#i think this was just at the front of my mind since i just watched the prince of egypt last sunday lol

[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 💗💤

[charmedimsure]

uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun

anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader

summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd

A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it

**this can be read as romantic or platonic**

You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.

"Sergeant?"

Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.

"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"

"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."

You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.

"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.

You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."

She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."

You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."

<>

You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.

You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.

While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.

Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.

"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."

Shit.

Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"

As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.

<>

"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."

Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."

"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."

The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."

"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.

Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."

"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.

"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."

"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."

"I agree," Player 145 adds.

"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.

"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."

"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."

Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"

Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."

It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"

Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."

You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.

"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."

"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."

"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.

"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.

Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."

You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.

"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.

Gi-hun nods.

"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."

"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"

Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"

"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."

"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.

"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."

<>

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one."

The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.

You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.

There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.

The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.

You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.

You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.

You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.

You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.

You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"

The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.

Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.

"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.

You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.

"Retreat. Retreat."

The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.

"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.

Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.

"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.

"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."

Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.

Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"

You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.

"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.

You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.

<>

Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.

Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."

You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."

One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."

Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.

You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.

When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."

"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."

You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.

"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.

Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.

"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."

Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"

You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.

The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.

Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."

The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.

"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"

The guard just stares at him.

Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."

<>

"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."

Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"

You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.

"Cover me!"

You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.

When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.

As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"

The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."

Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"

"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.

"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.

You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.

You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.

You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.

A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.

"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.

You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.

"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.

"Go ahead!" Young-il says.

"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."

"We're running out of ammo, too!"

"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.

"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"

Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.

"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"

"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."

"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.

"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.

"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."

Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"

You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.

"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"

You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."

"Alright! We're counting on you!"

You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.

You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.

"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"

"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"

You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.

Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.

Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.

"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.

He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.

Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.

You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.

"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"

Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.

"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.

You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.

Never leave a man behind.

Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."

You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.

Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."

He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.

After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.

"What happened?"

Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.

You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.

Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"You can't die like this."

You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.

As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5

[ye4gerz]

my game, your rules. — ldh part three (FINAL)

‧˚⭒ pairing: lee donghyuck x afab reader 18+MDNI ‧˚⭒ genre: brothers best friend au! fake dating! friends to lovers! humor! fluff! angst! smut! adult life au! jenos sister! flirty hc! ‧˚⭒ word count: 11k+ ‧˚⭒ cw: the beginning part is mostly angst, sorry! smut towards the end. dirty talking, raw sex, choking, etc. drinking, mentions of jaehyun, dom hc. ‧˚⭒ summary: you’re fed up with your family constantly telling you how to live your life, but what would they think if you showed up with your brother’s best friend as your new boyfriend? even worse—what happens when you realize you’re actually falling for him?

‧˚⭒ a/n: thank you for the wait everyone! i realized due to my personal life being so busy sometimes, i’m prob better off sticking to long one shots lmao. sorry i had to end it short at three parts. i'll be working on another one shot soon, thank you to everyone who engaged with the series, enjoy! (ignore any grammatical errors if any)

previous

It was one thing to pretend to be with your brother’s best friend, and another to actually be with your brother’s best friend, but what do you call it when the best friend you’re fake dating starts to feel… real?

You guessed it was whatever complicated, undefined thing you had going on with Haechan right now.

It had been several nights since the first time you’d slept together, and somehow, it had slipped into your routine without much discussion. Every evening, he was there—waiting outside your job to pick you up, a sly grin on his face as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Days and nights repeated like clockwork, neither of you acknowledging the shift, as if naming it would make it too real. Instead, you both just… enjoyed it.

“Fine, we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Your own words replayed in your mind endlessly, and you found yourself wishing they had been a promise instead of an empty phrase, left to dissolve into the early hours of the day.

Yet, even without a label, you couldn’t deny the effect he had on you. Your stress was melting away bit by bit, the weight of work no longer consuming you like it used to. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were beginning to understand the elusive concept of a work-life balance.

As you stood in front of the mirror, your gaze traveled over your reflection. Love bites peppered your skin, faint but impossible to ignore. Each one held a memory, moments you couldn’t help but replay in your head. You smiled softly, warmth spreading through you at the thought of him.

You missed him already.

“What’s taking so long?” Karina’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, followed by a series of impatient knocks on the bathroom door.

“Sorry!” you called back, hurriedly finishing your last-minute outfit adjustments. “I’m coming out now!”

Tonight was girls night—a night you’d promised yourself would be nothing but fun, but as you opened the door and met Karina’s scrutinizing gaze, you couldn’t help but wonder how much of the night your thoughts would linger on Haechan.

“Impatient much?” you teased Karina as you slipped on your earrings.

“It’s been forever since it’s just been the two of us,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “I swear, I should sue Haechan for stealing you away from me.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “No need to worry. Tomorrow’s the night he meets my family, and soon after, our ‘relationship’”—you emphasized with air quotes—“will officially be over. I get my peace, and they get to meet someone who isn’t you for once.”

Karina leaned against the doorframe, her sharp gaze raking over you like she was trying to read between the lines. “You’re not convincing me,” she said, raising a brow. “Do you think you can hide those marks? Please, you two are so deep in denial it’s almost painful to watch.”

Her words hit like a sucker punch, and you fumbled for a response. It had nothing to do with your best friend, but all with the fact that Haechan has been a bit distant today. You didn’t want to flood your thoughts with worry, but the intensity of your underlying feelings were too much to ignore. Instead of addressing the comment, you busied yourself with adjusting the strap on your heels, your eyes glued to the floor. “Like I said, it’ll be ending soon. Can we not talk about him right now?”

Karina frowned but didn’t push further, though her knowing expression didn’t go unnoticed.

Meanwhile, across town, Haechan sat on his couch, the glow of his phone illuminating his frustrated expression. He knew you were going out with Karina tonight—you’d told him—but something about it gnawed at him. He hadn’t responded to your last text, and even when he did, it took hours because every reply felt like walking a tightrope.

The thought of you at a club, surrounded by strangers, without him, it sent his mind spiraling. What if some guy tried something? Worse, what if you met someone—someone you actually liked—and decided to drop this whole fake relationship?

“Would that be cheating?” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Yes—no—shit.”

This wasn’t real. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself; every lingering glance, every stolen moment, and every kiss that left him breathless felt all too real. The weight of unspoken feelings hung between you both like a thread threatening to snap. He turned his phone off and on again, trying to distract himself, but the pull you had on him was intoxicating, inescapable.

Back at your apartment, Karina softened, rubbing your back in a gesture of comfort. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s not my place to bring up your love life. Let’s just go have fun tonight, okay? Who knows, maybe we’ll both go home with someone new.”

Her attempt to lighten the mood made you smile despite yourself. “Yeah, let’s just have fun,” you echoed, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.

Even as you walked out with Karina, a small part of you wondered if Haechan was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

Meanwhile, Haechan logged online with Jeno, hoping a few rounds of gaming would help clear his mind. However, playing with your brother, of all people, might not have been the smartest way to distract himself.

“So, are you nervous about tomorrow night?” Jeno asked as they waited for the game to load.

“Not really,” Haechan replied honestly. “I’ve met your parents before. They’re nice people.”

Jeno adjusted his mic. “Yeah, but you’ve met them as my friend. You’ve never met them as my sister’s boyfriend. Not to mention, it’s the first time she’s bringing someone home.”

Haechan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of Jeno’s words sinking in. The idea of meeting your parents in this new role suddenly felt a lot heavier than it had before.

He had pitched this whole fake dating idea to help you out, to make your life easier during a time when you needed it most. He’d told himself that was all it was. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t just that anymore. Somewhere along the way, the lies stopped feeling like lies.

The hand-holding wasn’t just for show. The playful teasing, the lingering touches, the way his chest tightened whenever you smiled at him—it had all become painfully real. With each passing day, the guilt of keeping this from Jeno gnawed at him more.

He thought back to one of the nights you’d slept over. You’d fallen asleep in his arms, your breathing soft and even, while he stayed awake, unable to tear his eyes away from you. His gaze had traced the curve of your cheek, the way your lashes fanned out against your skin. Without thinking, he’d leaned closer, pressing a ghost of a kiss to your hair.

This had become his new normal—holding you, being with you. Every time he thought about what came next, a deep ache settled in his chest. What if this all ended? What if he lost you?

“Hello? You good?” Jeno’s voice broke through his thoughts, dragging him back to the present.

“Yeah, my fault,” Haechan muttered, fumbling with his keyboard. “Um… yeah, I guess I am nervous— but you’ll be there too, so not much to worry about, right?”

“Exactly, bro,” Jeno said, his tone light. “You’ve got this. Now, focus up—I’m getting mobbed over here!”

Haechan managed a small laugh, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “On it,” he replied, diving into the game.

As the action picked up, his thoughts remained elsewhere. His grip tightened on the mouse, his chest heavy with the weight of his own emotions. This was going to be a long night.

Three shots in, and you were already feeling it. You’d never been one to hold your alcohol well. While you weren’t completely gone, you were definitely teetering on the edge of tipsy and drunk. The music thumped through the club, vibrating in your chest, and the dim lighting made it easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere.

“There’s my girl! Look at you having a good time!” Karina cheered, hyping you up as you squeezed the life out of a lemon wedge after your latest shot.

You coughed, shaking your head with a laugh. “I’m getting there, that’s for sure.”

Karina plopped down on the barstool beside you, resting her chin in her hand as she watched you with a fond expression. “Not to kill the buzz or anything, but do you think you’re ready to talk about what’s been weighing on you? I can tell you’ve got something on your chest, and you won’t fully let loose until you do.”

You hesitated, your eyes drifting to the crowd behind her. That’s when you spotted him—a man dressed clean and sharp, head to toe. His neatly parted black hair framed deep, unreadable eyes, and they were locked on you. Feeling a strange flutter of nerves, you quickly shook it off, turning back to Karina as you fidgeted with the rim of your shot glass.

“I guess it’s no secret that Haechan and I have been… kind of together? I don’t really know what to call it.” You sighed, glancing at her. “I mean, yeah, we’re supposed to be pretending, but lately, it’s felt a lot more serious. No matter how much we try to keep it casual, we just keep getting pulled toward each other— and sleeping together? That’s only made it worse.”

Karina’s brow arched slightly, but she stayed silent, letting you continue.

“I’m scared this is all Haechan wants,” you admitted, rubbing your temples. “What if I’m just something to pass the time? I’m too afraid to bring it up because if I’m wrong, and I read this all wrong… what then? What if I ruin everything, and he rejects me for real? That would be awkward as hell.”

Karina’s wide eyes softened, and she reached out to rub your back. “Wow. Yeah, that’s a lot to carry around. No wonder you’ve been so tense,” she said gently. “But listen, you’ve got to talk to him. Tell him exactly what you just told me. If it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know you tried—and hey, this whole thing has already benefited you in some ways, right? Don’t feel guilty for walking away if that’s what you decide to do. You’re not actually together, so you don’t owe anyone anything. You can do what’s best for you.”

Her words brought some comfort, and you smiled at her, feeling a flicker of gratitude. Before you could respond, the bartender approached, placing a tall margarita with a cherry on top in front of you.

“A gentleman paid for your drink and the next few shots for you two,” he explained.

“What the hell…” Karina whispered, scanning the room with wide eyes.

Your gaze followed hers until it landed on the same man from earlier. He was making his way toward you now, a confident stride and a charming smile revealing deep dimples.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted smoothly, his voice rich and warm.

“Well, hello, handsome,” Karina replied, nudging your leg under the bar as she batted her lashes.

His smile lingered, but his eyes moved to yours, the anticipation in them unmistakable. “I’m Jaehyun,” he introduced himself, “I just wanted to say you both look absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun! We appreciate that, don’t we?” Karina said, looking at you expectantly.

You hesitated before giving him your name, your voice quieter than you intended. His reaction caught you off guard—he took your hand and kissed it lightly. “Wonderful to meet you,” he said, his smile deepening. “I’ll let you get back to your conversation, but if you’d like to have a good time together, well—this is for you.”

As he walked off, Karina grabbed your arm. “Wow! Talk about dreamy! What did he give you?”

You unfolded the napkin he’d placed in your hand, already knowing what to expect. Inside was a neat scrawl: In case you need another shoulder to lean on ;) – J followed by his number.

You rolled your eyes. “Great. Just what I needed.”

Karina laughed, shaking her head. “If you’re not going to use it, you can pass it my way!”

“No way,” you said firmly. “I don’t need the reminder of this awkward interaction if you end up hooking up with him.” Stuffing the napkin into your purse, you resolved to toss it later.

“Fine, but that’s a major loss,” she teased. “How about this instead: we finish our free drinks, grab something sweet to eat, and call it a night?”

You smiled at her sincerity. “Sounds like a plan.”

The plan, however, turned out to be a little hazier than expected. Jaehyun had paid for more shots than you realized, and by the time you left the club, you and Karina were beyond tipsy, stumbling into an Uber together.

After dropping Karina off safely, you found yourself standing in front of Haechan’s building instead of your own. Buzzing his apartment repeatedly, you chuckled loudly into the intercom when his tired, slightly annoyed voice answered.

“May I ask who’s obliterating my buzzer at this hour?”

“It’s meeee!” you said through a fit of giggles.

There was a pause, and then the door buzzed open. Moments later, Haechan met you in the hallway, his arms crossed as he watched you nearly trip over your own feet.

“Someone had fun tonight, I see,” he teased, shaking his head as he walked over to steady you.

You clutched onto his shirt, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “Can’t have fun when I’m missing you so much,” you mumbled.

His teasing grin softened into something gentler, and he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you to his apartment. Once inside, he carefully sat you on the edge of his bed, rummaging through his drawers for some comfortable clothes for you to change into.

Haechan gently changed your clothes for you, his touch careful and deliberate. Using the makeup remover wipes you’d left at his place over the past few weeks, he softly cleaned your face, wary of being too rough as he worked around your features.

“Let me grab you some water, okay? Just get comfortable,” he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You nodded sleepily, sinking into the pillows as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Your gaze wandered across the room, catching the faint glow from his gaming monitor. A small smile tugged at your lips as you pictured him sitting there, completely immersed in a match, his focused expression etched in your memory. You reached toward the side table, expecting to find your phone, only to remember it was still in your purse.

“Hyuckieeee!” you called, raising your voice as much as your drunk tired state allowed. “Can you bring me my phone, pleaseeee? It’s in my purse!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he replied, his voice light and playful.

In the kitchen, Haechan grabbed a glass of water before reaching for your purse. As he rummaged through it to find your phone, a folded napkin clung to the device, slipping free and floating to the floor. He bent to pick it up, expecting it to be nothing—but then his eyes caught the scrawled handwriting.

In case you need another shoulder to lean on ;) – J xxx-xxx-xxxx.

His playful smile vanished instantly. It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. For a moment, he stood frozen, blinking at the napkin as though he could force the words to change.

Who the hell was J? Why did you have his number? And why the hell did he feel like the ground beneath him was starting to crumble?

“Hyuccccck!” your voice whined from the other room, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts.

His heart pounded as he shoved the napkin back into your purse, burying it as deep as he could. Grabbing your phone, he forced himself to compose his expression before walking back into the bedroom.

“Here,” he said, his voice a little too quiet as he handed you your phone and set the glass of water on the nightstand.

You barely noticed the change in his demeanor, already distracted as you unlocked your phone. Haechan, however, didn’t linger. He walked to his desk, muttered a quick goodnight to Jeno—completely ignoring whatever your brother was saying—and shut down his computer.

“W-Wait!” you called after him, frowning when you realized he was heading toward the door. “You’re not staying?”

He paused, his back to you. “You’ve had a long night, and tomorrow’s going to be even longer,” he said flatly, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “You need sleep, and I can’t afford for you to get distracted.”

The coldness in his tone made you sit up slightly, confused. “Hyuck—”

“I’ll take the couch,” he interrupted, not turning around. “I’ll drive you home in the morning. Goodnight.”

Before you could respond, he flicked off the light and shut the door behind him.

You blinked at the closed door, baffled by his sudden shift. However, the exhaustion weighed heavy on your body, and soon enough, your head hit the pillow, pulling you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile, Haechan sat on the couch, your purse on the table in front of him like it was mocking him. His mind raced, replaying every moment of the night and every possibility of what that napkin could mean.

His jaw clenched as a wave of jealousy surged through him, mingling with something deeper—something more vulnerable. Was this all a game to you? A distraction? Did this J mean more to you than he did?

Haechan leaned back, staring at the ceiling with a heaviness in his chest he couldn’t shake. Tomorrow was supposed to be the big day—the day he met your parents—but now he wasn’t so sure he could go through with it.

The couch was uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the problem. You were just down the hall, sound asleep in his bed, yet Haechan couldn’t close his eyes for more than a few seconds before they snapped back open.

Your purse sat on the coffee table like it was taunting him, the folded napkin inside feeling heavier than it had any right to. He rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a frustrated sigh as he leaned back against the couch cushions.

It wasn’t real. That’s what he kept reminding himself. You weren’t really his girlfriend, so why did the idea of someone else trying to be with you twist something so raw inside of him?

He replayed the events of the night, the way you had stumbled into his arms at the door, laughing and clinging to him like he was your safe haven. The way you’d told him you missed him—it echoed in his head, warm and sweet, and he had wanted to believe it.

Then he’d seen the napkin.

In case you need another shoulder to lean on.

The words looped in his mind like a curse. He sat up, staring at the purse again, his jaw tightening. Who was this J? Why did you have his number?

You had been with Karina, sure, but what if this guy was someone you’d met at the club? What if he’d been the one to buy you drinks, to make you laugh, to look at you in a way that Haechan foolishly thought only he did?

His fists clenched at the thought, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to push the images out of his head. He had no right to feel this way, he told himself. You weren’t his. Not really.

The idea of you leaning on someone else, laughing with someone else, kissing someone else—it made his stomach churn.

The minutes turned to hours, and the city outside the window grew quieter, yet his mind stayed restless.

He thought back to the times you’d spent together recently. The way your eyes softened when you looked at him, the way your fingers would brush against his as if it were second nature. The quiet moments after the fake laughter, when it felt like everything between you wasn’t fake at all.

Could he have imagined it all? Were the feelings one-sided?

He threw himself back against the couch, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Maybe this was what he deserved. Maybe this was the fallout of blurring the lines, of letting his heart get tangled in something that was never supposed to be real.

Then he thought about tomorrow—or rather, tonight. Meeting your family as your boyfriend. Pretending to be yours in front of the people who mattered most to you. The thought had filled him with nerves before, but now it felt unbearable. How was he supposed to stand there, play the part, when he didn’t even know where he stood with you?

His eyes drifted back to the purse again. It was a small thing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, yet it felt monumental. That napkin had shattered whatever fragile understanding he thought you shared, leaving him questioning everything.

As the first rays of sunlight began to creep through the window, Haechan sighed deeply, running a hand over his face. His body was heavy with exhaustion, but his mind refused to let him rest.

One thing was certain—if he didn’t get answers soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending.

The faint scent of coffee and something savory woke you first. You blinked groggily, your head heavy and your body sluggish as you turned toward the nightstand. There, beside a glass of water, was a small bottle of Tylenol waiting for you.

