#i loved this so so so much please watch it

[royalarchivist]

Bad: I don’t think people understand the effect QSMP had on some of the streamers in terms of like… The real raw mental impact, so I’m gonna set the stage for you. [...] Imagine that you were given a friend to play Minecraft with — like your best friend — BUT if this person dies, if they die in the game, you never get to talk to them again. Can you imagine what that’s like?

Bad: If you did not live through the QSMP, if you did not live through that, it almost sounds like, crazy. But I don’t think people realize how much of a joyous experience the Eggs were. They were SO awesome! They were literally so awesome to just hang out with and spend time with.

Bad: I’m not saying I regret it. To this day, I loved the experience. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Even knowing how everything went, I would still do it all over again. [...] I would still do it all over again, because — even knowing like, all the trauma and suffering and stuff like that — because it was just… It was just that fun, it was just that fun.

Earlier today during his stream, Bad shared his experience and thoughts about the Eggs and the significant emotional (and traumatic) impact they had on him and his fellow QSMP members.

This clip a very edited-down version since his commentary was ~13 minutes long, so I highly recommend checking out Bad's VOD if you have the time. (Timestamp: 47:36 - 1:00:14)

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

———

Bad: To be fair Chat, I really think the QSMP... I don't think anyone really can relate to it, Chat. It's something that's so... I've told people this before, like– but it's hard to understand. Right? Like...

Where was I? Sorry Chat, I'm losing my train of thought. Look, let me explain Chat– here's the dealio, ok? Here's the dealio, and this is what I mean when I say like, it's important to keep this in mind, Chat. Ok? It's important to keep this in mind:

I don’t think people understand the effect that the QSMP had on like, some of the streamers, in terms of like… The real raw mental impact, so I’m gonna set the stage for you. This is the analogy I’ve given to every person who I’ve like, shared this with. Imagine you meet somebody– [He hears a strange noise] What the fudge was that? Did you hear that?

Anyway– Chip! The story I was just relaying to Chat, Chip, was this: I was sharing this story with them, I said–  I was giving them an analogy. 

Imagine Chat, for example, imagine that you were… playing Minecraft, with like– you were given a friend to play Minecraft with, Chat, like your best friend, and [unintelligible] were like, “Hey, you get to play Minecraft with this person, right? BUT if this person dies – they’re currently your best friend, Chip – but if they die in the game, you never get to talk to them again. Ever again.” Can you imagine what that’s like, Chip?

I don’t think a lot of people understand like, what that does, right? I’m not gonna say that like, it creates this situation, Chip, that like, messes with your head, but it– Chip – but it totally, totally does, Chip. It messes with your head! It literally puts you in a position where you’re second-guessing and thinking about everything, Chip! You’re thinking about EVERYTHING Chip! Ok? And that’s the problem, Chip– is you turn into a paranoid monster because of it, Chip! Like, you don’t understand Chip– I was- I was so afraid of every dirt block, I used to carry a shovel with me Chip, and I would specifically right-click dirt blocks that looked suspicious because mines, Chip– mines could not be shoveled! Like, I was crazy, Chip! But here’s the problem, Chip: that craziness is still there. I’m genuinely like–

I remember thinking Chip, that I would one day– I was like, “I’m going to move past–” here, let’s go up here, Chip. I remember thinking one day Chip, I was like, “I’m gonna move past the underground base, one of these days. You know, one of these days, I feel like I’ll be able to grow and achieve the desire to build a base that doesn’t have to be underground.” But I don’t think it’s possible now Chip, because I think… I just don’t know. I feel like the paranoia– there’s still like, residual leftover trauma from that situation, Chip.

But here’s the problem Chip: I don’t think I don’t think– I don’t think people understand it. Like, I just really don’t. But I also don’t blame them Chip, ‘cuz I don’t think it’s possible to fully understand it if you haven’t lived through it. Like, if you did not live through the QSMP… I’m talking about the QSMP, I don’t- I don’t know if that was obvious– if you did not live through that, it almost sounds like, crazy. But I don’t think people realize how much of a joyous experience like, the Eggs were. Right? I don’t think people realize it. Like, they were SO awesome! They were literally so awesome to just hang out with and spend time with, Chip. So, it’s just one of those things that–

[He’s interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder above them]

Did lightning just strike here? Is it thunderstorming out…? But anyway, Chip. That’s the food for thought.

But that’s the problem– Like, every time it rains in Minecraft, I have to like, look at the sky, and I get this weird, like, second--hand vibe because of the trauma. The trauma, Chip! The trauma is real! But that’s the point– I’m not saying I regret it. I, to this day Chip, I loved the experience. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Even knowing how everything went, I would still do it all over again. 

[He falls down] Dangit, don’t come over here Chip, ‘cuz I’m coming back up! Ok.

I would still do it all over again, because — even knowing like, all the trauma and suffering  and stuff like that — because it was just… It was just that fun, Chip, it was just that fun. I really wi– I don’t think it’s ever gonna be possible, Chip, to give people that same energy, like that same experience. You know what I mean, Chip? I don’t think it’s ever gonna be possible again. Like, EVER.

Because… because like, one: I will say on one level Chip, I will say on one level, like– it’s sort of emotionally like… It’s emotionally devastating, and I think to actually go through that– and this is where like, if I ever do end up going to a– see a therapist, if I ever do end up going to see a therapist at any point, I’ll talk it over with them and be like, “Hey, what do you think about this?” Because I genuinely think on one level, like– it’s created this fear of forming attachments because of like, how things can go. You know what I mean? Like, the fear of getting attached to something and then potentially losing it. Like, it’s- it’s a genuine thing. I think people forget about that.

Like, at the end of the day, everything was RP, right? On the server. You know what I mean? Like, everything was RP, Chip. BUT at the same point, even though it was RP Chip, it was still like– there the reality of you were still playing like, with another person, and you were still getting that experience, and it felt like you were genuinely attached to someone and you didn’t want anything bad to happen to them. It was GENUINELY stressful, Chip.

But at the same point, I don’t regret it, and I don’t think it was a bad experience. I’m– 

Sometimes in life Chip, you go through stuff, and maybe you have a certain amount of like, things that like, can happen, that you’re like, “You know what, maybe this wasn’t a good thing that this happened,” but at the same point, you still aren’t necessarily upset about it, because… it’s like growing as a person, right? Here’s the thing Chip; even bad situations, Chip, can lead to an overall good outcome. Like–

Even if you’re going through something bad Chip, just because a bad thing happens doesn’t mean that only bad things have to come from that. That’s one of the things I tell people all the time, Chip, is that if you go through a bad situation, you can learn from it, and you can use your experience to help others. And you can be that– you can be, at the worst-case scenario, you can be someone for other people who are going through that same experience to lean on when they go through that.I think there’s a certain amount of comfort that comes from that; from knowing no matter how bad your situation is, you’re not the only person who’s experienced it. You know what I mean?

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[peachesofteal]

tw 18+ dubcon, breeding kink, brief daddy kink, baby trapping-ish - aka the whole purpose of the mating bond

Azriel who slips you a fertility tonic so he can give you a baby.

It starts as a fantasy.

He spends too much time watching you help with Nyx. Plays his dutiful uncle part, but all he's really focused on is how the baby sits so perfectly in your arms, how he's supported so easily by your hips.

How would you look, with his child cradled against your chest? How would you look, round with his baby?

It's maddening. Filling his dreams with ideas about a family of his own, a family with you. You who he loves beyond belief, you who he would die for, over and over again. You, who has become the reason he smiles, the reason he stands in the sun, the reason he looks forward to the future with hope, instead of looking back at the past with anger. You've changed him.

The bond isn't enough anymore, he craves it all. Needs to plant himself inside your womb until you're carrying a piece of him, but it likes that. It wants it, as much as he does, glows in his chest when he imagines it, purrs at the idea with satisfaction.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His cock swells when he thinks about fucking you deep, spilling inside of you again and again until it takes, giving you a piece of himself. Drives him insane, thinking about breeding you, putting his baby inside of you. Turns him inside out.

The shadows don't help. They find the tonic in Dawn Court and pull the emerald green glass bottle from a shelf, depositing it in his office. Thick like syrup, blood red like a candy apple, but completely void of scent. Helpful.

"What do you think about having a baby?" He breathes into your neck one night, still arched overtop of you, lips dragging along your jaw. You giggle. He swears it's the sweetest sound.

"I don't know, kind of soon, don't you think?" A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead, and you twist your fingers in it. "I know Madja said there'd be nothing to worry about but still... we've only been mated a few years, right?" He nips at your skin, slides his nose along yours.

"Right."

What started as a fantasy evolves into a plan. Wicked, and wild, it's all consuming, a parasite in his blood slowly taking over his body until he's disease ridden, obsessed.

"More?" He's perched on a stool, knees spread to accommodate where you stand between his knees, looking up at him with a lazy smile. You've already finished your first glass, the glass, the one with the tonic, and he's pleased to see you drank every drop.

"One more, I think." He taps your chin, tucks his fingers beneath it and tilts your face towards his before pressing his mouth against yours in a long kiss. When you pull away, you have that look in your eye. "Want to go home early?"

Yes.

He's high. Wound up, crazed. You're laid out on the bed, lax on your side, reaching for him. "Come here," you whine, wiggling your fingers, and he grips them before rolling you onto your back and pinning that wrist above your head.

"I love you," he sucks a mark against your collarbone, traces and plucks your nipple, enjoying your pants, the restless jolt of your hips.

"Az," you huff, and he smiles into your skin.

"Impatient." He releases his hold, teases down your belly to where you're already wet for him, soaked, and slips through your folds to find your clit, swollen, and waiting. Wanting. "So wet," there’s nectar between your legs, and he’s thirsty for it. Not tonight. Your clit throbs under his touch, back arching, tits pressing into his chest, "you're dripping."

"Yeah, ah- please," you paw at his shoulders and he pushes you down, lays you flat before grabbing your knees and flexing them towards your chest, your thighs framing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

"Keep them there." He warns. Your fingers dig into your flesh, and he taps the head of his cock against your clit, enjoying the way your hole twitches. "Look at you," he's lost in it already, stroking himself, slowly fucking the tip in and out, muscles coiled, ready to strike. It's a drug. You're a drug. His elixir of life, his faerie wine. The high of battle, the satisfaction of success, of killing. He's drunk on you, every day.

"Azriel," you hiss. His girl never likes to be kept waiting. He grins-

and then slams home.

"Fuck!" you scream it, head thrown back, abandoning the hold on your legs to fist the sheets. He pulls your ankles tall, and leans forward. Your eyes are as big as the moon, mouth open wide, perfect. Ready. Ripe.

"I know, I know," he soothes you, kisses you, aware that the pressure of his body over yours only shoves his cock harder against your cervix, and you gasp, pussy fluttering, warm and wet, better than a dream. He finds your clit, his touch turning you languid, helping you adjust to each stroke, "does that feel good, love? Nice and deep?" He catches your lip between his teeth, and then rests his forehead against yours.

"More," You twist in his grip, trying to move, and he swats your ass.

"Be good for me." Be good, be good-

be good for daddy so he can give you a baby, be good so he can plug you up, make it take-

"Yes..." You moan and your pussy quivers, already trying to suck him deeper, trying to pull him in. Your body knows what it wants, the bond knows what it wants, even though your mind isn't there yet.

You writhe, shudder. You're going to come soon.

He slows down, drags his cock almost all the way out, enjoying the way you pout, brows furrowed, before sliding back in, again and again, long strokes that drive you crazy, still flicking your clit. "I love you so much, pretty girl, need to fill you up."

"Yeah, p-please." You're chasing your orgasm, tightening like a fucking vice, trying to strangle him, hold him in, and he closes his eyes, relishing it, wishing he could die in it.

"Come on my cock, sweetheart, let me feel you." Your breath hitches and he fucks you harder, slamming his hips against yours, shoving his cock so deep he wonders if it's in your belly, and your eyes roll back, legs locking into planks, orgasm rocketing through you so violently you cry out.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, ah-"

"There it is," there's no stopping now, fucking you through the gush, the clench, "That's it, come for me," he coos, innocent poison, "good girl, such a good girl." His own end is building, fire in his blood, raw power surging up through his wings as they snap wide, and your toes curl as you tremble, pussy still squeezing, pulsing around his cock. "Stay still for me, gonna give you my cum- fuck- fuck it nice and deep." You mewl, half delirious, and he steadies himself before plunging as far as he can, exploding, shattering, flooding you with it all, his hopes, his wickedness, his dreams. His vision goes white, a shock radiating up through his toes, entire body rigid, and locked in, your pussy drenched with him. The bond sings for the true fulfillment of its purpose, the creation of children. It all comes together, him, you, the stars, the darkness, to give him what he wants, what he craves-

his baby inside you.

He tucks his fingers into your pussy as you fall asleep, shushing you back under easily when you blink at him in a daze. "Again?"

"In a bit." He kisses your temple. "Close your eyes sweet girl, you'll need your strength."

[moonchildcovenxx]

Scissoring With Sevika

a/n: Guys i got possessed!! It’s the voices I swear! this is loosely based off of @justhereforsubsevika’s post so go check that out if u like mine :)!!

first time tribbing with sub/switch sevika??? you know what hell yeah!

Sevika prided herself in her poker face. It was an ability that came naturally, and the years of being Silco’s second in command had perfected this trait. It took a lot to break your stoic, brooding, girlfriend. That is until it didn’t.

Sevika had simply stopped moving above you. It was uncharacteristic of her to quiet so quickly. “Vika baby…” you trail off as you shift your hips to look at her. You always craved to feel her closer.

 Sevika’s warm muscular body against yours never failed to make you needy. She could hardly believe it herself when you suggested scissoring in place of her fucking you stupid with a strap. Sevika hated to admit when she was wrong, But it felt good. Better even. So good in fact that you both froze when a soft mewl fell from her parted lips.

“Shut up.” Sevika immediately rasped out as your intrigued yet teasing giggle filled your dimly lit bedroom.

“Didn’t know you could sound like that Sevika.” The atmosphere in the room has reached a drunken, hazy, stupor and your eyes darken as Sevika tucks her lower lip between her teeth, her thighs shuddering atop yours. “Don’t—Stop that.” Sevika attempts to chide, but she cuts herself off with a breathy gasp as your clits kiss oh so gently. It has her pretty grey eyes rolling back, it’s a small touch, but she can feel everything. “F-fuck.” Sevika pants, dropping onto her elbows to cage around you.

It’s taking all your energy to stay as quiet as possible to hear the absolutely devastating noises that are leaving your girl. 

Something in you blooms as you watch Sevika’s usually sharpened, stoic facade crumble. Her cheeks dust rosy as your eyes roam her figure not knowing what or where to settle on. Sevika’s already pussy drunk—completely stupefied. That much you can tell. The way her eyebrows furrow, arching upward is merely one sign. A permanent shiver racks her body at even your slightest change or quirk of your body. A beat passes where both of you are still, clearly waiting for someone to make a move. And then it clicks. What Sevika wants you to do. and all of a sudden you find your hand at her throat pulling her into a deep kiss. “Yeah like th-that ohgod.” 

Sevika leans closer finally letting your hands guide her hips where you want them. And where you want them is bucking down onto you. You need her clit against yours. You need to feel the way her cunt just drips as you coo praises up at her. “So pretty like this, huh?” Your words are slurred from the pleasure each time she grinds down onto your now sloppy pussy. Sevika shakes her head fervently trying to keep some semblance of dominance. Trying and failing to pretend she was unbothered by your vulgar words and even sultrier actions, but it wouldn’t work. As you leave biting marks on her collarbone, the resulting noise that you drag out of her is so throughly debauched you moan back her name in response.

“I’m going to stop if you don’t speak up.” You tsk up at her. Your words are nothing but lies. You need to cum just as much as Sevika does, but you’re in love with the indignant, pained expression that falls over her features, her restraint finally snapping when you threaten her. “No—ah-baby please it feels so—so good oh god oh my god!” Sevika all but wails into your chest, as you meanly hum in mock thought, you’re sure that the throbbing in your cunt gives you away. When was the last time you were this wet?

“Hmm. Should I let you cum Vika? you’ve been so….” you cut yourself off by squeezing her neck ever so slightly, and in result Sevika’s mouth drops open, this time staying there as you continue to toy with her. “so ‘bratty’…” You giggle, as Sevika shakes her head again. “I’m-fuck-‘m not a brat.” Sevika hitches out indignant. Her deep raspy lilt long gone, in its place a broken whimper. “Please I’m—Please I’ve been good I wanna-“ She cuts herself off as her eyes roll back for the nth time of the night. The pleasure coils painfully in your tummy, the tightly wound knot ever so close to snapping. 

“Then cum for me Sevika.” you manage breathily as your clit rubs against hers oh so addictively that your hips buck up to meet Sevika’s erratic thrusts. 

“Oh God-hahh—”

Sevika falls into you, head burying into your shoulder as she all but creams on your overly sensitive pussy. 

“Just like—ah- that I got you.” You purr comfortingly, managing to hook your leg around her thigh holding her still. The silence envelops the two of you comfortably as you breathe in an overwhelmed yet satisfied breath. The quiet continues and you think that Sevika has simply fallen asleep on top of you as you lean back into the ruffled up pillows. 

“I…wouldn’t mind doing that again.” Sevika raspy low lilt is amusedly back—like it had never left, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you nod eagerly cuddling closer in her arms.

