“Some Things Go Too Deep To Be Forgotten.”

“Are you really not going to complain even once?”

yoongi x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s a little handyman Min helping reader/Kid with some simple home improvement projects. He’s super sweet and adorable about it and she’s annoying but he’s endeared. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

p.s. Happy birthday to our favorite honey boy! It’s Yoongi day!!! 

Observing your boyfriend from the bathroom doorway, you smirked at the little grunts that echoed through the room. Every twist of his wrench was accompanied by a low grumble from Yoongi’s throat. If he wasn’t fixing your sink out of the goodness of his heart, his undying love for you, and your complete inability to do it yourself, you’d tease him for being a grandpa.

When he arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes earlier, you had ambushed him with the home improvement project. He left a sweet kiss on your cheek as he entered your living room, immediately pulling his eyebrows together when you flashed him a pout. “What?”

“My bathroom sink is leaking,” you sighed.

The man glanced toward the bathroom in thought, a small pout taking over his own mouth. It just naturally did that. “Are the tools I left for you still in the hall closet?”

“If that’s where you left them,” you smirked, drawing your boyfriend’s attention back to you. He gave you a gummy smile and a slight shoulder shake as he laughed silently.

Keep reading

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One Hundred Ways to Say ‘I Love You’

“Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.”

“It reminded me of you.”

“No, no, it’s my treat.”

“Come here.  Let me fix it.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Have a good day at work.”

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Take my seat.”

“I saved a piece for you.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You can have half.”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I made your favourite.”

“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Watch your step.”

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel better.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“You can borrow mine.”

“You might like this.”

“It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Just because.”

“Look both ways.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Try some.”

“Drive safely.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“One more chapter.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“After you.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like your laugh.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I made this for you.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Is this okay?”

“I picked these for you.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“What do you want to watch?”

“You can go first.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have fun.”

“Sit down, I’ll get it.”

“I made reservations.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It brings out your eyes.”

“There is enough room for both of us.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Wow.”

“Happy birthday.”

“I’ll pick it up after work.”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“It’s two sugars, right?”

“I’ll help you study.”

“Stay over.”

“I did the dishes.”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

“I bought you a ticket.”

“You’re warm.”

“No reason.”

“I’ll meet you halfway.”

“Take mine.”

“We can share.”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“I want you to have this.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Do you want to come too?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Sweet dreams.”

“I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

“The key is under the mat.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re important too.”

“I saved you a seat.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I noticed.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I believe in you.”

“You can do it.”

“Good luck.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Be careful.”

  And…

  100.  “I love you.”

touch (mark lee)

lowercase intended

“stop touching me,” mark tells haechan, removing the said man’s arm from his shoulders. “y/n, how do you deal with your boyfriend being like this?” haechan asks. you giggle at the scene in front you. mark isn’t really fond of physical touches even with you, his girlfriend. you have been dating for 5 months now, and you were used to it. he wouldn’t even let you hold his hands for more than a minute. it made you sad at first, but he explained that he just doesn’t like being touched often, and you understood him. it doesn’t mean he loves you less.

a month after

you and mark were both sitting on his couch, watching a movie you weren’t paying attention to anymore. you were busy looking at mark, and how cuddly he looks. you know how it will end if you try to cuddle— him subtly pushing you off him after a few minutes— but you would take those few minutes in his arms any day, so you slowly position yourself, and cuddle him. he wraps his hands around you, and gives you kisses on your forehead. you smile at him, and seize the moment. after a minute, you slowly get off him knowing he would do it himself. “where are you going?” he asks. “hmm? just here beside you,” you smile at him. “come here, let’s cuddle,” he pouts. “getting used to my touches now?” you joke, “the only touch i want on me forever.”

uuuuuu mungkin tumblr be dropping hints now

“Maybe you’ve met the right person, but you’re just not ready to fall in love.”

— Unknown

chill

---

man :| i feel like punching myself

“No, it’s fine.  I can wait until you’re done talking to them.” with Yuta please🤎

When Yuta comes over, you’re talking on the phone to your parents. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to see them face-to-face, so it’s nice to at least be able to catch up like this. Yuta sneaks through the front door, takes off his shoes, lays his coat over the arm of the sofa, and he sits down at the other end of the sofa from you, just looking at you and smiling and you can tell that there’s something on his mind that he really wants to say. He’s pretty much bouncing in his seat.

