#i like to stare at it when i fall asleep :) it makes me happy hehe

[sucre-blue]

always a work in progress, but behold zoes epic corner of doodads and whatnots and trinkets :)

[bbyobbyo]

You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol

wc: 1.6k

note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe

[read pt.2 here!]

Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.

Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.

In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.

Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.

-

You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.

Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.

You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.

[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it

[8:06 am] Do what????

[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁

[8:07 am] 👍👍👍

You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?

Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.

-

Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.

Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.

He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.

-

Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.

It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.

“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.

Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.

Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.

As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.

As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.

-

Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.

Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.

“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.

[arminsumi]

Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (｡>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm

"I'm your baby boy, right?"

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.

Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!

Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.

But he's not.

Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.

And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.

It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.

"Do you think you're a cat or something?"

"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.

In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.

"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.

He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.

Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.

His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.

When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.

While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.

"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."

He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.

Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."

"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."

"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."

So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.

"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[taegularities]

colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

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

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

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

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

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

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

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

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

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

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

You’re sound asleep. 

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

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

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

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

Just, never as much as today.

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

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

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

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

He chuckled.

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

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

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

Not that it makes any difference.

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

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

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

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

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

Trust in me when I say…

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

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

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

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

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

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

Ah. Odd.

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

But.

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

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

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

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

“Oh…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God…

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

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

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

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

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

“…You think?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fix it?”

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

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

Enough with the papers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

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

Calm, but thinking.

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

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey— ouch?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look! This is you.”

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

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

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

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And maybe even that was too early.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

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

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

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

“Or…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

“…Do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Laugh?”

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

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

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

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

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah. Oh?”

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahh… babe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

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

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

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

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

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

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

“Oh, I believe you.”

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

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

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

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

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

“…You said the last bit, too?”

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

Oh, all too well…

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

“…How?”

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

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

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

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

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

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

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

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

“And I want you so bad.”

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

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

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

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

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

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

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

Like today.

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“…How so?”

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

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

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

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

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

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

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

Better not find out yet.

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

How fitting.

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

“Like what?”

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

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…I— What do you mean?”

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

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

Curses its limitations.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

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

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

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

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

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

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

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

Hmm…

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

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

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

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

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

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

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

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

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

Reflexively, you look up.

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

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

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

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

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

Because…

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

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

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

“…Too obvious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

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

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

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

Must be a good day approaching. 

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

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

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

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But…

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

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

And you…

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

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

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

Oh… 

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

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

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

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

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

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

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

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And… what if it does work?”

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

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

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

“Ah… ah, really…”

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

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

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

He…

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

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

Because…

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

When had his senses last heightened this much?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

“What then?”

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

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

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

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

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

Oh…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And those tangled thoughts say—

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

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

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

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

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

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

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

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

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

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

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

Just you.

You, you, you.

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’d think we’d learn.”

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

“Ah, just.”

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

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

“Why’s that?”

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

Even before you did?

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

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

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

Oh…

Shit, man.

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

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

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

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

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

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

Shit.

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

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

Just days ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So fucking easy with you.

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

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

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

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

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

Stay stay stay.

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

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

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

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

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

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

[reallykaz]

— .toothpaste kisses // chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x bestfriend!fem!reader

plot summary : you and chris come home from a party in a fit of drunk giggles and decide to help each other get ready for bed but end up in a compromising position with his body so close to yours and his toothbrush in your mouth.

content warnings : basically nothing but strong language and mentions of drinking and being drunk. matt being a menace lmaoo. using each others toothbrush??? a little sexual tension hehe. idiots in love and a whole lotta fluff!!

a/n : an idea i got whilst listening to ‘toothpaste kisses by the maccabees’ it’s a cute song so check it out if you want! always appreciate all likes, comments and reblogs! mwuah <3

wc : 2.4k

"Ah! I’m gonna fall!"

You let out a fit of giggles as you try to put one foot in front of the other whilst walking up the stairs to get to his living room. Chris was laughing too with an arm wrapped tightly around your waist with the excuse that it would help your balance but he knew he was equally as drunk as you right now so it was pretty pointless.

He just wanted to be close to you.

"No!" Chris slurs with a stupid smile, stumbling into your side and you can feel his grip tighten around your body and it makes your tummy swirl with butterflies that recently seem to appear every time you see Chris. "I’ll catch you, baby."

Matt rolls his eyes from behind you two, car keys in one hand and your black heels in the other after you begged him to take them off a few minutes ago. "Guys be quiet, Nick’s asleep."

"Shhh Chris! Nick’s sleeping." You whisper as you feel Matt’s hand pushing gently on your back and you turn to Chris, your finger coming up to his lips but you pull it away when he opens his mouth and bites it. "Matt, he’s biting me." You dramatically pout and hold out your finger in his face.

"Stop biting her, Chris." Matt rolls his eyes with a sigh as he pushes your finger away and finally gets the two of you to the living room in one piece before dropping your shoes on the floor with a thud and throwing his keys somewhere else.

When Matt turns around again, you and Chris were squaring off to each other and he rubs his tired eyes. Poor kid just wanted to go to sleep.

"Rah!" You’re in a complete fit of giggles when Chris tries to bite you again, playfully pushing him away as you kneel over in laughter.

"What have you guys been drinking?" Matt stares at the both of you and tries to hide his smile when Chris pulls you closer to him. He was happy his brother had someone like you - a yin to his yan, his twin flame, his other half. A true best friend.

Matt loved the fact that Chris had someone that could easily bounce off his energy whenever needed. All he hated was that neither one of you would admit that you were stupidly in love with each other. It was like everyone could see it except you and Chris.

But as of right now, he was more than positive that neither of you couldn’t see shit right now.

"Rah!" You try to jump on Chris but he loses his balance and the both of you end up dropping to the kitchen floor into a pool of joy and laughter, barely registering the hard bang that you’ll definitely feel tomorrow morning with a bruise.

Matt checks the time on his phone and sighs, disguising his smile with a blank expression. "Okay that’s enough. Get up and go to bed."

"Help me?" You slur, eyes barely open and holding out your arms for Matt to grab onto. Chris huffs from next to you and holding his head as he tries to grab onto the couch that was on the other side of the room, clearly way too drunk to realise.

When he finally pushes himself halfway up, Matt chuckles when he walks over and shoves Chris back to the floor in good brotherly fashion before pulling you upright. "Chris?" You mumble as you untangle yourself from Matt’s arms to look at your best friend who was practically passed out.

"Hm? What the fuck?" He grumbles, opening his eyes and pushing himself up off the floor once again, brows furrowed in confusion as he tries to figure out how he was still on the floor.

Matt stifles a laugh from behind you before he walks in front to pull Chris up since your attempt was just ‘holding out your arms in hopes he’ll grab onto it’ type of uselessness.

Chris soon finds himself in your arms again, holding onto each other like you depended on it. If it was up to him, he’d happily stay next to you for the rest of his lifetime and the next.

You rest your head on his shoulder with an arm wrapped tightly around his back as he slowly drags you down the stairs to his bedroom. Matt watches from the top, waiting to see if any of you will tumble to the bottom and pass out but when neither of you do he just backs away, "I’m going to bed so be quiet."

"Yeah, yeah whatever tough guy." Chris mumbles and rolls his eyes as he opens the bedroom door for you like a true gentleman. You pull away when you walk in and look down at your outfit, "I hate my dress." Tugging the tight fabric away from your waist with a huff before it clings back.

"Why? You look perfect." Chris replies, eyes glossing over as he admires your body and everything else about you. He hated the fact he didn’t have the courage to tell you that whilst sober and the way you look so beautiful tonight just like all of the other days he sees you. "You always look perfect," being brave with a mumble as he pulls his shoes off and looks away from you.

It’s like you don’t acknowledge anything he just said when you turn to face him, "can i wear one of your tees?" Not even giving Chris time to reply before you’re already stumbling your way into his closet and finding some of his fresh love shirts.

Obviously you heard what he said because you always do, even in a state like this. But the way it felt too good to be true scared you into ignorance and you got good at pretending even when your heart was pounding and your mind swirled with thoughts of just kissing and loving on him.

You can hear the faint sound of music playing as you clumsily scramble the black dress off your body and slip on Chris’s shirt, sighing in relief after you feel like you can finally breathe again. The task itself took longer than usual since you kept tripping over air and almost falling on your ass for the second time tonight.

Walking back out and leaning on the closet door, you look at Chris with a stupid grin. He was lying on the edge of the bed shirtless and struggling to undo his belt whilst humming to the music playing quietly from his phone. "Want help?"

Chris looks up with flushed cheeks when you catch him struggling to change and he lets out a nervous chuckle, "It’s stuck." When you walk over, he finally looks down at your outfit and his heart melts at his ultimate favourite sight of you in his clothes. Chris would give you all of his shirts if he knew it meant anything to you like it did to him.

