that had by then settled, and promptly slipped over, clattering to the ground with a thud and disappearing behind the counter with a half-formed yelp. 

The screen was empty for a moment, still, before a hand shot up from behind the counter, coated in the white flour.

“I surrender,” Aria waved her hand back and forth like a flag, commiserating with the now ruined flour lining the tiled floor. 

J is for: “Jesus Christ”

The walls were lined with fake and real cobwebs alike, barely visible in the complete lack of light offered from the red blinking lights of the cameras that recorded each NCT 127 member as they crawled their way tentatively through the haunted house’s hallways.

Aria shuffled past old beams that looked far too close to collapse for comfort, sneezing after her nose was ticked by a hanging vine that she hadn’t seen before it was already brushing her nose as she scooted past. 

The hallways were quiet, only the sound of her own breathing audible to her heightened senses. That was, until a hand shot out from behind a load-bearing beam, gnarled nails reaching to grab at her skin. 

She jumped back, letting out a vocal-chord ripping shriek. “Jesus Christ!” 

K is for: *Kiss*

“So, Aria is not a lover of skinship?” The question was posed to Taeyong, the leader having been given the choice to choose his member’s punishment after losing the game they had been playing. 

Taeyong let out a short chuckle, seeing where the interviewer was going with their question. “No, no she’s not. Only if we initiate it - and she’ll normally kick us off pretty quickly.” 

Aria was shaking her head, making slicing motions in front of her neck to signal Taeyong to stop, no, please anything but that, stop it-

Taeyong paid no mind to her, and soon Aria was settled on a stool in the centre of the studio floor, knees tucked into her chest as Jaemin, Ten, Doyoung and Taeil - the members of her losing team - all gathered around her in a circle.

One by one, they all pressed a single kiss to her cheek, Aria cringing away from Ten’s hold when he went to press another peck to her forehead, and Doyoung coming behind her to hold her still. 

When the four boys retreated, Aria was red in the face, the blush adorning her cheeks visible despite the foundation.

L is for: “You don’t love me”

“Hyuck, I have to go.” 

“Noooo.” The boy whined from his position sprawled over the mattress, legs spread and hands clutching onto Aria’s wrist to prevent her from leaving. “Stay. M’comfy.”

Aria sighed, tugging at her wrist futilely. “Hyuck, I’m literally going to the bathroom. I’ll be five minutes - less if you let me go now.”

Donghyuck only whined louder, tightening his grip. “No!”

Tossing her head back to the ceiling, Aria yanked her hand out of his grip, plugging her ears against the screech of protest that left Donghyuck’s mouth.

“NO! Come back!”

When Aria made no motion to return, having exited through the doorway hastily, he threw himself back onto the bed. “You don’t love me anymore!” 

Her response echoed down the hallway, punctuated by the slamming of the bathroom door. “I do! You’re just a big baby and I needed to go!”

M is for: *Mine*

Aria slid beneath the reaching arm of their maknae, patting him on the side to make him edge a little to the left as she too reached for one of the cookies that were set up on the small snack table. 

The white chocolate chips were tempting her, and after staring at the still-full plate for twenty minutes, there was only so much she could do in terms of self restraint. 

Scurrying back to her original seat, she settled back in comfortably, bringing the cookie up to her mouth and nibbling at the crunchy edge of the treat.

N is for: “Neo”

“Nono?” Aria bent her neck down to peer at the boy who had entered through the door, dropped his bag, slid off his shoes and then promptly snuggled himself into Aria’s side without so much as a hello.

Jeno nodded in acknowledgement, but made no attempt to explain his curious behaviour. 

“Dude,” Aria sighed, hand already moving to run through his hair despite her long-suffering eyeroll,  “You’re not being very neo right now.”

O is for: “Ow”

Sitting beside Mark in any context was never a good idea when one wasn’t wearing sleeves or long trousers. He was a very, volatile, laugher, and once he got going it was impossible to stop.

Unfortunately for Aria, her short dress afforded her neither of the aforementioned luxuries, and so she was sure that by the end of the day she was going to be covered in black and purpling bruises from Mark’s non-malicious attacks. 

The movie on the screen flickered to a new scene, one that sent Mark into another burst of raucous laughter. His hand raised, and clapped down on Aria’s arm, again, and again, and again.

“Ow, ow, ow ow ow ow, Mark!” 

P is for: “Potato juice”

Lucas held up his glass to the camera, grinning as he said, “Apple juice!”

Taeyong bit back a smile as Jungwoo fit himself into the frame, holding his own glass and affirming Lucas’ statement. “Apple juice!” 

The camera was spun around, focusing briefly on the apostles of darkness who held up their own glasses of apple juice, before it panned down the row to where Aria was sitting, cradling a glass of clear liquid in her hands that she was taking small sips from. 

Taking notice of the camera focusing on her, she took another sip of her glass before holding it up in a cheers. “Potato juice!” She cheered, bringing it back to her lips and paying no mind to the startled cough Doyoung let out, choking on his own apple juice. 

Doyoung spun to the camera, gently pulling the glass from Aria’s grasp. “Water. It’s water.” His tone dropped a few decibels, “Did Jaehyun give you this? I’ll kill him.”

Q is for: “Quickly”

“Quickly! Hurry up!” Renjun yelled, rushing over to help Aria into the inflatable costume to begin her run.

 “Yah, Renjun! I’m not on your team stop yelling at me!” Aria retorted, pushing his fumbling hands away and pulling up the straps onto her shoulders. 

R is for: “Ruff”

The door swung open with a quiet creak, Donghyuck only hearing it when the handle made contact with the wall behind it. He spun around in his chair, eyebrow lifting at the sight of Aria partially in through the doorway. “Hey?”

“Ruff.” Aria blinked at him, unmoving.

“Uh, ruff?” Donghyuck responded in kind, his eyebrows now knitting together in confusion.

Nodding satisfactorily, Aria exited the room with a wave. “Mark! I told you I could get him to bark on live.”

S is for: “Saranghae”

 It was a group-wide agreement that in 127, the title for cutest either went to one of the maknaes, or their oldest hyung. Apparently that agreement also spread over stan-twitter, because suddenly Taeil and Aria were being pitted against each other in an aeygo-off. Fan edits and polls were made, and TaeilvsAria was trending on Twitter for nearly a week.

Eager to encourage the trend, it was all too easy for the staff to set the pair up in front of a camera and press record. 

Two minutes in, and neither member had broken, both maintaining their stoic faces - although Aria’s lip was slightly red from being bitten, having resorted to pinching the skin between her lips to prevent a smile from breaking out on her face when Taeil had tucked his hands underneath his chin and pouted.

She inhaled, thinking hard on how to end the competition swiftly, exhaling with a small smile as she settled on her next plan of attack. 

Spinning around, Aria set her gaze on Taeil, letting her eyes widen and her lips fall into a natural pout. 

“Oppa~” She wheedled, moving to clasp his hand in hers. “Saranghae~”

Taeil’s face crumpled, and he closed his eyes in defeat as he dragged Aria into his embrace. “Cheater.”

T is for: “Tough biscuits”

“But what if I don’t want to?” Yangyang argued, pointing at Aria.

“Then, tough biscuits.” Aria stuck out her tongue in retaliation, stealing the game controller from his hands and flicking the game to Minecraft. “I suck at those shooty-games, let me have this.”

U is for: “Unnie”

With her mask pulled up over her nose and lips, Aria was pretty confident that she wasn’t going to be recognized by a member of the public as she strolled down the street towards the coffee shop that had recently opened its doors a few streets over. 

She was humming happily, but jolted as she felt an arm snake itself around her waist. Immediately on high-alert, she went to push the unknown person away, before catching a glimpse of their face. 

“Unnie!” Aria’s entire demeanor changed, face breaking out into a bright smile beneath the black facemask. 

Irene smiled back at her, squeezing her waist lightly. “Hey, angel! How’re you?”

V is for: “Very untrue”

“And Aria normally naps during this time anyway, so we should be happy she’s awake for this.” Jaemin informed the few thousand czennie watching the vlive, phone tucked in between two chairs in the greenroom. 

Aria’s mouth dropped open at the obvious betrayal. “Hey! Very untrue! False information! You liar, I do not.” 

Jaemin snickered, leaning into the phone. “You can see the marks on her cheek from the arm of the chair too, right czennie?” 

The dancer leant over and thumped him on the back of his head for that.

W is for: “Wait wait wait-”

 Aria was sprinting down the hallway, phone clutched to her chest and panting. Yuta followed in quick pursuit, rapidly gaining thanks to longer legs and shoes that offered more grip than the tenuous grip offered by Aria’s slippers.

“Wait wait wait, Yuta, no I don’t want to die!” She breathed, pumping her legs faster in an attempt to flee from almost certain death. Perhaps, taking candid photos of the man while he was unconsciously snuggled up to Mark’s side as he slept was, in hindsight, not the best idea. 

Yuta was rapidly gaining on her, despite her best efforts. 

“Please don’t kill me!” 

X is for: “Xièxiè”

Accepting the glass from Kun’s hand, Aria smiled up at the man. “Xièxiè.” 

Kun, who was already moving away and back into the kitchen responded in kind, before flinging himself into another bout of conversation; but this time, with a language switch. 

Being so used to the constant flip-flopping between languages in the WAYV dorms, he thought nothing of it, but after asking a question and receiving no response, he peered back into the main living area to see Aria sitting there with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Uh, Xièxiè?”

Y is for: “Yessir”

Taeyong explained what it is Aria had to complete for her mission, handing her a small slip of paper that she was to hide from the other team before they came into the makeshift base that had been constructed a few minutes prior. 

Aria nodded, completely serious. “Yes sir.” 

He waved her away, happy that she understood the level of importance that he had just entrusted her with, and Aria happily departed from the conversation - 

By the means of vaulting a table and scrambling over a chair before exiting the door.

Taeyong blinked. And then shrugged, turning his attention elsewhere.

Z is for: *Zzzz*

Snuggled up beneath a blanket is exactly where Aria wanted to be at that very moment - not sitting in the back of a van, squished between Johnny and Yuta. The two men were broad-shoulders, and that left Aria to be batted between the two like a ping-pong ball. 

Despite the abrasions to her temple however, Aria found herself slowly drifting off - the lengthy schedules and lack of sleep finally catching up on her. 

Her head dropped to the side, first falling forward before it was gently maneuvered onto Yuta’s shoulder, where he tucked her closer and into his side. 

Letting out a pleased hum, Aria snuggled closer into his warm coat, sighing softly as she drifted to sleep.

thank you for watching ! - haechanieski

#*aria.writings #NCT #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct 24th member #nct 22nd member #nct u #nct 2020 #nct scenarios #nct reactions #nct imagines #kpop addition #kpop additions #kpop!oc #kpop #nct female member #nct female oc #nct female member au #nct additions #nct addition #nct additional member #superm

[furikakyo]

a return to roots | 5

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost

Ichiro arrived right on time at 5:45 in the morning, buzzing your door just as you had gotten dressed after a quick shower. Steam wafted out of the bathroom as you rushed to the door to greet him and show him where the luggage was. Without anything to say, he promptly picked up one of the large hard case suitcases and you followed suit, going after him into the elevator. When your bodyguard loaded both of your cases into the trunk of his car and then opened the door for you to get into the car, you quickly said, "I need to double check everything in there is fine. I'll be back in a minute."

After reassuring Ichiro that you would be ok by yourself, you dashed back inside to survey your apartment, checking each room to make sure you hadn't left anything important behind. The kitchen and living room were clean, check. When you got to your bedroom, you paused, seeing one of your acoustic guitars sitting in the corner. Should you bring it? Were you actually going to write music? When you had announced your hiatus officially, you had stated that it was to gain inspiration for new music... but then that wouldn't really be a break, would it? You gnawed on your lip, remembering what Kuroo had asked of you the night before: "Take care of yourself in Hyōgo, alright? You're there for a reason; to take a break." 

You scowled, cursing Kuroo and his knowledge of your work habits. But, a voice inside you reasoned, it wouldn't be work if you were writing just for fun... You thought back to those moments in your childhood home, in your room, writing songs and uploading them to YouTube and SoundCloud without thinking that anything would come of it; back before you felt any pressure to perform. Back to when you wrote lyrics that weren’t very sophisticated, but earnest and heartfelt all the same… back to when you had your muse to sit beside you every step of the songwriting process.

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you ran to the corner of your room and snatched the guitar, put it in its case, and then snapped it shut with finality.

If Ichiro was confused about you carrying down another piece of luggage, he said nothing, only staring ahead and driving when you were buckled. "Onigiri Miya," you reminded him, then settled into your seat. The ride there wasn't too far from your apartment; you had rented out the space because of its convenience, so anywhere you usually wanted to go to was within a reasonable distance. You watched the traffic with disinterest and spotted restaurants with dim lighting inside, most likely already prepping for the day ahead of them. The world kept moving on ahead, regardless of whether or not you liked it.

When you arrived at Onigiri Miya, Osamu was already out back in the van, probably waiting impatiently. You checked the clock in the car and clicked your tongue. You weren’t even late.

When you stepped out of the car, Osamu opened his door and got out too. You smiled widely. “Samu!” You rushed forward and gave him a strong hug, which he somewhat reciprocated. He wasn’t as big on physical touch as his brother.

Osamu only rolled his eyes though, patting your back as you told him he looked great. “You do, too. Want me to help with your bags?”

You led him to the trunk of your ride, where Ichiro was already opening it and carrying one of your suitcases. Osamu hefted the other one up, and you trailed behind with the guitar case. After securing everything in the back of the van, you turned to your bodyguard.

You smiled, a genuine smile, and then repeated what you’d already told him over text. “Well, Ichiro-san, I don’t know the next time I’ll see you. I’ll make sure to text you in advance if I plan on going to more public areas.” He said nothing, so you continued. “Thank you very much for all you’ve done for me, and I look forward to seeing you again in the future!” You gave him a bow, which he reciprocated stiffly before quickly getting back into his own car and driving off.

You sighed, then looked to Osamu. He quirked an eyebrow. “Ready?” You nodded determinedly, getting into the passenger seat of the van and buckling, him doing the same.

“Alrighty, then,” he cracked a grin. “Time for a road trip.”

After a while of scrolling through your social media accounts you sat back and stretched. Then you flopped back into your seat and looked over to Osamu. “Samu,” you whined in the most obnoxious voice possible, “do you have any food? I’m so hungry.”

Osamu rolled his eyes, jerking a thumb towards the back of the van. “Ya really think I wouldn’t bring food for the trip?”

Immediately, you turned around and began looking behind your seat for food. Sure enough, there was an insulated bag with onigiri. You gasped, bringing the bag into your lap with stars in your eyes. “You brought some?”

You ignored whatever his response was, instead unwrapping one and biting into it. “Mmm,” you moaned, chewing slowly. The nori was still crisp and the rice was fluffy yet still sticky. You closed your eyes to focus on the food. He must have made them right before you got there for them to be this fresh.

“I’m guessing you didn’t eat breakfast, then,” Osamu said, eyes staring ahead at the road.

