#but if I scroll too much then I start to get sooo upset that i cant go to X concert or i cant afford X thing from a small business i follow

[sgt-celestial]

instagram and twitter and tiktok etc are all so detrimental to your health like i spend two minutes scrolling through my feed and im either immeasurably angry at a bad opinion i just saw or im sad about how boring my life is in comparison to Hot Estranged Schoolmate #7........like why look at bad tiktoks when you could be listening to the monkees

[teddybeartoji]

lays down and kicks my feet, tell me some thoughts you have about satoru, draws circles on your blog with my finger

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII JAZZ HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII:3333333333 IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU HEREE HEHEHEHHEEE i have a bunch of smaller headcanons for him i hope that's what you were looking for!!!!!!!!

HE DROOLS WHEN HE SLEEPS!!!!!!!! like actually drools. he also snores but the snoring is so fucking cute??????????? i hate him why is everything he does always so perfect?????????? bro can't even fucking drool and snore in a bad way smhhhhhhhhh

HE LOVES WATCHING YOU DO "HARD WORK"!!!!!!!!! and by "hard work" i mean shit like carrying around heavy things and idk putting together furniture or smth lmao. it most definitely turns him on too.......... there's just smth abt your dirty clothes and your sweat and your concentrated face and he loooooves when you tell him that you don't want his help!!! he always offers bc he's a Gentleman like that even though he knows you don't necessarily need it. but the way you just go "no-no, i got it." gets him going!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he wants youu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's bringing you drinks like he's a proper malewife and then proceeds to just admire you while you work lmao.

HE LOVES CALLING YOU!!!!!!!!! calls you over the smallest things. he just wants to talk to you and he wants to hear your voice!!!!!! some of the calls are literally just minute long (and that's only bc he spends 30seconds on saying that he loves you), while some calls are hours long. oh and he absolutely adores if you do the same. he wants you to call and send voice messages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOSES HIS SOCKS ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he steals yours btw. he's constantly going "baaaaaaaabee! have you seen my sock?!" while the said sock is literally sitting on the chair right next to him SMHHH ok but when you show it to him he just turns to you with a dopey smile and gives you a sloppy, haste little kiss, mumbling how he doesn't know what he'd do without you............... i wanna marry him jazz i wanna marry him

LOVES KISSING YOUR TUMMYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's always smiling while doing it too. you could just be lazing on the couch, scrolling on the phone and he's crawling on top of you. he pushes up your shirt just so he can see and feel your skin before pressing light, gentle kisses on you. if you peek at him from under your phone, you'd just find him staring back at you with sparkling eyes.

HE DOESN'T LIKE TEA???????? idk this just feels right okay... don't judge me i am an avid tea drinker so i am upset abt this too. no matter how much honey or sugar you put on it, he's always scrunching his nose at the taste. he is willing to try different ones just for you but i really feel like he's not a fan of any of the flavours. (FLAVOUR???? TEA FLAVOUR???? idk english is weird ok)

(he knows exactly how you like yours though. suguru has taught him how to make good tea, so satoru relishes in making you smile whenever he surprises you with a cup!!!! he knows when you want it too; he's a bit of a mind reader honestly. you sit down on the couch and he's already marching into the kitchen with a mission. it's his love language<33)

SHOWERS EVERY MORNING!!!!!!!!!! i think he loves showering. just overall. it gives him so much energy and it makes him feel so good, so fresh - it's the best way to start his day!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also sings in the shower. or more like yells in the shower. a lot. he's dumb and i love him. and then he always steps out of the bathroom with wet hair and just like a pair of pyjama pants on and he smells so fucking good aaaand it makes you wanna get him all dirty again!!!!! i said what i said.

(he sometimes just leans on the doorframe as he's brushing his teeth and just grins at you knowing full well that you wanna EAT HIMMM)

OKE I THINK I'M GONNA STOP HERE BEFORE I FULLY LOSE IT!!!!!!! BUT WAHHH I LOVE TALKING ABT HIM SOOO SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR DROPPING BY AND THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME JAZZ<333333333333333 I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING AN AMAZING DAY MY LOVEE MWAH MWAH MWAHMWAH!!!!!

[starrclown]

I've see ALOT of LMK angst and I have nothing better to do (cause it's late at night) and I'm not working on my LMK apocalypse au right now sooo-

LMK ANGST HEADCANNONS

Triggerwarning for Violence, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, and other general upsetting topics.

(Feel free to leave yours below. Let's make these characters sad together!)

:D

Pigsy gets upset when people joke about Wukong being Mk's dad. It's insulting to him, the one that raises Mk since he was so little.

Wukong is someone that craves physically touch but also can't stand it. It stems from all the violence he's been apart of + the crown messed him up alot. He was SUPER uncomfortable with Mk touching him in the beginning. It has to be on his terms if you wanna touch him.

Macaque doesn't have a heart beat anymore.

Because of Macaque never coming back when Wukong needed him, Wukong had no trust that Macaque will come back if they have a argument. He assumes that Macaque is just gone and gets upset about it. Eventually Macaque comes back and realizes Wukong's upset but he doesn't bring it up cause he doesn't know how.

Redson doesn't really understand why his father doesn't seem to like him. He assumed that his dad would be overjoyed to see him again, not how he's acting now.

Mei had many breakdowns because of her grades and the pressure to be a spectacular student.

Pigsy got bullied alot in school for being a pig demon. It wasn't everyone, most people liked him, just a specific group of kids.

To add on to #7, Tang used to beat himself up over not being able to help Pigsy. He HATED seeing Pigsy getting bullied but he knew that if he tried to start a fight he would either get beat because he can't fight or get himself kicked out of school.

Mk gets nightmares of Wukong getting forced into the scroll. Sometimes he wonders what would of happened if Wukong never got out. He usually ends up crying.

The closest thing Sandy ever got to being violent is when one of his cats scared him and he accidently dropped Mo. He cried. Alot. (Mo was fine but he just hates his cats being hurt.)

Sandy still doesn't know Hunstman is dead. He just thinks that Huntsman was scared of him so he never came back. (Guess Hunstmans my favorite and he's dead and i hate it here god dammit.)

No one can say anything about Azure or Azure's death around Wukong because he will get upset. Macaque made a joke one time and Wukong lost his shit. He's still kinda shooken up about it.

Some of the baby monkies recognize Macaque as the one disguised as Wukong that ate the monkey and passed it around. Those monkies REFUSE to be around him. They get violent if they have to be around him.

Nezha wants to see Wukong, Redson, and the others more but his job is so demanding he barely gets to leave.

Wukong physically couldn't be around Tang for long periods of time when they first met. He got more comfortable with him over time but Tang reminded him to much of Tripitaka and he couldn't handle it.

Mei doesn't yell out of anger, like serious anger alot. When she finally yelled at Wukong because of the fire, all Wukong saw was Ao Lie screaming at him. (Stole that headcannon from a friend of mine. Thanks Ainnur you ruined my life.)

Mk brought up the fact that Wukong was willing to put the fire into himself and sacrifice himself, almost certainly killing himself in the process one time. Wukong kinda laughed and just said "Yeah, had to save the world bud. It's a shame Macaque messed up my plan, the world woulda been a little bit more peaceful if me AND Lady Bone Demon died." He wasn't even trying to admit suicidal feelings, he was just being honest. This scared the SHIT out of Mk because Wukong just admitted that he can and will kill himself if he feel he needs too.

Sandy often feels left out of the group and not as important but he doesn't wanna ruin everyone's fun so he stays quiet.

Bai he was ready to die when she was found by the Monkie Gang. She wasn't scared of death anymore.

Bai he was scared of Wukong when they first met face to face. Wukong apologized and explained himself. Over time she got a little more comfortable with him. She understands why he's apologizing but at that point she was so ready to die she didn't care who did it.

Redson wants to be around Sun Wukong again but he doesn't know how to start the relationship again. Same on Wukongs part but he's a bit more forward.

Macaque gets physical in fights fast. Partly cause his fights with Peng, Partly cause of his life before Wukong, Partly cause of Lady Bone Demon. If Macaque thinks a situation will get rough, he'll try to fight but if he thinks he'll lose he'll dip.

Princess Iron Fan unintentionally critiques Redsons's looks all the time. It messes with him alot so he's quite insecure.

Mei feels the need to always be upbeat and cheerful so Mk doesn't sink to far into depression. She can tell when he does this for her but she doesn't bring it up.

Pigsy's worst fear is that Mk won't come back home. The nightmares he's had of this is brutal.

I could make more but I'm sleeeeepppy. I'll make a part two one day though. Leave your own headcannons cause seeing other people break down these characters is so fun.

(How some people think Mk will be in season 5)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[satorusdiary]

4:22’ pm - rin itoshi

4:22: hi rinnie

4:22: can you pick me up please, i went on the wrong train..😓

you didn’t expect a fast reply, which made you slump onto one of the benches nearby the train station. you were at-least a few miles away from home.

maybe you should’ve paid attention more towards the trains instead of rushingly getting on a random one that was close to leaving.. but it wasn’t your fault, the train had the number you were supposed to go on!

surprisingly you got a reply not even five minutes later.

rin ml 4:26: oh lord.

rin ml 4:26: send me your location, right now.

you sighed in relief. but, apart of you felt a bit terrified. you knew once you would get home you would get a long lecture from your boyfriend.

honestly seeing rin being pissed off was a mix of three things, scary, hot, and sexy. it was undeniable, even if it would leave him slightly red, you could not deny it.

4:27: (location)

4:27: don’t be maddd..

rin ml 4:28: y/n.

rin ml 4:28: oh my god.

4:28: IM SORRY :((

4:28: i swear i was on the right train!

rin ml 4:29: apperantly not.. you’re stupid.

rin ml 4:29: stay where you are, i’m omw now.