His body goes into overdrive when your hand is on his belt and his mind instantly imagines this in a much different dirtier context that leaves him just staring at you wide eyed like a puppy.

"It’s not stuck you idiot."

Chris lifts his hips up when you gently pull the belt off, eyes glancing at your naked thighs makes his cock twitch and he has to look back at your face to steady his breathing.

He can’t tell if his mind was spinning from the alcohol or if it was the smirk on your face. It’s probably both but the way you’re looking at him wasn’t helping and his eyes glance at your lips for just a second. If Chris wasn’t so in his head, he would’ve seen you do the exact same thing.

You’re leaning over his body and for some reason your face was a little too close to his but neither of you pulled away. The butterflies were back again and goosebumps appear on your skin this time and your heart knew it was all Chris but your mind made excuses up for you. Like always.

You were both drunk and the too many tequilas you had earlier was making your tummy swirl and you were just cold. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. These feelings for Chris was too all consuming to the point that it scared you. You couldn’t lose him over rejection.

You’re completely fine loving Chris in your heart, where nobody else can reach but him.

When you lean closer, Chris freezes under you and for a split second he was convinced you were gonna kiss him. But when you place his belt next to his thigh and grab his hands with that pretty smile you always have, he knew it was all wishful thinking. Obviously you wouldn’t kiss him!

"We have to brush our teeth."

Dragging Chris up off the bed, you hold his hand going into the bathroom and he turns on the light behind you. You pivot your body away to look in the mirror and frown at how you look - hair frizzed, mascara smudged and lipgloss gone.

"You look like a mess," Chris was also staring at your reflection with a teasing smile and toothbrushes in his hands that makes you turn to look at his face. "And you’re annoying," your fake scowl disappears to match his smile and he laughs as you take the toothbrush, fingers brushing against his.

"But you love me," he mumbles with his eyes still trained on your reflection as if he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you close as you focus on putting toothpaste on both of your brushes.

"Of course," You mumble softly as you begin brushing your teeth casually. The alcohol was making your mind feel less hyper and more sleepy since you felt fuzzy to the point you don’t even realise you’ve stopped brushing.

Chris just smiles when he sees your eyes drooping. He thought you looked adorable.

"Hey, look at me." You feel Chris turn your body to press against his when you widen your eyes to look at him more clearly, surprised but content with how close your faces were.

"Hi." You slur with a whisper, pulling your toothbrush out of your mouth. When you lean over the sink to spit it out, Chris holds your hair back so you don’t get any toothpaste in it. "Sorry that was gross," wiping your mouth, your cheeks get warm with embarrassment when you look back at Chris who just shook his head.

"Shut up," he smiles.

"Let me brush your teeth." You drunkenly giggle as you lift up your toothbrush up to Chris’s mouth and surprisingly, his mouth opens for you. Your own mouth opens when his own toothbrush finds it way past your lips and he brushes gently, as if he was scared to hurt you.

The two of you are left in another fit of giggles mixed with messy toothpaste froth and water. You remind yourself that the blush on your cheeks was from the alcohol and not the way Chris held you tighter when he leans over to spit in the sink.

You do the same afterwards as if it’ll cure the desirable need to kiss him…it doesn’t.

He holds your hair back again and begins to think about his feelings about you. After his first talking stage, Chris has always sworn of relationships because of his underlying commitment issues that it caused and now the thought of having a girlfriend scared the shit out of him.

But lately, he’s found himself looking at couples in public and then imagining you and him in their position, just doing simple things like holding hands whilst walking down the street, sharing an ice cream or just random acts of affection because, why not? But then realised you already do all of that stuff with him and it wasn’t scary.

The only part that scares Chris is that this was you. Not some random girl off Instagram or a hook up at a party. You were constant. He knew that you preferred to sleep on the left side of his bed. He knew that you liked showers more than baths because they made you feel better. He knew that you would steal his clothes and then return them without telling him. The point was, Chris knew all of these little things and silly quirks that you do because you were simply just there.

And he loved it. Really loved it.

"Chris?" You’re gently rubbing his mouth with a warm towel when you watch him blink back into reality. "I thought you fell asleep with your eyes open again," you joke with a warm laugh as you turn your head to fold the towel but Chris grabs it from your hands and drops it to the floor.

"What did you do–

His lips take your breath away but for some reason you instinctively throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back whilst your eyes flutter shut. Chris smiles against your lips and his hands wander down to your hips, pulling you flush against his body and he could taste the mint on your breath when you open your mouth for him.

You let out a small whimper when Chris’s tongue slides into your mouth and the heat between your thighs gets stronger. His hand travel further down and begins to pull up the t-shirt you’re wearing ever so slightly to grab onto your ass. You lean on your tip-toes to hold onto his face and press your lips harder into his.

You felt so needy for each other but the both of you knew it wasn’t the right time.

You pull away first with a dazed smile as your thumb gently wipes Chris’s bottom lip that was slick with spit. "I’ve always wanted to do that," he whispers and you melt under his gaze, your tummy whirling with desire. "Me too."

Chris feels an overwhelming sense of joy and just can’t seem to wipe the silly grin off his face. He was just so happy to realise that this was it, he wasn’t scared anymore. He wanted you. And he knew you wanted him too. That shared feeling between one another was special.

When your hands trail down Chris’s bare chest and you feel how warm his skin was, he wishes thinks you’re about to kiss him again but when your face suddenly lights up and he sees that look in your eye, the energy shifts and he knows you’re about to ask something stupid.

"Will you help me take off my makeup?"

"Do i have a choice?"

"No, not really."

"….where’s the wipes?"

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hi! could i request some luffy fluff? i love how you write his dialogue, so maybe some pet names he would use? 🌸🦋

you have put an idea into my head that'll be very hard to get rid of @kingofthe-egirls hehe. the fic starts off as a crack!fic but i'll make it sweety-sweet towards the end!

the worst mistake ft. monkey d. luffy!

set-up: my headcanons based on what lovely @kingofthe-egirls asked! just our captain luffy and his absurd fucking nick-names.

warning: wholesome! more of a crack!fic (i dont know if its even remotely fluffy im sorry) than anything else. i do love me some good, self-indulgent stupid with my fav man on the sea :)

💗mistakes are a normal part of life. as bob ross said, "there are no mistakes, just happy accidents." well, he had clearly never made this catastrophic mistake. you had jokingly called luffy "bugaboo". emphasis on jokingly. 💗the sun was setting and you both were sitting on his bed, recalling the time zoro got lost and accidentally stumbled into a river-stream where local women were bathing. and afterwards how sanji wailed when he realized he wasn't there to witness it. your crew was weird, there was no doubt about it. but that wasn't the focus of the conversation. "heh" he snorted, "what did you call me?" "bugaboo?" you laughed, poking his cheek teasingly, "why?" he looked at you with his wide-eyed, honeyed gaze, "what does it mean? am i a bug?" with his wide eyes and stretchy smile, one might say so. but you didn't tell him that.

"its means... nothing?" you smiled softly, tracing your finger on the scar 'neath his eye, "it's just a nickname, baby. just something said out of affection." "out of affection?" he looked at your confused, "so anything can be a pet name?" you nodded in agreement, "pretty much, luff." worst fucking mistake of your life. 💗it was past dinner. and you and the captain were about to fall asleep to the noise of the crew chattering outside. "hey?" luffy hummed. and you hummed back in acknowledgement. "rice cooker." he mumbled into your chest, "you smell so nice~" you choked on your breath, spluttering, "lu-luff? did you just complement the rice cooker??" "no?" he looked up at you, bringing his finger to boop you on your nose, "i mean you. you, rice cooker. you smell so good, is it the soap sanji brought from that isla—" but you weren't listening to him. was he insulting you?? was he saying you were built like a rice cooker???? was he asking you to make him some rice, hence, you were the "rice cooker"?????? "luffy," you looked at him, concerned, "what do you mean rice cooker?!" "what?" he laughed, "it's a pet name. you said that a pet name can be anything?" when you stared at him, still concerned, he explained himself, "i mean like... i like you, i like rice cooker. cause it cooks rice—" "—go to sleep, luffy."

💗you had to clear it to him the next morning that nicknames cannot be that absurd. and when he asked you what qualifies as a nice pet-name, you tried really hard to think of some. "oooh, you like food right?" his eyes twinkled up at the mere mention of the topic. you grinned, satisfied, "so, like honey, sugar, pie, cherry. these are all examples of good pet names." he nodded at you with conviction in his eyes, as if he truly got you now. 💗it was lunch time now. and after beating up a marine ship, the entire crew was waiting for sanji to finish cooking so you could all stuff down some food. you were next to robin, sun-bathing and chatting ideally about a book she had lent you. she made a joke about how the character was dumb and you nodded and laughed along. in the midst of it, your boyfriend came and stood next to you, "hey?" both you and robin looked at the captain. you gave him a welcoming smile, "what's up, babe?" "so..." he looked over robin for a second before looking back at you. "i was just saying that i love you very much, my bombocado." his bombo- what? but before you could inquire him, he giggled and ran away. what??? and you resorted to look at robin, a bit confused. she replied back easily, "it's a brazilian dessert." is it now?