Your grip on the rice ball tightened before you quickly realized what you were doing. Your apartment didn’t really have much left to eat after you’d finished up the gyoza last night, and even if you’d had food, you weren’t sure if you would’ve been able to keep it down. Butterflies had filled your stomach as you had tried to go to sleep, and they hadn’t really disappeared yet. “No,” you shook your head. “I woke up early in the morning and was tired.”

Osamu hummed and then didn’t say anything else. After another long beat of silence you squirmed in your seat, a little on edge. “Mind if I play some music?” He shook his head at your question and so you took over the AUX, playing some songs that had been stuck in the back of your mind lately. After the music started, any awkwardness immediately dissipated as you sang along and Osamu tapped his thumb on the wheel to the beat of whatever was playing. At one point you had even pointed out his cute habit to which he had denied before doing the same thing twenty minutes later. Giggling, you just looked out the window and didn’t comment on it that time.

After about an hour of songs, Osamu finally spoke again. “You can go back to sleep, if you want. Ya look tired.”

You looked over at him and then nodded, curling into yourself, rubbing your wearied eyes. Sleeping would be a good opportunity since you hadn’t gotten much last night. You leaned against the seatbelt and window and closed your eyes, ignoring the bumps in the road which made your head hit the glass each time. Before you knew it, you were asleep. 

After a little less than five hours, you woke up to Osamu driving, now playing the radio instead. You looked outside. Gone were the skyscrapers and bright lights; in their place were rows and rows of empty fields, all blurring past you. "Are we in Hyōgo yet?" you asked, turning back to him.

Osamu gave you a quick glance and then switched his gaze back on the road. It was just the Onigiri Miya van on the stretch, the rest of what you could see of the roadway completely devoid of another vehicle. "Yeah," he replied. "We have about an hour left. I was gonna stop at the next place to stretch, though." He looked over at you again. "Is that alright with you?"

You nodded and then dug out another rice ball from the thermal bag, munching on it as you stared out the windshield. The nori wasn’t crispy anymore but at least the filling was still yummy.  "So we're going to stop somewhere first. What's the plan after that?"

Osamu adjusted his grip on the wheel, driving with only one arm. "I was thinking that we could stop by your house, unload your luggage, maybe clean up your space since no one's been there for a while, and then go to do my business in Hyōgo." He paused, then added, "With Kita."

Your heart raced. It was your first day back and you were already going to have to face Kita. You could just stay home, a voice nagged at you. No, you thought, your face filled with grim determination. You could do it.

Almost as if sensing your internal strife, Osamu said, "Y'know, Y/N, I think Captain is just as nervous, if not, more." He continued staring ahead, not looking at you. Now he started tapping his thumb against the wheel again.

But you, your head snapped to look at him. "Really?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically.

Osmau nodded, smiling. "He's barely said a peep in the group chat he's in with me. Although now that I think about it, that's usually how he is." He chuckled. "Unless he's getting in between me and Tsumu."

You sighed, sitting back. Why had you expected Kita to hold anger towards you? Because you chose a career over him? Because you chose success over two of you, the voice in the back of your mind whispered. You ignored it, crossing your arms. You felt bad for thinking he would be anything less than how he always was in your mind (he was always Mr. Perfect), but it also made you feel better knowing he was scared too. No, not scared. Nervous, Osamu had said. Oh, god, how were the two of you going to act when you saw each other?

"Hey, Y/N." You turned to Osamu just as he pulled into the driveway of probably the only gas station within a 50 mile radius. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You'll figure it out."

As you followed him out of the van to stretch out your legs, you could only hope that you would figure it out. Preferably before you had to see Kita.

You had, in fact, not figured it all out by the time you and Osamu reached your childhood home. Instead of thinking about your lack of a solution, you resorted to reaching under the dingy welcome mat and pulled out a plastic bag with a key inside. “Still here,” you said cheerfully, showing the dirty bag off to your friend.

Osamu rolled his eyes and waited as you fumbled with the key to the house and then eventually opened the door.

You peered into the dark corridor and slipped off your shoes before stepping onto the hardwood floor. “I called the electricity and water guy,” you muttered, dragging one of the suitcases behind you. You paused and then grabbed the handle, which extended, then let the suitcase’s wheels do the work for you. “Everything should be functional by the end of the day.” When you got to the end of the foyer, you gasped. “What…?”

The inside of the house was, contrary to your belief, not at all covered in a thick layer of dust like you’d expected. Instead, it looked almost exactly the same as when you had moved out from there.

Osamu trailed behind you, taking his cap off and scratching the back of his head. “To be honest, I forgot that this was happening. Everyone here didn’t want to see your house collect dust and fall apart, so they..." He motioned around him, your eyes following.

The tatami mats in the living room and your parents' bedroom were clearly cared for, otherwise there would’ve been the overwhelming scent of dust or mold. You could imagine the diligence it would’ve taken to clean them so regularly. And the furniture— you ran a finger along the top of the kotatsu and then looked at it; nothing. You’d have to move the kotatsu into storage since it wouldn’t make much sense to have it out right now; you only used it in the winter...

You drank in the rest of the house, mentally planning where to place things and what to rearrange to your own liking. "I'll get the other case you brought," Osamu muttered, sidestepping around you to reach the doorway. You barely noticed him leave as you crept to your own childhood bedroom, sliding open the shōji screen door.

…Huh. It didn't look any different from what you last remembered. You walked inside. You had your western-styled bed, which still had the furniture sliders under the legs to protect the tatami mats; the bookshelves along the wall with your favorite books and shōjo manga... You paused at the string of fairy lights strung above your dresser. Clipped onto them were photos from high school: you and Osamu proudly holding a double-tiered cake you'd made in home economics, you and a few of the other Inarizaki boys fooling around after practice, you with your parents in front of the school in your third year. You laughed to yourself while looking at them, recalling the moments in which the pictures were taken; back when Samu's hair was grey and Tsumu didn't know what toner was, back when your only responsibilities were as Y/N the assistant manager and co-class representative of 3-A.

You stared at the end of the string lights, where there was a picture missing. You knew what was supposed to be there, in that gap. You were unsure of where it had gone though, so you searched your entire bedroom, taking out all of the books in your shelves and turning them upside down, removing all of the drawers in your dresser and peeking inside the base. You scoured your belongings for a sign of where that photo could have been, but to no avail. 

"You looking for something?" Osamu pushed off of the doorway he'd been leaning on and peered over your shoulder. "I can try to help ya find it."

You shook your head, smiling. "No, it's okay. I lost something but it's not that important." You stood up and dusted yourself off, brushing your hands together. "We have some free time now that I don't have to clean up around here. What should we do?"

Osamu nodded, thinking to himself. "Well, we could go reacquaint you with your neighbors… or we could get to the farm early. It’s,” he checked his phone, “around 3 right now so we would have a couple hours to check out the entire farm. It’s big, so having too much time on our hands wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Uh…” You bit your lip and stared expectantly at Osamu. You make the decision.

He lifted an eyebrow incredulously, then said, “Alright, farm it is.”

You dropped your phone into your lap in disappointment, tempted to just throw it out of the window of Osamu’s van. Kuroo really is kind of useless, huh, you thought, staring out of the window glumly.

The sound of the tires hitting gravel road caught your attention and you looked out the front windshield. You sucked in a breath. You were here. At Kita’s farm. Or rather, you thought, Kita’s house. You had parked in the driveway of his home which overlooked all the fields. They were still somewhat of a muddy brownish color from how far away you were.

“Ready?” Osamu tried to look grim, knowing of your inner turmoil, but his glittering eyes said otherwise.

You exhaled and then nodded. “Yes.”

The two of you didn’t end up getting very far along the fields before Osamu ran into someone he knew, probably someone else working on the rice fields under Kita based on the way he was dressed. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and, somehow, long sleeved shirts and pants. Osamu smiled, greeting the man, “Koji.”

His recipient smiled too. “Osamu. How’s business in Tokyo? Still thinking of opening another shop in Osaka?” Koji motioned for him to follow him down the path in between the rice paddies, and he did, already lost in a conversation. You watched as another group of workers came towards the duo, and you heard laughing and cheering as Osamu talked to them.

Well, damn. Osamu had left you behind. You looked around and then checked your phone. You still had basically two hours to kill. “Ugh…” Should you just wait in the van for Osamu? What if Kita saw the van pulled up and approached it, though? You did NOT want to be alone with him, just the two of you. Plus it would be hot waiting in there. You pulled at the front of your t-shirt. At least there was a slight breeze every once in a while when you were outside.

Am I really going to do this? You looked up at the sky and shielded your eyes from the sun. It was already beating down on your shoulders and back. Sighing, you started in the opposite direction of where Osamu and the workers had gone. There seemed to be a lot of property, you thought, admiring the view. Although the rice paddies were still muddy, the view you had from this side of the farmhouse was stunning. In the distance were lines of trees so dense, and mountains even further away, just a faint silhouette smoothed against the sky. You imagined what it would look like when the rice was ready to be harvested, all green and heavy with the fruits of labor. 

A few days ago you’d thought absentmindedly that life had been kind to you, Kuroo, and Kenma. But now, looking around the serene landscape and close-knit community of workers, filled with a fresh green newness brought from only the spring, you wondered: maybe the years had been kind of Kita, too. 

Behind you, you heard dull rustling, and you turned automatically. You froze, stunned. Your mouth moved and formed words before you could even comprehend what it was you were saying.

“Kita?”

a/n: ohhh my goodness i had the worst experience with a karen yesterday and i never thought i would have to deal with one for some reason…. fuck you amy and i hope i never have to see your bitchass face again 

taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen​, @duhsies, @succulentmom, @kenmaslov3r​​​, @introvertatitsfinest

some ~fun facts~ 

- ichiro the bodyguard/driver may or may not have shed a tear or two after y/n left. (i told you he was a big softie)

- he wanted to give you a hug goodbye but wasn’t sure if that would be overstepping 😔

- imagine samu loading the van with your luggage and pushing off the doorframe after previously leaning on it with his muscly arms and glorious tiddies… BEEFY SAMU SUPREMACY 🧎‍♂️

- one of osamu’s guilty pleasures is pop music 😭

- one of y/n’s fav things to do on social media is just go through atsumu’s public profiles and read the thirst comments 😭😭

#haikyuu #kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x reader #kita 🧍‍♂️ #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #haikyuu!! #inarizaki #kenma kozume #miya osamu #ojiro aran #kuroo tetsuro #suna rintaro #haikyuu x reader #farmer kita

[sketchguk]

lover to lean on; pjm

➳ pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader

➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst

➳ wc: 20k

➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other. 

➳ warnings: explicit language, pining, unrequited love 🤔, accidental voyeurism, unhealthy eating/sleeping habits, praise kink, body worship, nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjobs, penetration, fluffy sex

➳ a/n: oops, I uploaded this later than I expected because the word count really got me. anyways, this fic is inspired by the song call me by keshi x rainlord. go give it a listen! 

Wake up and smell the roses.

That would be a great philosophy for life if you didn’t have to wake up to the sound of sex at 2 in the goddamn morning. 

Perhaps it’s your fault for not checking on the thickness of the drywall prior to moving in, but it wasn’t exactly the first concern that came to mind when touring the flat. Now, it’s more of a personal problem than anything: you being bitter about not having sex while your neighbor and his girlfriend are going at it like rabbits 5 feet away from you. It’s not a very valid complaint to bring up to your landlord. He’d probably tell you to suck it up and get laid. 

And he’s right. 

Besides, it’s not so bad most days. You hardly even notice the sound of running water through the rusty pipelines every morning or the whizzing of the ancient radiator on cold nights. In fact, you welcome it. It’s become part of the rustic building’s old-school, pre-historic charm. 

That, you can get behind. 

But one thing is for sure. You’re never going to learn to appreciate the strangled garble of a morning blowjob in the steamy showers or the banging of the bedpost against the paper thin walls when you’re in desperate need of some beauty sleep, well deep in a state of REM. 

It’s anything but charming. 

The 3 inch thick divider between you and your not-so-considerate neighbor does absolutely nothing to drown out the soft moans and hard grunts. You can hear them loud and clear through the dead of night as if they’re right beside you. 

“My god,” you sigh, rolling around your bed restlessly. Your hand blindly palms at the sheets in search of the pillow that rests beside you, placing it over your face and sandwiching yourself between the cushions. If you can’t kill your neighbor, you might as well suffocate yourself first to avoid incrimination, shamefully persecuted for third degree murder. 

A frustrated groan falls from your lips, but it’s stifled against the buffer. The banging stops almost immediately. 

“Shit,” you hear from the other side. 

Did he come? Is it over? 

You pray, hold your breath, and lie still as if you’re the one caught red-handed. But you’re not a voyeur. At least not on purpose. 

It isn’t your fault for being a light sleeper because the only thing to blame is the flimsy partition your landlord dare considers a wall. If you could have it any other way, you would. This is far from ideal granted that you didn’t even ask for any of this, but it’s far too late to get a refund. 

Lately, you’ve been spending your nights muting out vulgar dirty talk, the occasional squelches, and the obscene skin slapping on skin. Over time, you’ve come to know your neighbor on a much more intimate level than you would have liked despite never seeing him around. Like the fact that he thrives off of edge play and praise kinks. Yeah, it’s probably for the best that his identity is kept a secret otherwise you wouldn’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again with the knowledge that you have stowed away in the crevasses of your brainー knowledge you would prefer to forget. You don’t even know his name, but you’re long past the point of being acquainted with one another, so it would pretty be awkward to ask for it now. All you know is that he’s stuck in his own bubble, too blinded by love and lust to even consider his poor neighbor. 

Most nights, you even make the effort to stumble through your cluttered, moonlit studio apartment in search of your cheap headphones that usually dangle precariously over the edge of your desk. You’ve made a mental note to invest in some earplugs and a more effective set of headphones too. 

Truly, you’re not the type to invade one’s privacy. You have nothing to be sorry about because you respect your neighbor, his girlfriend, and their sexy time. If anything, they should be the ones apologizing for keeping you awake for three consecutive nights. No less on a Tuesday. 

But perhaps the act is already done and you can let bygones be bygones. Maybe he’s already come, and as unfortunate as that may be for his girlfriend, the chances are he's low on stamina tonight. The vivace metronomic thuds against your shared wall would suggest he was going pretty hard at it too. Not that it’s any of your business. You’re happy that your neighbor is so in love, and that he can have sex all day, all night and fall into the comfort of his lover’s arms, unlike you. You’re not bitter. 

Not at all. 

You don’t mean to get invested in his relationship, but it’s just that tonight, he finished rather early as opposed to the hour it usually takes him to climaxー foreplay and edge play and all. You don’t keep track of the time per se. That’d be a little creepy, but it’s hard not to do so when you’re losing out on a precious hour of sleep each night. Especially when you’re stuck in your own overactive imagination, wondering how good his stroke game is and what type of lingerie he’s intoー

“Sorry!”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then the realization hits you momentarily. 

He’s talking to you. 

They must have heard you groaning through the stupid, thin walls, and therefore, you’re responsible for this very awkward exchange. 

Your grip on the pillow loosens as you lift it over your head. 