You pull the phone away from your mouth but keep it at your ear as your mother goes on jabbering about something. “What?” You ask Yuta.

He shakes his head, holds his finger to his lips and points at the phone.

“She’ll talk for forever if I let her,” you whisper to him. “What is it?”

But Yuta knows that you’ve been missing your parents, that you don’t always get the chance to have long conversations catching up with them. He shakes his head again more vehemently. “No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”

So you bring the phone back toward your mouth, resuming conversation with them.

When you said your mother could go on talking for forever, you meant it. She keeps talking, your father occasionally interjecting to ask you random questions or throw out points to enhance your mother’s stories. After a while you’ve honestly kind of forgotten that Yuta’s sitting there with you, but then he scoots closer and you can’t help but sink toward him, his gravity pulling you in. And then he reaches for your free hand. He starts playing with your fingers, then after a while he moves up to playing with your hair, touching your neck and cheek. Then he’s back to playing with your hand.

You’re so distracted now that you stumble over your words while speaking to your parents. You’ve been on the phone with them for hours, said everything you think you could possibly say, and now with Yuta here touching you all over, you think it’s time to say goodbye, so you quickly do.

Your mother ends the call and as your screen goes dark again, you toss your phone down into your lap and turn your attention to your boyfriend.

“What were you so excited about when you got in?”

Yuta shakes his head, still smiling. “Nothing. I could just tell that you were talking to your parents. You were smiling and laughing in that free way you do when it’s them. It just made me really happy. And I wanted to tell you I love you.”

That’s nothing new. Yuta tells you he loves you every day, all the time. He says it first thing when he wakes up and before he falls asleep. He tells you while he’s eating lunch, when he sees something or hears something that reminds him of you. He tells you when you’re falling asleep on his shoulder, when you’re just fixing your hair on a breezy day. He says it all the time, but something about the way Yuta says it in that moment feels different and greater.

“I love you too, Yuta.”

thank you to everyone who sent these in! prompts/requests are now closed, but I’ll be working on the ones I got before this! to see more drabbles you can click here

Jaemin now

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: our kitchen | ldh

summary | moving in with your boyfriend is a great idea—just don't forget to ask him if he knows how to build furniture (or how to build anything, really).

genre | fluff, a bit of unseriousness

wc | 1.1k

a/n: the glimo digipack jeno pc i bought shipped 💪 anyways shocked im managing to post before 12am in my timezone (and semi proud of myself?) anyways, i hope you enjoy !!

THERE WERE MANY THINGS you were looking forward to when you and your boyfriend decided to move in together.

Apartment searching had been at the top of that list. It seemed so…idyllic, walking through empty rooms and imagining what pieces of furniture would go where. Sitting at a restaurant and discussing pricing, location, what you needed and didn’t care for—and, of course, being able to even discuss that with someone. Plus, you and Donghyuck had nearly identical tastes in housing, so it had been a breeze finding what you needed.

Of course, after that, there was the cheesy couple stuff you’d both watched your friends do, time and time again. Donghyuck had been insistent on doing dumb photoshoots in the vacant rooms and taking a picture of you two holding the keys to your new home. He’d even made you think up a witty caption together, and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the smug face he made as he pressed the ‘post’ button.

After that came time for you both to pack up your old apartments. It was a lot easier for him than it was for you, as he had multiple roommates, so most of his stuff was only in his room. You, however, had glassware to wrap and sofas to sell, so your packing experience took much longer than his. Donghyuck, in his excitement, helped every step of the way, doing essentially all the heavy lifting (which you were very thankful for).

Then, you had to get furniture.

Initially, you thought that would be the most exciting part of your move. And, to an extent, it was; you must’ve spent hours in miscellaneous furniture stores around town, sitting on possible couches and inspecting about a million refrigerators. You’d bought pretty much everything you needed, and most of it was under your budget, so your pockets weren’t hurting much, either.

Furniture, most of the time, needed to be put together. And, not wanting to waste money, you and Donghyuck mutually agreed that you’d assemble everything yourselves, rather than hiring a bunch of people to do it for you.

That was fine, seriously. You’d assembled mostly all of the furniture in your old apartment, and you figured Donghyuck had probably put a few things in his lifetime.

Wrong. He hadn’t. In fact, he’d never even looked at an instruction manual before he handed his buildable stuff off to Jeno. Even when he was a kid, he had no interest in legos or building blocks—Lee Donghyuck hadn’t built a thing in his life.