4:30: thank you sooo much rin<33

4:30: i love you.

rin ml 4:32: i love you more

rin ml 4:32: i’m still upset, don’t think you’re off the hook baby.

4:33: :((

“c’mon, let’s go.” your boyfriends sweet voice comes into your senses, slightly startling you as you were busy scrolling on your phone.

before you could say anything, his arm goes around your waist and almost drags you away from the station, making his way to his car.

even if you knew he was frustrated with you, you still smiled and kissed his cheek. you were grateful to have him. very grateful.

“thanks rinnie,” you muttered, hoping he would look back at you. which he did.

though he didn’t reply, he just shook his head and kissed your forehead in return; opening your side of the car so you would get in before getting in his side of the car.

“so, lemme guess. you mixed up the numbers?” your boyfriend side eyes you, turning on the car along with the heater.

your lips formed a thin line, pressing them together. he was right. you nodded your head and avoided eye contact.

“‘m sorry..” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

rin sighs, shaking his head. you think he would give you the silent treatment, oh how you were so wrong.

he cups your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look up at him without avoiding eye contact. your eyes linger, looking at his orbs.

teal.

the eyes that held all the cold, and seriousness in the word. especially when it was on the field. yet he would never show that side with you.

because he loves you, he adores you. you’re always there when he needs you. there is never a time where he doesn’t see you at his games, cheering him on with everything you’ve got in you.

it’s cute.

he owes you everything. he knows you deserves the world. something as little as this situation isn’t something worth to be stressed out over.

“love, it’s okay.” he murmurs, interlocking his lips with the tip of your nose. he hopes it helps lighten the mood with you.

“next time, just wait for me to pick you up. kay?” he continues, cupping your cheek with one hand. you look up at him in shock. no lecture??

“you’re not gonna lecture me for this? woah!” you gasp, e/c orbs getting brighter.

he chuckles and shakes his head, turning away softly to get the engine of his car starting, not before checking if your seat belt was on.

like always, it’s not on. and you don’t even notice it, even when he groans.

that’s before he moves over to your side to put your seat belt on for you, making sure the strap wasn’t too tight.

“ohhh.. whoops!” you nervously scratch the back of your neck, smiling up at him.

“tch, idiot. i really am the reason to why you’re safe all the time.” a playful smirk appears on his lips, as he drives away from the train station.

you huff and roll your eyes, denying it over and over “no, only sometimes!” you affirmed, noticing how he looks at you with a sarcastic expression.

rin rose his eyebrows, giving you the ‘are ya sure?’ look.you sighed, knowing he was mostly right.

“okay, maybe most times..” he grins, taking your hand into his whilst he drives.

[angelsunoo]

Can we get riki x reader argument with happy ending pls we love angst guys 😍

HI ANONNNNNN im currently on a break (or we could say inactive lolol) rn, but i could push this in!!!! I love angst too btw MY BIAS YALLLLL

+ school just started again sooo ive been really busy

ARGUMENT / n.rk.

PAIRINGS bf!riki x reader

GENRE requested, angst, fluff YUHHH

ABOUT you had an argument with your boyfriend.

WARNING swearing, argument. Reader is a bit possessive. All of these are a work of fiction. Ignore the cringe ass usernames in Twitter 😰

It was 7:30 pm. You were up scrolling thru twitter, frowning at every post that bitch made. Why the hell is she acting like Riki is her boyfriend?

You had a scowl on your face. 'Why are u so cute'.

They went on an arcade together. You audibly scoff. He declined your offer to go out with him just to be with that?

Honestly. That's ridiculous. Maybe I should unfollow her. She doesn't deserve my follow.

While you were thinking about ways to murder her, you were unaware that someone just arrived home.

"Hey, Y/N. " you jolt, nearly throwing your phone in the air.

"What the fuck.. " you curse out, placing your hand on your heaving chest. "Don't you know how to knock?" Your eyes widen. You didn't expect to sound so harsh.

"Oh, sorry if I surprised you." He rubs the nape of his neck. Your frown deepens. That's all he has to say? Ugh.

"You went to the arcade with Lei?" You crossed your arms, still with frown displaying your face.

He doesn't answer for a while, he was pulling out the tickets he earned from playing. He got a cute plushie too.

"Uh . Yeah." He casually says, still not giving you eye contact.

"Riki, look at me."

He looks at you with a confused look. "Why do you sound mad? Did I do something wrong?"

"Yeah. You did." You roll your eyes. Wow, does he really not see what's going on?

"What did I do?" He approaches you. He places his hands on your arms. In attempt to soothe you.

You backed away, causing him to let go of you, while your arms remained crossed. "You chose her over me."

"What do you mean?" He asks, with confusion. "Are you jealous I went out with her?" He shoots you a playfull grin, that was quickly removed by your hard glare.

"I'm not joking, riki." You cross your arms. Can't he read the room. You were genuinely upset, and it made you more upset that he failed to notice it. He doesn't respond, and stashed his tickets in a drawer.

"Hello???" You call out, peeking over to what he's doing. "Stop ignoring me asshole."

"What? I'm the asshole?" He glared back at you. Your eyes widen.

"Oh! So you're the one who's mad now." Your tone was a bit higher and harsh. He turns to you, mimicking your actions from earlier, crossing his arms.

"Literally, give me a break Y/N." He says, "She's just a friend. Why do you worry so much?"

"Excuse me? I'm no way near 'worried'." You retort, making air quotation marks with your fingers. "I'm just upset you declined my offer to go out!"

"Oh, then fucking swallow your pride and accept the fact I said no to you! You can't stand it it when someone refuses you, can you? You're being all bitchy to me this late at night." He raises his voice, his tone now also becoming harsher. "She's just a friend. Please don't make me say it again.." He walks away angrily. Leaving you in shock. You didn't mean it that way.

You're just....

"Riki! Come back here!" You shout. He doesn't reply and slams the door behind him. You feel water start to form around your eyes. You never seen him this furious to you.

Now you worry how you're going to sleep at night without his warmth radiating beside you on your bed.

You could barely sleep at night. Why?

Well...

1. You couldn't sleep without him

2. You feel guilty for being a total bitch last night.

3. You are worried of where he might have gone. Did he go to his friend's place? Where did he sleep?

4. Your worried on how your going to talk to him the next day.

This is bad.

Maybe I should text him?

You open your phone, a bit hesitant to text him. You were really ashamed of what you did last night.

Maybe I should just talk to him in school.

You arrived in school, nervously tapping your foot on the smooth marble floor.

Your eyes searched for him.

"Oh riki..." you whisper, your tone being impatient.

After a few minutes of waiting, you finally spotted him, walking with his older friend, Jungwon.

You suddenly feel shy to approach him, the image of his angry face still stuck in your mind made you feel so guilty and ashamed.

You realized your mistake. You shouldn't have been too dramatic yesterday. Riki can hangout with anyone he likes.

But to admit, his words kind of hit you too.

You gave up the idea of talking to him. You feel to ashamed to face him.

Riki on the other hand, is dying to see you again. He misses your embrace and your kisses.

He felt really bad for what he said and he wanted to apologize. He saw you earlier, you looked somewhat nervous? He was going to approach you but you just suddenly left. He thought you didn't want to see his face.

"Yo Riki!" He turns to see who called him, it was jake.

"Oh hey hyung." He said. Jake raises his brow, a bit confused with riki's unusual attitude.

"Hey, what happened?" Jake asked, caressing riki's back slowly.

"I.. I had a fight with Y/N. I said really mean things to her and now I don't think she wants to talk to me," riki says so nonchalantly, but in actuality, he wanted to scream and cry right on the spot.

"Well, you should talk to her," jake says, and riki rolls his eyes.

"Are you serious? I literally told you she didn't wanna talk to me."

"Nuh-uh! You said 'I think'. So means you're not sure if she wants to talk to you or not."

"It's just that... It could've gone a different way. Maybe If i didn't scream at her then maybe she wouldn't be mad at me?" He says unsurely, not knowing what to do. He misses you so much and just wished he was hugging you right now.

It was lunchtime, you said to your friend that you can eat alone. You placed your food tray with a heavy heart.

Sigh.

"Gosh, this day can't get any worse." You mumble, feeling no apetite to eat your food.

While you were busy playing with your food, you didn't know that someone sat infront of you.

"Hey, y/n. " you removed your gaze from your food to look who just sat infront you.

"O-oh! Riki..what you doing here?" You say trying to act casual, but he was able to see right through you.

"Why? Can't I sit with my girlfriend?" He playfully smirks at you, once he saw your red and flustered face.

God, y/n. Why are blushing at that?

"You've been playing with your food," he points out, "why don't I feed you, hm?"

You knew by his tone that he was teasing, and decided to play along.

Finally, he's yours again— I mean-! He has always been.

..

The end

[blahhhhhhhohmigosh]

From Roasting too Teasing

A/n: I'm sorry it's been sooo long I made comics but I give ya this I thought of that really early in the morning soo here it is.(btw idk if the roasts I made are roasts so apologies if I did something wrong)

Love: Plantonic this means no Lovley dovely love BFFR they are brothers. They should not date.

Characters: Lee Donnie Ler Leo

Summary: Leo and Donnie have a roasting fight but it goes too far so Leo decides to switch the sides for his brother.

Warnings: tickle Fluff, Maybe some agnst?? ( I still don't get the Agnst thing is it if somebody has a traumatic experience or is it when something negative happens in the story)

It was dinner time, Leo and Donnie stopped eating as they were arguing about pineapple on pizza.

💙:Don come onnn, pineapple on pizza is good!!

💜:Pfft maybe for your dumb dumb brain, no wonder you're taste nerves are crashed up, cuz ya brain is too dumb to even think about how does it taste.

💙: Did YOU just roast ME?!

💜:Yep, did ya hear that or are you deaf brother?