“It’s okay!” Your voice cracks with a heightened tone, “Just make sure you use protection!” The cringe settles into the pit of your stomach as soon as you respond. You squeeze your eyes shut and mentally facepalm yourself. You should have left it alone, but your cursed mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. 

The couple whispers to one another, but it’s hushed and hurried. Faint and hard to decipher. Angry, even. The wall must be really selective on what it chooses to mute out which is absolutely perfect when you actually want to know what’s happening on the other side. 

However, moments after, you can still hear the rustle of sheets and the patter of footstepsー two pairs. Even the harsh close of the door and the soft turning of the deadbolt, a resounding click that could be heard if you were to listen close enough. 

Once again, there’s a shuffle of feet that skid across the hardwoodー one pair. A few creaks echo from the aged floorboards. And then there’s a squeak from the bed slat, a heavy mass pressing on the mattress. 

You sit in silence with eyes wide open as you trap air into your lungs in fear of breathing out. Correction, in fear of your neighbor making comments on your rude interruption. If you could pretend that you’re asleep, maybe the problem will disappear into the night. 

But it doesn’t because it never works that way. 

Moonlight filters through the pane glass windows, right between the cracks of your curtain. It illuminates your face and keeps you awake longer than you need to be. You manage to let out the breath you’ve been holding when something else breaks the silence. 

You can hear it faintly. The soft hum of an unfamiliar tune before the soft outbreak of vocals. The song is bitter, but the voice is sweet.

Your neighbor has gotten into the habit of singing whether it be at dawn or dusk, yet you can never complain given his velvety voice. Sometimes it’s accompanied by the strum of an acoustic guitar or the tap of an electronic keyboard. But one thing that never changes is his love for the same old bubble gum pop music that’s rinsed and repeated on the radio. Nothing but love on the brain. Mushy lyrics that bear no meaning to you, and frankly, to anyone who’s painfully single and/or heartbroken. 

You would have expected nothing less from this man though. His taste in music is a given. Most days, you can physically feel his warmth and kindness based on the dulcet timbre of his voice. Although you’ll never care to admit it to him, it helps you fall asleep on nights when you’re drained from work. They’re comforting songs that warm your heart, especially because he’s singing such sincere lyrics about his girlfriend. 

His love for her is pure, and it’s disgustingly cute. 

No matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re happy for the lovely couple while internally cringing during their late night endeavors, you’re wondering if you’re subconsciously longing for a relationship just like theirs. 

But you’d be crazy not to dream about that kind of love story. One in which the guy cooks a meal for you at the end of every night, served alongside a hot cup of peppermint tea to help you sleep better. In which he runs a bath for you, flower petals, candles, soap suds, and the whole shebang, only to hop right in behind you. Someone to keep you company while giving you a back massage, working on the hard-to-reach knots that line your shoulder blade after a hard work day. Of course at his own volition, never having to be asked to do so. 

Perhaps you’re more invested in your neighbor’s picture perfect relationship than you thought, knowing all these little, intimate details no one else should know. But once again, the thin wall is to blame. You’re not an eavesdropper. You’re just a hopelessly hopeless romantic who needs to wake up and smell the damn roses. 

Because apparently, not every relationship is as perfect as it seems. 

“Everything okay?” You don’t know why you open your mouth, but you do, and you can’t take it back. He’s long since stopped singing, but the residual silence is louder than the gentle voice that once filled the space. 

He sighs deeply. The frustration is unmistakable, and you regret ever saying anything. 

“Yeah… Just trouble in paradise.” He chuckles dryly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to it. 

The room is quiet again. You debate with yourself, wondering if you should hash it out with him or go to fucking bed knowing that you have a 7 am shift tomorrow. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The kindness of your heart outweighs all else, but you cross your fingers and secretly hope that his answer is no just so you can finally get some shut-eye. 

“Uhm… I wouldn’t want to bother you.” His voice wavers. He sounds tired, but maybe it’s the exhaustion from navigating the rocky waters of a relationship. You’ve been there before. 

Everyone’s been there before. 

Your eyes are closed, and just when you think you can go back to bed, your mind and heart betray you. 

“I wouldn’t be bothered,” you tell him, “I’m already awake too.” 

His chest rumbles with a true chuckle this time. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” 

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m probably gonna invest in some ear plugs tomorrow,” you quip, waving it off. 

“You really don’t have to,” he deadpans. There’s a pregnant pause, and you’re left confused. He continues with a shaky breath, “I’m not sure we’ll be back together after this.” 

Now you’re even more confused. Were they not just ravaging one another moments ago? 

“Valentine's Day is coming up next Friday…” you muse. “You could still win her back, you know?” 

The radiator whirs in the background. It’s silent. 

“Do you love her?” You query, thumbing the pilled edges of your blanket. 

“That’s a loaded question.” 

Now it’s your turn to stay silent. 

“I think I do,” he starts. His voice is rough. “Love her— I mean.” He falters in uncertainty. “Sorry, I’ve never admitted it to myself before.” 

“That’s okay.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but the situation is totally out of your hands. You don’t even know the full picture, yet it somehow feels like you’re on the other side of the breakup even though you’re just sitting in the audience, watching, or rather hearing, the drama unfold. 

Your fingers interlock with one another, resting over your chest as you lie flat on your back. The heavy weight of your heart sinks lower into your stomach. Maybe love isn’t real, or maybe it’s not meant for people like you and him. Or is it just some misconstrued concept jumbled up in your brain? Some romanticized notion you’ve only ever dreamed about or seen in movies and read in fanfiction?

You gulp, pondering over how things could possibly go wrong in their seemingly perfect relationship. Well, there are millions of reasons, but maybe you’ve only ever heard the good times roll. Days when they’re frolicking in a meadow of sunshine and nights when they’re singing and dancing and laughing, head over heels in love, and everything is just peachy perfect. Maybe the bad and the dirty have yet to expose itself to you, still hidden behind an extra layer of stucco drywall and eggshell paint coatings. No matter how many times you bitch about them, the innermost part of you is still rooting for the couple you’ve had the displeasure of listening to have sex every night. But it’s always worth it, or so you think, for the sake of them being in a good place. To be undoubtedly quote unquote in love—

“Have you ever been in love?” It surprises you that he’s the one asking instead of the other way around. 

You stare blankly at the ceiling with a racing heart. Biting your lip, you speculate whether or not you should reveal such intimate details about your life to a total stranger.

“Nope,” you shake your head. He can’t see you, but you hope that your response is convincing enough. 

“Would you want to?” 

You can’t help but scoff. “Yeah, what kind of question is that?” 

“You’re right, it was stupid.” He chuckles. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you warn him, “You don’t have to.” 

“Sorr—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’ll personally come over and flick you on the forehead,” you say, reprimanding him. 

His laughter is even sweeter than his voice. “Harsh. But nice? I guess?”

That’s the perfect description for someone who works in the service industry, which unfortunately, you do. 

“It’s for your own good,” you suggest, nodding your head in self indulgent pleasure. Kind of like how avoiding love is for your own good.

The silence quickly settles in, as does the existential dread. Your eyes shift around to the empty apartment before you, and you soon realize that you’re painfully alone.

The radiator goes off again and the clock ticks perpetually. The moment escapes you. 

His voice fills up the room. “Can I ask how you’re doing?” 

The corner of your lips curl up in a fond smile. You exhale a deep sigh, one of contemplation. “I’m okay… Just... learning how to deal with unrequited love.” 

“Harsh,” he echoes back.

“Yeah.” You curl up on your side, sighing and reaching for a pillow to spoon. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

You gnaw on your lip. It’s a bad habit to have. “There’s not much to talk about. It’s just some guy who always walks in at work. We make small talk, flirt a little bit, and then he leaves until the next day.” A highlight reel flashes before you, and you tug on your blanket, nuzzling into the warm fabric that offers you some semblance of comfort against the outside world as you dig your nose into the soft linen. 

“How do you know he doesn’t like you?” 

You shrug to yourself. “It’s just a feeling.”

You think the conversation is over at this point. Moments go by until your ears perk up at the faint sound of his voice. “You should ask him out.”

Your neighbor surely seems to enjoy making a fool out of you. It’s a nice thought to have though. To think that you have the confidence to ask a guy out. The guy you’re crushing on, no less. 

You satiate your neighbor anyways just to entertain the idea a little longer and give him a little push towards his own love story. “Only if you make amends with your girlfriend though.” 

“Girlfriend? Oh— no, she’s not my girlfriend,” he says in defense. 

You’re perplexed. “Wh-? She’s not?”

“No... uh, just friends with benefits,” he confesses with a cough. 

Flashbacks start to go off in your head as you try to connect the dots like some mathematical formula. Is love actually an illusion? Maybe love knows no labels, but a small part of you still wants to believe that they’re wholeheartedly in love and on the verge of marriage or something. But that delusion instantaneously bursts into dust and ashes, confirmed by none other. 

“Hey, I’m kind of tired, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I’ll make it right with her so long you talk to the guy.” He lets out a huff. “Don’t let him miss out on a good thing because of the what ifs.” 

Comfort washes over you at the sound of his advice. In a way, he’s right. Maybe it’s time that you put yourself out there in spite of the possibilities. Even if it’s utterly terrifying. 

“Goodnight,” you mumble back, wrapping your arms securely around the pillow. 

He hears you loud and clear, “Goodnight. Thanks for the talk.” 

He knocks out soon after that, but it’s hard for you to sleep when you’ve got nothing but love on the brain. 

Waking up is hell, especially when you’re running on nothing but 0 hours of sleep and a single cup of black coffee. The only thing that makes the fatigue worth it is the peaceful lull at sunrise and the absence of your noisy neighbor’s daily blowjob. It’s as if some higher power read your mind and decided that you’re worth the divine intervention just for that one fleeting moment of jubilation. 

But just like the law of gravity, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and your contract with the universe calls for some cosmic karma. It’s like you’re being punished because you can never seem to catch a break. 

Work is unusually hectic, but with Valentine’s Day around the corner, it’s expected. If Black Friday is the worst nightmare for every retail worker, one can imagine a florist’s week leading up to Single’s Awareness Day, or much less commonly referred to as “A Shallow, Capitalistic Attempt to Buy Affection Day.” 

Despite owning a flower shop, you still stand firmly against Valentine’s Day and all that it represents. Maybe you’re spiteful because you’re pitifully single and surrounded by lovey dovey mush at every single corner. But as of right now, it has more to do with the extra workload that lies at your feet. 

Not only do you have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to open shop and prepare for the deliveries, but you also have to cut and process flowers, organize dozens of overnight orders, and arrange bouquets for the day’s purchases, all before 9am. The to-do list is endless, and not to mention, the number of calls you’ve picked up in the last hour alone has already backed you up on a number of orders. It’s stressful and incredibly time consuming to say the least. 

By 10am, you’re ready to call it quits, but you constantly remind yourself that this job is your only source of income, and therefore, you have to barrel through with a bright and shining customer service smile on your face. 

At this point, you really wish you did smother yourself with your pillow last night. 

But the only thing that keeps your sanity in tact after the morning rush is the chance to make arrangements for the front display. It’s therapeutic to pick and choose foliage, sprucing them into beautiful pieces of art for passersby to enjoy. You’re grateful for the scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath which is remedial to your burgeoning headache. Even the sight of your favorite carnation is enough to ease the pounding pain against your skull. 

However, making arrangements isn’t all sunshine and flowers despite popular belief. The worst part about it is the heavy lifting. It’s labor intensive to pick up large plants like the full sized leatherleaf fern in the back room, which is now carefully lodged into a concoction of gardening soil, compost, mulch, and active charcoal. But if nobody else is going to do it, you’re going to have to do it alone. 

Lifting the hefty plant isn’t difficult to begin with, but it progressively becomes taxing when you have to carry it to the front of the store. As you emerge from the back door, the bell of the entrance chimes, signifying a customer’s presence.  

You can hear him before you can even see him. 

“Good morning!”

You nearly jolt at the sound of his chipper voice. Of course Jimin had to walk in at the peak moment of you struggling, looking like a disheveled mess with soil accumulated in your hair like a burrowed nest. You just hope and pray that it’s not smeared across your forehead like Simba.

Out of pure embarrassment, you hold the pot higher to hide your burning cheeks behind the plant despite your arms giving out. Would all of your problems disappear if you act like you’re not there? Once again, of course not, because he spots you in an instant, and you’re just not fated to have the good things in life. 

He calls out your name before stopping to place his things down at the table and rushing over to you, “Here, let me help you with that.” 

You have an ironclad grip on that ceramic pot, holding on to it as if it’s life or death. “No, it’s okay, I got it,” you say out of pure, frantic determination. 

“Don’t be silly, let me.” He reaches for the bottom of the earthenware. His hand grazes over yours before you can pull away, shifting the responsibility onto him. 

You offer him a grateful smile that extends your eyes, and he sends one back your way. 

“Where do you want it?” He asks. You can’t even get a word in before he turns on his heels and makes space for you through the narrow aisle. 

Leading the way, you show him the spot you’ve marked for the fern to hopefully reside for the next 24 hours. “Here’s good,” you tell him, pointing to the empty tile. 

Jimin bends down and gently places the plant into its new home. Then he reaches into his messenger bag, pulling out a packet of tissues before gravitating towards the spray bottle.

“I’m a big girl, you know? I could do it myself,” you whine with a slight pout. 

He grips on your right shoulder, and you’re locked in place. “I know, but I want to help,” he says with the utmost care, “And you can ask me for help whenever you need it, you know?” Jimin smiles at you, and his eyes lower into crescent moon shapes, the corners slightly creasing. Before you know it, there’s a cool sensation on your forehead. The tissue in his hand is thoroughly saturated and now damp against your skin. You recoil on contact and reach for Jimin’s wrist, ready to yell at him for the lack of warning. 

“Hey!”

“Stay still, you have soil on you,” he alerts with sharp eyes. 

You let go of his wrist and give in to his kind gesture, murmuring out a “fine”. 

While he concentrates on cleaning you up, you can’t help but look up and lock your eyes on his. You swear you could spontaneously combust and astral project from the intensity of his stare. His close proximity makes you heat up, so you’re forced to avert your eyes elsewhere out of pure intimidation. Your line of sight meets his lips, and you’re stuck in place, staring at them. They’re so pink and plush, and his tongue even pokes out a little like a sleepy kitten with slack jaw. Most of all, they’re right there in front of you, and if you could just lean in a little more, you’d be this closeー

“All clean!” He says with cheer, tapping your shoulder.

He turns around in search of the dustbin, and you shake yourself out of your own daydream before he can catch sight of you. 

You laugh it off and offer him a toothy smile, “If you really want to help, you could have gotten me a cup of coffee.”

“You’re making demands now, huh?” He asks.

“It’s more like a suggestion than anything,” you teasingly yell from the back room, grabbing the remaining flowers for the display. Meanwhile, Jimin lingers behind in the main room, admiring the freshly cut flowers laid out on the counter ready to be made into floral arrangements.

You manage to recompose yourself from that one moment of weakness by taking a glance over at the cute doodles of artwork that line your office wall. They’re little bits of happiness that keep you calm and remind you that there’s light in your life, and he’s standing in the other room waiting for you to pop a very important question. 