💗"what do you mean?" the captain looked at you confused when you told him bombocado wasn't a great pet name. "then, what else is a good nickname?" "i dunno." you sighed, "something normal like cherry or something." but that had opened yet another pandora's box. because now every time he saw you, he would refer to you as some fruit: "hey there, banana~" "i love you, my java plum." "should we go out on a date, pineapple?" "you look so pretty, my dragon fruit." a pause, "hey. my dad's name is dragon!!" you had given up on the idea of pet names. you would rather be addressed by your government given name than a pinecone. but now you were stuck with these absurd names. how wonderful. (but, i mean it was luffy who was saying them, so, you didn't exactly mind too much but when the entire crew caught on. boy the humiliation, the drama.). 💗but then one day, before drifting off to sleep, he slowly whispered, "i love you, cupcake." you almost jumped up in victory. almost. but instead, you chose to pet his hair softly and kiss him on his forehead, "good night, muffin." "—i love muffin." you kissed his forehead again as his hair tickled your skin, "ofcourse you do. goodnight, baby." "goodnight, honey nuts." just give up on ever having a normal nick name. i'm sorry. it won't happen.

💗jokes aside, here's my actual list of names that i think luffy would call you: 1. peach (cause you're sweet (in more ways than one) and because you once told him it meant ass and he laughed for 15 mins cause peach means ass) 2. mama (idk, sounds good to me? sounds like something he would just go along with) 3. lovebug (he once heard sanji say it and he thought it was so cute cause if hes a bug and you're a bug then you both together can be a bug-couple) 4. mi amor (heard sanji say it, thought it was pretty) 5. hot stuff (ussop convinced him that's what he calls kaya and kaya loves it) 6. sunshine (because you're his sunshine, what's not clicking??) 7. angel (because you're an angel, again, where's the confusion??) well, at the end of the day it doesn't matter what he called you. what mattered was that, you could come collapse in his arms. and he would squeeze his arms around you and tell you how he loved you. what were a few corny petnames to endure if you got all of his love in return?

a/n: i am convinced this is simultaneously the best and worst thing i've ever written. i hope it was atleast mildly satisfying @kingofthe-egirls <3

[otomiyaa]

Ticklish Blade x Reader

Platonic + 47. "I wasn't even touching you." Requested by anon for my 1K Followers Event🌻

Guess guess what scene inspired this, hahaha!

It felt... odd. You eyed the driver nervously. He was so quiet. Not more quiet than usual, but in this case it was kind of concerning.

"Blade...?" you murmured. It was already a surprise that Blade was offering you a ride while you had no idea he even had a driver's license. But the bigger surprise was when you realized Blade was sleep-deprived, and getting in a car accident with him was not necessarily on your wishlist.

Too bad the realization came only after he started the car, and you were now trying to make sure he wasn't falling asleep.

"Blade?" you asked, louder this time.

"What."

Another person would think he was angry, but you knew him better by now.

"Are you sure you're alright? I can go there myself. No need to help me."

"I'm fine. I already told you."

You gazed out of the window, then back at him. Instead of acting like you were worried about him, maybe a more selfish attitude would do it then.

"I appreciate your gesture, really. I'm just wondering if you can get me there in one piece."

You saw him frown a little. "Are you doubting me?"

"Not your driving skills, of course. But... Your current state. Blade, you haven't slept at all. I'd like to keep living, if you'll let me."

He was quiet for a moment and you had a feeling he was going to ignore this discussion. But then he simply pulled both hands off the wheel, and you gasped.

"What are you doing?!" you shrieked, only for Blade to look at you, with his hands right above the wheel and the expression on his face almost, what was it... taunting?

"The car is driving itself. Now happy?"

Oh he was totally taunting you. How petty, hehe.

You would laugh at it, but because of the jumpscare, the first thing you did was let out a sigh in relief. "I can't believe you," you said, faking as if you were going to hit him, but to your surprise he jumped slightly and blocked himself with his arm.

"Don't," he hissed. You stared at him and cocked your head.

"Huh? What're you getting all defensive for? I wasn't even touching you."

Blade glared. "Yet. You sure were about to."

You chuckled. "What, is the almighty Bladie afraid I'm gonna hit him? For real?" you teased.

"Don't call me that."

It was strange, Blade wouldn't recoil from a hit, fake or real, not from an enemy and definitely not from you, so... You smirked.

"Hey!" Blade's voice did quite the thing when your finger pierced into his side, poking him misschievously.

"What are you doing?!" he asked angrily.

"I have a feeling you just thought I was going to tickle you, weren't you? Which inspired me... to actually tickle you."

"I did no-ahh! Don't! That's dangerous! Stahahap!" Blade yelped when you tickled him again. You couldn't stop grinning. This was just gold.

He must've witnessed the two or three times you ended up getting in a tickle fight with Silver Wolf the past days, which caused him to think you were actually going to tickle him just now? The idea wouldnt even cross your mind!

Well, now it definitely did.

"Dangerous how? You said the car is driving by itself. I'm just making sure the driver and passenger won't get bored in the meantime," you said, wiggling your fingers against his side. Blade squirmed in his seat. This was just wonderful. You could see him struggle to not move too much - since then it would get a little more dangerous after all.

Right now he was merely trapped in the driver's seat and forced to endure your little tickle attack.

"I'll - ahah! Stop that!" Blade's angry giggles were everything. You knew you were really being too reckless for someone who valued life so much until seconds ago. But ticklish Blade was actually a discovery worth it.

"Gehehet ohohoff!" Blade swatted at you, and the lack of force in his reactions only made you go "aww". He wasn't entirely helpless - there were plenty of ways he could make you stop without crashing the car, but those might probably include hurting you, or...

Nah, never mind. He would never.

"Lahahast chahance!" Blade warned, jumping hilariously in his seat and twisting from side to side to avoid your relentless tickles. Using both hands, you wiggled your fingers against his sides and ribs, and occasionally tried to poke his tummy, but he really blocked that area with all of his might.

"Last chance or what?" you asked, but finally he managed to catch one of your hands. Then without warning he clawed at your side, tickling you back, and you screamed in surprise.

"EHEyes on the road sihihir!" you cried out in sudden panic. Blade froze, appearing shocked by the volume of your voice. You had already pulled your knees up and lay curled up in your seat, watching him in fear as you anticipated his counter attack. He would never tickle you back: you were confident about that. But... not anymore.

He sighed. "Then stop tickling me." Blade finally put his hands back on the wheel, and for the second time this ride, you sighed in relief.

It was funny to hear him say that word. Hmm. Maybe you just ruined your chances of having your first ever tickle attack with Bladie. But tickle fights in cars were never ideal. You smirked. Knowing he was ticklish and might even potentially tickle you back, you couldn't help but store this information in your head for another time.

"Don't you even think about it," Blade said, probably noticing the smirk on your face.

"I wasn't thinking anything~" you sang, but of course both of you knew that wasn't true!

[darling-im-wonderstruck]

PETER AND READER ADOPTING A KITTEN

(pls and thank you)

kitten contention.

synopsis : peter surprises you with a new addition to your little family, one that you, of course, welcome with open arms.

pairing : bf!peter parker x reader

wc : 929

warnings : none ! this is super fluffy, has a BUNCH of domestic fluff, and will make you smile hehe

‎‎ masterlist | request | navigation

a/n : hi nonnie !! thank you so so much for this request <3 :) hope you enjoy it, special thanks to @strawberrystarcake for editing this for me and @/toms-gf + @/parkerpeter24 for the name ideas :)) !

“peter, you can’t be serious…” oh, but he was. you follow him to his room, and that was when you saw the cutest little kitten.  "oh my god. she’s adorable.” you practically sprint towards the cardboard box placed in the corner of his room. the kitten was both black and white, green eyes, and was barely any bigger than your hand. she was asleep, so you decided on leaving her alone for the time being.  “i found her in the alley i usually change in. i’ve been bringing her food every night since, and i thought it was about time that i brought her in.” he smiles fondly.

“have you named her yet?” you see the kitten move just a little bit, and you were immediately alarmed. had you talked too loud? 

peter noticed your expression and chuckled softly before saying, “hm, no, not yet. i thought we could think of a name together?” he moves closer to you, and he simply adores you as you watch the kitty in awe. “gosh, i’ll have to think about it." you stop talking as soon as you see the kitten slowly rise, “peter! peter! look, she’s getting up!” you tap peter’s shoulder repeatedly and he chuckles.