[chobunz]

Hey :) I’m just now getting into enhypen, so tell me, what do you think they’re like in bed?

haiiii srry i took so long to complete this but nonetheless i hope you still like it !! i only did hyung line so i hope that’s okie </3 kinda went a little overboard and started yapping tew much in this one lol oopsies..

pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader | warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, oral (m + f. rec), fingering, praise/degradation, c.ckwarming, p in v, a bunch of other nasty stuff i don’t feel like typing out lmfao

heeseung

don’t even get me started with this man omfg.. like he’s a literal sex god…

whether it be from his fingers, his mouth, or his dick he’s gonna make sure that you cum first always

will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s nothing, not stopping until you’re a whining, convulsing mess under him, smirking with utmost pride from how good he’s made you feel

he lowkey strikes me as someone with a high sex drive so i feel like the minimum rounds you’d be going on the daily is AT LEAST 3 (though sometimes that still isn’t enough for him), he not giving that pussy a break i fear..

feel like he’d also be very into body worship, just completely and utterly devoted to pleasing every inch of you, taking his sweet time to savor all of you as if it’s his last time he’ll ever get to fuck you— your body is a work of art to him so he’ll treat it as such !

is obsessed with marking you, like there’s just something about leaving hickies in places where only you two can see privately <3

loves fucking you in missionary so he can see your pretty, fucked out face— but is also a huge fan of doggie ‘cause he likes to spank your ass from time to time hehe

the way you feel around his cock, clamping around him with every thrust, has him moaning so much that he has to bite down on your shoulder to control himself ;(

will run slow circles at your clit with his thumb, other hand holding himself up to look at the way your face changes with pleasure

gets so horny for you and the way you repeat everything he says back to him as if you’re nothing but a dumb fuckdoll for him to use.. >~<

when he’s chasing his own high, his moans just get louder and louder, harmonizing with yours until he’s painting your insides with strings of white, quickly pulling out to watch his cum dripping out of you, admiring the beautiful mess he’s made of you ♡︎

jay

he’s the type of partner that would be sooo sweet and attentive and patient with you, like it doesn’t matter to him at all if you’re experienced or not; if anything he’d prefer to teach you new things !! (corruption kink goes craaazy)

he seems like he’d be more into passionate lovemaking rather than just pure fucking, just always treating you like the princess you deserve to be treated <3

loves the build up that leads up before you two actually get into it, like the heavy breathing in between slow, passionate kisses, pulling you in closer to him as you’re slowly grinding on him and the pauses to catch each other’s breaths just makes his brain short circuit 😣

is always telling you how pretty you look like while taking his cock, he’ll never ever get tired of the view of you on your knees for him as you’re sucking him off or while he’s fucking you in all kinds of different positions

i feel like he’s more soft dom leaning but i could also see him being a little mean sometimes, he knows how much you like it when he degrades you and tells you how much of a slut you are (only for him tho ofc)

is defff the type who talks you through it ><

pays close attention to your facial expressions and brushes your hair out of your face while kissing your lips every now and then, just needs to fill you up completely while he kisses you so gently in contrast to the hard and deep strokes he’s giving you. one hand on the side of your face, soothing you sweetly with each touch and the other hand playing with your tits

the way your walls flutter around him makes him feel dizzy, especially how you’re moaning as he fucks you nice and slow, praising you for taking it all so well. his good girl :(

would also be a big fan of cockwarming

idk why but i can just imagine you two chilling like that— you getting used to the feel of him inside of you while making out for a while, jay bringing his thumb down to rub your clit in slow, lazy circles

when you pull back to look at where you both connect together, you moan and he grabs your chin softly for you to look at him, finding your furrowed brows and fucked out expression so stinking cute !!

jake

THE BIGGEST WHORE OMG

like he’s such a freak but only when it comes to you, he’ll literally do anything you asked him to

in the beginning stages he would probs be a little shy at first, he’d be so gentle and delicate with you, kissing you sweetly as he inches himself slowly into you..

it’s like this for the first few times you slept together, taking his sweet time until you’d be able to take him with ease, and then the flip would switch— he’ll get a little more rough with you, calling you a dirty girl for him and how much you’re enjoying it

also strikes me as someone with a high libido, like he’s horny twenty four sevennnn, he’ll wanna fuck you any and everywhere

he hates condoms, he would literally rather die than to use one. is always begging to hit it raw each and everytime you guys fuck, he pinky promises that he’ll pull out !! (which only works about 60% of the time ..)

always always always wants to eat you out, he just can’t help himself he’s addicted to the way you taste, its like a drug to him. he’ll just randomly ask you out of nowhere if you wanna sit on his face and you allow him to do whatever his horny brain likes, plus with a face that pretty how could you not wanna ride it ???

this leads me to thinking about pussydrunk jake who’s so immersed in eating you out and fixated on your own pleasure, he could do it out for hours with absolutely no complaints on his end. it turns him on so much knowing how good he’s making you feel, he almost cums in his pants just from this alone..

i will say this time and time again, jake is very into recording during sex, he likes to record himself eating you out or fucking you, making sure the camera is super close up to capture all the little details; he’s built up quite the collection in his camera roll so far

is always so vocal in the videos, maybe even more than you tbh. he’d be asking you over and over if you like that and how bad you want his cock, he literally never shuts up. he gets a bit more intense when the cameras rolling, loving that you’re into it just as much as he is; you’re his little pornstar <3

sunghoon

i may be biased as hell but honestly i think he’s the biggest freak out of them all, like he’s the type who treats you like royalty when in public but in private ?? yeah, that’s a completely different story..

he just really really likes to fuck. morning sex, middle of the night sex, shower sex, phone sex, you name it. he’s literally down for everythinggg

feel like he’d also be very into corruption, slowly turning you into a sex obsessed freak just like him !! (twinsies)

will not give you what you want unless you beg for it. he likes when you use your words and tell him exactly what you need, if you want it that desperately then you’re gonna have to work for it, and you most certainly will

finds it endearing how much you squirm around and get all whiny as he’s fingering you, humiliating you when you can’t take it ‘cause how will you be able to take him if you can’t even take this small thing ??

he’d pitifully look at you as you’re stuffed full of his fingers, squeezing your cheeks together hard when you pout because you’ll take what he’s giving you and be grateful for it. idk it’s just very sexy— the contrast between his attitude when he’s training you in comparison to the real thing >_<

is a sucker for those cute innocent doe eyes you give him as you’re taking him down your throat, the sounds you make while choking around his thick cock, makes him so incredibly hard. he wants to use your mouth like a toy— his toy, until you’re a crying mess and feeds you with his cum <33

fucks.you.soooo.dumb

he eases into you ever so slowly, already too far gone as he feels warm walls hugging his cock, it has him moaning and throwing his head back in relief, and once he’s fully settled in, he will not be holding back

lots and lots of dirty talk !! will say the filthiest things to you in your ear all while pounding you from behind, you can barely even comprehend all of what he’s saying to you because of your fucked out state, all you can do is moan and repeat his name over and over in response

also loves it when you ride him, the way you’re bouncing on his cock and giving him the view of a lifetime, he’s never felt so desperate to cum before, groaning loudly as he feels you clench and unclench around him, milking him of all his cum

the aftercare is always so lovely and soft with him. he’d be acting like he didn’t just fuck you into a whole other dimension lol

idk, all i know is that i need hoon so badly.. y’all it ain’t even funny anymore :\

[cherrygirlfriend]

pairing: reader x bsf!rafe

synopsis: reader gets depressed after sex, so rafe comforts her.

warnings: smut, angst and comfort, fluff MDNI! - wc: 700

author’s note: i wrote this last night when this site went down; it's a bit different and doesn't have much dialogue but i was feeling poetic. also, trying out yet another layout style ⟡ ݁₊ .

it always starts the same; the feeling in your stomach building up, the heat spreading through your veins, making your body feel like the sun is rising, slowly warming up every one of your limbs as your whimpers turn into quiet moans as you’re brought closer and closer to the edge, to bliss.

then, all of a sudden, rafe touches just the right spot at just the right pace, whispering just the perfect words into your ear before sucking your earlobe into his mouth as he continues thrusting into you, your nails digging into his back, and then the soft sunlight titillating across your body turns into a blazing fire.

the moment you come undone your back arches off the bed, into him like a moth to a flame, your sensitive, pebbled nipples pressing against his muscular chest as you let out raspy words that are supposed to be his name, but ultimately end up being incomprehensible mumbles, rafe letting out groans on top of you as you clenched around him, your tight walls basically calling for him to come.

you can feel the rush of dopamine released by your brain the moment your back hits the mattress, your entire body becoming tingly, and a small, pleased smile playing on your lips as you felt rafe pull out of you with a satisfied grunt before getting up and discarding the used condom into his trash can before coming back to bed with a satisfied grin on his lips, your head still slightly fuzzy from the pleasure he'd given you.

you stared up at the ceiling fan, watching as it spun around, feeling the cool air on your face, feeling it take care of the sheen of sweat that covered your skin, rafe pressing small kisses on your bare shoulder, causing shivers to run down your spine. you felt content.

but just like usual, you crashed.

you didn't know what caused it, but hot tears started stinging in your eyes once again, rafe pulling back to look down at you, his lips twitching into a slight frown as his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb moving to brush away a tear that was rolling down, disappearing into your hair.

"shhh, it's okay..." rafe mumbled against your skin, continuing to press more kisses on the soft skin on your shoulder. you knew it was irrational, that there was no reason for you to be crying, that there was no reason for there to be this hollow feeling in your chest, no reason for your head to be filled with doubts and melancholy; but your emotions didn't much care for logic, "i'm here."

rafe pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly against his warm body while his hand stroked your hair, pressing soft kisses on your hairline while tears continued escaping your eyes, your throat stinging with pain. "you're beautiful. you're alright." somehow, rafe had gotten used to you getting emotional after coming down from your orgasm, and he knew there was nothing he could do to get you out of that mindset, except just be there. and he always did that, he always grounded you. he was like your anchor. "you're amazing."

you held onto him as tightly as possible as he continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear, leaving gentle, loving kisses all over your face, wiping your tears away with just a touch of his lips.

and eventually, the hollowness inside of you slowly faded away and was replaced by him, and you looked up at rafe, into his ice-cold eyes that felt so warm whenever you gazed into them, and your lips finally curved up into a small smile, your heart steadying until your heartbeats were in sync.

"there's my girl." rafe says softly, quietly, as if he was being careful not to break the fragile serenity that had now taken over your features. and before he could pull your lips to meet his, you beat him to the punch, so full of him and his adoration, you felt like you'd die if you didn't return it right back to him.

and as your lips met, every thought, every tear, faded away.

[thanosscross]

HII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH, i hope your willing to write about pregnant reader x thanos yk, thanos didn't know she was pregnant before they break up and then they meet up again the games and he finds out player 222 and player 333 type stuff 😭

Of course! We love this!!

Good person - Choi Su- Bong x pregnant! reader

Summary: After leaving Thanos, you encounter him again in a serious death game, only this time the stakes are lot higher

Warnings: Not much, just your usual squid game gore

A/n: Sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and start adding some length to my stories again especially my Thanos stories so stay tuned for those longer stories, trust me they are coming, they're just takin a lil time

You had told yourself whenever you signed up, you'd be as careful as possible, and that it was all for your baby, after leaving their father and being disowned for choosing to be single mother, you were left with little to nothing, so of course you took the chance to get money.

As you woke up in the giant room you soon came to regret your decision, seeing your sperm donor just a few feet in front of you, focused on the screen reading off debts "Y/n L/n, 25 million won" The guard shouted, showing you getting smacked across the face, quickly holding an arm over your stomach afterwards. Almost like he knew, as soon as your name was called out, his head snapped to yours "Senorita! You're here!?" He shouted in shock "No Way!" He shouted as he walked closer, you attempted to curl your body up away from him, but due to the six month pregnancy belly, you could only bend your legs closer to you slightly.

"Please leave, Thanos" You grunted, trying your best to keep him at a distance, for all he knew you had taken a plan B after your last hook up and that was it. Instead he just kept approaching until he was standing in front of you "What're you doing here!?" He asked excited, you just shook your head "trying to get my family and I money after my sorry excuse of a boyfriend convinced me to buy stupid ass crypto?" You said like it was obvious, it wasn't like you were entirely lying, you just didn't specify what family.

Going into red light green light, you were cocky at first, knowing you could do this easy, until the shooting started, players falling left and right, while your baby dad just skipped and danced his way to you down the field "You never answered me, Senorita" He repeated, placing his hands on your hips, terrified of what he might do, especially after watching him shove other players to win "I-I'm pregnant" You blurted, you couldn't help it, between your fear of dying by Thanos or the game was too much, you just wanted to get out of this alive, you didn't think it'd be this serious, if you did, you never would've done this. "Haha" He laughed sarcastically before looking at your face as the doll called out red light, he was in front of you now, and you were visibly shaking, Thanos using his body to try and shield you from the sensors "for real, flower?" He asked, his tone a lot more deep and raspy, you could tell he sobered up quick upon the realization you weren't joking. "I-I forgot the pill after hooked up a few months ago! a-and I left because I knew you couldn't be a responsible dad" You blurted, unable to contain your emotions as the hormones in your body were on overdrive.

Thanos was frozen, staring at you in shock before finally snapping out of it as the doll called green light, he grabbed your arm holding you behind him as he followed the others past the red line "Just stay behind me" He whispered, your words stung, how could you be so sure of how he'd be as a dad if you never gave him a chance? As you made your way back to the giant main room, you took notice to Thanos's hand on your back leading you to the bed "Sit, you don't put yourself through too much" He explained softly, helping you over to your bunks before eyeing Nam-Gyu "Give her your bed, man" he demanded, his friend stuttering before giving up and giving you his bed that was floor level, him taking your third bunk bed. "Thanos" You warned, not wanting him to make it a huge deal "What?! You're huge! You don't need to be climbing!" He shouted before catching his tone, apologizing quietly "Okay, well One, that was very very rude, two, I can do whatever I please, if I feel like I can't do something, I'll tell you" You stated poking him in the chest with your finger, he just smirked at you, biting his bottom lip slightly "Have I ever told you, it's hot whenever you yell at me" he asked, trying his best to charm you, but instead you just flicked his forehead in annoyance "Get away, freak" You replied, he just smiled at you, sitting at the foot of your bunk "So it's my baby?" He asked smiling pointing to your stomach "Well, if not I'd be concerned" You said raising your eyebrows at him "Can I..touch it?.." He asked nervously "it's not an it, it's your daughter" you glared, before grabbing his hand slipping it under your jacket, pressing his finger down in just the right spot to get the small baby inside of you to move around "Woah..weird" He said grimacing as he pulled away in disgust "Really!?" You gasped in shock laughing loudly, somehow forgetting you were in a death game for a moment "Yea! You have a whole human inside of you! That's weird!" He laughed, resting his hand on yours "You put it there, Su-bong!" You argued, you swore sometimes you got with a completely dumbass.

"Y/n..If you'll let me...I wanna be there..I don't want to be like my dad" He frowned, squeezing your hand gently "Please?" He begged "I know I fucked up bad, but, I want to try again, please" He continued, you glared at him for a moment before sighing "How can I trust you? And you'll have to get clean, for real clean, not how you're usually clean" You added on, you just watched as he nodded his head, no faces or complaints "You're actually serious aren't you?..." you asked sweetly "I want to be a good person for you, y/n, please" He whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles "I guess..but you only get one chance" You offered, he just nodded before flopping himself next to you "Thank you!" He cheered pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he chanted his thank you's, not realizing the next 18-19 years were going to be hell for the both of you.

The rest of the games, Thanos was always on you, making sure you didn't over do yourself or risk hurting yourself or your baby, charming you right back into his arms.

--

Taglist!!

@acehasmyheart

@corrdelia

@ag022123

[rumeras]

I need domestic Sylus like I need air to breathe.

Oh, you’d done it now. You’d worked on his last nerve and it had finally snapped.

You dodge his outstretched hand with a shriek of laughter, ducking behind the couch as you race from the living room and down the hall.

Sylus is hot on your tail, the thumping of his bare feet against the floor after your own has your adrenaline sky rocketing. The thrill of being chased by your usually patient lover has your heart thrumming.

You just had to tease him, didn’t you? Just had to rile him up enough that when you squished his cheeks together with your hand. When you leaned into his space to ghost your lips over his…you saw his restraint snap.

And he flung forward.

“No,” You shriek as he catches you around the waist, laughing as his right forearm flexes against you. He’s reeling you back into his arms when you cry, “Let go!”

His free hand descended on your side, fingers digging into your hips as he tickled you. You gasp out another shriek, wiggling in his grasp. He struggles to keep both of you standing as you kick out your legs.

With a grunt the two of you fall to the floor, his hold on your waist tightens as he takes the fall to his knees and lowers you to the ground safely. But, he doesn’t relent on the assault. You roll onto your back to look up at him through tears, you’re laughing so hard he’s got you crying.

“Mercy! Please, have mercy!” You cry out, stomach hurting from laughing.

“Oh? You want mercy?” He counters, powerful thighs caging your hips as he moves to tickle just under your arms. “You wound me, kitten. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

You wriggle beneath him, hands batting at his strong fingers, fighting against his onslaught. “No! I was teasing you!”

“I’m a patient man,” He drawls out, finally stilling his torture. “But I can only take so much from my beloved before I snap.”

You bite your lip to hold back the giggle that blooms in your chest at his words, hands resting against his thighs. You suck in a deep breath, and watch him.

He looks at you with such love. With such emotion that you see the way the corner of his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you. Those beautiful eyes that are only soft for you, that only truly see you.

He leans down, watching as your body stills under him, how you tilt your head up just a bit. His breath fans over your cheeks, your eyes fluttering closed…

Then you feel a wet open mouthed kiss being placed on your cheek.

And the shrieking begins anew.

[girlygguk]

EASY ⋆ CHAPTER ONE

summary when you’re young and swept up in the whirlwind of idol life, where every little move is scrutinized and relationships are hidden behind layers of secrecy, the pressure of the world watching makes everything so much more complicated. it's a lot. of course it is. yet, to jeon jungkook... loving you is still the easiest thing in the world.

⋆ please read the prologue first ⋆

pairing bts idol jk x female idol reader

genre idolverse, bff2l, fluff, angst

word count 13.1k

content read prologue for full fic warnings, chapter set in 2016, simp jk, down bad jk, heavy pining, touchy no-boundary bffs, gukkie's bday, two award shows, nct jaehyun appearance, eomma jang appearance, a bit of cursing, misunderstandings, jealousy, oc is confused, cringe fic, final proofread done on sleepy brain

author's note hello my patient little lovelies 💟 this chapter originally hit 20k 😭 but since it's a series, i decided to split it up to keep u guys excited for what's to come instead of giving it all away in one go :P had to cut a couple insaneeely cringy scenes 😒 so i’m v sorry if a few of the transitions are a bit choppy.. 💔 pls lemme know what u think tho!! love you lots<3

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CHAPTER ONE: Nineteen

"Close your eyes." 

Jungkook flinched at the sound of your voice, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the couch cushion with a soft thud. 

His gaze had been focused on nothing, just scrolling aimlessly through Instagram while waiting for you to return. After the second movie of your marathon ended, you had suddenly disappeared into your room, leaving behind only a vague promise to 'be back in a sec!' 

Obviously, he had tried to follow, but you stopped him in his tracks and forced him to sit back down on the couch. Even made him promise not to move. 

So now, Jungkook barely registered your words, his mind too focused on the fact that you were finally back. Instinctively, he began to turn around. But before he could even glance in your direction, you gently placed a hand on his head, halting him in place. 

"Uh-uh," you laughed, your voice light, the sound brushing past his ear like a whisper. It tickled. "Close your eyes, ttoki." 

The closeness of your voice sent a tingle, or seven, down his spine. Without a second thought, his eyes fluttered shut. Whether it was from the command itself, or the undeniable effect you had on him, he wasn't sure. 