Upon grabbing the necessary items, you make your way back into the store. You stop immediately in your tracks, nearly colliding into a solid figure at the sharp turn of the doorway. Your heart almost stops, but you shudder away before you could tip yourself over. 

Jimin stands in front of you with his hand extended out, clenching onto a steaming, white paper cup. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of me and coffee now,” he laughs, reaching out once again, “Only one of us bites.” 

“That’s for me?” You ask incredulously. 

He nods his head, “Yeah, of course, silly.” 

You take the drink from his hands, and before you can thank him, he chimes in. “It’s just how you like it. Black and full of caffeine.” 

You press your lips up against the cup, taking a sip and humming in satisfaction at the drops of heaven. “Thanks, but why? And how’d you know my coffee order? Don’t get me wrong, this is really nice, but…” 

“I saw how dead you looked yesterday,” he justifies cutting you off before you can ramble on. Honest, but harsh. 

You put the cup back on the counter and continue with your task at hand, and he trails behind you. 

“Thanks, that’s what every girl wants to hear,” you banter with all the sarcasm you can muster, pulling at the flower stems despite them already being placed exactly where you want them. 

“Girls like it when guys pay attention to the little details, don’t they?” He asks with a gleam in his irises. 

You look up at him briefly before averting his eyes and wiping clean the leaves on a near fiddle leaf tree, spraying food soil at its roots. 

“Love it,” you gulp wryly. 

Jimin takes note of how seemingly busy you are, so he walks around the shop, examining the new inventory of flowers. After making your round through the store, watering all the plants that need to be watered, you return to the disembodied zinnia on the counter, waiting to be arranged. 

The silence is refreshing until it isn’t. 

“Is the coffee good?” He queries. 

“Huh?” You stop what you’re doing to casually glance his way. His back is turned to you, but he seems overly invested in the rose display. 

“The coffee,” he repeats, back still turned.  

You look at the untouched cup at the edge of the table and smile to yourself. You didn’t notice it before, but there’s a red doodle that contrasts against the white paper cup, no doubt customized by Jimin himself. It’s hard to pick out what it is exactly, but you’d recognize the flowers of God any day. The ruffled petals and thin, straight stem are simply unmistakable. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s good,” you answer politely. 

“What’s your favorite kind of flower?” He asks curiously as if he’s playing a game of 21 questions. It’s a question you’ve answered numerous times before, but facts like these can easily slip through someone’s mind. 

“Easy, carnations,” you respond without any hesitation, pointing at the display in the right corner of the store when he turns around to look at you. He makes his way to the stand, eyeing the flowers. 

“They’re pretty,” he comments, pulling out one of the bouquets to examine as if he didn’t already know. 

You hum, and maybe the exhaustion is evident in your voice and your oddly scarce exchange of pleasantries. 

Jimin carries on with the small talk anyways. “You’ve been sleeping okay?” 

You snip away at the hard, green stems, tossing them into the trash beside you. Shrugging, you mindlessly answer. “Yeah, as much as a florist can during Valentine’s week.” You snicker with good spirit. 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest well,” he scolds you all in good faith, eyes now scanning the small assortment of cards. You hum in affirmation. 

If anything, he should be telling that to your noisy neighbor who refuses to let you get a wink of sleep. 

A creak rings through the air as Jimin rotates the card stand, thumbing through the variety. “Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day by the way?” 

You can feel your hands clam up as they stop fiddling with the lemon leaves. Your heartbeat picks up, and you’re left winded by the question. You hide behind the hesitation, nervous as to where this may lead. How could you possibly play it cool when your crush asks you whether or not you’re busy on arguably the most romantic holiday of the year? 

Play it cool because remember, you loathe Valentine’s Day. 

Your hands fumble as you pick up the lemon leaves again, snipping at the branches nonchalantly. “Uh, no, not really, you?” you gulp. Your eyes are distracted, too fixed on the greenery. 

But you look up the moment Jimin approaches the counter with flowers in one hand and a card in another. 

“Oh, who are these for?” you feign innocence in your voice as you reach for the brown kraft paper and the roll of red ribbon. 

Jimin scratches the back of his neck, hesitating. “My girlfriend,” he mumbles, but it’s loud and clear, audible enough for you to apprehend like an echo in you ear.

“I don’t have much planned yet, but we’re probably going to grab dinner on Friday,” he shrugs with hands burrowed in his pockets. He shifts his weight on the balls of his feet, eyes focused on the gray specks of the ceramic tiles beneath him. “Something casual. I’m not really huge on the whole Valentine’s Day thing.” 

It seems like every man in your life paints you like a giant fool destined for humiliation. Of course the hopelessly hopeless romantic within you deluded yourself into believing that some Prince Charming would visit your flower shop in anticipation of seeing you. Of course the flowers that he buys everyday has to go somewhere, you just never expected that each and every morning at the crack of dawn, the flowers you carefully hand-pick and wrap with unconditional love would be sent off to his girlfriend. 

Of course you’re a huge idiot who isn’t destined for love. 

It almost hurts to plaster the tight lipped smile on your face when your heart is prickled with thorns like the roses in your hands. 

You lick your lips and painfully gulp the spit down your dry throat before you open your mouth again.

“Jimin?” 

“Yeah?” 

You pause. “You can’t give these to your girlfriend” 

His eyebrows furrow and his hands run through his hair. “What do you mean?”

“They’re white roses.” 

“So? She likes white flowers.” He doesn’t seem to get the point. 

You almost chuckle in his face, and you would have if your heart didn’t hurt so damn much. So you refrain. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that white flowers are meant for funerals?” 

His cheeks are dusted with a pink blush. He shakes his head no. “Uh, what do you suggest I give her then?” 

You sigh, looking at the hopeless man in front of you. “Do you love her?” Not even a second goes by before you ramble, not very eager to hear the answer. “You could uh- give her that fern you helped me carry earlier.” You walk back to the front display, keeping a safe distance to hide your woe, extending your arms out like a game show host revealing what’s hidden behind door #1. (Hint: it’s your heart). 

“Call it your love fern?” you shrug, laughing it off. 

“I think a bouquet is fine.” Jimin staggers behind you, checking out the other flower displays, opting for door #2. “How about the carnations you mentioned?” He pulls out a bouquet of variegated carnations painted with pink and red tips. “These are nice, don’t you think?” He looks at you curiously with doe eyes in await of your approval. 

Your mouth opens to interject, ready to digress into another lesson on the history of variegated carnations, but you bite your tongue back. 

Jimin spots your reluctance, but quickly puts it to rest. “Look, I don’t think she really cares about the meaning behind the flowers. You said these are your favorite, and you’re the expert right?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice. “Mhmm.” Even your hum cracks. “But uh, maybe the deep red ones would be more appropriate?” You cock your head to the side and quirk your eyebrow. 

“It’s fine, I swear” he reassures you, placing the bouquet on the counter before putting the white roses back in its stand. 

Your feet refuse to move as if they’re cemented to the ground, but Jimin stands there in front of you with rosy eyes, awaiting for you to wrap up the object of his affection in a pretty red bow. So how could you refuse?

You walk past the carnation display on the way to the counter, and pick up another bouquet. Pink and red variegated. “Here, these are a little more fresh. The buds are tighter, so in a few days, you’ll see them nice and big.” You smile, closed lipped. “Just in time for Valentine’s Day.” 

Jimin’s jaw loosens and his lips part. He knits his brow in a frown. “Uh, these aren’t actually meant for Valentine’s Day,” he says, running his hand through his perfectly imperfect raven hair. “She’s kind of mad at me right now,” he gives a mirthless chuckle while playing with his hands, “so I’m hoping I can make it up to her with this.” 

Ah, your favorite flowers are reduced to nothing but a gift of pity.

“She’d be crazy not to accept your apology,” you say in a soft voice, gritting your teeth behind your tense jaw, eyes fixated on the little nursling in your hold. With a soft hand, you unravel the kraft paper and delicately wrap it around the bouquet. The very one you picked up this morning and arranged the hour prior, wondering if you’ll be able to send it off to a loving home. 

Now you know for a fact that it’ll be in good hands. 

“Do you think she’d like it?” Jimin chirps in. 

It feels like your heart is on the threshold of bleeding out as he sends another prickle to the soft organ. Your concentration doesn’t even falter as you snip the ribbon. 

“I know she will.”

You tie the fabric into the prettiest bow you can muster and slide the gift of love across the glass counter. Jimin looks down at the beautifully wrapped flowers with an ear to ear smile on his face. “Thank you so much for the help, I really appreciate it.” 

“Just doing my job,” you remind him with a counterfeit smile, scanning the barcode at the back of the card. It’s a really cute card too. Sometimes I wonder how you put up with me then I remember I put up with you. So we’re even ❤️ 

You hate yourself for the fond smile you almost crack, masked behind the pained one you send his way. 

Jimin passes you a $20 bill and grabs his merchandise from the table. 

“She’s really lucky to have you,” you lament honestly with glistening eyes as he walks out the front door. 

He doesn’t catch a word you say, but he manages to shout back a “thank you!” and a “see you tomorrow!” before speeding out, setting off the bell at the top of the door without ever looking back at your dejected figured. 

You’re left alone to finish the rest of the work day, surrounded by none other than the sickly, sweet scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath, all while taking in the putrid sight of variegated carnations. 

They say that you are your worst enemy, and they are 110% correct on the matter. You don’t know why you would think that you’d have a good day on the basis of your neighbor having a crummy one. It’s not like there’s some kind of transfer of energy. It’s been proven to you time and time again that divine intervention and karmic justice just aren’t real, and apparently, neither is science. Otherwise, by that logic, you’d have a superb day. 

You would have slept through last night and woken up to a pretty pink sunrise painted across the sky— nothing but peace. To the chirping of birds in the distance and to the passing of cars on an empty street. You would have had enough time to prepare a proper breakfast— pancakes, eggs, bacon, and maybe even a nice cup of hot chocolate. Not a measly cup of black coffee to keep you awake for the rest of the busy day. You would have had a nice chat with Jimin at the flower shop about the capitalistic corruption of Valentine’s Day while he’d try to convince you otherwise. He’d prove you wrong, and you would have walked home with a blooming garden in your heart. 

But science is bullshit and the transfer of energy is a complete lie— photosynthesis being the only exception. The only thing you got out of today was a huge migraine and a withering blossom in your chest. 

So just when you think that the day could not get any worse, it absolutely does. 

You can probably blame the poor mindset you boxed yourself in— having a cynical outlook on love and life because of the dreaded upcoming holiday. Maybe it was because your crush just stomped all over your garden and plucked the flowers to give to some other girl. Or, you can put the blame on past you, the big freaking idiot who previously stripped off her bed sheets at 6:30 in the morning in hopes of being productive by doing weeks of piled up laundry. At this point, all you want to do is curl up in a warm bed, too exhausted by the trials and tribulations of life, but you can’t even give yourself the satisfaction of that because you thought you were some kind of changed woman who could manage her stupid laundry.

Newsflash, you’re not. 

The naked mattress in the corner of your apartment mocks you, so grudgingly, you take your laundry basket down to the laundry room for your most hated chore. With heavy steps, you trudge through the cold, cement basement. It’s dark and dingy down there. A little scary too, given the flickering lightbulb at the end of the hallway. Nevertheless, you march through the doors and into the rumbling alcove. 

What you find in there is startling, yet you can’t say that you’re surprised seeing that this occurrence is far from rare. You almost consider walking back upstairs and knocking on your floormate’s door, asking him if he’d be willing to do your laundry in exchange for $5 just so you don’t have to sit there, listening to some couple make out in the back corner.

Apparently, everyone in the world is foolishly in love except for you. 

You crank up the volume a little louder so your cheap headphones can drown out the sound of them locking lips with one another, but the poor quality does absolutely nothing for your abused ears. The boisterous public display of affection is deafening over the sound of your “Wallowing in Self Pity” playlist. 

You’re only capable of catching a brief glance in their direction before gagging and veering off. She’s sitting atop of the washing machine as he stands between her parted legs. They’re so lost in their own world that they don’t even notice your presence. 

Out of respect for yourself and the horny couple, you choose to occupy a washing machine at the opposite corner of the laundry room. But perhaps you can save yourself the irritation as well as the $5 in your wallet because you can hear their hushed whispers. They’ve separated themselves long enough for the guy to convince her to move to a more private location. Although she still leeches herself onto his neck, he’s attentive enough to know that they aren’t alone. He picks her up and drags her out of the laundry room with her legs wrapped around his waist, unwilling to part from him as if holding his hand simply isn’t enough. 

You roll your eyes, thankful for the quietude and the money you’ve saved yourself, but as you sit alone in the drafty basement, doing the chore you hate the most, you can’t help but think how much better it would be to do it with someone else at your side. 

Somehow you’re convinced that crossing paths with Jeongguk in the hallway is fated after thinking about him moments prior. Because it’s very uncommon for that boy to leave his apartment, cooping up all day long with his video games, only to catch a breath of fresh air for his nightly gym sessions. When you see him locking up his apartment door, you offer him $5 anyways just out of the kindness of your heart. He could probably use the money more than you anyways. 

Although you didn’t have any intention of doing a good deed today, karma still finds a way to punish you. As always, it’s bullshit. 

Upon entering your empty apartment, the space is already filled with the sonorous sounds of orchestral music. Violins, violas, cellos, flutes, oboes, and harps all performing in perfect harmony. It’s played through the walls, coming from none other than the speakers of your beloved neighbor. You wouldn’t mind the soothing classical melodies to cure your migraine so long it’s accompanied by white noise. But your neighbor’s laughter rings above the music as you can hear him count “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3” in a triple metre. 

You know that he’s not alone because there’s also another voice laughing alongside him. The same one you’ve grown accustomed to over the months. Her high pitched squeals are unmistakable as they greatly resemble other sounds you’ve heard come from her mouth on many unfortunate nights. So you can safely assume that your neighbor and his not-girlfriend made up with one another already—

“Look at me, not at your feet!” 

“I don’t know where to put them!” 

“You’re stepping on my toes!”

“Sorry!” 

“Oh yeah, you’ll be sorry!” 

It’s hard to picture what’s happening behind the wall when you don’t have faces to match with the voices. But you don’t really need it when their bed slat creaks beneath their weight and their headboard slams against your shared wall. Not when her yelps erupt as a result of the tickle fest they’re currently immersed in. The sounds are vivid enough for you to know much more than you need to know. It almost feels like you’re intruding on an intimate moment that’s not meant for your eyes, let alone your ears. 

Meanwhile, as you struggle to tuck the fitted sheets beneath the four corners of your mattress, you wonder whether it’s worth it to leave the apartment again after such a hard day. Of course for the sole purpose of avoiding a home made porn video being filmed in the process. 

Maybe it’s not too late, and you can still catch up to Jeongguk. You could head to the gym and snatch back the $5 you generously handed him because the more you think about it, the more you believe that someone owes you for your miserable time spent in this apartment complex. But you can’t take your anger out on the poor boy from down the hall when he doesn’t deserve it. 

The sanctuary of your bed calls your name like a siren, so instead, you do what you’re forced to always do— plug in your cheap headphones, blare out some music, and move on with your day. 