Which leads you to right now. So far, you’d put together the TV stand, your bed frame, and two nightstands you’d bought off the internet, all by yourself. Initially, you’d thought that he’d at least be able to help you through reading out directions and handing you things, but that might’ve been silly of you. With Donghyuck’s inability to keep his mouth shut—this trait was helpful, most of the time—he found joy in twisting directions and handing you the wrong things.

To be fair, the antics had been funny and almost endearing at first, but, now, you want your constant building to be over. Of course, you can only get him out of the apartment ever so often, which means he’ll be right next to you until you finish building this desk.

“I don’t get these instructions,” he said, snatching up the pamphlet from next to you. He was pushing you to your limits today, pressing every visible button and sprinkling salt into every wound. Donghyuck was lucky you loved him as much as you did. “Why aren’t there any words? It’s just confusing pictures.”

Putting down your screwdriver, you snatched the directions out of his hands, returning them to where you could see them. “They’re not confusing when you start from the beginning.”

“Whatever,” he hummed, leaning his head on your shoulder. For the whole time you’d been building the desk, he’d sat right next to you, periodically nudging you or laying on you in an attempt to get attention. “So, where is this going? Did we decide mutually or was it a decision you made?”

Sighing, you went back to lining up the desk’s legs with the appropriate screw-holes, wrenching them to the base-wood with as much force as you could muster.

“Bedroom.”

“Oh, really? I heard working in your bedroom can hurt your sleep schedule. Are you sure we don’t have anywhere else to put it?”

“Pretty sure.”

Unfortunately, Donghyuck had already pulled up an article about the subject, beginning to read it aloud for his personal enjoyment. “Working in the bedroom establishes unhealthy associations between your bed and work, making it difficult to mentally disconnect when you’re trying to fall asleep. Additionally—”

“Hyuck. My favorite person. Love of my life. Boyfriend,” you finally said, dropping the screwdriver once again. As kindly as you could, you took him by the chin and raised his head. Donghyuck looked a bit confused, staring at you with an air-headed look that you loved a lot.

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of god, shut up. Just until I finish this.”

He frowned at that, grabbing your wrist and lifting you off the floor with him. “All you’ve done for this entire week is build. I get wanting to be done with this, or whatever, but take a break for a bit,” he said, dragging you into the living room. You offered little resistance, knowing that, once you’d stopped, you wouldn’t want to go back to it.

“Finish it tomorrow. Let’s go out to dinner and do something fun instead of sitting in our kitchen messing with a pile of wood.”

He turned to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders. You smiled at him, feeling a bit giddy now.

“Our kitchen,” you repeated, dragging him into a hug.

“Our apartment.”

Even if he’d driven you to the brink of insanity this week, he was still your beloved Lee Donghyuck, your beloved boyfriend, and, now, your beloved roommate. You would enter a new era of your life, side-by-side, moving through the years together. Even if you had to build all the furniture in your shared apartment.

“Okay, we can go to dinner,” you agreed, half-pulling away from him. “Or, we could make dinner together. In our kitchen.”

thank you for reading!!

🌼 picnic - choi vernon (500 follower special) 🌼

ask: 'for your 500 follower event, could i get a fluff drabble with husband!vernon about going on a surprise picnic with fem wife? Ty ty also congrats :)) you deserve it~' - @hanzzzol

genre: lots of fluff! + husband!vernon au

content warnings: none that i know of!

wc: 1k (a drabble, yeah)

a/n: thank you for both the request and the kind words my lovely! this was such a cute idea and i hope i did it justice 💞 feedback is of course always appreciated, and the 500 follower event can be found here :)

The world seemed to still as your eyes met, both of you staring at one another like a deer caught in headlights. Vernon blinked first, rapidly, swallowing hard.

“What are you doing home?” You broke the heavy silence with furrowed brows, finally shaking your shock and frankly just happy you weren’t in the middle of a home invasion. He looked down at the lamp you were grasping in your hands and burst into laughter, the reality of the situation setting in.

“Did you bring that to attack me with?” He choked out around giggles, causing your face to heat up as you set the porcelain base on the countertop.

“I brought it to attack whomever was robbing my home, actually,” you scoffed in response, padding over to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. His sweater was soft against your cheek, and even though it smelled of the detergent you always used, he smelled like home. “I thought you left for work?” He raised a hand to pet your hair, smiling fondly as your words were muffled by his clothes.