You stood on your toes, leaning in to make sure his eyes were firmly closed, your face hovering close enough that he could smell the popcorn on your breath. He shivered.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you quietly moved around to the front of the couch and plopped down beside him, the cushion dipping under your weight. 

"Hold out your hands," you instructed softly, biting your lip to stifle your excitement. 

Without hesitation, Jungkook complied, turning his palms up in front of him. He expected something small—a snack, maybe, or one of the random trinkets you were always carrying around. But when you laid something soft and surprisingly heavy in his hands, his fingers instinctively closed around it, feeling the familiar texture of fabric. 

“It just arrived yesterday,” you explained. “And we’ve been together since, so I didn’t get the chance to wrap it properly…” 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion, even with his eyes still firmly shut. "But… you already gave me my gift?" he said, his head tilting slightly toward you. 

“Ttoki,” you chuckled, reaching over to brush your hand against his forehead, smoothing the crease that had formed. “I made you pancakes for breakfast. That’s not a real gift.” 

“They were amazing, though…” he mumbled, leaning into your touch, his face melting into that squishy pout that always melted your heart. 

“I’m glad you liked them,” you replied with a laugh, giving his cheek a light pinch before settling back against the couch. “Okay. Open your eyes.” 

Slowly, Jungkook blinked his eyes open, clearing the blur from his vision as he glanced down at the item in his hands. The air in his lungs froze. 

It was an Off-White skate tee. Thee Off-White skate tee. 

The same one that had been discontinued months ago. The one he’d casually mentioned to you, lamenting how he hadn’t bought it when he had the chance. He had even confessed to you once—when you’d slyly prodded him for more details about the shirt—that he’d hesitated back when it was available. At the time, he and his brothers were barely scraping by, and he’d been too cautious to spend what little money he had on something like that. Now, he could buy it a hundred times over, but it was too late. The brand no longer made that style.

Yet, here it was. In his hands. 

Jungkook stared at the shirt like he’d never seen a piece of clothing before. His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the fabric, running his fingers over the soft material. "How… how did you get this?" he asked, his voice barely audible, eyes still glued to the shirt. 

You smiled, pleased with his reaction. “I found it on HandMeDown,” you explained, referring to the app where people in Seoul sold their secondhand clothes. “And don’t worry, I already washed it. It’s ready to wear.” 

Jungkook instinctively brought the shirt to his nose, the familiar scent of your fabric conditioner filling his senses. He swallowed back a sigh. “So that’s why you didn’t want me doing your laundry yesterday…” he hummed in realization, now laying the shirt across his lap and staring at it in awe. 

“Well, that, and Jiyoung-unnie was offended that you only do mine and not hers,” you giggled. 

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement as if to say, and what about it? 

He looked at you then, the gratitude and affection in his eyes overwhelming. “Jjogi…” he said, his voice thick. “Thank you. I love it so much.” 

Without another word, Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver, but you smiled, wrapping your arms around him in return. 

“That’s okay, ttoki. I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, your hands moving in gentle circles on his back, your nails lightly scratching the spots you knew he liked. “I’m just sorry this isn’t the big, fancy 19th birthday party that you deserve.” 

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his his dark eyes soft as they searched your face. "This is all I wanted," he said simply. "I asked for this…" 

You tilted your head, still holding his gaze as your fingers rest gently on his shoulders. "Yeah, I know you wanted Iron Man and time to just relax," you replied with a small smile. “But I still feel bad that everyone else couldn’t come because of those stupid reshoots… They should be back soon, though.” 

"Ah," Jungkook mumbled, his teeth catching his lower lip as he nibbled on it—a habit of his when he was lost in thought. 

Reshoots. Right. 

That was the excuse Namjoon had come up with, conveniently keeping the others away for the night. In reality, Jungkook had asked Namjoon to give him the day alone with you—just you. And Namjoon, being the good hyung he was, made it happen. 

Even though Jungkook knew you would’ve been perfectly fine with just you and him for his birthday, he also knew you. Knew that you would've felt guilty for not having the whole group there. Could practically hear your soft voice reminding him how excited the others were to celebrate his birthday, how they would've loved to watch Iron Man with him. 

But he didn’t want to watch Iron Man with them. He wanted to watch Iron Man with you. 

"That's okay," Jungkook said softly. "I’m more than happy with tonight. It’s—it’s everything I wanted." 

"Good." You let out a sigh of relief, your hands covering his as they rested on his lap. "Happy birthday, ttoki. You deserve everything you want. I love you so much, you know that?" 

"I do. And I love you more." His words came so easily, so naturally, like they were meant to exist only between the two of you. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment before he turned to gently set the shirt aside. "Thank you so much, jjogi. God, you're just—" 

Jungkook cut himself short with a huff, as if whatever he was about to say would’ve been too much. Instead, he leaned forward, and gently guided your arms around his neck. In one motion, he maneuvered you down onto the couch beneath him, your soft laughter filling his ears as you sank into the cushions. 

He settled comfortably on top of you, his head finding its place in the crook of your neck. "Let’s sleep," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin. 

“But we still have the third movie to get through,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction as your hands wandered down to gently poke his side. 

Jungkook grunted, burrowing deeper into you, making it abundantly clear he wasn’t planning on moving. “Nap first,” he grumbled. 

You laughed, poking him again. “And you don’t want any of your birthday cake?” 

Jungkook shook his head lazily, a quiet no escaping his lips as he tightened his arms around you. 

You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. “Well, we should at least move to a bed. We’ll regret sleeping here in the morning.” 

Jungkook shook his head again, his voice barely a whisper now. “Just a nap…” 

After a pause, he tilted his head back slightly, his dark eyes peeking up at you as he added, almost innocently, “By the way, how much was it?” 

You froze for a second, pretending not to hear the question as your fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through his hair. “Hm? How much was what?” 

He let out a soft hum, clearly enjoying your touch, before murmuring sleepily, “The shirt.” 

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of a response. “Mmm, I don’t remember,” you finally whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek in hopes of distracting him. “Let’s sleep,” you added, guiding his head back down against your chest as you leaned into the throw pillow behind you. 

What were you supposed to say? 

That you’d saved every bit of your allowance for three months just to afford it? That you’d scoured every corner of the internet before stumbling upon it on some random resale app, only to have MarkLee99 refuse to let you haggle the price down, no matter how hard you tried? 

It wasn’t that you were embarrassed about your finances in front of Jungkook. God, no. You both had been through way too much together for that. Spent too many nights, broke and broken, licking the seasoning off the snack bags your mom sent from Daegu during trainee days when meals were sparse. 

It wasn’t shame— it was that you just didn’t want him to worry. He did that a lot when it came to you. 

Jungkook hummed softly, his muscles growing heavier. He knew. He knew that shirt cost you a lot, more than you’d ever admit. You spent your money on him—just him. And god, you were so fucking perfect for that. 

Of course he wasn’t going to let it go. He'd pester you tomorrow—or maybe the day after, as a thank you for such an amazing night. But for now? He wasn’t moving. Not from this spot. Not from you. 

Jungkook’s eyes finally fluttered shut, his body sinking deeper into yours as sleep began to pull him under. He made sure to keep most of his weight pressed into the couch, though his body stayed comfortably intertwined with yours. 

And then he waited. 

Patiently listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet rise and fall of your chest beneath him, until it finally evened out—reassuring him that you were fast asleep. 

Only then did he allow himself to slip into unconsciousness, his mind full of you, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Best birthday ever.

Mnet Asian Music Awards 

“And now, the nominees for Song of the Year…” 

Jungkook’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Not out of boredom or disinterest—no, nothing like that. But because this way, he could catch glimpses of you in his peripheral vision without needing to strain his eyes around Jimin’s frame or tilt his head in an obvious way. Just the edge of your figure, the way your jewelery shimmered in the lights, the way your hands fidgeted in your lap. He wanted to see your reaction properly, but he had to be careful.

“BTS - Blood Sweat and Tears,” “Exo - Monster,” “GFriend - Rough,” “LUMI - Supernatural,” “Twice - Cheer Up.” 

GFriend’s performance had been incredible, and he knew you would've been quietly geeking out over it. You loved the group, especially their song “Rough,” your favorite at the moment. He could practically hear you humming the chorus in his head, like you’d done all month.

It made him smile, remembering how you made him sing it with you that one time. Late night in the practice room, giggling uncontrollably when he forced himself to sing off-key.

Jungkook wished he could’ve seen your face light up when they sang it, but he’s already in hot water for not keeping his expressions in check when you both attend award shows. His managers, his hyungs, and even your leader, Nari, had all warned him.

Nari-noona was kindhearted, much like his own leader. But she was fiercely protective of her members, just as Namjoon-hyung was of his. 

A few weeks ago, at an event where both your groups attended, a clip had gone viral of Jungkook staring at you for a little too long to be considered just a glance. 

It wasn't just a glance, of course—he had been completely distracted by how good you looked in that gown that night, stealing far more looks than the internet even caught wind of. But the world didn’t need to know that. 

Still, the six-second clip had been enough to send netizens into a fucking frenzy. 

He wasn’t surprised when the criticism came for him; that always happened. But when you took the brunt of the backlash... yeah, that fucking gutted him. 

Nari knew you wouldn’t say anything to Jungkook about it—and you didn't—because you didn’t blame him. You never blamed him for the gossip or the way the internet twisted things. It was just a look. 

But the industry you were both in could be as toxic as it was rewarding, and Nari had gently reminded him, in that older sister way, that when you’re constantly in the limelight like he was now, things are different. Even when he thought nobody was paying attention, it only took one person to notice. 

She had also pointed out that, as endearing as it was, Jungkook was utterly hopeless at hiding his feelings. Everything was always written right across his face, whether he meant it to be or not. 

Though BTS was technically the senior group to LUMI, Nari had been in the industry nearly as long as Namjoon, and both were wise beyond their years. Jungkook would never disregard advice from either of them. 

He had promised Nari that he understood, that he was sorry, that he would do better to protect you. 

Nari had just smiled. She already knew he would. 

"And the 2016 Mnet Asian Music Award winner for Song of the Year… LUMI, Supernatural! Congratulations!" 

And just like that, all prior thoughts of keeping his cool completely and utterly evaporated. 

Before he could stop himself, Jungkook shot to his feet, his fists punching the air as if he just won the fucking daesang. “YES. Wooooooo!!!" 

The stadium exploded in applause, but Jungkook barely registered the noise. His heart pounded in his chest, the euphoria of your win surging through him like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Especially when the first thing you did after Cha Seungwon announced your group’s win was look at him. Not just in his direction, but directly at him. 

Your eyes were wide with disbelief, face glowing with pure joy. Jungkook’s breath hitched at the sight. God, you were so beautiful when you were happy. 

“Thank fuck,” he muttered under his breath, clapping so hard his palms stung. 

No one deserved this award more than your group. "Supernatural" was massive. It dominated the charts in Korea and made waves internationally too. It was everywhere for months—it still was. 

He remembered when it first dropped. You were out of town for promo, and when the song played over the speakers at a little local cafe where he was picking up drinks for his members, he couldn’t resist Facetiming you. 

You’d been over the moon, screaming into the phone, and made him stay on the line with you until the song ended. He found an empty booth in the back, pulled up his hoodie, and and sat there on the phone with you until all the coffees he’d ordered had gone cold. 

Now, as the cameras flashed and chaos ensued around him, Jungkook's focus was locked on you—watching as your members pulled you into a group hug, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. When you broke away to head for the stage and he remembered you’d have to pass by him… he stood a little straighter. 

His hyungs were cheering too—maybe not as embarrassingly as he was—but they knew, just like he did, what this moment meant. You had all trained together, struggled together, grew up in the industry together. Getting this sort of recognition after so much hard work was a feeling that they understood all too well. 

As your group bowed to the senior idols seated to his left, you approached the stage steps directly in front of him. Nari was leading the way, but Jungkook noticed the subtle nudge you gave her. It was so slight, anyone else would’ve missed it. But not him. 

Nari glanced back at you, confusion flickering across her face for a split second before realization dawned. A knowing smile tugged at her lips as she shifted gracefully, taking a few steps to the side, drawing the camera’s attention with her. 

Then the crowd exploded. The loudest cheers of the night echoed around the arena as Nari led the four of you in a deep bow toward BTS. 

Jungkook’s grin widened, his heart pounding all over again as you lifted your head, the most adorable fucking smile lighting up your face. He and his members grinned, returning the bow instantly. Taehyung and Jimin added their own touch, wiggling their fingers at your group in a goofy, showing-off way, snickering as the cameras ate it all up.

As Jungkook’s hands stilled, he clasped them together in front of him, fighting off every urge in his body to pull you into his arms and congratulate you properly. He wanted to—god, he wanted to—but he couldn’t. Not now, with every lens in the room trained on you both. Instead, he stayed rooted, lips parting as if to say something, but closing quickly. 

You didn’t need words. You never did. 

With a little tilt of your head, a soft crinkle of your eyes, you said it all. You knew exactly what he was feeling, and the sweet smile you shot him left his pulse racing. He felt his throat tighten as he swallowed a little too hard, catching the way you bit your lip as you fought off a grin before taking Eunji’s extended hand and heading up onto the platform. 

The cameramen scrambled to adjust their angles as your group walked toward center stage. It had been less than two minutes since your name was announced, but for Jungkook, it felt like twenty. 

It was ridiculous, really. That stupid, adorable fucking smile of yours, always making him lose his train of thought. And now, apparently, his sense of time too.

With a huff, he dropped back into his seat next to Jimin, already bracing himself for the grilling he'd get once the show aired. 

Oh well, what were they going to do? Fire him? 

"Wah," Nari's breathless voice echoed through the speakers. The crowd roared in response, bringing a wide grin to her face. Jungkook smiled, watching as you and your members marvelled at the trophy in your leader's hands before turning back to the audience. 

"I don’t know what to say, and I always know what to say..." Nari laughed, sending another wave of cheers through the stadium. "I know this might sound like false humility, but we really didn’t think we would win… I mean..." 

The crowd erupted in laughter as Nari gestured playfully toward the right, where your sunbae group, Exo, sat. The cameras zoomed in on the group’s modest smiles and head shakes and Jungkook shared a knowing glance with his own members. 

You and the rest of LUMI giggled softly, nudging Nari as she bowed sheepishly toward the senior group before regaining her composure. 

“Okay, okay… ah, here we go,” Nari chuckled, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself in front of the microphone. "Thank you, Bang PD-nim and BigHit Entertainment for these unbelievable opportunities… Thank you to our amazing friends and families for always loving and supporting us... And thank you to our incredible seniors for showing us what it means to never give up." 

The crowd’s response was deafening. Like, ear-piercingly loud. Jungkook soon realized the cause of the explosion when he glanced up at the large LCD screens overhead and saw Taehyung and Jimin displayed in all their glory, posing dramatically for the shot.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckling along with Hobi, yet extremely grateful that the camera didn’t pan to him. He was self-aware enough to know that his eyes were probably shaped like fucking hearts right now.

"And most importantly… thank you so much, Nova," Nari continued, fingers tracing the edges of the trophy. The applause swelled again, somehow even louder than before. "This means more to us than we could ever put into words. We work hard, but Nova, you worked even harder to get us here. This is as much yours as it is ours. Thank you. We love you." 

As Nari stepped back with a bow, Jungkook swore he saw her eyes glistening, and his smile softened. He’d never seen Nari-noona cry before. 

She waved a calm hand out to you and your members members, signaling for one of you to speak next. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, clapping along with the rest of the room, and beside him, Namjoon let out a low, impressed sigh. “Incredible,” he murmured. 

Jungkook and Jimin exchanged looks, snickering but nodding in agreement. Jungkook’s gaze found its way back to you and your members, watching as you all looked at each other, shaking your heads and silently insisting, no, you go. 

He almost chuckled aloud, surprised that Jiyoung wasn’t clamoring for the microphone—he couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t chatting his ear off. 

Nari rolled her eyes playfully before gently nudging you toward the microphone.

Jungkook knew there was a camera pointed at him, and he hoped it didn’t catch the way he jerked slightly in his seat, maybe a little too eager for you to hear you speak. 

“Ah,” you chuckled nervously as the stadium exploded into cheers the moment you took the mic. A blush crept up your cheeks, and Jungkook instinctively leaned forward, lifting a hand to hide the smile tugging at his lips. 

“I don’t- uh…” you began, your voice soft as you glanced at your members, who nodded at you encouragingly. "Sorry," you murmed into the microphone with a light laugh, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts. "Mmm, well, when we were writing this song, we were so excited to see what people would think, and, well… it seems you liked it?” 

Jungkook bit back a groan. So fucking cute. 

He already knew you weren't a fan of public speaking, just as he wasn't. But still, to see the most secure girl he knew, the most powerful performer he’d ever seen, turn all blushy and shy when she had to give a speech? Fucking hell. 

“Nari-unnie already said it all, but really, we’re so happy and sooo thankful. We will continue to work hard, always… Ahh, we love you, Nova. Thank you so much. Thank you.” 

Your words drew another round of applause as you stumbled back from the mic, your members giggling softly as they patted you all over in encouragement. Jungkook nodded giddily, his grin widening when you glanced in his direction, flashing him one last pretty smile before bowing to the crowd with your sisters.

As soon as your group stepped backstage, the lights, cheers, and noise seemed to fade, replaced by the hum of the crew and the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air. The adrenaline pulsing through your veins was slowly ebbing away, leaving you standing in the midst of it all, clutching the trophy in your hands. 

You’d been the only one of your members who hadn’t cried during the acceptance speech. But now, as you stared down at the shiny trophy, the weight of the moment crashed over you in a heavy wave. The reality of it all—the sleepless nights, the endless rehearsals, the doubts and fears you all shared. It hit you square in the chest. 

You just won a fucking daesang. 

Before you could stop yourself, your shoulders shook and a choky sob escaped from deep in your chest. 

Nari was the first to rush to your side, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame, her own eyes red and watery. “Oh, honey…” she whispered, pulling you close. Within seconds, Eunji and Jiyoung were there too, the three of them surrounding you in a tight, protective circle, holding you tightly as your tears fell unchecked.

Jiyoung buried her face in your shoulder, crying softly. Eunji wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, biting her lip to keep her tears in check, but it was no use. Nari held you even tighter, her lips pressed to your hair as she rocked you gently. 

"Thank you so much, Nari-unnie," you managed to whisper through your sobs. Nari shook her head, a teary smile on her face as she gently brushed some stray hair away from your eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you. Any of you,” you sniffled, glancing between your unnies.

Your members cooed softly, pulling you closer as you giggled through the tears. When they finally pulled back, your face was still damp, but there was a faint smile tugging at your lips.  “I can’t believe we did it..” you croaked, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes flickered down to the award in your hands.

