#i will always care more about player characters

[neeeooon]

hi !!

could you do headcanons for blue lock characters in a relationship with someone whos really really pretty and she models, like she could just be walking past and people wouldn’t be able to take their eyes off her.

characters could you include karasu, bachira, barou and whoever else idm!!

you can ignore if you’re not interested! thank you!!!

thank you for the request!! i hope you like it <3

when you’re a model ;

bf bllk x fem!model!reader

karasu tabito

-> oh my god karasu is so in love with you. like he’s the boyfriend that worships the ground you walk on and isn’t embarrassed to show it

-> gets doors for you, pulls your chair out so you can sit, blocks you from cameras and prying eyes when you get overwhelmed, always tells you when you have lipstick on your teeth. yep, he’s a keeper

-> he willingly takes a step back and lets you make your own decisions. since your careers are both so fast paced, you’re often traveling. that just means when karasu sees you again, he’s all yours

-> “what’s the plan for today?” “i don’t know. can we just stay in bed and watch cringe tv?” “of course, pretty.”

bachira meguru

-> bachira doesn’t care that you’re a model, the same way you don’t care that he’s a soccer player. you’re proud of and support each other, but those occupations aren’t the reason you’re together

-> one thing he does love about your job, though, is the unlimited (and free) supply of sponsorship handouts

-> the deals that come with soccer are boring. energy drinks? shoes? no. bachira much prefers your calming face masks and cleansers

-> “you’re only dating me for the free facials, aren’t you.” “hey! you get to keep the energy drinks. it’s a fair trade!” “sure. i love you.” “i love you too~”

barou shouei

-> barou knows you’re beautiful. you’re a model, for goodness sakes. it’s never a surprise when people’s eyes follow you when you’re in public, but he can’t not keep a hand on your back or around your waist

-> that said, he isn’t the type to crowd or control you. if you want to go out late with your model friends, he comes with but only to keep an eye on you. doesn’t ruin your fun and even gives in when you drag him onto the dance floor with you

-> one thing he won’t stand for, though, are any of his teammates making comments about you. innocent or not, your name is banned from the locker room

-> “if i hear her name leave your lips one more time, i’m gonna stick my fist so far up your—“ “okay! i’m sorry!”

yukimiya kenyu

-> yukimiya is also a model, not to the level that you are, but he understands a bit of what it’s like for you

-> one thing he does do is push the healthiest diet and exercise plans in your direction. healthiest as in ones that still require you to eat three full meals a day and not work yourself to exhaustion

-> your modeling career is still new, so you don’t know what you’d do without your supportive boyfriend. his only intentions have been to love and support you since day 1, not use you

-> “y/n, love, do you need anything while i’m out?” “hmm, do we have enough protein powder—“ “dark chocolate and blueberries, got it.” “yuki :’)”

[aninipanin1]

I love the manager x coaches. Would it be fine if Y/N brings her niece to job and little rascal pretends Y/N is her mom instead?

Niece: "You know my mama?"

Coaches and players: *Having heart attack.*

I'm not sure if it would be too out there or out of character. I just thought it might be funny. Hope you have inspiration 🩷

MAMA?!

Notes: Was legit abt to start the Little Mermaid fic for Chigiri but I suddenly had the urge to write for adult manager cause its been so long since I wrote one lmaooo and this was so cute so I just had to even though I said reqs are closed I JUST HAD TOOOOO

"There you are, Y/n! It's so good to see you!" Your cousin, Eina hugged you tight, patting your back softly. It has been a while since you last saw her due to both your busy lives with you as the manager of Blue Lock and her as a mother of two, as well as taking care of a small family business.

Coming from a family of businessmen and women was definitely not an easy responsibility, and you were just so happy that you did not get involved in the many drama when it came to your family's many businesses.

Eina was your cousin from your father's side and was the only one who did not spite or hated you for not being in the same calibre as your sister and other cousins. You loved her and always viewed her like the older sister you never had.

"Auntie! Auntie!"

