#i wanna punch his face with my face etc etc

[trashshouldnt]

i hate being gay <== the lying deceiver

[musclesandhammering]

Having a finale episode that’s more focused on hyping up an annoying side character than the person the series is actually named after, oh I’m getting Loki season 1 flashbacks 😭

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying

→ a/n: kinktober 08

Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.

However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.

“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.

“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.

“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.

“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.

“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.

Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.

“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.

“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.

Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.

”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.

You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.

He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.

“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.

Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.

“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.

Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.

“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.

You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.

The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.

→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iv

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 11.3k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions (you might laugh, you might cry, and you might just wanna punch something after this chapter), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecation in some aspect, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: So, elephant in the room....how did this get past 11k when other chapters are significantly shorter? Well...I had ideas? I'm sorry!! 🫠 ANYWAY more angst in this chapter. Sorry not sorry for what you will consume here. I honestly love this chapter so much though! Okay, I won't say any more bc spoilers are cool but not in my fic! (hehe) Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Numb.

It’s the only word you can rummage up to describe the sudden shift in your demeanor. You’d think one’s typical response to their ex-husband’s drunken confession would be one of confusion, anger, hurt, or the like.

But you’ve gone stone cold instead, barely able to feel the steaming hot water that kisses your skin from within the tub. The room seems to have become a bit of a haze too, your vision blurring as you grip your cell phone in your hand.

The absurdity of it all—the man who handed you divorce papers now professing his love—feels like a cruel joke. The sheer impossibility of the situation is almost laughable, yet you can't even bring yourself to do that at this point. You've exhausted all of your emotional resources.

You’re unsure how many seconds pass before his voice calls your name again.

“__? Are you still there?” His voice is a muffled echo in your mind. It sounds so far away, though you know he’s right here on the other end of the line.

"Honestly Jungkook…I don’t know what you expect me to say.”  The words come out slow, measured, and almost emotionless.

There's a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, cracking under the weight of his confession. "I guess—I'm not sure either. But I just needed you to know. I needed to tell you everything."

“You're drunk. You realize that, right?"

“I had a few beers, yeah," he admits. "Maybe I'm a little tipsy. But it doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. I miss you, __, a lot."

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re back in the past, back when those words would have meant the world to you. But now, they feel hollow, devoid of the warmth they once carried. And how can they not? You tethered yourself to your ex-husband for three years, learned his patterns, became acquainted with his needs, and danced with his indifference. In the end, the result is always the same, and this time is no different. By morning, he'll likely forget everything he's ever said to you and return to his normal habits.

You take a deep breath, your head resting on the cool porcelain tub, and close your eyes. "I can’t do this," you say quietly. "Not now."

"It's late. I understand-"

"No," you interrupt, voice firmer, "you don't understand, Jungkook. You don't understand me and you never have. I'm hanging up now."

"Please don't. I know I've hurt-"

"Stop. Do you know how patronizing that sounds to me? Please don't call this number again."

"But... I love you, __," his voice is barely a whisper. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You end the call before another word can drop from his lips, or yours for that matter. It's time you accept that you are never more than an impulsive decision, a temporary solution, and an item on his agenda. Tonight's conversation solidifies that for you.

Despite being sleep-deprived the next morning, you refuse to let fatigue keep you from fulfilling your promise to visit Taehyung at the hospital. You've been anxious about him all night, tossing and turning without respite. The weight of your ex-husband's drunken confession added to your restlessness as well. Nevertheless, you push it out of your mind as you bound out the front door.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by an abundance of flowers, cards, and thoughtful gifts scattered around Taehyung’s hospital room. One bouquet on the windowsill catches your attention in particular—its familiar scent of lavender is instantly recognizable.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice says from behind you. You turn to see Dr. Min entering the room, Taehyung’s chart in hand. He seems more lively than last night, his expression noticeably brighter with a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, they’re lovely,” you reply. “I’m guessing these are from Taehyung’s fans and colleagues?”

He nods. “Indeed. Lavender is a calming scent. It’s no wonder people chose it for him.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly before he continues, “My girlfriend loves it too. She says it helps her relax after a long day.”

The comment is unexpected yet sweet. You notice the suppressed grin and the warmth in his eyes easily, signaling his deep affection for her. You wonder how it must feel to love someone so purely and without restraint. Before the thought lingers, your gaze shifts involuntarily to the man on the hospital bed, still asleep. Though the bandages are gone and his breathing is stable, your concern deepens as you take in his nearly still form.

“How’s he doing?” you ask, moving closer to his bed. Your heart tightens with each step as the cuts and burns on his face become more visible.

“He’s lucky,” Dr. Min says, walking to the opposite side of the bed, his tone growing serious. “He has multiple rib fractures, a mild concussion, and a few burns, but it could have been worse. Taehyung is stable now, and we’re monitoring his progress closely.”

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

“His face burns are only second-degree, so they should heal in a couple of weeks. The concussion should also resolve with ample rest and by avoiding strenuous activity—both physical and mental.”

“Which means he won’t be able to act for a while?” you ask, reading between the lines.

“Afraid not,” Dr. Min dismisses the idea. “Hopefully, his projects can accommodate his absence.”

“What about his rib fractures? I imagine those will require the most attention.” You feel like you might be asking too many questions, knowing Dr. Min will likely need to repeat everything to Taehyung later, but you can't hold back. After all, you made a promise to yourself last night that you'd ensure he'd be alright.

“Yes," Dr. Min answers carefully, "they could take up to three months to fully heal. We recommend applying ice for 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. As long as he remains stable over the next few days, he can be discharged to continue his recovery at home." He pauses, allowing you to process the information before continuing. "It's crucial that he rests. Even if he feels bursts of energy, he needs to let his body heal. Light activities like breathing exercises and short walks are fine, but he should avoid intense exercises until we give the all-clear.”

You nod thoughtfully, absorbing Dr. Min’s detailed prognosis. Taehyung’s condition sounds serious but manageable. After such a traumatic accident, it's clear he'll need months to heal. Getting him to adhere to the doctor's orders will be challenging, given his profession and active social calendar. However, if you need to be the one to remind him, you will.

“I’ll make sure he follows your recommendations,” you assure Dr. Min, your voice tinged with concern.

“I have no doubt,” Dr. Min replies with a reassuring smile. “You know, you're the first person who’s shown up for him both last night and today. Aside from that young man who came in briefly. Namjoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you respond slowly, the revelation catching you off guard. “He works as my secretary but he's also a good friend of Taehyung's. His family really hasn’t come in yet?” You circle back to Dr. Min's first point with a sense of urgency.

You wouldn't normally be this insistent on the matter; however, past conversations with Taehyung have revealed how much he cherishes his family, often sharing stories about their reunions with warmth and enthusiasm. With such a loving family, you’re taken aback that they haven’t shown up yet. Then again, his accident was sudden, and there could be various reasons for their delay. Do they even know about his accident, for that matter?

“They called, of course, but you’re the first to actually come in,” Dr. Min clarifies, his gaze thoughtful as he responds to your concern. "You must be quite an attentive boss to show this level of care for your colleague."

There's an underlying suggestiveness laced in his tone, but you're quick to brush it off, redirecting the focus to Taehyung’s condition. “It’s the least I can do, given what he’s going through,” you say, trying to sound matter-of-fact. “He’s a valuable member of our team, and I want to make sure he gets back on his feet as soon as possible.”

Dr. Min's eyes twinkle, as if holding back further commentary. “Even from a professional standpoint, not everyone would go to such lengths for a coworker. He’s fortunate to have you.”

You feel a slight flush as his subtle implications continue. “Well, I just…care about his well-being. Besides,” you glance back at Taehyung, your expression softening more than you intend, “I know he'd do the same for me.”

For a few short breaths, Dr. Min remains silent as your attention remains fixed on your colleague. “I need to check on a few other patients so I’ll leave you two alone for now," he finally says, breaking the silence. “I'll be back to check in on him again later, but if you have any questions or need anything in the meantime, the nurse is nearby."

With a nod and a soft "thank you," you watch Dr. Min exit the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung once more. After settling into a chair beside his bed, you silently observe the steady rise and fall of his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breathing is a small comfort amidst his vulnerable state. Despite everything, you're glad he's going to be okay.

As each minute passes, nurses come and go, and the hum of activity outside the room gradually fades into a background murmur. You had only planned to stay for an hour this morning, but time seems to slip away as the clock now nears 1 p.m. You had hoped Taehyung would be awake by now, but he remains still.

After a brief sigh, the thought occurs to you that you don't have to spend so many hours here, waiting for Taehyung to wake up. It's the weekend, and there are plenty of other things you could be doing instead. Dr. Min could easily call you the moment Taehyung wakes up. But something in your conscience urges you not to leave. Just give it another hour, you think. If he isn’t awake by then, you can come back tomorrow.

Suddenly, a slight movement catches your eye. Taehyung's fingers twitch, and his eyelids flutter. You nearly missed it with how lost you were in your thoughts.

Leaning forward with nervous relief, you softly call his name. It takes him a few seconds, but slowly, his eyes blink open. He turns his head slightly, gaze eventually finding yours, and you feel momentarily transfixed. It's unlike you to respond this way, but you had forgotten how piercing and comforting his eyes could be. A genuine smile immediately spreads across his face once your eyes meet, though not as boxy as usual due to his condition. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see him awake and responsive.

“Hi," his voice is strained but recognizable. "It's...nice to see you."

“The feeling's mutual,” you respond gently. “How are you feeling?”

He shifts slightly, wincing a bit. “Like I got hit by a truck,” he mutters. “I’m sore all over.”

“You had a close call, but you’re in good hands now. Your doctor, Dr. Min, says you'll be okay, as long as you take it easy for a while. He was here earlier this morning, but he'll check in with you again soon.”

"You..." He hesitates, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You've been here since morning? What time is it now?"

"Oh, uh, it's around 1 in the afternoon," you say, gradually realizing the weight of your words. You consider whether or not to tell him the full extent of your stay. “I got here a few hours ago. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung nods slightly, a mix of gratitude and concern evident in his expression. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “I wasn't sure if I'd be alone.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words, your throat tightening. Before you can ask what he means, he continues, “I must have taken a lot of your weekend from you.” His tone is apologetic, and your heart aches. Here he is, lying on a hospital bed, in pain and vulnerable, and he’s worried about inconveniencing you.

“I'm glad to be here,” you reassure gently. “I promise, you’re not alone. A lot of people care about you.”

Taehyung glances around, taking in the gifts and flowers scattered throughout the room. “From my fans, I’m guessing?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light.

“And your colleagues too,” you reply. “We all want to see you get better." Taehyung returns his gaze to you, a faint smile lingering on his lips. Neither of you says anything, which unsettles you.

“Did you sleep okay?” you ask, the question coming out more hurriedly than intended.

“I drifted in and out for most of the night. It’s hard to get comfortable,” he admits, "I think I could still hear a lot around me. It felt like someone was holding my hand for a few minutes too, but I’m not sure how much of it was real or just dreams, though.”

Oh shit. You weren't expecting that answer.

The possibility that Taehyung might have heard you talking to him last night shouldn't be that embarrassing, yet your mind races with thoughts of what he might have heard or understood in his semi-conscious state. Not only did you share more than you probably should have, but you also touched his hand to feel his pulse, and he felt it.

“Well, um, I'm sorry to hear you had a rough night. You should rest more,” you suggest, trying to compose yourself. "I should get going anyway and let you sleep.” You begin standing from your seat but don't get far before the gentlest of touches brush against your wrist. When you look at Taehyung, he quickly retracts his fingers, concerned he overstepped.

"Shit, I'm sorry, __. I didn't mean to grab at you like that," he says softly. "It's just...would you mind staying with me a little longer, please? I'd really appreciate the company."

You can hear the yearning in his request. It's clear that he doesn't want to be alone, and you don't blame him, especially after the accident he's endured. Settling back into the chair, you agree to stay a bit longer, perhaps another half hour, before heading home; you realize you haven't eaten lunch yet.

"So, how are you doing?" he asks. "We haven't talked in bit."

His question triggers a flood of thoughts, the most recent interaction with your ex-husband being one of them. Up until now, you've managed to push his drunken call out of your mind, preferring to focus on Taehyung instead. However, Jungkook's unexpected confession still throws you for a loop. It's not that you're riddled with the need for clarity on its validity, especially since you don't believe him anyway. How could he claim to love you when he also admits he doesn't understand his own feelings? On top of that, being drunk while doing so—it doesn't make sense.

No, the real question now is what happens next. How do you proceed? Will he try to reach out again? The way he asked if you still loved him before you ended the call weighs on your mind even now.

You know you'll need to discuss this with Melody during your next therapy session.

Before you spiral further, you decide to steer the conversation away from personal matters and opt for a safer topic.

"The company is doing well," you reply with a smile. "The new campaigns we've put out recently have been pretty successful. Although," you add, a hint of curiosity in your tone, "the team has missed your frequent drop-ins, especially Namjoon." If you're honest with yourself, you've missed them too.

"How is he? Namjoon?"

"He's okay, but he's been concerned for you," you answer carefully. "When we heard the news, we came to see you together, but he was quite affected. He promised to visit once you woke up."

"So," Taehyung takes a moment to process. "That was this morning, right?"

"No, actually, it was yesterday."

There's a brief, awkward silence as you sense Taehyung might be thinking the same thing you are—about your presence last night. Surprisingly, he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he eyes you curiously, biting down on his lip slightly.

"I meant to stop by last week," he admits. "But we were wrapping up the final scenes of my film shoots. The producers were eager to finish them. I'm just thankful we got them done. I wanted to spend a day riding my bike along a scenic route until... well, until all of this happened. I don't remember much, but I'm just grateful Tan wasn't with me."

"Tan?" you ask, curious now.

"Yeontan, my pomeranian," Taehyung explains with a soft smile. "He means the world to me. My parents take care of him when I'm busy with filming. I was actually planning to drive up and visit them this weekend. And, of course, bring Tan back home with me. They live pretty far from here, so it's better that I go up to them if I can."

Well, that answers the question about his parents not being here yet, you think to yourself.

As Taehyung speaks, you can see a flicker of fondness and relief in his eyes when he mentions his dog. It must have been months since he last saw him.

"I bet you miss him a lot," you comment softly, "Tan."

"I do," he admits with a slight smile, "but I know he's being well taken care of. Hopefully, I can see him soon. And my parents too."

"I understand that feeling," you reply, nodding thoughtfully. "Pets have a way of becoming family, don't they? I had a cat named Evie when I was growing up. She was a feisty little thing with green eyes, always getting into mischief. We got her from the streets and she was so slim, but it didn't take her long to beef up with all the treats we gave her. Whenever I was feeling down, she would curl up next to me, as if she knew. It's funny how they have that kind of intuition, isn't it?"

Taehyung listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment at your tangent. It's one of the few times you've shared something personal about yourself that wasn't work-related. Feeling like you might have overshared, you decide to stop, assuming Taehyung isn't interested in knowing that much.

You chuckle inwardly at yourself.

Jungkook was your husband for three years, and he never seemed to care about such personal details.

I—" you start, intending to apologize, but Taehyung interrupts.

"Did you have any other pets?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

You chuckle softly, reminiscing. "Yeah, we had... uh, god, you don't want to know how many pets we had."

"Try me," his eyes become playful, yet there's a seriousness behind them, like he really wants to know. It's unfamiliar.

"Alright," you chuckle, "aside from Evie, there were three other cats. Calvin and Misha were the adventurous ones, always climbing trees, while Pip was the cuddly lap cat. Then there were two dogs: Toby, our sneaky Chihuahua, and Bella, a terrier who growled at everyone. Oh, and we had three rabbits too. Cute, but also feisty."

Taehyung laughs, "I sense a theme going on."

"What theme?"

"Well," he grins, "It seems like your household was filled with some strong main characters."

You chuckle at his joke. "Yeah, our house was never quiet, that's for sure. Each one had their own personality and quirks."

"You don't have any now though? Pets, I mean," Taehyung asks.

"Sadly, I don't," you reply with a hint of regret. "The company takes up a lot of my time, and I don't think it would be right to leave a pet alone for extended periods. I might consider getting another cat, but right now, focusing on running the company leaves me with little spare time. I miss having them around though."

Taehyung mulls over your word carefully. “If I ever get out of this hospital...maybe I—”

Before he has the chance to finish, the hospital room door opens, and Dr. Min enters, his expression serious yet composed. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, not expecting to see you still here and Taehyung awake. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he begins, glancing between you and his patient. “It’s good to see you up and looking a bit better."

Dr. Min approaches Taehyung's side, opposite to you. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Taehyung's demeanor shifts instantly, his playful expression fading as he turns to answer. “Pretty sore, honestly,” he replies.

Dr. Min nods. “Let’s run a few checks to see how you’re doing.”

Sensing this is your cue to leave, you rise from your chair and reach out to touch Taehyung's hand. But you stop yourself short. Something about performing the physical action while he’s fully conscious instills a flutter of nerves within you. Instead, you gently tap his shoulder, causing him to meet your eyes. “I think I'll be going now, but it was nice talking to you,” you say softly. "Was there something you wanted to say earlier, though?"

He pauses for a moment before replying, his expression reminiscent of the time a few weeks ago when you declined his dinner invitation. You still don’t understand why he seemed somewhat disappointed; it's not like it was a date. He had made it clear he wanted to go out as colleagues. The only reason you declined was because you didn’t want him feeling pity for you, or the struggles that came with the divorce.

"It's okay, we'll have to save that conversation for another time," Taehyung's voice brings you back to the present. "Enjoy the rest of your day, __. Thanks again for staying with me."