💙:OH it's ONN, yep I did hear that I am not deaf, but I am defenetly not blind cuz I can see you're forehead of yours is really big brother.

💜:Yeah, Like your bad puns.

💙:*Gasp* HOW DARE YOU, YOUR BRAIN IS AS BAD AS THE PUN'S BROTHER!!

💜:Well I atleast have a smart brain unlike your's

💙:AT LEAST I HAVE A COOL MYSTIC WEAPON WHILE YOU HAVE YOUR DUMB TECH!!

There was silence in the room, Leo took the dumb thing personally but knew it was a joke, on the other hand Donnie did took that tech thing personally. Donnie was speechless and just looked at his brother as his eyes started to get glossy from the tears that have been rushing into his eyes.

💙:Donnie- I-

💜:Save it.

Donnie said before he went to his room and blocked his door so nobody whould come in, he was angry and upset, he lied down on his bed and scrolled through tiktok but the thing is that he had mostly tiktoks about tech so that didn't help much, Leo on the other hand felt the guilt run through his mind as he whanted to apologize but knew it wouldn't be easy, so he decided to switch the roasting battle to something the opposite of roasting, teasing, and not teasing to annoy, (but- well ya will see what I mean later).

Leo took his magic sword and teleported to Donnies room, he saw him on the bed as a tear rolled down from Donnies eyes as he scrolled down his tiktok fyp, when he saw Leo, he got annoyed and just tried to ignore him.

💙:D...im sorry I got carried away, your tech isn't dumb, it's original and it's amizing, I loved every single tech of yours you ever made.

💜:Didint ya say mine tech was?-

💙:Dumb?

💜:yeah...

💙:D I'm sorry I never whanted to make you upset, but ik just the way to help you~

💜:OH yeah? What is it?

Leo pulls Donnie into a hug, Donnie gets annoyed but hugs him back, but then Donnie could feel something slightly and softley tickling his plastron.

💜:WhA- LEHEHEOO nHO-

💙:What? Oh whait a second- oh wow! Your laughter is soo cool and amizing!! Just like your tech!!

💜:NardHOHO- NHOO-

💙:Just telling the truth~ anyways your tactics when you make a weapon are soo COOL! Just like when your tactics of running away...ya know?~

Leo was starting to tickle Donnie more as Donnie tried to get out of his grip.

💜:NAHAHARDHOHO NHOHO-

💙:Wooow why r ya squirming around? Heh ya look like those silverfish! Whait- oh that YOU defeated???

Donnie started blushing from the complements(in a brotherlyway NOT IN A ROMANTIC WAY) while Leo's mouth was rushing with the complements for like 5 minutes until he saw that Donnie had enough and he stopped tickling him, Donnie took as much breath as he could while Leo was just hugging him and still complementing him.

💜:Nardo- if ya say another complement i-

Donnie said with some left over giggles and a mischievous grin like he is planning something, he planed and he knew what he will do next and what his twin will do next.

💙:Your our amizing brother and we love you just the way you ar-

💜:Yeah that's it- ya whant to complement mine tech! Let's see them in action shall we brotha???

He said as he tapped something on his wrist bracelet screen (HELP IDK WHAT ITS CALLED ;-:) and from his bo-shell came out 2 robotic arms that Pinned Leo to the bed as Donnie smirked evilishly, Leo on the other hand gulped and knew what's coming.

Lets say the night was BUILDING WITH LAUGHTER (pun intended, cuz it's about his tech? Get it? Nvm-).

[pinkyjulien]

Yesterday's modding session got me pretty frustrated, I wasted so much time and was feeling overall pretty shit. Woke up feeling a bit violent, so to calm my nerves and get some serotonin I decided to check some old posts of mine over my old blog @pinkydude

This blog got flagged last year, I was always upset about this, especially cause I always suspected the fandom to be the cause by mass-reporting it

Well, today I got confirmation that this was indeed the case, so from the bottom of my heart

Fuck you

And especially Fuck You to all the passive homophobic pieces of SHIT that couldn't handle a fictional character's queerness, y'all are fucking pathetic HGFHH

NOW For more context; one thing I loved to do back in the day was to share some of Pawel's streams, pics and videos in majority.

A lot of people didn't liked his streams mainly because of "the favoritism"; the Sasko Sunday streams became an habit for a lot of us, watching him for literal years, he recognized our names and we had "inside jokes" in streams with the community there. You can see why some people felt jealous and became nasty about it.

There's a lot to be said about people feeling "left out" of something they don't even willingly participate in, the streams were always public and anyone could join at anytime they'd want to, but I disgress.

His streams were always really interactive; we would ask questions about the story, the characters, and Pawel would reply and give us insight, BTS infos, hints and other cool crumbs!

Pawel eventualy had to stop most of his interaction with the community because he was being HARASSED by SOME PEOPLE on Twitter openly tagging him about his "favoritism" and even sending letters to HQ complaining about it.

Back to my old flagged blog; We can't search up tags on flagged blogs, it becomes really hard to look up for anything there, we can't access the archives either Friendo gave me this tip months ago; if you have a pinned post, simply add tags to it and you'll be able to click them, like a lite "search box"

So that's what I did this morning, in bed, on my lil phone, adding "pawel sasko" to my pinned to go through my old stream posts!

And imagine my surprise while scrolling down past the majority of my posts being flagged for...... sexual content??

Now I recognized these posts simply by the comments and reblog on them, they are nothing sexual. Y'know what they are?

Posts about Mitch! Of course, who else, it always goes back to him doesn't it? All the drama, all the bullshit this fandom ever gave me alwaaays goes back to him.

So anyway, I couldn't see these posts on Mobile, but I can actually see them on desktop, so let's see what The Fandom TM wanted to take down sooo bad

My post about Mitch's database being fixed Nothing surprising here, I'm the reason Mitch's database got fixed and people didn't NOT like that at all!

Of course this one would get reported too We're starting to get a better picture of who went on a reporting rampage.

Pawel comfirming that they left hints of Mitch being gay on purpose in game? Of course it'd get flagged too

Pawel reacting to my stuff in general? Boom

They even went as far as to report my FIRST ever post about Pawel, when I talked on his streams for the first time back in 2021.

We all know who could've been so butthurt about all this that they went on a flagging spree ghfhg fucking PATHETHIC oh my god

Anyway, y'all have a nice day ✌😩

[yallemagne]

New fuckin' Helluva Boss dropped and.

*whistles*

Fuckers gave me so much to pause and read. At least I didn't have to translate runes this time iojpger. But legitimately, the visual storytelling is cool. I did just... sit down after the ep and go on a monologue about how much the texting says about Blitz and Stolas...

Stolas gets a notification on his phone at the very start of the episode [0:22] for a "Deal @ Ozzie's Set" in 3 days. I have mentioned in a previous post (*cough* my only other Helluva post *cough*) that Stolas plans to give Blitz an Asmodean crystal as a substitute for the Grimoire. So, that's probably what the meeting is about, just to get that crystal made so he can give it to Blitz and let the man have his business, no strings attached.

In texts sent directly after the events of Ozzie's [17:24], he tries to reach out and make amends with Blitz for the events of the night:

"You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. But maybe I read too much into that, I'm glad if that's not the case. I wasn't upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren't and obviously you can handle any stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, but I thought it was pretty funny myself. What he said about me at least, I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over."

sooo much insecurity. Though he is very worried, he tries not to come across as too clingy or as if he thinks Blitz can't fend for himself. He calls Fizzarolli's mockery "stupid joke[s] a clown can make". If he even remembers Fizzarolli from his childhood (who knows, he didn't seem to pay much attention to him), he would remember that Fizzarolli was more beloved by the audience. Meanwhile, Stolas was the only one who appreciated Blitz's strange humour. By dismissing Fizzarolli's jokes as stupid, he puts Blitz's humour above his more successful counterpart.

He also tries to say that he wasn't upset by the jokes made at his expense to assure Blitz that he's not ashamed of him. But he was upset, just not for the reason that hurt Blitz. He was upset that Ozzie reduced his first somewhat happy relationship to nothing more than a sex thing that tore his family apart.

At the end, there, he tries to cover up his worry by making a sex joke, because emotional weakness is not the norm in their relationship. An honest try, but all the uncertainty would read as insincerity to an outsider.

Stolas has been very anxious about holding Blitz to his part of the deal they made (exchanging sexual favours for the Grimoire each month), and in the texts he scrolls past, he offers to let Blitz keep the book for longer spans of time, even suggesting that he just pickup/dropoff the book with no sexual exchange needed whatsoever.

All the while, Blitz's responses are always curt and misspelled. Either he just has a writing quirk he commits to or he never learned how to spell properly and taught himself to do so phonetically-- which is likely considering his upbringing. Though he could get the resources to learn now, pride might be a motivation for why he hasn't. Either way, his short responses show his unwillingness to meet Stolas' level of vulnerability. Could also be that he's in the middle of killing people.

Oh, also, his "Git bevver swoon :(" is the only instance of Blitz texting Stolas first. Stolas replies first with genuine appreciation ("Thank you Blitz, that means a lot." one of the only times he has called him "Blitz" and not "Blitzy") and then an invitation for him to visit him in the hospital, masked with innuendo ("I might be here a while, if you ever want to visit. ❤️"). Blitz types a message but deletes it, once more unwilling to match Stolas' vulnerability, but also not wanting to humour the innuendo.

Also, words can't describe how disappointed I was that the episode ended on ANOTHER sombre note and not Blitz crashing in through the window. I was so confident that Blitz had stopped typing because he decided to visit Stolas (and, of course, he would choose the window because he couldn't get past the front desk). Ugh. Every single damn episode has been ending on either a threatening or a sombre note, bring back the last-second punchlines for some diversity!!

There's more I could say but that would be straying from the written messages. And none of my followers care about this ijopeg.