The gesture brought a soft smile to your lips. Even after nights like this, he always took care of you.

Rubbing your temples, you sat up slowly, the ache in your head reminding you of last night’s drinks. The apartment was quiet, save for the faint clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen. Pushing yourself out of bed, you shuffled toward the source of the noise, following the smell of breakfast.

When you stepped into the kitchen, he was already there, leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand. A plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon sat on the countertop, clearly made for you.

“Good morning,” you murmured, your voice scratchy from sleep as you pulled out a stool.

He barely glanced at you, taking a sip of his coffee before setting the mug down with a soft clink. “Eat up,” he said flatly, his tone devoid of its usual warmth. “You’re probably hungover.”

The coldness in his voice made you pause. You looked at him carefully, noting the stiffness in his posture, the way his eyes refused to meet yours.

“Thanks,” you said hesitantly, sitting down and picking at the food. You watched him from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge his mood.

When the silence stretched too long, you finally spoke. “Are you okay? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he replied quickly, too quickly.

“You don’t seem fine,” you pressed, setting your fork down. “Did something happen last night?”

He let out a sharp breath through his nose, finally looking at you. His expression was guarded, but there was a flicker of something beneath it—hurt, frustration, something he wasn’t saying.

“I’ll start getting ready,” he said abruptly, brushing past your question. “You should eat and get some rest when you get home. We’ve got that big dinner tonight.”

You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing against his arm to stop him, but he yanked it back before you could get a firm hold.

The motion was reflexive, but it felt like a slap. The shock of it lingered in the air between you, and you froze, your hand hanging in the space he’d just pulled away from.

“Did you just pull away from me…” your voice trailed off, your words caught somewhere between disbelief and hurt.

“I didn’t mean—” he started, his voice sharper than he intended. When he saw the look on your face, he cut himself off, turning away from you entirely.

“No, talk to me,” you said, standing now. The frustration bubbled up in your chest, and you didn’t care if your head was pounding or if your voice cracked. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been weird since last night. Did I do something?”

He clenched his fists at his sides, his shoulders rigid. “It’s nothing. Just drop it, okay?”

“Nothing?” you echoed incredulously, stepping closer. “You won’t look at me, you won’t talk to me, and now you’re pulling away like I did something wrong. If it’s nothing, then why are you acting like this?”

“Because I’m tired!” he snapped, spinning around to face you. His voice was sharp, the anger in his tone startling you; but beneath it, you heard the cracks, the weight of something deeper. “I’m tired, okay? Of this, of pretending, of…” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as if trying to physically push the words back down.

“Of what?” you pressed softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

His jaw clenched, his gaze dropping to the floor. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “I just think you should go home, get some rest, and be ready for dinner tonight. That’s it.”

You stared at him, frustration and confusion swirling in your chest. He wouldn’t look at you, wouldn’t explain himself, and the distance he was putting between you felt suffocating.

“Fine,” you said quietly, the word laced with hurt. “If you want to push me away, then that’s on you.”

He didn’t respond, didn’t look up, didn’t move as you turned on your heel and headed back toward the bedroom to grab your remaining belongings. The door clicked shut behind you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the pounding in your head and the ache growing in your chest.

Whatever was going on, whatever he was holding back—it felt like it was slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know how to stop it.

Meanwhile, he stood frozen in the kitchen, staring at the spot where you’d just been. His chest felt heavy, and the words he hadn’t said echoed in his mind, louder than anything else.

You stormed out of his room, grabbing your things with shaky hands, your chest tight with frustration and hurt. The air between you had been tense and suffocating, and you couldn’t stay another second in that apartment.

“Wait—” he called after you, his voice laced with urgency.

“I don’t need a ride home, and I don’t need a pity breakfast,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended as you reached the door. You turned back for a moment, your heart aching but your pride keeping you standing tall. “I’ll see you tonight, and then after that, whatever this is will be officially done.”

Before he could respond, you slammed the door shut behind you, the sound reverberating through the hallway.

The cold morning air hit your face as you made your way home on foot, each step heavy with unspoken emotions. The weight of everything pressed down on you, but you pushed through, your pace quickening as if moving faster would stop the thoughts from racing in your head.

When you finally reached your apartment, your hands were trembling as you unlocked the door. Once inside, the silence of your room felt deafening. You tossed your bag to the side and collapsed onto your bed, the weight of the morning and everything leading up to it crashing over you.

And then, it all came out.

Tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and relentless as you buried your face in your pillow. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, and no matter how much you tried to quiet yourself, the sobs broke free, filling the room.

The sound must have carried through the walls because moments later, a soft knock came at your door.

“Hey,” Jeno’s voice called through the wood, cautious and concerned. “Are you okay? Can I come in?”

You froze, your breath hitching as you quickly wiped at your face, trying to compose yourself. “I’m fine,” you croaked, but your shaky voice betrayed you.

“Please,” Jeno insisted, the worry in his tone clear. “Let me in.”

Reluctantly, you reached over and unlocked the door. Jeno pushed it open gently, stepping inside and closing it behind him. His eyes immediately found you on the bed, your tear-streaked face buried in your hands.

“Hey,” he said softly, walking over and sitting at the edge of your bed. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I… I don’t know if we should even do the dinner tonight,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Jeno frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “Why not? What happened?”

You swallowed hard, debating how much to tell him. For a moment, you considered brushing it off, but the weight of everything you’d been holding inside was too much.

“I—” you started, hesitating before letting out a shaky breath. “I need to tell you the truth about something.”

Jeno’s brows furrowed, his expression soft but cautious. “Okay… I’m listening.”

You sat up slowly, wrapping your arms around your knees. “Haechan and I… we’re not really dating,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t interrupt, letting you continue.

“We started fake dating because you and Mom and Dad wouldn’t get off my back about finding someone. I thought it would just be for a while, to take the pressure off, but…” Your voice cracked, and you rubbed at your face, frustrated with yourself.

“But what?” Jeno pressed gently.

“I fell for him,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I don’t know when it happened, but it’s not fake for me anymore. Now he’s barely talking to me, and I don’t know what I did wrong or what’s going on in his head. I feel like I ruined everything.”

Jeno stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a sigh and reached over, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice full of genuine regret. “I didn’t realize how much pressure we were putting on you. I never meant to push you into something like this.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, the warmth of his embrace soothing some of the ache in your chest.

“I think you need to talk to him,” Jeno said after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “You’re never going to get answers if you don’t. If he doesn’t feel the same way, that’s on him, not you. You were just trying to protect yourself, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What if it makes things worse?” you asked, your voice small.

“Then we deal with it together—or not at all,” Jeno said firmly. “But you deserve to know the truth. Don’t let him leave you in the dark.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in.

“What about me moving out and finding someone? Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what Mom and Dad want? To push me out?” you scoff, the words spilling out as your mind flashes back to the way Haechan pushed you away earlier.

Jeno’s reaction is immediate, his tone sharp with hurt. “What are you talking about? You think that’s what this is about? That I want to kick you out?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you nod slowly, wiping the tears off your cheeks with trembling hands.

Jeno starts to say something but stops, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath as he forces himself to calm down. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, steadier.

“I love you,” he says firmly, his words cutting through the silence. “You’re my sister, and you’re the only one I’ve got. It’s just you and me here, besides Mom and Dad back home. I don’t want you to leave. You’re my real best friend.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten, and you blink back fresh tears as he continues.

“I just want to see you happy,” he says, his tone gentle now. “I want to see you live your life, not bury yourself in work or stress. You put so much pressure on yourself, and it kills me to see you overwhelmed all the time. I thought… maybe having someone close to you, someone new, might give you a sense of peace.”

He pauses, running a hand through his hair before sighing. “And listen, I know you said you and Haechan schemed this whole thing, but it’s obvious there’s something between you two. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

Your sobs come back harder, and Jeno instinctively moves closer, rubbing soothing circles on your back. His touch is warm, grounding, as his words wrap around you like a protective shield.

“I’ve always just wanted the best for you,” he says softly, leaning his head closer to yours. “I want you to be happy and healthy, and if that means staying here as long as you need, then stay. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ve got your back. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t welcome. That was never my intention, and I hate that I made you feel this way. I don’t want to push you away.”

You collapse into his arms, burying your face in his shoulder as your sobs come freely. His embrace is strong, steady, as he holds you like he’s anchoring you to the ground. For once, in a while, you felt wanted by your own blood.

“Thank you, Jen,” you manage between cries. “For everything. I’m so sorry I lied to you. I love you.”

He pulls you closer, his chin resting on your head. “I love you too,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “No more lying, okay? I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight on your chest lifts just slightly, enough for you to breathe. You stay like that for a moment longer, letting yourself cry until the tears run out, until the warmth of your brother’s hug melts away the worst of your pain.

Jeno gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before standing. “Thank you for opening up to me. I’ll give you some space. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

As he left your room, you could hear him muttering something under his breath. A moment later, the sound of his voice carried through the apartment as he tried to get a hold of Haechan.

“Yeah?” Haechan answers after the third ring, his voice tense.

“Meet me in front of my building in ten minutes,” Jeno says, his tone tight as he tries to keep his anger in check.

“So, she told you?” Haechan asks, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Jeno replies curtly.

Haechan pulls the phone away from his mouth, letting out a desperate sigh as his eyes fix on the ceiling, silently pleading for something—anything—to save him from what’s coming. After a long pause, he exhales sharply. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

Jeno stood outside the complex building, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the sidewalk. The air was crisp, but it didn’t stop the tension from coiling in his chest. His hands were shoved into his jacket pockets as he waited, replaying the conversation he’d had with his sister earlier.

Her tears, her shaky voice—everything about it had gutted him. Whatever had happened between her and Haechan, it needed to be resolved. Jeno wasn’t the kind of brother to let things like this slide, not when it was so obvious how much she was hurting.

Finally, he spotted Haechan approaching from a distance. The usual lightness in his step was gone, replaced by a slower, heavier gait. His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his head tilted down, as if he already knew what was coming.

When Haechan reached him, Jeno didn’t waste time. “Do you love her?”

The question hit like a punch, straightforward and impossible to dodge. Haechan froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly before his gaze darted to the ground.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “I do. I have for a while now.”

Jeno’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his expression remained firm. “Then what the hell happened?”

Haechan let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I… I don’t know, man. She came over last night after the club, and everything was fine until I found this note in her purse. It was from some guy—‘J’ or whatever—and it just… messed me up. I didn’t know what to think.”

Jeno frowned, his brows furrowing. “A note? From who?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan said, his voice rising slightly. “It was just some number and a message about being there for her. It made me think—what if I’m not enough? What if she’s keeping her options open?”

Jeno’s jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling. “So you let your jealousy get the better of you and pushed her away instead of talking to her?”

“I didn’t push her away,” Haechan argued weakly, though the guilt in his voice was evident. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Jeno shook his head, exhaling sharply. “She loves you, Hyuck. She told me everything—how you two started this whole fake dating thing because of me and our parents. Only, it’s not fake for her anymore. She’s scared you don’t feel the same, and now she’s in her room crying because she thinks you don’t care.”

Haechan blinked, his breath catching. “She… she said that?”

“Yeah, she did,” Jeno said firmly. “And let me tell you something—you’re one of my best friends, Hyuck. You’re a good guy, but if you care about her, you need to prove it. You can’t keep shutting her out every time something scares you.”

Haechan swallowed hard, the weight of Jeno’s words sinking in.

“You’ve been a great friend to me,” Jeno continued, his voice softer now. “I know you’re the kind of person who would go to the ends of the earth for the people you care about. So if you really want to be with her, if you see a future with her, then you need to go upstairs, talk to her, and fix this. Don’t let one very stupid misunderstanding ruin everything.”

Haechan’s hands clenched at his sides, his heart racing as he processed everything.

“What if I screw it up again?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jeno placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his expression both serious and reassuring. “Then you keep trying. Relationships aren’t perfect, but they’re worth it when it’s real—and this? I can tell it’s real for both of you. So don’t waste any more time.”

Haechan nodded slowly, the resolve in his chest growing stronger. Without another word, he turned toward the building, his legs carrying him toward the confrontation he both dreaded and needed.

Jeno watched him go, letting out a deep sigh. For the first time all day, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe—just maybe—things would turn out the way they were supposed to.

You had finally managed to calm yourself down after a long, warm shower and curling up under the covers of your bed. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept replaying the events of the morning. Every sharp word, every look, every lingering feeling—it all circled in your head like a storm you couldn’t escape.

A sudden knock at your door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Yeah?” you called out, assuming it was Jeno checking on you again. The door creaked open slowly, and when you looked up, it wasn’t Jeno.

Haechan stood there, hesitating in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame as if he needed it to steady himself.

“Hey… Can I come in?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, almost cautious.

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that you’d fought so hard to push down. Fidgeting with your hands, you nodded. “Sure.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him gently, as though he was afraid of shattering the fragile air between you. He moved to the corner of your bed, sitting down hesitantly, his posture stiff and uncertain.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tinged with guilt. “For the way I reacted this morning. I was upset, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You gave me every chance to talk, and I just… didn’t.”

You stayed silent, watching him from the head of your bed, the weight of his words making your chest tighten.

“Truth is,” he continued, rubbing his hands together, “I found that napkin in your purse last night. You know, the one with the note.”

Suddenly, everything clicked.

“I got jealous,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “At first, that’s all it was. However, the more I read it, the more frustrated I got—not because some other guy was interested in you, but because I realized it was more than that.”

He sighed, his hand running through his hair, tugging at the strands in a way you recognized as his tell when he was struggling to get the words out.

“I like you,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “A lot. I like you a lot more than like, actually.” He let out a small, nervous laugh, shaking his head as his eyes dropped to the floor.

“Ever since we met, I’ve liked you,” he confessed, his voice quieter now. “At first, I didn’t say anything because you’re Jeno’s sister. What kind of friend would I be if I got feelings for my best friend’s sister, right? Then, it turned into something so much more than that. You became my best friend, too. The first person I think about when I wake up, the last person I think about before I fall asleep, and the only person in my dreams. You’re everywhere in my head.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, tears spilling down your cheeks before you could stop them.

“I know,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “It was my idea to start all of this. At first, it was just pretending, but then it became real. For me, it became so real. And that note? That stupid, meaningless note? It wasn’t even about the guy—it was about me. I hated that a complete stranger had the courage to tell you how he felt when I couldn’t, even after everything we’ve shared. I let my pride and my fear get in the way, and I hurt you because of it. I’m so sorry.”

This time, he looked up, his eyes locking with yours. They weren’t cold like they had been this morning. They were warm, soft, familiar—filled with the Haechan you knew and cared for. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he said, his voice trembling slightly but full of conviction. “If you’ll let me, I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want this to be fake. I want us—you and me—to be real. Please, let’s make this real.”

His words hung in the air, each one wrapping around your heart and tugging at it. You stared at him, your lips parting slightly as you tried to process the raw sincerity in his confession. The way his eyes bore into yours, the vulnerability etched across his face, it all broke down every last wall you’d built to keep your feelings hidden.

Slowly, your body moved on its own. You crawled across the bed, closing the small space between you and Haechan before throwing your arms around his shoulders. His warmth engulfed you as your head nestled against his neck, and for the first time all day, you allowed yourself to melt into him.

Haechan’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you even closer as he let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that to you again. I promise, I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

His voice cracked with emotion, the words tumbling out over and over as he held you. His hand ran soothingly along your back while the other cradled the back of your head.

You stayed like that for a moment, soaking in his warmth and the steady beat of his heart. When you finally pulled back, your hands remained on his shoulders, and you found yourself looking into his eyes—those deep, soulful eyes that were filled with nothing but regret and love.

“The note,” you started softly, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “It was from some random guy at the club. He handed it to me, and I shoved it in my purse so I could throw it out later. But… we got drunk, and I completely forgot it was even there.”

His expression shifted instantly, from shock to embarrassment, and finally to guilt. “So it really didn’t mean anything?” he asked, his voice almost timid.

You shook your head firmly. “Not a thing. I didn’t even remember it existed until just now.”

Haechan exhaled a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I overthought everything, and I pushed you away when I should’ve just asked you.”

You gave him a small, tentative smile, your fingers absentmindedly smoothing over his shoulders. “You’re not an idiot,” you said gently. “You were scared, and honestly? So was I.”

His brows furrowed slightly, his gaze softening as he tilted his head in curiosity. “Scared?”

You nodded, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “Scared because… I like you, too. A lot. Maybe more than a lot.” You let out a nervous laugh, your hands dropping to your lap. “I think I’ve been trying so hard to convince myself that this was just pretend because I didn’t want to ruin anything between us. But the truth is, I don’t want to pretend anymore either. I want us to start over—for real this time.”

His eyes widened at your words, and for a moment, he just stared at you, completely still. Then, as if something clicked inside him, his expression changed. The regret and guilt melted away, replaced by something so raw, so full of love and passion that it took your breath away.

Haechan reached for your face, his hands cradling your cheeks as if you were the most delicate thing in the world. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your smile trembling as tears welled in your eyes. “I mean it.”

That was all he needed. In an instant, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was both passionate, real, and impossibly tender. His lips moved against yours with a reverence that made your heart ache, as if he were pouring every unspoken word, every hidden feeling, into that single moment.

Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at his hoodie as you kissed him back, matching the intensity of his emotions. It was like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you, tangled in each other and the overwhelming feelings you’d kept buried for so long.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his confession.

Your breath hitched, and your lips curved into a smile as you looked into his eyes. “I love you, too,” you said, your voice steady and full of truth.

The smile that broke across his face was radiant, and he pulled you into his arms again, holding you like he never wanted to let go. For the first time, there was no doubt, no pretending—just the two of you, finally on the same page.

The evening had finally arrived, and the three of you—Jeno, Haechan, and yourself—stood outside your parents' house. The warm glow of the porch light illuminated the path, casting a comforting hue that did little to calm the nerves buzzing in your chest. Haechan stood beside you, his hand brushing against yours, and when you glanced at him, he gave you a small smile, his own nerves barely hidden beneath his confident exterior.

“You guys ready?” Jeno asked, breaking the silence.

You nodded, inhaling deeply as you stepped forward.

When the door opened, the familiar warmth of your parents' home enveloped you. Your mom greeted you with a tight hug, her smile as radiant as ever. Your dad stood just behind her, his eyes lighting up as he welcomed all of you inside.

“Come in, come in! It’s been too long,” your mom said, ushering everyone inside.

As you stepped into the living room, Haechan gave your parents a polite bow, his usual charm already working its magic. “Thank you for having us tonight,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with warmth.

“Of course, Haechan,” your mom replied, smiling at him. “It’s nice to finally have you here as more than just Jeno’s friend.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow, a curious look passing over his face. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

This was it. You glanced at Haechan, and he gave you a reassuring nod, his hand discreetly finding yours. Together, you both stepped forward, standing side by side in front of your parents.

“Well,” you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “We wanted to let you know that Donghyuck and I… we’re together now. Officially. He’s my boyfriend.”

Haechan’s smile widened as he looked at your parents, his voice filled with pride and sincerity as he added, “It’s true. I care about your daughter a lot, and I promise to always treat her with the love and respect she deserves.”