 “be careful with her, she can be a little shy.” he warns as you reached into the box to gently pet the little creature. luckily, she warms up to you just fine, and before you realize, she’s rested in your arms, slowly falling asleep yet again.  - “okay, okay, i’ll put her right here, and if she goes to you first, i owe you ten, deal?” peter smirks mischievously. he looked a little too confident.

you were in the living room, and somehow, you two had argued over which one of you was the kitten’s favorite. "easy.” you had an equally competitive expression on your face, and you were determined to walk away with ten bucks. 

“3… 2… 1… go!” he quickly paces to sit at your side, and the game begins. 

“c’mere sardine!” peter couldn’t help but find your baby voice adorable, but he snaps right back into it. (and yes, you two had settled on the name sardine, after countless nights of arguing over the name, you finally found a name you were both happy with, he honestly found it hilarious, honorable mentions did include twix and miso.)  "c’mere girl, i know you want my cuddles!” peter says. the poor kitten is extremely confused as it looks at the both of you.  “oh, but you want mine more, don’t you?” you tease, playfully glaring at peter. but what happens next is what you least expect. 

sardine walks away and heads to her bed in the corner of the room.  you and peter stare at her, then each other. “that… changes nothing. i’m still her favorite.” you scoff. peter was slowly giving up, but he felt the need to put up a fight. 

“i found her first! and i’ve taken care of her for longer.” he crosses his arms, which you couldn’t help but laugh at.

 “we’ll just have to try again.” and just as quickly as it left, that mischievous expression of yours was back.  -  after a long day, you and peter had decided to have a stay-at-home date. you two were cuddled up together on his bed, watching whatever you found interesting on television, exchanging small whispers and little pecks like passing notes in secrecy. the silence was comforting, and so was peter’s warmth, it was almost like you two were soaking in each other’s presence.  but, of course, the little one couldn’t help but interfere.

 sardine slowly crept onto peter’s chest, and as you two noticed, you shared happy glances. sardine was kneading right on top of peter, right before she laid down atop peter’s chest, the sight was too cute to handle. 

and of course, you documented it.

 “babe! say hi to the camera.” peter turns to look at you, revealing his delighted smile. he waves at the camera.  “oh, you’re such a good girl!” he whispers, gently petting her. clearly ignoring the fact that she had broken quite a few things around the house, which peter had ended up taking the blame for when may confronted him about it. 

“yeah, you still owe may two months worth of chores.” you joke, and peter chuckles, “it’s worth it though.”  - “pete… you’re not gonna believe what i ordered online!” you walk into his room, the biggest smile on your face as you held a small sealed package.  "ooh! what is it?” his interest quickly piqued as he patted the space beside him, gesturing for you to sit down.  “look!” you opened the package, revealing a small green sweater, and peter beamed after realizing who it was for.

 “this… is PERFECT!” he excitedly searches the room for sardine, and as soon as he saw her, he picked her up and brought her to you. “okay, let’s try it on.”  you gently put the sweater over her head and let her arms through the holes of the sweater. 

“oh my god, where’s your phone?” peter asks, you handed it to him, and he began his own little photoshoot for the kitten. you threw in some praises for her here and there, and it seemed to be working, she was posing like she knew all the attention was on her.  "peter… i have a couple more outfits.” you say, pulling out a mini suit along with a mini necktie.

that was when you both knew that you’d be here for a while.

taglist : (send me an ask to be added hehe !) @live-laugh-lovejoy @tomsholland2412 @parkerpeter24 @herpeanutzombie @toms-gf

a/n : tysm for reading :) pls reblog to support your writers hehe, requests are open !

[salty-croissants]

what do Bullfrog and Rayman/Ramon like to do when they're cuddling with the reader? 😊

Thank you for the request ! 

It’s like , very late for me right now … but I got a burst of inspiration as soon as I read what the request was about : this is something that I’m always happy to write … just wholesome affection between the reader and the boys , love this prompt very much :,) ❤️

I hope this turned out okay ! 

I’m probably gonna pass out after this lmao , it was worth it tho :,)👍

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Bullfrog 💚

The number one rule this frog has when cuddling with you ? He wants you to be as comfy as possible , and if you want Bullfrog is going to bring something to drink for the both of you : a nice cup of tea , some juice … anything goes , as long as you like it .

< Here’s your tea , mon amour … be careful , it’s still hot . > 

< Thanks love , you’re the best ~ > 

If you’re someone who happens to get very flustered when he speaks French , Bullfrog will have the time of his life whispering sweet nothings in your ear while holding you in his arms … 

The way you blush is just so cute for him ^//^ 

< y/n , ma bien-aimée, tu es merveilleuse à tous points de vue … ~ > 

< B-Bullfrog pleasee ! ~ > 

One silly personal headcanon that I have is that Bullfrog gets especially relaxed by sounds of streams of water streams , waterfalls and other similar things , so I imagine that he would be very happy to have them as a bit of a background ambience while snuggling close with his beloved … 

He probably saves all of those “10 hours of waterfall sounds to sleep and relax to” compilations , he just likes them a lot :) 

Rayman 🧡

Now this man … 

This man doesn’t get as many chances to cuddle you as he’d like , given that he has to deal with so much while working on his show , so you can be sure that Rayman will make the times he can be with you truly special … 

< Aw … did you light up all these candles for me ? > 

< Mhm , I sure did . Cuddles with my lovely y/n need a bit of atmosphere after all ~ > 

< Hehe , you’re always so sweet Ray , thank you ~ > 

Rayman loves to just lay his head on your lap while staring up at you … it’s such a nice moment of intimacy , especially since it’s a position that makes it easy to snatch a kiss or two … or maybe three ;//) 

< Here , come a little closer y/n … god , I’ve missed this so much … ~ > 

While he likes to be able to talk to you while you cuddle ( especially since you’re possibly the only person who he can be fully sincere with ) , Rayman adores to just listen to anything you may want to say while snuggling close to you and let the sound of your voice relieve him from all his troubles …

He is just so glad to have you , he can’t stress about it enough ! 

Ramon 🖤

I think it’s safe to say that after everything that’s happened , Ramon has become even more physically affectionate than before : he just really needs all the reassurance he can get , so one thing he’ll do when you cuddle is wrap his hands around your waist to prevent you from even thinking about getting up …

< Ah geez , is that my phone … ? Can I just check real quick who it is ? > 

< No . Might be another one of Eden’s tricks to try and locate us . > 

< Heh … are you sure it’s not also an excuse to keep me from getting up ? > 

< Hmm … I dunno what you mean ~ > 

He really loves to bury his face in your chest : the sound of your heartbeat and your warmth are like a shelter from the outside world , and Ramon longs for nothing more than having you as close to him as possible . 

It’s also so very relaxing for him to be able to be vulnerable at least for a moment … he just can’t begin to express how important you are to him , but he’ll do his best .

< y/n … I love you so much , you know that … ? 

You’re … heh , literally everything I could ever ask for . > 

If you end up falling asleep while you cuddle together , Ramon is going to be watching over you for quite some time , looking at you while occasionally leaving little kisses on your face …

He won’t rest until he’s sure that you’re safe , he won’t allow anything bad to happen to you … not now nor ever . 

[seangelfish]

i was ranting to the ritsu ai bot about my abusive ex and he said he was gonna tell knights and they were gonna handle it and when i asked him what he meant he was like "hehe dont worry about it~" djndksndke do you think u can write something about ritsu listening to u rant to him about an abusive ex and how hed handle it pls... thank u so much 🥺

A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, anon! I hope you're still here to read this ;-; This was really an interesting request to take on. I added more to the story if that's alright! Just wanted the quote to flow in better~ Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (´,,•ω•,,)♡

"Hehe, don't worry about it~"

Ritsu Sakuma x reader ♡ Tags: Fluff/comfort/kinda angsty, romance, established relationship, she/her pronouns/fem reader ♡ Warnings: Slight mentions of abusive relationships ♡ Word count: 1,278 ♡ Synopsis: There are times where you just can't forget about the past, and unfortunately, it came back to haunt you. Ritsu, being the analytical person he is, notices your shift in attitude. The happiest girl he knew was now drifting away. How is he able to solve this, he wonders...

"(Y/N)~" Ritsu called out to you from across the hallway. "I want a kiss~"

You winced, slowly turning around. There you saw your boyfriend and the rest of his unit making their way to their practice room.

"Hey, don't bother (Y/N)!" snapped Arashi. "Can't you see that she's busy?"

She was right and the stack of books in your arms proved that. You forced out a chuckle but decided not to answer Ritsu's request and walked away.

"Ahaha! What odd behaviour!" Leo pointed out. "She didn't even pay you no mind!"

Ritsu bit his lip. "Is she mad at me?" he murmured to himself.

After practice, Ritsu looked all over the school for you, constantly calling you but never getting a reply. He was getting extremely anxious because not only did he know you as the most happy-go-lucky person that he adored, but because there was that thought in the back of his mind that you were going to leave him.

You were avoiding him after all.