“We have the day off today, I just wanted to surprise you,” he murmured into your hair as he pressed a kiss into it. “I went to the store, look!” You reluctantly pried your face away to look at the kitchen countertop before you, wondering how you hadn’t seen the assortment of finger foods when you’d initially walked in. Sandwiches were in the process of being cut up into cute triangles and various fruits were packed into tupperware containers, fresh pastries nestled in greaseproof paper beside them. He started towards the living room, begrudgingly removing your arms from his sides. He felt like every part of you was made for him, as you fit together so perfectly, like you were a puzzle piece he’d been missing. He adored your warmth and your scent, the way you nuzzled into him at any given opportunity, the way he could feel you smile against him even when he couldn’t see your face.

Your hand fit snugly in his as he led you through the doorway, gesturing proudly to the sofa. Sat atop the cushions was a wicker basket, delicately weaved, large and spacious with white ribbons adorning the handles and circling the middle. You gasped at how pretty it was before it hit you; you’d mentioned in passing that you’d never been on a picnic before a few weeks ago when Vernon had chosen Emma for your weekly film night, but you hadn’t put much thought into it.

“You remembered that?” You smiled softly, touched by the gesture, and he nodded with a grin.

“I might forget my own birthday sometimes, but I never forget anything you tell me,” he chuckled as you pulled him in for a chaste kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Thank you,” you whispered, to which he kissed you briefly again.

“Anything for you, wifey,” he cooed, chortling when you exaggeratedly pretended to gag. “I’ll finish the food, get ready to head out.”

The breeze was soft, tousling your hair and tickling your skin as you laughed heartily with your husband. The sky was azure and entirely clear, deep blue fading to a silvery pale hue on the horizon, and the trees rustled gently as if conversing with one another. Magpies sat among the leaves, calling out and singing, but the sound was drowned out by shrieking children playing nearby. The food was delicious, moreso in your opinion because you were enjoying it with your favourite person in your favourite park. You pointed every dog you saw out to him with an excitement he was always quick to mirror, and earned kisses all over your face as a result, him squealing about how you were irresistibly cute.

Eventually, you let your head fall into Vernon’s lap as you giggled at another one of his silly jokes, not missing the way his face softened when he looked down at you. He brushed a strand of hair from your face and let his hand rest warmly on your cheek, both of you falling suddenly quiet as you simply observed one another.

“You’re so pretty,” he hummed after a moment, eyes scanning over your face tenderly.

“You see my face like, every day,” you chuckled, trying to wave off his compliment in spite of the knowledge he could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “Even when you’re on tour, I’m literally your phone wallpaper,” you picked his phone up from the gingham blanket and showed him the screen as if he were somehow unaware, making him scoff.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still absolutely angelic,” he said, pressing his lips into a thin line as he took his phone back and with it, your focus. “If anything I find you even prettier with every day that we’re married.” You pouted at his words, inexplicably shy, which caused him to grin fondly. “You’re adorable, too,” he laughed, reaching for the pot of strawberries he’d been eating before you’d distracted him and holding one to your lips. You took a small bite and hummed, feeling entirely peaceful, as he put the rest of the fruit in his mouth and sighed contentedly through his nose. He leaned back on one arm, using it to hold his weight while the other stroked your hair, occasionally removing it again to feed you another strawberry, his mouth turning up every time you whined at the loss of touch. You watched the children in the playground before casting your eyes back to your husband’s annoyingly perfect, chiselled face, finding him surveying them as well.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked quietly, almost inaudibly, to which he shook his head.

“I think that’s a discussion for another time,” he replied wistfully, to which you nodded, snuggling further into his lap. “We should definitely make a routine of this, whenever we have the time,” you closed your eyes and hummed in agreement.

“I just enjoy spending my time with you, no matter what we do.”

The idea of love oddly scares me now a days. The thought of giving my whole self to another… maybe it’s the fear that someone may throw it away? Or maybe the love I have to offer isn’t enough? Or possibly I’m someone who isn’t meant to be loved? Love is such a confusing, yet wonderful thing in life. We will never truly understand the meaning of “love” and what they stand for, but it’s one of the things us human beings  yearn for. Love can be so many things and I think that’s why it’s a gut wrenching fear within me.

Thank you for joining my Ted talk on love.

P.s I know love is scary, but try your best everyday to spread love to those around you.