You heard the familiar squeal, as you were immediately tackled by a toddler. Groaning in pain, you let out a small chuckle before kneeling on the ground to stare at the cute little girl eye to eye.

"It's been so long, Aina-chan! Look at how much you've grown! How old are you now, hm?"

"I'm this many!" She showed you four fingers, to which you smiled proudly.

"Wow, such a big girl! You're so cute, my little snookledum."

Carrying her in your arms while pretending to snatch her nose away, your cousin finally made you both turn due to her good natured laugh.

"Are you sure you and your boss are fine with it? I can always leave her to a nanny..."

The worried look on her face made you snicker, before shaking your head.

"Oh, of course it is! I wouldn't have said yes. Besides, I think this pretty girl deserves some aunty time for a few days! Whaddya say, my snookledum?"

"Yeah! Aunty time!" She cheered, engulfing you in a warm hug.

"We'll be fine. Worry more about the meetings okay? I'll take care of her as I always do."

"Auntyyyyy...Aina is bored. Let's play I spy!"

The little girl clung onto your arms the moment you both entered the Blue Lock facility where the four year old would be staying for a few days until her mother returned from her business trip in Singapore.

She definitely was a little sunshine, always wanting to play and not even flinching at the sudden change of location. If you were to be honest, in another life, you would want to have Aina's extrovetedness, and maybe then, you'll actuallh start having more friends and become more open when it came to different things.

"Hmm, how about later? It is lunch time, after all. Aren't you hungry, Aina-chan?"

Just as she was about to answer, a loud grumbling was heard from her little tummy which made you laugh.

"Welp, your stomach spoke for you. C'mon, let's eat!"

This went on for a few more days, with the only people who have seen Aina being Ego and Anri, mainly because even though the girl was energetic and an extrovert, she was easy to distract for hours on end. Just give her an interesting toy, and she won't drop it for a second until she realised that her bum hurt from sitting and playing for too long.

You toom advantage of that, leaving her to your office a few times to take care of the players while the rest of your day you will be cooped up inside your room, working and taking care of her at the same time.

However, in the midst of her stay, something else caught Aina's attention other than the toys you gave her.

She was with Anri (who she started calling Aunty too), who watched on from the monitors, overlooking some of the players for Ego while he went out somewhere to do 'something' apparently. Aina grew more attached to Ego than she did with Anri, and that is something most of you noticed. (Although Ego tries to pretend he hates the toddler)

It was probably because they do look eerily alike, with the same straight black hair and eye shape with along with a skinnier build and pale skin. The only exception was Aina taking the classic (e/c) colour everyone from your father's family had

You and Anri will secretly joked about how Ego was the real father and that somehow, the little girl was just swapped at birth or something, but it was all in good fun.

Back to the little girl, Aina looked at all the monitors, wanting to see if there were any familiar faces in them. To which she panned at one in the bottom and found you talking to Chris Prince amicably. And well, from that angle you did look a teeny bit like your cousin, Eina, hence why the little girl on the chair started to shout to call her mama, or who she thought was her mama.

"Mama! Mama! Youre back!"

Anri, seeing the cheering toddler could not help but smile fondly, however she did approach the little girl and told her that it was just you, her aunty and not her mama. Aina, just frowned at that, missing her mother dearly.

Well, that was until Anri had a brilliant idea, one that made her giggle mischievously.

"Hey, Aina-chan! Do you like pranks?"

The little girl's eyes brightened as she jumped from the chair she was in.

"Ooh! Yes! Yes please! Let's do a prank aunty! What are we gunna do?"

The smirk on the elder woman's face became wider as she started to whisper in the little girl's ear.

"That's all the JFU wanted to tell all of you. Now go."

Ego said coldly, dismissing the masters who all sat around the long table. The director of Blue Lock called for a very quick meeting with the rest of the masters. Since Anri was not free at the moment due to working with something that is related to the Neo-Egoist League (and also babysitting), you were the one called in to take notes.

The masters did not immediately leave, most of them approaching you to start small talks (ahem Chris and Lavinho ahem) while the others were busy taking the time to write down some things and cleaning up their things scattered on the table.