Your parents exchanged a quick glance, their expressions softening.

“Well,” your dad said after a moment, his voice warm, “if our daughter is happy, that’s all that matters to us.”

Your mom’s smile was beaming now as she stepped forward, squeezing you into a hug first before turning to Haechan. “Welcome to the family,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately.

Behind you, Jeno let out a low whistle, crossing his arms as a smug grin spread across his face. “I told you they’d approve,” he said, clearly enjoying the moment.

You shot him a playful glare, but the warmth in his expression softened your teasing.

As the night unfolded, the five of you gathered around the dining table, the smell of your mom’s cooking filling the air. The conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the clinking of silverware. Haechan charmed your parents effortlessly, sharing stories of how you two had grown closer and subtly leaving out the “fake dating” part of your history.

Jeno leaned back in his chair, watching the scene with a satisfied look. His best friend and his sister were happy, his parents were smiling, and for once, everything felt exactly as it should be.

Your dad clapped Haechan on the back after dinner, laughing at one of his jokes. “You’re alright, kid,” he said. “Take care of my daughter, okay?”

“Always,” Haechan replied, his voice full of conviction.

By the time dessert was served, you felt a weight lifting from your chest. Sitting beside Haechan, with his hand resting comfortably on your knee under the table, you realized this was the first time you’d truly felt free. No more hiding, no more stress, no more pretending—just you and him, together, surrounded by the people you loved.

As the night wound down and your mom started clearing plates, Haechan leaned over to you, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I can’t believe this is real.”

You turned to him, your smile soft. “It is, we don’t have to hide anymore.”

He grinned, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” you replied, feeling the words settle warmly in your chest. Finally, you weren’t scared to say it.

As you glanced around the table, seeing the joy on your parents’ faces and Jeno’s approving nod, you knew this was the start of something beautiful. A life where you and Haechan could love each other openly, honestly, and fully—just as it was always meant to be.

BONUS

Months had passed since that dinner with your parents, and your relationship with Haechan had only grown stronger. Gone were the days of pretending and sneaking around. Now, you could openly love each other, and you savored every moment of it. Tonight was no exception.

The neon lights of the club bathed the group in a kaleidoscope of colors. Music thumped through the air, and laughter echoed as you, Haechan, Jeno, Karina, Mark, and Chenle occupied one of the larger booths. Drinks lined the table, and everyone was in high spirits, swaying to the rhythm of the music or yelling jokes over the pounding bass.

“Here,” Haechan said, sliding a glass across the table to you. “One for the prettiest girl in the room.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, taking the drink. “You’re shameless.”

“You love it,” he teased, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before anyone could interrupt.

“Hey!” Karina exclaimed, pointing her straw at the two of you. “We agreed to keep the PDA to a minimum tonight!”

Haechan shrugged, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he smirked. “What can I say? I can’t help myself.”

You nudged him, trying to suppress a laugh as Jeno and Chenle made exaggerated gagging sounds.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Mark said, grinning as he tipped his drink toward you both. “At least try to make it through one night without making the rest of us single people feel bad.”

“Who’s single?” Karina piped up, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.

As the night went on, the group gradually dispersed onto the dance floor. Haechan stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours. You danced with him among your friends, his playful energy infectious as he twirled you under the flashing lights.

At one point, you found yourselves back at the bar, catching your breath and sipping on water.

“You know,” Haechan said, his tone suddenly lowered as he leaned closer, “you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze. “You’ve told me that about three times already.”

“I’ll say it a hundred more times if I want to,” he replied, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. “Careful, Donghyuck. You’re laying it on a little thick.”

He grinned, leaning in so his lips brushed your ear. “If you think this is thick, wait till I get you alone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you pushed him lightly, trying to hide the flush on your cheeks. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re irresistible,” he quipped, finishing his drink and setting the glass down. “Come on.”

“Where?” you asked, watching as he grabbed your hand and started leading you away from the bar.

“Somewhere we can actually hear each other,” he said with a wink, weaving the two of you through the crowd.

It didn’t take long before you found yourselves in one of the quieter private rooms tucked away in the back of the club. The walls muffled the music just enough, creating a more intimate atmosphere. A small couch and a dim overhead light added to the cozy vibe.

Haechan shut the door behind you, turning to face you with a smirk that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Now this,” he said, stepping closer, “is more like it.”

You laughed, backing up until your legs hit the couch. “So, what’s your plan now that you’ve dragged me back here?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled you into his arms, swaying gently to the faint rhythm of the music that still seeped through the walls. His hands rested on your waist as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice soft.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. The two of you moved slowly, completely lost in your own little world.

As the song in the distance changed to something slower, Haechan tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours. “You know,” he said, his voice barely audible, “I think this is my favorite place to be—with you.”

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his words. “Hyuck…”

Before you could say anything else, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and electric. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, leaving you breathless.

The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other. His fingers traced gentle patterns along your back, and when he pulled away just enough to whisper, “I love you,” his voice was steady and sure.

Your heart swelled, and you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against his cheeks as you whispered back, “I love you too.”

Haechan grinned, his eyes lighting up with pure joy before he kissed you again, his movements more urgent but still filled with the same passion.

Getting lost in not only the kiss but in his touch you find yourself breathing heavier the closer his lips moved down your neck.

"W-What are you doing?" you asked, a low chuckle escaping your lips despite the tension in the air.

"My girlfriend," he murmured between kisses, his voice low and filled with desire. In that moment, the world beyond the locked door ceased to exist.

With skilled hands, he slipped the straps of your dress off your shoulders, letting them hang low and exposing your already hardened nipples. His eyes raked over you, taking in every detail as though he couldn't believe you were real.

"I'll never get tired of this," he whispered, his voice dripping with awe as his mouth latched onto your left breast, his tongue swirling against your sensitive skin.

A loud moan escaped you, echoing faintly in the private room, but the thundering bass of the music outside was loud enough to drown it out.

"Get loud for me, baby," he urged, his voice teasing and commanding all at once. "I wanna hear how beautiful you sound for me."

His hands slid to your back as he unzipped your dress, letting it pool around your ankles. Without hesitation, he positioned you on the sofa, one of your legs resting over his shoulder as his dark eyes zeroed in on your glistening core.

"Barely did anything, and you're already begging for me," he teased, slipping two fingers inside you with ease, the smirk on his lips widening when your sharp gasp filled the air.

"Haechan... please," you pleaded, your hands gripping the fabric of the couch as your body trembled beneath his touch.

"I'm not done, babe," he murmured, his fingers curling inside you, expertly hitting that sweet spot that made your back arch.

His tongue flicked out, meeting your needy clit as he lavished every inch of you with attention, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony.

Your moans grew louder, your hips bucking against his mouth as your hands tangled in his hair. He groaned into you, the vibrations driving you wild as he watched you lose control, grinding yourself against him with abandon.

Haechan's free hand wandered to his hardened bulge, brushing over his strained cock that twitched with every sound you made. He bit back a growl, desperate to feel you fully but savoring every moment of your unraveling.

When your release finally washed over you, your scream of his name echoed in the room. Your body shuddered as your juices dripped down his chin, his tongue greedily lapping at everything you gave him.

As you lay there, trying to catch your breath, Haechan rose to his feet, unfastening his belt with swift hands and tugging his pants down to his ankles.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him, your lips parting in awe as you noticed his hard cock, his tip red and aggravated with precum.

He leaned down, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist before gripping your hair gently but firmly. His dark, hungry eyes bore into yours as he spoke, his voice dripping with authority. "You're going to take me right here, right now. I don't want you holding back those pretty moans of yours. Got it?"

You nodded quickly, barely able to speak before he lined himself up and thrust into you with a deep, powerful motion. A low growl escaped his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"So fucking tight for me," he groaned, his voice rough in your ear. "Always so tight."

His pace started slow but deliberate, each thrust pulling moans from you that sent heat coursing through your entire body. His eyes locked onto yours as he noticed the outline of his protruding length against your stomach.

Grinning, he grabbed your hands and pressed them to it.

"You feel that, baby?" he said, his voice husky. "Soon, I'll fill you up right there. Is that what you want?"

Your sweat-slicked skin glistened as you bit your lip, nodding feverishly. "Yes! Please, Donghyuck, I want you to fill me up with every drop!"

His thrusts quickened, each one deeper and more relentless as his free hand trailed up to cup your throat. "That's my girl," he praised, his voice thick with desire as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

When your walls began to flutter and clench around him, his groan turned into a deep growl. "Donghyuck!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your release crashed over you.

He wasn't far behind. His hips stuttered as his grip tightened, his eyes rolling back as he spilled himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his climax. Even as he came, he rocked his hips, ensuring every last part of him stayed buried deep within you.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sounds of your labored breathing.

Haechan's forehead rested against yours as his hand moved to brush damp strands of hair from your face.

"Round two at my place?" he asked, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

Your laugh echoed softly as you cupped his face, your gaze filled with warmth. "Only if we manage to sneak away without getting caught."

"Say less." He grinned, standing to pull his pants back on before helping you dress. His hands lingered a little too long on your hips, his touch still filled with the passion of the moment.

Hand in hand, the two of you slipped out of the private room, sharing whispered laughs and conspiratorial smiles as you made your way through the club and out into the cool night air.

You felt completely free, the chaos of the night left behind as you escaped into a world where it was just you and him. Together, you'd already won a lifetime of love

‧˚⭒ taglist: @jaeminnanaaa17 @scoobysnackszoo @1800-jigglemywiggle @karmasbestie @cathamada @yoursyuno @oneeew @serenedreamscape @moryymor @yesohhsehun @dnihyuck @doyotint @kodasity @rainverry

[cognitiveoverload]

A temporary goodbye (Front Man / Hwang In-Ho x reader)

summary: The first game is about to begin, and the Front Man needs to talk to his right hand man - who happens to be a little more than that.

tags: secret relationship, established relationship, fem!reader in mind

note: I had this scene in my head and just had to write it.

You’re standing next to the Front Man in the control room in silence, patiently waiting for his orders as always. There’s a lot going on in your head, so it’s not a surprise that you find yourself stealing a glance at him more and more often, because he’s the reason why you’re a little distracted today. This is the first day of the games, and while normally it’s a routine task, this year things are different. Everyone can feel it, but very few know the reason.

“I’ll watch the first game in my room,” he suddenly announces, and before you could react, he walks away. You let out a sigh under your mask, disappointed that you can’t talk to him before he springs into action, but then he calls back, his voice cutting through the silence. “Bunny, with me.”

The mask luckily hides the wide grin that appears on your face upon hearing him say this. You were supposed to have a proper code name, but he decided that Bunny suited you more, which is why you began to use it, and he even got you a bronze rabbit mask that matched his own in style. As usual, you follow him without a question, passing by the staff members who are preparing for the first game.

In his private room, the Front Man sits in the armchair and pours himself a drink, and eventually he takes off his mask too, feeling comfortable and safe enough to let it go temporarily. You can feel your heart beating in your throat as you wait for him to show any sign that he remembers you’re there. Sometimes he gets so lost in his job that you have to remind him of your presence.

But not this time. Now he clears his throat and raises his hand to signal you to go closer. “Say it,” he orders, although his voice is gentle, as it is every time he talks to you. 

Since you’re obedient enough, you pad closer and stop by his side, a small smile creeping on your lips when you look at him. Four years. You’ve been working together for four years, but he only took off his mask around you two years ago. This was his way of showing his trust, something you truly appreciated. 

“Take off the mask, we’re alone.” He finally looks up at you, a faint smirk visible as he watches you follow his order. Once it’s placed on top of his, he sneaks an arm around your waist and pulls you into his lap. “So? What’s on your mind? I can see something’s bothering you.”

Letting out a long sigh, you wrap an arm around his shoulder and lean in to give him a tentative kiss. “Are you sure about this? Joining the game, I mean,” you clarify.

In-ho lets out a quiet, humorless laugh. “You know perfectly well why I’m doing that. But it’s okay, you don’t have to worry,” he assures you as he rests his hand on your thigh, his fingers digging into your skin to ground you. Because he knows you. He knows you’re spiraling, he knows you think something bad will happen, which always kicks your brain into overdrive. 

“If you don’t get out in time, I’ll be stuck babysitting the VIPs,” you say with a pout.

“You’d be fine.” When you give him a sceptical look, he kisses you again, and he even moves his hand closer to your inner thigh. The moment a soft moan escapes your lips, though, he stops. “Since when do you doubt me?” he wonders, his eyes examining your face to see the reaction.

Shaking your head, you rest your forehead against his. “I don’t doubt you, I’m just… Look, I know you can protect yourself, and you thought of everything, but we don’t know what he’s planning. He’s a ticking time bomb in there,” you explain. 

“Keep an eye on the team while I’m in the game. Everything’s supposed to go smoothly, but if something happens… take care of it.” 

You nod without hesitation, after all, that’s why you’re here. That’s why you became his right hand man. What’s happening between you–the stolen moments, the shared life back home when you’re not busy preparing for the next games–is a secret you’re keeping to yourselves. You’re the only ones who should know about it, no one else. It’s personal, and if anyone knew about this connection, they could easily use it against him. 

In the beginning, you tried to resist the pull, you tried to escape his gravitational field, but then In-ho made you understand that it was okay, that you could make this work. He would make sure you can make this work. By now, you’re sure he would go to great lengths to protect you, he would get rid of anyone who ever dared to even look at you the wrong way. 

The moment is ruined when you hear the instructions of the first game, a sign that it has begun. You both turn to the screen to watch it, but his hand is still teasing you, even if it’s nothing more but a subconscious movement. The comfortable silence between you is based on the deep understanding of each other, but you’re a little startled when he speaks up, not bothering to look at you. 

“I love you, Bunny, never forget that,” he says quietly, as if he was telling this to himself. 

A warm smile crawls on your lips. “I love you too.”

[charmed-asylum]

The award for god damn my mouth drop like a cartoon cat goes to SY but u know . I know he doesn’t beat around the bush. However, was I thinking he be like this . And shit I can say from experience and studies that a lot he doing goes right with it. I mean sad thing and it’s really not just one person to pin point who could of fix this besides Thor town folks and trailer trash mom ( now idk where she grew up but hey it’s not me but cliches) that could of help. It’s sad because for her case she probably isn’t a slut while Sy is crazy he just type that knows it but tries to be all wooo man I mean I’m not crazy I’m caring but if u ever mess with me then haha u be getting a dead cat in your mail box or a stalker for life but wooooooo I’m just caring and being a human . Shit pat on the back and you good is looking out a simple box of stuff is looking out non stop poof Sy there is not helping out it’s stalking but bc this town is so small folks won’t see it. Oh he lucky that town size of a city block.

“On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body” honey this statement so spot on huh one a check back in the day like your time period AU money u get paid can last a month or last time now it’s like a blink poof gone and your body lord I’m only in my 20s and the issues I’m having at my age blown minds.

Sy just always there and idk why but it’s big ( lord I’m drooling and have not finish this thought) well as a whole get always with the sneak attack shit I’m barley 5 foot and I still have issues . Bc I’m too short they turn around and still don’t see me I gotta jump be like Boo. Anyway still damn “. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. “ also going back to my girl you got yourself a lifetime 20/20 level stalker. Hahaha way you keep doing Thor I can’t “ It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. “ I wonder still wonder because he hasn’t been front with her which I feel it coming feel it coming . ( still gonna be shock) but on the why he gave her a reason which I’m gonna point out in a second but can “ I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." be one I mean it be least crazy one . And if not does he pray on pregnant women because of well a lot tumblr taught me a lot about kinks but because how easy the target she or how her emotions not there or pregnancy brain. “ You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you” also that he was so close to Thor which questioned his character like so he mad bc what Thor did or he use Thor for some reason. Because in small time I can’t see some friends falling out so easy bc hello who else u got .

This again makes me feel bad for her because while Sy seems nice and it your name was the fluff you don’t ask for I be all aww so cute and romantic but no nothing ever good and sweet it’s an huh my leg said in a sponge bob character voice. Like never so simple and sweet but damn how bad I felt reading this “ You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt.. Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment” and fact he open ( after 1st day seeing her) mention he read books about pregnancy. It makes her wall slowly start to crack. “ He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.”

HAAH I’m sure many mention this but lord can you imagine “ He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. “ But no the way that he watches her even down to her fingers. Or what way her EYES 👀 may go. He’s watching her as if I only watching tho his pray but as if he I don’t know still in war zone, looking through his sniper or goggles, watching his enemy. But still huh I hate it the perfect crazy stalker but idk even talking to her not at her or down to her .

AND HE SO HONESTLY BLUNT like okay he playing a game of 1s and 00s and we doing tic tac toe. Still like , “ "Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me….. His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." that to me feels ( because not 1st time) he thinking on how to say it like before with the honest but down play it. In away which is why I feel there more.

Called to Duty 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The bank is as ever anxiety inducing. On pay day, you go down to cash your check then give most of it right back, parsing it out for your various expenses. At the end of it, you have even less than the month before. You don't get it. Thing's only seem to get worse; not just money, but your body. Every day you wake up, you feel even more crummy than the last. 

Your hopes of a treat at the cafe are dashed. You give a longing look as you walk by and peer through the window. You can smell cinnamon and coffee. You're strict non-caffeinated, doctor's orders, but a decaf would be amazing with one of those cinnamon buns. Ugh, damn, why are you torturing yourself? 

You turn to continue down the street but barely dodge out of the way of another pedestrian. He makes sure you can't pass as he mirrors you, sidestepping to block your way. You sigh as you step back and look Sy in the face. For a big man, he sure can sneak up on you. 

"Hey," he flips up his dark sunglasses, "how're you feeling?" 

You stare up at him defiantly, not quite bold enough to glare. He hasn't done anything wrong, he's just persistent. It isn't his fault he reminds you of that spoiled deadbeat. Or that your emotions are volatile, one moment teary eyed, the next blazing hot with rage. 

"Fine, thanks for asking," you shrug, "Sy, I gotta--" 

"I owe you a cookie," he points to the cafe window at his shoulder. 

You blink. You remember the cracked shortbread. You forgot about that. The mention of the sugary treat makes your stomach growl and your mouth water. 

"No, you don't--" 

"I do," he insists, "I don't like to carry 'round debts. Let me buy you one." 

"I got it free," you say, "it's not a big deal." 

"It is to me," he counters, "I was heading in anyway." 

You stare at him. You really don't get this man. You're no longer so sure that Thor sent him to check up on you, not since your last interaction. In fact, the wingman seemed more spiteful of him than you. You look across the steeet to the pharmacy then back at him. The aromas wafting out with each swing of the door have you ravenous.  

"I can't stay long, I gotta work," you say. 

His cheeks twitch, as if he tamps back a smile before it can bloom, "after you." 

He gesture behind you to the door. You turn and lead the way. He reaches past you to open the door before you can and you enter ahead of him. The din within is lively and the air is warm from the crowd and the employees steaming out orders behind the counter. 

"Wanna find a seat?" He suggests, "you should rest." 

You open your mouth to argue but think better of it. You'd rather not stand in the clustered line. You nod and head off to claim the table by the window. There isn't much left. 