"Of course," you reply, then turn to Dr. Min. "If you wouldn't mind letting me know when and if he can be discharged, I'd appreciate it. And Kim Namjoon too, since we're both nearby." Dr. Min nods in agreement. With that, you sling your bag over your shoulder and exit the room.

“He said what?!” Your best friend Jimin almost shouts through the video call, eyes wide with disbelief. You’ve just finished recounting your ex-husband's unexpected, drunken confession from the previous night. Jimin, who already holds a deep-seated grudge against Jungkook, looks livid.

“He had the nerve to say that to you? While he was drunk?” Jimin continues, his hands clenching into fists.

You nod, feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “Yeah, I told him not to call my number again and he hasn't contacted me since.” As expected, he likely forgot all about it.

“Good,” Jimin declares with a fierce protectiveness, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You don’t need that kind of drama in your life, especially not from him. And if he even thinks about calling you again, just say the word, and I'll come down there and handle it personally.” He emphasizes 'personally' with such intensity that it makes you giggle for the first time tonight.

“Thanks, Jimin,” you say, a warm feeling spreading through you at his unwavering support. “I’m just trying to move on, focus on work, and other things.”

Jimin’s expression softens, and he nods firmly. “You're incredibly strong, __. Are you really okay though? It was a huge blow for him to make a confession like that and even though I dislike him, I know you still have some lingering feelings for him. I'm not a fool to believe you're unaffected.”

You take a deep breath, appreciating your best friend's perceptiveness. “It’s complicated. I’m trying so hard to move past everything, especially with Melody's help, and then he just…throws that at me. It’s like he’s trying to pull me back into his mess.”

Jimin’s eyes are filled with concern. “You don’t owe him anything. Remember that. He made his choices, and you have every right to move on without his baggage.”

“I know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “It’s just…easier said than done. But I’m working on it.”

“You’re doing great,” Jimin reassures, his voice gentle. “And you have every right to focus on yourself now. Don’t let him mess with your head.”

You nod, feeling a bit lighter with the support. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“I'm always here for you love,” he says, his protective demeanor softening into a warm smile. “Now, enough about that idiot. How’s everything else? Work? Taehyung? Everyone at the office is talking about his unfortunate accident, poor sucker.”

At the mention of your colleague, you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks. Did the heaters in your apartment just turn up or something?

“He’s slowly recovering," you answer. "I saw him this morning and we talked for a bit. He’s... he’s been through a lot.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, “You saw him yesterday too, right? And if my memory serves, you were at the hospital with him until the afternoon. I remember I texted you to see if you were free to call earlier than planned. Something you'd like to tell me?” A teasing grin suddenly spreads across his face, and you shake your head, knowing exactly what he's insinuating. It's like talking to Dr. Min all over again.

“Seriously, Chim, no, it's not like that," you deny instantly, heart racing a little. "He's been my company endorser for a little over six months now, and he’s been nothing but kind to me. With everything he’s been through, I just want to make sure he'll be okay. I feel somewhat responsible for him. Maybe I'm crazy.”

“Responsibility, huh?” Jimin smirks, unconvinced of your denial. “Sure. Because ‘responsibility’ usually makes people blush.”

You wave off his suspicions, a nervous chuckle escaping you. “I’m not, so if you wouldn't mind ceasing your teasing, that'd be great."

“Okay, okay,” Jimin chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you ask me, it sounds like more than just responsibility. Taehyung seems like a sweet guy, and you care about him. And I sense he feels the same way about you. Don't think I forgot about his little dinner request weeks back.”

You chuckle, brushing off his suspicions. “Oh, come on, enough. Believing that Kim Taehyung has any kind of interest in me is like believing that Jungkook loves me. It’s unfathomable. Taehyung's a colleague, that’s all.”

“Okay, excuse me? Unfathomable?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Someone help! My best friend is selling themselves short, again. __, you’re amazing, and anyone, including Taehyung, would be lucky to have you. That ex-husband of yours was an idiot, but just because he couldn't see what he had doesn’t mean others can’t.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but Jimin’s words hit a soft spot. “Chim, you're sweet, but I'm just saying that Taehyung is on a completely different level. I’m just me... a 30-year-old divorcee with a half-decent startup.” Those alone are enough to have any man steer clear of you.

“Stop this, __. You're much more than that, and it's pretty damn incredible,” Jimin insists, his voice firm. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still standing. That’s not something to brush off. Taehyung sees that. Anyone with half a brain can see that.”

You sigh, feeling a mixture of gratitude and skepticism. “I appreciate it, Chim. But let’s just drop it, please?”

“Alright, I won't push it," he concedes gently, "just know I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably explode from all that bottled-up stress,” he jokes, making you laugh again. “But seriously, you’re doing great. Just keep taking it one step at a time, and call me if you need anything!”

As the call ends, you’re left with a lot to think about. Jimin’s words echo in your mind, and for a brief second, you find yourself wondering if maybe your best friend is right—that perhaps you do care about your colleague more than you’re willing to admit.

Well, either way, it doesn't matter; you've got enough on your plate as it is.

Starting with the stack of papers laid out on the coffee table, work you brought home that's awaiting your attention. It's a critical deal for your startup, one that could secure much-needed funding and propel your business to the next level.

Sighing softly, you reach for your laptop and open the latest project proposal.

You start your Sunday as you always do, with a book in hand, heading to your favorite café. It’s a ritual that’s been with you since your teenage years, and today, you feel a desperate need for its familiar comfort. After wrapping up the project proposal late into the night, your brain craved a break.

Entering the quaint café, you’re greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding a cozy spot by the large window, you settle in for a day of reading, occasionally looking up to observe people passing by outside.

Hours slip away unnoticed in the serene atmosphere, lost in the pages of your book. Somewhere along the way, mid-sentence, your thoughts subconsciously drift to a conversation with Taehyung weeks before his accident—the day of your six-month anniversary.

You remember how he mentioned his interest in books that day, leaving you curious about what he enjoys reading. You imagine he might be into classic authors like Charles Dickens or Oscar Wilde. Then again, you might be mistaken.

Refocusing on your book, you manage to read another paragraph before thoughts of Taehyung intrude again. Did he have any company today? You quietly hope Namjoon paid him a visit. "Okay, __, calm down," you tell yourself, "Taehyung will be fine, and Namjoon definitely would have visited him now that he's awake." With a determined effort, you return to your book.

It isn't until the sun begins its descent that you decide it's time to pack up your things and head home. Passing by the hospital on your way, a sense of restlessness tugs at you once more. Should you stop and see Taehyung, even if only for a few minutes? The thought lingers, but then you recall Dr. Min's pending update on his discharge status. Maybe it's best to wait for his confirmation.

You continue driving, but the concern refuses to leave your mind. Eventually, you make a decisive turn, heading back towards the hospital. It wouldn't be as lengthy as last time—just a quick visit to check on how he's doing.

When you arrive at the hospital, you hesitate for a moment outside the entrance. It's Sunday evening, and visiting hours are likely limited. You check your phone quickly to see if Dr. Min has sent any updates, but there's nothing new.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to go in anyway.

Taehyung is awake when the nurse leads you to his room, casually flipping through a magazine. He looks up, his expression softening into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hey," you say softly, stepping inside. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by. I hope it's okay."

"It's more than okay," he replies warmly, setting the magazine aside. "I'm happy to see you."

You nod, feeling relieved that he isn't disturbed by your presence.

"Though, in all honesty," he continues, "I didn't expect you back today."

"I just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," you admit quietly, taking a seat nearby. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm better, just a bit sore still," he says sincerely, his gaze meeting yours. "What about you? How's your Sunday been?"

"Quiet," you respond with a small smile. "Spent most of it reading at a café, and then decided to stop by here."

"Really?" His interest piqued, he asks, "Which one? Sometimes I do the same thing when I have some free time. Or, I'll read at the beach too. It's relaxing."

"Well, have you tried the one on Willow Street? I've been a regular there since I was 16."

"No... I'm not familiar with that one," he admits, "I usually go to the one on 5th."

"5th? You know, I don't recall a café on 5th, unless..." you pause, realization dawning, "oh no," you blurt out unintentionally.

"What?" Taehyung's eyes twinkle with amusement at your spontaneous reaction. "Have you been?"

You hesitate to answer, not wanting to risk offending him.

"Yes..."

"And?" Crap, you were hoping he wouldn't ask for details.

"Um... it's okay," you reply simply.

"What? Just okay?" Taehyung exclaims, feigning offense. "Their coffee and tea are decent, and they have those comfy armchairs by the window."

"I know, but there's just something about it," you reply with a playful shrug. "Maybe it's the lighting, or maybe I'm just picky."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "Maybe I'll check out this Willow Street café sometime. You've been going there for years, so it must be good."

"Well, I highly recommend it." You can't help but feel a bit smug, though you try to keep a straight face. It's just nice to have someone take your suggestion seriously. "You'll have to tell me your review of the place if you go."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully in reply, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. You look away, pretending to straighten your jacket. Why is he staring like that? You're not used to being looked at without some sense of hostility.

Just as you begin to feel a bit awkward, the door swings open, and a nurse peeks inside.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says kindly, "but visiting hours are over for the evening."

You glance at your watch, surprised at how quickly time has flown. "Oh, okay," you reply, a touch disappointed. "I'll be heading out then, thank you."

Once the nurse leaves, you direct your focus back to Taehyung. He smiles understandingly, sitting up a bit straighter. "Thanks for stopping by," he says warmly.

"Yeah, of course," you reply, gathering your things. "Did Dr. Min mention having you discharged any time soon?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing yet. Might be here for a couple more days."

You nod, feeling sympathy for his extended stay. "Well, take care of yourself, okay? Let me know if you need anything."

"I will," Taehyung assures you with a grateful smile. He watches as you make your way to the door, but just before you can twist the metal knob, he speaks up agian. "Uhm...if you have time tomorrow, I wouldn't mind if you came in again. It was nice to...chat."

For the first time, Taehyung seems to stumble over his words. As someone who's naturally charismatic, not to mention a skilled actor, there's a hint of nervousness in his voice.

When you turn your head to glance back at him, his smile has faded, replaced by a hopeful look, hands gently clutching the blankets.

"Sure," you agree to his innocent request, somehow unable to resist. "I'll try to stop in tomorrow if I can."

His boxy smile returns instantly as he bids you one final goodnight.

As you walk out of the room, that same smile lingers in your mind—you're glad you decided to come by.

In the days that follow, you find yourself at Taehyung's hospital bed every evening after work. Initially fulfilling his wishes, you gradually realize you've grown fond of his company. Taehyung turns out to be easy to talk to, a good listener who encourages questions you wouldn't normally ask within office walls. Here you are again, immersed in yet another spontaneous conversation that neither of you minds.

"So, what's it really like?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your voice. "Being an actor? And what about kissing strangers? I've heard some co-stars end up together after playing an onscreen couple for so long."

Taehyung chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Being an actor is both exhilarating and challenging," he begins, reflecting on his experiences. "Kissing scenes... well, they're not as glamorous as they seem on screen. There are a lot of technical aspects to consider, like camera angles and timing. As for getting involved with co-stars outside of filming, I wouldn't be familiar with that. I prefer to keep those lines pretty separate."

You listen intently, fascinated by his insights into a world so different from your own. But one thing sticks out to you—how does he handle kissing scenes if he were to be in a relationship? Wouldn't that get complicated?

"I often wonder what I'd do if I had a partner," Taehyung muses suddenly, his voice thoughtful, as if sensing your unspoken question. "About the kiss scenes, I mean. I haven't actually dated for a while." Really? You think, he cant be serious...

"I'd imagine they'd be understanding since it's part of the job," you offer, trying to match his contemplative tone.

"Is that how you'd respond?" Taehyung's question catches you off guard.

"Me?" you ask, feeling slightly dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I'm just curious. Would you be okay with that?"

"Uhm... well, honestly, probably not," you admit, feeling a bit awkward. "I think I'd have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. I'd kind of feel like I was sharing my partner. I don't want to share like that."

Shut up, shut up, shut up, you mentally chastise yourself. You definitely said too much.

To your surprise, Taehyung merely gives a small smile in response. "I think I'd feel the same," he says softly.

The subject ends there, as the conversation soon shifts to his latest project instead—a romantic comedy series titled with a playful nod to a four-leaf clover.

"You know, I've never seen a four-leaf clover in my life," you admit with a slight chuckle.

Taehyung laughs softly, his eyes brightening. "Really? They're supposed to bring good luck, you know."

"Good luck, huh? I guess I've never had the pleasure," you replied with a grin.

"Well, then it's settled," he declared with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'll find one for you once I'm out of here," he promises warmly.

You smile, exchanging a silent moment before hitting him with your next question. "Do you watch your own shows or movies?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Taehyung's expression shifts subtly, his gaze momentarily distant. "Honestly, I don't," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "I guess I've always felt a bit awkward seeing myself on screen. It's strange, right?"

You reassure him with a smile. "It's not so far-fetched, but I don't think there's anything to be embarrassed about. You're talented, Taehyung. I'm sure your performances are amazing."

Taehyung nods thoughtfully but then quirks an eyebrow at you. "But have you actually seen any of my work? It's a little cheesy."

You hesitate, feeling a touch sheepish. "Honestly, no," you confess. "I've never watched any of your shows or movies. But I will!"

A flicker of déjà vu crosses Taehyung's face, his expression turning thoughtful. "That's funny," he murmurs. "I feel like I've heard those exact words before, recently."

You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He can't be referring to that night you spoke to him while he was asleep, right? "Maybe it's just a sign that I need to catch up on all the great acting I've been missing out on," you quip, hoping to diffuse any awkwardness.

Taehyung grins, his playful demeanor returning. "Well, I'll hold you to that. You'll have to give me your honest review."

"Deal," you agree with a nod. "So, as much as I hate to cut this short, I think I'm going to have to get going now."

"I understand, it's past 6:30 pm. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," you reply warmly. "Get some rest."

By Thursday afternoon, you finally receive the long-awaited call from Dr. Min, informing you that Taehyung will be discharged the next morning. You're relieved that Taehyung is healthy enough to continue his recovery at home. Seeing him yesterday, he looked the best he's been since his accident. However, a small part of you feels annoyed that Dr. Min didn't call you—he called Namjoon instead.

It was an ordinary afternoon when your secretary's phone rang. Namjoon was crouched over at his desk, concentrating on a number of spreadsheets just moments before. You remember leaping over to him as soon as you heard the words, "he's ready for discharge tomorrow," leave his lips.

It's now Friday morning, and you're standing in front of your secretary's desk.

"So, you're off to pick up Taehyung now?" you ask, as casually as you can. You do your best to ignore the lingering irritation growing inside you.

"Yeah," your secretary finally replies, glancing up from his screen. "I'll drive over to the hospital in about half an hour."

"Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. So what if Namjoon gets to pick him up instead of you? It's fine, you should get over it.

It's just a little odd that Dr. Min chose to call Namjoon instead of you though. You know for a fact you've been much more involved with Taehyung's well-being than he has.

Of course, Taehyung and Namjoon are good friends, but your secretary has only gone to see him twice over the past week his buddy's been in the hospital. You've been there every day, so wouldn't it make sense that you be called first?

Evidently not.

Namjoon will be taking Taehyung home, and you likely won't be seeing him at all today. In fact, you're not even sure when you'll see him next. Technically, you have his address stored away in an HR file, but you're no creep. And you most certainly are not about to show up at his place unannounced.

It's not like Taehyung has texted you today either. Not even a quick update on his condition.

"Um..." Namjoon starts, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Is there something else you wanted to say? I feel like you're kinda hovering over me now, to be quite honest."

"Oh, sorry," you respond, stepping back a bit. You didn't realize you were staring at him, wordless, for longer than normal. "Nothing else. Drive safe."

As if seeing right through you, Namjoon's expression softens. "If you want to see how Taehyung is, you can just text him. I'm sure he'll respond to you."

"No, it's okay," you quickly dismiss the suggestion. You don't want to bombard a man who's just getting out of the hospital with your texts. You'll leave him alone to rest.

Namjoon gives you a knowing look, eyeing your slightly hesitant state. "I'm serious, boss. Text him. You've been at his side this entire week, so if there's anyone who'd be more deserving of knowing what's up, it’d be you."

Deserving? That's a bit far, is it not? Yes, you've been visiting him, but it's not like you saved his life or anything. It's not that big of a deal. You just wanted to...make sure he was okay.

"I—When did you decide to call me boss again?" you switch subjects, but Namjoon remains unaffected.

"Text him," Namjoon says for the final time before reaching for his keys in his desk drawer. "I gotta get going, but I'll be back after I drop Tae off."

"Tae?" You haven't heard him called that before.

"Yeah, it's kinda a pet name. Sorry, I started calling him that once we became friends, so it slips out here and there. It's like second nature now."

"Got it," you nod, a bit disappointed. Maybe you weren't as close to Taehyung as you thought. "Make sure he gets home okay," you finish.

"I will." Namjoon gets up from his desk and heads out of the office. You turn around and return to your own office once he's out of sight.

While Namjoon is out, his phone rings incessantly. You find yourself getting up from your desk multiple times to take calls. By the afternoon, you're exhausted from the constant interruptions.

Maybe you should consider giving the poor man a raise.

Before the thought fully develops, his phone rings again. You don't even bother checking the caller ID anymore; you simply pick up the phone and answer in your sweetest voice.

"__? I thought I’d be hearing Namjoon first... hey," his voice is hesitant. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

"Jungkook," you reply cautiously, instantly recognizing his voice. "Why are you calling my work phone?"

"I... I didn't know how else to reach you. Can I come in or can you come into the parking lot? I have something to give you."