“It still feels unreal,” Eunji agreed with a laugh, her own tears mingling with her smile. “Like, I’m waiting to wake up… I’ve had this dream so many times.” 

Jiyoung snickered, wiping her eyes. “Right? If I turn around and see Lee Junho walking toward me shirtless…” 

The room erupted into giggles, the tension breaking as your members shoved Jiyoung for her comment. You handed the trophy over to your manager for safekeeping, still laughing as you wiped at your cheeks.

With a gentle nudge from the staff, you were ushered off to tidy up your makeup. It gave you time to calm down, maybe catch your breath, but the excitement still bubbled under your skin. Especially with SHINee’s performance coming up in just a few more categories!!! 

When you stepped back from the mirror you thanked your makeup artist, Julie, with a hug and waited for Nari and Eunji to finish up. But as you waited, there came a gentle nudge to your side, and you glanced over to find Jiyoung stifling a giggle. 

“Look over there,” she whispered, nodding toward the back of the room. 

Your curious eyes followed her gaze, scanning the backstage area until you spotted him—a tall, undeniably handsome guy standing a little away from his group. He seemed calm, focused on a conversation with his manager, but the moment your eyes locked, his expression faltered. His face flushed pink before he immediately looked away all… embarrassed?

You frowned, turning back to Jiyoung. “Stop it,” you whispered, giving her a little swat on the arm. 

But you couldn’t help yourself. As your group began moving toward the exit, you stole another glance over your shoulder, and there he was again. This time, his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you, eyes wide and frozen. Not in a creepy way, though. More like a deer caught in headlights. 

You hesitated slightly, your group moving ahead without noticing that you had stopped. With a small smile, you turned back toward him and offered a little bow. His reaction was immediate—his eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and he returned the bow so fast you almost worried he’d pull a muscle. 

Nari soon noticed you lingering behind and a little frown pulled at her brow, but before she could make a move to fetch you, Jiyoung grabbed her arm. “Leave her,” she whispered with a smirk, tugging Nari back toward the exit. 

Meanwhile, you made your way over to the guy. He was definitely an idol, though his name escaped you at the moment. “Are you okay?” you asked gently. “Do you need something?” 

His face flushed as he stammered, "I-I’m sorry, no. I just— uh, I love your music. Your group is incredible. I’ve been listening to 'Supernatural' nonstop! Seriously! I was wondering if… if you’re performing tonight?” 

“Oh, wow, thank you so much.” Your smile brightened at his sincerity, still not used to receiving compliments like that. “Yeah, we’ll be performing at around nine.” 

His shoulders relaxed, and a shy smile crept across his face. “That’s great. I’ll definitely be watching… I’m Jeong Jaehyun, from NCT? We just, um, just debuted recently.” 

"Ahh, that’s why you look so familiar!" you exclaimed, recognition lighting up your face. “I saw your debut stage! It was amazing!” 

Jaehyun’s ears turned a deep shade of red as he ducked his head. “Ah, thank you so much, wow, that... that means a lot.” 

The conversation grew easier after that, his nervousness slowly melting away. His humor naturally peeked through, and you even found out he was a fellow ’97-liner. He was genuine and sweet. Jeonggukkie would love him, you thought. 

As Jaehyun fidgeted, his hand subtly patting his pocket as though reaching for something, the sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention. 

When you glanced over your shoulder, you smiled as you spotted Jungkook and Taehyung making their way to you guys. Jaehyun’s reaction was almost comical with the way his eyes widened again as he immediately bowed deeply, all stiff and formal. You bit back a laugh as you remembered what it was like to meet your idols for the first time. At least he didn't cry.

Jungkook and Taehyung greeted Jaehyun , their kind demeanour helping him ease up, though he still stumbled over his words every now and then. Especially when Jaehyun managed to make Taehyung laugh. The look of pure joy on his face was so adorable. 

After a few minutes of chatting, you glanced toward the stage. “We should get back out there…” you said, nodding toward the performance area. “The next category is coming up soon.” 

Jungkook nodded, stepping a little closer to you while Taehyung followed suit. “Yeah, we’ll catch up later,” Jungkook added with a friendly nod toward Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun bowed like his life depended on it and smiled handsomely. “Cool! Yeah, absolutely! Have a good performance! Good luck!” 

With a wave and a smile, you fell into step beside Jungkook and Taehyung, the three of you heading back toward the guest section. As you walked, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching Jaehyun’s lingering gaze. You couldn’t help but laugh softly before turning away.

“You know,” Taehyung started, his voice teasing, “you could’ve just said SHINee is coming up. You didn’t have to say ‘the next category.’” 

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Shut up,” you mumbled with a little shove. He wasn't wrong.

Meanwhile, Mark, who had been watching the entire exchange from a distance, sidled up to Jaehyun with a teasing smirk. “So, how’d it go?” he asked, nudging his bandmate’s shoulder. “Did you tell her how you’ve been in love with her since you were just a shy little trainee—” 

“Shut up,” Jaehyun muttered, his face burning as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, grumbling. “She had to go.” 

Mark laughed, watching as Jaehyun’s gaze drifted back toward you for one last fleeting glance before he sighed in quiet defeat.

As you, Jungkook, and Taehyung continued toward the guest section, Taehyung suddenly slowed. “Hold up,” he muttered, glancing between you and Jungkook. “Needa go to the bathroom real quick.” 

You smiled, nodding toward the nearby restroom. “Okay. We’ll wait here.” 

With a quick nod, Taehyung slipped through the door, leaving you and Jungkook standing alone in the quiet hallway. You leaned back against the wall, the hum of applause from the show pounding through the walls. 

Jungkook shifted beside you before leaning in. “So proud of you, jjogi.” 

You looked up at him, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Thank you, ttoki,” you replied sweetly, instinctively glancing around the empty hall. “I’m so proud of you too, Mr. Album of the Year.”

His big eyes met yours, a cute grin tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Mrs. Song of the Year,” he shot back, his bunny teeth peeking out as he tilted his head. 

Your cheeks heated up, your smile widening as you smoothed over your dress, hands twitching with the desire to pull him into a hug. But you knew better.

With one more quick glance at your surroundings, you leaned in, lifting a hand to the side of your mouth as if whispering a secret. “Love you.” 

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled into a smile, his hands mimicking yours as he leaned closer. “I love you more…”

Before you could reply, the bathroom door swung open and Taehyung strolled out, slipping between you and Jungkook with a content grin. “Alright, let’s go.” 

As the three of you walked together, a question popped into your mind. “Hey, why were you guys backstage?” you asked, glancing curiously between the two. 

Taehyung shrugged, hands tucked in his pockets. “Jeonggukkie needed something.” 

Your brow raised as you leaned forward, looking past Taehyung at Jungkook. “Oh? Did you get what you needed?” 

He hummed, his gaze shifting toward you with a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he replied simply. 

MBC Gayo Daejejeon 

The current artists, Lovelyz, were wrapping up their performance, final notes fading as the audience erupted into applause. 

The sound echoed all the way down the hall where you and your members stood in a tight semi-circle. There was a buzz in the air, a thick mix of nerves and excitement. A water bottle made its rounds between the four of you, each taking quick sips. 

You were up next. 

Adjusting the mic taped to your cheek, you exhaled slowly, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was the kind of thrill that made you feel like you could do anything. You glanced at Jiyoung, who was bouncing on her feet, twisting her hands together. 

A teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Unnie—" 

Before you could finish, the stage director rushed over, his arms gesturing in wide urgent motions. "Let’s go, girls! You’re next!" 

As the four of you reached the stage doors, waiting as they slowly slid open, something clicked inside you. That version of yourself that existed onstage snapped into place like armour, any nerves you might have had completely melting away.

It was almost strange, really, how easily you slipped into this other self. Offstage, you were confident, sure. But onstage, you were something else. The rush was intoxicating, like a drug you craved more than anything. 

Your mom had always said you liked attention. 

The stadium lights dimmed, casting long, dramatic shadows along the floor as you and your sisters strode toward centre stage. For a second, everything slowed, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. 

Then, No More Dream exploded through the speakers, and the crowd roared even louder, the sheer strength of their cries vibrating the ground beneath your feet. You dropped to one knee, taking your position at the front of Nari, with Eunji and Jiyoung flanking her sides. 

Just as you were about to launch into the performance, something tugged at the edges of your awareness. A strange sensation, a tightness in your chest. Your brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Huh… You’d never gotten stage fright before.

Not during your first audition, when the judges’ eyes felt like they were burning holes straight through your soul. Not during the grueling trainee days, when one by one, the girls you’d grown close to disappeared, cut from the potential lineup. Not even when your group had teetered on the brink of disbandment, when everything you’d worked for since you were too young to fully understand the true scope of things, dangled by a thread.

The stage had always been your safe space. Nerves were never the enemy. They were fuel, pushing you to be better.

So why now, of all times, did you feel a prickle of sweat forming at the base of your hairline…

In the second row, you caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook, elbowing Taehyung in the ribs, his face scrunched in annoyance. He was trying to get Taehyung to stop leaning over him to chat with Jin. His lips moved quickly, whining in that way he always did when he was being ignored. 

“It’s starting,” Jungkook whined, placing a hand on Taehyung’s chest, trying to push him back into his seat. 

They were being so loud. If Jungkook missed even a single second of your performance because of his hyungs, he was going to fucking lose it. 

Taehyung finally grumbled something and settled into his seat. Jungkook’s eyes quickly snapped back to the stage, his eyes locking onto yours instantly. 

The second your gaze met, a smile tugged at your lips, easing the weird tension you’d felt moments before until it melted away, just like that. You didn’t even think about it—you were just grateful. 

“I wanna…”

When you’d first been asked to choose a song to cover for Gayo Daejejeon, your producer had mentioned offhandedly that BTS had picked one of your group’s songs for their performance. 

You’d been curious at first, but it wasn’t until later, during a game of Uno, that Jimin had let it slip. 

“It was Jeonggukkie’s idea,” he’d said, grinning at you while tossing down a +4 card with wicked delight. 

The memory bubbled up now as you transitioned into the next part of the choreo, your mind flicking back to the way Jungkook had pouted when you’d teased him about his suggestion during movie night in his room. 

“If you keep teasing me, I’ll ask them to change it,” he grumbled, pouting in that way only he could. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you relented, giggling. “We could... cover one of your songs too?” 

His pout vanished instantly, replaced by an excited grin that lit up his entire face. “Deal!” he said, practically bouncing on the bed. Then, he quickly added, "but you have to do my lines, though." 

You groaned dramatically, playfully pushing out your bottom lip in protest. “But I wanted to do Namjoonie-oppa’s part…” 

The memory of him yanking the blanket over his head like a sulking bunny still made you smile. He’d curled up into a ball on his bed, refusing to come out until you’d given in and cuddled him for the rest of the movie.

Dramatic didn’t even begin to cover it. 

And now, here you were, on stage, trying to bite back that same laugh as you rose from behind Nari as she finished RM's line. You brought the mic to your lips, your free hand running through your hair in the way Jungkook had taught you. 

"Arasseo… eomma jigeum dokseosil gandanikka?" 

"Yahhh!" Jungkook’s giddy cheer was muffled by his hand covering his mouth. 

He was trying, and failing, not to react too enthusiastically. His grin was wide behind his fingers, eyes glued to you as you moved across the stage. 

"She’s literally a female Jeonggukkie," Taehyung laughed, nudging the youngest with his elbow. 

The rest of BTS nodded in agreement, expressions a mixture of amusement and admiration as they watched you copy Jungkook’s mannerisms with scary accuracy. 

Jungkook’s mouth twitched, trying to hold back a bigger smile at Tae’s comment, but his eyes never left you. He watched intently as you slinked back to the center after Eunji’s verse. 

"Ah, she’s doing Kookie’s rap?" Jin leaned in, eyebrows raised in intrigue. 

"Mhm," Jimin confirmed with a nod, his fingers drumming against his knees. "She can rap well." 

Jungkook let out a soft, dreamy sigh, leaning back in his seat. “She can do everything well,” he mumbled, not even trying to hide the affection in his voice. 

His hyungs groaned in unison, the sound almost drowning out the cheers from the crowd. Rolling their eyes at the lovesick tone in his voice, they shook their heads and shoved playfully at the maknae. 

Jungkook just giggled with an unashamed shrug.

Jiyoung was the first to break the post-performance haze as you slipped through the backstage curtain. "God, that choreo is so fucked," she groaned, running a hand through her sweat drenched hair.

"I know," you laughed, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face as you glanced down at her legs. "How are your knees?"

Jiyoung gave your hair a ruffle as you worriedly rubbed her kneecaps through the fabric of her jeans. "They’re fine, honey. Like I was going to ruin my fit with a pair of ugly kneepads."

You snickered, rolling your eyes. "Priorities..." you teased, giving her legs one last pat before straightening up. "You guys thirsty? I can grab drinks."

But before you could move, you noticed your members exchanging sly, knowing glances.

"That’s okay, we’ll get our own drinks," Jiyoung said with a little smirk. Eunji giggled, elbowing her lightly as they began to walk away.

"Huh—" You didn’t quite get a chance to question them.

Nari flashed you a soft smile as she linked arms with the other two. "We’ll be at the monitors," she called over her shoulder, leaving you standing there—confused and suddenly alone.

That confusion quickly melted away when you turned around, finding yourself face to face with your favorite pair of big, boba eyes.

“Oh, hi, ttoki,” you smiled.

"Hi," he echoed, flashing you a pretty grin as he held out a cold bottle of water toward you.

Before you could take the bottle from his grasp, Jungkook’s hand gently caught your outstretched one, pulling you in with one quick motion. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you stumbled into him, his arms wrapping around your waist like they belonged there and only there.

Jungkook sighed softly, his body relaxing as he pulled you closer, your arms naturally finding their way around his neck. The moment was so familiar, so easy, that you didn't even look around you to see if anybody could see you.

“You did so well,” he mumbled into your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

“Thank you,” you smiled, the tickle of his breath making your shoulder lift involuntarily.

You tried to balance the cold bottle now in your hand, careful not to press it against him. Jungkook noticed, his nose crinkling as he gave your sides one last gentle squeeze before relunctantly pulling away.

As he stepped back, he blinked a few times, trying to refocus. His gaze had wandered, caught on the curve of your smile, the way it always made his heart do that thing.

His eyes trailed over you, watching as you unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, your body naturally leaning toward him.

But then, you paused, frowning down at the bottle in your hand, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer.

“My water...” you pouted, turning the bottle over in your hands.

"Huh? What about it?” Jungkook’s hands shot out to inspect the bottle. He had just taken a sip earlier, and it was fine?

“There’s some missing…” you said, your pout deepening.

His face fell instantly. "Oh… yeah, I had a drink. Sorry. I’ll go get you a fresh one—"

But before he could finish, your soft giggle cut through his panic, and you unscrewed the cap, taking a big gulp. You shrugged playfully. "I’m kidding, ttoki. Unless… you have cooties?"

Jungkook forced out a laugh, but it came out dry. Unlike the droplet of water that slipped past your lips and trailed slowly down the curve of your fucking neck. His gaze followed it unbiddenly as it disappeared beneath the neckline of your cropped t-shirt.

“Jeonggukkie?”

His head jerked up. "Hm?"

“I asked when you guys are going up?” you repeated gently, tilting your head in that adorable, curious way you did—like a puppy waiting for a response.

Jungkook blinked, pulling his thoughts together. “Two more acts, jjogi,” he said softly.

You nodded, satisfied, flashing him that pretty smile—the one where your eyes crinkle just slightly, your nose scrunches up, and he can see your dimple peeking through.

So pretty, he groaned inwardly. He could write a fucking song about it.

Without a word, you quickly scoped your surroundings before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. Jungkook’s fingers reacted faster than his brain, linking with yours like second nature. You tugged him forward, weaving through the bare backstage area.

For a moment, Jungkook wondered where you were taking him. To the monitors where he saw your unnies heading? To the guest section, so you could experience SHINee’s performance from the best possible view?

His mind wandered briefly, curiously.

But then again, it didn’t really matter, did it? His inner voice snarked.

He’d follow you anywhere.

“What’d ya think?” Jungkook’s voice caught you off guard, his grin wide as you yelped in surprise.

Your phone almost slipped from your hand as you spun around with wide eyes. "It was so good, ttoki," you replied, trying to catch your breath. You gave him a smile, the initial shock fading. “As always.”

Jungkook’s grin widened, very pleased by your words. As he stepped closer with his arms outstretched and ready to pull you into a hug, you took a small step back. He frowned.

“You okay, jjogi?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, holding your phone tightly in front of you. Your eyes flickered around the room, and Jungkook followed your gaze, his brows pulling together.

"What?" he asked, voice low with uncertainty.

“There's a couple people,” you murmured quietly, like it should’ve been obvious.

Jungkook blinked, his frown deepening. "They're just staff…"

Your phone buzzed, and instantly, your thumb slid to the mute button to silence it. Jungkook noticed but didn’t say anything. He just waited, watching as you slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Ttoki, we can’t, you know…” you trailed off, your head tilting to one side like you were waiting for him to understand.

But he didn’t.

“We can’t… what?” he asked, the confusion in his voice almost making you laugh.

With a soft shake of your head, you reached for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his as you started to lead him through the crowd of people backstage. He followed without hesitation, his fingers curling around yours as he kept quiet.

When you reached the double doors separating backstage from the dressing room hallway, you pushed them open, sliding through with Jungkook right behind you. His hand found yours again, fingers slipping easily into place as you walked.

“Can’t what, jjogi?” he asked again, his steps slowing as he tugged lightly at your hand.

In the distance, Jin’s windshield wiper laugh grew louder as you approached his dressing room. Jungkook’s footsteps dragged. He didn't want to get there just yet.

“Hug in public,” youclarified simply, swinging your linked hands between you.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. "Was barely anyone back there.. And it’s just a quick hug," he said, looking down at your entwined fingers. "We hold hands in public."

“Yeah, but holding hands can be interpreted as friendly, I guess,” you shrugged, your pace slowing as Jungkook’s did, both of you nearly crawling down the hall now.

“A hug really can’t be interpreted as friendly?” he asked quietly.

“A hug can,” you nodded, glancing up at him with a cute smile. “But your hugs? Not so much.”

At that, he pouted. Like, full-on Jeon Jeongguk power-pouted.

You giggled, the sound quiet in the empty hallway, before resting your head against his arm. “Ttoki, it’s not a bad thing. I love your hugs,” you reassured him, your hand gently rubbing his bare arm. “But I don't know those staff members enough to trust them… and if we got dragged into heat over you just looking at me, I can’t imagine what a picture of us hugging would do.”

Jungkook sighed, his head dipping. “You mean you got dragged into heat, not me,” he grumbled.

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, your brows knitting together. “Stop that. You got backlash too—”

“Not like you did,” he cut in. “And it was my fault.”