And it works for the most part. 

You’re able to successfully put on your bed sheets after struggling to play a big game of tug of war with your mattress. Despite the internal push and pull, you also will yourself to do adult things like tidying up the studio, making the space somewhat habitable for humans. By 9pm, you can finally sit down and enjoy a nice, hot meal. However, you’re forced to keep your headphones on because your neighbor’s not-girlfriend decided that she couldn’t go a single day without her not-boyfriend’s dick in her mouth. 

You swear you’re going to ask him tonight why he hasn’t made it official because it’s clear as day that they’re in love with one another. You know that you definitely would be if someone offered you oral every single day. Unfortunately, nobody’s offering. Thus, you’re forced to live vicariously. 

So as midnight approaches, and the moon reaches its apex, you settle into bed with a book in hand, ready to suffer through the night. It’s difficult to concentrate on the text when your music is blasting, but you suppose it’s better to listen to lo-fi hip hop beats as opposed to the scream of “daddy” over and over and over… 

Although you applaud her for her shamelessness, you would still prefer if she could keep to herself.

Thankfully, these moments are only temporary. 

With your eyes squeezed shut, you let out a lethargic yawn. Looking over at your nightstand, you spot your ticking alarm clock. It’s nearing 1 in the morning, and you decide that you’re exhausted. Well, you’ve decided that long ago, but going to bed before midnight is admitting defeat against your own body. Nevertheless, no matter how tired you are, you know in the back of your mind that there’s no way you could have dozed off with your neighbors going on a Netflix binge with speakers fully blaring audio from The Office. It’s as if they don’t know what headphones are. 

But after “one more episode” and a disgustingly long makeout session, you can hear the shuffle of feet across the floor boards and the turning of the lock. 

It’s nearly 2 am, and the radiator hisses. It’s quiet. 

But then that’s when you hear it like clockwork. The delicate hum before the pleasant tune. Tonight, it’s not a song you’re familiar with. Something about the universe moving and happiness that’s meant to be. Mentions of penicillium and a calico cat? There’s lots of talk about letting someone love you, and that’s when it really hits you in the gut. You’re not so sure about the song, but as always, it sounds pretty. It’s not typical to call a guy’s voice beautiful, but it is what it is. It’s serene, and it’s the promise of tomorrow. It’s something you wish that would never stop. 

But of course all good things come to an end. 

There’s a purposeful knock against the wall which startles you. “Hey, I know you’re up. How’d your day go?” Your neighbor asks, breaking the silence and dragging your attention towards his voice once again. 

You tug your headphones off and walk to the other side of the apartment to lay your book down on the desk, gracefully avoiding anything in your wake because your apartment is finally clean.

“You know, sometimes I wish you would catch me on my good days so I wouldn’t have to tell you such sad stories.” A wary smile surfaces your lips. 

“Why, what happened today?” He asks with concern laced in every syllable. “Did you take my advice?” 

You climb back into bed, pulling your covers over your torso. Sometimes you feel bad about how many silent complaints you have about your neighbor when he’s actually a really nice guy. He just lacks the proper etiquette knowing that the walls are paper thin.

“IIIIIII tried to.” You drag out the vowel, hesitant to recall the embarrassing story. 

“Yeah, and how’d it go?” 

“He doesn’t like me back,” you say plainly after a moment’s reflection. 

Your neighbor scoffs. “He’s an idiot then.” 

You try to fight back the smile because as untrue as it is, Jimin is anything but an idiot. But it’s comforting to know that someone has your back, defending you in all your honor. 

This time, you genuinely chuckle. “It’s not that.... He uh, actually has a girlfriend.” It hurts to admit it out loud. “And I’m sure she’s lovely if he likes her that much.” 

“Like I said, he’s an idiot for losing out on the best thing in his life.” 

It’s impossible for you to fight back this bashful smile because it makes your heart flutter. This may be the first time you’ve felt good about yourself this whole day. 

“Thanks, but I don’t know about that though—” 

He interrupts you, “Come on, don’t say that. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.” 

You shake your head in disbelief, “You’ve never even met me, and you don’t even know what I look like.” You roll your eyes, but a chuckle unintentionally falls from your lips. 

“It’s not about what’s on the outside, okay? I already know you’re beautiful because that’s what you are on the inside.” 

“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” You flip over on your bed and dig your face into the pillow, flustered by his kind words. There’s absolutely no way people this nice exist in this world. “I could be a troll or a vampire or something for all you know.” 

“Vampires are kinda hot. Haven’t you seen Twilight?” He banters. “And I’m sure this guy isn’t even all that great. Like, tell me something you hate about him.” 

Your hands cover your mouth, stifling a laugh. “I’m not gonna hate on him because he doesn’t like me back. It’s just the reality of it. Besides, he’s perfect.” You roll your eyes, annoyed by how flawless Jimin is in your eyes. 

Your neighbor prods at you. “I reaaallly doubt that. There has to be something. Not even a pet peeve? Maybe he’s chronically late to everything? Sings out loud in a quiet place? Has a super annoying laugh?” 

“Yes, yes, and no.” You flip your pillow over to the cold side and settle in to lie in a more comfortable position, slipping your hand beneath the cushion. “I can excuse the lateness,” you lick your chapped lips. “He also sings like an angel, and his laugh is really endearing. He does this thing where he laughs with his whole body, and he falls over every time. I like it because I know he’s at his happiest then,” you remember zealously.

“Damn, I guess I’m just projecting my own flaws now, huh?” You can hear him snort from laughter, rolling his neck and cracking the joints in his body, and then the click of his knuckles, 10 of them, one after another. 

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose, “Don’t do that. He does it too, and I guess that’s the only thing he does that really gets to me.” 

Your neighbor cracks another joint somewhere on his body just to annoy you, and you cringe. “See, now we’re talking.” 

“I was gonna tell you that you sing well too and that I like your laugh, but maybe I’ll have to reconsider,” you taunt. “But still, you shouldn’t put yourself down for the things that show off your happiness.” 

The bed creaks from the other side. He must have switched positions for that to happen. “Thanks,” he offers. His voice is muffled, face most likely pressed up against his own pillow. “How about you tell me about the things you like about him?” 

“What? Are you trying to wound me?” You ask, slightly hurt. 

He scoffs, “No, I’m trying to prove a point here. So, tell me.” He implores like this is some kind of couple’s therapy session. Apparently, without your other half. 

As moonlight filters through your curtains and the cars whiz by on the empty street below you, you consider all the things you love and appreciate about Jimin. 

“I love how selfless he is. He’s caring and attentive... He’ll know when I’m tired and he’ll offer me coffee. He also scolds me for sleeping late and he lifts my burdens for me, even when I don’t ask him to.” You close your eyes in retrospect of Jimin and all the good things in life that he embodies. “It’s not even the things that he does for me that make me like him.” 

Your neighbor hums, letting you continue. 

“I guess it’s the principle that’s important.” You play with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, pulling on the edges to give yourself some comfort. “There are people in this world who aren’t… the nicest? I guess. And… he’s one of the purest people I know. It’s like he goes the extra mile to make sure I’m happy… and healthy.” You take a deep sigh before your mind wanders to the darker parts of your brain. “But I also know he treats everyone else like that too. Because he’s that nice. So... I guess I should have seen it coming that I wasn’t so special anyways,” you recall with tears welling up in the brim of your eyes and a knot tightening in your throat. 

“Don’t say that, you’re one of a kind,” he assures you sternly, “What’s his name? I’ll go beat him up right now.” 

You give a bitter laugh, wiping away at your eyes with the back of your hands. 

“My point is that there are other guys out there who are just as caring. And they should make you feel special because you are, and it’s what you deserve. So if the next guy who comes along doesn’t treat you that way, I will beat his ass, okay?” He says in the most nonthreatening voice ever.

You chortle, “Okay, yeah, sure.” You’re not totally convinced of that. 

“You’re probably right, I don’t want to fight and embarrass myself after promising you that,” he giggles. 

“I appreciate the sentiment though.” Earnestly, you do. You don’t know many guys who are this nice, Jimin being the exception. “How ‘bout you though? It sounds like you made up with your not-girlfriend? I hope that wasn’t you in the laundry room earlier,” you tease, deflecting the attention away from you with a raised voice. 

He gladly takes the bait. “Oh shit, that was you? I’m so sorry.” He rolls around the bed in a fit of sweet laughter, and the slat creaks. “And yeah, we did,” he breathes out with a shallow huff after regaining composure. He sounds nonchalant about it. 

“You don’t sound very happy?” 

“No, I am,” he deadpans. 

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Can you tell me what it is that you like about her?” You ask. 

He doesn’t answer immediately like you’d expect, but he’s dwelling on the answer. 

“I love how kind hearted she is,” he thinks out loud. “She’s a natural nurturer.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice, and you can’t help but reciprocate because of how pure that is. 

“Like... she’s always so bright, and…” he stops. “I just don’t know how to explain it. You’d have to meet her to know what I mean.” 

“Yeah you should invite me over so I can meet her.” You both chuckle knowing that you should meet one another before meeting his fuck buddy. 

“I think you’d like her actually. She has this beautiful soul… I- I don’t even know. She just sees the best in everyone. I know that she probably has her own struggles, but I don’t think she’ll ever let anyone know about them,” he mulls over, going on a tangent. 

“Why’s that?” You curl up on your side, hugging your pillow like you do during every conversation with him. It’s as if he’s recalling a bedtime story for you. You let out another yawn, and although you’re on the verge of falling asleep, you stay up a little longer just to hear him talk. 

“I’m not so sure why… I guess I love her and hate her for this...” He reflects. 

You hum, acknowledging him while urging him to continue his train of thought. 

“I don’t know... but she’s the type to suffer in silence for the sake of seeing other people around her smile. And… I don’t think she’ll ever admit when she’s hurt or when she needs help. She puts others before herself. Like, she’s so hellbent on putting on a happy face so that others can be happy too.” 

You nod to yourself, understanding what he means with every word. 

“And It’s not like she fakes her happiness or anything,” he continues as if clarification is needed. “She’s just… such a joy to be around. She makes everyone feel welcomed… and comfortable… And when she’s really happy, like genuinely happy, it feels like everything is right in the world.” 

You can tell he has a big, doting smile on his face. One simply cannot talk about a love like this and not smile. 

“I only wish that she’d be vulnerable with me so I can make her world a little brighter too.” 

“That’s really sweet, and also, I lowkey feel attacked right now,” you let out a dry chuckle. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “But I think that’s why you two would get along well.” 

“Set up a date, and I’ll come over,” you joke with raised brows. 

“Hmm… I’ll have to think about it,” he teases. “Oh, but uhm... if we’re still on the conversation of what I like about her, physically, I love her smile. I swear to God I stopped in my tracks the first time I saw her… and it still happens every time.” 

“That’s cute,” you smile fondly. 

“When she looks at me, I think the whole world stops for a second because I can actually feel myself get vertigo,” he giggles innocently. “And she’s also got this super adorable snort-laugh that never fails to bring out the best in me. God, it’s beyond cute, you don’t even know.” 

“It sounds like you’re in love,” you suggest, curling up tighter into a ball, squeezing at your pillow. “I don’t see why you haven’t made it official yet.” 

The pause is filled by the whirring of the radiator and the ticking of the clock. 

“Yeah… I don’t know either.” 

Waking up, you find out that going to bed with a broken heart is a little easier than going to bed with a hopeful one. Perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion that puts you to rest, but it doesn’t mean you’re any less fatigued. All your efforts are put into your work, and in a way, tending to flowers has served as a distraction from the wilting ones that reside in your chest. 

When in reality, you should find a way to revive those instead. 

But as Jimin stands before you, you can’t resist the shriveled petals that land in the pit of your stomach like cherry blossoms in the midst of spring. You really don’t know how you manage to bear discourse about Valentine’s Day when he’s unknowingly sitting there with wide eyes, listening to you talk about unreciprocated love that’s so obviously directed towards him. 

“You mean to tell me that you read romance novels and watch rom-coms, but you hate the most romantic holiday of the year?” 

“Exactly,” you nod as if it’s indisputable. 

He gives you a questioning look with a crease on his forehead and lips pressed together in a straight line. “Make it make sense,” he challenges.

You finish chewing on the forkful of salad you popped into your mouth before answering. “Can I rant about it?” 

Jimin gives you the go ahead and you continue, “I don’t think you understand how much of a die-hard hopeless romantic I am.” 

“Actually, I think I do,” he scoffs and raises his shoulders confidently with eyes closed as if it’s a matter of fact. “That doesn’t prove your point though,” he counters. 

You put your hand up, motioning him to stop interrupting, “Let me finish.” 

Jimin shrugs and grins from across the counter, allowing you to proceed. 

“When I love something, I put my heart and soul into it. I believe in passion, chivalry, and true love.” He hums in agreement as you count down each item with your fingers as if it’s an unofficial list of all the things that encompass a hopeless romantic. “And for me, Valentine’s Day is a poor excuse to spend money and show off all the things you’ve received from your significant other.” 

“That’s valid,” Jimin nods, agreeing while munching on his fries. 

“Like, why spoil someone on this particular day? What happens during the other 364 days?” You spew. 

Jimin mouths “365,” correcting you on the technicalities of a leap year. 

You click your tongue, moving on to the point. “Are they not cherished for the rest of the year? I would hope that my boyfriend makes me feel special for more than a single night.” Your forehead creases, too livid at this point to even realize how sadly single you sound. 

You’re too busy ranting, accidentally speaking over Jimin to hear him reassure you that you are special. “Also there’s just so much pressure to make the night special, as if they have to plan something, otherwise they’re not the ‘perfect couple’ or the ‘perfect man.’” You emphasize with air quotes. 

“I felt that one,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“You see my point now?” You acknowledge him sullenly. There’s a tug on your heartstrings at the mention of his girlfriend, but you drive your point forward in hopes of changing the direction of topics. You don’t even want to think about whether or not he’s made plans with his girlfriend yet. 

“And what’s the deal with chocolates?” You yell, completely frustrated, throwing your arms up. “They’re totally overpriced. And cards? Cheesy and terrible. My Instagram feed? Flooded with PDA, and it's a big stab at singles like me.” You enunciate angrily, driving your fork harshly into your salad once again. 

He laughs and nearly falls off the stool he’s sat on top of before swiftly catching himself. You snicker at his unadulterated cuteness. 

“How ‘bout flowers?” He questions with ketchup lingering on the corner of his mouth. 

Picking up a napkin from the edge of the counter, you mindlessly reach across to wipe at his lips, still in the process of ranting. “Don’t get me started on flowers,” you shake your head, folding up the napkin on the table. Jimin smiles at you as your eyes train on the fork that digs through your salad, stabbing into the poor vegetables. “Florists overcharge for them, and I hate it because I didn’t get into this business for the purpose of cheating people out of their money.” At this point, you’re rolling your eyes, seething at the thought of Valentine’s Day. 

“Why’d you get into the business then?” He asks, silently offering his fries to you, the ones you’ve been eyeing ever since he revealed his lunch. 

“Because I love flowers,” you say plain as day, reaching to grab a fry. “Because they make me happy, and when I send them off to someone, I know it’ll make their day a little brighter too.”