You pull out the chair and brace your back as you sit with a sigh. You glance over and find Sy watching you as he stands in the queue. His gaze makes you want to wilt, instead you turn your attention out the window. 

Not even Thor looked at you like that. Don't be silly. Sy is just being a dutiful guy, helping out the town slut in her time of need. You won't be duped. Not when you can hear your name being twisted on tongues at that very moment. 

You sit and wait, wring the strap of your small purse. You watch the street. If it wasn't for the people, Hammer Ford would be serene. 

A plate clinks in front of you and a porcelain mug as well. It isn't a cookie and you can smell the herbal tea's rosy flavour. You peer up at Sy as he gives an apologetic look. 

"Cookies are still baking so I got you a cinnamon bun," he says. 

"And tea?" You add. 

"Can't have one without the other," he says, "no coffee for you." 

"Yeah, I... I know." 

You could laugh. He suggested before he's been reading things about pregnancy. You just can't picture him with a copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting.  

"Thank you," you smile as best you can. 

"Gotta get mine, be back," he excuses himself and marches back to the counter. 

You look down at the gooey iced draped spiral. You really shouldn't. Not only accept his misspent generosity but indulge in the excess sugar. Yet your hormones won't let you resist. You can at least wait until he's sitting down. 

He returns with a black coffee and a rather colourful donut. They don't match. Bitter and sweet all at once. He sits and takes off his hat and sunglasses. 

You put your purse to the edge of the table and rest your hand on your stomach, doing your best to resist the animalistic need to tear apart the dessert. His eyes follow the movement and you quickly drop your arm. You don't even think when you do it, it's just a habit. 

"You-" he begins. 

"Wh--" you find your voice at the same time. 

You both stop, hesitant. He nods and gestures to you, lifting his cup as he watches you intently. That's new too. Thor never listened much, only talked a lot. Besides, you weren't exactly together for the conversation. 

"Sy," you clear your throat and sit forward as much as you can, "why are you following me around?" 

His brows form a vee, "I'm... it's not... I'm tryna help." 

"Okay, but why?" 

His eyes flick up to the ceiling and his cheek ticks as he gives the question genuine thought. When he looks at you again, his face is set, "because I want to." 

"You want to?" 

"Yes, I'd like to take care of you. And the little one, if you'll let me." 

You can't help your snort, "we hardly know each other." 

"Isn't for lack of trying," he taps his fingers on his mug. "Aren't ya gonna try the bun?" 

"I will," you assure him. He's trying to distract you and it's close to working. The cinnamon is driving you mad. "A baby is a lot of work and... I'm not your responsibility. I know Thor is your friend." 

"Was," he interjects.  

"Sure," you accept his decisive declaration, "but that doesn't mean you have to worry about his mistakes." 

"Mistakes? I don't think so," he says. 

"Well, it's not exactly planned," you scoff, "Sy, really I don't feel right about you doing so much." 

"Wouldn't feel right not doing it," he shrugs his burly shoulders. 

“But why?” You nearly exclaim. You just want to know why he cares so much, about you? 

He leans forward, elbows on the table, “they talk about me too, ya know? Since I got back from... serving. They say I’m f—crazy, or whatever. It wasn’t easy or nothin’ over there but I’m not nuts. Not like they say. Just like you’re not some slut, forgive me for saying it out loud.” 

You look down at the table and exhale. So he hears as much as anyone else about you. At least he’s honest. At least he isn’t joining them. You purse your lips and reach for the cinnamon bun, unable to restrain yourself any longer. 

“For what it’s worth,” you raise your eyes to meet his, “I never thought you were... unwell, or whatever they say.” 

His cheeks pinch, another suppressed smile, and he tilts his head, “I’m only happy to hear you think of me.” 

[qqhez]

Hiiii! :))

This is kinda one of my first times requesting, so I don't know if I'll do this right, so please bare with me 🙏😞

Since you're asking for requests, I thought about a fem!reader x Hwang In-Ho smut one shot? I don't know if you're willing to do aus, but maaaybe a professor!Hwang In-Ho x student!reader au (legal ofc) where the reader is in love with his professor and thinks he doesn't know (he has heard her talk with her friends before) because she's well behaved and all of these things (the professor definitely knows, he just finds it cute and she's much younger). He isn't giving any signs of liking her back, so she thinks he's oblivious (she's grateful for that), till the final day of classes where the professor is giving the final grades, and she got the best of the class, so he manages to give her grades to her the last, keeping them alone in the classroom? And then confessions and smut ensues?

You can change it to your liking, sorry if I wrote too much :')

TYSM IN ADVANCE 💕💕

-🪐 anon (since now)

OMG THIS IS AN AMAZINGGG IDEA THANK YOU SM 🪐 I LOVE YOU❤️❤️

TEACHERS PET // HWANG IN-HO

Pairing: student!reader x teacher!Hwang In-Ho

Warnings: smut so 18+, teacher x student, no protection (I forgor), praising, lowk ddlg idfk, huge age gap, creampie, ig thats it?

An: shiiiii im sorry if this feels really rushed🙁 school just started again and I’m so tired😪 pls enjoy🙏 also omg I watched Bungee Jumping Of Their Own today and I cried so much :(

In school everyone knew you as the kind and well behaving girl. All the teachers liked you and you were top of your class. But between your friends you were known for having a crush on your teacher. All of your friends knew about it, because you cant keep your mouth shut. But what can you do when your teacher is hot as hell and just soo dreamy. In fact you spent many classes just dreaming about him and not getting any work done.

Right after the bell rings, In-ho’s students slowly arrive in his classroom. He’s usually at the door greeting the students, and of course looking for his favourite student who is of course you. He tried not to smile at you as you walked in and sat with your friends. And of course, again, you spent the whole class just looking at him.

At the end of the class he got up and said to the whole class, “I’m really glad that I got to teach you all this year. Now I’ll give you all your final tests back. When you hear your name, come here for a moment and after that you’re free to leave.” You were sat at the very back of the classroom with your friends. You actually wanted to sit at the very front, so you could be close to In-Ho, but your friends dragged you to the back.

Finally, he called your name. You were the very last one in the room. You quickly got up and walked over to his desk. “Here. Good job.” In-Ho said as he handed the paper to you. He watched you smile, when you saw that you got the best grade possible. “You’re my top student.” He told you, as he got up and gave you a little pat on the shoulder. Right when you’re about to thank him, he interrupts you. “I need to talk to you about something”

As you heard those words leave his mouth, it felt like your heart skipped a beat. ‘Is this it? Does he like me?’ Were the only things in your mind. For three years, you had been giving him signs that you were really in love with him. But you never got anything back from him, until now.

“I’ve heard what you’ve said about me to your friends.” He said with a grin on his face. “Oh! Sir I’m so sorry-” you manage to say before he interrupts you again. “It’s okay. I have those feelings towards you too.” He said and stood up from his chair and taking a step closer to you. He lifted your chin up with his fingers and looked lovingly in your eyes. You hesitated for a moment but still crashed your lips together with him. You started to make out on his desk.

You made out for some time and slowly, you pulled away from him even though it was really difficult. “What if Someone catches us?”you asked while you were still holding his face in your hands. “Look.” He pointed at the clock. “You’re not my student anymore, so it’s okay.” He reassured you. ”you still wanna do this?“ he asked, playing his hands on your hips. You looked in his eyes and said ”Yes.”

He pulled you by your hips and turned you around, so that now you were bending over his desk. He put most of his weight on you so you couldn’t get away from him and slowly kissed you down from your neck to your thighs. This was easy for him, because you usually wore a skirt to school, or at least in the summer. When he lifted your skirt up to reveal your panties, a small ‘aww’ left his mouth, when he saw the cute pink panties you were wearing.

“My god.. you’re soaking wet! You really want me this bad?”

You tried to hide your face from all this embarrassment. “Mmmmhm” was all you could let out. You couldn’t even think about what’s gonna happen next, when your panties were pulled down and his fingers were inside of you. You couldn’t help but moan. “Shhhh.. it’s okay…” he whispered while coming up to kiss your neck again.

He pulled his fingers out of you, so that he could unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down. Few seconds without his fingers got you all whiny and desperate to feel him again. “Are you ready?” He said while stroking his cock a few times, even though it was hard already. “Yes.. please, be gentle..” you whined as he began to spread your folds.

He managed to only get the tip in, and you were already a moaning mess. He made sure he was being really gentle with you and always checking that you were okay. “Good girl. You’re doing so good.” He praised you as he started thrusting into you harder.

You kept gripping on the papers on his desk as you came closer to your orgasm. The way he was grunting and letting out small moans made you sure that he was close too. “Mm im gonna come-” he grunted in your ear as he sped up his thrusts. And that was it. You both came at the same time.

He waited for a small moment and before he pulled out,he kissed you on the lips again. ”my baby, you did so good. Tomorrow at the same time?” He asked as you pulled your panties back up. “That’s a deal.”you said and kissed him again.

[love-byers]

you know what's crazy?

i think most of us are aware that the song that plays over the monologue is titled "You're The Heart", but for a second lets think logically. if the monologue is truly just mike confessing is true love, and this is setting up for mlvn endgame, and there is no deeper connection or involvement of will's feelings, why is that the name of the track that plays through the entire duration of the monologue??

like think about that. the song doesn't begin until immediately after mike says the first "i love you!". that is what triggers the song to begin. nowhere in the duration of footage the song plays over in the episode does anyone say "You're The Heart". will said that several lines before the song began. kyle and michael (OST producers) know this. they watched the exact duration of footage that the song would be playing over probably over 100 times. so why when naming this song did their minds go to WILL'S line that is said well before the song begins?? a line that directly ties back to will expressing his deep seeded love for mike??? why not name it "I Love You" as mike said it multiple times during the duration of the song and it was what el had been asking for all season, or "You're My Superhero" since that line supposedly encapsulates everything mike feels about el and was said during the duration of the song?? no, it had to be will's line. will's line that was not even said during the duration of the song. they named a song that plays ONCE during the ENTIRE SHOW after a line that WAS NOT SAID DURING THE SONG. if mlvn are endgame and will get married and have babies and whatnot, why does will have ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS?????? why is will telling mike he's the heart more significant than anything from mike's grand declaration of love to el, which had a whole OST track made for it?????? well, we all know why, but we're called crazy when we say it, so the question still remains.

like just picture that. kyle and michael watched mike's monologue, watched him say i love you nine times, watching him say he fell in love with her at first sight, and said "we shall name this song You're The Heart!"

not "I Love You"

not "You're My Superhero"

not "Love"

not ANYTHING from mike's long ass monologue

no, it's "You're The Heart". it had to be "You're The Heart". it had to be a line not even said during the duration of the song, a line that is representative of will's love for mike. will's line. will, who mike asked to be his friend on the first day of kindergarten, who mike feels is the best thing he's ever brought into his life, who mike has a special relationship with, who mike jumps to defend, who mike cares for so much that he tried to fight his own bully because he said something bad about will, who's voice mike recognizes even though no one esle does, who mike is extremely attentive to to the point he is the only one to notice will is being slightly quieter than usual, who's floor mike slept on so he could be there for him, who's bedside mike slept by when he was unconscious in the hospital, who mike asked to go crazy with him, who mike always speaks softly to, who's hand mike held when he was afraid, who mike can't stand being on bad terms with, who mike jumps to apologize and take accountability without having to be told or instructed, who mike biked across town in the rain to apologize to, who made mike mike cheese just by saying he wouldn't find new friends, who ruined mike's ENTIRE day by simply being quiet and a bit moody, who mike feels is different than his other friends, who mike feels hawkins isn't the same without, who mike wants to be a team with, who mike chooses to stand next to when the world is ending right in front of them. it had to be will.

sorry, was that a bit overboard?

anyways i think you get my point lol

[idkanymark]

[ I hate the weather]

jeno x f!reader | jaemin x f!reader | love triangle

INTRO: You finally had Jeno, the boy you always wanted. But as time passed, your heart couldn’t ignore the pull you felt for Jaemin. The more you tried to change for Jeno, the more you realized the truth. It was Jaemin who had always held a piece of your heart.

Lowkey inspired by: Moth to flame by The Weeknd and Swedish House and Favourite crime by Olivia Rodrigo

----

“You should be happy” you tell yourself for the hundredth time, staring at the photo of you and Jeno on your phone. His arm draped protectively over your shoulders, his smile wide and carefree. You finally got what you always thought you wanted—a boyfriend who loved you, treated you well, and made you feel safe.

But then why does your heart ache every time Jaemin’s name pops into your mind?

It all started three months ago

Back then, it felt innocent. You had confessed your crush on Jeno to Jaemin, your best friend since childhood.

“You want me to do what?” Jaemin had asked, his voice incredulous.

“Help me” you pleaded. “Drop hints, invite him to hangouts—something.”

Jaemin frowned, his arms crossed as he leaned back on the couch. “I don’t know, Y/N. This sounds… weird.”

“It’s not weird” you countered. “Please, Jaemin. I just… I really like him.”

Jaemin had sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I want to see you happy.”

And he did try. He invited Jeno to your usual Friday movie nights, though the result wasn’t exactly smooth. You and Jaemin argued over movies, as always, and Jeno sat awkwardly in the middle, trying not to take sides.

Then there was the Dreamies’ hangout, where instead of impressing Jeno, you managed to catch Haechan’s relentless teasing instead. Still, you learned something important that night: Jeno liked blonde hair, and he seemed drawn to girls like Yoo Jimin.

That revelation sparked a change.

The next day, while hanging out at Jaemin’s place, you blurted out a question that had been gnawing at you.

“Should I dye my hair blonde?”

Jaemin looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. “Why? You hate blonde hair. Remember that movie we watched and you said ruined it for you?”

“Jeno likes blonde hair” you replied matter-of-factly.

Jaemin’s face darkened slightly, but he didn’t say much. “If you want to, go ahead. Just… make sure you’re doing it for you.”

A few days later, the transformation was complete. You stepped out of the bathroom at home with newly dyed blonde hair, nervously smoothing it down as you opened the door to Jaemin’s knocks.

“Y/N?”

When he saw you, he froze. His gaze lingered longer than usual, taking in your hair.

“What do you think?” you asked, doing a small twirl.

“You look good” he said finally, though his tone carried an edge you couldn’t place.

But as time went on, things started to change.

The more you learned about Jeno’s ideal type, the more you started changing to fit them. The more you tried to be the girl he would notice, the further you drifted from the version of yourself that Jaemin had always known.

You started wearing clothes that you knew Jeno would like—more fashionable, more polished. You dyed your hair blonde and even started wearing red lipstick too.

Jaemin noticed the changes. He’d watched you, his best friend, slowly morph into someone else—the someone Jeno would want, but the someone you weren’t. And it hurt.

One afternoon, you were getting ready to go out to another one of Jeno’s hangouts. You stood in front of Jaemin’s mirror, touching up your red lipstick while he watched you in silence. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

You glanced at him in the mirror, not fully focusing on his words. “Sure.”

“What’s this?” Jaemin asked, gesturing to the transformation with a sweeping motion.

“What’s what?” You were confused, still busy perfecting your lipstick.

“This” Jaemin repeated, his voice a little louder now. “The hair, the clothes, the parties—you’re not the same person anymore. You hate bold lipstick colors!”

You shrugged, applying the final coat of lipstick. “Oh, but Jeno likes it.”

The words hung in the air, and Jaemin visibly flinched. His expression shifted, his eyes clouded with hurt. “Why does it feel like I’m losing you?” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

But you didn’t respond. You didn’t know what to say. You were too busy watching Jeno, the boy you wanted.

That night, when Jeno finally noticed you the way you’d always hoped he would, Jaemin stood on the sidelines. He watched quietly, his heart sinking deeper as you slipped further away from him.

As the days passed, your relationship with Jeno, on the surface, seemed perfect. You went out on dates, spent time together in lavish places, and everyone around you admired how "ideal" the two of you were. But with each passing moment, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling deep in your chest, the one that whispered something’s not right.

Jeno, with his effortless charm and undeniable affection, was everything you thought you wanted, yet when you were with him, your mind would drift. You would catch yourself thinking about Jaemin—the way his presence brought a sense of calm, the way he always seemed to understand you without saying a word.

As the Friday nights turned into elegant dinners and crowded parties that weren’t quite your style, the memories of those simple movie nights with Jaemin, full of laughter and familiarity, started to feel like a lifetime ago. You hadn’t realized how much you missed them until it was too late. Jeno's world was exciting, but it was a world where you couldn’t always be yourself.

And so, you felt trapped. You loved Jeno, or at least you thought you did. But why did it feel like you were losing a piece of yourself every time you changed for him?

You tried to push it away—told yourself you should be happy. You had Jeno. He was everything you ever thought you wanted. But your heart wasn’t on the same page. Why did you still want to talk to Jaemin when you were sad, when you felt alone? Why, when you looked at your bedside table, did that photo of the two of you get your attention even when your boyfriend was right next to you? Why did you wish it was him laying beside you instead of Jeno?

It didn’t make sense. You had the attention you’d always craved, the validation, the relationship you’d fought for, but somehow... it felt hollow. You wanted to scream, to pull at the pieces of yourself that felt lost between the two of them.

You should’ve been happy. Why weren’t you?

----

Then the inevitable happened. Jeno and you had your first fight.

It wasn’t anything major, just a disagreement that spiraled out of control. You fought about something silly, but when his voice rose and he grew frustrated, something inside of you broke. For the first time, you saw the same tension you had witnessed at home. The yelling, the frustration, the way your parents had always argued when things went wrong.

It made you feel suffocated. Just like that day years ago. The day you ran away from home.

*FLASHBACK*

It was one of those nights where the air felt heavy, suffocating. The usual quiet of the house was shattered by the sound of raised voices—your parents. You had heard them argue before, but tonight felt different, louder, more desperate.

“I’m sick of this!” your mother shouted, the strain of her voice cutting through the walls. “I’m sick of you treating me like this, of everything we’ve become!”

Your father’s voice came back, sharp and defensive. “What do you want me to do? I’m trying my best! Do you think I’m not tired of this too?”

You sat on your bed, your heart racing, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping that if you just stayed quiet, it would stop. You wished for peace, for silence, but it didn’t come. The fighting only escalated, becoming uglier with each word.

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” your mother’s voice cracked with frustration. “I don’t want to keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not! You don’t care about me or this family anymore!”

“I care!” Your father’s voice boomed through the house. “I’ve been holding this family together, working, providing. And you just sit there and criticize me every chance you get!”

And then, you heard it. The word you dreaded most.

“I want a divorce!” Your mother screamed, the final blow.

“Y/N will stay with me!” Your father snapped back, trying to claim ownership over something you felt you had no say in.

“No! She’ll stay with me!” your mother insisted, her voice full of hurt and anger.

The sound of your name, spoken like a pawn in their war, broke you. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You didn’t care about the rain, the cold—everything just felt wrong. You needed to get away, to escape the suffocating air inside the house. You put on your shoes without thinking, ran past the door, and out into the storm.

The rain hit you hard as you ran through the streets, your legs aching from the effort, but you didn’t care. You had to leave. The cold felt almost comforting, numbing the pain that twisted inside of you.