[colorisbyshe]

i really don’t want to read the seven husband of eleanor hugo but i want to know what happens. why is it so bad like i assumed it would be but i need to hear the exact specific shitty details!!! (if you don’t mind sharing)

*Evelyn Hugo, not Eleanor

(Scroll down to my TLDR section if this is too much)

But... to start off, I need to stay that it's written by a straight, white woman and it is about... a lot of women of color. And the "soulmate" relationship in the book is about a lesbian and a bisexual woman and the bisexual woman is best friends with a gay man.

So, the author is writing about a lot of things she doesn't... really have experience with. I've given my complicated opinion on "Own Voices" which is that it CAN be okay to write outside of your own identity but the onus is on you to get it very, very right. This book... doesn't.

But beyond it just handling race and sexuality HORRIBLY, including a weird line where a gay man admits to always ~a little bit~ wanting to sleep with the bisexual lead and the biracial interviewer admitting she preferred her white husband because he never made her feel like she wasn't black enough (which is VERY odd for a white author to throw in, it made me viscerally uncomfortable).

The book is just... not good. It is EVERY SINGLE "Old hollywood wasn't glamorous, you have to sleep your way to the top and sell your soul" cliche but like... updated to include gay people. The main character's first marriage has domestic violence and her "soulmate' relationship with teh lesbian has the EXACT same patterns of abuse except it's emotional abuse and not physical abuse nad it's just... excused as like? Oh, you know how she can get sometimes...

There's a weird plot where the lesbian is UPSET that her bisexual gf won't be out (WHILE THE LESBIAN GF IS ALSO CLOSETED) IN THE 60S. She's like "Okay, so we might be jailed or forcibly institutionalized and lose our careers, but if you REALLY LOVE ME, you won't be closeted" WHICH IS INSANE. ANd part of the patterns of abuse in the relationship.

The book is fucking boring. It's slog of cliches just mixed in with "But I love this woman so much" even though their love is never really established, just stated. And what we see is the abuse.

There's a VERY weird plot twist where the main character reveals the interviewer's (black) father didn't die from driving drunk. Instead, the black father wa sin a relationship with Evelyn's white gay best friend and the white gay best friend drove drunk, KILLED the dad, and Evelyn moved his dead body to make it seem liek her dad killed himself.

And she knew it was her dad because... he VERY conveniently wrote out a letter saying "I'm a dad, I love my kid, I am also gay for you, but my wife is my platonic soulmate. My name ___. I love you" and the white guy (WHO WAS THE ONE WHO KILLED HER DAD) had the ltter in his pocket?

A VERY weird contrivance.

More weirdness: the book stops, COMPLETELY, to go on SEVERAL like basic diatribes about how like bi erasure is bad, the word whore is used by men to control women, and other like... baby's first feminism lectures. And it feels SOOO proud of itself.

It also stops to be like "You know every historical event between the 50s and present day? Yeah, Evelyn was on the right side of hsitory EVERY time despite being money hungry, dehumanizing to other people, fairly fucking awful to her (Latina) staff, and never once mentioned her politics until the author remembered she was alive during stonewall and the AIDS crisis and that she needed to maek sure you knew Evelyn cared."

The injection of real world events kinda curdled my stomach. Also, the author made sure to say that it was MEN at the frontlines of Stonewall and it's like ???????????????????? Okay, work. Also, die maybe?

The characters are all horrible people but not evne in interesting ways. There's no like complex politics to it. There's not even real nuance to it. It's just like "Evelyn likes to use people but she had to, so it's okay." Which I could get with if she wasn't so otherwise FLAT.

Also, I know this isn't a well organized complaint list, but can I say it is INSANE that the ENTIRE book is about how Evelyn has HUUUGE honkers and htat's why everyone gravitates towards her or forgives her or wants to use her. And then she gets breast cancer and the interviewer thinks "Isn't it funny that the things that got her so far are killing her" and I knooow it's meant to be some like ironic twist of fate thing but idk... it really feels like misogyny. It feels like comeuppance or some weird shit and it made me UNCOMFORTABLE.

TO PUT IT BRIEFLY:

The book is insanely boring and cliche. It is every "Hollywood is SCARY" cliche ever but thinks it's differentiating itself by involving LGB people and people of color but, because it is written by a straight, white woman, it cannot do that well. Every time it tries to smugly diatribe about sexuality, gender, race, class it gets it wrong and makes you feel like you're slowly going insane.

No one cahracter is interesting. The main romance is abusive but doesn't know it's abusive, despite spending entire chapters on how ANOTHER relationship is abusive.

The book is soulless. Isn't particularly well written. Thinks it's smarter and more charming than it is. No one is likeable. No one is funny or sweet.

It runs on shock value but nothing is shocking. IT's the same stupid mistakes over and over again withou tanyone EVER realizing what the REAL mistakes are.

It's bad.

[angelizs]

I have so many thoughts I haven’t had the chance to jot down to share with you so take this list with a few of them X3

•Personally I much prefer giving Yuu headcanons to make them their own person instead of projecting: I honestly just find it fun I feel as though self inserts are better for when you want to feel as if you are in the story due to Yuu already having certain traits attributed to them in canon (how they get described as very blunt for example is a canon trait that gets said multiple times!!!) •I’m actually a huge fan of the hc that Floyd hates when people point out how him and Jade are polar opposites or when people refer to Jade as the “better” twin. It adds more layers onto their personalities and from experience it doesn’t feel great when people compare you to your siblings using something with a negative connotation •I 100% hc that Idia has a vitamin D deficiency (maybe I’m projecting onto him but it totally fits him) he never goes outside nor does he have a proper diet and those are basically a match made in heaven for a vitamin D deficiency •It’s time for me to make a confession… I don’t like Leona XD he just never appealed to me if I’m being totally honest I almost always skip Book 2 when I’m rewatching the Books because I just couldn’t get into his backstory and generally still can’t (He’s such a fan favorite I’m sorry to admit it I just can’t personally find interest in his story) •We need more canon Cater x Trey angst just imagine “Cater… you know you can talk to me if you’re ever upset right?” Trey expressed in a worried tone as Cater turned with a surprised expression covering his face he furrowed his eyebrows “Why? Aww~ are you worried about me~♥️” Cater teased in a cheerful tone. Though, it was hard to miss the quiver of his lips and his shaking hands. He flashed Trey a smile then went back to humming what must have been a trending audio on Magicam that Trey hadn’t heard while scrolling down his feed. As he analyzed Cater’s features he couldn’t help but notice how deep his eye bags were without makeup to cover them: the glossy look in his eyes implied that he was on the verge of tears even so he still forced his cheeks to form a grin that seemed almost painful. Of course he didn’t want to force Cater to open up, but everytime he tried to help him all he was met with were the same cheery voice, shaky hands, and plastered smile. (super sorry if that sucked I don’t generally write for Trey and I haven’t written anything in a while because of college XO)

Hope you enjoyed reading my thoughts as much as I enjoyed writing them !!- 🦭

HII 🦭 ANON, I GOT SO HAPPY SEEING THIS ASK!!! I LOVED READING YOUR THOUGHTS, THANKS FOR SHARING WITH ME!! I'll comment about each of them under the cut!!

• experimenting with Yuu's personality is so much fun! taking their canon traits to create a full fledged character can be quite entertaining, trying to create them based on their answers on the story! tho I also like creating a yuusona based more as a self insert at times, too! (if you have any Yuu hcs you'd like to share anon, I'm all ears!)

• SOOO TRUE, Floyd and Jade break a common trope with twins within fiction in which they are basically the same person and I love that for them. all the little differences that set them apart and make them their own person are so charming! also, I'm pretty sure there's one vignette in which Floyd mentions how he doesn't like being compared to Jade, especially in a negative connotation. (I can't really remember which one it is now tho... I'm pretty sure it exists ok!!)

• ANON YOU'RE SO RIGHT THAT'S CANON !!! as an Idia kinnie who also has vitamin D deficiency I can confirm it's true.

• LMAO that's fair anon, you can like whoever you'd like! he was one of my favorites at the start lol it might be because I LOVEEE the Lion King, but I can see how his attitude can get on your nerves. there are also some things I'd change about his development (and about chapter 2, too). there's a lot to analyse about him as he's very complex and that still appeals to me, but not as much as it used to as I got to meet other characters who ended up climbing the ladder of my heart and surpassing him.

• OMG A WHOLE SCENARIO FOR FREE?? THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!! and I agree, more Cater x Trey content would be very nice!

Trey trying to reach out to him tentatively while also giving him space while Cater continues to hold his nonchalant façade and pretend everything is alright, keeping his walls up to not let him close enough to see him vulnerable, even as he's hurting..... THEMMM 😭😭😭

it didn't suck at all anon, in fact I really liked it!! I'd love to read more of your writing <3

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

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

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

“I thought he was cool before.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kinda do—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

epi-epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sunookkii]

hey i know request are closed but this idea just got stuck in my mind and i wanted you to write sum about it if you like it 😭 so basically its an enha reaction/scenario ? where they forget your birthday, (maybe not in a bad way but i dont mind if its angst) hope ur good btw !! <3

a/n : OMG WAIT SRY TO ALL THE OTHER REQUESTS BUT THIS ONE FOR SUM REASON REALLY STUCK OUT TO ME i hope you enjoyyy ;) also I wrote so much I’m so sorry- [not really read proof~]

Also i am well ty for asking >.<

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.enhypen imagine ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Enhypen forgetting your bday~

Genre : angsty ish

Warnings : mentions of food, crying, one swear word??