You let out a soft sigh, rubbing his arm again, trying to soothe the weight he carried. “Ttoki, I don’t care what people say about us. They don’t know us. I just don’t want stupid rumors to hurt our groups, that's all.”

Jungkook’s thumb brushed across the back of your hand. “I know, jjogi,” he murmured, guilt lacing his words. “I’m so sorry.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his arm, hoping to end the topic once and for all. “You’ve apologized a hundred times, and I’ve growled you a hundred times, ttoki. It's okay. Okay?”

Jungkook’s eyes softened as you stopped in front of the bathroom door. He tilted his head, watching you curiously as you pulled away.

“I need to pee,” you explained with a grin. “I’ll meet you in the dressing room, ‘kay?”

He shook his head slightly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "I’ll wait here."

You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Jeonggukkie, it’s fine,” you said with a quiet laugh. “The girls are in there too. Probably figuring out what we’re doing for dinner.”

“I know,” he replied easily. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, his stance shifting to a more comfortable position against the wall. “I’ll wait. What if you get kidnapped or something?”

“Aish,” you snorted, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. “Okay, but if someone sees you hanging around outside the girls’ bathroom like a creep…”

“Yahh,” he chuckled, jerking his head toward the door. “Just go. Hurry up.”

Your laughter lingered in his ears as you disappeared into the restroom.

A few minutes later, as you pressed the foot pedal of the trash can to toss the paper towel, you heard the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice outside the bathroom.

“Sorry, ttoki, I couldn’t hear you properly. What did you sa—” you called out as you tried to open the door, but it stopped halfway, hitting something on the other side.

“Oops, sorry!” a soft, feminine voice giggled from the other side, stepping back to let you through.

“Shit, are you okay?” you asked, quickly slipping through the gap, hands hovering near her arms in concern.

“I’m fine!” she squeaked, bowing quickly in apology.

You let out a relieved sigh and mirrored her gesture. "Are you sur—"

"Of course! I was the one in your way—" she began, her words trailing off as her eyes lit up in sudden recognition. “Wah, Jang Y/N-seonbaenim? I’m such a huge fan! I’m Lee Mijoo.”

"Wow, thank you so much,” you smiled, cupping her outstretched hand between both of yours. “Lee Mijoo… Oh woah, you’re in Lovelyz! My members and I were just listening to your performance. It was amazing.”

Her wide eyes sparkled, her voice a little breathless as she replied, “R-really? Thank you so much! Ah, they're going to freak out when I tell them about this..."

Your cheeks flushed as you laughed softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Jungkook watched the interaction, lips pressed together as he tried not to smile. You were so cute.

“Okay, I really better go, I think I’m holding up dinner…” You laughed again, giving Mijoo a final bow, which she eagerly returned. “It was nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really! Thank you so much. Have a great dinner!” Mijoo smiled brightly, and you returned it, stepping back.

As your gaze shifted to Jungkook, you noticed his eyes were already on Mijoo. She had turned back toward him, continuing their conversation as if no time had passed.

You watched, breath catching for a moment as her hand lightly brushed against his chest.

Jungkook’s ears, already tinted red from his usual shyness, deepened in color. And there it was—his stupid bunny smile. The one you knew so well. Right there on his pouty lips as he looked down at her.

A strange pang settled in your chest, sharp but soft, as if you’d swallowed something too big and it was lodged somewhere just behind your heart. You pushed it down quickly before turning quietly and heading toward the dressing room where your friends were waiting.

Behind you, Mijoo’s soft giggles lingered in the hallway, the sound trailing after you like a taunting echo.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself bundled up in the jacket Taehyung had handed you when he noticed your thin coat not doing much to stop your shivering. You sat quietly on a stool while Nari stood behind you, her fingers gently combing through your hair.

"You alright, honey?" she asked softly, her hands sliding from your hair to rest on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

“Hm?" You blinked, snapping out of the daze you had drifted into, your gaze distant. Adjusting the coat draped around your shoulders, you looked up at her. "Yeah, I’m okay, unnie."

Nari nodded, though not fully convinced. She knew you well enough to recognize when something was off. Still, she didn’t press, trusting that if you needed her, you’d speak up. "You hungry?" she asked, her tone gentle.

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning back into her embrace as her arms wrapped around you. “Are we going to eat now?”

“We’re supposed to be,” Taehyung grumbled from where he sat next to Jimin on the couch, his eyes flicking up from his phone. "We’re just waiting for Jeonggukkie. Where is he, Y/N-ssi? Thought he was with you?"

Before you could answer, the door swung open, and in walked the man of the hour—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly hooded. You swallowed down the bitter taste creeping up your throat.

A collective groan of satisfaction rippled through the room as Jungkook stepped inside, flashing an apologetic smile while dodging playful shoves from his hyungs. His gaze swept over the room, eyes settling on you almost instantly.

"Alright, let’s go," Namjoon called, standing to gather his things. The others followed suit, moving to grab their clothes and bags.

You stayed quiet, watching as Jungkook navigated around Namjoon and started heading your way. Quickly slipping your arms into the sleeves of Taehyung’s jacket, you adjusted it so it wasn’t hanging loosely on your shoulders before turning to Nari. “Unnie, can we go, please?”

Nari’s brows knitted slightly at the urgency in your voice, but she nodded, grabbing her purse and coat before holding out her hand to you. You snatched your phone off the bench, linking your arm with hers, practically hugging her side as she gently ushered your other members to grab their things.

Jiyoung and Eunji moved like fucking snails, lazily climbing off the loveseat, and it took every ounce of restraint not to stomp your foot in frustration. You could feel Jungkook’s presence drawing closer, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you, tightening like an invisible net.

Nari felt the change in your posture.She glanced down at your face, then over your shoulder, her gaze landing on Jungkook as he approached. She looked back and forth between the two of you, then at Jiyoung and Eunji who were still taking their sweet time. With a quiet sigh, she let go of your arm.

Your eyes snapped to hers in panic. You opened your mouth to protest, but the firm look she gave you stopped you in your tracks, making your lips press together in a pout. She stepped away, and your shoulders sagged in defeat. You didn’t have much of a choice anymore—you’d have to talk to him.

You didn’t really have a reason to avoid Jungkook. Nothing you could explain out loud, at least. You just… didn’t feel like it right now.

But when you turned, bracing yourself to face him, relief flooded through you at the sight of Nari intercepting his path.

You exhaled, grabbing the arms of your other two members—who had finally gathered their things—ignoring their teasing laughs as you dragged them out of the dressing room.

“Hey, Jungkook-ssi,” Nari greeted, offering the younger boy a warm smile as he slowed to a stop.

“Hi, noona—oh, Y/N-yah, hey, wait—” Jungkook’s voice trailed off as he watched you hurriedly slip out of the room with Eunji and Jiyoung, leaving only him and your leader behind. “Ah, she must not have heard you,” Nari said with a soft sigh, patting his back as she gently steered him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go have some dinner.”

You had only just stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind you as the door clicked shut.

The scent of spices from the kitchen floated down the hallway, mixing with the lingering warmth of your shower. You hugged the towel you’d used on your hair to your chest, eyes half-lidded with the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

Just as you began to head for your dorm, footsteps echoed behind you, drawing your attention. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jungkook walking toward you, his smile soft, eyes raking over you familiar way he does. Your hair was still damp, falling over your shoulders, and the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing clung comfortably to your skin.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice low, still warm from the kitchen heat. He gave you a once-over, smile widening at the sight of you looking so cozy. "Dinner’s almost ready. Couch or floor?"

Your head tilted as you thought. It was always one or the other, the two of you eating dinner together with the group, perched either on the couch or sitting cross-legged on the floor.

But the image of him asking Lee Mijoo that same question nagged at the back of your mind, a thought you shoved down before it could fester.

"Couch," you answered quietly.

Jungkook nodded, about to turn back toward the living room when he noticed it. Something about the way you stood, or maybe it was your shoulders… they were just a little off. Not something most people would pick up on, but then again, most people weren’t irrevocably in love with you.

"You alright, jjogi?" he asked, voice softer now.

"Uh-huh," you replied with a small smile, turning away before he could ask anything else. "I’ll be out in a sec."

"O—" Jungkook started, but the door to your dorm clicked shut before he could finish. He stood there for a second longer, staring at the closed door, muttering the rest to himself. "-kay."

A few minutes later, Jungkook was back in the living room, adjusting the cushions on the couch when he heard footsteps approaching. "Move, hyung," he grumbled at Jimin, nudging him sharply to get him to scoot over to the left side of the couch instead of sitting smack-bang in the middle.

"Yah!" Jimin laughed, swatting at him. "You’re not the only one who wants to sit next to Y/N-ssi, you know—"

"Shut up," Jungkook shot back, easily overpowering him and forcing him to slide over.

Jungkook planted himself stubbornly in the middle with a huff. He had planned on giving you the middle seat, letting Jimin sit next to you too. But now, Jimin gets nothing.

"Aish, you little—" Jimin shook his head, laughing, just as you wandered into the room.

You had socks and a little zip-up jacket on now, and Jungkook's eyes immediately flicked to the air conditioning meter on the wall. It's warm already.

Maybe you're getting sick, he thought. Ah, that must be why you seemed a little off earlier.

The long coffee table was covered in a spread of food, and your stomach growled in response as you flopped down next to Jungkook. His arm immediately reached out, grabbing an empty bowl and glancing back at you. He pointed at the pot of kimchi-jjigae, a silent question on his lips. It was your favorite, and he already knew you’d want it, but he asked anyway.

You nodded with a small smile, pulling your legs up and crossing them beneath you. Your sock-covered foot pressed against his thigh while his gaze lingered for a second, eyes flickering over your face before he nodded. Turning back to the table, he scooped some rice into the bowl, then topped it with the steaming stew. He grabbed a spoon and handed the bowl to you, careful not to let it spill.

"Thank you," you murmured, giving him a quiet smile before mouthing, 'ttoki'.

Jungkook bit back a laugh, knowing you only whispered it because his brothers loved teasing him whenever you called him that in front of them. He didn’t care. He’d told you that a thousand times, but you still didn't want them to tease him.

Jungkook leaned forward to grab his own bowl when Jimin poked his arm. "Jeonggukkie, can you dish me a bowl too, please?"

"Do it yourself," Jungkook grumbled, scooping his own portion of stew.

"Ttoki!" you gasped in shock, laughing as you nudged him with your foot. "Don’t be rude."

"Yeah, ttoki," Taehyung chimed in from his spot on the floor, snickering with Jiyoung as they dug into their food. "Don’t be rude."

Jungkook’s eyes went wide as he looked at you, and you just tilted your head innocently. He sighed, lips pulling to the side in a begrudging frown as he scooped some of the stew into a bowl for Jimin. He grabbed a spoon and clanked it into the bowl a little aggressively before thrusting it toward Jimin.

"Thank you, ttoki," Jimin cooed, accepting the bowl with a sickeningly sweet smile. "And be a darling bunny and pass me a couple of dumpl—"

You placed your hand on Jungkook’s arm, holding him back just as he lunged at Jimin, ready to tackle him into the back of the couch.

Dinner was amazing.

You only had one bowl, and though you could've easily finished another, maybe two, you stopped yourself. Practice was early tomorrow, and you knew better than to overeat and feel sick or sluggish. Jungkook, however, kept trying to slip you dumplings or a bread roll whenever he saw the empty bowl in your lap.

You just shook your head, smiling, settling deeper into the couch. He wasn’t thrilled, but when you rested your head on his arm, he relaxed a bit, quietly going back to his second serving.

Now, the cold night air nipped at your neck, sharp against your skin as you sat against the rough brick wall outside the building. The gravel dug into your sweatpants, uncomfortable but not unbearable. You adjusted the phone in your hand as your mother’s concerned voice filled the quiet night.

“Have you been eating well?” she asked, her tone halfway between worried and accusatory. “You’re looking a bit thin, gongju.”

You smiled softly, tilting your head as you rested your chin on your knees. “Yes, eomma. I just had a nice dinner,” you reassured her. “I had the flu, remember? Took a while to get back to normal, but I’m fine now.”

Your mom sighed, the sound crackling through the video call. “Mm. I’ll send some extra choco pies in my next package, just in case—”

“Don’t, please,” you laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I can’t eat those right now, eomma. I’m—”

But your words were cut off by the rise of her familiar Daegu accent, sharp with concern. She launched into a tirade about “dangerous diets” and “ending up in the hospital.”

You winced, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you cut in, “It’s not a bad diet, eomma. It’s a healthy one. I’m just taking better care of myself… something I haven’t done in a while." You laughed lightly, your gaze dropping to the gravel at your feet.

Her sigh came softer this time, a little more accepting. "Well, I'm glad to hear that." A pause lingered between you, then her voice softened again. "You look happy, my gongju. You’re so beautiful when you’re happy."

“Thanks, eomma,” you murmured, your smile widening. "I am happy." You nodded before adding, "You look good too. I like your haircut."

Your mother’s hand automatically went to her hair, fingers combing through the strands of her shoulder-length bob. “Ah, yes. My friend Dong-wook did it, free of charge,” she said with a sly smile. “You remember him, right? The hair stylist I told you about?”

“Mmhm," you hummed knowingly, teasing. “Free of charge, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes. "Don’t start that, Y/N,” she scolded lightly, but you could see her lips curving into a playful smile. “Men and women can be just friends.” 

You blinked, holding back the laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Right.”

She gave you a pointed look before finally breaking into a full smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Isn’t that right, gongju?”

“Eomma,” you warned, shifting your position against the wall.

Your mom was one of the few people you trusted with everything. One of the few who had always supported your dreams, no matter how crazy or far-fetched they seemed. But in moments like this, you almost regretted how much she knew.

“I’m just saying,” she pressed on, “I’m not getting any younger, gongju… and I want to see you happy. With someone who cares about yo—”   “Eomma,” you interrupted, laughing softly, “You’re only forty-three. And I’m nineteen. I have plenty of time for all of that...”   “You do,” she agreed, her voice dipping into a knowing hum. “But why wait when you have everything you need right in front of you?”

You let out a short, exasperated laugh. “Subject change, please,” you muttered, trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction. 

But your mom wasn’t done. “Ah, you’re so focused on your career, darling, and that’s good! But don’t forget that you can still enjoy life… and love.” She gave you that endearing look, the one that made you feel like a child all over again. “You can have both.”

You sighed with a chuckle, resting your chin on your knees again. “Eomma, shouldn’t you be telling me to focus on my career? Not to do drugs or run around chasing boys?” 

She laughed, a warm, rich sound that made your chest ache with homesickness. “Ah, gongju. First of all, I know you’d never do drugs. You’re too much of a gongju for that.” You gasped in mock offense, but she just chuckled. “And as for boys… Honey, you just have to stand in place. He’s the one doing all the running.”

“Eomma,” you groaned, pressing your head against your knees as her sweet laugh echoed through the phone.

“Well, am I wrong?” she teased, and you could practically see the arch of her brow. “He looks at you like you hung every star in the sky. It’s just so adorab—” 

“Stop it,” you whined, hiding your face further. “Guys and girls can be just friends, okay? Just like you and Dong-wook.” 

“Ahhh, I see. Well, if you and Jeongguk-ssi are those kinds of friends,” she said with a mischievous lilt, “then I have nothing to worry about.” 

“Eomma!” You nearly screamed, a hand flying to your face. “Please, I just ate. Don’t make me throw it all up.”

Her laughter bubbled up again, and despite your frustration, you found yourself smiling. “Okay, okay, gongju. I’ll stop.” A brief pause followed before her eyes shifted. “Oh, Jeongguk-ah! Hello, sweetie! How are you?” 

Peeking around the corner of the wall, you saw Jungkook approaching, hands tucked into his pockets, his bunny smile lighting up as soon as he saw your mom.

“Hi, eomma,” he waved, plopping down next to you. You scooted over, making room for him as he took the phone from your hands. “I’m well, and you? Wah, I love your haircut.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm linked through his, letting their conversation wash over you. The warmth of his hoodie against your cheek and the gentle rumble of his voice made your eyelids feel heavier. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. 

As your breathing slowed, Jungkook’s voice grew quieter, the volume on your phone clicking down softly three times. You didn’t notice him reach over to pull the zipper of your jacket up properly. But your mom did.

“One second, eomma,” Jungkook said, his voice soft as he turned the phone away. The faint sound of the zipper echoed before he brought the phone back. “Sorry about that. So, what did Minho-hyung do next?” 

Your mom smiled, her eyes catching the sight of your peaceful face, now bundled up against Jungkook’s side, your cheek pressed to his arm as you slept.

“Ah, yes, where was I?” she murmured, a fond smile on her lips as she continued her story. 

Mothers know best.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the living room as Toy Story 2 played its final scenes.

The house had long since quieted—everyone else had already gone to bed after the first movie. But you and Jungkook remained, curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over your legs.

It was late. You had practice at 9am, and Jungkook had a full day of promotions ahead, but neither of you moved. 

As the credits began to roll, Jungkook shifted beside you, his voice low and thick with sleep. “Wanna watch the third one?”

You glanced up at him, taking in the way his eyelids drooped, the way his head barely held itself up. “Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked softly.

He nodded, but the movement was languid. “A little..” he mumbled, though even he knew the truth was written all over his face.

Jungkook had been up since 5am, and his exhaustion was obvious, but there was no way he was going to be the one to end the night. Not when he was here, wrapped up in a cozy fucking blanket with you, watching one of his favorite movies.

“Last one,” he added, more to himself than to you, as if convincing his body to stay awake just a little longer.

You smiled softly, nodding as he stood up, gathering the empty popcorn bowl. He stretched, a yawn slipping from his lips before he bent to grab your water bottle from the coffee table. He gave it a small shake, noticing it was nearly empty, and tucked it under his arm. “Be back in a sec,” he murmured, his steps slow as he disappeared into the kitchen.

You watched him go, warmth filling your chest as you reached for the remote. You began typing Toy Story 3 into the search bar when Jungkook’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Your fingers hesitated over the remote for a split second, your eyes drifting to the lit-up screen. You quickly shook off the urge to look, refocusing on the TV as you continued your search. The letters appeared slowly on the screen, but the phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back.

You tried to ignore it. Really… you did. You forced yourself to focus on the title in front of you, but it wasn't long until another buzz echoed through the room.

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Alright, Mr. Popular, you thought, lips curving in a humourless smile as you clicked on the movie, pausing it while it loaded to wait for Jungkook.

The quiet around you felt heavier than it should’ve. The only sounds were the soft hum of the microwave and the trickle of water from the kitchen as Jungkook filled your bottle. Your eyes flicked to his phone again, resting innocently on the table.