It wasn’t long before Jaemin found you. You didn’t know how, or when, but you felt a soft tap on your shoulder and looked up to see him standing there, umbrella in hand, his concerned eyes searching yours.

“Y/N?” Jaemin’s voice was calm, but there was an undeniable worry in it. “What are you doing out here in the rain? You’ll catch a cold.”

You didn’t respond, your mind too clouded by the chaos you’d just run from. Jaemin didn’t push. Instead, he opened his umbrella wider and stepped closer to you, giving you his jacket without a word.

He sat down next to you, his presence quiet but grounding. There was no rush to fix things, no pressure to explain. He just let you be.

For a long time, neither of you said anything. The rain continued to fall around you, the only sound in the world. Jaemin broke the silence, his voice soft but knowing.

“It’s raining a lot lately” He wasn’t really talking about the rain. He was talking about everything—your parents, the fight, the storm inside your head and the way he found you crying in the middle of the street.

You took a deep breath, finally breaking your silence. “I hate the weather” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain.

Jaemin’s eyes softened. “I hate the weather too” he replied, his words holding more meaning than just a shared distaste for the rain. It was the quiet understanding between the two of you, the unspoken comfort.

Jaemin didn’t leave your side, not until you felt like you could breathe again.

When you were ready, he helped you back to your feet and led you back to your parents’ house.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

The rain was pouring down as you stepped outside, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t care about the weather, about the cold, or about getting wet. All you could feel was the weight on your chest, the pressure to be something you weren’t, to be the perfect version of yourself for Jeno.

You ran, just like you had all those years ago. Running from the noise, from the suffocation, from the fight that reminded you of everything that had been broken in your life.

You didn’t even notice where your feet were taking you. You just wanted to escape.

Meanwhile, Jeno was desperate. He’d searched everywhere but couldn’t find you. His last resort was calling the one person who always seemed to know where you’d be—Jaemin.

“Jaemin” Jeno’s voice cracked over the phone, “Y/N’s gone. We had a fight, and she ran off. Do you know where she might be?”

Jaemin’s heart sank. He didn’t need to think twice. “I’ll find her” he said firmly, hanging up and grabbing his car keys.

He knew exactly where you were.

----

When you found yourself standing on that familiar side street, drenched and shivering, you sank to the ground. The world felt too heavy, and you didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. You just wanted to disappear, to forget about everything—Jeno, the changes you’d made, the fight.

But then, like before, someone appeared.

Jaemin.

He had found you again, it was like stepping into a memory.

“Y/N” Jaemin said softly, rushing to your side and holding an umbrella over your head, just like he had years ago. “What are you doing out here in the rain? You’re not even wearing a jacket. You’ll catch a cold.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You just sat there, too exhausted to move. Jaemin slipped his jacket off and draped it over you, sitting down beside you in silence.

And for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel alone. You didn’t feel suffocated.

“Some things never change, huh?” Jaemin said, breaking the silence softly.

You looked at him, your heart aching as the rain soaked you both. “I hate the weather” you said, your voice barely audible.

Jaemin’s eyes softened as he replied, “I hate the weather too.”

For a while, you just sat there, both of you seeking comfort in the quiet, in the simple act of being there for each other.

Jaemin brought you back to your apartment, helping you inside with quiet care. When the door opened, Jeno was waiting. His eyes widened at the sight of you—soaked and shivering, wrapped in Jaemin’s jacket.

“Y/N!” he rushed over, his hands cupping your face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You didn’t respond. You pulled away gently, muttering, “I need a shower” before disappearing into the bathroom.

Jeno watched you leave, his expression a mix of guilt and confusion. When he turned back, he found Jaemin standing by the door.

“I don’t know what happened” Jeno confessed, his voice full of worry. “I didn’t mean to upset her. I just…”

“I think you should give her some space” Jaemin said quietly. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just… resigned.

Jeno nodded, though his face tightened. “Thanks for bringing her back.”

Jaemin didn’t reply. He just nodded, his gaze lingering on the closed bathroom door for a moment before he left.

While under the hot spray of the shower, you let the tears fall freely. You had everything you thought you wanted—Jeno, the perfect boyfriend, the dream relationship.

But as you stood there, your heart ached. Not for the boy waiting for you in the other room.

For the one who had found you in the rain.

For the one who had always found you.

----

The weeks after weren’t easy. A crack opened in your relationship with Jeno, and you began to pull away, unsure of what to say or how to explain the distance that was growing between you both. Jeno noticed, of course, but every time he asked, you brushed him off with excuses. The truth was, you weren’t sure how to explain the whirlwind of emotions inside you, or how to face the growing realization that your heart was no longer with him.

One cold night, Jaemin found you in front of his house, looking utterly broken.

“Y/N?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern. Without waiting for you to say a word, he pulled you into his arms. At first, you couldn’t even speak. The flood of emotions you had been keeping inside for weeks came pouring out. You started to cry in his embrace, shaking with the weight of it all.

Jaemin held you tighter, never letting go, whispering comforting words as you cried. He didn’t ask questions, just let you let it all out, feeling the raw emotion that you had carried for so long. When your sobs slowed down, he pulled back slightly, still holding you gently.

“Here” he said, handing you a steaming mug of hot chocolate—the one thing that always made you feel a little better when life felt too heavy. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you.

You took a sip, trying to steady your breathing, but it didn’t make the confusion inside you go away. Jaemin sat beside you, watching you silently. After a while, he asked quietly, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You hesitated, unsure if you had the strength to put it into words. But somehow, in his presence, it felt like you could say anything.

“I... I feel so lost” you whispered, the tears threatening to return. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I should be happy, but it’s like something inside me is telling me I’m not. I’m with Jeno, but... It doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know how to fix it.”

Jaemin didn’t say anything for a moment. His hand reached out, and he gently stroked your hair, his touch soft and comforting. “It’s okay” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’re going to be okay. Let it out. I’m here.”

The warmth of his words settled over you, but it was the closeness, the way he held you, that made everything else fade away. In that moment, everything felt like it finally made sense. You weren’t alone in this. You hadn’t been alone for a long time, but you had been too scared to admit it.

And in that silence, surrounded by his presence, the truth spilled from your lips.

“I— I’ve been trying so hard to make things work with Jeno, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it’s wrong, but it’s like... my heart is telling me that you’re the one I’ve always wanted. Not him. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Jaemin’s breath caught at your words, his gaze locking onto yours. He seemed surprised, but there was a sadness in his eyes, a softness that made your heart ache even more.

“Y/N” he began, his voice gentle but filled with emotion. “I’ve always loved you. You were just too obvious about it. Why do you think I’m still single, even when you know there are so many girls after me? I’ve always wanted you.”

The confession hung in the air, filling the space between you with a weight you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to lean in, to close the distance and let everything out, but something held you back. The reality of your relationship with Jeno, the guilt, the fear of what this would mean, kept you frozen.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his lips on your forehead“i want to kiss but I can’t... you’re still with him.”

Your heart clenched at the words. You knew he was right, but it didn’t make the truth any easier to accept.

“I know” you whispered, your voice shaky. “But I’m going to break up with him soon. I can’t keep lying to myself. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help how I feel.”

Jaemin’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the tension was almost unbearable. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes held everything—everything you had both been too scared to admit until now.

The lingering words between you both pulled you closer, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could finally breathe.

But Jaemin, with all his care for you, took a step back, his expression full of understanding. "Whenever you're ready, Y/N," he said quietly, "I'll be here. But you need to figure this out... for yourself."

And you realized in that moment, the hardest part wasn't admitting how you felt—it was knowing what you had to do next.

----

The day after your conversation with Jaemin, you invited Jeno over. It was time to be honest. Time to confront everything that had built up between you two, to explain how you had changed, how you had tried to mold yourself into the version of you that you thought he wanted.

Jeno sat across from you, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and hurt as he waited for you to speak. You took a deep breath before you started.

“Jeno, I... I’ve been pretending. I changed for you, thinking that this was what I had to do to get your attention,” you said, your voice trembling a little. “The hair, the clothes, the way I acted. It wasn’t me. It was just... a version of me that I thought you’d like.”

Jeno’s gaze softened, but there was disbelief in his eyes. “So I always loved a version of you that you created?” he asked quietly, his voice holding a tinge of sadness.

You nodded, unable to look him in the eye. “I thought that’s what I had to do to make things work with you.”

There was a long silence between you two as he processed your words. His fingers twitched slightly, as if he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t know how.

“But I don’t think that’s entirely true” Jeno said after a moment, his voice gentle yet firm. “I think there were a lot of times when you were just... you. The real you.”

You looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “That could be true” you whispered, your heart pounding. "But I didn’t know how to balance it. I thought I had to change to fit into this perfect image of what I thought you wanted."

Jeno’s expression grew more serious, his brow furrowing slightly. “But I won’t lie. I’m hurt, Y/N. I’m hurt that you felt like you had to change to get me to notice you.” His voice trembled with a mix of frustration and sadness. “I thought we were already fine just being ourselves around each other. I never needed that perfect version of you. I just needed you.”

The confession hit you harder than you expected. You hadn’t realized how deeply your attempts to change had affected him, how much he had cared for the person you were beneath the surface.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, your heart aching for him. “I never meant to hurt you. I just... I didn’t know what to do. I was confused.”

Jeno sighed, looking down for a moment, before meeting your eyes again. “I understand that you were confused, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It’s hard, Y/N. I thought we had something real, but now I’m wondering if I was just falling in love with a version of you that wasn’t even... you.”

His words stung, but there was an honesty to them that you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to reach out to him, to apologize again, but the words didn’t come.

“I think we both need to take a step back and figure things out” Jeno said softly, standing up from the couch. “I need time to process all of this... and so do you.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the situation press down on you. “Yeah... I think that’s the best thing to do.”

Jeno hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on you as if he wanted to say something else, but he just shook his head and walked toward the door. “Take care of yourself, Y/N” he said quietly before stepping outside, leaving you alone with the mess of emotions swirling inside.

You couldn’t help but feel like you had lost something important, but at the same time, you knew that it was the right thing to do.

-----

Seven months had passed since that moment, and in those months, you had done a lot of healing. After taking some time to yourself, focusing on finding out who you were without anyone else’s expectations weighing you down, you found the courage to follow your heart. And it led you to Jaemin.

You and Jaemin had been inseparable ever since you began dating, and eventually, it just made sense for you to live together. It was as if you'd been living with each other in spirit long before the move—always crashing at one another’s places, always finding comfort in each other’s presence.

Jaemin had been the one to convince you to adopt three cats—Luna, Lucy, and Luke—and you were honestly grateful. The apartment had become your little haven, complete with furry companions who brought so much life and joy into your days. The sound of purring had become one of your favorite melodies.

As you were preparing dinner one evening, you felt the familiar warmth of arms wrapping around you from behind. You couldn’t help but smile, already knowing who it was.

“Smells good.Do you need help?” Jaemin’s voice was soft, his breath warm against your ear.

You placed a hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly as you continued to chop the vegetables. “It’ll taste even better once it’s done” you said, a playful tone lacing your words. "You’ve been working hard today, haven’t you?"

Jaemin leaned in closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Not nearly as hard as you” he replied, his voice filled with admiration. "But I’m always happy to help, especially if it means being with you."

You let out a soft laugh, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze. "I’m glad you’re here” you whispered, feeling a warmth spread across your chest. "I wouldn’t want anyone else with me."

Jaemin’s smile softened, and he kissed your cheek gently. He looked at you with so much affection, as if the years you had spent together and all the feelings he'd kept inside were finally making sense. "I always knew you were the one” he murmured, his voice full of certainty. "I just didn’t know how long it would take for you to realize it, too."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. "I feel the same way” you said softly. "It took time, but I know now."

Jaemin pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth surrounding you as he whispered, "We’ve made it through everything, Y/N. And now, it’s just us, always."

It had taken time to get here, but now, everything felt right. The past was behind you, and the future, with Jaemin by your side, seemed full of endless possibilities. The love you shared was a quiet kind of happiness, built on trust, understanding, and shared moments that made everything feel so effortless.

No more doubts, no more pretending. Just you, Jaemin, and your three cats in your little world, exactly where you were meant to be.

"I wouldn't change this for anything in the world” you whispered, your hand finding his once again, squeezing it tightly.

Jaemin’s voice was steady and full of affection as he replied, "Neither would I, Y/N. Neither would I."

[worldly-fluster]

Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC! Reader

Part 1 of ?

*This will be Non-Canon BTW it starts with Dragon!Sylus and goes into normal Sylus*

Warnings: Blood, cussing...I think that's it lol

**non-mc but will be called MC because it's easier to write than (y/n) every time 👍**

-The Start of Something Normal-

-1st person POV- changes throughout**

Have you ever wondered if there was something...more?

Something other than going to a 9-5 and paying rent with all you earned, there must be something else.

At least I had my games right?

-

Today is weird.

Just weird.

Ever since I woke up from a weird dream, that I can't even remember, I've been randomly smelling flowers.

Checked the LADS game, flowers.

Got ready for work, flowers.

Delt with customers, flowers.

But I'm the only one smelling it?

Maybe it's the stress, I'll just have to take melatonin when I get home.

-

As I walked through the front door of my apartment, coming home after a long day at work, I was greeted by dark silence. I hate living alone...

I sighed as I placed my keys on the shelves by my door and threw my heavy jacket on top of them. I limped slightly into my living room/kitchen, my feet hurting from standing all day. When I reached the couch, my nose was assaulted by the smell of flowers once again causing me to groan.

"What the fuck... Bruh." I plopped down on the cheap leather futon with a weeze, reaching for the bottle of melatonin gummies I threw on there the other night.

Popping two into in my mouth, I grabbed the iPad next to the bottle and opened up the Love and Deepspace app.

I smiled when I saw Sylus show up immediately on the screen, my heart doing a badump as I sang quietly along to the intro.

Finally getting onto the game, I went to the daily login that I forgot to get this morning, ignoring Zayne standing there in his Panda onesie.

After completing the normal, I didn't know what to do, so I went to check the memories. Only then did I remember I never actually watched the new Dragon Sylus cards...

From what I heard about them it seemed traumatizing. But I guess if I had nothing else to do?...I'm gonna regret it aren't I.

The smell of flowers hit my nose again, even stronger than before, when I tapped the first one I saw called 'Abyssal Blossom'.

As the memory loads, the iPad glitches and shuts off. Maybe I forgot to charge it and it died? The smell of flowers is almost overwhelming, as if I'm standing in a field full of them.

I started feeling tired, so tired that I could hardly stand up so I decided to just sleep for a while on the futon. I fell asleep quickly.

-

This dream?...felt familiar...and too real.

The scent of the flowers made more sense here, the field looking familiar...oh its almost exactly like the flower field you can see in one of Sylus' Dragon cards.

What was the name of it again? Abyssal something...

Oh whatever, these flowers are nice. The scent kinda comforts me, almost like a mix of vanilla citrus? With a slight hint of herbal lavender I think... I don't know I'm bad with identifying stuff.

This dream is quite detailed though, the flowers, the dirt, the nice cool breeze and warm rays of sun on my skin...wait, what's that? Looks like something flying in the sky? A big bird maybe...it's coming closer? Oh shit, what the fuck-?!

The air was knocked out of my lungs as I was picked up and yoinked through the air.

"Are you here to try to kill me?"

I blinked up at the...man? Are we flying??

"No?"

I wheezed out my answer, it sounding more like a question in my shock as I clung onto him. The man? narrowed his eyes at me.

Are those red eyes? And horns? Why does he look like Sylus?? Wait, Dragon Sylus???

He seemed to search my face for something, his own relaxing a bit as he found what he was looking for.

"Then why are you in my territory?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here..."

"Woke up here? Who, in their right mind, would come into my territory for any reason?"

"I don't know...I just remember falling asleep at home and waking up in this field. It's beautiful by the way."

"Hm..."

"What should I call you? I'm MC."

"...Stayrus*" (Something that sounds similar lol)

"...How about Sylus?"

"Do what you want. It'll be up to me whether I answer or not."

"So...where are you taking me?"

"To my home, where I will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh okay."

"Don't get any ideas human. I'm bored and I have been waiting for something interesting."

"I mean, I figured. No one just goes out and picks up a random stranger without being a little bored."

He grunts as he continues flying through the sky.

He brought me to a cave opening at the top of a deep canyon, he sat me down and lightly pushed me inside.

"You will be staying here until I say so."

"Alrighty. Any rules?"

"No...you are oddly okay with this."

"Well," I shrug, "it's either this or fend for myself in an unfamiliar place outside."

-

"Sylus?"

"..."

"Um...Stayraytus??"

"That was terrible."

"Sorry..."

"..." He sighs, "What is it?"

"So...I have zero survival skills...can you teach me how to survive here? Please?"

"...child."

"Yes...sorry."

-

It's been about a week since Sylus, yes he started answering to it, let me stay in his 'home'. He started teaching me some survival things, like how to find food, telling me to ask him first if the thing is edible. Other than that, it was...boring.

In my boredom, while Sylus lay on the cool cave floor surrounded by gold, I started stretching.

Touching my toes, bending to the side, balancing on one foot like a flamingo...you name it, I was trying to do it.

I was in the downward dog position when Sylus spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...yoga?"

"...yugo."

"Pffft-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "it's Yo-gah."

"...why are you doing whatever that's called?"

"It's so my body doesn't get stiff."

"...how old are you?"

"23."

"..."

"...Don't you dare say it."

Sylus grunted as he went back to messing with his golden lamp thing.

After a bit of silence he spoke.

"I'm 27."

I looked up at him in a little surprise.

"Really? You look my age honestly."

"hm."

-

We were sitting by the entrance of the cave, watching the sunset, when Sylus broke the silence.

"Your hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair? Is there knots? I swear I got them all out earlier..."

"No, it's just different."

"What do you mean?"

"everyone I've ever seen had lighter hair...yours is darker. It's...pretty."

My face felt hot as I turned away from him.

"Oh, thank you...no one's said that about me before."

"Why not?"

I shrug.

"I'm sure that you get called pretty, beautiful, every time someone sees you, I mean, you're pretty attractive...I'm going to shut up now..."

There was a bit of silence until he spoke, looking over my face.

"No one has ever called me any of those things before..."

"Oh...well I still think you are. Those people are just blind."

"...Thank you."

I smile at him.

"Any time."

A comfortable silence settled over us but I couldn't take my eyes off of him if I tried. His hair looked so soft and fluffy...

"Hey Sylus?"

"Hm?"

"Can I...touch your hair?"

He looked questioningly at me, one of his brows raised.

"Why?"

"It looks so soft, but you don't need to say yes. I was just curious."

Sylus looked to the side, seeming to think for a moment before he looked down with a small smile, giving a small nod before he lay stretched out and placed his head on my lap, careful of his horns.

I let out an excited hum as I carefully ran my fingers through his hair, my nails slightly scratching his scalp. He grunted, not really used to this type of contact but...he thinks he can get used to this.

Sylus closed his eyes as he felt your hands work their way through his hair, around the base of his horns gently and lightly rubbing behind them in the hard to reach places. His chest felt warm, his heart fluttering as all he could think about were your hands, the warmth of your thighs...