However, the automatic door suddenly opened, which made everyone look towards who was entering the meeting room, when a flash of long black hair and a small figure ran to your direction.

Flinching with a groan, you were definitely taken aback by the tight hug. You were suddenly attacked by a small figure. Small arms wrapped around your middle.

"Mama! I missed you!"

Crickets.

At first, it was just you who was in shock, not even sure why she called you her 'mama' when you are clearly not. But, it was not just you as gasps was heard around the room.

Chris gasped like he had just discovered the most scandalous gossip ever. Lavinho's looked like he was close to passing out. Snuffy's smile almost vanished as a vein popped in his forehead. Noa's eyes were colder than it usually felt like. While Ego just looked on emotionlessly, he was definitely more than confused, especially when you told him the child was your cousin's.

"Sweetie, wha-"

"Mama, you were gone for too long. I wanted to see you."

Aina hugged you tighter, her puppy eyes already on as she tried to look as innocent as possible which definitely worked on you.

"You have a daughter, Y/n-san?"

Loki was the only voice of reason amongst the quiet and heartbroken quiet adult men, as he just smiled at the young girl who is now in your arms.

"What? Oh, no! You misunderstand-"

But as if bad luck is not already on your side today, the little girl in your arms turned around to face Ego, who still sat calmly on his chair and called out to him in a name that you knew will legit get you in trouble.

"Papa! Hi! You're here too! Aina missed you!"

Now, that had everyone's mouth on the floor. Yes, even Noa and Loki had their mouths open, although not as exaggerated as the others.

"WHAT?!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Ego, you bastard-"

Ego just raised an eyebrow at the predicament, not even trying to stop and deny the claims. Instead, he even seemed to be enjoying it.

The coaches were definitely pissed. Out of all the men in the world you could have chosen (ahem themselves ahem) you chose to be with Ego?! And even worse, bear his child?!

Looking at the girl in your arms, she seems to be the perfect mix of you and Ego. Her hair, skin and build reminiscent of the man while her (e/c) eyes definitely came from you. So there was no doubt in their heads that it was not true!

You did look good holding a child, and you seemed to be very good with them. The little girl seemed to be enamoured with you, playing with the ends of your hair or pecking your cheek. You'd definitely be a good mother.

Now, if only you did not conceive with that four-eyed fucking asshole-

"Wait, I swear its not like that, guys-"

"No, don't worry, Y/n. You can tell us everything." Noa said stoically.

"Yeah. Did he force you or anything? We can call the authorities on him or even beat him up for you if you want." Lavinho added to which you blinked in horror at.

"What?! Please don't! Let me explain-"

"No, no, Y/n. You don't have to explain or remember the things he did. Seeing as to how he treats you and the lack of ring on your finger, I can see he does not give importance to you as a woman." Snuffy said, holding your shoulders gently, pushing you beside him and away from the ravenette man in question.

"You don't have to worry a thing, pretty. We'll take care of this." Chris said, cracking his knuckles to which you panicked even more.

"Um guys, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Loki said, seeing you panic and the absolute irrational conclusions of the four coaches.

"You all are talking about me as if I'm not here." Ego finally responded on the accusations. Although his words did not help at all in making the situation worse.

"You have the audacity to even remind us you are still here." Lavinho said, walking closer to the man who still did not look like he feared for his life at all.

"Oh my god! STOP! I've been trying to tell all of you that it's not what it looks like! Aina over here is the daughter of my cousin! Me and Ego-san did not do anything disgusting! Now can anyone not fight in front of a toddler and a minor?!"

You said in a mini outburst, leaving Aina to Loki while you glared at all of them. Yes, even Ego who did not immediately deny the accusations.

All of them were of course taken aback by the outburst, used to your soft and kind countenance most of the time. So to see you mad for the first time definitely made them a little guilty.

And also gush because you looked hot-

Ahem, anyway. It took a bit of deeper explanation before they were fully convinced, and well, there was no apology at all for what they said to Ego. He's still an enemy for you in their eyes, so why would they become all buddy-buddy with their opponent?