Requested : yes ty beautiful person ;)

Heeseung :

Okay okay so its your birthdayyy and you were really excited for what to happen because you wanted to see what kind of surprise your boyfriend did for your birthday

But to your luck he forgot :(

So you spent all day giving him hints like ‘what day is it’ and at one point you gave up and started pouting really hard

And your face was just overall sad everyone else had remembered your birthday including the members, but for your boyfriend to forget it lowkey hurt

Almost half the day passed and he still didn’t remember

So you ended up going into the room by yourself and started to cry

Your whimpers got louder and louder even though you were trying your best to stay quiet so he doesn’t hear

A few minutes past by and heeseung started looking for you because he sensed something was wrong.

He looked on the calendar really really carefully and FINALLY he came to his realization that it was your birthday but it was kinda too late cuz you hid yourself in your room to cry.

He came into your room to wish you a happy birthday but he sees you curled up into a ball crying to yourself

He felt so bad after this happened, “IM SO SORRY IM SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME I WONT EVER GORGET AGAIN!”

He hugs you so tight as if your life depended on it, won’t leave you out of his sight for the rest of the day. You’ll be hearing a lot of hbds and ilys for the rest of the day~

^ so yeah 🤕

Jay :

I feel like it’s rare that he forgets these type of dates buut for the sake of tumblr lets pretend he completely forgot 😧

You woke up in a great mood because it was your birthday of course

You were expecting to be receive a hbd wish from your boyfriend, but nope nothing all morning.

You received a bunch of hbd wishes on Instagram and other platforms mentioning you, but none of them were from jay :(

You quickly got frustrated and because it was your birthday and your bf the person you love most didn’t remember really hurt

So gradually your face became wet from heated silent tears. But unlike heeseung he would super quickly notice because he’s on his phone a lot and he dates things like ‘y/ns bday’ (idk but I imagine him dating things on his phone)

He’d then be like OH SHIT ITS YN’s BD

Runs to you soooooo quick just to see your face red and a bit wet.

Once your eyes connected your tears started to come out quicker

He literally runs up to you to hug you HAPPY BIRTHDAY DARLING I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IM SO SORRY I FORGOT

After he said that he ran away from you leaving you alone, which made your heart drop thinking that he didn’t care.

But once you finally came out of your room you were greeted with a homemade delicious cake your boyfriend made for you that looked like this

You could tell he felt really bad bc usually he always had a smile on his face while cooking but this time it was a ‘I’m sorry’ face

“I’m really really sorry please forgive me”

All was forgiven bc the cake tasted so mf ing good

Jake :

It was your birthday today, a day that only came once a year so like any other human being it’s a special day for you

You were super excited to see what Jake did for you, because every birthday you had with him was always such a surprise

But today was sort of… different? :(

You saw jake in the living room on the tv and went straight up to him with a smiley face. “GOOODMORNINGGG” 😁

After cuddling for a while on the couch you lifted up your head and asked him If he knew what day it was, he just replyed with a simple Wednesday? With a confused face

I’m pretty sure that one word was enough to make you pretty upset 😅🥲

You started to pout and went back into his chest with a disappointed face.

“Ahh what what, what day is it tell me?” He said playfully, not realizing it was your birthday.

You stayed silent as he checked his phone, ‘y/n’s birthday don’t forget’

When i tell you he gasped he GASPED.

You were already in the verge of tears “IM SO SORRY HBD BABY”

You were still a bit upset at him so you replied with ‘did you really need your phone to tell me what day it was’ 😕

He hugs you tighter while mumbling ‘hbd hbd hbd’

Suddenly let you go of his arms and said he had an errand. Without any explanation he got his car keys to go somewhere leaving you and your thoughts by yourself.

‘Does he not love me anymore that he doesn’t even want to spend time with me on my birthday? ☹️😭”

A while later he comes back and you’re luckily still on the couch where he left you

^^this dude came back with three beautiful cakes from your local cake stores. “I’m bacccckkkk!! please forgive meeeee you know i love you with all my heart 🥺” (okay i hate to use this emoji but there isn’t any other way to describe it TT)

You obviously forgave him because you know it was never his intention to forget,,, “you owe me hugs and kisses for the rest of the day :(“ kindly accepts your request because that is something he’d never complain about #freecuddlesfromyn

Sunghoon :

Okay but like hear me out he’s the type of boyfriend that would ‘pretend’ he forgot your birthday but he actually didn’t

So when he ACTUALLY forgot you just thought he was joking until…

“Hooonieeee, stop joking around I’m seriouss”

“I’m serious too i seriously don’t know what day it is”

“What…”

You leave him for a bit alone with his thoughts, not even gna lie if he did end up forgetting your bday it would take him a while to remember it

But once he remembers he feels so bad 😭

Tackles you with so many hugs and bday kisses and showers you with I’m sorrys and hbd wishes

genuinely ask himself how he forgot the lohls birthday (love of his life’s) literally beats himself for it

And you have to tell him that it’s fine and that you forgive him~

Brings out the birthday cake and sings you a happy birthday song while clapping and laughing.

Puts cake on your nose

Sunoo :

Idk if he’s the type to forget but like jay I don’t think he’d forget

I feel like to him birthdays are the MOST special thing/ date for a person

Like obviously the rest of the members think that but especially sunoo really like sticks to this

So if he had forgotten your birthday you were sooo hurt you ignored him the whole day keeping your distance until he finally remembered

Once he remembered he went to go find you ASAP where you were hiding int he corner of the bedroom moping

He showers you with hugs cuddles kisses pecks, you name it he does it

He feels so bad that he could forget smtg like this, literally asks himself how he could forget such an important date

If the convenience store was still open he’d run to the nearest store and surprise you with a birthday cake. But not just any cake it’d be a cake that was decorated by the one and only Kim Sunoo

Would prepare it so nicely and even have a lit up candle so you can wish on it.

the type to surprise you with it even though he forgot. Brings it to your room while singing the hbd song.

Puts cake frosting on your nose #2, takes lots and lots of pictures to post on insta later

caption : “happy birthday sunshine~”

Jungwon :

he was on the couch as per usual just scrolling through his phone to keep himself occupied but also updated

Not knowing what day it was,,,,,,,

you come outside of your bedroom excitedly to expect a wishful happy birthday wish from the person you love most

But for some reason it oddly seemed like a normal day

“Wonnniiieee my loveeee, guess what day it is!” You said with a sheepish smile

“Hmm wednesday?” He said looking up at you with a calm face

Your happy smile soon became a little pout

“You really don’t know?”

“Isn’t it just a regular Wednesday? Why is there something special?”

oh my- he broke your heart right then and there

You run back into your room because you feel heated tears about to fall, even though it was something small the thought of him not remembering your birthday the day of your birth hurt. A little.

Jungwon was actually super clueless he genuinely didn’t know what day it is but something about you seemed off and the way you ran to your room was quite odd to him so he went and followed you

Before he opened the door he already heard small whimpers from the corner of the bed, and that immediately triggered him and he was about to beat up anyone that made you feel sad 😠 little did he know it was him who made you feel that way

“Baby what’s wrong? Why are you crying”

He holds your chin and turns it to get a better look

wiping your tears with his thumb, you were being a dramatic his giggles make you feel a bit better even though you were mad at him for forgetting

“You forgot my birthday.” You said to him while crying

You can literally see the gears in his brain start to turn when his face went from 😄 -> 😳

“IM SO SORRY IM SO SORRY” hugs you so tight that you literally can’t breathe

Doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better, “I’m really sorry for forgetting your birthday, I don’t really know what got into me, please forgive me.”< cue the cutest kitty puppy eyes

He kept on rambling on abt how he was sorry and deserves your forgiveness you literally had to shut him up, he was sorry please forgive him >~<

Cuddles you for the rest of the day

Niki :

He was playing video games normally on his phone, until you excitedly stormed into his room “hiiiii babbbbyyyy”

“Well someone is happy today :)”

“Well of course bc u know what day it isss ;)”

“Wednesday?”

😧😦 < that’s what you looked like when he didn’t know, “you really don’t remember?”

“hmm I’m not too sure” he said before going back to his game

you slowly became disappointed and just ‘celebrated’ your birthday by yourself in the kitchen. :,((

he didn’t notice that you were sad at first bc he was busy playing on his phone, around an hour later he went to the kitchen to get a snack when he sees you in the kitchen staring into space rested your chin on you arm.

‘Are you okay? You seemed fine earlier’

You decided to play the silent game and just avoided him... so he tried to get you to talk to him but after a while it didn’t work so he sort of gave up and went to ask his hyungs what’s wrong with you.

“Niki,,, it’s y/n’s birthday omg did you forget??????” Jake said texting niki

and that’s when the lightbulb in his brain turned on

He rushed to the kitchen and back hugged you so tight and gave you so many cheekie kissies to try and make up for ‘forgetting’

But to his luck you were still mad at him

Soooo he came up with the idea of going to the convenience store really quick to get you a bunch of flowers and a nice cake to surprise you~

You ended up forgiving him because he was tickling you threatening you to forgive him

N knowing Niki he’s not a person you can be mad at for long <3

[hangovercurse]

I’d Drop it All for You

Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.

Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety

A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)

Word Count: 1820

You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.

But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.

It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.

After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.

In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.

It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.

After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.

Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.

But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.

Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.

Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.

You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.

You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.

Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.

I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.

This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better

Who is she?!? Literally no one.

Someone needs to show her how to dress

That hairstyle is not it honey

Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better

Ari was prettier sorry not sorry

The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.

And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.

You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.

Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.

And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.

You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.

Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.

There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.

“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.

Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”

You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”

He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.

Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.

You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”

“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.

You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.

“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”

You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.

He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”

You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”

Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “

You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.

[pockyxx]

“ bento boxes part 2 ”

bokuto x reader, kenma x reader

genre: fluff. (a s/o who loves making them bento boxes!)

bokuto 

Bokuto loved eating and he loved it more when you would prepare his food for him. Of course, you enjoyed the process of putting together a bento box so it was really a win-win. 

Smiling down at today’s lunch, you made your way to the gym where the boys volleyball team was about to start a practice match. 