You pause, feeling a rush of unease. You haven’t spoken to Jungkook since last Friday when he called you out of the blue. Honestly, you hoped you wouldn’t hear from him, especially after telling him not to call again. It's strange that he keeps finding ways to show up unexpectedly.

"What is it you need to give me, Jungkook?" you ask bluntly, "I'm very busy."

There’s a brief silence on the other end before he answers, "It’s... It’s something personal. I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Please, can you just come down for a moment?"

You weigh your options, torn between curiosity and apprehension. His unpredictability lately has left you unsure of what to expect. "Jungkook, I really don’t think—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice sounding more urgent. "I promise it won’t take long."

Taking a deep breath, you decide to handle this with as much grace as you can muster. "Fine. I’ll be down in a minute."

You end the call and sit back, trying to steady your thoughts. His sudden request feels odd, and part of you worries about what he might say or do next. As you make your way to the parking lot, you mentally prepare yourself for another potentially difficult encounter.

When you arrive, Jungkook stands near his car, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His usual confident demeanor seems replaced by a sense of unease.

"Hey," he starts, his voice tentative, "thanks for agreeing to meet."

You give a brief nod, keeping your tone neutral. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Jungkook shifts awkwardly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours. "I wanted to apologize," he continues, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for calling you up drunk."

You feel a flicker of irritation. This is what he wanted to give you? An apology that's seven days late? You figured he would have just forgone the apology by now.

"Why now?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, a defense mechanism you've developed. "It's been a week. I’m not sure if you realize that or not though."

"I know," he says quickly, his eyes earnest. "I wanted to come sooner, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me or just never hear from me again."

You scoff slightly, "Well, for the first time, you are completely right. I don't want to see you, Jungkook." You try to keep your voice steady, but the raw edges of your emotions bleed through. There’s no point sugarcoating it at this stage; he’ll just keep pushing your boundaries if you don’t become firm with him.

He winces at your words, nodding slowly. "You have every right to feel that way. I messed up, big time. I just wanted you to know that I'm truly sorry. You deserve someone who isn't as screwed up as I am. But I still mean everything I said that night. I do love you. It took me until now to realize that, apparently."

You sigh, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Love? Now? After everything? Somehow, it feels more like a burden than anything.

"Jungkook, love isn't a get-out-of-jail-free card," you say slowly, your voice somewhat shaky. "It's not something you can just throw out there to fix things. Not only did you divorce me, but you also led me to believe we could actually be something. All those weeks of you being attentive and showing up for me after I shared my feelings made me believe that you were honestly trying to make our marriage work, that you were committed. You lied to me, discarded me, and now that I'm not around, you suddenly miss me? No, I'm sorry. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just apologize away."

You pause, feeling the weight of your words settle in the tense air between you and Jungkook.

He looks down, nodding again. "I get it. I really do. And I don't expect you to forgive me or anything. I just wanted you to know that I understand how much I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me."

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions threatening to stir inside. "Jungkook," you begin carefully, meeting his eyes. "What happened between us was painful. You calling me drunk last week was also painful. I'm sorry about the challenges you had with your parents, but it's no excuse to put that on others. If you need someone to discuss personal matters with, I suggest you see a professional."

You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't hate you, okay? I'm not that cold-hearted. There's still part of me that I think might always hold space for you, but I can't just forget everything. I need to move on, and that means you can't keep calling me at random times. It’s not fair to either of us. I appreciate the apology, but I don't think we can go much further."

He nods solemnly, understanding your stance. "Okay," Jungkook replies softly, his voice filled with a sadness you hadn’t expected. "I understand. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Take care of yourself, okay? I...I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me," he says, his eyes earnest. "And... I'm really sorry for everything."

He begins to back away toward his car, and as he does, it hits you—it’s over.

"Take care, Jungkook," you say gently. "Don't overwork yourself, alright? Stay healthy."

He looks at you, forcing a smile. "You know I can't do that. It isn't in my blood." He sings the last part, referencing a song you both used to joke about, and you let out a small chuckle despite yourself.

"God, Jeon, I thought you'd stop with that song by now." you say, shaking your head.

"Nah," he replies, shaking his head with a faint grin as he opens his car door. "I'm taking it to my grave. I'll see you later, __."

You know the last part is a lie, an empty promise to soften the blow. Still, you respond, "Yeah, see you."

With that, you part ways in the parking lot, each going your separate ways. As you walk back to your office, the weight of the finality settles in. It's all over, you think, feeling the sting of a single tear trailing down your cheek. Unbeknownst to you, a similar tear streams down Jungkook's face as he drives away, each tear falling for completely different reasons.

Two weeks pass, and Jungkook keeps his word. He hasn’t called, texted, or shown up at your work. It’s as if he’s become a stranger, someone you once knew but is now part of a distant past.

Your days begin to regain a sense of normalcy. The emotional weight of the past few months slowly starts to lift, allowing you to refocus on your work and personal well-being. The company demands your attention, and you dive into projects, meetings, and strategies with a renewed energy.

Yet, despite the return to routine, there's a persistent sense of something missing. You haven’t talked to Taehyung at all since he got discharged from the hospital. You haven’t seen him either, and the silence pulls at you more each day.

Every time you try to get information about him from Namjoon, he gives you the same response: "Just text him. Don’t overthink it; he’ll be glad to hear from you." Once, you sensed that Namjoon wanted to say more but stopped himself short, making the excuse that it wasn’t for him to say. Whatever that meant.

You’re on your way home from running errands when the thought enters your mind for the umpteenth time: should you text Taehyung?

You’re torn between respecting his privacy and wanting to check in on him. He hasn’t reached out, so maybe he’s trying to distance himself or just needs time to recover alone, now that he’s in the comfort of his own home. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling that checking in would be the right thing to do.

As you approach your apartment building, you pull over into a quiet parking spot, letting your car idle. Gripping your phone, you take a deep breath and finally decide to text him.

You: Hey, Taehyung. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. Let me know if you need anything. We still miss you at the office!

You stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The butterflies in your stomach flutter as you wait. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he doesn't want to hear from you?

You end up deleting the message entirely.

Forget it, you think, if he wanted to hear from you he would have texted by now, right? Just leave it alone. You said you'd support him while he was in the hospital and you did. Now he needs his space to finish healing. He'll reach out when he's ready.

Your phone buzzes the next minute, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glance at it, half hoping that Taehyung was secretly telepathic. But it isn’t from him. Instead, it’s a notification from a friend inviting you to a small get-together this coming weekend.

Smiling, you accept the invitation.

Turns out your friend's get-together was a singles mixer. Unsurprisingly, you weren't approached much, if at all. It seemed the men were either too nervous, still associating you with your ex-husband, or not quite into accomplished women. That didn't stop them from ogling you, though, as your friend insisted that you dress for the affair. You didn't choose anything flashy, but it was certainly flattering.

Leaving without a phone number didn't bother you, though. At thirty years old, most of the people were younger than you, including your friend who was a couple of years younger. Plus, you found your mind often wandering to the one man you hadn't heard from in nearly three weeks—Kim Taehyung. Should you stop overthinking and finally listen to Namjoon's suggestion? Maybe it's time to contact him.

Lost in thought on your drive home, you snap back to reality when you slam on the brakes at a sudden red light. Damn, you hadn't noticed it change so quickly. Shaking off any lingering daze, you refocus and spot a man crossing the street ahead, a little dog trotting beside him on a leash.

"Taehyung," you whisper to yourself. "What is he doing out here, especially on this slipper—shit!"

Your heart skips a beat as Taehyung stumbles on the ice, struggling to keep his balance. Concerned, you pull up to the side of the road as soon as the light turns green, parking quickly and jumping out of your car to rush over to him. He leans against a brick building, his dog, Tan, yelping at your approach. Cute little guy, but you're focus is on Taehyung.

"Damn," he mutters, trying to steady himself. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you. "__, I—" he begins.

"What are you doing, Kim Taehyung?" you scold gently. "Are you trying to hurt yourself again?"

Taehyung meets your gaze, his Gucci scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. "No," he replies earnestly. "I just needed some fresh air. It's been nearly three weeks since I was discharged, and Dr. Min said short walks with Tan are okay now. My parents were here for a while, but they left this weekend."

His explanation sinks in as you take in his appearance. Despite the chill in the air, he looks better than the last time you saw him. His cheeks are slightly flushed from the cold, and there's a determination in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"You should be more careful," you reply softly, stepping closer to him. Tan, sensing the shift in attention, continues to bark happily, tail wagging. "Are you okay? My car is right here, if you need me to take you home or anything."

Taehyung nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know, I know. Sorry for worrying you." He gestures to Tan, who is now circling around your legs in excitement. "Tan here doesn't seem to mind the ice at all, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind you either."

You chuckle softly, crouching down to pet the little dog. "Is he usually this friendly?"

"Not at first, no," Taehyung replies, his tone lighter now. He glances down at you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It's been...a while."

You nod, standing to your feet. "It has. I'm glad to see you're doing better."

"I am," he affirms, his gaze steady on yours. "Thanks to you, mostly. You were there for me when I needed it the most."

"Oh, come on," you say, waving off the comment. "I didn't do that much."

Taehyung's smile widens, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You did more than you realize."

You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you maintain eye contact, appreciating the warmth in his gaze. The longer you stand there, staring at each other, the uneasier you feel. Perhaps you shouldn't ask the question that's been on your mind, but it slips out before you can stop it.

"Why didn't you call?" you ask, surprising both yourself and Taehyung as he simultaneously voices the exact same question.

Taken aback by the simultaneous question, you both chuckle nervously, breaking the tension. Taehyung scratches the back of his neck, sheepish.

"I thought about it every day," he admits, his voice quiet but sincere. "But I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me. I already took so much of your time, and I didn't want to ask more from you. So, I asked Namjoon to pick me up from the hospital. I thought maybe it would be better for me to wait for you to reach out and focus on recovering."

You nod, understanding flooding your expression. "I felt quite similar. I thought maybe you asked Namjoon because he's your friend. I didn't want to hound you when you just got released from the hospital, so I decided to let you recover in peace. I guess in the end, I was also waiting for you to reach out with an update of some kind."

Taehyung takes a few seconds to fully absorb your words before replying. "I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes reflecting genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was avoiding you. I would have been more than happy with you picking me up instead of Namjoon. I realize that I should have at least reached out to update you instead of going silent. I'd like to think of you as my friend too. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I just didn't want to burden you." His gaze becomes downcast as he stares at the ground beneath him.

You're unsure where you find the courage, but you bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, gently lifting his face so he meets your eyes. You have to stand on your tiptoes a bit, which he finds endearing.

"I’d like to consider you my friend too, and that means you shouldn't worry about burdening me anymore, Tae," you say softly, your touch lingering momentarily on his face, caught up in the moment. When you realize what you've done, you pull back slightly, flustered. "Um… sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," he responds, his voice gentle. "I don't mind. You can call me Tae from now on if you'd like. Also, you're not a burden either, you never were to me."

You're speechless for a second before replying. "So, friends then?" you ask. "No more mixed signals and reaching out when we want?"

"I mean, I’d like that as long as you do too," he confirms with a warm smile, though his eyes say there's more that he's left unsaid. You don't notice, however.

"Text me whenever you have something on your mind," he continues.

"I will," you promise. “You too.”

"Definitely.” Taehyung pauses, glancing down at Tan who's decided to lay down by his feet. "So, I was going to take a walk with Tan at the park nearby. Any chance you'd like to join me?" His gaze shifts back to you, hopeful yet uncertain.

"I'd like that," you reply genuinely. "But we're taking my car over, so you don't break a hip on this ice, old man."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open as he shakes his head. "How many times do I need to tell you? I'm only two years older than you. Two!"

It's surreal.

How much you and Taehyung have started becoming friends, that is.

Almost two months have already passed, and it feels like just yesterday you were merely colleagues, you his boss.

Saturdays have become your day with Taehyung now. While part of you insists it's to prevent him from slipping on the ice again, deep down, you both know there's more to it now that he's almost fully recovered from his injuries.

Each weekend, you find yourselves exploring different parks and streets, swapping childhood stories, and sharing laughter over the dumbest things. Today, however, would be different. With rain threatening to drench the city, Taehyung suggested a change of plans—a cozy movie day indoors. Little did he know, you had a surprise in store for him.

You dash up to the front door, a bag of homemade food in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

Taehyung opens the door with a grin, holding his own umbrella. "Hey! Perfect timing," he chuckles, taking the umbrella from you and gesturing inside. "Come in. It's freezing out there today."

You step inside, shaking off the raindrops and removing your shoes. The warmth of his home envelopes you, a comforting contrast to the chilly rain outside.

"I brought something," you announce, holding up the bag. "Guess what it is?"

Taehyung looks at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "Hmm," he muses, pretending to ponder. "Knowing you, it's probably my favorite spicy chicken wings from that place near your office."

"Very close, Tae. Except these chicken wings were made by your favorite person in the whole world," you tease, handing him the bag with a grin.

Taehyung's eyes lit up as he takes the bag from you. "No way," he says, a mix of disbelief and excitement in his voice. "You made them yourself? You're the best, __. Seriously."

"It's the least I could do," you reply with a smile, following him into the living room where the TV flickers. "Besides, it's pouring out there. Movie day with good food seems like the perfect plan."

"Absolutely," he agrees, setting the food down on the coffee table. "I was thinking we could start with that new action flick I heard about."

"Aww, but I thought you said we could watch one of your movies instead?" you argue playfully, sinking into the couch. Tan bounds over, wagging his tail in excitement at the prospect of company. You scratch behind his ears while Taehyung sets up the movie.

"What? I don't remember saying that. Was I drunk that day?" he jokes.

"Well... maybe?" you tease back.

"I told you, __, I don't like watching my own films. It's weird, and half the time it's me kissing the female lead. You're going to need to watch those on your own time," he quips, his tone more serious than intended. The truth is, he really would rather not be there when you watch him kiss his co-stars.

"Alright, alright, getting aggressive over there," you chuckle, not seeing the faint rosy tint that's crept up on his cheeks. "We'll watch the action movie."

As the opening scenes roll, you can't help but steal glances at Taehyung. Despite the seriousness of his recent health issues, he seems more at ease today, a genuine smile gracing his face as he takes a seat beside you. It feels good to see him like this, relaxed and feeling more like himself.

Halfway through the movie, he nudges you gently. "Thanks for coming over today," he says softly, his gaze warm as it meets yours. "And for the food, of course."

"You don't have to thank me," you reply sincerely, nudging him back with a smile. "I'm happy to do it."

Unexpectedly, Taehyung reaches for the TV remote, pausing the scene playing in front of you. "Hey, __," he says, turning to face you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes as they shift from side to side.

"What is it, Tae?" You feel a slight unease, sensing tension. He's once again just staring into your eyes, wordless.

"Do you..." he starts but stops short, his voice trailing off.

"Yes?" You search his face for clues as to what he's trying to say.

"Would you want to go to a party with my family?" he finally asks, his words coming out in a rush. "My parents are hosting to celebrate my recovery, but really it's just an excuse to get the family together."

"So, a family reunion?" Your voice drops slightly, a mix of surprise and...disappointment? Why had you been expecting something different?

"I mean, yes, sort of. You don't have to if you don't want to," he adds quickly, almost anxiously. "I know it might be uncomfortable for you, but you've been here for me during so much of my recovery. It would mean a lot to have you there. My parents want to meet you too."

"Um... well, I've never been to a family function before," you admit hesitantly.

"You haven't?" Taehyung looks genuinely surprised.

You shake your head. "My family's never been one to do those types of things."

"Well, consider yourself part of my family then. Come with me, __. They'll love you."

"I-I don't know about that," you say softly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. "How can you be so sure that they'll like me?"

"Because I do," he urges gently, "and if I like you, so will they."

You're taken aback by his words, unsure how to respond. Surely he means this in a platonic way. Despite growing closer, you and Taehyung are just friends, setting aside any previous suspicions of romantic interest. Maybe if circumstances were different—if you weren't divorced—then maybe you could entertain the idea.

For now, you'll leave that side of him alone and simply be his friend. You feel a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

"Okay," you finally say, nodding your head. "I'll come. When is it?"

"They want to do it next weekend, weather permitting. We can carpool if you'd like, or you can take your own car," he offers.

"I'll think about it," you reply, trying to process the unexpected turn of events.

"Great." Taehyung flashes a boxy grin. "Thank you, I was so nervous to ask."

"Of course," you say, offering a tight-lipped smile. Taehyung unpauses the movie, and you return your attention to the TV screen. Minutes following your phone buzzes and a text message from Jimin appears on your screen.

Chim 🐥: __! Hate to be bringing this up, but have you seen the news about Jungkook? Looks like he's preparing to step down as CEO. Did you know about this?"

What? You had no clue.

a/n: If you are mad at me, well....I'm sorry but pls blame jk instead. But I am hoping you enjoyed! 🥰 vote jjk or kth

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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[etfrin]

— ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀɴꜱ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ? | ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ

✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | subby to soft dom! Spencer, fem! Reader, insecure Reader in the beginning, Spencer gets punched once, oral sex (male receiving), blood kink if you squint, praise kink if you squint, no use of y/n, uses of nicknames such as baby, sweetheart etc, fingering (female receiving), squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation if you squint | lmk if I forgot something!

✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: A blind date with Dr. Spencer Reid ends in a surprising manner, including a spilt lip and a thief

✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.6k

✧— ᴀ/ɴ: probably one of my most favourite work I ever wrote, please give it love <33

「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」

You were on a blind date with Dr. Spencer Reid.

Penelope had set you both up, and you had agreed to the date because there was no harm in it. The man himself was punctual meanwhile you were unfortunately ten minutes late. In your defense, you had to keep redoing your eyeliner.