For the rest of the day, the coaches just ended up watching you be maternal and soft from afar, thinking to themselves that you will indeed be a good future mother someday. And hopefully (and if you'd agree to it), they would be the one who will see that you every day.

ADDITIONAL TIME:

Unbeknownst to you, though, someone was eavesdropping, and that certain someone was Otoya. Running back to his room, he was cackling like an evil conspirator, chatting with the others on his phone:

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[spiderb00]

- Fam out #6

Sophia Laforteza x reader 

“You and Sophia never fight, so imagine Yoonchae's surprise when she found out she would have to postpone her plan for a few more days” 

Genre – Fluff     Warnings – Sophia and Yn fight, but it's the usual fam out cuteness 

(request) 

Now playing – Compass, by The Neighbourhood 

The towel on the bed was grabbed roughly, Sophia's hands squeezing the fabric tightly as she hurried downstairs. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but Sophia always let it go, every time it happened she just took a deep breath and put the towel away, talking to you about it and listening to the embarrassed apologies that came out of your mouth. But this time, she was tired.   

As soon as you appeared in Sophia's field of vision, the towel she was holding was thrown over you, covering the view you had of the television. “Seriously, Yn!”   

You quickly tried to get the towel off your head, but it seems you weren't quick enough, because now your character was on the ground, while some other player was stealing the items that were yours. “NO! Sophia, you made me lose.”   

“I don't care about your stupid game! How many times have I told you not to leave a wet towel on the bed? Seriously, Yn. How old are you? Five years old?” Running a hand through her hair in frustration, Sophia watched you get up, while throwing the towel on the sofa.   

“Yeah, but what was the point of waiting until I'd finished the match?” You say, barely having time to react when the video game controller is snatched from your hand and thrown onto the sofa.   

“I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR GAME!” Sophia says, coming closer to you, making you automatically take a step back. “THIS WOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU'D PUT THINGS IN THE RIGHT PLACES!”   

“I PUT THINGS IN THE RIGHT PLACES!” The look Sophia gave you made you think about all your life choices, and lower your voice the next second. “I mean... I put things in the right places.”   

“No, you don't! I've been complaining about your towel on the bed for weeks, but what do you do? You keep leaving the towel on the bed!” Sophia says, making your head spin.   

The shouting, the complaining, you know it's your fault, but it was all making you a bit dizzy. “I just forgot...”  

“You didn't forget. You're acting like a damn child, you were addicted to this stupid game and you're simply forgetting the basic things you used to do.” Sophia said.  

She was frustrated too, not just about the towel, but because she'd missed you lately. You were spending so much time on your video game that you were forgetting about her. It had been weeks since you and Sophia had gone out together, weeks since you had done anything nice, or romantic, or even “family”. All because of that stupid video game.   

“Well, I have the right to have a bit of fun too. Maybe I'd like to be with my company, be alone for a bit too!” You say, without thinking.   

Laughing sarcastically, Sophia pushes your chest, making you fall onto the sofa. past you, the Filipino girl picked up her phone, putting on her shoes and texting someone. 

“What are you doing?” You said, getting up from the sofa quickly.   

“I'm going out. You want your space, have your space!”   

The deafening slam of the door was the last thing you heard, trying to follow Sophia only to see an Uber pull up in front of both your houses.   

It was Thursday, the silence in the house bothered you, any noise could be heard, and that made you feel empty. The days have gone by very slowly, since your fight with Sophia, you've been getting more and more upset, the thought that things didn't have to come to this, the thought that it was all a stupid fight, the thought that you could have avoided it. It was stupid.   

You wanted to make up with Sophia, to tell her that you'd been an idiot, that you'd been childish, that she was right and that she could come home now, because you missed her so much. But unfortunately, since that day, you haven't been able to see Sophia, you've respected her space, but you couldn't lie in saying that your heart didn't race every time she sent you a message.   

“Yoonchae is waiting for you.”  

“Come back at eight, we have appointments the next morning.”  

Parking the car in front of the Kats' house, you waited for Yoonchae to get out, seeing the younger girl running towards you. “Hey, kiddo! I missed you.”   