You didn’t know why you did it.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else. But your hand moved of its own accord, fingertips brushing the screen and watching as it lit up.

His notifications flashed before your eyes—Instagram, Clash of Clans, (1) text from Eomma, (3) text from Unknown.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were already typing in his passcode.

Unknown [11:48 PM] hey jungkook! sorry i hope this doesn't wake youㅋㅋ [11:48 PM] it's me, lee mijoo!! [11:49 PM] just let me know when you wanted to meet up :) 💖

A rush of heat spread through your chest, your fingers freezing over the screen before you scrambled to lock the phone. Your breath was shaky as you placed it back on the table, the blanket that had been so warm moments ago now felt suffocating, too heavy, too much.

You tried to steady your thoughts, shifting uncomfortably on the couch as you heard Jungkook returning. He plopped down beside you with a soft grunt, his arm brushing yours as he held out the water bottle. “Did you want some?”

You just shook your head, unable to find your voice. Jungkook gave a small nod, setting the bottle on the table as he checked his phone briefly.

You watched out of the corner of your eye, your stomach twisting as his thumb hovered over the notifications. He swiped through them casually, not even bothering to read the messages before setting the phone back down, oblivious.

Jungkook settled back into the couch, adjusting the popcorn bowl on his lap as he reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulders like he always did. But this time, you leaned forward quickly, grabbing the remote before he could touch you. His arm hovered for a second, confused, before dropping limply to his side.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he waited, watching as you pressed play on the movie. When you leaned back, his arm instinctively moved again, grazing your shoulder, but you shifted once more, pulling away.

This time, he knew it wasn’t an accident.

“Jjogi?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, lips pressed tightly together, your gaze fixed on the screen. “Yeah,” you murmured, watching as Woody chased after One-Eyed Betty.

Jungkook frowned, concern etched into his features. His stomach knotted as he shoved a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were upset. That he had done something.

So he set the bowl on the coffee table, turning toward you. “Are you too tired? We don’t have to keep watching if you want to sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” you replied, your tone clipped.

You weren’t lying—you didn’t feel tired anymore. But you weren’t exactly sure what you felt, either. All you knew was that you didn’t like it.

“Did I…do something?” he asked hesitantly, his heart sinking as he searched your face.

“No.” The word came out flat, your eyes never leaving the screen.

“Are you hungry? I could—”

“God, Jeongguk, would you just stop?” you snapped, cutting him off. “I said I’m fine. Just watch the movie.”

He flinched, swallowing hard at the sharpness in your voice.

Jeongguk? You were pissed.

But he had no idea why.

“Jjogi—” he started again, but before he could finish, you tossed the blanket off your legs and stood up abruptly. His eyes widened as he watched you stomp away.

In your haste, your leg hit the edge of the coffee table, knocking your water bottle over and sending his phone tumbling to the floor. Jungkook leaned forward immediately, grabbing the bottle and standing it upright before scooping up his phone.

“Jjogi,” he called softly, trailing after you as you walked toward your room.

“Just go away, Jeongguk,” you muttered, your voice low and tired.

“Please, jjogi,” he pleaded, his steps quickening to catch up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sighed, still walking. “I just want to be alone.”

“All of a sudden?” His frown deepened, frustration creeping into his voice. “Please, just talk to me.”

You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. "Why don’t you just go talk to Mijoo?"

Jungkook froze, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "Mijoo?" he echoed, the name foreign on his lips, as though he had to drag it out of the depths of his mind. "What… what are you talking about?"

Mijoo? Lee Mijoo? The conversation they’d had with her earlier replayed in his mind, but nothing about it stood out. Had she said something to upset you? No way. He would’ve noticed.

“Okay, I really better go. I think I’m holding up dinner…” you’d said with a light laugh as you tried to make your exit. Jungkook had nodded absentmindedly, his stomach grumbling as he prepared to part ways with Mijoo and follow you. “It was so nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really, thank you so much. Have a good dinner!” Mijoo had smiled, her face bright and friendly.

Jungkook had smiled politely in return, already about to bow and follow after you, when Mijoo’s hand brushed lightly against him. “Wow, so you’re really a ‘97-liner? Gah, so talented…”

He’d felt the heat creeping up his neck, a blush rising as he shook his head. “Ahh, thank you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you turning to leave, your figure retreating down the hall and disappearing into the doorway of the dressing room without so much as a glance back at him. His heart sank.

“Ah, I better—” he’d started, ready to go after you.

But Mijoo’s soft, hopeful voice interrupted him. “Would it be too forward of me to ask for your number? I really enjoyed talking to you, and would love to do it again sometime? Maybe we could…”

Jungkook didn't hear the rest of her words, his eyes darting back toward the now-empty hallway where you had disappeared. A dull ache settled in his chest.

He barely registered Mijoo’s outstretched phone, his hand moving automatically to take it. He forced a smile, fingers trembling slightly as he typed his number into the device. But his heart wasn’t in it.

Obviously, his subconscious mocked. Because it belongs to her.

i’ll reblog with my taglist tmrw, i’m about to get taken by the sleepy police..😞 love youu 💗💤

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Oh my gosh— someone who writes for nam-gyu? Am I dreaming?! I CANNOT find any fics of him!! Need headcannons about him rn😩 I feel like that man would enjoy making you cry and upset, like he would grin and laugh while doing so. (Cough— Hatefuck—cough..) Just need headcannons about that man so bad😩🫣

This is actually my first time asking, so I really don't know what to say🥲 but I hope you consider this🫶🫶🫶

-🌟anon

warning | nsfw content

word count | 0,6k

a/n | thank you so much for your request luv! I hope I could write something as you wanted

！he's had mixed feelings from the moment he first saw you. hate? anger? like?

oh no, not like. he just hates you so much that he wants to fuck you until you know your place.

"fucking bitch."

"huh?" thanos looked at him incomprehensibly, about to turn his head to you, but nam-gyu quickly changed the subject "nothing."

！he's insanely jealous of thanos👀 even if you don't respond to his flirting, seeing a man next to you makes him angry enough. at least it gives him a reason to make you cry more.

！he should be the only one who annoys you. if he sees someone picking on you, he'll quickly intervene, at first he'll protect you from that person, but then...

"are you too stupid to not protect yourself? no. don't even think about crying." his emotionless voice makes you tremble as he watches you quickly wipe your tears away "good. don't you dare unless I make those tears flow."

！he likes to tease you until you cry because he thinks you look so beautiful with tears in your eyes. If you turn your head and try to hide your face from him, he will forcefully grab your chin and make you look at him with your eyes full of tears. you will see that he is trying to calm down by taking a deep breath because oh...you have no idea how horny he is.

！If he can't sleep at night, he will come to your bed and bother you. If he can't sleep, you can't sleep either. but strangely, talking at night is when you get along the most. guess you are both too tired to argue, but that doesn't mean he won't say a few things about you.

okay, now please hear me out..

！this man is completely clingy when he loves you, but he is also hard when he fucks you, I can't say he doesn't like slow sex, but when he can fuck you like crazy, he doesn't really think about the other option.

！I say clingy because he can never be comfortable if his hand is not on your body in some way. he has to touch you in some way so that he feels better. when you least expect it, you may find his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him "mm...look who's here?"

！If we talk about life outside of the game, you can become his only world. yes, he likes to make you cry and upset. but only you. the others have never caught his attention and they don't. he still thinks you have the most beautiful tears.

！I can't say he's very loud in bed. he'll mostly let out short gasps and short moans. he likes listening to you more, whine for him and he'll make you see stars.

！he likes to tease you and make you cum so much that you cry from sensitivity. when you beg him to stop, he just puckers his lower lip in a mocking tone.

"aw.. does it hurt? what should I do?" he leans into your ear while his fingers, which don't stop, hit the inside of your pussy hard while you just had your 3rd orgasm "Is that all you can take? c'mon.. you can give me more, hm? ah..yes don't hide your voice from me, fuck-"

！he'll run his hand over you while you're sleeping at night, sorry not sorry. when you open your eyes and notices how his fingers are expertly tangled in your wetness, he'll smirk and say "you awake? good. now you better spread your legs for me and be loud as possible."

he's obsessed with you in some way, romantic or not, and he has no plans to leave your side.

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 11)

A/N: oh my god guys I finally wrote the next part! Please like it lol. I did see this as the end of the story but I purposely kept it open so if I ever did want to write more I could

Special shoutout to @lunargrrrl because without you saying that you loved this story I probably wouldn't have even touched it for at least another month (I love your writing so much I would do anything for you)

Word count:

Warnings: oral sex, scissoring, little bit of angst?

Taglist: 3440

@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna (sorry if I forgot you or if I put you twice, I just copied and pasted the taglist from the part 10 and then whoever said they wanted to be on it recently)

“Hey!” You call after your step-mom as she struts through the parking lot back to her car, never breaking a stride, leaving you to chase after. “Agatha, wait!” 

She doesn’t even turn around, just unlocks the door and slides in, and she’s turning on the car when you finally make it into the passenger seat. 

You’re a little out of breath, so you take a moment to compose yourself. Agatha is staring forward, hands gripped on the steering wheel. “What was that?” You’re finally able to ask. 

Her knuckles turn white but she doesn’t answer. She shifts into drive and pulls forward and you can see how tightly her jaw is clenched. 

“Agatha, will you please talk to me?” You’re begging at this point, you don’t know what else to do, because something is wrong. That wasn’t her plan. 

Although, neither was fucking you in the bathroom. 

Your body betrays you and the concern you’re supposed to be feeling right now and heats up at the memory. You can still feel her thrusting inside you, your hips hitting the cold sink top, her hand wound in your hair making you watch yourself get absolutely railed by her. 

Stop. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, to get your mind out of the gutter, and Agatha finally pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s a good sign she didn’t take you back to your mom’s house, you suppose. She slams the car door after she gets out and storms into the house, you following hot on her heels. 

Agatha goes right to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. She takes a long sip and a deep inhale, and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she opens her eyes, she finally looks at you like she’s seeing you for the first time. 

“I’m sorry I did that with you there,” she says and you almost laugh. Is that what she was upset about? 

You shake your head and steal the glass from her, taking a gulp and wincing at the bitter taste. Agatha raises an eyebrow at your blatant underage drinking in front of her, but says nothing. You swallow the wine hard and make a face. “Don’t be. It was kind of hot,” you admit, and she chuckles humorlessly. And then a thought dawns on you. “Wait, do you think he’s going to think something happened in the bathroom? Cause we both went, and then you came out and said you wanted a divorce.” 

There’s a glint in Agatha’s eye. “You really think he’s going to assume that I fucked my stepdaughter against the sink in a restaurant bathroom and then decided to break things off?” 

“Well…” You trail off, the leap to that conclusion seeming a bit implausible, especially for him. Your dad has a hard time focusing on things that aren’t himself. “Seems like we’re in the clear, at least.” 

Agatha snorts and drains the rest of the wine. There’s still something off about her, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, your voice softening. “I mean, are we okay? I know we said earlier that we didn’t know what this would mean for us –” 

She cuts you off by slamming the glass down on the countertop so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t break and then closes her eyes to take a deep breath. You freeze. “I’m sorry,” Agatha says eventually, but it’s unclear if she’s apologizing for the reaction or for something else. Maybe for the whole thing between you? 

There’s an uneasy feeling that starts to grow in your stomach. Is she going to break things off with you too? 

Not that there’s anything to break off, is there? It hasn’t even been that long since this thing started, but it’s been intense. More intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

You know that it might kill you if she walks away now. 

“Do you not want this?” Your question is like a stab to your gut, you’ve never sounded smaller in your life, and your heart pounds heavily in your chest while you wait for an answer. You need to know.

Agatha’s hands fidget on the counter, it looks like she wants to pour herself another glass of wine, but she refrains. “We can talk about what happens next later,” she says levelly and walks away without another word. 

The pit in your stomach only grows. How did you go from being fucked by Agatha’s strap not even an hour ago to this cold distance between you? She had been so possessive, so inflamed by the thought that you would even entertain another woman. 

The sound of her footsteps recedes up the stairs. What does she expect you to do? She picked you up from your mom’s house, and you can’t exactly call her to come get you. 

So you go upstairs and find Agatha in her bedroom, swiping at her face while she’s throwing clothes into a suitcase. You momentarily lose your train of thought when she slides open a drawer and you see about a dozen sets of lacy lingerie. 

Agatha clears it out and dumps it into the suitcase. 

And then your brows furrow in confusion. “Wait, you’re moving out? Why not make my dad?” 

She looks at you like she didn’t even realize you had come in. “It’s easier this way. I’ll get an apartment closer to my job. Your dad can do whatever he wants with this place, he’s the one that wanted it in the first place.” 

“Oh. Okay,” you say, a little dumbfounded. Everything is happening so fast, completely spinning out of control, and you don’t know what to make of it. She spares you another glance before standing up and moving to clear out her nightstand. 

She takes out a vibrator and the rope she tied you up with just yesterday and places them on top of the lingerie. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about my dad catching us anymore, right?” You try to joke, but definitely not the time or place.

Agatha stiffens. “Honey,” she starts, and you know you’re not going to like this. 

“No,” you interrupt. “You’re getting divorced. We don’t have to sneak around anymore, or at least not as much. I like you, Agatha, and I don’t know how you feel about me–” 

“I’m leaving your father because of you,” she snaps and it’s like you’ve been slapped in the face. A thick silence settles over the two of you and you can see how hard she’s clenching her jaw. 

“What?” You whisper. “He’s having an affair, I feel like that should be your main priority.” But your heart is beating fast and you feel like you’re getting close to getting something real from her. 

She rolls her eyes and faces you directly. “Obviously. But I was thinking about it before. He’s not the only one who’s been having an affair here.” Was she leaving him because it’s the right thing to do? Or–

“So…” The pieces are scrambling to connect in your mind. “You want to be with me?” 

Agatha scoffs like the idea is ridiculous. “Be with the eighteen year old about to go off to college and find plenty of girls her own age to fuck?” 

She’s insecure? You can tell Agatha doesn’t completely understand how she’s feeling either, you can see the storm brewing in her eyes. She’s conflicted, torn between her own feelings. 

You walk over to where she’s standing and put your hands on her shoulders. Agatha doesn’t even meet your eyes. But then you slide your hands down her arms, onto her hips, and sink down to your knees. 

Now she looks at you and swallows hard. You can see the effect you’re having on her, her blown out pupils, and it only spurs you on. 

Your fingers fiddle with the zipper on your pants, carefully watching her face for any sign of hesitation. You drag the zipper down slowly and she helps you take off her pants and steps out of them like she’s in a trance. She’s still wearing the strap-on, it still smells like you – fuck, don’t get distracted. 

You loosen the harness and slide that down her legs too before leaning in and nipping at her thigh. 

“Let me show you how much I don’t want someone my own age?” You offer, gazing at her through your eyelashes. 

Her hand tangles in your hair and you let out a quiet gasp. “Go ahead, babygirl,” she says in a low voice, the voice that always gets you going, and pushes your head in-between her legs. 

It’s a bit of an awkward position, with her standing above you, stance slightly widened with you on the ground in front of her, but you make it work. 

You flatten your tongue and lick through her folds, collecting her wetness and moaning at the taste. It’s something you’ll never get tired of. You think you could easily spend hours eating Agatha out, and that’s something you’d like to try if she lets you. 

When your tongue flicks against her clit, her hand tightens in your hair and she lets out a moan and you do it again, desperate to please, desperate to hear more sounds fall from her lips. She lets out a little gasp when you suck on her clit, and you do it harder. Agatha’s hips jerk and she tugs on your hair, causing you to moan against her pussy. 

“God, honey, right there,” she says hoarsely and you double-down on your efforts, rubbing your tongue up and down over her clit while maintaining eye contact. Her groan is deep and she keeps brushing away the hair that falls over your face so she can see you. 

Your hands trace her thighs, the front and the back, and you dig your nails into the skin, leaving crescent indentations. The muscles in her legs tighten and she tries to roll her hips against your face but the position you two are in makes that challenging. 

So she steps back, your tongue still moving instinctively even though her pussy is gone, and you whine her name. 

She smirks and runs a hand through her hair, collecting herself for a second. “Don’t worry, baby. Mommy just wants to move to the bed.” 

Agatha walks to her bed, sits and leans back, spreading her legs for you. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of her dripping cunt that was on your face not a minute earlier and you move to stand up, but she stops you. 

“Stay on your knees,” she orders and you clench around nothing. The carpet is rough on your skin, but you can feel yourself getting wetter from her intense but appreciative gaze as you practically crawl across the room for her. 

You finally get to her and you push open her legs even more, first deciding to kiss up the length of each inner thigh. She shakes beneath you, especially when you get close to the heat between them, and she gasps when you nip at the pale skin. And then you dive back into her pussy, thrusting your tongue inside her, and she’s able to grind much more on your face without fear of falling over when she’s sitting like this. 

Your stepmom rides your face and all you have to do is open your mouth and stick out your tongue and she does the rest; she drags her pussy all over, small huffs falling out of her mouth at the exertion. Agatha takes what she needs from you until you can feel her clenching and her hips start to falter – she’s getting closer. 

You slide your hands around the backs of her thighs and pull her even closer to you so you can take over, sucking roughly on her clit and then curling your tongue inside her and repeating, all while Agatha moans uncontrollably above you, her hips jerking with each touch to her clit. 

“Fuck, babygirl, right there,” she chokes out, you can feel her throbbing, feel her walls fluttering around your tongue, and you don’t change a thing about what you’re doing, keeping the same pace and speed to gradually build up her orgasm. You can feel her body getting tighter and tenser and you know she’s about to cum. 

You give her one last filthy lick up the length of her pussy and then suck on her clit harshly, and she cums all over your face, getting it absolutely soaked. 

As if you’d ever complain about that. Agatha looks so hot coming apart for you like that, and you can’t believe she’d ever think you’d rather have a college hook-up than her. 

It takes her a moment to recover, but when she tilts your chin up, you beam at her, and you can still see the heat in her eyes. 

And even though she just fucked you hard in the bathroom, you need more too. You surge up off your knees and almost knock her backwards with the force and capture her lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and lips. 

She groans at the taste of herself on you and you straddle her lap, pushing a thigh between hers so you’re both able to grind on each other while you kiss. Her hands hike up the dress you’re still wearing so she can cup your ass and guide you on her leg, pushing you down harder against her, and you have to break away from her mouth to moan. Your underwear is absolutely soaked and clinging to you, almost getting uncomfortable. 

Your fingers fumble with buttons on her silky button-down and eventually you get so exasperated that you just rip it, buttons flying everywhere around the room. Agatha chuckles in amusement and tugs on your underwear, and you reluctantly get off her for a second to take it off. 

But then you climb back on her, your lips finding hers again, and this time when her hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer, she does fall back with how hard you’re grinding and kissing. 