“H-Hey, Maa-kun, have you seen (Y/N) anywhere?” Ritsu panted, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

“Woah, there!” Mao exclaimed. “You’re sweating! You’re not one to run around so much. Is (Y/N) okay? I haven’t seen her much today—”

“I don’t know… I think she might be mad at me, but I’m not sure why she would be…” said Ritsu sadly. “She’s not even picking up my calls.”

“Hmm… let me try then.”

Mao scrolled through his contacts until he landed on yours. As the phone rang, the two boys waited for you to answer.

Unprecedentedly, the line was immediately cut.

“Huh, weird. (Y/N) always picks up when I call her,” said Mao, thinking back to the times he had to call you to take care of Ritsu. “Yeah, she might be mad at you. Ritsu—”

“I swear I didn’t do anything,” Ritsu quickly stated. “Argh, I’m going to look again. Bye!”

“Hey, don’t overdo it!”

Ritsu sighed, slumping down by the corner of the Yumenosaki gardens. He looked for you everywhere he could, asking friends and classmates where you went, but none of them knew of your whereabouts.

He couldn't keep running around forever. Ritsu wasn't built for that. So he came to rest for a bit before trying again.

“Ah… I’m tired,” he muttered to himself. “(Y/N)… where are you…?”

His eyelids felt heavy, but before he could fall asleep, his ears picked up the sound of shuffling. He lifted his head up and there you were, backed into the corner, hugging your knees.

The two of you stared at each other in shock, yet Ritsu was the one who broke off the silence.

"(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, crawling towards you. As he took your hands in his, he continued swiftly, "I was looking all over for you! Are you okay? What's wrong? Did I do something that hurt you? I'm sorry. Please don't be mad. I'll fix it–"

You shook your head, an artificial smile forming on your face. "I'm sorry, Ritsu. I just needed alone time... You didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

"T-Then why have you been avoiding me?" he quavered. "You've been ignoring my calls too... (Y/N), you know you can tell me anything, right? You can rely on me – I want you to rely on me..."

You stared into his deep red eyes, the ones that pleaded with you to be honest with him. You let out a sigh, nodding in agreement that talking to him would have been better than bottling these feelings up.

"There's something I never told you about..." you said. "About my past relationship..."

Ritsu looked confused, but stayed quiet for you to continue. Not once did he let go of your hands, and you were thankful for that.

"...The relationship was fine at first, but it gradually became harder to breathe in. He would get mad at everything I did, everything I said. It was like walking on eggshells... There were times I was hurt by it too – mentally and physically."

And as you expected, those red eyes of his looked horrified.

"It was a scary time, but I'm glad I was able to get out. Then I met you." You smiled at him genuinely this time, but it all faded away too quickly. "I didn't think I was ready to get into a new relationship, but you were so sweet, so kind... You made all my worries melt away. I was so happy, but I guess I shouldn't have been."

"(Y/N), what? I don't understand–"

"He found out I was dating you," you stated. "He found out I was attending Yumenosaki, where I live now. He texted me yesterday to insult me because I already got into a new relationship even though it had been a while. He wouldn't leave me alone despite the amount of times I blocked him! He just keeps creating new accounts and numbers. That's why I didn't answer your calls... I-I turned my phone off..."

"(Y/N)..."

"R-Ritsu, I'm so scared...!" you stuttered as tears fell down your cheeks. "I didn't know what to do, so I tried avoiding it... but I'm so scared..."

"Hey..." he said calmly, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, but thank you for telling me this. I'll handle the rest, okay?"

"H-Huh? But how?"

"Hmm... I'll tell the rest of Knights about it..." he muttered.

"Ritsu, what do you mean by that–"

"Hehe, don't worry about it~"

He stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, let's go back. Lunch is almost over." You hesitated but grabbed his hand as he pulled you up carefully. Once you were on your feet, he embraced you. He held your head to his chest, making you hear his heartbeat.

"You deserve to be happy, so don't worry about it anymore, alright?" he said. "(Y/N), I love you."

Lips pursed in order not to cry any more, you chuckled. "Thank you, Ritsu..." you whispered. "I love you too."

The next day, you stopped receiving those threatening messages from your ex. You wondered how Ritsu did it, but he never answered, leaving you clueless about the whole situation.

However, he did tell you that you shouldn't worry about your ex finding you anymore. He made sure to report the messages to the police with the help of Tsukasa. So now that the police were keeping an eye on him, you were able to relax.

"But what did you guys do anyway?" you asked Knights one day. "Ritsu never told me."

"Uhm– Oh– We didn't do much!" Arashi quickly stated, looking to the side. "We just reported it, that's it!"

"Eh...? Then Tsukasa, can you tell me–"

"I'm sorry, (Y/N), I can't."

"Izumi–"

"Nope."

"Leo?!"

"Not happening, (Y/N)!"

"Why are you all being so secretive?!"

"It's for your own good," Ritsu said sleepily as he entered the room. "(Y/N), can I use you as a pillow?"

You smiled. "Of course, come over here." As you patted your lap, Ritsu made his way over to you. He laid his head down on your legs happily as you began to stroke his hair.

"Can I have a kiss too?" he whispered. "After all, you didn't give me one last time~"

"Okay, okay~"

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips which he seemed to be very delighted about. You supposed it didn't matter how your boyfriend got your ex to back off. The past was the past, and you were going to leave that behind once and for all.

Anyways, your future was already fast asleep on your lap, lightly snoring away.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

[niki-phoria]

omg txt... hmmm... kai x reader where reader gets caught admiring kais greek god features hehe? gn or male, up to you!

pairing: kai x gn!reader genre: fluff word count: 813

a/n: this was such a cute idea tysm for requesting !! also this isn't really getting caught staring that's my bad lmao

a sudden weight falling on your shoulder makes you jump a little, stealing attention from the movie playing in the background. kai leans against you in a peaceful sleep, legs tangled with yours and his left arm thrown over your waist. you can feel your heartbeat picking up at the feeling of your crush laying against you. you hope the other boys don’t notice how flustered you are. 

cuddling with kai isn’t a new experience for you, though you’ve never been this close before. kai nuzzles closer to you in his sleep. you try to refocus on the movie but kai’s warm breath against your neck sends shivers down your skin. you shift a little, gently coaxing him to lay on your lap. from this angle you can see more of his face. messy brown curls frame his perfect face. his jawline almost looks sharper from this angle. his birthmarks are visible, small freckles decorating his face. gently, you trace your fingers along the marks on his temple, down his cheek, along his nose, and finally next to his lip. you move your hand from his face to play with the strands of his hair. it’s soft despite the years of bleaching and heat damage. you’re careful not to pull on the curls too harshly as you run your hands through it. 

you get so focused on kai that you don't even realize the movie has ended. your thoughts are interrupted by a snicker from next to you. from across the room beomgyu playfully rolls his eyes. “you two are so obvious.”

“what do you mean?” 

“do you have to be so coupley around us?” yeonjun whines. 

“we’re not dating though,” you furrow your eyebrows. kai stirs on your lap before moving closer to you. 

from across the room, soobin raises an eyebrow at you. “you’re not?” 

“no… i mean, i like him, but we haven’t talked about it.” 

“he likes you too, you know,” yeonjun says. the idea almost seems foreign to you. you fall back into silence as you debate confessing. vulnerability has never been your strongest trait, especially because you’ve never cared about someone as much as you care about kai. 

your thoughts are interrupted when taehyun pats your shoulder as he follows the rest of the boys out of the living room. “you should tell him. trust me.” you nod, watching him leave. 

once you’re completely alone with kai, you gently shake him awake. “kai,” you whisper. he squints up at you in the darkness, moving from your lap to sit up. 

“sorry,” he murmurs. you shake your head. 

“come on, let’s go to bed.” he nods, following you from the couch and into his room. 

kai falls asleep quickly, back pressed against your chest. his hand holds yours over his waist and your legs tangle together. the night gives you more time to think. your mind drifts through every moment you’ve shared with kai, every little action and thing he’s said that made you fall in love with him. love. you love him. 

“i love you,” you whisper into the darkness. kai doesn’t move at all. you’re glad he can’t hear you. after a few more restless minutes you sigh, burying your face into his shoulder and finally allowing sleep to take you. 

the next morning you wake up to the feeling of something against your neck. you shift a little before it happens again, this time on your jawline. then your cheek. forehead. nose. this time you open your eyes, fully awake. when you do, you’re greeted with a smiling kai leaning over you. “did you mean it?” 

a million thoughts run through your mind. even with reassurance from your friends, the idea of kai hearing your confession creates a ball of anxiety in your stomach. it presses against your chest, almost suffocating you. “mean what?” 