You won't admit it to him when he asks why you were late. Instead, you said dismissively, “Oh, it's the traffic.” The stare he gave you assured you of the fact that he knew you were lying.

“The rush hour shouldn't begin in this area for another hour. Even then if you were truly stuck in traffic, you would have come even later,” he said as a matter of fact.

You raised your eyebrows in shock, your lips parting as you scoff. “Ah.. yes.. well..” You decided to let him know the truth, “It was actually because my eyeliner kept getting messed up and I had to redo it. I am sorry.”

“No need to apologize. The average woman spends about 22 and a half minutes getting ready when they go out,” he said, his fingers tapping on the table.

“Oh,” you said, taking in the fact, you suppress the urge to Google it to see if he's correct. “That's cool,” you smile softly at him.

The rest of the date goes averagely well. Spencer told you as much as he could about his work and you did the same. You learned about the man's IQ, and about the fact he was a genius. The longer the date goes on, you seem to realize you're not for someone who has achieved so many things at such a young age.

Your whole life was a mess. And Spencer noticed that you were hesitant to talk about yourself after finding out more about him. The date ended on a polite note. Despite the fact, you decided not to call him back, you liked him. He was sweet, a bit dorky but you liked hearing his random rants about things you never even thought about before.

The man insisted on walking you home and you agreed. It was a thirty-minute walk. As you both started walking, it was hard to keep pace with him. He had slowed down for you, and your hand kept brushing with his. But neither of you made the next move of simply holding hands.

You wanted to though.

Both of you continue walking in silence. You notice the full moon in the sky and grin. “The moon is so pretty,” you whispered.

“Yeah, very pretty,” Spencer mumbled back while looking at you.

You looked at him, and asked, “Wanna hold hands as well? It's kinda chilly.”

“I don't see how holding hands would help with the fact you're feeling cold. Would you like my jacket instead?”

You don't say anything, smiling at the agent so he would get the hint. He doesn't. You shake your head at yourself and state the obvious, “I would like to hold hands with you as we walk. Can I, Reid?”

He flushed, crimson covering his pale face. He stutters, “Ye- yes I would like that. And please call me Spencer.” He offers you his hand and you tangle your fingers with his. Within the next second the sweet moment is ruined.

A thief had come out of nowhere and had snatched your back. You stand there gaping at the figure that seems smaller by the second. Spencer didn't take a moment to react; he sprinted after the unsub. You get out of your stupor, your legs make you run towards the thief albeit slower than Spencer.

Spencer catches him. The agent gets punched but he quickly takes control of the situation. He twists the thief’s arm while you take your purse that was now on the street. You take out your phone and call the police. The police arrive soon.

Spencer handles everything and the thief is taken away. You notice that Spencer had a split lip and he was bleeding. “Hey,” you said, taking his attention away from the police. You raise your hand and you touch the cut. He winces.

“Sorry,” you mutter, “My house is right around the corner. I have first aid.” You add, knowing that he doesn't know how to take hints, “Come up?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. Fuck, he's adorable. Even with his perfect hair now a complete mess. He looked much, much better as a mess. You had to suppress the urge to lick the bead of blood on his lips.

“That would be nice,” he mumbles.

You bring the man to your apartment, Spencer has taken care of everything. You'll have to go to the police station tomorrow to give a statement. Right now, you focus on the pretty boy instead. You make him sit on the couch.

You bring out the first aid. You wet the cotton with the antiseptic, you sit in front of him. You already liked him. There's no denying that. But seeing him messy with blood turned you on to no fucking end. He was pretty before, now he's sexy to you. Your poor panties were suffering because of it. Completely utterly soaked with your arousal.

You act normal as you sit in front of him. You tilt his head and he lets you. Fuck. Even that made your cunt clench around nothing. You swallow as you press the bud onto his cut. He lets out a whimper. And... you felt yourself going insane, wanting to hear that sound on repeat.

You clean up the wound to the best of your abilities. You sit back satisfied. You grin at him, your hand musing his hair up because you just couldn't control yourself. “All done, pretty boy.”

You can't help but feel disappointed that it was over. He will leave. You'll drown in your own insecurities to ever ask for a second date. “You didn't like me much, did you?” Spencer asked. His hand is in his hair desperately trying to fix his ruined hairstyle.

You scoff playfully, “Why would you think that?”

“Most people I meet find me… overwhelming. Weird,” Spencer said, “I agreed to this date expecting nothing different. It was to satisfy Garcia. But… you were certainly nicer than the people I have met before. I would like to thank you for that.”

Your heart aches as you hear his words. You lean in, both of you sharing the same air now. Your hand is on his cheek, your thumb caressing his skin. “You're not weird, Spencer. You're unique. And you're out of my league. I am sorry if I made you feel bad-”

“No, you didn't,” he cuts you off, leaning in even closer. His eyebrows are furrowed as if he doesn't understand his actions. It was like you were gravity-pulling him in. Your lips brush with his, your breathing heavy. You can hear your heartbeat thumping against your ribcage.

“I never felt this way before,” he murmured, his hands getting tangled in your hair. His eyes were dark, and he closed them. He tried to pull back, trying to have a bit of self-control. He couldn't, he only leans in further, trying to close the gap between both of your lips.

“What way?” You whispered, wondering how you could make this man feel anything.

“I have an urge to kiss you. I have had that urge since you had bitten your lip nervously when I called you out in your childish lying. I have wanted to kiss you since you smiled at me genuinely as I was talking about things you as an average person couldn't possibly be interested in nor were you paying attention."

“Hey!” You chuckled, finding your way to his lap. “I was paying attention,” ‘To your lips’, you didn't add.

“Were you?” He challenged.

“Hmm,” you hum, your hands around his shoulders now. Your fingers twirling his hair near his nape.

“Liar,” he giggles. “I never thought I would find it endearing.”

Your heart warms as you hear his words. “Kiss me, Spencer,” you whispered, forgetting about his split lip. Spencer doesn't seem to care about the cut because he pressed his lips to yours as soon as he got your consent. You moan, your lips parting to welcome his tongue.

The kiss was clumsy. Wet, and sloppy and you loved it. The faint taste of blood coates your taste buds and you love it. Your tongue caresses his, trying to engrave his taste on your lips. You bite his lower lip, opening his cut. He hisses but doesn't break the kiss.

The kiss turns bloody but neither of you cares.

You rather enjoyed it more than you should. You lick the cut before kissing him again, he sucks your tongue tasting his blood on you. Both of you break the kiss before your lips meet his lips again in haste.

He groans into your mouth. You break the kiss and whisper, “Want you.” Your hands were on the hem of his sweater. “Can I?” You asked. He nods and you take it off. You then begin to unbutton the brown dress shirt he wore.

As soon as you get him undressed. Your hands begin to explore his body. He was lanky, and you loved it. He shivers when your finger tweaks his nipple. He sighs your name and you can feel his cock, hard and eager for attention beneath you.

“You like that, baby?” The nickname falls naturally from your lips. Your tongue ghosts over his neck, the hollow of his collarbone. He doesn't reply but you can feel his cock twitch. That's enough of an answer to you.

Your lips find his sensitive nipple. And you suck the hard pebble, enjoying his gasp. You smirk, as your tongue twirls against his sensitive flesh. Your hand gives his other nipple the same attention. You drag your tongue further down his stomach, your lips pressing wet kisses all over his heated skin. “Can I taste you, genius?” You whispered, your mouth took a bit of his skin to bite. You leave a mark of your teeth on his skin.

The mark looks good on him.

Spencer whines, “Yes, please.”

You unzip his pants, tug the cloth down, and free his legs of it. You were going to do the same for his boxers. But you decided to do something else. His boxer briefs were dark due to the pre-cum, one spot more prominent than others.

You place your lips there, and you suck his pre-cum that has seeped into the fabric. He groans at the sight, his eyes getting closed shut as his chest rises up and down. Spencer was breathing through his mouth. You find his cockhead, and suck harder, the material of the boxer getting darker and wetter because of your saliva.

Spencer moans your name, all loud and unabashed in the living room. With his moan comes a plea, “Don't tease, please.” You don't listen. Your tongue flicks over his clothed slit coaxing out more of his pre-cum. Only when you are satisfied with the mess you created, do you pull back. You snap the man back to reality by pulling the hem of his boxers and letting it snap on his skin. He whimpers, and you wonder briefly if he was as freaky as you. You wondered if he liked pain.

A discovery for another day.

You set him free from the confines of his boxers. His cock springs up, the cockhead hitting his stomach. The cockhead was a dark pink, bordering on a painful red. His cock was begging to cum with the way the veins were bulging, and his slit kept letting out beads of pre-cum. He was long enough to stretch out your cunt perfectly, he was thick enough to roll your eyes back.

He was… to describe this with a single word was impossible. All you knew was that you wanted his cum in your mouth, you wanted his cum painting your pussy walls. You wanted him. You wanted him ruined by you. You don't let a single thought of insecurity creep into your mind.

You distract yourself with his cock instead. You use your hand to squeeze more pre out of him. You enjoy the way the pearly white liquid drips onto your hand. You press a kiss to each of his balls. He gasps, both of his hands in a tight fist. His eyes were closed.

“Look at me, baby,” you whispered, “Look at me as I have my meal, baby.”

You lick all over his cockhead. You don't care if he opened his eyes or not. You were too busy moaning as you tasted him. Salty, and thick, you loved it.

Spencer Reid is now your favorite flavor.

You begin to take more of his cock in your mouth. Stopping halfway through his length because you didn't want to choke. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose before you hollow your mouth. You begin to suck, not giving a fuck about your technique. You're hungry. You're eating him up.

This was as simple as that.

Your tongue runs all over his shaft, and the corners of your lips have saliva and pre-cum oozing out. Making you look like an absolutely pathetic mess. Spencer whimpers as he looks at you, his hand coming down to gently wipe away the mess. Even when his mind was numb with pleasure, he managed to be sweet. You reward his sweetness with a harsh suck causing his hips to thrust forward. The action made you take more of his cock, and you choke.

He tries to pull out but you stop his ministrations with a sharp slap on his thigh. You glare at him despite the fact your view is blurry with tears. Spencer tenses before relaxing. “Sorry,” he groans, “I didn't mean to do that. Feels so good, sweetheart.”

The nickname is a melody to your ears. You begin to bob your head upside down. You blink, letting the tears fall, you see the way his knuckles were turning white from the fists he made. You put your hands over his fists and pry them open. You intertwined his fingers with yours. His nails now dig into your skin, and yours does the same. You both have crescent-shaped marks on each other's hands.

Your nails dig into his skin a bit harder as you slowly take more of his cock down your throat. You take him down to the hilt, your nose pressed into his mound and you breathe in his primal scent. It drives you fucking insane. It reminds you of your sopping wet cunt that is aching to be filled.

Your eyes roll back as you continue. You move a bit and find yourself between one of his legs. You pressed yourself against the shin of his leg. You moan, the vibration of the sound sends jolts of pleasure to the boy. He cums, all thick and hot down your throat without a warning.

You let his cock slip out of your mouth, you couldn't manage to swallow all of his cum. It coats your lower chin, you rest your head on his thigh as you begin to ride his leg like a deprived whore. Your soaked panties weren't much of a textural pleasure against your pussy. But you would take anything you can get.

You wanted to cum. That's it.

Your actions are interrupted by a sharp yank of your hair. You moan from the pain and the pleasure that comes along with it. Your blurry eyes focus on Spencer, looking at you with wide brown eyes. “Come up, darling,” he said, gently, “Let me take care of you now.”

You whimper, hating the way you were interrupted but listen. You find yourself on his lap again, your back pressed to his chest. The brown-haired boy kisses your nape. “You were so good to me,” he praises, “Thank you.”

You wanted to reply, but instead, you let out a soft noise. Your head resting on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good girl,” and you nearly cum from the praise. His eyes are curious as he sees your reaction. The man is memorizing your reactions so he can play your body like a fiddle in the future.

You were giving him all the answers.

Good girl indeed.

He unbuttons the blouse you were wearing. It reveals your bra, and your nipples straining against the silk material. Spencer pulls the bra up, freeing your breasts. Spencer hums in satisfaction as he uses both of his hands to knead the soft flesh. You moan as he pinches your nipples, he plays with your breasts effectively.

You were so wet, you could feel your juices had coated your thighs. “Spencer,” you whine, “Do something please.”

He stills, “You want more?” He breathes down your neck, and you shiver as you feel the exhale of air on your skin.

“Yes,” you beg.

“What do you want?” He asked, his hand sprawled over your tummy. He pressed his hand softly, his fingers tapping on your skin in the similar way he tapped the wood at the beginning of the date.

“Anything,” you gasp, “anything you give me, Spence.”

He chuckled, and it was a bit mean to your ears. “And to think you didn't like me. How wrong you have proven me, darling. One of the few to ever do so,” he whispered, his tongue peeking out to lick the shell of your ear. You moan as you feel the wet muscle on your skin.

His hand travels further down your body. His finger snapped the button of your jeans open. He slides down your jeans alongside your panties down to your knees. Exposing your glistening pussy to the cold air. You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes closing as you melt into his touch.

He was looking at your pretty cunt, his fingers pushing your pussy lips aside to see your cute clit and your slit. “Beautiful,” he whispered. And he watched your cunt clench around nothing. He pressed his palm onto your slick sex, he began to slowly soak his palm onto your arousal. The pressure of his hand is delicious.

But you needed to be ravished.

He pulled his hand away before he brought it back to your pussy in the form of a slap. You jolt in his hold as he slaps your pussy, once, twice. The wet sound ringing in your ears as you nearly cum from this.

“You're really wet,” he notes, his fingers swiping up and down your folds. His digits were glistening with your arousal. You don't say anything, feeling your body burning with lust.

His thumb finds your clit, he plays with the bud. Flickering it with his fingers, even going as far as pinching it. He makes the poor bud all swollen and sensitive, you let him do all that, getting closer to your high from the simple yet mind-blowing touches.

“Spencer,” you moan, as you feel his fingers playing around your slit. Teasing you with the hint of going in but never venturing inside of your walls. “Come on,” you whine.

He tuts you, his fingers finding your clit to pinch the bud rather harshly making you see stars. “Don't be impatient,” he said.

His finger finds your entrance again, this time he pushes his middle finger in. The slide is extremely easy and wet. You moan as you let yourself be filled. The single finger pressed deep inside of you, and he twisted the finger making you see white.

“Warm,” he mumbles, “Tight too…” He pressed his ring finger in, and soon he was knuckles deep inside of your pussy. “You can take it,” he whispered, as his other arm was wrapped around your stomach keeping you caged.

“Yes,” you agreed with a loud whine, “I can!”

He begins to slowly fuck his fingers into you. The squelching sounds made because of how slick your pussy was spurring him on. “So wet for me,” he groaned near your ear, as his fingers found your spongy spot.

You gasp he expertly curls his fingers to the spot, his fingers rubbing the soft, yet hard sensitive muscle. You begin to squirm, feeling entirely overwhelmed. His arm tightened around you. His fingers begin to thrust inside you, faster and faster by each second.

You cry out his name. He doesn't stop. He won't stop. “Please, please, please!” You beg, but you don't tell him to stop so he continues. His lips were pressed to your neck, his tongue licking your pulse. “Good girl,” he groaned, as his fingers got soaked in your juices. Your slick walls clenched around his digits like a glove as you feel closer and closer to the edge.

He pushed a third finger in without warning. And it burns, but it burns so good that your eyes roll back. The coil that had gathered in your stomach snaps, and you feel yourself relax as your mind lets go. You don't even realize you're squirting, your cunt spasming around Spencer's fingers.

It feels so, so good.

You feel your eyes getting droopy, you feel yourself completely content and your mind breaking away from reality. You think you hear Spencer softly calling your name out. And you swear you whispered a coherent response.

You feel a pair of lips kissing your forehead.

“Don't worry, I'll take care of you.”

Suffice it to say, that wasn't the only date you and Spencer went on.

[bougiebutchbinch]

wanna write a sad, nasty, but also kinda hopeful thing where logan hooks up with wade in a casual-sort-of-way, post-honda-odyssey and deadpool 3, etc.

only. wade is so pathetic and grateful to be touched and fucked and treated like he's desirable.

he obviously falls WAY too far and way too fast. he's very desperate and needy in an 'I thought nobody would ever want me except my last girlfriend who literally died in my arms - then I rescued her only for us to break up, so I just assumed I would be forever alone again' sort of way

maybe... wade starts neglecting his other friends and isolating himself from them?

not because logan's forcing him to, obviously - but because wade is just so fucking broken at the thought of losing people he loves, again, that he's scared to let himself love them fully? so he focuses on Logan (Logan, who can't die!! who can be with wade forever!). Keeping him happy. Sucking him off real sweet, or spreading his own legs and rolling over whenever Loagie's horny. Hiding his face in the pillows so Logan doesn't have to look. Trying so hard to convince him to stay....

and Logan, who just wanted someone to stick his dick in, but genuinely finds wade annoying and not especially attractive outside of when they're stabbing each other... is just a little uncomfortable

but he needs a place to stay, and it's Wade's house. Plus, Wade feels good on his dick. The mouthy bastard is so desperate for affection, and he's eager to do pretty much anything Logan wants, including letting Logan spend his days drinking on the couch and watching shit tv. If Wade pisses Logan off too much, Logan can just stab him and treat him like a punching bag. Wade always heals right up again after - and vice versa. So - hey, what's the harm?

(OF COURSE he is falling more and more for Wade every day... starting to see the very real beauty in him...... but is in desperate denial of his own feelings. And OF COURSE Wade graduallyyyyyy starts being less unhealthily codependent - mostly because his friends refuse to let him put up the Depressed Immortal Afraid Of Loss walls.)