You don’t care. Instead, you get an idea. You’ve never tried it before, but it seems like this would be the perfect time to. 

Sitting back up, you ignore Agatha’s confused look and chew on your lip. She lets you angle one of her legs up and over your hip, while you put your other leg over hers. When your eyes flick back up to Agatha’s, you can see recognition on her face and she looks positively excited. 

And then with a deep breath, you lower yourself down and a gasp escapes your mouth when your cunt touches hers. 

“Fuck, honey,” Agatha says and you have to pause before you become overwhelmed with pleasure. 

You slowly roll your hips and you both moan. “Mommy,” you whimper. “Feels so good.” 

Her hands settle on your waist while you lean forward, bracketing her head with your arms, and she helps you move against her, your wetness mixing with hers and making it easy to slide against each other. 

“Fuck, baby, you have no idea how hot you are,” Agatha murmurs, maybe more to herself than to you, but there’s no denying how much effect those words have on you. Your clit pulses and you keen, your movements becoming sloppy, but Agatha’s hips rise to meet yours and there’s an absolute mess between the two of you in no time. 

Your head drops down so you can pepper kisses against her chest and sternum, mouthing at her breasts through her lacy, gray bra. Agatha jerks beneath you, her clit stroking against yours and you pant hotly against her skin. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, your head starting to spin with how good it feels. Her wetness, being able to feel all of her so intimately, her ragged breathing, the slight sheen of sweat on her chest. You drag your tongue over the skin at her bra line and her back arches off the bed.

Your limbs are entangled and the movements become short ruts against each other, hands flying from cheeks to hips to breasts to thighs and you can feel the tension building in your stomach. Agatha is getting closer, too, she’s breathing into your open mouth and the only sounds in the room are the two of you moaning and the slickness of your wetness. 

“Fuck, right there,” Agatha says tightly, your clit finding hers, and the two of you grind just like that, the stimulation almost too good. “God, sweetheart, you feel so good.” 

Your hips stammer and she pulls you in for a kiss, strokes her tongue into your mouth, and you cum all over her pussy, the dam inside you exploding. Pleasure races through your veins and you think your mind goes blank for a second, absolutely no thoughts except for Agatha. 

She follows shortly after, her body twitching under yours and you can feel her orgasm as she rides it out against you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever felt, and the embers of the heat inside your stomach flicker. 

You stay on top of her for a minute or two, just soaking in the feeling of her against you like that. 

And then Agatha stiffens. “I don’t know if your dad is coming home tonight, but we should probably get cleaned up.” You groan at her mentioning your dad right now, right after possibly the best sex you’ve had in your life, but she has a point. 

You get off her and find your underwear, sliding it back on and fixing your appearance in the mirror. Agatha gives you a wolfish grin and a low whistle at your reflection and you roll your eyes playfully. 

She pulls on an entirely new outfit, her pants strewn on the floor somewhere and her shirt completely ripped open, and then she washes off the strap in the sink and puts that in her suitcase, too. 

It’s as you’re following her downstairs, carrying the other suitcase she quickly packed in your hands, when your dad opens the front door, looking flustered. 

“Agatha, please, talk to me,” he begs when he sees the two of you, eyes darting in confusion between you, probably wondering what you’re doing. Your stepmom walks right past him, and you awkwardly follow. “Sweet pea,” he says, this time referring to you. “What is going on?” 

“I know you’ve been cheating,” Agatha says, pausing when she gets to the door to whirl back around to face him. He looks like he just got punched in the stomach and you almost laugh. “I’m getting a hotel tonight, and then I’ll look for an apartment. You can have everything in this house. I’ll be talking to my lawyer tomorrow.” 

It’s the quickest settlement you’ve ever seen. When your parents got divorced, they had gone back and forth for months, bickering over the smallest things like blankets and game boards. You couldn’t be more relieved that Agatha just wants a clean break and no hassle. 

She opens the door and walks out of it, you only two steps behind, and you close it after you’re both outside, ignoring your dad’s calls for you to come back. 

You both wordlessly walk to her car and she opens the trunk to put her suitcases in. She didn’t pack all of her stuff, she will still need to come back and get the rest of her clothes and whatnot, but it’s a good start. You’re more than willing to come back by yourself and get the rest of her belongings, too. 

Agatha gets into the driver’s seat and you slide into the passenger’s. It doesn’t seem to be a question that you’re coming with her. 

“I know you don’t really want to talk about what happens next for us,” you say quietly, needing to get some things off your chest. “We don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But just know that I’m not going to do what he did, or throw you away like that. I really like you, Agatha. And if it’s just like this for however long this lasts, I’m okay with that. I just want you.” 

Her eyes stay on the road and her lips purse, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she won’t. 

But then her hand slips down across the center console and interlocks her fingers with yours and she squeezes. You can see the hint of a smile ghosting her face. 

You squeeze back. That’s all the answer you need. 

[cybrasigilism]

how dae-ho would act like if he had a crush on reader and how he’d ask them out

this is too cute! i desperately need to write for dae-ho more, he’s just such a sweetheart i fear :>

Crush Headcanons! (Player 388/Kang Dae-ho Headcanons)

warning: no smut! | lowercase intended | not proofread! | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own :)

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

A/N: this is a mix of headcanons + drabble but i hope thats alright it’s nice to take a break from smut every now and again :) i’ve got lots of dae-ho in my requests so i’ll try my best to feed you all .3. of course, i hope you enjoy!

   ────  ☽⃝ ────

⟢ the moment he first took notice of you as everyone was getting their photos taken for the games, he was completely starstruck. from that point forward, dae-ho found his eyes being drawn to you wherever you guys were

⟢ he felt a new sense of urgency to make sure you lived throughout these games, after red light green light he made a vow with himself to ensure you were protected at all costs. he was quick to introduce himself post the first game, and you guys were fast friends.

⟢ he’s not the type to be insecure or jealous when he sees you interacting with the other men inbetween games. there was few men you did talk to anyways, seeing as most of them either got on your nerves or intimidated you way too much. however, he did find himself a tiny bit jealous when he saw how easily you got along with the other guys in his group

⟢ you didn’t end up making it on dae-ho’s team for the six legged pentathlon, but he did his best to calm your nerves before the game started up. he promised he would cheer you on and that he definitely did. he definitely lit up when you ran up to him afterwards, going on about how worried you were about him after you left

⟢ he 100% would share his food with you, especially if he noticed you were particularly shaken up after a game

⟢ adding onto the last piece, dae-ho will also definitely try to cheer you up after the games

⟢ i think he would definitely hold off on asking you out, especially during such a high stakes situation as the squid games. at some point later on, when you guys are closer, you two will promise to see more of each other once the games are finished.

⟢ although dae-ho certainly isn’t one to start a fight, he will put himself between you and any unruly players who try to start something with you. he doesn’t have any trouble putting someone in their place if he feels you would be in any sort of danger

⟢ insisted that you slept with his group during lights out, so he could watch over you and be certain on your safety when you were sleeping

⟢ 100% hugs you tightly after the mingle game, especially if you two got separated. you could tell he didn’t want to let you go at this point, as he was definitely worried that you didn’t make it into a group before the time ran out

⟢ will for sure ask you all about your life before the games, and even about what you’ll do with the prize money when you guys get out

────  ☽⃝ ────

apologies for the less headcanons this time around! i saw more opportunities for small drabbles between the headcanons and i had to seize it! i had a lot of fun writing this out, and i hope you guys all had just as much fun reading it! as always any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested

have a splendid day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @agorsnotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[niilue]

haii! can i request gojo + feminization + oral fixation + male reader?? thank you! 🩷

— gojo satoru • jujutsu kaisen —

cw: dom reader, male reader, sub gojo, feminization, oral fixation

niilue’s 3k event

“come on, satoru… show me how pretty you look.”

gojo’s cheeks were flushed pink, a stark contrast to the pale blue lace panties stretched snug across his hips. the matching garter straps clung to his thighs, accentuating every inch of his long legs. his usual cocky grin was gone, replaced with something softer — something desperate.

he was already on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching as he glanced up at you from under his snowy bangs. his lips, usually quick with teasing remarks, now trembled slightly, parted just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his pink tongue.

“you’re quiet,” you murmured, stepping closer. your fingers brushed over his jaw, tilting his chin up so his ocean-blue eyes met yours. “what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?”

gojo swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between your face and the obvious bulge pressing against your pants. he licked his lips without even realizing it — that pretty, pouty mouth of his already working in ways he didn’t even need to think about.

“you want something, don’t you?”

his nod was immediate, but his voice was barely above a whisper. “please…”

“please, what?”

a whine slipped past his lips as he shifted on his knees, the garters digging into his skin with every movement. he looked wrecked already, just from your presence, his usual bravado stripped away the moment he put on the lace.

“want… want it in my mouth,” he whispered, voice trembling with need.

“of course you do.”

you let out a soft chuckle, tracing your thumb along his lower lip. he sucked it in without hesitation, his eyes fluttering shut as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking gently. the way his tongue swirled around your thumb was obscene — slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second of having something between his lips.

“such a good little thing,” you murmured, watching how his lashes fluttered with every movement. “you love having your mouth full, don’t you?”

gojo whimpered around your thumb, nodding as his hips twitched involuntarily. you could see the bulge straining against the lace panties, a wet patch already forming at the front. he was completely gone — needy, desperate, falling apart just from this.

pulling your thumb from his mouth with a soft pop, you ran your fingers through his hair, gripping it just enough to make him gasp.

“open.”

his mouth fell open immediately, tongue out, eyes wide and glassy as he stared up at you. the sight was almost too much — gojo satoru, the strongest, kneeling at your feet, dressed up like your personal plaything, ready to take whatever you gave him.

“good boy,” you whispered, undoing your belt. “now, be sweet and keep sucking until i tell you to stop.”

and as your cock pressed past his lips, gojo moaned, his lashes fluttering again as he eagerly took you in, losing himself completely to the warmth, the weight, the taste.

word count: 490

[mayakern]

A Note From Our Founder (and some other things)/ The World's Longest Newsletter

Hey, y’all. The past week has brought us a lot of extremes: first the fear, horror, shame and despair as we realized just how dire the business’ financial situation was… and then relief, gratitude, hope, joy—so many overwhelming feelings I don’t even have the words for them all. Y’all showed up for us in a big way and I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for that. Many of you have followed the store for years. You’ve watched as it’s grown—bloomed—and seen me do the same, as for better or worse, my identity and the business’ are so closely intertwined. So much of my life is invested in this little indie clothing brand that the prospect of it hurtling towards failure made me feel like I, too, was hurtling towards failure. But you all showed up and helped us avoid a huge crisis and for that I cannot even begin to say how thankful I am. How thankful we all are. Not only did sales rise to meet our crisis, but you showed us such an overwhelming amount of kindness—sharing our store on social media and with friends, offering us words of encouragement, telling us just how much you love our clothing and how much it has meant to you—that will touch me forever. We’re not quite out of the woods yet—our immediate payroll concerns have been addressed, but we’ll still have to get a bit scrappy and roll with the punches for the next few months, if not longer. But thanks to all of you, now our problems look solvable and not like unavoidable catastrophes. Thank you. Maya Founder/Co-Owner Maya Kern LLC

In case you haven’t heard, we’re still running our sale—almost everything in our store, including garments that were already put on clearance, are 20-50% off. Many items are being sold at or below the amount we paid to make them to help us recoup some of our production costs. Some of our buttery soft viscose shirts are as cheap as $9 right now! This sale will be ending Sunday night at midnight US central time, so don’t miss it!

Also, we heard from y’all that our store’s auto region detection was buggy as heck, so for your convenience we’ve added a “Store Location” drop down to the top of our store page. Many of our items are already sold out in the US, but some of those sold out garments are still in stock in Canada.

We’ve heard y’all loud and clear—many of y’all have asked us when our petticoats will return and have also suggested that we run some preorders to help us secure funds for production. So from January 16th at 12pm Central to January 30th at 12pm central, we’ll be running preorders for our much loved petticoats! For those of you unfamiliar with our petticoats, they are a lightweight, sensory friendly under layer that adds the perfect amount of volume under our midi skirts. While many petticoats cut corners by either offering only a limited size range or by stacking layer upon layer of scratchy, flimsy tulle to create the desired volume while growing heavier with every added layer, our petticoats use fewer layers of a stiffer, higher quality tulle that maintains its volume under the weight of a skirt. Because all tulle regardless of quality can be quite scratchy, we also added a satin slip as the base layer of our petticoats to make sure that they are sensory friendly and non-irritating.

This time they’ll be available in classic black and lovely blush. We’ll also be offering a small discount to anyone who buys a petticoat during preorders. (Please keep in mind that the blush petticoat photos are mockups and so the final color may be slightly different)

And lastly, if you’ve made it this far, we have some production news! I could not be happier about how much y’all have loved the cozy matcha set—they’re already sold out in the US (tho our Canada store still has a few left!). Creating this loungewear set has been on my bucket list for so long and I am ecstatic that y’all share my love for them. Thanks to how good the sales have been, we’ve been able to plan more cozy sets for later this year, even though they are quite expensive to make. First up will be a spring/summer version with short sleeves and shorts. These will have a different, less warm interior but will still be made of 100% cotton.

I have some ideas rolling around for a new cozy set or two for the end of 2025, but I’ll just let y’all stay curious about that. In truth I am so excited about the next winter concept that I can hardly bear to keep the secret, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

Thanks so much for reading and have a great rest of your day!

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

series masterlist

Summary: If Spencer thought being secretly in love with you was hard, having to avoid you in the hallway was even worse.

Words: 4,8k.

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of jail. painter!reader. post prison reid. spencer’s pov. lack of communication. the reader has a cat. angst, so much angst. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I struggled a lot writing this because it's a roller coaster, so sorry in advance.

“How long? It's not a problem to take care of everything, but I'd like to know if you'll be okay or—” Your voice almost cracked for a moment, your eyes still trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. Spencer's sheets were still wrapped around your body, and you felt so connected to them that the thought of getting up while still watching him toss and turn looking for his shoes was too much.

“I don't think more than a day or two, I'll be fine.” He stopped his chaotic steps for a second and stared at you as if to make a promise. He paused, glancing away as if to compose himself before adding, “I have some work in Mexico. It came up last minute, or I’d have told you earlier.” His voice faltered, almost imperceptibly, and the words sounded rehearsed, like he was repeating something he’d practiced.

You frowned slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “Work in Mexico?” you echoed. “Since when do they send you out of the country for cases?”

“It’s not that kind of work,” he said quickly, his tone just a little too smooth, a little too practiced. “It’s…consulting. A conference on forensic advancements, some behavioral workshops—things like that.” He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke, as if afraid to meet your eyes. “I won’t be gone long.”

You didn’t question him further. Why would you? Spencer wasn’t the type to lie, and the way his brows knit together, the way his voice softened with the promise, “I’ll be back soon,” made you believe him. But something about the way he shifted his weight, the way he avoided looking directly at you, left a faint unease in your chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have dinner with you yesterday. And breakfast now. I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to fill the silence.

You tightened the sheets around yourself, curling into their warmth, feeling the lingering heat from the side of the bed where he had been only moments before. It felt like he had never really left, the space around you still filled with the faint echo of his presence. Watching him now, his movements a little frantic, his gaze flickering toward the clock every so often, made you feel like he was slipping away too quickly. A part of you, small and selfish, wanted to ask him to stay. To sit back down, to let the world and his trip wait just a little longer.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you whispered, barely above a breath, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment, “Promise?”

Spencer’s gaze softened even further, a tenderness washing over his features as he moved closer to you. His lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite touch his eyes but was filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Promise,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle, as though sealing a pact between the two of you. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing your forehead before his lips followed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your skin. The kiss was tender, quiet, and almost reluctant, as though he didn’t want to pull away from this moment either. For a moment, his forehead rested against yours, the space between you vanishing entirely. It felt like the world had narrowed to just this—just the two of you—and all the invisible lines you had drawn between friendship and something more blurred into nothing.

But before you could do something stupid, he pulled back, with his eyes lingering on you, still filled with a softness that made your heart flutter. “Have you seen my shoe?” he asked, his voice playful yet tinged with the usual frustration of his misplaced belongings.

You let out a small laugh, still wrapped in the sheets, the warmth from them mingling with the warmth of the moment. “Oh, you’re a mess, little boy,” you teased, your voice light and affectionate, the fondness for him slipping out in every word.

“Mittens take it again?” Spencer asked, his eyes glinting with playful exasperation. He had grown accustomed to your cat’s antics, and he could hardly be surprised at this point.

You nodded, grinning as you pointed to the underside of the bed. “Ding ding, genius,” you replied, your voice light and teasing as his gaze followed your finger. Sure enough, there it was, tucked under the bed—another casualty of your mischievous cat’s nightly adventures.

He grumbled good-naturedly, but a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if the chaos of the morning didn't matter when you were here with him and everything felt so domestic. As he bent down to pick up his shoe, you couldn't help but watch, your heart swelling at the sight of the man you were so in love with, even in his messiest moments. There was something about him—something in that moment—that made him feel so good, as if everything else could wait and the obvious fact that he didn't feel the same way about you didn't matter. Anyone outside the room generally didn't matter. For now, it was just the two of you, tangled in sheets and laughter, clinging to a piece of time that was all yours and would be the only thing you'd have left when he was gone.

“She loves you, that’s why she does it…I guess she wants your attention,” you said, your voice trailing off, and the taste of the words felt sour in your mouth. It sounded too much like you were talking about yourself rather than your pet, and the realization hit you like a cold wave. It made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain, and you immediately wished you could take the words back. But you didn’t.

He glanced at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I read something about that,” he said, his voice light, but you could tell he didn’t entirely understand the weight behind your words. It didn’t matter. You were used to it by now.

“You read about everything.” You gave him a small, rueful smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, the bitterness of the moment creeping into your voice. You were fine with it, you told yourself. Fine with everything.

He glanced at the clock, a quiet sigh escaping him. “I have to go…it’s late,” he said, and you could hear the quiet resignation in his voice. The moment, it seemed, had reached its inevitable end.

“Okay.” The word slipped out of your mouth more dryly than you intended, and you hated the way it sounded. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want the moment to end. But it was already slipping away, and you knew it. “But before you go…come here.”

He hesitated, looking at you with uncertainty in his eyes. But then, slowly, he took a step toward you, his face softening when you reached out to touch his cheek. The moment your fingers brushed against his skin, he shivered, and your heart skipped a beat at the contact.

“Is…is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if sensing the shift between you.