You wave the fry around in the air before sticking it in your mouth. Capping off your empty bowl of salad, you don’t seem to notice how Jimin looks at you and the understated beauty you exude. 

“It’s cheesy, I know! You don’t have to look at me like I’m crazy,” you whine, briefly looking up at him with round eyes, turning around to toss your garbage. 

Jimin flashes you a big, toothy smile, “No, you’re not crazy. You’re just... exactly what I thought you were.” His voice is low, almost as if he’s thinking to himself. As if they’re words you’re not meant to hear. 

“Thanks? I think,” you giggle, unsure what he means. “Are you saying I’m predictable?” You inquire.

“I meant refreshing.” The crinkles at the corners of his eyes form as he grins. “I’m just trying to figure out why you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day.” 

“First of all, I don’t need a date,” you say in defense, teasingly offended. 

“I know that, and you know what I mean. But you deserve to be treated like you’re speー” 

“Second of all, I do have one.” 

“Oh. You do?” He asks, creasing his brows and biting his plush lips. 

“Yeah, with myself,” you jest with a smile, elbows resting on the counter with hands cupping your face. 

Jimin’s chest deflates with an exhale, finally letting out the breath he’s been holding. “What, are you gonna watch The Notebook until you cry?” He pokes at your shoulder like a tease. 

“I’m not that predictable,” you eye him with a gleam in your iris, fully knowing that it is the case. “But maybe,” you affirm with a sly smirk, “after I close up the shop at midnight though.” 

“Knew it,” he scoffs. “But why are you closing so late? You should go home early so you can cry and watch The Notebook.”

“Mmm.” You hum, standing up from your stool and turning to hide the downturn of your lips. Running a rag underneath the faucet, you turn to wipe down the counter free of any crumbs. Jimin lifts his elbow up as you glide the cloth across the glass until it’s squeaky clean. “Let’s not forget that it’s Valentine’s Day, and I run a flower shop, Jimin. People are going to come by for a bouquet until the last second.” You exasperate, shaking your head in disapproval of all the last minute shoppers. 

“You can’t get anyone else to lock up?” He suggests. 

“They’ll hate me forever if I force them to work until midnight,” you reason, “Besides, it’s not like they’re single, so it’s fine. I can do it myself.” 

“I really think you should be resting though. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, right?” He asks with concern in his intonation. 

“I can take care of myself, I promise. I’m gonna treat myself after work anyways.” You do a little dance that consists of shimmying your shoulders and bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet. 

He smiles at you endearingly with wide eyes, “I don’t think crying to The Notebook is a form of treating yourself.” He repeats as if the joke will never die. 

You shake your head and click your tongue exclaiming, “If you must know, I’m gonna bake cookies.” 

“Are you gonna share with me?” He pleads. 

Your tongue pokes at your inner cheek as if you’re thinking about it. “Hmm, I don’t know. I might eat them all in one night.” Your lips purse in a taunt. 

His mouth forms a pout, and you’re forced to give in to him and his bright puppy dog eyes. 

“Ugh, fine, but only because you asked so nicely, I guess I can make some extras,” you groan, pressing your lips together straight like an arrow. You nudge his shoulder with your own despite the squeeze at your heart and the softening of your eyes, “For you and your girlfriend.” 

It’s not like you had to mention it. But it’s been on your mind since yesterday, and you’re sure that the only way to fix a broken heart is to learn to accept it. Even if it means plucking out the thorns that are lodged in your heart until it feels numb. Empty and devoid of life. 

“Girlfrie- oh, right, right. That’d be nice,” he sputters out, body stiffening, “Butー”

“Maybe I can bake them Thursday night?” You offer. “So you can pick them up on Friday if you buy flowers for her?” Your eyes blink in a failed attempt to wink. 

Jimin stifles a laugh at your pitiful endeavor. It’s really pathetic how hard you try, pretending that you’re not hurt right in front of the guy who stormed into your garden. 

But you suppose flowers can’t grow without a little bit of downpour. 

He licks his lips, and his smile falters. “Riiight, but it’s okay, you should enjoy your cookies on Friday night because I’m not sure I’ll be around to buy flowers that day anyways.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, perplexed, head cocked to the side. 

“Uh, don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, brushing it off before taking a look at his watch. “I have to head back to work though, my break is almost ending.” You watch him carefully with narrowing eyes as he collects his belongings, scrambling to head out the door. With the exit half opened, he turns around to bid you goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

The bell chimes and he’s out of sight. 

You can’t even process his words because you’re too busy staring at the exit trying to figure out what the hell just happened. 

Adulthood is just an endless cycle of sleeping and working, but it seems like you’re lacking in the former activity seeing that all you do is work. In the final stretch of Valentine’s Day, with a few more days to go, you’re just about ready to crash and burn. 

Upon entering your quiet apartment tonight, you fail to do anything productive. You nose dive into bed and curl up into a cocoon at the strike of 10 pm. Somehow, you don’t even care enough to tug off your jeans or remove your smudged makeup. You’re ready to accept the consequences of bad skin and a stained pillowcase because the only thing that matters is that you knock out the moment your head hits the soft linen. There’s no time to replay the events of today or plan for tomorrow when your eyelids weigh you down into a deep slumber. 

There’s not a single thing that can spur you. Not even the shining of the moonlight over your profile or the rhythmic whizzing of cars on the empty street beneath you. Even when there’s a police siren ringing in the distance or a rumble from a descending airplane in the atmosphere above you, you don’t bat an eye. You can’t even hear the hum of the rusty pipelines when your neighbor hops into the shower at the breach of dawn. Even the whirring radiator and the ticking clock blurs into nothing but white noise. 

They’re all there to keep you company as you lie down in a bed of withered roses. To offer you comfort in your barren Renaissance garden. 

You can’t seem to put your finger on it, but you wake up feeling like it’s the best night of rest you’ve gotten in the last week despite it being a short lived slumber. It’s definitely the most consistent night of sleep you’ve had in a while. And even though you went to bed without dinner, it didn’t hinder your sleep whatsoever. It only means that you can eat a full breakfast to power through the day. 

And powering through is what you do best. 

Apparently, the world is up against you because you can’t remember the last time you even got to sit down. You’re constantly on your feet, attending to customers and fulfilling orders. There’s no time to breathe even when you’re literally enclosed in a greenhouse. There’s always something to do, and stopping to take a break means slowing down the process. It’s not an option you want to take. 

At the end of each day, you’re wobbling back home with sore muscles and blurred vision. Your ability to function is beyond your own imagination. Your definition of “functioning” has diminished to standing on your own two feet although that still bears a challenge for you. 

The sustenance in your body is nearly nonexistent, especially because you’ve been neglecting your self-care. Typically, you don’t think about eating on the job. It’s honestly not on your mind because there are only two things that occupy your brain space: (1) Work and (2) Jimin. 

Somehow, Jimin takes better care of you than you do yourself. And without him around, you’re a walking corpse. He’s always providing you with lunch and snacks, leaving you sticky notes with reminders to hydrate yourself. You didn’t realize that you needed him this much to remind you of the simple tasks like drinking or eating or… smiling.

Sometimes he draws cute flowers or scribbles plant puns on the post-it notes, sticking them onto obscure places that are hard for you to find. Your favorite one being the time he wrote “I love it when you call me big poppy.” 

He claims that the notes are designed to make you laugh, even for the few that are not very funny. They definitely do brighten your day, especially when you have the ephemeral chance to glance at them hanging up above your desk in the back office. Smiling at the itty-bitty illustrations has become second nature to you. When you’re going through a rough day, aka everyday, and you’re in need of a breather, you wander into the back room to pace around, only to come face to face with a kaleidoscope of doodled butterflies spanned across a string of rainbow post it notes.

He once drew a sunflower and said something cheesy about how your laughter is the embodiment of sunshine— how it would be a crime against the flora population if you were to go a day without laughter. 

It was corny and far from being right, but it was so perfectly Jimin. 

When he does stupid shit like that, it makes you feel like the biggest lovesick idiot in the world. In your naive past, you thought that the smiles he sent your way were ones reserved for you and only you. You were convinced that the shameless flirting was a silent mechanism used to express his inclination towards you. You assumed that the daily visits to your flower shop were formidable attempts to get to know you better. A little part of you hoped that the songs he shared with you equated to sharing a piece of his heart. 

You absolutely were sharing. You just didn’t realize that you’d be sharing with someone else. 

So when Jimin consigns adorable puns that melt your heart, and he stops by with a cup of coffee, just know that they’re acts of friendship. When he spends his lunch breaks at the flower shop and sings songs that remind him of you, he’s coming from a place of kindness, not attraction. 

It is true that Jimin’s your sunshine, but it’s also a fundamental principle to botanists that too much of something is bad enough, and too much of nothing is just as tough. And deceiving yourself into believing that he was all that you needed had scorched up all the flowers in your garden. 

The drought he put you in didn’t prepare you enough for the brewing storm. 

It pains you to say that you need him more than he needs you because even if he isn’t romantically interested in you, you would have hoped that he’d stick around as a friend. His waning presence leads you to believe that he’s simply not interested. 

Maybe you were too invested in what could have been between the two of you, you failed to see what was right there in plain sight. 

Somehow, you still wonder if he thinks about you as much as you think about him. And it’s pathetic granted you’re incredibly busy with work and your own crippling health. Yet thoughts of him still pop up throughout the day more than you would like. No matter how much you want to forget about your infatuation, you simply can’t will him away because of how often his beautiful face flashes before your eyes. You want to push him to the back of your mind, but whether you’re in need of a breather during your hectic schedule, admiring his stupid puns and butterfly mosaics, or you’re in need of some company in your eerily quiet apartment, doing laundry or having a meal all to yourself, you still can’t get the sound of his sweet laughter out of your head. 

You don’t know how it’s possible, but you manage to close up shop long before midnight. It’s a blessing and a curse because you are absolutely wiped out. Not only are you mentally checked out, but ironically, your flower shop is destitute of flowers, completely sold out from the holiday. As you clean up the barren space, you can’t help but feel as if a big weight has been lifted off your shoulders. The stress of Valentine’s Day is over, and you can finally go home, lie in bed with a tray of cookies, and enjoy the beauty that is Ryan Gosling. 

You even consider closing the store all of tomorrow because you need the day off to recharge. So as you print out and paste your notice on the glass door, you’re dumbfounded to come across a sliver of paper that’s already attached on the other side. Opening up the door and letting in a gust of cold air breeze by you, you remove the sticky note that’s been unknowingly attached to your entrance. 

Not a daisy goes by that I don’t think of you.

The smile that tugs on your lips grapples against the ache in your heart. Quickly, the fond smile melts into one of hurt and disappointment. Your left hand balls into a tight fist, marring crescent moon shapes into your palms. Meanwhile, your right hand delicately fiddles with the tiny square between your fingers, debating whether or not you should crumple up the paper and toss it away to be long forgotten. You’ve never been so confused about your feelings until Park Jimin came into your life, but you tuck the little daisy doodle into the pocket of your coat with a sigh. 

With every passing year, Valentine’s Day becomes a little more bearable than the previous. Tonight feels like any other night, but better. You’ve come to accept that if there isn’t someone who can make you feel special, you might as well do it yourself. 

Making a meal for you that doesn’t consist of ramen or 5 minute rice while dimming the lights and sparking up some candles is undeniably part of the healing process. And that’s what tonight mainly consists of. It’s all about love and self-care. 

With your laptop perched on top of your dinner table and your Netflix queue lined up, you mindlessly mix at your wet and dry ingredients with a wooden spoon. Nothing has made you feel more at ease than the comfort of watching your favorite movie on repeat and the sweet taste of raw cookie dough on your tongue. Sometimes it’s the simple things in life that can put a smile on your face. 

As you wait for your cookies to bake, you settle into bed with your legs crossed and back pressed against the headboard. Laughter from the speakers of your laptop fill the space, and you can’t help but laugh along with the characters, disrupting the peaceful ambiance of your apartment complex. The rumble of your laughter subsides, and the movie rolls on from scene to scene. 

Your ears perk up like Pavlov’s dog when the oven goes off. You turn your head so quickly you nearly get whiplash, but it’s all worth it for the love of chocolate chip cookies. The aroma of sugar is enough to will yourself out of bed and conveniently press pause on Ryan Gosling’s charming face. 

Pulling on your oven mitts to retrieve the hot platter, your body begins to sway around to the sudden echo of music. The soft guitar strums reverberate through the walls and against the vacant space of your studio. Your body stops moving to the acoustics when you realize where the noise is coming from. Looking up, your eyes bore into the eggshell walls as if you can see through it. But you soon space out, focusing on the vibrations of the nylon strings instead. 

The song fades out and the quietude breaks you out of your reverie. You blink in confusion, trying to remember the last time you heard from your neighbor. Although you haven’t spent much time in your apartment in the past week, you miss the late night chats with him. Lately, you’ve been knocking out as soon as your head hits the pillow for some much needed rest. You haven’t heard his voice in forever, and especially not his angelic singing voice. Even tonight he refrains from singing in place of just practicing his guitar. 

It’s a bit out of the ordinary. 

His side of the wall is surprisingly quiet tonight. You would have expected him to be out and about with his girlfriend, but at this point of the night, they would have been jumping at each other's bones. Yet the gentle patter of footsteps and the lack of banging would suggest that he’s flying solo tonight. 

Despite your curiosity, you’re not sure whether or not you’d want to bring it up in case it reopens some wounds. You think it’s best to leave it alone for the time being until he’s ready to come to you instead. 

So as you proceed with bingeing your movies, there’s something in the back of your mind that still distracts you. It’s literally a crime that you’ve sat through 2 hours of The Notebook, yet you haven’t shed a single tear because you’re not even focused on the film in front of you. Rather, you’re thinking long and hard about the last time you heard your neighbor laugh in sincerity. 

You really couldn’t care any less about the end credits that roll in front of you. Rather, with your chin propped up in the palm of your hands, you listen intently to what’s happening on the other side of the wall. It’s bizarrely quiet, aside from the sad symphony of string instruments that ring in the background of the ending credits. 

When your screen turns black, you shut off your laptop and stow it away, knowing in your heart that you’re no longer in the mood for a romantic movie marathon. You make your way into your kitchen and reach for the cookies that have cooled off by now. But somehow, it feels wrong to sit here in enjoyment of your own company. Yet at the same time, this batch of cookies was the only thing you were looking forward to all week. 

Nothing seems to satisfy you. 

The only desire that creeps upon you is the desire to spend the night with someone else by your side. Frankly, it’s stupid because you know that you don’t need a man, and even the whole world knows that you don’t need one. Especially not on Valentine’s Day because you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate February 14th with every fibre of your being.

However, the idea of having a friend at your side doesn’t seem so bad at this point. 

You transfer all the cookies from the tray onto a smaller plate, arranging the delectable morsels into a presentable fashion. 

With your slippers on, you make your way out of your apartment, letting the door close softly behind you. Standing in front of your neighbor’s abode, you nervously shift your weight on the heels of your feet. Midnight is approaching, and you wouldn’t want to disrupt his night like this, but it just feels right to knock on his door and offer your company. Just to check up on him because perhaps he’s in need of some companionship just like you. And who wouldn’t want some chocolate chip cookies? Baked with 80% sugar and 100% love. 