“Y/n!” Bokuto jumped in the air as soon as he saw you, rushing over like an excited puppy. His eyes trailed to the bento box in your hand and his smile only grew. 

“Hey Bo, I brought you your bento.” You returned the caring grin, handing over the box. Everything was fine until Bokuto noticed the small band-aide around your finger. 

“Baby what happened?!” He almost shrieked, making a bigger deal out of it that it needed to be. His hair dropped down and he look at you with a pout as you shook it off. 

“It’s nothing, babe, I just cut my finger cutting the fruit this morning.” You shrugged which almost caused Bokuto to explode. He then ran away, handing you back the bento as he ran to hide underneath a table. 

You knew about Koutarou had these moods swings but you’d never seen anything like this before and especially for seemingly no reason. From the corner of your eye you could see Akaashi’s eyes widen as he made his way over to you. 

“What just happened?” He asked you, running different scenario through his mind. You bit your lip, shaking your head. 

“He got upset when he saw the band-aide. I accidentally cut myself making his bento.” You stated, putting your hands against your mouth, realizing what had triggered his ‘emo mode.’ 

The team they were playing against started to pour in and Akaashi gave you a frantic look. 

“If I were you I’d go to him and fix him before the match starts.” The black haired setter looked to were his captain was huddled. You nodded, making you way to the small space Bokuto was hiding under. 

You crouched down to his level, placing the bento on the ground as you reached to take his hands away from his face. 

“I can’t believe you hurt yourself making me food.” He sniffled, “do you hate me now?” A tear slipped away from his eye and you were quick to shake your head, denying any such thing. 

“Of course not, it was an accident, Koutarou, why would that make me love you any less. I love you sooo much.” You leaned forward pressing a kiss onto the crown of his head. His mood changed drastically once again. 

“Y/n loves me!” He exclaimed, crawling out from his hiding spot. He took you in his arms, spinning you around like it was nothing and. The captain placed you down it was clear to see that your typical energetic Bokuto was back to normal.

“Now, if you win this game I’ll put extra meat in your bento tomorrow!” You explained, almost bribing him to do well. He nodded and just like an energetic dog, it was almost as if his tail was wagging. 

“Thanks for that.” Akaashi commented as Bokuto had serged onto the court, telling everyone how he was going to do well for that extra meat. 

kenma 

Getting Kenma to eat was a chore on it’s own. His parents along with Kuroo had been forcing him to sit down and have a meal. It wasn’t as if Kenma didn’t have an appetite, he was just a picky eater. 

Well, there was thing he liked eating; the bento boxes that you made for him almost everyday. It was also the only think that could get him off his phone. 

“Hey ken!” You sat down next to him your classroom, taking out both his bento box and your own. “Have you chosen what you’re going to do for the literature assignment?” 

The two of you went back and forth, conversing while you chowed down on the food that you prepared. 

“Lunch was really good today, thank you.” He said softly, “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. He shifted in his seat, taking his phone out of his pocket and setting it on the table as the break neared it’s end. 

“Oh course not! You know how much I love doing this.” You smiled so hard your eyes shut while a hand rested on top of Kenma’s. “Besides, it gives me peace of mind to know that you’re eating. 

Kenma blushed at that statement. It was true and his heart skipped a beat knowing that you had picked up his habits, even the bad ones. 

The bell rang, signaling that class was about to start. You went back to your seat, stealing a few stary glances at Kenma through out class. The rest of the school day went by quickly and soon you were walking side by side with your boyfriend. 

“Do you want to hang out after practice?” You intertwined your hands as you walked with him to the second year lockers. He nodded, sighing and to that you raised an eyebrow, beckoning him to elaborate. 

“Practice is just so... ugh.” He sighed and he waited for you as you put your shoes away. “Um, y/n. Can I asked you something?” He seemed hesitant. 

You laughed, reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to ask a question. 

“Oh, right. Well, anything I was wondering for lunch tomorrow, maybe I could have a few more pickled sour plums?” He was clearly nervous but you only responded with sounds of pure delight. 

Kenma was often quiet and never really found himself able to express to you what he wanted, so him asking for something imparticular made you smile. 

“Of course, babe! If you ever want something, don’t be shy to ask!” You placed a quick kiss to the side of his face making Kenma even more red.

“I’ll text you when practice is over, ‘Kay?”

“Mhm. I love you.” You said in his ear as you hugged him.

“Love you too.” It was barely loud enough to hear— but you heard it and couldn’t help but beam.

—

bonus:

“Kenma did you eat today?” Kuroo asked his during their first water break of practice. Kenma squinted his eyes,

“yes I did.” It had been a secret that you’d been feeding him delicious bentos each day at lunch, well he’d never mentioned it since none of them had asked.

“What did you eat?” Kuroo kept pressing, eyeing the younger setter.

“Tonkatsu with rice.” He stated, mindlessly scrolling on his phone while he had the chance. “Oh and some pickled sour plums.”

“Liar.” Kuroo hissed, “you never have pickled sour plums at your house.” Being neighbors and best friends often meant knowing what they had stalked in their fridge.

“It’s because it didn’t come out of my fridge, y/n made me lunch.”

“Huh?” The captain raised an eyebrow. Kenma huffed, not wanting to repeat himself.

“Y/n always makes me my lunches. Now can you stop bothering me with ‘did you eat today.’”

[justcourttee]

Call It What You Want-One Shot Song Prompt

So, I recently saw @marimacaron​ post this song prompt fic for daminette and I absolutely loved it and knew I had to try and write it! I hope it’s close to what you imagined :)

Marinette’s eyes fell to the glittering rock on her left hand, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she hit post on her computer. Within seconds, hundreds of comments and likes flooded her Instagram from fans and friends alike, most wishing her well for her engagement, a few earning a chuckle at their distress that she was now ‘off the market’.

She reached forward to shut her laptop when one comment in particular caught her eye.

@alyabloglyfe: Why are you still vying for attention? We all know @queenlyla is engaged to Damian Wayne, I mean, why would he be interested in a liar and bully like you?

Already, twenty fans were fighting the girl’s comment, dissing Alya and defending Marinette’s honor, but it didn’t seem to help the punch to the gut she was experiencing. Her fingers lingered over the keyboard, the room seeming to blur around her.

All of a sudden, she felt fifteen again, trapped in her bedroom only being able to scroll through the hate mail that flooded her inbox from all of her former friends. She thought that begging her parents to allow her to pull out of school and switch to an online platform would deter them from attacking her so often, but it only made things worse as they became more confident and vile in their bullying as they could hide behind a screen.

Every night, Marinette would cry herself to sleep wondering what she did so wrong to deserve all of this until one day she decided it would be enough. She deleted all of her social media, even taking down her MDC commissions page, asking her clients to meet her in person or via phone call to schedule fittings and commissions. And it worked, at least for a little while, until they started to vandalize her parent’s bakery, breaking windows and spray painting signs, the cops never seeming to catch them.

Her fingers tapped out the first sentence of her response, her eyes absentmindedly glazed over as she wrote a paragraph, then two, all directed to Alya. She was about to hit send when she felt a pair of arms snake around her shoulders, warm breath tickling the back of her ears.

“How’d your fans take the news?” his deep voice felt like a lifeline as she slammed her laptop shut, blinking away the empty feeling Alya had brought.

He let out a low whistle as he unwinded himself, allowing her to stand up from the desk and fall into his outstretched arms.

“That good, huh?”

She forced out a dry laugh as she buried her face into his chest.

“Just a few people upset that I’m officially a taken woman.”

It was his turn to laugh as she pulled back, taking in the sight of his carefree face. It was always so beautiful, so much peace that he held, all reserved for her.

“Do you have any plans tonight? You know Richard will want to host an exaggerant engagement feast.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile gave him away. She knew he secretly loved being the center of attention, especially when it came to his family.

“I’ll make sure to have everything done by 5 today, promise.”

Ducking under his arms, she slung her purse over her head, making a beeline for the door.

“Do you need Alfred to escort you?” he called after her retreating figure but it was too late, she was gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Exiting the fabric store, Marinette made her way down Gotham’s winding streets, her head in another place as she tried to recall anything she could’ve missed.

“This is why you should’ve brought your list with you Marinette!” Tikki popped their head out of her purse, their arms crossed in a scolding manner.

“I would have Tikki, but you know how overprotective he is. He would’ve insisted I waited for Alfred to come down to the apartment to drive me and no offense to Alfred, but sometimes a girl just wants to be alone.”

Her pace slowed as a familiar landscape came into her sight.

“Oh wow Tikki, I haven’t been here in almost three years.” her voice trailed off as she scanned over the construction crew working on the new gymnasium.

“Gotham Academy! This is where you transferred to right?”

She didn’t answer the small God as she took a step forward, placing a hand on the elegant banisters leading up the school stairs. The fresh scent of cleaning supplies filled her nostrils as she closed her eyes, her mind falling back to the comment from earlier.

She was only sixteen when her parents allowed her to transfer. It was in both of their best interests as they couldn’t afford to keep repairing the bakery her former friends destroyed. She was a mere shell of a person when she entered those doors for the first time. She had already decided that she wasn’t going to make any friends this time around, after all, no friends meant no one to stab her in the back, as they all do eventually.

But then something strange happened. The student who was assigned to show her around for the first week was just as cold and calculated. His thorns were just as sharp as hers, neither opening up much to the other. She had planned for warm and inviting, the fake friends trying to pry her open, but she hadn’t planned for someone to hold her attention, someone as cold as her.

One week turned into two, and then a month passed and she dared to consider him her friend.

“Marinette? Marinette? Are you still in there?”

She slowly opened her eyes to a concerned kwami, Tikki’s small hands shaking her nose to the best of their ability.

“I’m fine Tikki, just a bit of reminiscing I suppose.”