“last night. do you love me?” kai looks so happy as he hovers over you. you will your heartbeat to slow down as you study his face once again. you focus on the freckles above his eye. you’re worried that your voice will shake if you speak so you simply nod. kai moves his hand to run against your jawline, cupping your face. “can i kiss you?” 

your breath hitches at the question. your eyes flicker from kai’s to his lips. you nod once again before kai gently leans down to press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. you can feel his knees on either side of your waist. your hands move from his shoulders down to his hips, holding him closer. 

you smile when kai pulls away, leaning up to peck his jawline. his thumb rubs against your cheek. “be mine?” you whisper. 

kai’s face flushes, ears burning red. “only if you’ll be mine too.” you bite back a smile, pulling him back down into another deep kiss. 

[metallicaislife]

Let Me Take Care of You

A/N: This works for any era James but this right here is what I was picturing 😍

Requested by: Anon

Genre: 18+ Smut minors dni and fluff(mostly fluff tbh)

Word Count: 788

Warnings: p in v sex, m x f pairing, not overly explicit- a sweet love scene hehe

I waited at the hotel while Metallica put on their show tonight. Usually I attend every show possible to support my boyfriend, James, but I’ve noticed this tour he’s been more stiff and sore so I wanted to prepare something special. 

It was late when James sauntered in. I was sitting on the couch reading. He wordlessly walked over and plopped down next to me. He kissed me slowly then pulled away letting his head fall back against the couch.

“Hey, babe. How was the show?” I asked, situating myself to face him. Placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing softly. 

“It was great. I feel like hell though.” He replied. 

“I have a surprise for you.” I said. He peeled his eyes open and tilted his head to look at me. 

“Yeah?” He said as his hand came to rest on my thigh. 

“Yup! Strip to your boxers and lay on the bed face down.” I instructed. James smiled lazily and followed my instructions. As he laid I lit a eucalyptus scented candle. I grabbed some lotion then went to the bed. I climbed on and sat on his butt. I got some lotion on my hands rubbing it in a little then started to work my magic. James groaned as I worked my hands over his stiff muscles. 

“Oh my god, you’re an angel.” He mumbled, I smiled. 

“You always take such good care of me, it’s my turn to take care of you.” I said.

He winced as I began working on a knot in his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” I said but continued until the knot was gone. I was so happy to feel him melt under my touch. I thought he had fallen asleep, but I was wrong. He shifted beneath me turning onto his back. I squealed and fell forward bracing my arms on the bed around him. He wrapped his arms around me and rolled us over so he was on top. 

“What are you doing? I wasn’t done.” I said, searching his eyes. He had a soft smile on his lips. 

“I already feel so much better, love. Now I want to show my thanks.” He murmured and began leaving soft kisses over my face. Our lips met in a slow passionate kiss. He sat me up to remove my tank top, laid me back down and tenderly kissed the swells of my breasts. He moved down and took my pajama shorts off. He stared at my glistening cunt for a moment. 

“So beautiful, and all mine.” He said. 

James spread my legs and aligned himself with me, slowly pushing in. He leaned down, I wrapped my legs around his hips. Our lips met as he found a slow and sensual pace. My hands dug into his back. 

We don’t make love like this often, it’s usually fast and fun, but when we slow down and really show our love for one another it makes me melt. 

I came first, James soon after. We kissed a little while longer as he stayed sheathed inside me. He stared at me lovingly, tracing the contours of my face as I dragged my fingers lightly across his back. 

“I also got stuff for a bath.” I said grinning up at him. His blue eyes nearly disappeared as he smiled. 

“Let’s go then.” He kissed me once more before removing himself from my embrace. 

We walked into the bathroom and I turned the tub on adding some soothing Epsom salt and essential oils. 

James got in leaning against the back of the tub, I got in situating myself in front of him. He moved my hair and began nibbling on my shoulder. I giggled and leaned back against him. 

“What do you want to do when you get off tour?” I asked tracing his arms that circled around my waist. 

“See absolutely nobody but you for at least 2 weeks.” He said nuzzling my head. 

“That sounds nice.” I grinned. We took turns washing each other before getting out to dry off. He put on a pair of boxers and I stole one of his shirts. We crawled into bed. He laid on his back and I at his side, he pulled me in so I could rest my head on his chest.

“I love you.” James said, tracing soft shapes onto my back.

“I love you.” I said back to him. 

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, my love.” He said and kissed my forehead. 

“It’s a mutual effort of taking care of each other.” I replied and kissed his chest. He hummed in agreement. We drifted off together in the arms of the person we loved the most.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[cvsmixnaya]

aot cast with an art student partner

pairings: various!aot x art student!reader

pronouns: none used but its gender neutral.

a/n: these are for my art babes out there. coming from an art student which is me‼️ i’ll do fashion next cause i’m into that too😋 enjoy this random ass headcanon. also the middle pic is my art hehe

eren

he’s more of a music guy but art and music go hand in hand and i’m here for it. hell he’ll even play tunes on his guitar while you’re working on art projects cause it’s so relaxing. if he’s not playing on the guitar he’ll play music on a speaker and just sit with you and watch you work. sometimes you two are fighting over what song to play it’s actually hilarious. you will want lana del rey and he will want post malone. yall take turns to play music but you both can agree on arctic monkeys. this guy won’t admit but he loves watching you do your art. he just loves how focused you look. overall he can be a jackass cause it’s eren but you two get along perfectly because like i said, music and art go hand in hand

armin

you guys just don’t understand how much i love this man OH MY GOD. he admires you and your artwork so so much he keeps complimenting you and you just look at him like ‘🥹’ ok idk if it’s just me but it’s always the art students or any kind of design student that has such good fashion and that’s what armin also loves so much about you. he loves all the different outfits you pull off he literally said “you are the definition of ‘wear the dress don’t let the dress wear you” like OMG???? KISS ME??? but this guy does not like it when you stay up late working on art projects and consuming a shit ton of caffeine. he forces you to go to bed and work on it the next day cause he cares about your health and you cannot stop him. He loves watching you work and if you needed anything while working he will get it for you. in general he’s such a cutie and a sweetheart and i love him sm and if anyone hurts him, it’s over for you

mikasa

i feel like she would be an art student too so she understands the work and stress that goes down in assignments and tests. occasionally you two would sit together and work on your assignments together but most of the time yall prefer doing it separately. it’s nothing personal but you two agreed that nothing would get done so it’s better to do your thing alone. mikasa honestly admires your creativity so much and is just so impressed by your talent. she’s just so proud of you she’ll be like “that’s my partner!!” but plzzz i beg you to compliment her art because it makes her so happy that you think she has potential when she really does :(( sometimes you sit at starbucks with her and go over some ideas and brainstorm together, showing rough ideas while drinking iced coffee

levi

he really loves the quietness in the room with some music playing through the speaker connected to your phone. it’s not anything loud or chaotic. mainly cigarettes after sex cause it’s giving levi so much. he tends to give some suggestions with your work on how it can be better and most of the time they’re actually helpful and you look at him with squinted eyes wondering if he’s secretly an art student. he likes you watch you work while he drinks his tea and you drink your iced coffee or redbull (i love redbull sm). at night however, oh god. you love art so much that you’re willing to stay up till 2 am drawing random things and it’s not even an assignment. this man is DRAGGING you to bed and your literally just fighting for your life to go back and finish that sketch but he makes you sleep and you get so pissed about it but fall asleep when your head hits the pillow😭

hange

they’re like armin but with some extra energy. they are genuinely so curious with what you work on and what kind of materials you use. if you’re working on a canvas they love seeing how well you use acrylic paints and mix them to make a new colour and they find it so aesthetically pleasing and they don’t know why. they just stare at you like a god/goddess with heart eyes. they love it so much they asked you to teach them basics. you of course said yes but poor hange just could not understand what was happening i feel so bad for them. you both came to the conclusion that hange was not made for art but they still admire it.

porco

this bastard literally teases you but you know he means well. he actually helps around a lot which shocks you. if you needed something, he will speed run to get whatever you need. let it be water, paint, tissue. whatever it is, he suddenly becomes a track star and gets what you need. even though he teases you, he loves what you do knowing damn well he can’t do it. he does tend to distract you though just so you can pay attention to him while you’re working and you just look at him like ‘boy wtf-’ but in the end, he’s so proud of you and he does love you. he just likes to make fun of you but dw he’s a sweetheart and doesn’t mean it. he just has ego issues PFFTT

live laugh love art😇‼️‼️

[miowritings]

HIHI, this is my first request ever so i hope im doing it right- could i have a reader who’s really impulsive when their tired or sleepy, like their too tired to care about what they say. then their laying on their crush’s lap and they suddenly cup their face and start complimenting and admiring them then confess and swhhrcbjsscc preferably written with akito, minori and whoever u like!!! (sorry if this was too detailed.) TY <3

A/N: omgg, this is soo cute😭🩷‼️ im actually like that irl but instead of compliments i say random sht? Anywayzz here ya go and i hope you like em🫶

Sudden confession

Gn! Reader x akito shinonome & minori hanasato (akito might be ooc...)