Eventually, they figure things out. But for a while, they're both having enthusiastic, consensual, and very, very miserable sex - though neither of them can explain why they're not happy...

These two are SO RIPE for angsty, fucked-up nastiness and cutesy adorable fluff. I need a sprinkling of the former with the latter, please!

[brighteuphony]

I LOVE your Sakura AU, thank you so much for making it 🥹

Even though her ending is supposed to be “good”, I always thought that canon didn’t do her justice and threw any character development she had out of the window so she can be with Sasuke

I SO wanted her to finally move on and just let go

And I don’t have anything against Sasusaku

But I think it’d be much more beautiful if Sakura long let go of her feelings by the time Sasuke came to his senses and they developed their relationship TOGETHER from the START

And, once again, your work is AMAZING and I can’t wait for next pieces ❤️

Btw, can I ask a question?) Will we see Naruto’s and Sasuke’s reaction to her condition (maybe flashback to before she left the village?), if not, can you please tell me a bit about it? I can’t imagine them to ignore her after the incident, especially considering that they are at fault as usual

Thank you so much for the kind words! I've also never been a fan of how Sakura ended up. I have no beef with SasuSaku, but my biggest issue was that we never saw Sasuke try to make up/connect with Sakura in the same way we saw him do with Naruto, so their romance in Boruto just felt so...abrupt?

As for what happens to Sakura and her friends....

Sasuke was essentially put on probation/jailed, but broke out and defected to Otogakure as canon. This devastates Sakura, as she's both in deep denial about his contribution to her injuries and also the fact that she basically threw herself in there for nothing. Kakashi shuts down completely. It's a nightmare replay of his own past, including the female team-mate being horrifically injured by the chidori. The guilt of everything is eating him alive so he basically withdraws into himself and uses her demotion to civilian status as a way to trick himself into thinking that if he just 'rips off the bandaid' and cut ties, she'll be able to move on more easily.

Naruto is the only person who is really able/willing to face justice. After the incident, he was basically also put on probation/awaiting trial but busted himself out to join Jiraya.

So for context, Sakura got clapped hard by the Rasengan/Chidori combo (hearing gone, nerve damage, eyes shot etc) and basically had to be put in a coma to try and stop the damage from getting worse, but unfortunately none of the medics in Konoha had the ability to reverse anything but the most superficial damage. So Naruto joined Jiraya in an attempt to find and bring the only person in the world who could give Sakura a sliver of hope.

I felt like this worked well with canon and the desperation to get Tsunade to be hokage and Naruto basically begged her on his hands and knees to help Sakura. Tsunade made it there in the nick of time managed to save everything but her eyes.

But Sakura's life has fallen apart, her career is over, her parents dead from Konoha Crush and her eyes gone...and Naruto is the most convenient and available person to take out all her rage on, so...while he deserves a lot of that rage..she is essentially punching down on who she perceives to be the cause of all her problems.

Lee is in the same boat as her, but while he tries very hard to be there for her, Sakura can't stand to be with him right now, as it just makes the reality of life hit that much worse- especially when she finds out there's a surgery that might give him a better chance than she'll ever have.

And Ino visits often at first, but then it's awkward...and painful as the weeks go by. They have lunch and gossip but at some point, there's not much a shinobi and civilian have in common, especially after the shortage of manpower post Konoha-crush has Ino entrenched in the shinobi life more than ever before.

I hope this answered some stuff! Thank you so much for the questions and the interest! I love Sakura and I just wanna give her the development and power she deserves!!

[shuenkio]

𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝘿𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙆 /🍷 [REQUEST]

Paring: Down!bad!jay x male!reader

Cw: needy sex, cum filled, drunk sex, rough, friends to lover sex, obsession etc.

Genre: SMUT 18+

Summary: He has been waiting for this moment with you on this heat bed.

Read at your own risk.

Nonchalant y/n ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ

Jay was a musician whose passion lay in guitars. He loved collecting various types of guitars that caught his eye, disregarding the cost entirely. When he purchased a new guitar, he didn't bother looking at the price tag.

As a dedicated cashier at the bustling instrument store, you frequently encounter Jay during his daily visits. His ardent love for guitars keeps him returning to your establishment time and again. However, it's not merely his passion for music that brings him back - there's an underlying bond between both of you that compels him to visit regularly.

Your initial meeting took place when Jay struggled to choose a guitar. You assisted him, making eye contact and smiling encouragingly. That moment sparked something between them - an immediate attraction neither of us anticipated. Your friendship grew stronger, leading to the exchange of phone numbers and weekend plans. They enjoyed each other's company both inside and outside the store, fostering a deeper bond.

As his love for you swelled, it became increasingly difficult to contain. His attachment to you grew stronger with each passing day, especially whenever you interacted with other men. Seeing them close to you sent waves of jealousy coursing through him. Afraid of losing you he decided to hold back his feelings, hoping for the perfect chance to reveal his true feeling.

Weekend approaching, you and Jay went to hang out at the Bar today, which is different from before.

While Jay stepped away to use the restroom, you found myself seated at the counter, feeling slightly vulnerable. Suddenly, a seemingly inebriated man sidled up next to you, attempting small talk. His advances were clear, and despite your attempts to maintain distance, he leaned in closely. His hands blocked your path as he tried to pull you towards him for a kiss. Panicking, I struggled to push him away, but his unsteady state rendered him almost jelly-like, threatening to collapse onto me.

Right when I was struggling against the aggressive man, Jay emerged from the restroom. Without hesitate, he throw a punch the man, who fell to the ground groaning before finally fainting. Relieved but still shaken, Jay checked on you touching your shoulders gently. When you assured him you're fine, Jay chose to end our night early. After settling the bill, he walked you to his car. Before entering, you hurriedly drank what remained of your beverage and let Jay guide you inside.

During our drive back, you suddenly feels a surge wave of heat. Even though the car's AC was running, it didn't seem to affect you. You thought maybe the drink was upsetting your stomach. But as he pulled up to your place, the heat kept rising, making you sweat uncontrollable all over. Seeing your struggle, Jay's brows furrowed with concern as he guided you inside your apartment. His worry added to your own confusion about this sudden and intense bout of heat.

Once inside your bedroom, Jay carefully removed your shoes and socks. His face mirrored yours - puzzled by this sudden, inexplicable heat coursing through your veins. He sat beside you on the bed, contemplating the situation. Suddenly, it dawned on him – maybe someone had slipped something into your drink.

"I'm s—oo i feel Too hot, Jay!" You gasped, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

"I feel so... H-hot i just want to-"

Your consciousness bye bye from my physical self, taking complete control as you struggled against the boil heat. Ignoring modesty, you frantically stripped off your clothes until only your boxers remained. As you went to discard them too, Jay's hand cut in, stopping you in mid-action. His touch was both comforting and alarming in this surreal scenario.

"You sure you wanna do this- M/n?" He asked, patiently waiting for your response.

"I want to .... Feel nghh You" Jay's ear twitching, hearing your magic words feel like he just won a lottery. Without misunderstood He want to make sure he get your consent of doing this so he asked you one more time.

"Say it again m/n, do you want me to help you?"

"I want you to feel me JAY, I need you to take this hotness away~ mm" Your hand roaming twirling around your own body, the medicine started to act up again, but now it's even worse.

His eyes turned dark, filled with a hunger that was both thrilling and disturbing. he licking on his dry lip slightly, eager with a desire craving.

"I've been waiting for this m/n, you'll never get it" his belt was flying across the room. Unbutton his top, while he's stripped down his fabric in a fleet motion. Exposed his stretch-long balls, with his length bouncing, hit on his abdomen, twitching non stop.

He waste no time, before pull your boxer down reveal your hard dick, affected by the medicine in your drink back in the bar.

"Y~oUr so Big JaY put It in mE!i waNt to feel it" Your chest heaving, begging for his meat inside you, you're so bold which turn him on even more.

No further do, Jay push his cock inside your tight hole without any warning. Both feeling mix with pain and pleasure as Jay buried his length inside you. Once he's fully all in, Jay began to roll his hip against you, as his thighs pressed against you in every slam thrusting, making wet noises echo loudly in your bedroom. His grinding let your gasp escape your mouth, with Your vocalisation spurred him on, driving him to fuck harder.

Jay's thrust grow harder in every powerful slam, he lowered himself down to capture your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, swirling his tongue all over your inside. You return back his gesture, lost in the world of desire, message each other tongue together, taste the sticky saliva.

"Mmm oh-Ah argg your fucking shit is just perfectly fit my cock, M/N "

Jay roll his eyes to the back of his brain, melt under your tight entrance clenching his cock so well, each hip rolling one pushing both of you closer to the edge.

Dipping your nails on the skin of his back, leaving a fade red scratches on him, as the sensation continue drive you fucking good.

The bed creaked under their writhing bodies as, in unison. He tugging on your earlobes with his teeth before lift you up, Take both of your legs, hooking around his waist, carry on with the pace in a max speed. Your vision fading to black, is this how it feel like when they said you'll be see the stars in this heat bed?

Fire pooling low in Jay's abdomen, matching the orgasms that built inside your epididymis, where your cums store.

"S—SHIT it's coming I'm gonna filling you with my child M/N"

With a roar both of you reach the climax, shooting your semen on your own skin, before Jay blew his load inside your oral, filling you full with his hot seed. Your body shivered and trembled, collapsing on his chest, exhausted from the lustful encounter, not to mention that you're a virgin but not anymore.

Jay take a moment to catch his breath. As he settle you down back on the bed gently and laying down beside you, then he's grabbing you by your waist moving you closer to him skin-to-skin, still exposed, Hugging you tight in his warm embrace.

"This is the best day of my life M/N, there's will be a change between us tomorrow, i love you" He then pressed a kiss on your forehead. Closing his eyes, dozing off to the wonderland with you.

The flame inside your body's faded after an unforgettable night with him.

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ lack of perfect words, my apologies ~

🗣️ crd to all over pics&dividers .

[mookiesspace]

“ 𝑆𝑂 𝐵𝐴𝐵𝑌, 𝐿𝐸𝑇 𝑀𝐸 𝐶𝐴𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝑂 𝑌𝑂𝑈 ”

Ony x Black fem reader , 18+ MDNI , angst , implied cheating , strong language , etc

There you were sitting on your king-sized bed alone watching criminal minds at 2am, once again. it's been exactly 1 month since your harsh breakup with your ex-boyfriend Onyankopon. ever since then, you've hit rock bottom completely. you really thought he was the one, different from the other low life niggas you used to mess around with, that's until he showed you that it was all just a made up fairytale you so eagerly believed in nothing but lies and heartbreak. how could 2 of the best years of your life turn out to be the worst so drastically.. this so called love shit just wasn't for you. you wanted nothing more than to weep away into your big ass bed doing everything in your power to forget about him. well.. that was untill you got a knock on your apartment door..

"Hey mama.." you recognized that smooth honey like voice anywhere.. but was it really him? There infront of you stood a handsome 6'2, dark skinned figure. Onyankopon. Why was he here? does he not remember what he did to you, to us?? after all this time why would he show up now. Thoughts filling your pretty little head with deep regret and anger as you stand still infront of the tall man. "Hell no." you hissed while attempting to slamming the door infront of you before feeling a strong push of the door opening it wider than before. "Listen mama, I jus' wanna talk. please, y/n I mis-" "Cut the shit ony. I'm done with you, now get the fuck back before I call my brother on yo goofy ass." Is he fucking serious right now you thought. He couldn't be, he just couldn't. Before you could push him out and close the door he steps forward once more. "y/n I'm serious. jus' gimme 20 minutes with you. please mama, then I'll be gone." he said pushing the door closed behind him, locking it in motion. "Ony-" "Please mama, 20 minutes..." just a minute ago all you wanted to do was punch him in his stupid ass face and cry till you forgot all about him. now he's standing right infront of you looking sexier than ever, his perfect glossed two toned lips and dark brown eyes making you fall for him all over again. all you could do was stare at the tall dark skined man before you. "20 minutes Onyankopon. then I want you out my house, you understand me?" slowly seeing his cocky smile unfold revealing his blinged out gold grillz he nodded. "Yes ma'am." both knowing this'll be the longest 20 minutes of your life..

sneak peak of sumthin I'm trying finish cus I love cheater ony 😩🙏🏾

[curiositydooropened]

Halloween • A Ranged Special

A woman dies of mysterious circumstances and you and your partner are called to a tiny Midwest town on Halloween.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 3759

Warnings: This is a special based on this fic.*This blurb contains canon typical violence, including violence toward both main characters, mentions of suicide, all characters in peril, jump scares, zombies, etc. Please read at your own discretion.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Moodboard • Episode 00: Prologue

A paper Dracula hung in the doorway, spinning on fishing line that was paper clipped into ceiling tiles. Crepe streamers dangled from its cape. 

A friendly little bell chimed your entrance, and although you’d managed to duck beneath the streamers, Steve walked directly into it like a moonlit spider’s web, and with a grunt, he batted it from the ceiling and into the ficus pot nearby.

“Steve,” you scolded, trying to muffle your laughter between your molars at the look of disdain etched in his brow.

“I hate Halloween,” he punched the vampire’s face into the soil for good measure before following you through the vestibule and to the open lobby of the little 24-hour diner. 

Cakes and pies with glistening tops rotated in a spinner to the left of the till. Bats and ghosts were hung from a coat rack and more ceiling tiles.

You waited near a hostess stand for a young woman to arrive, watching with baited breath as she gave your partner the ole up-down and lash-bat before ushering you off to your table.

He ordered two coffees and handed you an oversized vinyl menu, flicking a bat-shaped sequin from the tabletop.

“You’re such a Scrooge.” You chided, peering over stock-images of pancake stacks and sausage links.

“That’s Christmas and bah-humbug,” he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

You glanced at him over your menu, hair perfectly coifed, bruise from last week’s scuffle yellowing at his jaw. “You not eating?”

He shrugged and glanced around the room.

You followed his gaze to a couple of truck drivers hunched over cups of coffee. Three old men shared a table in the back corner, laughing heartily with food in their beards. A mother was cutting up her pancakes for a little girl in face paint and cat ears. Your shoulders relaxed when Steve’s did. Safe.

The waitress returned with two steaming cups of coffee, staring directly into Steve’s eyes as she took your order, dark curls flowing from a hair tie at the back of her neck. “Are you really a secret agent, or is this a costume?”

Steve leaned forward in his chair, reaching into the inner pocket of his trench coat. “Wanna see my badge?” 

You slid the menu between their line of sight, and Steve cocked a brow your direction, the slightest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“The sheriff is supposed to be here any minute,” you informed him when she walked away, peeling the lid from a creamer container to stir into your cup. Anything to distract from the heat in your face and neck.

“Henderson says hi, by the way,” Steve said, coffee mug in both hands, pink lips bowing to blow the steam from the surface.

“Huh?” You began to shuffle off your trench coat.

“Dustin Henderson, the friend of mine you met a few months ago. I was with him when Owens called about this case. He wanted me to tell you hi.” Steve explained, taking soft sips of his coffee.

You smiled, remembering the young man with the curly hair and delightful penchant for spy-craft. “Tell him ‘hi’ back.”

“Boo!” A man appeared from around the corner, nearly startled the coffee from Steve’s mouth. You recognized the Sheriff’s uniform, but did find yourself a little unnerved by the hyper-realistic zombie makeup and gashes the man had tacky glued to his face. “Or should I say ‘braaaaains’?”

Steve’s hand went to the handle of his weapon under his jacket, and you pushed your chair back to stand and greet you brunch guest. 

“You must be Sheriff Bouchart,” you introduced yourself and Steve with an extended hand.

“Oh please, call me Tim,” he cackled and ushered you back to your seat while he pulled up a chair from a nearby table and sat in it the wrong-way-around. “I just love Halloween. Don’t you just love Halloween?”

You bit back a smile as you watched Steve squirm in his seat and hummed your agreement. You’d helped Sadie decorate their front porch the night before, fresh carved jack-o-lanterns and corn stalks. Jeff was going to dress as a scarecrow and sit limply on a bench with a bowl of candy in his lap, waiting to scare passersby. You ached a little at the thought.

“So, what can I do you for, Agents?”

You looked from the Sheriff to Steve and back. “We’re here about the… murder.”

“Murder?” The Sheriff frowned.

You nodded and pulled a small notebook from your jacket pocket. “Cheryl Leahy?”

Tim shook his head, the bright smile falling from his bloodied face. “Oh that, tragic thing, really, but coroner agrees it was a suicide.”

“She made an emergency phone call about a monster with rows and rows of teeth,” Steve said, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“She did,” Tim nodded.

“And you found her with several puncture wounds the size of small bite marks?” You tried to confirm.

Tim nodded. “So we thought, but upon further selection, we noticed it was glass. Poor woman threw herself out the front window of her home.”

Steve shot you a perturbed look, fingernails tapping the ceramic mug in front of him.

“Any sign of a break-in? Maybe she could have been pushed?” You asked.

“Nope. Doors were unlocked, but this is the Midwest, no one locks their doors. They weren’t any signs of a struggle either, other than the broken window,” Tim clarified, thanking the waitress with a hand on her arm as she dropped off another cup of coffee and your pancake stack. Then he reached across the table to pull out four sugar packets and unload them into his drink.

Steve looked like he might be sick.

“Listen, kids,” Tim picked up the spoon from your napkin and began to stir his drink. “Cheryl Leahy, God rest her soul, was a troubled woman. She’d gone a bit off the deep end in the last couple of months, and this wasn’t exactly a surprise.”

“What do you mean?” Steve pulled his coffee from the table, as though the sweetener might jump into his own cup. 

“I mean, she left her husband, quit her job, became a hermit.”

“Does anyone know why?” You asked, taking a bite of delicious, buttery pancake.