Continuing again, Marinette soon found herself in front of her studio. The little bell rang through the place as ten heads popped up, all wearing bright smiles. Unique almost tackled her in a hug before the door had even closed.

“Marinette! We were so excited when you posted this morning! It was sooo hard keeping your relationship a secret when customers asked!”

Hannah and Brooke nodded in agreement as the girls all left their work stations to admire her ring.

“Can we help you design your wedding dress?” Hannah clasped her hands together, earning a chorus of please’s throughout the room.

Marinette chuckled as she brought the women into a big group hug.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, enough small talk, let’s get down to business, anything new?”

It was as if someone switched a flip in the room, the girls jumping from excited to serious as they all handed in folders, giving her a brief of each new commission. It was going to be a long day of work, certainly. . . . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her keys jiggled in the apartment lock as she practically fell in, all of her energy drained.

“Damian? Do we have any coffee?”

She didn’t hear an answer as she reached for the cupboard, bringing down her favorite mug. Damian had given it to her a month into them dating. Her fingers absentmindedly reached to her neck where a small D sat on an elegant gold chain.

“I don’t understand Mari-san. You wearing his initial is a statement that he owns you. How is that romantic?”

She adjusted her phone to give Kagami a better look at the necklace, smiling softly as she held the D between two fingers.

“Because Kagami it’s not like that, I don’t wear it cause he ‘owns me’. I wear it because for the first time in a while, I really feel like someone really knows me, ya feel?”

“I do not ‘feel’ but if you are happy, then it is an acceptable gift, as is the coffee mug with the picture of you two.”

The whistle from the coffee machine drew her attention back to the present as Tikki flashed her a smile from where they sat on the Keurig.

“Thank you Tikki. I’m going to need this,” she held up her steaming mug, a tired smile flashing gratefully at the God.

Downing the cup, she placed it in the sink before pulling out her phone seeing three missed texts from Damian stating he would be home soon.

“Well Tikki, at least I’m not the one running late for once.” The two shared a small laugh before they headed towards her bedroom to get dressed for the night. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Damian squeezed her hand tightly as they made their way through Wayne Manner’s garden.

“There could be a small thousand here tonight, are you ready for that Mrs Wayne?”

His smile was blinding as her heart beat rapidly at the sound of him calling her by his last name.

“I most certainly am Mr. Wayne.”

As they rounded the corner to the back of the gardens, Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the number of people Dick had invited. Loud cheers erupted from every inch of the yard causing her entire face to flash red.

“I might’ve underestimated, I’d say at least three thousand.”

He squeezed her hand once more before he was pulled off into the crowd. She smiled at the genuine fear crossing his face as people began berating him about children so soon.

“Well, well, well, a beautiful woman in distress. Please allow me to be your stand in to ward off the power hungry tonight.”

Jason slung his arm over her shoulders earning a laugh from the smaller girl.

“I am eternally grateful for your services Monsieur Todd.”

They chatted lightly as he led her back to where her future family all stood, all practically vibrating from excitement, even Bruce.

“Mari! I’m so excited! I really thought he was going to force me to hold this a secret for forever.”

Dick pulled her into a bone crushing hug, only pulling back when Barbara and Stephanie forced him to. They each took their turns expressing their excitement for the wedding, Tim even going as far as to say he never thought it would happen.

“What? We were all thinking it! Demon spawn? Happy and smiling all the time? It’s scary!” he shuddered sending another round of laughter throughout the group.

Marinette brought up her phone, snapping a picture, posting it immediately to her Insta.

@mdcdesigns: So excited to officially be a part of this family. (not that I haven’t considered them family for years now :))

She was about to slide her phone back into her purse when something caught her attention. Almost instantly, a private message from Alya sat in her inbox. She wanted to ignore it, but the curiosity was eating her up.

@alyabloglyfe: Soo what?You don’t post for months and all of a sudden you show up with a double post about a supposed engagement to Damian Wayne?

What is this?

A publicity stunt?

A desperate cry to try and hurt Lyla even after all these years?

I demand an answer ‘bestie’

Her heart beat clenched at the last message as she felt the tears trying to pool in her eyes. So many years had passed and Alya still believed her to be the liar and failure that Lila painted her out to be.

She wanted to respond to the messages, but she wasn’t even sure what to say. Her fingers lingered over her keyboard as she looked up, trying to collect her thoughts. Then she saw him. His calm smile, his shining green eyes, the love radiating from him all directed to her. His eyes met hers as he excused himself from the person he was talking to.

“Are you alright habibti?”

His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into his side. It was as if everything faded away, the only thing she could see was him. Standing on her tiptoes, she gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m doing better than I ever was.”

He smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer as she unlocked her phone once more, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard.

@mdcdesigns: Alya, I don’t need this from you or Lila anymore. I have a world famous business, 1.3 million followers and fans, a loving new family and a fiance who loves me like I’m brand new despite the damage you put me through.

You don’t really want to know what I call this, because you’ll only distort it to fit your fantasy that Lila painted for you so you know what?

Call it what you want :)

She moved to the top of the screen, blocking her old friend without a second thought. After all, she had her new life and it had no room for the past to ruin that. Raising her glass, she leaned forward to clink it with the rest, a new sense of relief flowing through her.

“To Damian, for finally proposing before I had to.”

They all cheered to his mock protests as they brought their flutes to their lips, celebrating the next chapter in their lives, not a single worry filling the space, only love.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Seven

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo..... How are we doing................ Also for this week, new character incoming, the person I was picturing when I wrote Eli Durling is Michael Ealy, in case y’all want someone to picture

Warnings: ….Angst again I know my bad again

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact. 

“Jett Reno, engineering.” Engineering, how was it I always wound up rooming with someone from engineering?

--

The problem was, with my separation from the Enterprise and the wounds of Somonia still fresh, I found myself desperate for connection where my life had been voided of it. 

Jett, Tilly-- I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact. 

-- “What brought you to Starfleet?” I could tell by the strained way Jett was asking that she didn’t do small talk for fun the way Tilly did. I’d been on the Hiawatha for a couple of days and we’d hardly talked when we’d been in our quarters together. Neither of us had pushed to fill the silence. But now, Jett was making the effort to… Chat. Maybe it was an attempt to stop my harried pacing in the cramped craft, but I could hardly keep still. My first official mission was set to begin in just a few minutes-- I was piloting a new federation attack fighter with an experimental cloaking device into Klingon airspace for the purposes of picking up subspace chatter. The Hiawatha would be in range as it ferried the first few war-wounded to Starbase 515. As soon as I collected what transmissions I could, I was to return to the ship, and then we’d jump to maximum warp -- barring any complications. “... My dad was an attaché to the Federation when I was growing up. I was brought to a lot of planets when he had custody. And when I was home there were a lot of different languages around me. I was just... curious.” Jett grunted. “What about you?” I asked. “I was always taking shit apart when I was a kid,” Jett leaned away from the control panel, “I had a teacher at school that steered me to circuit analysis. Kicked off from there.” She pulled off her gloves, turning back to me. “Good thing she jumped in when she did, I was electrocuting myself like, once a week. My mom was a doctor, said electrocuting yourself is frowned upon.” I smiled a little bit, “You know, I’ve heard that.” “Apparently everyone but me had.” “When you joined Starfleet...You ever think you’d be doing something like this?” “Helping a language nerd fly into enemy space? Can’t say it was in my top five. Did you think you’d be a pilot?” I shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets, “No. I always liked flight sims, but steering was the furthest thing from my mind. I had this...Grand idea of going to new planets, building bridges between cultures… Not getting my ass bounced from ship to ship to ship and keeping my head down in the hopes I don’t wind up on Admiral Cornwell’s bad side…” I sighed, shrugging, “But we put our dreams away.” Jett’s brows were furrowed, and I could see the question she wanted to ask, but instead asked: “You got a plan after this?” “After the mission?” “After the war.” I was quiet for a moment, turning to survey the control panel. “... I think I’d rather focus on what I’m gonna do after the mission, not get too far ahead of myself.” Jett pursed her lips, nodding a little bit, looking around. “You oughta get off of this vessel if you don’t wanna join me for its maiden voyage,” I warned. Jett grunted, picking up her toolkit and heading for the ramp. “Try not to get blown up out there,” She said over her shoulder, “I did good work on this ship.” “I’ll do my damnedest,” I called back. 

-- 

It became routine for Jett and I to chat before missions - occasionally making plans for what we would do once I got back. My missions tended to vacillate between two types: either a transmission intercept, or a mission type that protocol labeled a 22-9-14. 22-9-14 operations consisted of approaching a Klingon craft, deploying a tracking and transmission device, and piloting the hell out of there before any Warbirds could catch wise. It didn’t always work of course --  which was why Eli and I started calling 22-9-14s ‘Tag and Runs’. Lieutenant Commander Eli Durling was a security officer stationed on the Hiawatha for the purpose of handling Communications-based missions. I’d known of him while I was at the Academy. He had been a couple of years ahead of me, and we had a few mutual friends, but as we'd been focused in different course tracks, I'd never had occasion to really interact with him until now. He’d graduated top of his class, and had been stationed on a ship in the Mempa sector until the war had broken out. 

Durling reminded me of Pike, a little. When he wasn’t focused on the mission at hand, he was fairly easygoing, lighthearted, and made it a point to follow orders - when those orders were the right course of action in a given situation. Eli wasn’t above changing course mid-mission when something took a bad turn, and he wasn’t afraid to go to bat for me with command for doing the same, either. He covered my back, and I covered his. 