Minori Hanasato

You were laying in minori's lap after a hard day, you could finally visit your best friend and feel relaxed. Minori brushes your hair with her fingers and proceeds to talk about her day

"We had lots of fun today! Airi is teaching me this choreography of this one song i like! We're planning on-"

Minori pauses herself, wondering why you suddenly out a strand of her hair behind her hair

"Hm? You know i could do that myself right?" She says playfully, you smiled at her playfulness and began telling her how you feel, you werent sure why, you just did..

"Minori, i love you, more than friends.. hehe" y/n says playfully before falling asleep, leaving minori in a state of shock, confusion and happiness

"W-WHAAAT?! Y/N! WAKE UP! DONT J-JUST FALL ASLEEP!" Minori screams, shaking you to hopefully wake you up, she also wants to tell you that she feels the same way

Akito Shinonome

You just got home after school and the sun was begining to set, you sat on your bed playing your phone and doing nothing, you then decided to do your homework.

Once you opened your bag you see that your notebook was nowhere to be found, you panicked a bit, the deadline was tomorrow and the notebook was nowhere to be seen, you suddenly remembered that a certain close friend of yours borrowed it to take some notes, you then proceed to call him.

"Hey, kito.. where's my notebook? Do not tell me you left it at school..." You asked, you could hear akito groaning "chill i accidentally put it on my bag, ill just.. return it tomorow" he shruggs, you sighed in annoyance and began to tell him that you needed that notebook to finish some assigments.

"If you want that notebook then just, come to my place.. i mean.. we live pretty close right? Youre just.. right around the corner.." he suggested "what?! No way! Im not walking, you brought my notebook with you, you should be the one to return it.!" You fought back, making sure to emphasize your words.

"Well.. then im not giving it to you, bye" akito says in a sing-song voice "w-wait! Ugh.. fine ill get it.. dont copy my homework tomorow kay?" You added, akito groaned "fine, finee.."

After minutes of walking you knocked the door of the shinonome household, you were greeted with akito, wearing pajamas and carrying a bag of chips, he coughed when seeing you "o-oh you actually came.. yeah uh.. the notebooks right in my bag.. ill go get it" he responded when he left, you could see the tv playing, it was your favorite movie! When akito came back he saw you staring at the television.

"Hm? You know this show too? Hm.. wanna watch it with me?" He asks, before he knows it you were already inside his house watching the television. You wondered.. why werent his parents home? and where was his sister?

"Hey akito, wheres your dad? Or your sis?" You ask, akito simply shrugged and replied nonchalantly "my sister doing something at her room...probably drawing or talking to her friends.. my mom's out with her friends and my dad is staying late for work" you simply nodded and continued watching the movie, soon enough you found yourself falling asleep, akito doesnt notice this but begins to notice when it suddenly got too quiet..

"Hm.? Y/n you alright- oh hell no.." he mutters, you were sleeping peacefully, akito wants to wake you up.. but at the same time.. he doesnt afterall he did drag you out in the middle of the night just for you to get the notebook that he stole, akito sighs and puts a pillow below your head, he sighs and whispers ".. what did i get myself into.." you shuffle around and mutter quietly "mm.. like... You too... Kito.." you mutter, akito overhears this and instantly turns red.

"Y-YOU WHAT?!" He screams and instantly covers his mouth, you groaned a bit and continued sleeping, akito was surely thankful that you were a heavy sleeper. "Oh thank god..." He sighs with relief ".. i like you too dumbass.. took you long enough.." he says quietly with a tone of playfulness. He arranges your sleeping position so that your comfortable.

Bonus:

Akito sneakily took your phone and then took a pic of your sleeping face and sets it as your wallpaper "theyre gonna love it.." he grins mischievously, after hours you finally wake up, you grabbed your notebook and quietly leave the house, when you checked what time it is you went red with embarrassment it was a pic of yourself sleeping! You'll surely get him next time.!

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the loyal knight

Pairing: Silver x gn!reader

Synopsis: you simply adored his very existence, everything single part of him

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for silver, bot proofread

Word count: 606

Notes: ngl i found silver kinda boring at first but i'm glad to say fairy gala remix and other snippets of lore have endeared him to me. happy birthday silver!

Masterlist

Your lover's eyes are a mesmerizing masterpiece, pools of blue and purple hues that you could stare into forever. Within their depths, an ethereal quality dances, as if the colours themselves were blessed by the tender caress of the dawn's first light. When his eyes lock with yours, time stands still, and you find yourself lost in their enchanting splendour. In those captivating eyes, you witness the reflection of his soul, a kind spirit that calls out to you, urging you to delve deeper into his being.

Your lover's tendency to drift into slumber, no matter the circumstance, may exasperate those around him, but to you, it's an endearing aspect of his character, adding a unique charm that you simply can't resist. You can’t help but smile when he falls asleep during classes or training, unable to resist the allure of sleep despite his best efforts.

Your lover tries to stay awake for you determinedly. You see the exhaustion etched upon his face, yet he persists, striving to be fully present with you. But alas, despite his best efforts, his eyelids grow heavy, and his body begins to sway with fatigue. His eyes flutter closed, and his body relaxes and ventures into the realm of dreams. Though sleep claims him, you know that when he awakens, he will be refreshed and ready to spend time with you once more. And in those moments of wakefulness, you will treasure his affection and attention, knowing full well the love he holds for you.

Your lover's laid-back nature draws you in, captivating you with its charm. His naivety sometimes leads to misunderstandings, but it only makes you love him more. You find beauty in his ability to see the best in everyone and everything, even when the world appears grim. He brings light into your life, and when you're together, a fluffy, optimistic atmosphere envelope you both. It may irritate some, but to you, it's a magical space where love and positivity thrive.

Your lover is a knight, a valiant soul committed to honour and duty. His dedication is a testament to the love and gratitude he holds for those who raised him. Through the haze of his somnolence, he strives to repay their kindness, his heart set on protecting those he cherishes. When it comes to those dear to him, caution awakens within him, transforming his demeanour into one of vigilance and protection. His usually serene eyes sharpen, his steps become measured and deliberate. In those moments, you witness the depths of his love and loyalty, his devotion unwavering.

You love how he remains composed and level-headed, carefully weighing each situation before making decisions. In moments of crisis, you trust him to guide you with his steady hand and wise judgment. He is not talkative, but you find solace in the quiet moments spent together. His willingness to listen, to absorb your thoughts and opinions without judgment, creates a safe haven where your voice is valued.

The sleepy gaze he casts upon you, the unwavering dedication he pours into every aspect of his life, and even his endearing absent-mindedness, they all intertwine, creating a tapestry of love that is both gentle and fierce. Every moment spent with him is like a vibrant brushstroke across the sky, an ethereal dance of colours in the canvas of your love. Just like the northern lights so alike his eyes, as the aurora borealis stretches across the horizon, your bond illuminates the depths of your souls, the magic of your love lights up the darkest corners, bringing warmth and comfort to even the coldest nights.

Your lover, is none other than Silver.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[zenonaa]

💛 togafuka! (either reunion after canon separation, or you can even do a high school reunion AU, hehe)

[ao3]

Growing up, Touko was no stranger to despair, as if it had been just another member of her family. However, the past few years have been fraught with despair on a whole other scale. Personified by that deranged bear, she couldn't escape it, whether Monobear was forcing her into a killing game or hunting her in packs through a derelict city. Each day, she has felt as though electricity is constantly running across her skin. Her eyes see shadows that aren’t there. She tastes copper.

Even when Byakuya (and Makoto) come to collect her (and Komaru) from Towa City, she still can’t relax. All there is time to do is be whisked into a helicopter, where she can’t hear much above its blades’ loud bee-like stutter and Komaru’s constant chatter. At least Touko gets to sit next to Byakuya for the journey. They don’t talk, but she doesn’t mind. So long as she can look at him, she's happy, even if he spends most of the trip staring silently out of the window. She’s happy, even if her fingers wring her skirt, over and over.

Upon learning of the date that they would be leaving Towa City, Touko had started a tally. Not like the one on her thigh, but on a scrap of paper that she stored in her bra. That she took out and reread and felt warm at. Every night, she would fall asleep to fantasies of him bursting out of the helicopter, swooping her into his arms and calling her his little piggy.

It’s been over a year since she last saw Byakuya in person. All Touko wants to do is be near him, but when they arrive at Hope’s Peak, she doesn’t even get a chance to change into new clothes before she’s tasked with helping clear out their old school. For the next couple of days, instead of hanging around Byakuya, she finds herself lugging crates and cleaning up debris.

With each chore, her clothes grow dirtier and tattier. While sweeping up some glass into a dustpan, her sleeve snags on the uplifted edge of a floor tile, adding another tear to her blouse. She swears.

“F-Fuck!”

“Hey, Fukawa.”

Recognising Byakuya’s voice, Touko jolts, her head snapping in his direction. He strides over at a leisurely pace. Despite their drab surroundings, he is immaculate. His suit is without creases, and save for the faint furrow in his brows, his face is clear. It’s not that he hasn’t been working - he has been behind all the organising, making sure everything is running smoothly. No, he's just that damn beautiful.