He could definitely get used to this.

-

It seemed winter was fast approaching as the cave seemed to get colder, frost covering the edges of the entrance. I sat snuggled into Sylus' side.

"...What are you doing?"

"It's cold, it's called cuddling for warmth."

"... do as you wish."

His tail gently curled around us, pushing me just a bit closer.

"...it is getting colder out. We'll have to get you something warmer."

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're warm enough so I'll just have to stay right here."

Sylus grunted, his tail wrapping just a bit tighter. Just enough for me to notice.

-

The next day, Sylus was gone for a little while. I had to stay warm by my own makeshift fire, the dry sticks that were just by the edge of the cave entrance being my fuel.

While I waited for Sylus to get back I watched as the smoke went up through a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, wondering, how long have I been here? Where he could have gone? ...how much longer will I be allowed to stay?

After just a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his powerful wings as he landed at the entrance. He was holding a big bundle of... something.

He walked over to me and just, dumped what he was holding onto my head.

"Mph?!"

"This should work."

His tail moved the pile of burning sticks to the side before I could accidentally fall onto it with his gift still suffocating me.

Seeing me still struggling with it, he chuckled and plucked one blanket off my head letting me poke my head out of the pile.

"Guh! Why you do this?"

"English Sweetie."

"What is this?"

"Blankets, for warmth."

"...Thank you Sylus."

"Hm. Now scooch over, I'm cold."

"You're literally a walking furnace?"

"... I'm cold."

"Just say you wanna cuddle."

"...cuddle me."

-

As winter gave way to spring, the flowers started blooming again. The change in temperature seemed to make Sylus stir crazy.

I let out a squeal as his thick tail wrapped around my waist and pulled me along.

"Sylus! No!"

"Sylus yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to see the flowers or not?"

"...fine. But if you drop me, I will haunt you."

-

After a short flight, Sylus landed at the field of flowers he found me in. I looked around, having not had the chance to fully look around before being whisked away, when I saw something that made me gasp.

"Oh! Look, there are Snapdragon's!"

I moved towards them, Sylus staying close to my side.

"What? There aren't any other dragons here."

"No not actual dragons, Sy, they're a type of flower."

I move so he could see it better.

"This is a snapdragon!"

"That looks nothing like a dragon."

"It kinda does, see? This is it's eyes, nose, horns, and this!"

I push the sides of the flower together, making a small opening into the flower.

"Is it's mouth! Cool right?"

"... dragons don't open their mouth just because you touch their cheeks."

"These ones do. Try it! It's fun."

"Fine."

I watched as he moved his claws around the flower, actively trying not to damage it, but failing.

"Sylus you have to be gentle." I giggle as he accidentally crushes the flower between his claws.

"Here, use the pads of your fingers instead."

I hold his hands as I help him gently open the Snapdragon's mouth. His breath seemed to stutter as he let me guide his hands.

"There, you did it!"

"Hmm..."

In a small burst of confidence, I giggle and lift my hands to his face where I gently press on his cheeks.

"Good job!"

His eyes widen slightly and out of reflex, or shock, his mouth slightly opens.

"You know, you're my big Snapdragon."

-

After we made our way back to the cave, I had a thought.

"What if I end up going back some day?"

"Back where?"

"My home, like how I woke up here, will I one day wake up back home?"

Sylus seemed to stiffen a bit as he looked towards me, eyes searching my face.

"...do you want to go back home."

"I don't know, some days I miss home but most days I forget."

"I understand...what if you never go back?"

"Then I hope you'll let me stay?"

"I'll be here."

There is a long comfortable silence as we watch the sunset from the mouth of the cave once again. I took in a big breath of the freshest air I'll ever have and enjoy the moment.

"Sylus? Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"If I do end up leaving somehow, I want you to find things that make you happy, not just surviving but living."

His tail flicks a bit behind us.

"...fine, as long as you promise the same."

-

A few days later we were at the flower field once again.

The sun set and we continued to sit amongst the flowers after a long day of lazing around. The stars slowly came out one by one.

While I watched the stars it reminded me of a song that gets stuck in my head.

"You and I stargazing...intertwining souls..."

I quietly sang, trying not to disturb the quiet night.

While I looked at the stars and the moon that hung beautifully, Sylus looked my way with a slightly raised brow, curious.

"What's that?

He whispered his question, his rough voice surprisingly soft.

I gave a small hum, still looking at the night sky.

"it's a song from my home... sitting here under the stars reminded me of it."

"Hm..."

"You know...the moon is very beautiful tonight."

"...yeah, it is."

He couldn't seem to look away from you, watching the moon and stars that reflected in your eyes.

-

I heard birds chirping as I slowly woke up from a comfortable sleep, feeling warm. I could smell flowers still. I tried to turn but a weight on my side stopped me.

I heard a deep grunt as the weight tightened around me and pulled me closer. A second weight being added onto my legs, seeming to curl around and in between them.

I groggily opened my eyes to be met with a familiar shiny red jewel, just barely grazing my nose. I moved my hands up from their place by my stomach up to the jewel. I leaned my face into the jewel and snuggled closer.

I could feel a soft rumbling coming from the dragon I was cuddled to, having realized it was him from the warmth he gave me.

"It seems we fell asleep..."

His voice was deep from sleep, his clawed hands pulling me closer. The scent of flowers being drowned out by his smell. Scent like a bonfire and leather.

"We're still in the field?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake you."

I felt his warm breath on the top of my head, taking in my own scent.

He...he's definitely used to this. He never wants to let you go. You gave him a warmth he thought he would never receive, showed him care and treated him not as the monster everyone screams he is. With you, he's not a Fiend. He's Sylus, your Snapdragon.

-**

It was only a few moments...

That's all it took.

One second, you both were walking through the field towards home when there was a sharp sound. Sylus reacted almost immediately, dodging the claymore that sliced into the dirt where he was just seconds ago.

He barely let out a breathe before the assailant attacked again. He dodged once more before he heard.

"Sylus! Help!"

His head snapped towards the direction of your voice. What he saw made his blood boil. You were being pinned to the ground by a big burly, ugly, man.

"I got you!"

In his moment of distraction, the one attacking him hit him with something like magic. Golden chains wrapped around him, pinning him down. He heard a laugh as a woman walked into his sight, she was a sorceress and she had an overconfident smirk on her face.

"Time to face your fate, Fiend!" She laughed out, "honestly, I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

"Fate?! What fate?!"

Sylus heard you struggling, making him start to struggle as well so he can get you out of here.

"Now now," the sorceress tutted towards him, then turned towards you, "His fate is to die by my claymore. Simple."

"That's his fate?! Bullshit!"

"You can't change fate-"

"Like fuck I will!"

You cut her off, just as you knocked the large man off of you with a quick kick to the groin. When you were free you threw yourself between her and Sylus.

"Just watch me."

You smirked as you watched her eyes widen and she took a step back.

"MC! No!"

Sylus struggled with the golden chains of magic holding him down.

"Don't worry Snapdragon...I got this."

"Stop! This is not-"

"Too late, already did."

-**

I grunt as the claymore goes through my chest, I can feel the intense pain for only a moment before it seems to disappear. The claymore is lodged in my chest, a ringing going through my ears. Sylus' eyes widen as it feels all the air is taken from his lungs when he sees the end of the claymore exit your back.

"MC!"

"Hahaha! Now what are you going to do Fiend?!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

I heard a growl and the sound of something breaking but my mind goes a little fuzzy as a fight rages on, roars of anger and grunts reach my ears along with the sounds of a blade and claws. I could faintly hear the sound of tearing flesh.

All I could do was stare at the claymore still embedded in my chest, my hands too shaky and weak to pull it.

For a moment I thought the last things I would hear was the fight until-

"MC-"

Sylus slides over to me, his bloodied claws gently holding me. His wounds are already healing over as his panicked eyes look me over.

"MC, she's gone, you don't have to worry now. I got you."

"Sy..."

"Shit..." His voice grew hoarse, his eyes and hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out a way to help. He seemed to find an idea as his brow set in determination.

"We need to resonate, my healing could help you but we need to resonate, now."

I nod slightly and he grabs my hand gently with one of his as his other gently tries to remove the claymore. I could feel his claws shake a little as he closed his eyes but I didn't want to close my eyes yet. I didn't want it to be the last time I did, so I watched as his power and a power I didn't know I had, connected. When I concentrate I can feel his anger, his fear, and something else I couldn't place. I watched as the claymore fell out of sight, his now free hand coming up to cup my face.

He leaned closer, our foreheads lightly touching.

I could almost feel my flesh mend, but the pain was numb to me as I kept my eyes on his face. I saw his brows furrow, his lips thin in what looks like pain-our shared pain, his eyes stayed closed in concentration.

After a moment more, I felt complete. I let out a sigh as the resonation slowly disappeared, my eyes fluttering closed a moment before I fixed them onto him. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, his nose grazing mine as his eyes locked on mine.

"You aren't going anywhere. Not without me. We live together and we die together. Only you can kill me, and I you."

There is a slight glow to his eyes and the gem in his chest as he stares into my eyes, into my soul.

"Sylus-"

"You're stuck with me. Who else will teach me about your home?"

I shake my head with a giggle.

"What would I do without my Snapdragon?"

"Hm..."

"I'd probably die."

He glared at me for even joking about it, his hand gripping mine a little harder. The hand on my cheek pressed against me, forcing my forehead to press onto his a little more.

"Even if I wasn't here, I would do everything to make sure you stay by me."

"That doesn't even make sense." I laugh.

"You know what I mean." He smiles as you bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb of his cheek to get some dirt off. He leaned into your touch, his eyes full of warmth as he continued to stare into your eyes.

After a moment I pull away and stand, Sylus standing as well. I look around at the now destroyed field, a pang of sadness hits my heart...

As both of us take in the aftermath, an oddly familiar scent hits my nose...when suddenly my body starts to glow slightly.

"Wait, Sylus what's happening?"

"I don't know, come here."

This feeling I get from the soft glow feels familiar...my eyes widen when I realize, the smell...

"Sylus!"

"MC?!"

We reach out to each other but the moment his clawed hand touches my hand, a bright light shines and I'm gone.

-**

Nothing is left of her as the light completely disappates

"MC?!"

Sylus turns this way and that, wanting- needing to see just a glimpse of her. His tail whipping around wildly as he floats around in a panic, clawed hands reaching for something, anything.

"MC!...Where..."

Sylus stops for a moment, slowly landing on the cold ground beneath him before collapsing to his knees.

He throws his head back as he lets out the most broken yell that could be heard for miles.

He looked to the side when he ran out of breath, his chest heaving as he let out a whimper. He saw that claymore, laying coldly on the dirt. Your blood still covered it, your scent still on it...

A few tears fell from his eyes as he reached out and gripped the handle. He pulled it towards him, curling around it slightly on the ground.

He lay there for what felt like forever to him, in the very flower field he met you...the flowers mostly crushed by the ambush of the sorceress that was sent to kill him with this very claymore.

When he finally had the energy to move, he went back to your shared cave, claymore in hand. Seeing the entrance made his flight stutter, knowing you won't be there to welcome him home...

He landed at the opening, he stepped heavily inside.

He saw your pile of blankets, the small fire pit you built, the little trinkets you collected from his horde that he let you have...

He stabbed the claymore into his old sleeping place then made his way towards the small stream that runs through the edge of the cave. He used the water from the steam to clean the blood off of him, yours, his, that damned sorceress...

After he was cleaned and dried off with the cloth you used to use, he made his way to your pile of blankets.

Sylus collapsed into them, burying himself in your scent, a wine leaving his throat as he held tightly onto what was left of you.

The dragon is lost without his master...

[scary-grace]

Off-Script (Act 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Act 1 Act 2

Act 3

The party’s in full swing, and even though you’ve been here for an hour at most, Tomura’s already ready to kill Spinner for forcing him to invite you. You’re the only actor at the party. Everyone keeps asking you why you aren’t at the other party, and Tomura’s getting really sick of listening to you explain that you aren’t important enough to go to that one. Once it’s been established that you’re a nobody like the rest of them, one of two things happens. If the person you’re talking to is a woman, they ask you about the fight scene you filmed with Tomura. If you’re talking to a guy, he asks you to dance – and you say yes.

Tomura thought you’d dance with him, since he’s the one who invited you. He made the mistake of saying that to Magne, who switched out the beer in his hand for the double Malibu shot she was holding and told him that unless he’d asked you to go to the party with him specifically, he hadn’t asked you out. Then Twice came by, stole Tomura’s Malibu shot and replaced it with a Long Island Iced Tea, and informed him that just because you play a mind reader in a movie doesn’t mean you can do it in real life.

Tomura threw down half the Long Island in one swallow and almost gagged. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s not gonna know you want to dance with her unless you ask her to dance,” Twice said. Magne nodded sagely. “So ask her to dance. Or – do that, I guess! That works too!”

Tomura had just finished off the rest of the Long Island. Twice patted him on the pack and he almost threw up. “Go get ‘em, Shigaraki! Or go home!”

Tomura thought about going home. Then he decided that he wanted to be drunker first, so he went back to the makeshift bar for something a little less instantly neurotoxic. But that hit pretty fast, too, and it hit hard enough that Tomura decided to sit down rather than try to walk to the shuttle stop and pass out on the way. So that’s what he’s been doing instead of dancing or talking or even drinking more. Sitting on a rock and watching the only actor at the party make herself at home.

Spinner sits down on the rock next to Tomura. Tomura tries to shove him off. “No. Go away.”

Spinner gets comfortable. “Heard anything from Dabi yet?”

Tomura fumbles his phone out of his pocket to check. “Nothing. He’s going to text you, not me. You’re the nice one.”

“Not hard to be, when you’re the one saying shit like I don’t care about this,” Spinner says. Tomura rolls his eyes and gets dizzy. “Look, it was – not great – when you were just being a dick to her. Now you’re being a dick to everybody.”

“It’s your fault for making me invite her.”

“Nope,” Spinner says. “You’ve been in a shitty mood about this since you guys filmed that scene. We all think you should just –”

“Ladies, and those of you who are not ladies, eyes up front!”  Yamada’s in Present Mic mode, which gives Tomura a headache on his best day. “It’s been brought to my attention that everyone is now sufficiently wasted enough for us to begin – drumroll! – the karaoke contest! Who’s up first!”

Nobody wants to be up first, like usual. The first round of the karaoke contest is usually just people bullying their friends onto the stage. Tomura turns to glare at Spinner. “If you even think about it –”

“I wouldn’t do that to you!” Spinner actually looks insulted. “We’re best friends, not mortal enemies!”

“Since you all are being shy, I’m going to pick a volunteer,” Present Mic announces. It’s not volunteering if somebody makes you do it. “And I’m picking somebody who has the pipes for this for sure! Give it up for Jiro Kyoka, who’s going to give us her best Dolly Parton impression on Jolene!”

Jiro smacks Present Mic on her way up to the makeshift stage, and he’s apologizing right up until the music starts. Tomura doesn’t know why, and neither does Spinner, but Jiro’s a good singer even when she’s had a few. The next person who goes up is Mirio, who’s tone-deaf on zero drinks but has had enough to volunteer himself. Attention grabs aren’t really Tomura’s thing – he’d prefer to go unnoticed most of the time – but he knows why the crew gets so into it. They spend all day doing ridiculous amounts of work, only for the actors to get all the credit if the movie does well. If they want to clown around, he’s not going to blame them.

“Room for one more?”

Tomura jumps and so does Spinner. It’s you, holding a water bottle and looking sort of tired. “Go for it,” Spinner says, shoving Tomura to the side and scooting away himself. “Right there.”

You sit down next to Tomura. Tomura hasn’t said a word to you since you got here. He looks around for something to say and comes up with something stupid. “You don’t want to show everybody up at karaoke?”

“If Yamada calls on me I’ll go up,” you say. “If he doesn’t, I’d just look like an asshole for grabbing the spotlight.”

“Isn’t that all actors do? Grab the spotlight?”

“Do you actually want it?” you ask Tomura. Tomura blinks. “You and the other stunt guys are closer to the spotlight than anybody else here. Why stay out of it?”

“That’s the stupidest question anyone’s ever asked me.” Tomura thinks that’s probably an overstatement, but he’s also on the not-fun side of drunk, so he’s giving himself a pass. “Why do you think?”

“So you’re telling me that if I waved a magic wand and changed your face to whatever you think it’s supposed to look like, you’d suddenly want to be famous?”

Tomura should have been paying less attention to who you were dancing with and more to what you were drinking, because while he’s pretty trashed, you’re sober. He’s miscalculated, big-time. “It’s not a trick question,” you say. “I just want to know why you pick on people for chasing something that you don’t even want.”

“Because it’s a waste of time for most of you,” Tomura says. Spinner protests, but Tomura ignores him. You came over here. You started it. “For every big star there’s a thousand people paying union dues who will be extras for their entire careers. How long do you plan on hanging out waiting for a big break that’s not going to happen? Find something else to do that’s – not that – and stop running around getting all starry-eyed. It’s pathetic. Sue me for being annoyed.”

Silence falls. “I’m getting another drink,” Spinner says. “Want anything, Psylocke?”

You shake your head. “I want one,” Tomura says, but Spinner ignores him. Like it’s his fault, somehow, when inviting you was Spinner’s idea in the first place. You haven’t said anything yet. Tomura replays what he just said to you, and guilt strikes him like a sandbag to the back of the head. “Uh –”

“Did you ever think it’s because we love it?”

“Huh?”

“If I was doing this to be famous, I’d have quit a long time ago,” you say. You pass your water bottle to Tomura and lean back on your hands, head tipped to look up at the sky. “Most of us aren’t stupid, or naïve. We know what our odds are like. Making it on the acting side – theatre, movies, TV, whatever – takes getting lucky. Or it takes knowing somebody who knows somebody who owes your mom a favor.”

That’s how Dabi got into it. His dad’s rich, his dad owns a production company, and his dad got him a bit part in some spy movie when he was thirteen that launched his entire career. Dabi’s career is Tomura’s career, so Tomura doesn’t bitch about it. Besides, Dabi’s good at it. But lots of people are good at it. Being good at it doesn’t mean shit, even when it should.

“I know it’s not going to happen,” you say. “Getting steady work is an achievement all on its own, and even that doesn’t pay the greatest. I could make more money doing almost anything else. But I really like what I do. The win for me is getting to do the thing I love every day.”

Tomura tries to wrap his head around that one. It doesn’t work. “Actors want to be famous. That’s why they’re actors.”

“There are other ways to get famous,” you point out. “Do the right kind of porn and you’ll get famous in a hurry.”

Tomura nearly chokes on thin air. “If I wanted money, I’d do something else. If I wanted fame, I’d do something else,” you say. “That leaves you two possible answers. Either I’m really stupid, or I really love what I’m doing. What do you think it is?”

“You’re not stupid,” Tomura says, still coughing. He twists the cap off the water bottle and sucks down a few swallows. “Except maybe for sitting here and putting up with my shit.”

“I’m still trying to figure out what I did to piss you off.” You take the water bottle – your water bottle, Tomura remembers too late – and take a few sips before handing it back. “Is it really just that I’m new?”