--

“You should see the job Durling did to his phaser canons,” Jett half-yelled, half-grumbled from under the control panel. I eyed where her legs were in view, just beside my pilot’s seat. “Something tells me the job was done by a Klingon Warbird and not by Eli himself.” “Well if he hadn’t gotten spotted by a Warbird, they wouldn’t have chased him, fired at him, and fucked up his phaser canons.” “...You might have a point there.” “I’m wounded, lieutenant,” I heard from just behind me, and I turned to see Eli ducking his head to step onto the craft. “I really hope you mean emotionally," I teased. Eli’s lips twitched into a smile, and I returned it. It was moments like this that his attractiveness was...Really not lost on me. He was handsome, with golden, copper brown skin and gentle blue eyes. His smile, which was turned at me now, was typically kind -- a kind smile that could turn flirtatious or teasing at the drop of a hat. “I’m broken up inside,” Eli reassured me. “Mm, mhm,” I nodded, “What’s going on?” “I’ve got some news.” “Is it that you learned how to fix your phaser canons yourself?” Jett asked, sitting up from under the console. “Sadly, no.” “Sadly? That’s not sadly no, that’s morbidly depressingly no,” Jett grumbled as she took my hand to help her up, “You have any idea how long it’s gonna take me to fix those when you inevitably fuck them up again?” “Well, not long at all. The lieutenant and I are being transferred.” Jett and I let that sink in in silence as the three of us stood in silence. It felt like a punch - but Reno recovered faster than I did. “...Well, godspeed to whoever takes you over, Durling. You’re an engineer’s worst nightmare.” 

“I’ll miss you, too, Reno,” Eli chuckled before turning to me, “We’ll be shipping out once you get back, as long as everything is status quo.” “Got it.” “Be careful out there.” “Yessir.”

I watched Eli go before I lowered my eyes, making a careful study of my shoes. I’d been on the Hiawatha for two months now. It was only just starting to feel… Not like the Enterprise, but like a safe space again. “Well,” I said after a moment, “Least you’ll be getting your room back to yourself.” “Looks like it,” Jett agreed, “Don’t get all mushy on me, huh?” I shook my head, pushing back my upset and flattening my expression before meeting her eye: “I was about to ask the same of you.” Jett nodded. “Would’ve been nice if we could’ve seen this through together.” “Would’ve,” I agreed quietly. “But we put our dreams away,” Jett reached out, slapping me on the shoulder before picking up her toolkit, “Don’t get blown up at the last minute. It would be a hell of an anti-climax.” 

--

I scrolled through the contacts on my PADD stilling over Sidhu, Thira for a moment. The little status bubble beside her name read ‘Active’. Despite the fact that Eli and I were stationed together on the USS Pinnacle, and had been for months, I was antsy for news of the Enterprise. I’d reached out to Cornwell for an update on the crew, but I had yet to get an answer from her. I couldn’t blame her. She was entrenched in strategy, but I was desperate for news -- especially after the news of the Hiawatha’s loss had reached us nearly a week after Eli and I had been re-stationed. 

I scrolled further down on the contacts list, tapping on the contact name for Tilly, Sylvia. I eyed the ‘Active’ bubble beside her name before tapping on the small video icon. I lifted the PADD up to my face, grinning when Tilly came into view. “Hi!” She greeted, waving. “Hey there. How are you?” I asked, shifting back on my bed. “Oh…” I watched Tilly glance at her surroundings before she answered, “Lorca’s on the warpath.” “The literal warpath or the metaphorical one?” Tilly laughed before sighing, “Both.” I winched, “Sorry, Tills.” “It’s not all awful,” She shrugged, “I have a roommate again, actually. Michael Burnham.” My brows rose. I knew of Michael Burnham - her name was splashed across briefings in relation to the war and the Battle of the Binary Stars. But I’d known of her, first and foremost, through Spock. He’d never spoken of her in honeyed tones, mind, but I knew that he regarded her highly. What was all of this doing to Spock? I couldn’t imagine him having to reason himself through this with limited intel from the Federation at such a distance-- “Hello? Hel-- Hello? Did I cut out? Am I frozen? Are you frozen?” I was jolted from my reverie at Tilly’s waterfall of questions. “I’m sorry,” I smiled, “Got distracted-- How’s the roomie situation?” “Well she frowned about as much as you did when you got on board.” “I warmed up.” “So did she,” Tilly smiled, and I relaxed a little, folding my legs up under myself. “Glad to hear it.” I looked away from my PADD as the doors to my room opened. “Hey, Eli,” I greeted. I saw Tilly’s eyes widen, and I glanced down to see her smoothing her hair down hurriedly. “Eli, you remember Tilly,” I added as he crossed to my bed - I’d introduced them on a previous call. “Course I do,” He smiled, sitting down beside me and giving the screen a wave, “Nice to see you again, Sylvia.” I grinned as a flush as red as her hair well up on Tilly’s cheeks. “Hi,” She answered, matching Eli’s wave. Her gaze was directed away from the screen as an announcement that I couldn’t make out crackled on her end. “Ahh-- I have to go,” She said hurriedly, turning back to the screen, “I’m sorry!” “No, don’t worry about it,” I shook my head, “Be careful.” “You guys, too!” Tilly chirped before hanging up. I looked down at the screen as it winked off. I eyed the contact for Sidhu, Thira, one more time before swiping away from my contacts. Eli leaned back against the wall, shifting further back on my bed. “If you put your shoes on my bed, Durling--” “I know the rules, kid,” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. He’d taken to calling me that weeks ago, and I couldn't get him to shake it. “What’s got you in here, anyway?” I asked, “New mission?” “Can’t sleep.” I frowned, glancing over at Eli before I turned back to my messages. I had a new message, but where the hell was it? It wasn’t from Cornwell, I’d already checked. “Something wrong?” I pressed. “Just one of those nights. Ever have one?” “Oh, all the--” I froze, damn near dropping my PADD at the sight of the unopened message. It was recent - minutes old. And it was from Una. “...You okay, kid?” Eli’s knee nudged mine, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the words ‘You’re on the Pinnacle?’.

“I-- I um… Yes. I have those nights all the time. Think I’m gonna have another one of those nights tonight.” Eli crowded closer, peering over my shoulder. “Bad news?” “I don’t know yet… Can you gimme a minute?” 

--

It had started with Paledore, apparently. He’d been looking for something I’d sent him a while ago, some verb conjugation that I'd worked on, and he’d noticed that my status was active. He’d figured that it had to be a fluke, and he’d gone about his business. But it had happened again and again, and he’d brought it up to Thaleh, who had brought it up to Spock. Spock had done some digging, located me in Starfleet's medical database at the Academy, and then in the ship’s records for the Pinnacle. He had brought that information to Una. Una, who was now staring at me through a video feed. Her face was carefully blank. I’d seen that look before -- I knew that she was making a concentrated effort to not give anything away. Una could be hard to read in the first place, but I may as well have been looking at a statue. My heart was thudding low in my chest, beating out a panicked, jittery tattoo that usually only accompanied the running of a 22-9-14 and a Klingon Warbird on my tail. “...So,” I started, “How’s the Pergamum?” “You’re alive.” I gave a small nod. “Yeah, they’re not trucking a corpse around on the Pinnacle for the sake of filling the new communications specialist minimum.” “You’ve been alive this entire time and you’re making jokes?” Una seethed. It chilled me through the screen and I lowered my eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know you’re upset--” “Upset?” She repeated with a scorning little laugh, “I have spent the last year watching the repercussions that your loss has had on this crew, on Pike-- and you’re making jokes.” Guilt spun through me and wobbled like a top. “Can I explain?” “I wish you would.” 

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves before I told Una what had happened - all I could remember. Soivo, Somonia, Cornwell, my time on the Discovery and the Hiawatha. Una’s face remained unmoved throughout. My only indication that the screen hadn’t frozen was Una’s occasional shift in her seat. Once I’d finished my explanation, Una gave a small nod. “Well… That certainly lines up with the timeline that Spock put together.” I couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even as I ached at the mention. “Of course he put a timeline together,” I muttered, scrubbing my hand over my eyes. I sighed, quiet for a few moments. “How are you all?” I asked, “Will you tell me that?” “You don’t deserve that answer.” I clenched my jaw, hot tears prickling at my eyes as I felt my entire being want to fold in on itself. “Una, please understand--” The video feed cut, the message on the screen indicating that the call had been terminated from Una’s side. My fingers curled around the device, my chest racking with sobs as I curled forward. 

--

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I heard behind me, “What did that punching bag say to you?” I raised my hands to stop the bag from swinging back and hitting me before I turned back to see Eli. After Una’s abrupt end to our call, I had cried until I couldn’t anymore - until my sobs had been dry and my breathing had been hiccups. And then, when the hurt had still ebbed through me, when I saw that there were no transmissions waiting for translation or missions for me to run, I went to work the rest of my hurt out on a punching bag. “I’m not in the mood, Durling,” I cautioned quietly. My voice was hoarse from its rough use earlier, and my body and nerves were rung raw from the war, from losing Jett -- from my call with Una, and from the news that had hard followed - the Discovery had been destroyed. My last call with Tilly had been our last call. Eli took a couple of cautious steps closer to me, looking me over. “I can see that. Came to offer my assistance.” I arched a brow. “Assistance?” I repeated, “The bag over here offered the same thing and look where it’s wound up.” Eli smiled a little. “You’re gonna run yourself ragged like this,” he warned. I shook my head a bit, biting the inside of my cheek to staunch a fresh wave of tears. “I already have, Eli, I can’t--” I took in a deep, shuddering breath, “I can’t rest my head right now. That’s just a fact.” “Neither can I. Maybe we can help each other out with that.” “I’m not gonna ask you to help me.”  “Why not?” “You see the mood I’m in?” I nodded toward the bag, “At least one of us needs to be in a condition to fly.” “I think I can handle you.” I arched a brow. “Eli,” I warned softly. He took a step closer, warm blue eyes and kind smile pointed at me with all softness and sincerity. “Kid,” he murmured, “You don’t have to worry about being gentle with me.”  Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner  ; @tardis-23 ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​