Mustering up all the courage in your body, your hand comes up in a tight fist, knocking at the wooden door. You wait a moment, but to your dismay, there’s no evidence of movement on the other side of the partition. You would have heard his footsteps by now, and perhaps the turning of the deadbolt, but it’s dead silent. 

Perhaps he didn’t hear you, so you knock a little harder this time.

Nothing. 

As you stand outside, lost in naivety, you wonder whether you should try to make a fool of yourself and knock again. It’s been a good 5 minutes of you debating between speaking up to get his attention or giving up and retreating to your studio in embarrassment. Then you mentally facepalm yourself remembering that it’s incredibly rude of you to drop by without any kind of warning. 

But still, you had his best interests in mind. 

You think that the third time’s the charm, so in a last attempt, you knock with full force. 

“Uhh, hey!” Your voice shakes and cracks. Blame it on the nerves. “I made some cookies, and I thought I’d share some!” You semi-yell in hopes of catching his attention. 

“One second!” Oh, thank God. You can hear the bed frame creak on the other side and the skid of footsteps across the floor boards. 

Your heartbeat weirdly picks up because of the fact that this is quite literally the first time you’ve come face to face with your neighbor. The late night chats with him have always made you feel comfortable, but there’s a certain nuance to meeting him that shakes your nerves. 

You brace yourself as you hear the lock turn, eyes casting down towards the plate in front of you. 

“I didn’t know that today’d be the day we meet like thiー” He says as the door swings open. 

You look up expecting to greet him with a smile, but the one you had prepared falters from your lips. 

“What’re youー” 

“Y- You liveー” 

You stutter over one another, lost in confusion. Staring into the very familiar set of brown eyes in front of you, you’re confounded by your new discovery. 

Jimin stands before you, running his hand through his black locks as he opens the door wider, stepping aside to let you through. 

“Hey, neighbor?” He sounds disoriented, untrusting of his voice. 

You’re stood frozen at the foot of the entrance, unsure as to how you could possibly process all of this. 

“I heard you made cookies?” He asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Here, come in.” He gently tugs on your sleeve, coddling you because of the state of shock you’re in. 

You nod your head, barely cognizant of what’s being said. But your feet still shuffle through the entryway, and you slide off your slippers at the front door. 

“This is so crazy,” he says, taking the plate of cookies off your hands. You’re both surprised that you have yet to drop them. He places the plate onto his coffee table, and his back is turned to you as you stand to the side, playing with the sleeves of your sweater. 

How much weirder can this situation possibly get? 

“You mean to tell me that we’ve been neighbors all this time and we didn’t even know?” You ask, sucking your lips inward, cocking your head to the side. Your words are a jumbled mess, but Jimin has become a master at deciphering your incoherent words through the thin walls many nights in a row. 

“I’m just as surprised as you! I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots?” He exclaims in dismay, patting the seat beside him on the couch as an invitation to you. 

Your brain feels as if it’s lost all of its cells because you have so many questions, yet you can’t seem to articulate them. As you sit down, you close your eyes and rub at your temples, praying that you’d wake up from this odd dream. 

“There’s no way I could have connected the dots,” you sputter in collection of your thoughts, completely exasperated. “I just don’t understand.” 

You fiddle with your fingers, and Jimin takes your hand in his. His touch is soft, and as much as you want to pull away, you give into him because there’s no way you’d ever deny him, especially not when he looks at you with those big round eyes. 

“I have so many questions,” you admit, rubbing at your eyelids. 

“Shoot.” 

“Uhm,” your head shakes wildly. “I don’t even know where to begin?” Your eyes widen, shocked by how nonchalant he’s acting. As if he didn’t just lead you on and ghost you days on end, pretending that everything’s okay now. 

“Take your time,” he chuckles reassuringly, offering you a calming smile. 

“Uhm… How are you? I guess? Th- that’s kind of the first thing I wanted to ask you before… I- you know.” 

Your heart gallops because he’s looking at you, biting his lip. And you, you are completely weak for the man who holds all of your affection in the palm of his hands, yet you can’t handle his smoldering stare, so you avert your eyes elsewhere. This is downright cruel and unusual punishment. 

You continue, “Because I haven’t spoken to you much lately, you know?” 

“You wanted to check up on me?” 

You blink away, eyes now focused on the vase of wilting flowers on the coffee table. Pink and red variegated carnations. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself and regulate your breath. Your body stiffens and your shoulders tense. Even your jaw tightens, but you manage to nod your head. 

“I’ve been better,” he admits sullenly. 

Your hand lets go of his, pulling back to seek comfort at your side. It just doesn’t feel right to hold his hand so intimately when he’s made a mess of your head and your heart. You just can’t do it to yourself, and you can’t do it to him or his girlfriend. Especially not when his heart belongs to her. 

You open your mouth as if you have another question to ask, but none of them are coherent enough to utter. There’s plenty of noise ringing in your head, but it’s all nonsense. 

Jimin gently rests his hand on the ball of your knee, almost like a graze, but his touch is hot, and you brush him off with the recoil of your leg. 

His shoulders slump, and his eyes soften. His hands retract to his lap, respecting your wishes. He gulps, and noticeably the lump in his throat goes down in a swallow. 

“Hey, it’s just me, okay? You don’t need to be scared.” He displays his palms out to you as a peace offering. A symbol of vulnerability. The tension in the air is palpable, but you still manage to keep your guard down in front of him. 

Because this is Jimin. The guy you’ve come to know and unfortunately love. But it’s just that you’ve never seen Jimin like this.

“Yeah and that’s kind of the problem,” you breathe out. Your brows knit into a frown, and he looks at you in bewilderment, with wide eyes, parted lips, and stress tousled hair. “I- I don’t know if you’re Jimin the mysterious neighbor who’s been nothing but nice to me, or Jimin the guy from the flower shop who pretty much made it loud and clear he doesn’t want to see me,” you scoff. 

“B- butー What do you mean? We’re the same person.” His eyes narrow, and he shakes his head subtly trying to convince you. He fiddles with his fingers, cracking his knuckles out of bad habit.  Shifting his body so his knees are pointed towards yours, nearly in contact, he refrains from the much needed skinship. The heat radiating from his body is something you’re familiar with, and although it once brought you comfort, you can only feel resentment. 

“Of course I want to see you? Iー I?” He’s a stuttering mess, shaking his head from side to side as if you’ve got it all wrong, but you interject because you have so much to say, yet you haven’t expressed yourself to your liking just yet. 

“I don’t know about that!” Your hands clench up at your sides until your knuckles turn sharp. “Because neighbor Jimin is telling me he has a fuck buddy he thinks he’s in love with, and flower shop Jimin has a girlfriend he doesn’t want to talk about. So what is it? I’m hearing a lot about mixed feelings for this one person, and… if you’re involved with someone, I don’t want to get in the middle of this,” you spit out more harshly than expected, inching further and further away to the edge of the couch with your arms crossed over your chest. You gulp down a thick glob of spit in hopes of washing down the acidic sting in your throat, but it’s like bile just sits there on your tongue. 

“Let me explain, okay?” He begs of you. 

You sit there in sullen silence, staring at the carnations in your peripherals, ready to have him break your heart all over again. You nod, but you don’t even bother turning to face him, unsure whether or not you’d be able to hear him talk about how he’s in some complicated relationship with someone else. 

“Please, look at me?” he pleads with a sniffle, “I need to know if you’re okay.” His voice cracks, and you finally look his way. You’re far from okay, but seeing him with glossy eyes, you also know that he isn’t either. 

He licks his lips, and his hand comes up in desperate need of tucking the stray strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face. But he decides against it in fear of rejection, and he rests his hand on the ball of his knee instead. Your line of sight falls to his shaking leg. You hesitantly reach across to close your hand softly around his in comfort. His movement stops instantly as he lets out a huff. 

Licking your lips, your eyes gaze towards your hands, and you can’t help but imagine how they’d slot into one another so perfectlyー 

“_____?” Your eyes shift to lock with his and there are tears that brim at his corners, but they’re kept at bay, refusing to fall. 

“I-” He exhales. 

You squeeze his hand a little tighter, and you don’t know if it’s more for yourself or for him, but it gives him the strength to continue on. 

“Look, that girl and I? We weren’t in a relationship. I promise you. I told you that we were friends with benefits because that’s what we were.” He insists, hoping the message gets across to you, but your heart drops lower into your stomach at his admission. You don’t even want to picture him with some other girl, yet you know way more about their relationship than you would have ever wanted. 

Hell, you were even convinced that they were in love. A highlight reel of the last few months spent in your apartment flashes before your eyes, and your grip on his hand loosens. You think back to the days when Jimin was just some faceless guy, dancing around with his supposed girlfriend, having pillow fights, running warm baths, making out beneath the stars, and fucking around with her like they were in love. 

But he continues in hopes that you’d understand his point of view. “It was easier to tell you the truth because you didn’t know who I was, and you wouldn’t have judged me for it. So I was an idiot, and at the flower shop, I told you she was my girlfriend because it would have been easier to explain this complicated mess.” A single tear cascades down his cheek, and he wipes it away with the crook of his elbow. 

“I mean, she wanted it to be serious, but there was just something pulling me back. And do you know what that was?” 

You shake your head no and pull away, unsure how much more of this you can take. 

He looks you dead in the eyes, but you can’t even look at him for another second because the wilting carnations are sitting there, mocking you. 

“_____, you asked me the other day what I liked about her, and I was wracking my brain trying to come up with an answer... It wasn’t easy because you were the only person I thought about.”

A sudden tear escapes from the corner of your eyes, unbelieving, but you compel yourself to look back at his visage, checking for any tells of a lie. He doesn’t even falter. 

“She and I? We fought so much because she was convinced I had feelings for someone else. And you know?” He shakes his head,  “…It’s true. I couldn’t think about the things I liked about her, but then when I thought of you. My god, it was just so much easier to talk about the things I loved about you because you’re the one I like. I didn’t know how to express that, okay? The songs that I wrote? The ones you hear me sing day and night? Fuck…” He rubs at his eyes, and they’re evidently red from all the tears welled up. “They’re all about you, and you didn’t even know,” he sobs out. The first drop of tears came out steadily, but as you examine his face in total shock, the tears begin to cascade down his face. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, now understanding where he’s coming from. It’s all a little more clear to you, and there’s no need to continue on if he’s in hysteria like this. His arms instinctively squeeze around your waist, holding on tight, too afraid that he’d lose you if he were to let go. 

“I didn’t have my feelings sorted out because I was comfortable with where I was, but it’s not like it made me happy,” he confesses. You hush him, running your fingers through his hair and caressing his slumped back. Sitting in silence, you can only hear the sound of your breathing falling into sync with his. Occasionally, the radiator would go off and a car would drive by on the street beneath you. 

You tell him that it’s all okay and that all is forgiven, but he still continues in justification of himself. “And I was convinced that you’d think I was a horrible person for liking someone else when I’ve got a complicated relationship going on, okay? Because that’s how I felt about myself, and I swear we broke it off, but I was too embarrassed to come to you because I didn’t know how to explain the mess I got myself into. It’s all my fault, and I’m so so so sorry, you have no idea.” 

He’s wracked with sobs, but you hum, listening intently to his every word. They’re coherent enough for you to realize that you’ve both made mistakes because of a huge misunderstanding. 

The Jimin that you know and love is right here in your arms, and there’s nothing you can do but forgive and forget. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he cries out with a hiccup. “I promise you that you’re the only person I care about.” 

You whisper sweet nothings into his ear, hoping that he calms down because there’s really nothing to apologize for. “What did I say? You don’t have to be sorry, okay?” You remind him. 

He lets out a breathy exhale, “I messed up,” he hiccups, “I don’t deserve this. You.” 

Your hands rest on his shoulder, gently pulling back from him, but he clings on tighter to your waist. Looking down at the sweet man beneath you, you smile to yourself. 

“Jimin,” you murmur.

“Hm?” 

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” You shake your head, and a soft chuckle vibrates through your chest. Still, you keep him in your embrace because although it may seem like Jimin is the one in need of a hug, you need it just as much as he does. 

“Can I tell you a story?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, tickling the skin at your sternum. 

“I think I caught feelings for you the first time we met. Do you remember that?” He hums as you reminisce on the memory. “It was some random Sunday, and you walked in looking for a bouquet for your mom, but you realized you didn’t have enough cash on youー” 

Jimin laughs beneath you, and it’s the way that he laughs that makes you realize you need that in your life. A cheshire grin spreads across your lips, and that’s when you know you can’t go a single day without hearing his laugh again. 

“You didn’t have enough cash, so you pulled out a post it note and scribbled an IOU.” You can barely get the sentence out without chuckling to yourself. Jimin has stopped sobbing at this point, being reduced to a few sniffles here and there. You deem it as the right moment to pull back from his embrace so you can look him in the eyes. 

“You drew a little daisy for me and that’s when I knew you were really something else.” 

You cup his cheeks, and a grin tugs on his lips, matching the one on your face. His eyes shine in the dim light, just like how the sun radiates in the day time. A single tear trickles down his plush cheeks, and you wipe it away with the pad of your thumb. 

“Look, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember, and I have to admit that it hurt me when you said you had a girlfriend, but it really hurt me when you left without saying anything.” 

His eyes cast downwards as if he’s ashamed, but you place your hand beneath his chin, bringing his attention back up. 

“Know that I’d never judge you for the decisions you make and for the relationships you have, okay? And I don’t think you’re horribleー” 

“You don’t?” He cuts you off with his big pleading eyes. 

“No, far from it,” you beam, “I still think you’re the most selfless person I know.” 

Jimin’s face drops at your confession, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like you’re not special, because to me, you’re the most extraordinary person in this world.” 

He cups your face, noticing that your eyes are starting to well. Drops of tears roll down your face, and Jimin’s quick to dry them away, pressing his lips against your cheeks to collect the drops of salt water. As you smile, another stream of tears pour from your ducts. Soft pecks are trailed against your skin, and you think you’ve successfully washed away all the pain. 

You can feel the flowers in your heart slowly starting to bloom in preparation for spring. 

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, opening up your eyes. He’s merely a few inches away from you, stuck in a daze. 

His eyes can’t decide whether they want to look at the gleam in your irises or at the curvature of your lips, flickering between the two. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” Your whimper is hardly loud enough for your own ears, but he hears you loud and clear. 

His hands rest at the sides of your neck as his thumbs run over your cheeks, grazing over the flesh of your lips. “Can I show you how special you are to me?” 

You nod your head, and Jimin is overcome with the urge to kiss you, inching closer with puckered lips. They’re soft against your own, plush and pillowy. You melt into his touch as if he’s the light of your life. You think you could cry again from the sheer amount of euphoria built up in your little heart. Having him in your arms is all you could ever ask for. 

He pulls back slightly in need of a breath, and you take the opportunity to climb into his lap, with knees settled on either side of his taut thighs. 

“Missed you,” you whimper against the column of his neck, nosing at the sensitive skin. 