Yoonchae didn't really understand why you and Sophia were fighting, she just assumed it must be something serious, since you've never fought before. How wrong she was... “I missed you too. It's very strange to see you and Sophia apart.”   

As you got into the car, you sighed at Yoonchae's words, you knew that it affected her too, even if only a little. She was used to you and Sophia going out together, spoiling her constantly, looking after her like two mother tigers look after their cubs, and now, it was like she was missing out on part of a good thing.   

“I know...” You say, starting to drive through the streets towards the mall, where Yoonchae would spend all your money. “I'm sorry about that, it was just a stupid fight...”  

“But you'll fix it, right?” Yoonchae's question made your heart skip a few beats.  

Honestly, you had no idea. You and Sophia had never fought like this, you'd never gone more than a day without speaking to each other, you hoped it would never happen, and if it did, it wouldn't be because of something stupid you'd done.   

Giving a tight-lipped smile, you glanced at Yoonchae briefly, only to see the younger girl already looking at you for some kind of confirmation, anything that might reassure her. “Yeah, of course.”  

Boy, you were so lost.  

The clock on your wrist read 8:30 p.m., and you knew Sophia was going to kill you. Damn it, she was already mad at you, and now this? But it wasn't your fault that you were having so much fun with Yoonchae, the younger girl's happiness was making you forget your responsibilities.   

“You're late!” Sophia was already at the door, she was probably spying on the car through the window, and when you parked, she was already ready to unleash the dogs on you.   

“Sorry, we lost track of time...” Yoonchae tries to explain, lifting the shopping bags as if that justifies everything.   

“We have appointments early tomorrow morning, and you know she has trouble getting up early, Yn!” 

“I don't...” Yoonchae tried.  

“I know, I'm sorry, we were just having fun. It's been a while since we've seen each other.”  

“You could see more of her if you came here. Or were you still glued to the video game?”   

“Guys...” Poor maknae.  

“Why do you have to be so mean?”   

“Because someone has to put this family in order!” Sophia said, sighing before pointing in the direction of the bedrooms. “Yoonchae, go get ready for bed, we have a busy day tomorrow.”   

“But...”  

“Do what she's saying Yoonchip.” You say, giving a small smile to the younger girl, who was hesitant to leave you two alone.   

“Are you guys going to fight?”  

“No.”  

“No.”  

Looking at the two of you skeptically, Yoonchae sighed, knowing that she couldn't win the 2x1. Waving goodnight, she headed for her room, leaving you and Sophia staring at each other awkwardly.   

“Sorry.” It was the first thing that escaped your lips. Sophia's sigh was heard, and you took it as a chance to continue. “I know I was wrong, and I'm sorry for that. We've never spent so much time fighting, and that scares me.” You said, pausing, wondering if you were bothering her or if she was ready to have this conversation. “I miss you, baby.”  

Looking at you, Sophia's eyes softened, coming closer to you, she hugged your shoulders. “I miss you too, baby.”   

The truth is that you both recognized how silly it had all been. You knew you'd made a mistake, Sophia was right to complain to you about your sloppy attitudes, since you'd never been like that and seemed to be in a kind of constant black hole with that new game you'd picked up. And Sophia recognized that perhaps she had stressed herself too much, getting overwhelmed with the job of leader and all the things she had to deal with on a daily basis.   

“I'm sorry for yelling at you, and leaving...” Sophia began.  

“It's okay, baby. I understand, you were overwhelmed.” You said, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I love you.”   

“I love you too.” Sophia said, moving closer and sealing her lips with yours.  

The kiss was full of love, saying all the things you've wanted to say to each other for weeks, killing all the desire you've felt all these days.  

“How about we say goodnight to Yoonchae, and you take me home?” Sophia said, looking at you with a look full of love.   

“I think that's a wonderful idea.”   

Yoonchae's voice was muffled, but the two of you could hear her saying “Come in” right after you knocked on the door.   