“Byakuya-sama!” Touko stands up and squeezes her hands together. She's well aware that she's as dirty as he is clean. It had been fine for Cinderella, whose Prince Charming professed his love while she was dressed in rags. That was a fairytale, and Byakuya is no prince. He's basically a god. Worth ten gods at least.

Instead of a glass slipper, Byakuya pulls out a bulky parcel that he had been carrying beneath his armpit and holds it toward her. “Your new uniform. I need you to try it on to make sure it fits.”

“Y-You want me to model for you?” asks Touko, taking it from him. She thinks back to the magazines her father used to read. That she would sometimes copy poses from, for him to enjoy in the flesh.

“For a formerly renowned author, your choice of wording leaves a lot to be desired,” says Byakuya, scowling. “I’ll wait here while you quickly change in one of the nearby classrooms. Call for me when you're ready and not a moment before.”

Even if Byakuya did catch sight of her in her underwear, it wouldn’t have been the first time he had seen them. Though hers are black today, not red, and they’re both in a corridor rather than on his dorm room's bed. But reminding him of their rendezvous only ever flusters Byakuya or puts him on the defensive.

While his shyness about it is endearing, in order to keep him from walking very briskly away for the rest of the day, Touko manages to bite her tongue, her cheeks as hard as apples. She darts into a nearby classroom, and with her stubby nails, picks apart the parcel. Her heart flutters as she wonders what the outfit will be. Maid attire, for working under Byakuya. A sheer lace dress, also for working under Byakuya. Really, after wearing rags for so long, she would be happy with anything. 

Well. Almost anything. Touko cringes as the image of a replica of her old high school uniform flashes in her mind, no longer dirty and torn. Just thinking about it makes her chest clench. To put it on would be like wearing a straitjacket. But Byakuya wouldn't play a trick like that. He never does tricks. Never on her.

Brown paper scatters from her fingers. Curls of sellotape sway as they fall. Touko extracts the first item, a dark grey jacket with golden buttons. Next is a white blouse, neatly folded. With some careful manoeuvring, she takes off her current blouse and replaces it with the new, all without putting the parcel down. Then, once her jacket’s on too, she places her old blouse onto the closest desk and continues dissecting the parcel.

Black stockings. Purple tie. A skirt with a slit, the same colour as her jacket. There are no shoes, but the heels she has now make do. When she finishes getting changed, she swivels her body, trying to get a good look at herself. It’s not a school uniform. It’s not a servant’s outfit. It’s similar to what her peers wear.

If only she had a mirror. Though she knows what she’s wearing, she wants to see herself so badly.

She remembers someone else wants to see her too.

“I’m dressed,” she says.

A couple of seconds pass before the door opens and Byakuya graces her vision once more. He stands in the doorway, and as his gaze falls on her, his eyebrows rise a fraction. His eyes flicker.

“I-Is it to your liking?” she asks.

Byakuya’s brow furrows and he walks over. When he reaches Touko, he pauses only for a moment, then he slowly circles her. She swallows, trying to stay still, but she can’t stop trembling. His scent coils around her. Lime, lavender, musk.

“More importantly, is it to your satisfaction?” he asks, stopping in front of her.

Touko hugs herself. She’s still trembling slightly. The air remains heavy with his aroma. With his presence.  “Y-Yes. I love it.”

“Excellent.” Byakuya’s mouth curves into a faint smile. “I actually designed your attire, so you know.”

Her head jerks. “Y-You did?”

“That’s what I said.”

Minutes ago, he had all but stated that he didn’t wish to see her stripped down, yet now she feels as though she is naked. As if instead of clothes, she is swathed in his embrace. A smile nestles in her lips as her cheeks grow hotter.

“Byakuya-sama’s levels of expertise are unfathomable,” she remarks, gripping herself harder. But she can’t say she’s surprised. He’s capable of so, so much. “It's a-an honour to be wearing your design.”

He pulls a face.

“It’s been too long now. I must insist you drop that honorific,” he says.

Touko’s smile falls off instantly. “You w-want me to call you Togami-kun?”

Like Makoto, or Kyouko, or like so many other people. Many dead, many more insignificant. There's a knife on her heartstrings.

“Actually...” Byakuya adjusts his glasses, looking over her head. “Just... Just Byakuya will do.”

His words don't sink in immediately. Then she stirs. Stares. “Ehh???”

Despite what some of the others may think, she can differentiate between her fantasies and real life. Most of the time, anyway. What Byakuya just said to her fogs up her brain, blurs the distinction between the two. This feels real. The dirt under her nails feels real, as does the saliva she gulps down.

“Why are you acting like I just sneezed?” he snaps. He fiddles with his glasses more. “I said what I said. It's common sense. You've saved my life on multiple occasions. For there to be a situation even someone of my calibre was in danger... that requires commendable strength. You’ve earned the right. As exceptional as I am, I must concede you have proven yourself over the years to be as close to my level as any other human can be.”

Touko chews her lip, her heart hammering in her chest. For all her life, she has been thrown from one hell into another, over and over, accomplishing nothing but survival. Then when she met Byakuya and Komaru, she continued to just survive, except those times she did it with them. Like a roach.

It’s a rare occasion where she's hesitant to agree with him, but if Byakuya said she’s strong, it must be true. And it's not like this is the first time he has complimented her. Yet this is different to finding a knife and giving a ‘fine report’. This is better. So much better.

“So this outfit is a way of commending me on my strength?” she asks.

“You could say that.”

She pokes her index fingers together. A grin crawls across her face. “If you designed an outfit for me to look nice in, does that mean you want me around you more?”

“It's not that I want you to look nice. I want you to feel nice,” he says before setting a hand against his forehead and grimacing. “Argh, my IQ seems to dwindle the more I talk to you. Hell, even when we're apart, it's almost like I can tell what you're thinking about.”

Byakuya doesn’t elaborate. He moves the conversation on, giving her little time to think about what he just said.

“It’s ridiculous that the Future Foundation didn’t give you a uniform, or that we were all inducted as full members apart from you. All of us pushed for you to receive a promotion whenever we could, you know. Especially me. I wasn’t just training you to control your alter, but advocating for you in various committee meetings. I told the higher ups that instead of an intern, you could be my assistant... that you would be useful... but those fools had no brain cells between them. No respect. No class.”

Her skin prickles as she recalls their training sessions, those late nights in his office after they had both finished work for the day. Sometimes they would use a taser, other times he brought a knife. He had come up with a theory that they proved correct together, that Touko could stomach seeing his blood. The memory of him nicking his finger against the blade makes her shudder almost as much as when she actually witnessed it. She remembers how alongside nausea, a strong desire to protect him had burned in her gut. From there, she built up a resistance to other people’s blood and to the sight of more blood.

But she didn’t know about the committee meetings.

She also doesn’t know where he’s taking this conversation.

“It doesn’t matter now,” says Byakuya. “As the Future Foundation is no more.”

“We're still here though,” she replies quietly.

“Yes. That's right.” His gaze fixes on her, steady, and he touches a hand to her waist. “We are.”

Her heart shoots upward, jamming in her throat. Somehow words manage to barge their way out of her mouth.

“I've missed you.”

“I know.” Byakuya blinks slowly. “Touko.”

His voice is raindrop light, yet it hits her like a downpour. He hangs over her like the Sun, but then in the same way that it sets each day, his head dips down. And like how it rises, Touko’s heels lift off the ground. Their lips gravitate before connecting, slow enough that their glasses meet without clicking. Her hands grasp at the front of his shirt, to keep her upright, so she doesn't fall to her knees. As if at any moment, the waking world will try to drag her back into its belly.

But instead it’s Byakuya who pulls away. Despite how the kiss could only have lasted a few seconds, her lips tingle without his warmth, exposed to the cold air. Keeping his hand on her waist, his other plucks a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wipes it across his lips.

Touko’s heart sinks. She knows she should be happy they even kissed at all. That even for a moment, he had graced her lips with his touch. And yes, this isn’t their first kiss. It’s not even their first kiss while inside this building. But it’s their first kiss since he called her ‘Touko’, and while the ones before with Fukawa stayed stained on his lips, this one is crumpled away in a handkerchief.

She’s still lost in thought when he touches her lips again, this time as he rubs the handkerchief against her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she barely has time to process what's happening before the handkerchief comes away with a smudge of grime on it.

“That’s better,” he murmurs. “I could only taste dirt. But now...”

He tucks his thumb under her chin, tilts her head up, and returns his lips to hers. This time, he doesn’t go anywhere, and she’s determined not to either. They both stay, her skin tingling with a warm glow as their mouths press and grind together. Though her eyes are shut, she sees his face in the darkness behind her lids. And as their lips gently part and their tongues brush together, she tastes coffee and saliva and hope and him.