Jimin’s breath hitches as he bites back a moan, “Missed you more.” 

“Not possible,” you trail gentle kisses against his collarbones, pulling back on the cotton of his t-shirt to expose more of his neck. 

His hands rest on your outer thighs thighs, squeezing tight on the muscles. You reach behind you to grab at his forearms, urging him to move his hands higher onto your body. He takes the hint immediately and experimentally squeezes at your ass. Your lips part from his neck, and Jimin takes the opportunity to latch his mouth back onto yours. 

His lips are gentle in contrast to the firm grip he has on you. But with your weight resting on top of him, core pressed up against his crotch, you can feel how hard he is beneath you. In need of some release, you start to move your hips back and forth, grinding over his hard on. 

Jimin gives you a lingering kiss on your lips, pulling back with a harsh groan. You offer a teasing smile, and he leans forward. He supports your weight at the bottom of your ass as your legs wrap around his waist. You nearly yelp when he stands, holding you up in his arms. 

“I got you,” he reassures, pressing his lips firmly against yours, walking towards his unmade bed space. He lays you down gently on top of the messy covers, climbing between your legs. You whine upon the release of his lips, but his mouth leaves hot kisses down the column of your throat, causing you to gasp.

“Is it okay if we take this off?” He asks, thumbing at the hem of your sweater. 

You nod sitting up, and he tugs the material off for you, tossing it to the edge of the bed. Upon sight of your bare chest, he molds into you, lips suctioning around your pebbled nipple. His other hand massages at your unattended breast, squeezing at the supple flesh.

“You’re beautiful,” he hums against your body.

You’re easily affected by his words as your back arches and your legs hook around his torso. Canting your hips upward, you signal to Jimin with a whine that you’re desperate for his touch. 

“There’s no need to rush, baby, we have the whole night,” he warns you, leaving a kiss between the valley of your breasts. 

You cry out in frustration, but it soon subsides when he satiates your needs. You relax when his hand lowers into your sweatpants, cupping at your heat. His middle finger traces at your entrance, running it up and down your panty clad slit. Your hips lurch once again, but Jimin presses your hips down, flush against the mattress. 

As his tongue circles around your sensitive nipple, his fingers decide to dip into your underwear. The obscene sound of your juices squelching can be heard when he presses his finger into your tight hole. Inserting a finger in, you can feel your walls stretch around him. A cry falls from your lips as he begins to rub at your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

Jimin inserts another finger, and your cunt feels so hot with the amount of friction. Pumping two fingers in and out, there’s a pleasurable burn that ripples throughout your body. Beads of sweat form on your hairline, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand. You can practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Tell me how it feels, okay?” He asks, switching over to your other breast.

“You feel so good,” you mewl. He hums against your nipple in affirmation, biting lightly at the perky bud. 

“Jimin?” You call out for him. 

He parts from your chest to look into your eyes, fingers still pumping in and out of you with flexing biceps. 

“I think it’d feel better if you’d fuck me,” you admit, no filter needed. 

“Shit,” he groans, slowing down the pace. “I want to eat you out first though.” 

He retracts his hand, and you feel empty without him inside. Your sweatpants and panties are tugged off in one swift motion, casted to the side along with your sweatshirt. Looking up with stars in your eyes, you can see that Jimin is still fully dressed. You open your mouth to tell him about your wishes, but he must have read your mind because he pulls off his t-shirt and throws it with no regard. 

Beneath his clothing, he reveals to you his robust body. You’re dripping with lust, and it must be so obvious from the way you stare at his abdominals. Everything about him is so well-built, and you curse the talented dancer in front of you. 

“Like what you see?” He teases, winking at you as he descends down your body. 

“Love it,” you moan. 

His breath is hot against your wet pussy. With juices dripping down your ass, you ruin the linen sheets beneath you. His fingers play with your core, spreading your swollen lips to reveal your flower, admiring how pretty your cunt is. 

Sitting up with elbows propped, you look down in frustration between your bent legs to see Jimin licking his lips, staring at your heat like he’s ready to devour you. He kisses at the long, dark lines of stretch marks that reside on your inner thighs before his tongue presses softly against your wet clit, kitten licking at the bud. Reaching out, your hand balls around the white comforter to anchor yourself down. As you spread your legs wider, Jimin’s hands hook around your limbs to rest at your thighs. He presses them down, restricting your movement. 

His tongue laps at your heat with no mercy, licking a stripe up your sex and tracing letters onto your clit, sending your nerves aflame. Your breaths are shallow as you pant, melding yourself to the mattress. He flicks his tongue, prodding it against your hole and delving in and out. He massages your tight walls as it clenches around his tongue. 

There’s a knot in your stomach that forms embarrassingly fast, but you can’t help it when his plush lips give your cunt so much attention, sucking harshly on your clitoris. He looks over at your features, taking notice of your reactions, licking over and over the parts that make you squirm the most. 

Your face scrunches in pleasure, nearly toppling over the edge. But you’re not ready to come. Not yet at least. Not without having Jimin’s hard cock inside of you. 

Jimin is relentless against your pussy, but he doesn’t even let up when you call his name out. Your grip around the comforter loosens in favor of digging your fingers into Jimin’s luscious black locks. 

“Jimiiiin,” you whine, tugging lightly at his roots. “I need you, please, please,” you beg. 

He leaves a kiss at your bud, and you shudder in response. Jimin climbs up your body, and you shiver at the loss of contact. 

“You need me, huh?” He teases, “You want to come?” You nod your head ardently when he presses his red, swollen lips against yours. He grapples with your mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss. With clicking teeth and suckling tongues, you can taste yourself off of his plush lips, completely drenched in your arousal. 

Trailing your hand down Jimin’s sturdy body, you can’t resist running your hands over his perfectly sculpted abs. But on your descent, you pull on the strings of his heather gray sweatpants, loosening the elastic around his waist. 

Your palm slides beneath the band, tucking beneath his boxer briefs. His eyebrows scrunch, and he gasps against your mouth when you wrap your hand around his hot, veiny cock, stroking at his erection. His cheeks flush as you swipe your thumb over the head, collecting beads of precum on your fingers. 

He shudders at your touch. “Oh my God, I might die if you keep doing that,” he nearly cries. 

You smile against the skin of his neck, sucking at his pulse point. Meanwhile, Jimin reaches over to his nightstand, pulling out a condom. He nearly falls off the bed, losing balance on his knee when you stroke his cock a little faster. 

As Jimin sits up, trying to open up the packaging, you careen forward to pull off his sweats. You can hardly pull it down below his thick ass given the position he’s sitting in. But it’s enough for you to pull his dick out and wrap your hand around his girth in all its glory. 

While waiting for Jimin to take out the condom, you decide to tease him like he deserves. Switching positions, you lie down on your stomach in front of him. With a glob of saliva built up in your mouth, you spit onto the head of his cock, watching it drip down the shaft and onto his balls. You glide your hand up and down to spread the saliva, making sure he’s nice and wet. His balls tighten the moment you suckle your lips around his slit. 

You look up at Jimin with wide eyes in hope of some praise. 

His eyes stare into yours, but he quickly throws his head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m not gonna last, please, I know your mouth is like heaven, but I want to be inside you,” he rambles. 

He tucks your hair behind your ears and rests his hand beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. His lips meet your forehead in a sweet kiss before you lie back down on the bed, spreading your legs wide open as an invitation. 

Jimin ungracefully pulls off his pants down the rest of his legs. He pumps his thick cock in his hands before sliding on the condom and lining himself up at your entrance. You groan, reaching out for his wrists as he glides his length up and down your folds, making sure you're nice and wet for him, fully prepped. 

The callous on his thumb is rough against your clit as he rubs down on it, easing the discomfort of penetration. Your velvety walls stretch around his member as he sinks into you inch by inch. 

You’re gasping for air as he sheaths himself inside you, but you remain calm because Jimin peppers kisses all across your face. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. 

“Mhmm,” you hum, “Might need a second.” 

His nose nudges at your cheek, “Take all the time you need, baby.” 

Moments go by until you’re comfortable with the stretch. You don’t know how Jimin has so much patience with you when you can literally feel his dick twitch inside your pussy, impossibly harder than he was moments prior. But like the angel he is, he still waits for your go-ahead. 

“Jimin, you can move,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and offering a butterfly kiss. 

His mouth finds his way to yours, and he kisses you with so much fervor. You’re too distracted by the kiss to notice him slide out of you. 

But your lips part slightly, letting out a gasp when he drives his dick back into you, setting a moderate pace. Your hands reach for the skin of his back, latching your nails onto the smooth surface. The slap of skin on skin is obscene as his hips meet yours, pumping himself inside of you. The delicious burn has you digging your nails into his shoulder blades, scratching at his taut muscles. 

You weren’t wrong to say that you can’t go another day without hearing Jimin’s laughter, but at the time, you were not privileged enough to hear his moans against the shell of your ear. That is the one thing you don’t want to ever live without, too spoiled by the sensual man above you. 

Jimin fucks into you deeply, changing his angle as he shifts his weight onto his knees. His calculated thrusts to your g-spot sends you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes focus on your pussy, watching his dick disappear inside of you like an addiction. With a firm grasp on your hips, he lifts you higher to help you reach your orgasm. 

“Jimin, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, gripping your walls tightly around his length. 

“I know, baby, you can come.” He lowers himself onto his elbows so he can come face to face with you. His hands reach down between your bodies, and he rubs harsh figure eights on your swollen clit. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles beneath him, moaning his name like a vice. 

Jimin rides out your high, pumping into your tight hole until your legs nearly give out. He doesn’t dare pull away, continuing to circle your clit until you’ve nearly reached your limits. Your walls pulse around his cock, squeezing around his shaft until he’s nearly at his edge. His hair is matted to his forehead, slicked by sweat. You brush away the loose strands with the tips of your fingers. 

“Are you close?” You breathe out, hush and quiet, cupping his jaw with the palm of your hands. 

“Mhmm,” he gulps, rutting into you, pumping your cum in and out as it sheaths his shaft. 

His pace falters as he approaches his orgasm, hips stuttering against yours. Jimin nearly collapses on top of you as he spills himself into the condom, moaning into the cusp of your ear. His chest presses up against yours as he attempts to catch his breath.

You trace soothing circles onto his back as he basks in the afterglow of post orgasmic sex. 

His breathing soon evens out, and it’s comfortably quiet, that is with the exception of the radiator hissing in the corner of the studio. 

“Wow.” He kisses your temple before pulling out, letting the remains of your cum flow out of you. He rolls over onto his back, pulling you into his warm embrace.

“So on a scale of 1-10, how special would you say you feel right about now?” A smug smirk tugs on his lips, and you playfully smack his pecks. 

“Does this answer your question?” You ask, peppering 10 kisses onto his lips. 

“Mmm, no, I didn’t quite hear your answer” he says, leaning in for another kiss, “Tell me one more time?” 

And as Jimin kisses you goodnight, you know in your heart that the heartache and the loss of $5 are all worth it in the end if it means you get to wake up and smell the roses with Jimin at your bedside. 

#bts smut #bts fluff #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin #park jimin #bts angst #jimin angst #bangtan #bts #fic: lover to lean on #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #flower shop au #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #bts fan fic #bts fanfiction #bts fan fiction #bts x reader #jimin scenario #jimin imagine #bts scenario #bts imagine

[megthemewlingquim]

SHE

Summary: He’s thinking of you.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: brief smut (18+ content)

A/N: This is Chapter Eight of my “Fine Line” series! This one is inspired by She. I hope you like this series! If you do, please reblog and leave feedback. I heavily encourage you to listen to the album (because it’s phenomenal), or listen to each song before you read each chapter. Speaking of chapters, they will be uploaded every Sunday at 12:00 PM EST.

Oh yeah, um... Happy Valentine's Day. ;)

Find the “Fine Line” masterlist here!

Read Chapter Seven, TO BE SO LONELY, here!

Days, weeks, months pass, and Loki is moving on…

Is what he wants to think.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it? You’ve moved on. You’ve become the girlfriend of another man, one that treats you well. You’re happy with him. And Loki… well…

Loki is stuck in his bed, a bottle of the drink always beside the bed. Loki is stuck thinking about you until he can’t take it anymore, and the only way to get his feelings out is to imagine you. To think of you.

His thoughts wander, like they always do. To the realities that you could’ve had together, to the scenarios that may have been.

Nine in the morning, the man drops his kids off at school.

Kids? Marriage?

He admits, the thought of kids does sound nice. A little you and a little Loki running around, causing mischief and laughter and—

He shakes his head. No.

And he’s thinking of you. Now, only you live in his daydreams. You’re the first one he sees... But you’re unknown to him, only a familiar form with a blurry face and an unfamiliar voice. He can’t remember everything, even with his godly mind, and you’re almost gone entirely...

Almost.

He can imagine how you felt... He can imagine that you are still

“There,” you say. “Part one? All done.”

“What is this, my love?” Loki asks, coming into the living room. His eyes and face are lit up by the tiny little white string lights that cover the room in a soft golden hue. The rest of the room is dark, dim, bare.

“It’s a...” you start, fumbling for words. “It’s... hmph. I don’t know. It’s part of my blanket fort.”

“Blanket fort?”

“Yeah!” you say excitedly, abandoning your confusion. “I... haven’t made that, though. I was setting things up, and I was gonna surprise you with it!”

“You’re adorable, you know,” Loki says with an amused hum. “How about we make this... blanket fort you speak of. We can set sleeping bags and pillows up, so we can sleep. How’s that sound?”

You end up doing just that. And, well, things go a little further from there.

There's blush on his cheeks, and on yours. "Do you..." Loki asks hesitantly. "Do you want to? If not that's—"

"Yes," you say, trusting him with your life.

Under all of the lights, coloring the room pink and white, you and Loki make love. It hurts you only for a moment, then all you know is pleasure. Loki, on top of you, holding you with such tenderness and heart. You, below him, gripping onto him and sighing out your moans and whimpers.

Oh, if you only thought it through...

For this is your downfall. For the both of you. Here starts a flawed, empty, selfish man and a woman who's head over heels.

He drives into you slowly — all is a slow, powerful rolling sea, with crashing waves and lightning strikes and a tempest of emotions, all wrapped up into a little blanket fort.

You're gasping, clawing at his bare skin and he's grunting softly against your shoulder, kissing there when he can. "My love..." he gasps. "You are divine. You feel.... wonderful."

Your head spins, and the waves build into a swirling, growing crescendo, you finally moan into the air.

You glance upward, seeing the stars on your ceiling, and when the waves come crashing down and plunge you into the deep intensity of climax, you feel completely and entirely safe. Loved. Wanted.

You cry out, "Oh

fuck," Loki gasps.

Loki comes into his hand and onto the bed, his hand racing up and down his cock. He blinks, and sees a dark room, lifeless and bare. You're nowhere to be found. In fact, you're halfway across the world, it seems.

His semen dries on his bedsheets.

Lives for a memory

A woman who's just in his head

And she sleeps in his bed

While he plays pretend,

his thoughts sing.

#fine line #loki fanfic #loki #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki series #loki (marvel) #harry styles #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki friggason #smut #romance #loki smut