Tim shrugged, leaned in to offer the next bit of information just above a whisper. “Rumor has it she was seeing a woman.”

“Have you looked into this woman?” Steve asked.

Tim shook his head. “We couldn’t find any proof of an affair or even of another woman. You know how the rumor mills work in these small towns. I think the ladies at the credit union just needed something to talk about at the water cooler.” He turned to offer you a wink.

You faked a smile.

Steve’s fist clenched on the tabletop. “Well, we’re going to need access to the crime scene.”

Tim sipped his coffee and smacked his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “No can do, buddy. Crime scene’s cleared. New window’s being installed today. Like I said, it’s been ruled as a suicide. Nothing to see there.”

“We understand,” you said, mouthful of sticky sweet pancake to cut Steve off before he said anything rash. You swallowed. “Unfortunately, we have to report something to our boss. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure, sure,” Tim nodded. “You’re more than welcome to canvas her neighbors. See if maybe they saw something? Other than the poor lady’s body in her driveway.”

—

Mist crawled from the lake’s surface and swirled at your feet. Lamplight cast you both in long silhouettes as you walked, heads disappearing into the fog. 

You stifled a yawn with your hand. 

“Knew I should’ve stopped you from eating those pancakes,” Steve tutted, kicking dead leaves from the toes of his shoes.

You’d spent the day canvasing. You left Steve at the stoop and walked door-to-door after the first homeowner nearly got decked in the face for wearing a Freddy Krueger mask and holding a candy bucket. Nobody knew anything about Cheryl Leahy, nor had they seen or heard anything unusual the night of her death.

“Why did Owens send us here?” You groaned, pawing at tired eyes. Your shoulders and feet felt heavy, each step a slog. 

A blood-curdling scream was better than a cup of coffee.

Steve took off first, the clack of his soles against pavement before he was up a lawn, reaching into his trench coat. You were hot on his tail, heart pumping.

Your partner stopped short, and you nearly barreled into his broad back until you peered around him to see a bunch of kids cackling, pretending to stab one another with a plastic knife. They were dressed as various cartoon characters and carried empty pillow cases and pumpkin-shaped-buckets.

With a snort, you grabbed Steve’s shoulder and led him back down the hill and to the paved path.

“I hate Halloween,” he repeated his sentiment from earlier through gritted teeth.

“Why?” You smiled, kicking at the fog as you stepped.

“Because,” Steve said, that frown burrowing itself between his brows, “there are real monsters in this world they should be afraid of.”

“Have you ever had fun?” You asked behind a yawn, laughing when his eyes snapped to yours. “Even once in your life?”

“I have fun,” he argued.

“Shooting monsters in the face doesn’t count,” you countered.

“Believe me, that is not fun,” he sighed.

You tried not to let the sadness sink in, choosing instead to barrel forward, back around the cul-de-sac where you’d parked your rental. “Alright then, what do you and Dustin do when you hang out?”

“That isn’t fun either,” he rolled his eyes.

“Okay, your… other friends then,” you ventured, hating the way your stomach sank at the thought of him having other company. You thought of Michelle from that party months ago, and wondered if he’d ever reached out.

Sadie hadn’t mentioned anything. She just kept pestering you about whether or not you’d tied him down: figuratively and literally.

Steve’s face fell in a way you hadn’t anticipated but recognized as a shut down of your line of questioning. He shook his head and looked far up the path into the mist. Robin.

You swallowed. You knew better than to push further, but you ached to slip your hand into his and tell him it was okay, that he was safe with you.

You felt his elbow bump into yours. “We should get you something to eat.”

You smiled up at him. “Don’t think I didn’t hear your stomach two houses ago, Harrington.”

You swatted at him to push him away, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in tighter, his trench coat and chest all-encompassing as a stampede of children skipped past you both, chanting.

“Trick-or-Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!”

His chest radiated warmth, and when you looked up, his throat and cheeks were pinched pink. You watched his mouth as his chest rose and fall beneath your palm, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a swallow.

You felt his stomach growl before you heard it, and you bit back a smile as you patted his middle. “Let’s get you something good to eat.”

—

The same Dracula was restrung in the doorway, and the hostess’s sign had been flipped to have you seat yourself at the same table as that morning. Vinyl menus now displayed mashed potatoes and chicken club sandwiches. A car drove by, casting Steve in the headlights for a moment across the table, engrossed in his dinner selections.

You tried not to think of Sadie’s pesterings, or wonder what Steve would look like all face-painted up like a scarecrow, hair stuffed into a straw hat. 

The same waitress from earlier approached with a tongue pressed to her top row of teeth. “You’re back.”

Steve flashed you a daring smile and leaned back in his seat. “You didn’t get Halloween off?”

“Jehovah’s Witness,” she explained, tapping her pen cap to the pad in her hand. “I’m off at midnight, though.”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger,” you cleared your throat, folding your menu over Steve’s. “Fries and a coke.”

“That sounds great. I’ll have the same,” Steve flashed her a thousand-watt smile, handing over the menus. 

You hated the green monster that clawed at your insides.

“So what brings you to town, G-man?” The woman asked, idling with a nylon-covered knee a little too close to Steve’s.

“Did you ever spend anytime with Cheryl Leahy? Serve her here, maybe?” You asked, leaning across the table to catch her gaze.

Recognition flashed across the woman’s face, and she pursed her lips. “You mean the crazy lesbian lady from the credit union? Thought she killed herself.”

“She did,” Steve shot you a look. “Her family just wanted us to tick all the boxes.”

“Right,” the girl nodded slowly, glancing between the two of you before the smile slid back onto her lips. She tapped her pen cap twice to Steve’s knee and promised to be right back.

“They wouldn’t send us on a false lead, would they?” You asked when the waitress’s hips swung out of earshot.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he glanced around the empty diner before leaning into you. “Say that again.”

You swallowed, the ominous feeling you felt around house six settling back between your shoulders. “Well, it did sound like our thing, but it’s looking like maybe it’s not our thing, and I’m just wondering if this is,” you lowered your voice, “some sort of distraction.”

“Distraction from what?”

You shrugged, played with the sticky wrapper holding your silverware inside your napkin. “Les Joplin, George Humbolt, the Garcias.”

When you looked up, Steve’s face was inches from yours, eyes carefully watching every change in your expression. You hoped you could convey your worry, that you’d been thinking about this for the last few months, through every small town and every patch of rotting Earth.

“Two cokes,” your waitress interrupted, placing sticky sweet soda between you. The bubbles fizzed against their straw.

You thanked her and ignored the ripple of butterflies at the smile Steve gave her.

“The last three people we saved are still alive,” he said through his teeth, glancing back up at the waitress as she sauntered away.

You swallowed and nodded, stirring your drink before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled at your nostrils and it went down ice-cold.

“Think they’re onto us being onto them?”

You shrugged. “Could be.”

“Do you think I put Henderson in danger?”

You watched the panic fill his eyes. “Steve.”

The bell chimed and a gust of wind rolled in, sweeping leaves into the lobby. Pies and cakes continued to spin in your periphery.

Your shoulders felt heavy with burden, with the weight of the world, and your eyelids too. You reached a hand across to Steve, and he spoke your name like sound waves through a soupy atmosphere. 

“Who sent you?” The waitress appeared, large bottle in her hand, although even she was sideways, off-kilter. “Was it Brenner?”

You fell from your seat, heavier than gravity would allow, and you watched as the bats and Draculas began to spin, crepe paper circles blurring your vision until everything went black.

—

Your brain felt fuzzy inside your skull, your mouth was bone dry, and the light was too bright behind your eyelids. You scrambled to remember your whereabouts, squinting against the harsh glow, and as you slipped back into consciousness, you became painfully aware of the rope around your wrists and ankles.

You strained against them and pulled yourself from laying to seated to find yourself in the auditorium of an old theater. Paint peeled from decorative lighting around the expanse and down from this balcony to the lower level.

On the stage, a huge white projector screen showed the mist of a classic monster movie.

You called out for Steve, but your mouth had been tied too, cloth between your teeth in a gag.

You tugged on your restraints for just a moment of more panic before remembering your training. Deep breaths in and out. 

You observed your surroundings, looked for exits, on either side of the floor level, and then one across the mezzanine from where you sat. You laid back down to peer under the seats for any sign of your partner. 

A few chairs creaked near the exit, almost imperceptible, and you froze, closing your eyes, stilling your breathing like you might pass for being asleep. Then footsteps, the clack of soles against the steps.

You risked a peak to find Steve, who crouched across the aisle from you, finger to his lips.

You nodded and waited with bated breath until a familiar voice startled you. “Oh good. You’re awake. You think now you’re willing to talk?”

You stared at Steve, and he maintained his posture, reassuring you he had it covered if you just played along.

You looked back up at the waitress and nodded fervently.

The waitress barked a cold laugh and approached from the row behind Steve, uniform discarded for something less conspicuous. Her long curls had been released and now fell at her shoulders. “Or maybe I ought to play with you a little bit more.”

She snapped her fingers and Steve stood from his crouch.

You cursed under your breath. Of course she was enhanced.

Feeling the ground around you for a loose screw, you used your thumbnail to loosen it from its hold to use to begin to cut the ropes at your wrist.

Steve wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close, bending to press his lips against hers. She moaned, tangling her fingers in his thick hair.

You tried your damndest to focus on the screw until they began to move, slowly backing him to the balcony’s edge.

You cried out for him, but it was too late.

With one powerful shove, you watched your partner plummet to the auditorium floor. Scrambling to your knees to peer over the side, you saw his mangled remains, blood seeping down the incline toward the orchestra pit.

You screamed and ripped your wrists from their restraints.

Standing, you managed to swing your arms at her with the intention to push her over the side with him. Only, she wasn’t there, not really. You wafted through the air until you lost your balance, and you felt gravity cascading you up and over to meet your partner’s fate.

With a sharp tug, your arm was ripped from it’s socket.

“I’ve got you,” Steve said, gripping your wrist, teeth grit.

You glanced to the floor to find it empty, nothing but air beneath your dangling feet.

On the giant screen behind you, a monster’s silhouette was framed in shadow, tens of feet high.

“Give me your hand,” Steve yelled.

With a cry of agony, you swung your other hand to grasp his and allow him to hoist you upward.

Safely back on the mezzanine, Steve made to quickly untie your bonds, large hand replacing the gag on your cheek. “Are you alright?”

His voice was hoarse, blood caked the side of his temple.

You swallowed, nodded. “Are you?”

He shrugged and looked around for any sign of her. “I think she’s enhanced.”

“She can make you see things,” you confirmed.

“Great,” he sighed, hand brushing your hair from your cheek, warm and comforting. You knew she couldn’t manufacture this, not the care or the devotion. “Can you walk?”

“My legs are fine,” you stated, gritting your teeth through the sting in your shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ll put it back in the car. Stay close to me.” He grabbed your hand to assist you in standing, and didn’t release it as you made your way up the balcony aisle and through the exit doors.

—

Flashes illuminating the mist and trees surrounding the little theater. Blood that spilled from her wounds. She coughed and sputtered, face covered in shards of glass.

Tim Bouchart handed you the handcuffs from his belt, and you clipped them around her wrists to restrain her to the gurney, flesh and blood and bone.

“You sure you’re okay there, Agent?” Tim asked, face quite mundane without the zombie makeup.

“I’m fine,” you breathed through the ache. The emergency response team insisted on a hospital visit, but you’d rather not spend your Halloween night watching droves of other people in skeleton costumes puke up their dinner.

Steve finished giving the ambulance drivers their specific directions and shook Tim’s hand. “Sheriff, thank you for all your help. We’ll be in touch.”

“I’m sure you will,” Tim managed an exhausted smile before stumbling back into his cruiser. “Happy Halloween.”

You stifled a yawn behind your hand.

Steve scoffed beside you, cut on his head covered with a butterfly bandage.

You nodded. “I think I hate Halloween.”

—

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed,” Owens smiled, blue eyes sparkling. He clapped his hands together and held his office door open for you and Steve to exit.

In silence, you exited through his receptionist’s office and into the hallway, glancing both directions before making your way into the elevator. Steve whistled as he pressed the button for the lobby.

“Have any fun weekend plans?” He asked, ceasing his whistle.

You frowned back at him, small-talk so not his forte. “Going to Sadie’s to help with Thanksgiving plans,” you said. “You’re invited, by the way.”

He bristled at that, didn’t respond.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal a large group of people waiting. The two of you shuffled around them and to the revolving glass door.

Crisp autumn air hit your face, and you sighed, watching leaves tumble down the sidewalk.

“So listen,” Steve stopped you with a hand to your forearm. “Henderson’s coming over tonight to watch movies. He wanted me to invite you.”

You pushed down anything that kicked in your stomach, tilted your face to catch the sunlight just over his head. “Do you want me there?”

He pursed his lips to avoid the smirk toying at the corner of them. “Not really. I know it’ll just be the two of you talking over the whole thing.”

You hummed. “Is that what you like to do for fun? Watch movies?”

He eyed you for a moment longer, weighing whether or not to tell you the truth, before he nodded. 

This time it was you disguising your smirk. “What movies are you watching tonight?”

“Halloween,” he said. This time, his lips split into a knee-weakening grin.

---

[A/N: In my mind, this entire chapter is in B&W. Like my two favorite episodes of Supernatural and X-Files. I missed you guys. Happy Halloween! xoxo]

[sparklingcid3r]

the gang pre- the book. like when darry and soda were in high school and pony was in elementary school. just their life before their parents died and what plans they had before that happened

Ooh I’ve never even given it much thought, but this was actually so fun to think abt

For reference, Darry is a high school senior (18), Soda is a high school freshman (14), and Pony is in middle school (12)

- Darry is pretty much never home except for when he’s getting ready to go out. You can tell who he’s hanging with based on what he’s wearing, and Soda will clown on him so hard if he’s brushing his hair back and getting all dripped out

- The madras shirt Paul got him is Darry’s favorite, that shit goes hard at the function and they both know it

- Pony has always thought Soda was the hottest manliest babe magnet but at that point he thought Darry was just the coolest person in the world. He would brag about his brother being a senior in high school, having a scholarship to go play football in college, all the parties he goes to, etc

- Pony and Soda were always closer though. Darry ran with a different crowd, not only socially, but also the age difference. Darry would listen when Soda talked about his own friends, but he just didn’t really care about the freshman class

- Some nights when nothing was going on, Darry would drag Soda and Pony out of bed and throw them in their dad’s truck, tell them that if they snitched he’d beat their asses, and took them to empty lots to take turns spinning donuts with the windows down

- In school, Darry absolutely shoulder checked Soda into lockers before messing up his hair and telling him if anyone gave him shit, to come to him

- Soda never had any problems, he was Sodapop, but his brothers were always the one thing Darry didn’t play about, Soc status be damned

- Soda and Darry were two different kinds of popular in school. Soda was the class clown, never taking shit serious, but he was greaser popular. He didn’t eat lunch in the caf like Darry did

- A fic from one of my fav authors is abt Soda and Darry at a party and Soda gets into a fight, and Darry finishes it for him, and when they get home their Dad chews Darry out but Darry doesn’t throw Soda under the bus and yeah I agree 100%

- Soda was the first person to actually meet Johnny, because the crumpled up paper asking a girl for her digits landed on Johnny’s desk instead and he read it before Soda could get up and apologize. Johnny just turned around and stared at him

- Whenever the gang got together with some drinks and burgers or something, Soda’s helping Pony find out what kind of alcohol he likes and giving his recs and also telling him not to say shit to their parents

- Pony and Soda aren’t allowed to smoke around Darry, he doesn’t fw second-hand smoking because of football. If someone grabs a lighter and a cig he’s pulling up talking abt “If you light that I’m putting it out on your face”

- There was one night where Soda was out with Steve (already against their parents’ word) so Darry had to babysit Pony. Darry was pissed and Pony just felt bad. They didn’t even have a car to drive around in, so Darry taught Pony how to throw a punch

- “Omfg stop tucking ur thumb in unless u wanna break it” “like this?” “what the fuck are u doing w ur pinkie”

- A few days later Pony comes back from school with a fat lip and two-days detention, but he tells Darry a girl called him cool after, so. Score

That’s all I got right now, but this was def sm fun! I don’t know if they ever really talked about future plans, in my head they were all just kind of living in the moment. Tysm for the ask!! Curtis brothers u will always be famous🫶

[benjineedssleep]

stardew valley* headcanons because i'm sick and the brainrot is real <3

i'm trying to get into the fandom but i'm scared so please interact >_< ...also if these have been said before i'M SORRY--

*mostly ass trio with some adjacent stuff because i love them sm =(((

ass trio like to collect old tech and physical media. abby collects old games and consoles, sam collects cds/vinyl, sebastian collects cds and movies (mostly vhs but he'll also fw dvds).

we all know sebastian's a ginger but how about abby cutting and dyeing his hair every month??? *melts*

speaking of dyeing hair, sam has darker hair like his mom but she helps him bleach and tone it. he started doing it to look more like his dad but it kinda just stuck.

jodi always wanted a daughter and for a while resented having two sons. though, the older she gets (and the more the learns about sam specifically) the less she silently resents them. she just asks sam if he wants to do certain things with her (like go get mani-pedis at the beginning of summer) and sam is always like 'FUCK YEAH' (minus the fuck, jodi hates cursing) because he loves his mom, loves self care, and isn't ashamed of either of those things.

sebastian is also a mama's boy. a really big mama's boy. he tells robin anything and everything and she's usually the first person he goes to, abby being the second.