“No.” Tomura can’t even remember why. No, he can. “It wasn’t you at first. It was supposed to be Dabi’s fight and he made me do it instead, so I was pissed. And you wouldn’t take the stupid compliment, so I was pissed about that, too.”

“And right now?”

“Who said I’m pissed at you right now?”

“You, five minutes ago, when you were calling me and ninety percent of the actors in the world stupid and naïve,” you say. “What did I do this time?”

Even though Tomura’s starting to sober up, the alcohol smacks him one last time, and it’s a critical hit. “Danced with everybody but me.”

It’s quiet for a second. Then you get to your feet in a smooth, fluid motion that Tomura probably can’t even accomplish sober. “Okay. Now I need that drink.”

You don’t invite Tomura to come with you, but he follows you anyway as you make your way back towards the party. Partway there you stop and he walks into you. You twist around to face him. “You’re mad because I didn’t dance with you? You didn’t ask.”

“I asked you to the party with me, didn’t I?” The sooner Tomura finds something to lean against, the better. He might be sober enough to know he fucked up, but he’s still pretty drunk. Not drunk enough to forget what Magne told him. “If this is just because I didn’t use the exact words –”

“No, it’s because you’ve spent the last two weeks acting like you hate me,” you say. Tomura wants to say you’re exaggerating, but given that Toga and Spinner both called him out, he can’t really say that or anything else. “Now you want to dance? What am I supposed to do with that except get trashed?”

At least now you’re both on the same subject. “Dance.”

“Do you even dance?” You give Tomura a skeptical look. “I don’t know if you can keep up with me.”

Maybe this is how you felt when Tomura acted like you couldn’t swordfight. “I can dance. I was going to go easy on you –”

“Oh, shut up.” You grab Tomura’s hand and pull him towards the dance floor. Tomura barely has time to ditch the empty water bottle before the crowd closes ranks around the two of you, locking you in.

Tomura knows how to dance. More accurately, sober Tomura knows how not to dance, and avoiding that looks enough like knowing how to dance that he can get by. But that’s when he’s sober. When he’s drunk and there’s someone who clearly knows what they’re doing standing in front of him, he’s got absolutely nowhere to hide.

He studies you, trying to see if he can copy your moves, but you don’t really have distinct moves. What you’ve got is pinpoint control over every part of your body, which is what Tomura has, except instead of using it to make it look real when you have to fake getting shot, you’re using it to make dancing look like it’s what you were designed to do. He’d never know you dislocated a rib today if he hadn’t seen the bruise. All he can see is how your moves match the music, how confident you look. It’s hot. Tomura doesn’t think you’re trying to be hot, but he’s still not sober, and he’s paying way too much attention to everything your hips and your ass are doing. He’s supposed to be dancing, too. How is he supposed to look away from that?

Someone bumps into him, and he stumbles forward a few steps, right into your personal space. It doesn’t throw you off even slightly. “I was wondering when you were going to join in,” you say, barely audible over the music. Probably only audible because you’re pressed up against him and your mouth’s barely brushing his ear. “Is this you going easy on me?”

Tomura thinks he could be the best dancer on the planet and he still wouldn’t be able to compete with you. His hands come up of their own accord and settle on your waist, like the two of you are slow-dancing at a junior prom, completely out of sync with the music. You laugh, quiet and dark, but you wrap your arms around Tomura’s neck and rise on your toes to whisper in his ear again. “Pretend we’re fighting.”

You were just fighting. Weren’t you? It takes Tomura a second, but once he gets it, he gets it, along with a rush of adrenaline that’s absolutely insane. He pulls you in tight against him and you lean in, lining your body up with his centimeter by centimeter, limb by limb. One of your arms peels away from around his neck and traces down along the line of his shoulder, and Tomura raises his arm to match, ready to catch your hand by the time you reach his wrist.

Once he takes it, you spin out and away from him, like the two of you are ballroom dancing or some shit. But you come back closer than before, your back pressed to Tomura’s chest, leaning against him. Still holding his hand.

The handholding is fucking with Tomura’s head. He lets go and wraps both arms around your waist, and you twist in his grip to face him, a moment before tipping sideways on purpose. Tomura knew you were going to do it. He felt you telegraph it, the same as you did during the fight scene, and he’s ready to catch you. It looks like you’re ballroom dancing – again – and Tomura’s friends are probably losing their shit watching it, if they’re watching – but you trust Tomura to catch you, and he does.

He sees a smile cross your face before he pulls you back up, and you instantly tip the other way. He’s not as ready for that one, but it doesn’t matter as much, because you’re hooked one leg over his hip and caught yourself.

It’s like you want to break Tomura’s brain. Fuck it. If you’re fighting, he can fight back. He wraps one hand around your back to help you up, but he catches the crook of your knee with his other hand and pulls you tight against him. He feels you startle; then you lean into him again, not quite grinding on him but close enough that his cock doesn’t notice a difference. Or it wouldn’t, if Tomura hadn’t drunk so much earlier. He’s never been so thankful for whiskey dick in his life.

He doesn’t let go of your leg, and you don’t pull away. You wrap your arms around Tomura’s neck again and you tilt your head, studying him, your gaze flicking downwards, then back up. Tomura’s pretty sure you were looking at his mouth, and with your head tilted like that – do you want him to kiss you? Is that why you’re looking at him like that? If he’s reading this wrong, he’s going to fuck everything up, whether he kisses you or not. So he might as well get one kiss in. Tomura squares his shoulders beneath your hands and leans in.

“Hey!”

It’s possible that Tomura’s never been as pissed off at anybody as he is at Spinner right now. Spinner’s standing right there, looking sort of panicked, and you pull away from Tomura instantly, clearly embarrassed. “What?” Tomura shouts at Spinner. It’s lucky that the music’s loud. He can get away with shouting. “What the fuck is –”

Spinner holds up his phone, the screen brightness cranked to maximum. Dabi’s texted – both of them, only Tomura didn’t notice, because he was with you. get me the fuck out of here right now

Shit. Spinner turns and heads off the dance floor, and Tomura follows him. He grabs your hand on the way, so you won’t think he’s ditching you completely, and instead of pulling away, you come along. Once the three of you are clear of the dancers, Spinner turns to Tomura. “If he texted us, that means it’s bad,” he states. Tomura’s not going to argue. “I’m too drunk to drive.”

“So am I,” Tomura says. For a little while longer at least. “If we wait fifteen minutes or something –”

“He said right now,” Spinner says. “It’ll take fifteen minutes at least to get there. He fucked himself over in thirty seconds last time.”

Thirty seconds is generous. Dabi’s managed to get himself into cops-calling trouble in fifteen seconds or less before. Tomura didn’t want to be involved in Dabi’s sobriety, but he didn’t want to fuck him over, either, and this qualifies. That’s not even mentioning what’s going to happen to his career if Dabi drops out of this movie. “We blew it,” Spinner says, his face ashen. “He’s never going to forgive us –”

You tug lightly at Tomura’s hand. “I can drive.”

Tomura looks at you. So does Spinner. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” you say, “but I can tell it’s urgent. I don’t need to know what’s going on to be your designated driver.”

“You didn’t drink?” Spinner asks. You shake your head. “Great. Can you drive stick?”

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt

Part 4

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

CW: the first part of this is straight up 18+, mdni. I will put that part in italic if you decide to skip it.

Schlatt watches in awe as you ride him. He lets out a hoarse moan every time you clench around him. “Does that feel good, baby boy? You like when I squeeze your cock? Such a good boy letting me ride you like this,” you praise him.

His big hands are glued to your hips as he assists you in bouncing on his dick. “Fuck you feel so good, Toots. You’re so tight,” he groans.

You lean down to kiss his opened mouth. You continue to ride him until you’re moaning his name. “Jay. Jay. Schlatt!” You yell except for the voice is not from you riding him but you laying beside him in reality.

Schlatt’s eyes shoot open. He looks to see what is going on in front of him. His arms have made their way around your waist and his erect bulge is pressed against your ass. He quickly gets off of you. “Oh my god, (Y/N). I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, covering himself up with his blanket.

“It’s fine. You were just holding on to me really tight and you seem to have a bit of a problem you may want to deal with,” you tell, looking at his bottom half.

He quickly gets up. “Yeah. Once again I’m so sorry.” Schlatt rushes to his bathroom, locks the door then takes the coldest shower he possibly can. He can’t believe that not only did he cuddle you in his sleep, he also tried to fuck you. He knew sharing a bed was a very bad idea, but he couldn’t have Ted be the one cuddling you. Speaking of Ted, what the fuck was his deal last night? Why was he actively flirting with you like some girl he met at a bar in LA.

Schlatt quickly gets out of the shower, throwing on whatever clothes he can find. He sees you still on his bed, scrolling on your phone. You look up at him. “They must have been some hottie,” you say.

“Who?” Schlatt asks, confused.

“The person you were dreaming about obviously. You were moaning about in your sleep and your buddy seemed very alive this morning.”

Schlatt’s face turns beet. “Um yeah they were.” He definitely found you very hot. However, having a sex dream about your best friend while they are laying beside you is mortifying.

“Who was it? Who were you dreaming about?”

“It was nobody. I can’t even remember," Schlatt lies. He’d be fucked if you found out who he was really dreaming about.

“Oh c'mon. I’m your best friend. You can tell me what it was,” you plead.

Schlatt looks at you for a minute, thinking of a lie of who he could have been dreaming about. “Fine I’ll tell you. It was Megan Fox.”

“Transformers Megan Fox or modern MGK Megan Fox?”

“Uh Transformers,” Schlatt comes up with. He just tried to think of some hot celebrity and she was the first to cross his mind.

“Good choice. Didn’t think she was really your type,” you tell him.

“That’s why it was so strange. Is Ted still here?”

You shrug. “I would assume so since he never said bye.”

Schlatt nods making his way into the kitchen. He sees Ted sitting at his breakfast bar drinking coffee. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” Ted asks, looking up from his mug.

“Shitty,” Schlatt says.

“Aww, sleeping by the person you’re in love with didn’t go well?” Ted asks, mocking Schlatt.

Schlatt flips him off. “I fucking woke up cuddling them.”

“I’m not seeing the issue here? Did they not want you touching them?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I woke up with a fucking boner,” Schlatt groans, putting his face in his hands.

Ted starts laughing so hard, he almost spits his coffee out. “That’s too good. I’m so glad they ended up wanting to share a bed with you. I wish I could’ve seen their face.”

“Well, glad you think so. They wanted to share a bed with you.”

“With me? Why would they want that? They don’t know me,” Ted asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s hilarious because they thought you were flirting with them. Asked me if you were single,” Schlatt tells him. He is starting to feel so embarrassed for being jealous.

“Why would they-“ Ted stops then realizes. “Ohh that. I did that to piss you off.”

“You did what? You flirted with my best friend to piss me off? Why?” Schlatt felt himself getting angry. Ted used you to just piss him off.

“Because I wanted to see this. I wanted you to get so jealous that you actually admit your feelings just to make me stop. You don’t think they know something’s up?”

“They don’t know anything and they never will because they will never feel the same.”

Ted rolls his eyes. “You won’t know unless you tell them. They are probably waiting for you to make the first move.”

Schlatt sighs. “I don’t know. I just feel like if they wanted me, I would know it.” Schlatt feels so dumb about how much he likes you. He wishes he would know you felt the same, but that wasn’t possible. He would just have to suffer in his self pity and watch you fall in love with someone else.

As Ted and Schlatt talk, they hear you walk into the kitchen. They both look over at you. Schlatt’s heart stops when he sees you are wearing his tie dye hoodie with a pair of shorts. You look like a dream and it’s taking everything in him to not fuck you over the counter. He will blame it on Ted being here and not his anxiety over being around you.

“Are you hungry?” Schlatt asks you, trying to clear his mind.

You shrug. “I could eat. Do you have any breakfast food though?” You ask, making your way to his pantry.

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember when I last went to the store, but you can look,” Schlatt says.

You close the pantry. “I think I’m just going to go to Dunkin on my way home,” you tell him.

“Good choice. The coffee of my people,” Ted says, making you laugh slightly.

“I can order something for you if you want,” Schlatt offers, not wanting you to leave yet.

“Don’t worry about it. I need to go into the salon later today anyways. Thank you though.”

Schlatt just nods. He goes into his room to grab your backpack. He comes back into the kitchen to give it to you.

“Oh thank you. I would’ve forgotten it,” you say. “Here’s your hoodie.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can keep it,” he tells you.

You smile at him. “I’m heading out. Thanks for the sushi and movie night. Nice to meet you, Ted.”

Schlatt follows you out to the door. “Be careful. Text me when you get home safe. Let me know if you need anything,” he tells you.

“Of course. Bye Schlatt.”

“Bye Toots.” Schlatt closes the door.

“You’re already so whipped and you aren’t even with them,” Ted comments.

“Fuck you. When are you going home?”

“Aww you’re trying to get rid of me already?”

“I have a few videos to record. You can stay if you need. I’m just being bitter.”

“Ah it’s okay. I was about to head home anyway. Going to go see my parents before I head back to LA,” Ted says.

After a little while, Ted heads home and Schlatt goes into his office. He hops on Discord and sees a message from Aztro. ‘I’m not sure if Mika told you, but we have a show in New York coming up. You don’t have to come to the show, but we thought we could at least go hang out somewhere.’

‘Of course I want to hang and even go watch the show. Was there something specific you had in mind?’

‘We were thinking about going to a karaoke bar. Also invite (Y/N), we want to meet them.’ Mika adds.

Schlatt thought for a minute. Karaoke sounds nerve wracking, but he knew you would love it. ‘Sounds fun! I’ll let them know.’

‘Yay!’ Aztro replies.

Schlatt records a few sponsored videos. You in his hoodie doesn’t leave his mind. Neither does thinking about karaoke. Schlatt thinks of an idea of how to be honest with you, but he’s not sure if it will work. He ignores his anxieties and texts you about the karaoke bar.

A/N: Ahh part four is finally out!! I have the next two parts planned out so yay! Thanks to being snowed in, I have more time to write which is great. Thank you for your support! Hope you all enjoy!!

[whoops-all-jennas]

Kid Named Finger - j.o.

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

y/n: "50 cheese?! 🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀"

Jenna: "If you don't shut up right now."

Summary: Jenna Ortega is showing you Breaking Bad for the first time and you keep annoying her whenever the memes show up.

a/n: super short, but silly fic for you guys :)

I crawl under the blanket, my skin soon touching Jenna's as she holds me. Despite me being taller than her, she loves being the big spoon.

Jenna introduced me to Breaking Bad recently, and I think she's starting to get annoyed at me quoting the memes as they show up.

Jenna kisses the back of my head. "Ready?"

I nod, causing Jenna to reach over me for the remote instead of asking me to grab it.

We're watching the screen, neither of us making a noise. A car pulls up in front of Jesse's house, revealing a new character. He was a bald older man, but I recognized him.

I point to the screen. "It's kid named finger." I say with a gasp.

"You did not just say that." Jenna says with a fake annoyed tone.

I pause the show before I turn around to face her with a serious expression on my face. I start to speak, trying to do an impression of the character on screen. "Waltuh, put your di-"

Jenna puts a hand over my mouth, interrupting me. "Oh my God shut up." She says teasingly.

I feel a mischievous smile creep up on my face before I lick her hand. She quickly pulls her arm away. "Ew! Y/n!" She shouts before rubbing her hand on my face.

She accidentally pushes too hard, causing me to fall off the bed. The thunk of my body hitting the floor echos on the walls of our room. "Y/n are you okay?!" She peers over the bed to find my figure laid barren on the floor.

I turn to face towards the ceiling, meeting Jenna's gaze with my serious one. A smile tempting to form at the corners of my lips as I do the same impression as before. "Put your dick away waltuh."

She looks at me with an unamused look, clicking her tongue before speaking. "Right, get back up here."

She grabs my arm, pulling me back onto the bed.

More episodes passed, his name never getting revealed. I only refer to him as 'kid named finger', and it's clear that Jenna is unamused. I can't resist annoying her.

It has now been thirteen episodes since his character was introduced, still no name. We watch as he enters Sauls office, Saul is laying on the ground in some sort of massage thingie. In the dialogue, Saul refers to him as Mike. Finally giving him a name.

I turn to Jenna again, my mouth agape. "Kid named finger's name is Mike?!"

She gives me another unamused look for a moment. "Yes, his name is Mike." She says flatly.

I turn back around before murmuring to myself. "Alright class, today we're going to finger paint." A smile creeping onto my face. "Kid named finger."

I feel a sudden pressure on my back as Jenna pushes me off the bed again.

a/n: hey guys! I've been procrastinating on writing because I just finished breaking bad and el camino with my partner and it's the only thing on my mind, so this is what you get :p

I'll get back to writing 'past lives' and 'look who's inside again pt 2' soon I promise lmao

[ni-idea-07]

My favorite person.

TW: Yandere themes, kidnapping, mentions of murder and kidnapping, explicit kidnapping, and more.

Jason loved you, he loved you so much since the moment he saw you. You were so young, full of life, and eager to help people living on the streets. He watched you from a nearby rooftop when you handed out blankets and food to the homeless in Gotham.

That’s when Jason began to follow you.

He discovered you were a journalist, and in Gotham, that was practically a death sentence.

Don’t worry, Jason followed you everywhere and eliminated some of the people who were also trying to kill you.

He also gave you gifts he knew you would like; he sent anonymous messages about events that hadn't gone public yet, even sent you some photos for your blog, and even large floral arrangements.

Although he had a lot of work, he couldn’t stop watching his news segment. He liked watching you talk about a case, he loved how you looked so smart, so confident, and with those dresses that highlighted your lovely curves.

He was a huge fan of your work, loved the way you wrote, and couldn't wait for the next update on your weekly blog, which led him, out of love, to hack your computer and gain access to everything—even if you noticed.

Still, nothing compared to the pain he felt when he found out you were writing a blog about him and that you were planning to present it on the news. He felt betrayed. After everything he had done for you, how could you do this to him? He just wanted to protect you, but you betrayed him.

And you will pay for that.

He slammed his laptop aside, rising from the chair and pacing back and forth in his hideout. His mind was a whirlwind. He had protected you, given you everything, even things he had never given anyone else. He felt vulnerable with you, and you had stabbed him in the back.

—“How could you do this to me?”— he murmured, clenching his fists.

He knew he needed answers, needed to confront you. But more than that, he needed you to understand what you had done, what you meant to him, and why your actions were unacceptable.

That night, while you were working on your blog at home, you received an anonymous message. The sender had been your constant source of exclusives, so you didn’t suspect anything when you opened it. But this time, the message was different.

—“Do you think you can write about me and get away with it? We’ll see each other soon.”—

A chill ran down your spine. You looked around your apartment, feeling like someone was watching you. You tried to focus on your work, but the fear was palpable. You closed your laptop and decided it was better to go to bed early.

That very night, Jason was in your apartment. He had entered effortlessly, using the skills he had learned to open your lock. He watched you sleep, his dark figure blending into the shadows of the room. His gaze was fixed on you, a mix of adoration and anger.