“No, I just want to say goodbye properly.” You shifted closer, your heart hammering as you moved toward him, your lips hovering near his. The temptation to close the distance, to kiss him, burned inside you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“Take care and come back,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you meant. You kissed his forehead gently, your fingers instinctively smoothing his hair down as you did. “Now it’s like you have my blessing,” you added with a faint smile.

He smiled at you, the warmth in his expression a bittersweet thing that made your heart ache. “Thank you, and good luck tomorrow with my godchildren’s.” His voice was soft, but the moment was already passing, slipping away, and with it, the space between you both. He gathered his things, gave you one last lingering look, and then turned toward the door.

You stood there, watching him go, the weight of what you didn’t say crashing down on you. The door clicked shut behind him, and you felt a hollow ache in your chest, a longing you couldn’t quite name.

God, you really wanted kissed him.

God, he really wanted you kissed him.

When Spencer opened his eyes for the first time in a cell and felt a sickening jolt of disorientation. The dirty walls and a rickety bench stared back at him, mocking the comforting image of his organized room and, more painfully, the thought of you. The absence of your laughter, your touch, your presence—everything that had once grounded him—hit him like a freight train. He knew something was wrong.

As the days blurred together and the evidence piled against him, he clung to the belief that this nightmare wasn’t real. Every hearing, every damning piece of evidence that chipped away at his freedom, felt surreal. Even when the judge handed down his sentence, condemning him to months behind bars, the finality of it didn’t register. What shattered him was the moment he filled out his visitation schedule and consciously omitted your name. He hadn’t wanted you to see him like that. He didn’t ask anyone to explain, didn’t try to soften the blow of his absence. That, he thought, was the point of no return—the moment he lost everything.

But Spencer was so wrong. The true breaking point came when he walked out of that hellhole, finally free, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. Each step was a physical ache, the pain in his chest sharper and heavier with every step. His hands trembled as he reached for his keys, the jangling sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. His gaze fell on your door, just a few steps away. The familiar sight sent his stomach into knots.

For the first time, he wished you wouldn’t be there.

The thought was alien, unnatural. You had always been there, and he had always wanted you there. When he was too drained to cook, you’d suggest their usual coffee spot, your smile lighting up the grayest of mornings. When his back ached from long nights bent over case files, you’d massage his shoulders, insisting scented candles could fix his bad posture and his bad days. When his mother’s health took a downturn, and he felt his world crumbling, you’d hold him, stroke his back, and promise that everything would be okay. And when his social battery was drained at reunions, you’d step in with your bad jokes or your art facts, making the world feel manageable again.

Now, standing in front of his own door, his fingers clumsy with the lock, all he could hope for was silence. He didn’t know how to face you, didn’t know if he could explain the broken pieces of himself.

His door creaked open, and he was greeted by the familiar scent of the home he had only dreamed of for the last while. It was overwhelming: clean clothes, slightly sweet candles, and something undeniably yours. The apartment was exactly as he remembered it, as if time had stopped the moment he left three months ago and never returned until now. His heart shrank as he took it all in: the blanket you insisted on leaving on the couch, the pile of books you always meant to return to his library but never did, his fish swimming around as if nothing had happened, and even the plants by the window, thriving despite his absence because you had surely watered them without fail.

And then there were the little details, things that told him that you had not moved away from this place, from him. The plate you always left for his cup of coffee, the one you gave him last Christmas, was still on the counter. His favorite cardigan, the one he thought he had misplaced, was folded neatly on the back of the chair and smelled of the baby softener you liked to use. His books were exactly where he had left them, although one of them had a bookmark you had made, a telltale sign that he had read it and was waiting for him to come back to comment on it, as you always did.

But he hadn’t returned.

Not then. And maybe not now at all.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket rang, its shrill tone slicing through the heavy silence like a sharp reminder of reality. The vibration against his skin startled him, his body tensing as he pulled the device out. His gaze flickered down to the screen, and the name that appeared caused a knot to form in his stomach: JJ. His thumb hovered over the screen, his mind racing, unsure if he was ready for the conversation he knew would follow. But deep down, he knew there was no avoiding her. Jennifer wouldn’t let him slip away unnoticed, and if he didn’t answer, she might show up at his door, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he had.

With a resigned sigh, he swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Is everything okay?”

The concern in his own voice surprised him. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe he was just desperate to shift the focus away from himself.

“Everything’s fine,” JJ replied, her voice steady but laced with something deeper. “I just wanted to check in. You’ve been…quiet.”

He exhaled slowly, staring out the window, the city lights stretching before him and the memories cutting deep. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “Just trying to catch up on things. All good here.”

“Okay,” she said softly, and there was a pause—a hesitation that made his pulse quicken. He could almost hear her thinking, weighing her next words. Then she cleared her throat, the sound small but deliberate. “Have you seen…her?”

The question hit him like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. He turned away from the window abruptly, pacing the length of the apartment as if motion could somehow ease the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest. “No,” he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw clenched, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I don’t know if I want to.”

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. How could he say that when every thought of you still made his heart ache? When the idea of you haunted him, so vivid and constant it felt like you were in every shadow of his empty apartment?

Jennifer’s sigh crackled over the line, heavy and filled with the weight of unspoken truths. “She’s been asking about you,” she said softly, her voice tinged with that unshakable sadness she tried so hard to hide. “Every time I see her. I think…” She hesitated again, and Spencer could hear her swallow hard, choosing her next words carefully. “I think you owe her an explanation.”

He swallowed saliva and tightened his fingers around the phone. JJ was right, of course. She always had been. But the idea of facing you, of trying to explain everything without drowning in tears, seemed impossible. How could he tell you the truth? How could he look you in the eye and admit that he had spent the last three months in jail, paying for a crime he had not committed? That he had done things that he deeply regretted, that made him sick and a horrible person?

You deserved better. You always had.

You were a blessing to anyone who had you around, and he knew that better than anyone. That's why he recommended you as a babysitter for JJ's kids, that's why he insisted that you come out to the bar with him and the team several times, that's why he told his mother about you, and that's why he gave you unlimited access to every single part of his life and told you things he'd never told anyone else. You were the one he thought of during those long, sleepless nights behind bars when JJ brought drawings from her boys. He imagined you there with them, sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping Henry with his homework or letting Michael pile blocks on your lap. It was silly—heartbreaking, even—but the thought of you, of your warmth and your kindness, had kept him going.

“I have to go…clean some things,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, so desperate to run away from the topic.

“Okay,” JJ replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “Tell me if you need anything.”

Before Spencer could find the strength to speak, the line fell silent. The hum of the apartment filled the space around him, oppressive in its quiet, and he stood there, phone still clenched in his hand. The weight of it, the weight of everything, settled deeper into his chest, making it hard to breathe. He stared at the counter as if it could offer him some sort of escape from the quiet agony that had overtaken him. With a long exhale, he dropped the phone, his fingers lingering on it for a second longer than necessary, before pulling away with a heavy sense of finality.

Just as he was about to move, his mind already drowning in the whirlpool of thoughts he was so desperate to escape, a soft, muted thud broke the oppressive stillness of the apartment. The noise was faint, almost imperceptible, but in the suffocating quiet, it reverberated like a crack of thunder. His breath caught, his heart skipping a beat as his body went rigid. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the sound, his eyes locking onto the open balcony door.

A sleek black shape emerged from the shadows, moving with a practiced elegance that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. Mittens.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking on the single syllable, hoarse and unsteady as if even addressing his might shatter the fragile thread of control he was clinging to.

The cat paused for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if considering him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. Then, without a second thought, she padded over, her steps confident and unhurried, the soft click of her claws against the floor the only sound in the room. She jumped lightly onto the couch, then onto the small table beside him, her movements fluid and practiced. As she reached him, Mittens sniffed his hand delicately, then nuzzled it gently, her warm, soft fur brushing against his fingertips. The familiar rumble of her purring filled the air, a soothing, almost hypnotic sound that cut through the tension and wrapped around him like a blanket.

Spencer let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the apartment. He hesitated, his fingers brushing the soft fur of her head, unable to stop himself from reaching out.

Mittens leaned into his touch, her purr intensifying as her little body pressed against his hand, seeking warmth, some affection. She didn't care about the months she hadn't seen him or just heard his name spoken a thousand times by you. To her, he was still Spencer, the same one who had fed her, played with her, and cared for her whenever he could. That was enough. She was very happy.

“You still remember me,” he murmured, a faint, fragile smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like an eternity.

The cat blinked up at him, her green eyes half-lidded with contentment, as if to say, Of course I do.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his hand resting on her soft fur, letting her purring fill the empty spaces inside him. It was such a small thing, her presence, but it reminded him of you—of the life he’d left behind, the warmth he hadn’t realized he’d needed so desperately until now.

But the calm didn’t last, and Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he heard a soft knock on the door. His gaze snapped up from the cat, who was now lazily sprawled across the arm of the couch, her purring uninterrupted. The knock came again, this time paired with a voice that sent a jolt through his chest.

“Mittens?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but he knew it instantly. It was you.

Another knock followed, gentle but insistent. “Are you here, baby?”

He froze, every muscle in his body tightening as he registered the sound of your voice. You were here, in his apartment—or at least on the threshold of it. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to see you again.

The cat, oblivious to the tension that suddenly filled the room, stretched lazily before hopping down from the couch. Her tail flicked behind her as she padded toward the door, her movements casual, as if she belonged here. Her eyes were fixed on you as you stepped through the open door, your figure partially silhouetted by the light from the outside.

“There you are,” you said softly, your voice brimming with relief. The warmth in your tone hit him like a physical blow, and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sound threatening to escape.

You crouched down to scoop the cat into your arms, your movements gentle and practiced. “You scared me,” you murmured, cradling her against your chest. Your voice softened, carrying that familiar tenderness he’d missed so desperately. “You’ve been running off so much lately.”

Spencer pressed himself against the shadowed wall, willing himself to disappear. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at you for fear his body might betray him. The apartment was dark enough to hide him, but he knew the signs of his presence were everywhere—his phone abandoned on the counter, the faint indentation on the couch, the way the air seemed to shift with the weight of him being there.

You didn’t notice. Your focus was entirely on Mittens as you stroked her soft fur, your touch so gentle it made Spencer ache. “I know you miss him,” you murmured, the words falling from your lips so quietly they almost didn’t reach him. “I do too.”

The confession tore through him like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. His chest tightened, and he bit down hard on his lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

You lingered for a moment, your gaze sweeping over the apartment as if you could feel his presence, even if you didn’t see him. Then, with a soft sigh, you turned back toward the door.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Mittens’ head before stepping into the night.

The door closed with a quiet click, and Spencer was left alone once more. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his hand trembling as it pressed against his face. The silence was deafening, a hollow, aching void that swallowed him whole.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe fate didn’t want you to see him again—at least, not yet.

But then, the next morning, it happened.

You were returning to your apartment, groceries in hand, when you saw him.

He was standing at the end of the hallway with his back to you, as if he was leaving his apartment. As soon as you saw him, your heart skipped a beat and all your rational thoughts vanished. It seemed like an eternity since you had seen him, even though it had only been a few months. Your first instinct was to run to him, throw yourself into his arms, and demand an explanation, but something about his posture made you hesitate. He was stiff, distant, almost sad. His usual warmth was nowhere to be seen. And yet there was something different about him: his long hair, now a bit wilder and more unruly, framed his face in a way you had never seen before. Some curls fell over his eyes, and his beard had grown thicker and darker. The change in his appearance was shocking.

Without thinking, you dropped your groceries at your door and hurried toward him. “Spencer!” you called, your voice trembling with a rush of emotions you had bottled up for months.

He turned slowly, and for a split second, his eyes locked with yours. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, maybe guilt, but it quickly faded, replaced by a cool distance you had never seen in him before, at least not with you. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. It was instinct, more than anything, to wrap your arms around him like you always used to do. The warmth of his body felt like home, like everything you had missed was right there in your arms. You held on tightly, breathing him in as if this would somehow make up for the absence. You’d been so lonely without him, and this, just holding him again, felt like it would fix everything that has been wrong lately.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t move an inch. This time his body was rigid, unyielding, as if he didn’t feel you or want you around. He did not return your hug. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge it or really want it. His arms remained stiff at his sides, and you could feel his breath hitching against your neck, but he didn’t respond. It was like hugging a stranger, someone you once knew but no longer recognized.

“God, I missed you…” You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was unreadable. His long hair now brushed against the collar of his shirt, the unruly beard framing his jawline. But his eyes were the only thing that stayed the same—cold and distant, void of the tenderness they once held. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer immediately. The silence hung between you, thick and oppressive, before he finally spoke, his voice flat. “Sorry, I…I don’t think I’m the best person for that right now.”

Your heart sank, the warmth of the hug and reunion evaporating into a hollow chill. “What happened?” you whispered, feeling the pain creep into your voice. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you say anything? I was so worried for you and JJ don’t say so much.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look like Spencer, not the one you had known—kind, warm, and always ready to offer comfort. His face was hard, closed off, and distant. He seemed…different, almost cold. “I’m sorry, I needed to get to…work,” he said, his voice clipped and curt. “I didn’t think you’d be awake at this hour.”

You felt a pang of confusion and hurt at his words. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to see me? You haven’t been here in months,” you said, the bitterness creeping into your voice. “You just disappear, and then you show up here, like nothing happened? You sleep here? I came to your apartment last night, and you weren’t there.”

He didn’t react. No apology, no acknowledgment of the pain he’d caused. He just stood there, cold, distant. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words almost sounding like an afterthought. “I had work to do. It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “That’s all you’ve got after disappearing for three months?”

Finally, his eyes met yours again, but there was no warmth in them. No tenderness, no familiarity. His gaze was hard, as cold as his words. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said sharply, his tone final, cutting through the air like a knife.

It felt like a punch to the gut. The warmth that had once filled your heart whenever Spencer entered a room, the gentle care he had shown you, was now replaced by something colder. It was as if the person you had known—the person who had been your friend, your confidant—had vanished along with the man who used to leave you sweet notes and show up with your favorite food after a rough day.

“You…you don’t owe me anything?” you whispered, your heart breaking with each word.

The silence stretched between you again, suffocating. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry.”

But it was hollow, empty. A formality. Not an apology that meant anything.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned, walking away. “I have to go,” he said, his voice softer now, but still detached.

Before you could say anything else, he turned, leaving as quickly as he had appeared. And just like that, he was gone again—leaving you alone with the deafening silence and a heart full of questions.

Just like your worst fear: Spencer was avoiding you in the hallway.

[vyliez]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why'd you only call me when you're high?

pairings: se-mi x fem!reader

synopsis: se-mi is fucking high.

warnings: none, some suggestive content but ykw, hell yea!

a/n: wrote this on an airplane while listening to arctic monkeys because their songs elevate me to the heavens. also this is my first fic in this account, i'm tryna get back to writing again!

3:07 a.m.

the constant ringing of your phone woke you up from sleep. "what the fuck?" you muttered to yourself sleepily, grabbing your phone from the darkness, flinching slightly at the glare of your phone's brightness as her name blared on your phone screen. you sigh to yourself. what is it now?

"se-mi?" you asked, picking up. there was a small silence on the other line before a crackle and a couple of mumbled incoherent words.

"babyyyy, i missed you,"

oh you knew this tone too well.

you and se-mi weren't dating. but also not just friends. it was more of a casual situationship. or fuck buddies? you didn't know to be honest. but you knew why she'd phone you. she wanted some relief or she's high. but apparently, tonight she was both after sharing a smoke with that 'bastard motherfucker' as you call him—thanos.

"are you high?" you asked amusedly, pulling the covers towards you tightly, holding the phone in one hand.

"whatttt? nooo?" se-mi replies, scoffing in the other line. she was definitely high. "i feel like floating though..." she trails off.

you sigh tiredly, rubbing your eyes sleepily. "go to sleep se-mi, i'm tired," you groan as you hung up.

"wait—no! no! n—!" she says frantically, trying to keep you in the line but it was already too late, all she heard was beeping.

you opened your phone to see fifteen missed calls and a shit ton of messages from her. "gods, se-mi," you mutter to yourself as you browsed through her messages.

se-mi:

babyyy, i'm so sorryyy ☹️☹️☹️

please reply ☹️

i know you're reading this, i can literally see your status

pleaaaaseee just tonight and i won't bother you again ☹️

i miss you

plsplsplspls

you sighed at the recent messages, looking at the bubble, watching the three dots jump up and down as se-mi typed another message.

se-mi:

okay maybe not the last time but ykwim

pleaaaseee i'll do anything

i rlly miss you sm ☹️

you tried to fight the smile creeping up on your face as you read her yearnings. you took a deep breath, rubbing a hand through your face as you contemplated your decisions.

you:

why'd you only call me when you're high?

se-mi:

hi?

you snorted at the response, unable to stop the grin forming on your face. you watched as she kept spamming you, mostly sending stuff word by word.

se-mi:

please

i will

literally

die here

her persistence made you give up, sighing as you typed out your response. you knew the end to this but you know what? hell yeah.

you:

fine.

se-mi:

YES???

YIPPEE

LET'S GOOO

I'M OMW PRINCESS 🫡🫡🫡

you smiled, finding her reaction endearing as you watched the typing bubble and her online status disappear.

and just like a flash, se-mi comes up to your door, knocking. you got out of bed and walked towards the front door, opening it to reveal se-mi. she was wearing that stupid shit eating grin again as she greeted you. her piercings glinted against the dim lights, she adjusted her wrinkled leather jacket as she shifted her weight from one foot to another.

"hi," se-mi greets you giddily before crashing her lips against yours. you yelped against her mouth, your hands instinctively snaking towards her shoulder as you responded to her fervent kiss. se-mi slammed the door with her foot, pushing you further into your apartment, kissing you so fiercely that had you almost toppling backward the coffee table. she pushed you towards the couch, straddling you as she trapped you beneath it.

"fuck... love you so much baby," se-mi mumbles against your lips, panting heavily as her lips traced a trail down towards your neck. you moaned out softly, your hands burying in the tresses of her hair. groaning, you tugged on her hair—wait.

you visibly freezed, realizing se-mi's words. love? it seems as though she noticed you as she lifted her head from you neck, looking up at you widely, making her look like a cat for some reason. "what is it baby? why? what's happened?" she mumbled softly, resting her chin on the flesh of your boobs.

"n-nothing i-..." you breathed out shakily, your breathing still ragged. "it's nothing," you whispered, shaking your head as you cupped her face and kissed her again, succumbing back to pleasure. you didn't know if it was the drugs that made se-mi high or she just didn't believe you but said nothing anyways, but you were grateful she didn't question it anyways.

as her hands fumbled to remove the flimsy shirt you had on, you couldn't help but wonder. was she just a regular fuck? did she really love you? why'd she only ever call you when she's high?

because fuck—everything about her is like a drug that you wouldn't even hesitate to get high to.