abby/seb wlw/mlm solidarity. i don't make the rules. they are also bonded like cats and should not be separated. live laugh love platonic intimacy and soulmates. i'm talking abby playing with seb's hair, forehead kisses, dancing with each other just cause, etc. etc. <3

sam is so very midwest/5th wave emo coded. not explicitly those genres but i'm definitely talking american football, origami angel, sunny day real estate, etc. he's also into some dad rock because of kent. listening to mid-late 90s/2000s bands while in the car with his dad is a very fond memory of his.

sebastian my artist king!!! he's a bit of a perfectionist but he's really good and sometimes abby and sam ask him why he chose to pursue coding instead. he says it's because he doesn't wanna lose a fun hobby/form of self expression (and he's so real for that).

sebastian is entirely content with sitting in silence with people. he actually prefers it. come sit on his couch while he codes for hours on end and remind him to eat and drink and he'll love you forever. and if he's not coding, watch a movie or play a game that doesn't require insane co-op skills. anything that doesn't require him to talk too much or he'll probably end up spilling his guts by accident. will it make sense? no. but if he finds the words to describe how he's feeling, he's gonna say them.

on that note, sebastian is very bad at hiding his emotions and equally as bad at handling them. he's also the kind of guy that would let you come over just to rant, hand you some tissues if you cry, but wouldn't have much input.

sam, on the other hand, is very good at hiding his emotions and bottles things up for other people's sake. this comes from having to fill the role of his dad while he was away at war and step up as that father figure for vincent. he's very good at supporting you if you're upset but will probably fumble trying to find the proper words.

abby is like the middle ground, everything depending on the situation. though, she tends to be a bit hot headed; passive aggressive. if someone hurt you, she's already up wrapping her hands so she doesn't break them punching someone in the face.

speaking of abby being ready to throw hands, that girl is built, okay? she goes in the mines and swings that sword often enough to have some jacked ass arms and shoulders. she still likes being a pretty girl tho, don't get it twisted. she's just a jacked pretty girl >:3

abby and sam definitely bond quicker than sam and sebastian. they have a lot more things in common on the surface. their music tastes overlap a bit more, they're both the kind to cut up their clothes imperfectly for the vibes, and are equally as wild/bubbly.

abby!!! likes!!! to!!! rollerblade!!! inlines!!!! specifically!!! her and sam stay busting their ass in the town square.

sam's got a sleeper build for real. he's generally a bigger guy, in terms of height and such, but you wouldn't know he's got strength unless you saw him do something. working out is another thing he did casually to be like his dad but also, vincent was very needy when he was a toddler and he still likes to be carried around if jodi'll let sam do it.

jodi is a very soft, "hidden" supporter. she's the kind of mom that would have a pride pin/ribbon on her bag year round and randomly buy sam new music/skating equipment despite complaining about the noise/injuries.

robin is a very loud, "in your face" supporter. she also doesn't sugar coat a damn thing despite trying to look at things in a more optimistic light. she can and will embarrass you in front of your friends.

caroline is a reluctant, "if you must" supporter. she hates most of what abby chooses to do and takes a long time to warm up, but eventually comes around. it's usually the result of jodi and robin explaining to her that things are never that serious (like abby dyeing her hair and cutting her clothes up). sometimes she just needs to be reminded she too was young once.

vincent loves swearing and torments both jodi and penny with all the new ways he tries to curse without actually saying "bad words". see: "what the chicken butt!!!" (he definitely doesn't get it, but he tries to pretend he does.)

robin panic cooks/bakes at any inconvenience or event. you're hurt? sick? it's your birthday? you got a promotion? she's in the kitchen at the crack of dawn tearing the place apart to make something perfect. did i also mention she's a mess and will try to multitask, failing miserably? (there have been multiple times she's done the same step of a recipe twice because she forgot and it almost always ends up leading to massive batches of food she has to give away.)

okay i think that's enough... i can go on for literally ever y'all. i have so much brain rot. lmk if you want more cause i've got a whole 87k word fic to pull from (and also a bunch of other shit that floats around in my brain...)

p.s. i haven't posted the fic anywhere and don't plan on doing so until it's done. but i can share screenies... perhaps... hmnfjfjhgj

[the-moon-files]

Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (ur here!) / Part 3

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Hyrule, Time, Fierce Deity, Twilight, Warriors

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

☆

Hyrule (The Legend of Zelda - OG game, Zelda II: Adventures of Link):

Lost easily, obviously, you know this

What you didnt know was that its very easy to get lost with him

Bc he's so excited/curious for new sights he doesnt give any fucks abt where he is, so it devolves into that "wait, I thought YOU were leading us there?? Then where tf are we??!!" very quickly

Does feel bad he stressed u out smtimes but he somehow manages to get into such wild shit that Hyrule's kinda preoccupied being confused/amazed/finding his way out, or any combo of these situations (once again, usually with you unfortunately)

Is the luckiest when it comes to getting lost or anything to do with "natural" things

Like he heard u rlly like this one fruit? Accidentally gets lost all day and panics all the Links + You until he shows up at midnight with a shirtful of them

("I found a few fruit trees/plants in the woods while wandering! I tried to grab a few for you and before I knew it, it was dark, sorry...")

Likes learning little skills from other people, like learning how to do makeup from Legend, or how to spot collections of rupees the Minish have left somewhere from Four, or how walk on any terrain from Wind (good at walking on a ship, on land, climbing etc)

More of a "sunset" hiker than a "sunrise" one

Likes to do your hair! Whether that be braiding, putting accessories (he handmade shhh) thruout it, or helping with hair maintenance, likes how strangely intimate but domestic it feels together with you (u return the favor ofc)

(All the other heroes are looking at you both like kicked puppies jfcccc🙄)

Time (Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask):

Gets anxious if he's late to things, likes being fashionably early (or ungodly, when u let him get away with it)

Has absolutely been that meme from Parks and Recreation where he's like "Alright. I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Who broke it?"

(Abt the coffee pot for the camp)

Knowing full and well-

"I broke it. It burnt my coffee for the 3rd morning in a row, so I punched it. I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with war paint on their faces and a moblin head on a stick. ...good. It was getting a little chummy around here."

MF LOVES GOSSIP (wouldn't admit this even at swordpoint)

Wars has absolutely been the person in the meme of:

Wars: "...why would you tell me this??"

Time: "Bc no one will ever believe you."

Wars: ...😦

Has a resting bitch face and knows it, actively cultivates it, scary dog privileges for you,

Type to take ur side in whatever situation ur in, even when Time has no idea whats going on, always, without question <3

The same height as First, (Twi's a close 2nd), and feels most secure when the 3 of you are at the front of the group, but First/Time are slightly in front of you

Like ur literally the person walking their 2 huge scary doobermans/mastiffs one leash in each hand basically 💀

(Once again, Link is deeply comforted by ur voice just over his shoulder/just hearing u even without seeing you)

Very subtly sarcastic, u dont even know he made a dig at you until 3-5 business days later

Likes ur sarcasm more than anyone else's in the group, or even his own lol

Fierce Deity (Majora's Mask):

Likes music, any music (amused at drunk karaoke)

Casually cradles ur arms or back whenever ur falling asleep/tripping/being clumsy near him

Very warm and smoothed calloused hands

Thinks abt what he's about to say so hard/long, that the conversation's moved on by like, 3 rounds/subject changes by the time he's actually ready to talk

Scolds ppl (in like a sentence) who neglect their needs, like sleeping/eating/hygiene

Finds peace in nature, if hes ever upset, u can bet he's already taking a walk by a stream

Likes teaching u/other Links little skills he has, its nice to feel appreciated/needed for something other than fighting or big moments

He falls in love with small moments, like the first time u made them all a dessert recipe from ur world, or repaired First's scarf (for the millioneth time) and bc everyone had gotten their clothes scratched up, everyone needed repairs so most Links were sewing smth lol

Enjoys watching ppl experience smth for the first time, or even himself exp smth for first time

Fierce smiled fully for the first time when you got into the mountain hot springs in Wild's Hyrule for the first time and were super excited

Also the type to hold ur hand while stepping in to make sure u dont fall, or just subtly boost a Link that was abt to fall from climbing smth

Like for being the tallest, he's surprisingly sneaky, the energy of the biggest cat in the house yet somehow also the quietest

Does that thing where someone takes ur hand and like massages ur fingers, palm, wrist and shakes them out kinda for you <3

Twilight (Twilight Princess):

Trips UP the stairs.

Cold start LMAO

ok ill be nice to him,, sike

Easy to bully?? U mean that kindly, he's just such a golden retriever sometimes u cant help urself (tho u make sure to reign it in and not take advantage of it so as not to genuninely hurt him)

Lol likes to "herd" his favorite people, like those dogs livestock farmers have u kno that they say end up herding their owners/their family lol

Like making subtle circles around the Chain, wrapping an arm around Hyrule and teasing him to quietly bring him back into the group before he gets lost,

Tugs on Time's armor to slow him down, mf may be in armor head to toe but he'll outpace all of u 💀

Likes to put his hand on ur lower back to guide u back into the group from whatever scenic thing u got distracted by

(so sue you, ur literally in The Legend of Zelda's Hyrule, surrounded by pretty blondes, why tf wouldnt you be distracted all the time??)

The only time he doesnt herd actively is in Ordon, just subconciously lol <3

Terrible sleep schedule, but sleeps like the dead when he does, has collapsed with a limb on top of you and u couldnt escape

Hard time waking up in the morning despite being country boy, who usually have to do chores first thing in morning on a farm

hates/envious of Wild (up at 5am even on days off?? Foul.)

Runs warm, but complains abt a slight breeze?

Would sleep with no covers if it werent for morning dew

Wishes cats liked him more (its the wolf smell)

Twi has the constant energy of a tall person carefully maneuvering around cluttered/low doorways while someone a head shorter runs by him and bounces off of him

U get onto/scold the Links and he's immediately the first to just sit on the ground, or put down whatever he's holding no matter what he's doing LMAO 😭😭

Keeps his eyes on u too the whole time lol

Warriors (Hyrule Warriors):

Cries over romance novels/dramas

A virgo in all stereotypes of the word tbh

Invented the red-string conspiracy theory board before the red-string conspiracy board existed in Hyrule

Also likes to take care of your hair! (What?? He and 'Rulie don't fight over ur hair, that'd be childish, he's not a foolish boy- Hyrule, hand over the brush.👹)

Remembers the little things abt u type of person, like ur favorite drink, ur favorite stories like tv shows/books even if theyre from ur world, ur favorite clothing pieces like shorts vs. pants, etc.

The only Link who can single handedly claim he could take your closet and dress you in something you'd actually wear.

Honestly once he got the hang of it, would get better at dressing you, than you

(Another domestic thing he adores, picking outfits for u/finding that perfect piece of clothing you've been needing lately)

Born to night-owl, forced to morning-bird 😔

Wars wakes up stiff sometimes bc soldier training is sleeping on ur back, hands to ur sides, laying straight in ur bed, so as to fit into bunks/bedrolls close together

It got better as he was promoted to Captain, so he could have his own quarters but its still a hard habit to shake

One of the few Links who works up the courage to genuinely pitfully ask if you'd mind massaging his shoulders again? He slept badly last night, please?? 🥺👉👈

(Ur so weak for pathetic hurting pretty blonde twinks lol)

The most lowkey abt taking care of Chain, but u make sure to take care of him as a gift back, and you've definitely caught him tearing up abt it 💖

☆

Debated writing smth else first but figured this was easy and short and i started it first so youll have to wait like one more post before more Masc Reader stuff guys 😔

Dw its coming, i havent abandoned u my homies out there 🫂

Let me know what u think in the comments of my slight characterizations here!

Im struggling to conceptualize their personalities so thats acc part of why i started to write smaller stuff like this first! :)

Peace out,

🌙

[aaazzie]

hi guys ur local (non-religious) angelkin here ! i saw this post about wanting more gear, and I’ve made some gear for myself, so i thought I’d make a little tutorial :)

here’s how to make wings that you can put on your ears!! it can be for any alterhuman/otherkin who wants them, or even just for cosplay or fun ^_^ do whatever you want forever

you’ll need:

- a sheet or two of thicker paper (like cardstock, or you can use thin cardboard)

- a few sheets of paper (cardstock or not) in colors of your choice for feathers, i use construction paper

- a little bit of wire or strong yarn/string

- a glue stick or some tape

- scissors or a pocket knife

- a pen, pencil, marker or etc

- a hole punch, pen, or anything sharp to poke holes with

step one!

[PT: step one! End PT]

take your thicker piece of paper/cardstock/thin cardboard and cut out two of this shape! if you have a printer, you’re free to print this and use it as a template— if not, it’s fairly simple to draw!

step two!

[PT: step two! End PT]

using your paper in colors of your choice, cut out or trace the shapes in the image below! from left to right, the first one is considered the biggest, the second is the medium, and the third is the smallest. these will be the feathers! if you want to have different colors for each layer, each size should have their own color. if you want it to be random, you can go wild!!

to cut these out, I fold over the paper a bunch of times, trace my shape on, and then cut it so that i have a bunch of them in one go! you can do whatever’s most comfortable, though, because that can hurt your wrist if you have bad scissors!

step three!

[PT: step three! End PT]

start gluing or taping!! here’s where you wanna follow this chart that i made, or the one that i found on Pinterest of different kind of bird wings! if you know the source for that one, please feel free to link it :)

i start with the biggest feathers first, then add the medium ones, making sure that they’re overlapping so there’s no empty space. finally, you can add the small ones!

step four; the final one!

[PT: step four; the final one! End PT]

using your hole punch, pen, or sharp object of your choosing, poke holes wide enough for your wire, string, or yarn to fit through! here’s what mine looks like!

measure your wire/string/yarn so that it’ll go around your ear, but you’ll still have some extra to tape down. it should be pretty snug! then, feed your wire/string/yarn through! you want the ends of it to be on the back of the wing, so you can tape them down, and the loop facing you!

you’re done!

[PT: you’re done! End PT]

you can loop whatever string you have around your ear, and adjust it so that it fits! I found that wire works the best for me, since it’s sturdy and i can twist it if it comes loose. if you have absolutely any questions, please RB this or comment with it, and I’ll do my best to help out! here’s what mine looked like done and on me :) you’re free to make these, and you don’t have to credit me, but i do ask that if somebody asks how you made them, you redirect them back to this post. if you’d like to make a video version if this, please ask me first! I’m more than open to it, i just want to know if you are making one :)

while you’re here, don’t forget your daily clicks!

[ilyxxnsm]

True Love 01

| is true love supposed to hurt like this?

warning: domestic violence, toxicity. don't judge. smut. reader's body type briefly mentioned. reader's ethnicity's not mentioned, but she's light skinned to white. mental health mentioned (medication, depression, anxiety, ADHD, etc). implied self harm (skin pinching, nail biting, scratching, hair pulling). of course physical abuse (hair pulling, slapping, pinching, punching, he breaks bones be fr, hickeys and bite marks??). drug dealer yoongi. everything against reader. reader's 17, yoongi's 23. this is fucked up, like really fucked up.

| my life by your side was fucked, and now my soul is full of cysts, every time I see my dark circles, I curse the day you put it inside me...

You're laying naked on your bed, feeling the sting of the slaps on your cheek, the bruises his grip left on your body and the hickeys he gave to your neck, you feel happy, despite the pain, cause he's back. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette while he reads an article about his favorite rapper, he's not even looking at you.

"Yoongi..."

Reaching to hold his hand gently you call him, like you always do, in contrast with his his rough and possesive grip. You can feel his long, slender calloused fingers and you just want to feel them inside you, but you don't wanna sound greedy, cause you know that'll inflate his ego. But he can read you from head to toe, he knows what you want, how you want it and he's so proud of himself for having you like this, do submissive and ready for him.

"What is it, baby?" He murmurs, leaning closer to you. You can smell the strong scent of tobacco on his breath and feel the heat emanating from him. You're too shy to say it, but he feels in a nice mood today so he's not gonna make you beg. He presses the tip of his cigarette against your thigh, rubbing it until it stops burning and leaving a painful burn mark on you thigh. He lets out a chuckle as you flinch slightly from the burn on your thigh. There he could go, holding you, showing you he loves you, but he don't do nice shit. He told you, his version of loving you was making you his and "You good, baby?" It hurt like hell, but you can't complain cause that'll only feed his need of makin you suffer, so you swallow your sobs and bite your pouty lips, lips he loves to see tremble and bleed.

He watches as your pupils dilate with desire and pain, he knows you're trying to put on a brave face, but he don't care. He just wants to do whatever it takes to make you break down. His hands grips your thighs harder, leaving bruises behind. He takes another drag of his cigarette and puts it out on the ashtray before putting his hand on your cheek, tracing your smooth skin with his calloused thumb, just to raise his hand and land a hard slap across your face.

He sneers at the sound of your whimper, enjoying the sight of marks staining your face, the reddish mark blending with your pale skin making it a sight to behold. Your hands go to your reddening cheek as tears brimming your eyes. He doesn't care for the tears, they're just a bonus as he watch them fall down your face, staining your cheeks with wet mascara tracks, making you look so pretty and vulnerable, just how he loves it. He leans down, pressing his lips on yours, taking your breath away, tasting the salt from your tears and the sweetness of your lip balm. His hands move up to your wrists and he holds them above your head, immobilizing you as he deepens the kiss. You feel so utterly in love with him, like he could ask you to jump off the highest building and you would without a second thought. You love him so much, and nothing he does could ever change that.

He chuckles before biting your lower lip, tugging at it. His free hand wraps around your neck, squeezing tightly and making you gasp for air. It hurts, and you know it's gonna leave a big bruise on your throat, but you don't complain. He chuckles darkly at your muffled protest, feeling you squirm under him, the feeling makes him harder, and that ticks him off more, his arousal making him do stupid, stupid shit. He watches you, his dark eyes devouring you completely, the bruises around your neck, the purple marks he left on your thighs, your red cheeks, your swollen abused lips, your still sore pussy after such rough fucking, his work of art. You look like you've been through hell, and it honestly looks good on you. His grip tightens a little, but just enough to make you shut up without knocking you out.