He quietly walked to your desk, looking at the notes and drafts on your laptop. He wanted to destroy it, erase all traces of what you had written. But he couldn’t do it without confronting you first. He wanted to hear from your lips why you had betrayed him.

You woke with a start when you felt a hand on your mouth. Opening your eyes, you saw him. Red Hood was there, standing in front of you, his intimidating yet familiar figure. You tried to scream, but his hand firmly covered your mouth.

—“You’re not going to scream. I just want to talk,”— he said in a calm but tense voice. Slowly, he removed his hand, giving you space to breathe.

—“Who are you? What are you doing here?”— you asked, your heart racing, although something inside you already knew.

—“Isn’t it obvious?”— he said as he took off his mask, revealing his face. —“I’m the subject of your blog. I’m the man who’s been protecting you from day one.”—

Your mind took a moment to process it. —“You...”— The words caught in your throat. You had researched so much about Red Hood, but you never imagined he’d be this close to you now.

—“Why did you do this?”— he asked, his voice heavy with pain. —“After everything I’ve done for you, why did you betray me?”—

—“I don’t know what you mean...”—

—“You’ll understand, don’t worry, princess.”—

—“I’ll delete it if that’s what you want,”— you whispered, but your words only seemed to fuel his fury.

Jason stepped closer, leaning over you. —“No, you didn’t. But I did because I love you. And now you’ll understand what that love means.”— His gaze was intense, dangerous.

You had no escape. And at that moment, you understood that things would never be the same.

He tried to grab you, but with a swift move, you covered his face with the blankets, using the confusion to run.

You ran. His footsteps echoed behind you. The door was near. Not close enough. You felt the tug on your hair.

—“We’ll be together, together forever,”— he spoke as he slammed your head against the wall.

—“I love you... and we’ll be together forever,”— he spoke with such tenderness, then removed his red helmet and kissed your bloodied and semi-conscious face. Everything looked blurry.

His smile was sweet and disturbing, a smile that promised you would never escape. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading my blog. This is the first one, but I hope you like it.

place your orders🫠

Bye bye

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Little Brother

SORRY SORRY SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO UP LAST NIGHT I JUST FORGOT I'M SO SORRY

hi ur peter and nat fics are everything to me ur so talented and if you ever fancy writing more i would not complain (no pressure ofc!!) – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Word Count: 1504

He's a child, Natasha's brain screams as Spider-Man tries to stand up, shaking and trembling in the cold, he's just a child.

The snow continues to fall. The blood continues to spread, but not as quickly—healing factor, right. She glances around. There's no one else coming to help him, and nothing that could stop her from finishing this now. She can hear the part of her obsessed with survival urging her to do it, just finish it, but the child in front of her is freezing and injured.

"Wait," he cries as she surges forward, wrapping her arms around him, "I can—we can talk about this, can't we?"

"Who protects you?"

"W-what?"

"Who protects you," she demands, "who looks after you?"

"I, uh—"

No one. No one protects this child. No one takes care of him.

She spends about thirty second thinking about this before she realizes Yelena's going to have a field day after the hard time she's given her sister about bringing home strays.

"You're coming with me."

***

Natasha sets the baby spider down in the car, shushing him lightly as she walks around to the other side. The baby spider's eyes are wide, almost pressing himself against the window in an attempt to follow her around the car.

"It's okay," she murmurs as she shuts the door, "I'm right here, I'm not leaving."

In the few minutes since she'd announced she was keeping him, the kid had transformed from the quippy, sarcastic thorn in her side to just a scared child. The switch was jarring and heartbreaking and she grits her jaw, forcing the tension from her shoulders and reaching over. The baby spider clutches as the hand she offers him, drawing it up under his chin like a comfort teddy. Natasha swallows, brushing her thumb against his jaw.

"Are you hungry?"

"Huh?"

"Are you hungry, baby spider," she asks again, "can we get you something to eat?"

The baby spider shakes his head. "'M fine."

"That wasn't what I asked," she says as gently as possible. "do you want some food?"

The kid stares at her, every bit a stray dog too scared to eat. Natasha waits patiently—well, as patiently as she can—for him to slowly nod.

"Yeah? Food sound good? You have any idea of what you want?"

"…I can choose?"

Yelena's young face flashes in her mind. The sudden wonder and fear of being able to choose what they did, what they ate, where they went. Her gut clenches and she squeezes his hand in hers.

"Yeah, baby spider, you can pick."

The kid fidgets, looking at the ground. "Can…can we go to the fast food place near the train station?"

"Good choice. I've been craving fries."

"R-really?"

"Yeah," she says. lightly squeezing his fingers again. "Can I have my hand back for a second? I just need to get the car started."

The baby spider slowly lets go, watching Natasha's hand like it was his favorite toy being taken away. His face is so round, so soft, so young…

Oh, someone's hurt you like that too, have they? Did that happen to you too?

Natasha quickly starts the car and held out her hand again, glancing over with a smile as the kid latches onto it again. She drives slowly, eyes on the road, unable to keep her gaze from flicking over to see him.

He's so small.

Okay, I have a kid now. Another kid now. Shit, I don't know how to raise a kid that isn't Yelena. What if he expects me to explain how to get a real job? I don't fucking know how to be a real adult that isn't lying about everything.

A darker voice whispers how this child might expect an adult to behave and she scowls.

Nope. Fuck it. I'm not fucking up this kid. We're doing the sappy shit first and adulting shit later.

She was definitely going to have to call the therapist she'd used to help Yelena get to sleep again.

They pull into the drive-through, glancing at the menu. She looks over to ask what the baby spider wants only to see his eyes so wide the whites are visible.

"…see something you've always wanted to try?"

"The number 6," the baby spider rattles off, "with a large Sprite and an extra fry."

His eyes widen even more, as if suddenly aware of what he just said, only for Natasha to laugh.

"That sound good, baby spider." They pull up to the speaker. "Two number 6's with large Sprites and two extra fries."

Other great thing about fast food places apart from letting the baby spider be a goddamned kid for once: dirt cheap but really fucking good.

"So," she asks as she sets the food beneath the kid's seat, "where's your favorite place to hang out?"

"Hang out?"

"Yeah, just to sit or something when you're out and about."

"Um…"

The baby spider squirms in the car seat. His hands bundle up in his lap, eyes beginning to glaze over.

"Or," Natasha says quickly, "I can take you to my favorite spot and we can eat there?"

The kid nods quickly. She smiles and nods to the food.

"If you're hungry, go ahead. I don't mind."

"But shouldn't I wait for you?"

"Good point." She reaches over and grabs a fry. "There. Go nuts, baby spider."

She pulls away, trying to keep her eyes on the road to give the kid privacy, unable to stop herself from stealing little peeks over to see if he was actually eating. It takes far too long for the baby spider to follow in her example and take a fry, but the pleased look on his face makes up for it.

They come to a stop near the lookout tower at the top of the hillside. Beneath them, the gravel crunches under the tires as the car shifts into park. The kid glances around.

"Are we allowed to be here?"

Natasha looks over and winks. "I won't tell if you won't."

She grabs one of the drinks and a bag of food, getting out of the car and heading for one of the large flat rocks.

"C'mon, baby spider. Let's get some food in you."

She hears a gasp behind her and hides a smile. The city sprawls out beneath them, glittering lights as far as the eye could see. Reds, yellows, blues, and all sorts of colors in between flash by underneath the sky, a bright moon hanging suspended in the inky blackness.

She remembers her first time up here too, her and Yelena…

"Come sit. View isn't going anywhere."

They each peel back paper wrappers and stuff themselves with greasy food, hunting around for the few napkins that had been tossed haphazardly aside. The night air fills with obnoxious slurping as they drain their drinks and ball up the trash.

"Is this your favorite spot?"

"Sure is." Natasha leans back on her hands. "Not a better view in the city."

"I don't know," the baby spider says quietly, "I think the view from the top of WJYOP Tower's pretty sweet."

She glances over and ruffles the kid's hair. "Guess you're gonna have to show me sometime."

The kid's face falls and he fidgets with a stray napkin. "Why're you being nice to me?"

Natasha lets out a long breath. "Because someone's gotta be, baby spider, and whoever's responsible for hurting you like that clearly isn't."

"Hurting me like what?"

"Not taking care of you. Letting you go out by yourself and get into fights you can't handle. Leaving you on your own."

The baby spider is quiet. Natasha moves closer.

"I mean what I said, baby spider. You can come with me. I'll keep you safe if you want."

"…you will?"

"Yeah, baby spider." She opens her arms and after a moment, a little kid snuggles up to her side. "There…you okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No." The kid absentmindedly nuzzles her shoulder. "You're warm."

"I'm a lot bigger than you, baby spider. I generate more body heat." And I was genetically engineered to do that too, but we're not going to get to that just yet.

"Mm." She chuckles as he burrows into her. "Give some to me, 'm cold."

"And sleepy," she remarks as a yawn almost splits his head in two, "c'mon, baby spider, let's get to you to a bed."

She scoops the kid into her arms, carrying him back to the car.

***

"Natasha."

"Yelena."

"What is that?"

"A smoothie?"

"Did you get us a baby brother without asking me?"

"Yes."

"How could you do such a thing?"

Peter shifts in his sleep, letting out a quiet noise and stretching like a cat before he resettles. The two former assassins watch him, spellbound.

"You're forgiven."

"I figured."

[shigarakisdumbwhore]

The Visit - Todoroki x Reader

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts since FEBRUARY 21, 2022 Y'ALL. why did I wait so long omg

Summary: Your ex, Todoroki, visits you in the hospital after a traumatic car accident.

Warnings: mentions of car crash, hospital, angst, hurt/comfort ig

Words: 735

"Did you only come because it reminds you of the guilt from your mommy?"

You had heard the door open and looked over. It only took you a second before you realized who it was. He wasn't even out of his school uniform yet. His hair was glued slick to his forehead with sweat and his jacket was around his waist, dress shirt barely tucked in and wrinkled.

He didn't say anything, not even a reaction, as he made his way over. He didn't ask to take the seat next to you, probably didn't care what you wanted anyway. He appeared to be on a mission. His face was expressionless and too blank to read.

"No."

The answer was so simple and short. There was little to no emotion behind it, but it was comforting to you. It made you think about how he came here all by himself, despite knowing how snippy you could be. Todoroki wasn't completely innocent. He had his moments where he could be disrespectful, you both did. However, he knew he would have to deal with it upon arriving at the hospital and he did it anyway. Even though you two believed the relationship was far behind, there were still some lingering feelings. A part of you wished you'd never see him again and the other part was glad he came.

An awkward silence was instilled between the both of you. You looked out straight again, too hurt to look at his face once again. The memories of how he made you feel still lingered fresh in your mind. Looking at him would only bring them back, and that would do you no good.

"What are you watching?" Your gaze focused on the laptop in front of you, sitting on the rolling desk that hovered above you. Your friends and family came to visit as often as they could, but during the hours they couldn't it was lonely. You asked to keep your laptop available so you could play games or watch movies. The one Shoto was asking about happened to be your favorite, one you felt giddy about when someone asked. You couldn't help yourself. As soon as he asked, you answered with excitement. A long ramble filled the silence. It was just like old times.

For the first time in a long time, he was smiling at you. It was a small smile, a Todoroki type of smile. You never saw Endeavor with a big grin so you assumed it was a family thing. Regardless, it was an image that lived in your mind with vivid detail. Then it hit.

Upon this realization, you turned to look at him with a wide grin, but it began to fade when you noticed his did too. It must've clicked at the same time. The two of you were always known for having synchronized minds. Old times. They were called old times for a reason.

"I'm sor-"

"Please, just," you interrupted, "let's just... pretend none of that happened, like we're still together, like we're happy... please."

Shoto sat in silence as he stared at you. His face was so hard to read. So blank and emotionless, but you knew a million things were going on in his mind. You could only imagine what could have been running through his head.

"I never wanted to leave. Things were so complicated with school and my father... I took that out on you and for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took your injury for me to figure that out. I promise, when you recover, if you give me a chance, I'll do better." His tone was sweet and sincere. Shoto never really had any reason to lie and he usually was very loyal to his word. But the hurt that he caused you, was this apology enough to just forgive him so easily? To forget everything before and act like it never happened, like it never bothered you. Like it still didn't bother you.

Despite all of it, you still loved him. That's why it still hurt. That's why you still held on. And that's why you secretly felt so relieved when he walked through that door like he traveled through hell just to see you.

"I missed you... I missed you every day you were gone."

"I know," he stood up and pulled you into his arms tightly. "This time, I'll make it right. I love you."

[vizjpmdose]

How to Lose a Date dad!James Patrick March x daughter!reader. || 1.3k+ words. !!: Overprotective parent, threatening, not proofread. a/n: accepted this request since I already have a similar fic to this idea prepared in my drafts.

SUMMARY: You met a boy during the latest event in the Cortez, you wanted to go on a date with him but you hid it from your dad. Once your dad found out he planned to scare the boy off, and in order to get you back in his favor he decided to spoil you.

requested by: @tate-langdons-wife

Ms. Evers was like a mother to you. Someone you can tell everything to and she never judges, her advice are always so gentle too, unlike your dad's.. So you found yourself opening up to her about the boy you met during one of the events in the Cortez. You both did had a good talk for an hour and he suddenly asked you to go on a date with him. You stood there at the doorframe of a small bathroom in one of the empty hotel rooms, watching Ms. Evers clean the bathroom while you keep telling her everything. 

Ms. Evers chuckled lightly, actually enjoying your enthusiasm. "Oh, my dear, you should embrace these moments of youth. A handsome young man wanting to take you out on a date is quite the occasion! Does your father know?" 

She thinks that your father knows. But you actually don't want him to know. And you don't know where you got the nerve to not tell your FATHER about this. 

"No.." You muttered out, letting it hang in there for a little bit. "You know how he is, Ms. Evers." You added. A part of you feels guilty but you shook it off. "Promise me, Ms. Evers. Not a word to him." But just as those words left your lips, the room’s air grew heavier, colder. A familiar chill prickled your skin. 

"Oh, do go on, my darling. I wouldn’t dream of interrupting such a fascinating revelation." Your dad, 'Mr. March' spoke, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Your heart dropped.. You stayed silent for some seconds before letting out a shaky sigh. "Dad, please-" 

"No." He replied plainly. He started walking towards you, the feeling of his presence growing more heavier as he even walks with elegance and fierce. "What did I tell you about these.. Little rascals these days?" He was talking about the boys these days, referring to them as 'little rascals'. He even emphasized the 'little rascals' as if there's a bitter taste on his tongue. 

"He's not a 'rascal', dad.. He looks formal and is easy to talk with!" You replied. You just really want to experience new stuffs. Your dad's lips pressed into a thin line. He's about to scold you for daring to defend a boy in front of a man like him. But just as he was about to scold you an idea popped into his mind. "Very well. If you believe this boy worthy, then I shall meet him." Before you can even react, he already walked away. 

You know you have no other choice but to follow that order. But at least he's kind of.. Considering it, right?? You told the boy about it, and he made you blush with the; "I'll handle your dad for you."  

Even you 99% doubt that your dad would even let the boy talk while he's talking with him. But at least the boy immediately agreed to meet your dad. That's counted as a greenflag.. right..?

The day where the boy will be meeting your dad finally came.  

The boy entered Room 64. The room where you told him to meet your dad. As the boy pressed the doorbell, a calm voice from the inside replied instantly. "Come in." The boy opened the door and stepped in, finding your dad wearing a dark blue pinstripe suit sitting on the velvet couch while holding a drinking glass with whiskey in it. His eyes dropped to the boy, he took a quick sip before gesturing to the armchair in front of him with a tight smile. 

"Have a seat." He spoke. The boy nodded and made his way to sit down. "Good afternoon, sir. I'm-" Before the boy can even finish his sentence, your dad interrupted. 

"You intended to take my daughter out on a date? What do you think of her?" He suddenly asked sharply. The boy's eyes narrowed, the way your dad just cut him off already got him embarrassed greatly. "Uh, sir, I just.. Yes, I want to take her out on a date. We had a good conversation the first time I met her in the latest event held here in your hotel, sir. I think our conversation could be more genuine while on a date, and.. I think she's great." The boy spoke, he used all the confidence he had in his body to answer that. 

Your dad raised an eyebrow as he slowly lowered his drink. "Great?" He asked as he tilted his head a bit and squinted his eyes. "My daughter.. deserves far more than great! She deserves devotion, respect! And a companion who understands her worth.” , "Would you kill for her? No! You can get her killed instead." He started snapping. He didn't even acknowledge the whole sentence that the boy said. Your dad's words grew more sharper that made the boy froze on the chair.  

"Out." Your dad ordered to the boy as he finally finished his lecture. "Out before I decide to wall you up alive." He threatened. In fact, he had been planning to actually do that. The boy immediately walked out in shame without a word. Your dad watched the boy from the window as he leaves his property. 

"Pathetic." He mumbled to himself. 

Later that night, you were so confused that the boy didn't even go to your room or texted you before leaving. In fact, he haven't texted you until now. You then found out from Ms. Evers that your dad scared off the poor boy that the boy had to leave without so much as a goodbye. You got mad, hella mad and upset at your dad even though you lowkey predicted that would happen. You decided to ignore your dad a whole day tomorrow or even a week if you could. 

Time has passed, it's the morning now and you just woke up. You're still mad as you remembered last night. But when you opened your phone you saw messages of your friends telling you through texts that the boy took another girl on a date instead. That means.. He wasn't even serious in the first place. As you read that, your anger for your dad slowly died down. 

The door of your room suddenly opened, revealing your dad. "What did I tell you, hm?" He asked out, reminding you that he's ALWAYS RIGHT. You sat up and brushed your hair back in frustration and defeat. "Dad, please stop randomly showing up." 

"Nonsense. I just want to protect you, darling." He scoffed out as he walked towards your bed. "Is that so hard to understand, my dear?" He asked softly this time as he started to comb your hair with his fingers and the feeling slowly made you calm down. "..No dad." You mumbled out in defeat. 

He flashed a soft smile and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. After that he stood up straightly again lets out a whistle, the whistle he uses to call Ms. Evers. Ms. Evers then came in holding a dress/other type of outfit that you wanted to wear on a date with that boy. You spoke about that to Ms. Evers, you told her how much you want to purchase that dress/outfit. Your dad secretly immediately bought it just to cheer you up immediately as well.  

"I granted your wish," He chuckled out as he watched your eyes widen. He then pulled out dollar bills from his pocket. He quickly counted it and gave it to you. "An advance allowance to cheer you up, my dear. Go hang out with your girl friends instead. They're more trustable." He added, your dad was right. Really right. 

You smiled widely as you took your time to appreciate everything he gave you right now. A good morning indeed. "Thank youuu!" You thanked him enthusiastically. "Thank you for saving me, dad." You added, softly and seriously. 

"Always." He replied, still having the soft smile on his face. 

"The boy is a damn watermelon, my dear. Green on the outside while red in the inside." He joked, following it with a loud laughter. Ms. Evers cracked a chuckle while you laughed along softly. 

likes/reblogs/comments are very appreciated specially in long fics like these. They make my effort feel appreciated and gives me more motivation. Thank you!