He grins darkly as he watches you, his other hand now trailing down your chest, his middle finger tracing your bruised and bleeding pussy lips, he smirks before pushing it into you a little, just enough to remind you of the rough fucking you had earlier, as he watches the small mix of pain and delight on your reddened face, your eyes a bit unfocused as he chokes harder. He laughs darkly before slowly easing his finger in and out of your abused pussy, he can feel your body responding to him, your warm little pussy trying to grip onto his one and only finger. Your walls contract slightly around him, not sure if you are trying to fucking push him out or trap him in there. You let tiny choked whimpers, your body pressing against the mattress as your hands hold on to the bedsheets.

He grins before slowly adding two fingers, making you gasp loudly as he easily stretches you open with his thick and long fingers, your swollen pussy struggles to accommodate him, leaving a tiny trail of blood on his fingers, blood he drew a few hours later from fucking you raw without preparation. His grip on your neck is not as tight as before, since he's too focused on your pussy. It hurts, but since it's him, you don't complain and take it gratefully. He starts to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy, your tiny abused hole gushing pre-cum, such a sight to see. His fingers curl up, trying to scrape against that little button inside you and make you scream for him, yet again. He lets go of your throat, smirking as he watches you gasp for air, and now his whole attention goes to your sweet cunt, two fingers buried inside you and one rubbing your clit.

He watches with a little amazements as your belly starts to bulge, a sign of your womb contracting around his fingers, welcoming him and suck his fingers inside you, his breath hitches, while he feels himself hardening even more by the beautiful sight in front of him, you twitching and whimpering in a torturing pleasure. You sob in ecstacy, covering your mouth with your trembling fingers as you feel your orgasm building up.

He stops his torturous motions, and takes his hand out of you, his fingers glistening with your wetness, he brings it up to his face, smelling your scent deeply on his fingers before he licks them clean with pleasure, you taste so sweet, he could eat you out every day and never get tired. He watched you whimper in frustration after your interrupted orgasm, but he's going to give you something even better.

He lets a wicked smirk free, he slowly unbuttons his jeans and then take it down with his boxers, he has a hard now, his large cock intimidating as it throbs for you, flushed and ready. He chuckles again as he watches you keep yourself busy by rubbing yourself on his hardening bulge, he watches with pure lust in his eyes. He moves himself and laid on the bed, his hands beside his body as he smirks at you. "Go ahead, baby, ride me."

He felt the heat coming from your pussy as you sit on his thighs, slowly sliding down, feeling him stretching out your insides. His cock twitches inside you, he gritted his teeth in restraint as he watches you start moving up and down, holding in the painful whimpers threading to escape from the wide stretching. You always struggle to take him inside since he's like 10-11 inches, sometimes he's nice and let's you ride him to go to your own pace, sometimes he fucks you dry and raw, tearing your walls and not giving a fuck.

He let's you go on with your own pace, watching you fuck him and play yourself, he grabs your tits and twists your nipples, he sees the sweet pain in your eyes as you get ready to cum soon. A groan escapes his lips, he can feel himself about to cum inside you. He loves dominating you, fucking you so bad and making you cry, and that's exactly what he's gonna do when this first "vanilla" round is over.

He feels your pussy clenching his thick cock, squeezing him, he lets himself go as he thrusts his hips up and releases inside your tight pussy, groaning and feeling your tight walls milking him dry. Catching his breath, Yoongi slaps your cheek gently, pulling you to look at him. He smirks at the wet and hot look on your face as you cum on his cock, your juices flowing out of your pussy like a river as you sob in delight, so fucking cute.

He smirks, pulling out of you and watching your pussy gush, loving the sight of seeing you so fucked out on his bed. "Fucking little needy bitch." He uses his semi-limp dick to continue smearing his cum and juices around in and out of your needy pussy and rubbing it on your swollen clit. He grabs his boxers and stuffs them into your mouth in some kind of improvised gag before turning you around onto your stomach, pressing your head against the mattress with his hand.

He's not done with you, not by a long shot. The fact that you're such a easy and willing slut really turns him on, he doesn't even know why he broke up with you if he can have this every night. He's pretty sure he's never going to be able to be satisfied enough by just fucking you once and he wants to hear you scream, so he spits in your asshole, spreading it around with his fingers before aligning his cock with your tight hole.

He growls at the feeling, the tightness of your ass makes him choke up. He wants to fuck you so bad that he sees stars for a moment. "How does it fucking feel, huh? Pretty fucking good?" He doesn't even wait for an answer, he grabs onto your hair and pins your hands behind your back as he roughly fucks your ass, the wet slaps of his hips against you the only real noise in the room aside from your moans from his boxer-gag.

He's gone insane. He knows he's insane. But he cannot stop his actions, he wants to fuck you so hard that you forget your own name. He sees how your body reacts to him, the goosebumps on your skin, the painful muffled moans. The rougher he gets, the more you react, and it's absolutely maddening to him. He leans down and whispers harshly in your ear, "You like that, doll? You want me to fuck you harder? Hmm?" He coos, smacking your ass once but hard.

The sounds you make, the cute as fuck and god-damn sensual fucking moans that come from you even with the boxer-gag, it literally drives the man insane, wanting to fuck you in every way and every hole. He groans as he starts to thrust even faster, his pace relentless and unforgiving. He can feel the pressure building up in his balls, the tension that makes him almost dizzy. "Fuck..." He groans, it feels so fucking good.

He bites his lower lip as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. He wants to drag it out, make you cum over and over again before he allows himself that sweet release but it's so hard to hold back when he can feel just how much your body loves what he's doing to you. He hears your begging, he sees your trembling whole body almost pleading for that cum, that release. He sees the desperation on your drooling face, the flushed cheeks, the teary eyes.

Yoongi pulls back, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he smacks your ass again in that hard, very fucking satisfying motion which only a sadistic asshole like him would be able to pull off without a care in a world. He gives into it. Fuck. He can't hold back anymore and he doesn't want to. With one hard, deep thrust he pushes himself over the edge, grunting deeply as every muscle in his body clenches and tightens with each pulse of his cock inside your bowels. The feeling of his hot cum makes you come too, your ass clenching tightly around his cock. You choke out a few weak whimpers against the gag, tears streaming down your face as you cum so hard you almost faint.

He smirks, panting softly, looking down at the sight of his cum leaking out of your asshole and running down your thighs. He watches you with a dark possessive gleam in his eyes, his body still pressed up against yours. He knows he's hurt you, but it feels to good to stop, he likes to see you in pain, and he knows you like it too. He spreads your asscheeks, admiring your swollen red puckered hole gushing out his cum and your legs trembling like jelly.

He can see strands of cum running down your thighs and pussy lips and it's such a sight to see. He leans down to press a kiss against your tender asscheek, you smells like sex and baby powder, a dangerous combo, you always smell so good. He takes his boxers out for your mouth and you can finally breath correctly, saliva dripping out of your mouth as you take a few seconds to regain consciousness, you feel dazed, like this was a nightmare, a very good and exciting nightmare.

He gives you a cruel smile, enjoying seeing you that vulnerable, looking so fragile like a broken doll. He lays next to you and pulls you into his arms, his hands kneading your ass tightly as your body rests against his and your head against his chest, hearing his heart beat going steadier every minute. You love him so much, despite his rough sex, his aggressive manners, his cold demeanor and his unknown feelings for you, you feel the most pure innocent love for him, uninterested and puppy love.

He puts his hand in your hair, threading his fingers through your soft strands. He leans down to press a light kiss against your lips, so gentle and sweet that it sends shivers down your spine. He whispers in your ear. "Can't even make me cum right but I still fuck you because I want you to remember who you belong to" He whispers, he knows it's not true, he stopped cheating on you cause no girl could please him like you do, but he loves to say this type of stuff so you allow him to go further and further every time, eager to please him and be the best for him.

His arms wrap tighter around your waist, pulling you closer. He runs his thumb over your lips, forcing them to part before slipping it into your mouth, letting it slide against your tongue. "You're such a pretty doll," He whispers, pressing a single peck to your lips, making you whimper for more. He kisses your neck and nibbles on its delicate skin, working his way down, leaving a line of hickeys on your neck and chest for everyone to see.

He wants to fuck you again, he wants to fuck you so bad you scream and beg him to stop, so bad you bleed and pass out. But you're already so spent and tired, he's not a monster either, do he decides to stop, for tonight, at least. He ruffles your hair and presses a kiss against your temple. "Sleep" He says as he stands up to put his clothes back on, lighting a cigarette and standing near the window to smoke.

You wrap yourself in the bedsheets, feeling your body aching. Your cunt and ass are still sore, so you shift uncomfortably and press your thugs together trying to ease the pain, you can still feel his cum inside you, probably you'll be dripping it until tomorrow. But you feel happy, you feel loved, you feel fine cause he's back. He's everything you need, no matter what he does or how much he hurts you, you could never hate him.

The next day, you wake up feeling happy. Yoongi is sleeping peacefully next to you, snoring with his arm thrown over his eyes, still like a mummy. You smile and get off bed carefully, trying to not wake him up as you walk towards the bathroom to clean yourself. As you look into the mirror, you can see the bruises and hickeys he left all over your body. You have a large bruise on your throat from where he choked you last night and one on the back of both of your thighs and on your ass from the harsh pounding.

You take a deep breath and move your hair back away from your neck, tracing the bruises on your skin with your fingers. You let out a sigh, touching them gently before turning around and looking down at the bruises on the back of your thighs. You can't go to school like this, so you'll have to wait until they disappear. You take a quick shower, watching as his cum drips out of your sore cunt and asshole. You finish cleaning yourself up and look back into the mirror. Yoongi's cum is no longer staining your thighs, but the bruises he left behind are still evident of the force he had behind the previous night. It made you smile happily, if only just a little. You walk out of the bathroom wearing only one of his shirts that looks huge on you and a pair of panties, your stomach is empty, but that's just normal after he rearranged your insides last night.

You go to the small kitchen of your apartment to make yourself a coffee, your mind still replaying last night's events. You pour some coffee into a cup and add some milk and vanilla, stirring it softly before taking a sip. Just as you're doing so, feeling your throat ache as you swallow, you feel a rough spank against your ass, the stinging pain making you flinch and almost drop your coffee. You turn around inmediatly, watching Yoongi chuckling to himself in amusement.

"Morning" He grabs your waist and pulls you closer, rubbing his morning wood against your stomach. You giggle shyly, trying to push him away as he kisses your neck hungrily. "Yoongi..." You chuckle, gasping as his hands squeeze your ass cheeks harshly, his rough touch making you feel butterflies in your belly. Sometimes you feel like there's something wrong with you, maybe you're a masochist who likes pain, but you don't like pain, you just like his abuse.

He smirks at your response and grabs your thighs, lifting you up quickly and placing you on the counter top. You blush furiously as he smirks and takes his pants off, showing his rock hard cock that's already leaking pre cum, it looks so pretty and swollen, you just want to make him cum inside you and feel good. He pushes your panties aside and thrusts into you without any preparation, you're not wet yet, so you wince in pain as his cock stretches and tears your walls.

He doesn't care about your reaction, he starts to fuck you hard, grunting and moaning on every thrust. You cry in pain, tears falling down your cheeks as his thrusts hit your womb, making you bleed and bruise a little. He doesn't care, he never cares. "Fuck" He lets out a breathless chuckle, it's cute how even when you're hurting, you don't tell him to stop or push him again, such willing and easy slut with such a delicious cunt.

He starts to speed up, slamming his dick inside your pussy raw and hard, causing you to bleed more. His rough hands grab at your soft flesh, leaving bruises and red marks on your thighs for days after. He grabs your face, making you look at him in the eyes as he keeps fucking you, brutally and without mercy. His cold eyes make you shiver a little, but you don't dare to look away, he would scold you if you did. "Oh my fucking God..." He growls as he feels your tiny ass hands grip his forearms, your cute lips pouting and drooling.

He leans down to kiss you, his rough tongue fucking your mouth while he fucks your cunt. One of his hands reaches for your throat, gripping it lightly at first and then more strongly as he chokes you a little. Your tears fall on him, the saltiness mixing with his own sweat. He loves to hear you scream and moan, it shows how much you crave him to touch you, to fuck you. He loves taking what he wants, and right now it's your wet tight cunt.

He pulls out of you with a loud growl, his cum dripping from your cunt and onto the counter. He smacks your ass brutally, causing you to whimper and cry even more, but he knows how much you love it, how good it makes you feel. "Get on your knees." He commands you and you obey inmediatly, he chuckles while wiping his dick on your face, watching you as you close your eyes and open your mouth to catch every single drop.

He grins at you, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with a rough finger. "I love it when you cry, it's just so fucking hot." He says as he pushes your head down onto his cock again, forcing you to suck him dry of your own spit. You choke and gag, but you don't pull away or try to push him, you just take it. He grabs your hair in a pony tail to handle your head better, rocking your head back and forth, feeling your throat squeeze his tip and your cute lips suck him.

He moans loudly as you deep throat him, your spit dripping from his dick and onto the floor. He's close to coming but he wants to enjoy it for a bit more, teasing your mouth with shallow thrusts. You look so fucking pretty, tears falling of your shiny innocent eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips around his shaft and hollowed cheeks. He grabs his phone and takes some pics, just to have something to jerk off to later, he has thousands of pics of you, he didn't even ask you if you were ok with it but you didn't say no either.

He groans as he comes inside your mouth, holding your head tightly and shoving his cock deep in your mouth so you can't spit it out. He watches you as you swallow it all, cum dripping from the corner of your mouth. He throws your hair back gently before giving you a little slap on the cheek with his semi-hard cock, his other hand he takes to his phone to record you while he pumps the last drops on your lips and cheeks.

He gives you a satisfied smile as he watches the mess he made on your face. He takes off his wet cock out of your mouth, pushing it against your face, rubbing it all over, enjoying seeing you like this a little more than he should. He grabs your chin and wipes off the remaining cum from your face with his thumb, before sticking it in your mouth for you to suck clean. You do it happily, breathing heavily and looking up at him with such adoration and submission.

He's the love of your life, you've said it before and you stand behind it. Nothing he does could change that.

Nothing.

[nanamissuit]

Aaa I just discovered your blog with the Kon Kon and reader with autism—my heart ;u;

is it possible to ask for a part 2 of that, if that’s ok! Maybe like early stages of König and his partner but maybe the reader has also never experienced a romantic relationship?

so sorry if this is odd or anything ;3; I hope you’re having a great day and staying hydrated!!

His love - König 2

Pairing: König x Autistic!GN Reader

Warnings: Gun mention,Fluff

Boyfriend!König Who has had eyes on you before he even knew your name, he found you so intriguing. When he finally built the courage to ask for your name and number you gave it to him.

Boyfriend!König Who notices very early on that you don’t really understand his flirting and some of his jokes so he makes his best efforts to make it extremely obvious to you so you’re not confused.

Boyfriend!König Who is so excited when you finally pick up on his hints. He asked you out on a date and you happily accepted. 

Boyfriend!König Who listens to all your little rambles on your first date no matter what it was about just because he loved hearing your voice and you being so interested in something, but that’s when the topic of relationships came up.

“Yeah so I’ve never had a serious relationship, my autism kinda gets in the way is what I’m told.” “People are douchebags Schatz you’re perfect. I promise your autism isn’t an issue. I’ll love you no matter what.”

You smiled at his statement and when the date was over you invited him to your house for a little movie date. He remembered the movie you talked about at dinner and immediately put it on for you just so he could see you get all excited, and that's when he first learned about your stimming and he was so in love.

Boyfriend!König Who buys you loads of flowers and you’re not used to all the kind treatment he shows you so you get embarrassed and just say, “Thank you Kon Kon.” Which is a nickname you gave him early on because you thought it would suit him.

But one day you slowly understand the flowers and you start giving him kisses on the cheek instead, and his face gets all red and he has to pretend that didn’t just make his heart all fuzzy and warm.

Boyfriend!König Who makes sure you understand his jokes and humor. He makes sure that no one around you makes fun of you either because you can’t quite understand the difference in sarcasm and seriousness.

Like for example someone called you dumb and that was sarcasm so he looked at you and just said “Sarcasm.” And you nodded but one time someone called you annoying and he said “Seriousness” And you got upset and he punched them.

Boyfriend!König Who remembers all your hyperfixations and buys things that are related to whatever you like, whether it be a book, action figure, album, tapestry, etc. He’s bought it for you. 

Boyfriend!König Who lets you have designated times alone so you can regroup and calm down. If you ever go to his base and someone dares to bother you during that time? 10 Laps and 30 Pushups. He wants his love to be able to calm down after a long day of loud noises and annoying people.

Boyfriend!König Who lets you do his skincare, makeup, nails, or even hair. Whatever you wanna do he lets you. He has no problem embracing his feminine side a bit. 

Boyfriend!König Who lets you pick out every song in the car if you go on a road trip just because he loves to see that little smile and adores you when you get all happy over something small.

Boyfriend!König Who has let you touch his guns with the safety lock on. You have no idea how many people he’s killed with that but you find it so fascinating he just has them. He smiles whenever you observe them and ask questions about them. 

Boyfriend!König Who orders food to the house instead of going out because you hate loud surroundings and crowded ones you despise so he’ll order whatever food you’re craving just because. He’ll even feed it to you if you asked him to. And he makes sure to use the right spoon,knife,and fork so you’re not uncomfortable.

I really like this HC sm RAHHHH<3