You could have sworn you saw Yoonchae's eyes light up when she saw you and Sophia's hands intertwined, finally getting the confirmation that everything would return to normal that she so desperately wanted.  

“We came to say goodnight.” You said, approaching and kissing the forehead of the youngest girl, who was lying between the warm covers.   

“Are you all together again?” Yoonchae asked with a smile on her face.   

“Yes, everything's fine.” Sophia said, kissing the back of your hand as you smiled at her.   

Your cloud of love was soon broken by Yoonchae, who coughed falsely to get your attention. “Well then, since you've made up, I think it would be a good time for you to meet Evie.”   

Frowning, you looked at Sophia with a slight smile, seeing that she didn't know what Yoonchae was talking about either.   

“Who's Evie, Yoonchip?” Sophia asked, a confused smile on the Filipina's face.   

Looking at the two of you, Yoonchae took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders, only to make yours tense at her behavior.  

“My girlfriend.”  

Holy shit.   

“YOUR WHAT?”  

Hey babies, how are you?

It's been a while, hasn't it? We're already on part 6 of fam out, and I'm surprised this series has so many chapters.

Anyway, I've been very busy these days, I have some asks to answer, and I'm going to answer it!

just a quick stop around here, drink some water, stay safe

xoxo, spider

[underwaterbanshee]

I'm just going to say it.

I love how unbalanced the first half of the final battle turned out to be simply because it highlights how important a tool failure is to becoming a full person able to contribute meaningfully to the team.

The Rat Grinders have level twenty abilities but no practical experience using them because they haven't failed in any of their adventuring. Jace or Porter has taken the danger away from the onset of every encounter and just given them the experience and so they don't know how to work the battlefield.

It isn't even about the number of times the Bad Kids have died and come back or tripped over their own feet. Fabian and Fig both got separated from group and had really bad things happen to them during Sophomore Year that resulted in encounters where they were out of spells, abilities, strength, you name it, and had to problem solve creatively until they could get out of really dangerous situations.

I'm not going to list the miracles of Saint Kristen Chilis Applebees because this post would just never end but her miracles were always the result of something failing and her seeking a creative solution.

Riz might not get caught swiping student files now but he was caught sneaking around Hell and compromised a Celestial Undercover Op by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Gorgug has been told he'll never be smart enough his entire life. How many times did he fail with his tech checks in Freshman and Sophomore year before he got to reroll his intelligence stat block?

Adaine, who became elven oracle at fourteen, who had panic attacks all through Freshman year until someone told her she wasn't her anxiety and had a mental illness that could be medicated.

Failure is important because it teaches us how to solve problems and to take that away from children--teenagers especially--who are in the cusp of adulthood, will have consequences.

And in a world where teenagers are the ones going on adventures and saving the world--those consequences are terrifying.

So much of this season (inside and out) has been about fair, unfair, and what exactly do children owe the world that takes advantage of them and at what point do teenagers become complicit in the harm they are perpetuating. I don't think there is a perfect, nuanced answer that will satisfy everyone.

But I do think, we need to let our teenagers fail, and that somewhere, between the Bad Kids and the Rat Grinders, there is a way to do it so the world doesn't end because Arthur Auegfort decided not to return on the second day of school.

[infizero]

i think one of the things that makes toby fox's writing so great is his ability to tell a compelling narrative AND metanarrative at the same time. undertale isn't JUST about how people play games and the need for completionism, and it isn't JUST the main story that you play through. it's both! and both are equally important.

and i think the same will be true for deltarune. some people tend to think of it as black and white when theorizing, either focusing too much on the meta aspects without taking the actual plot and character arcs into account, or doing the opposite and saying that the meta aspects aren't important and won't end up being relevant to the story. it's both! it's always been both!!!

[entropolism]

dropping in just to say really quickly that kcd is massively enjoyable and I'm mad I let myself think it was for chuds only

[brokensenseofhumor]

So the entire twst fandom is going insane, good to know

[idiaa-shroxd]

YOUR WRITING IS SO PRETTY I COULD EAT IT. YOU CHARACTERIZE THE CHARACTERS SO WELL TOO!!!

thank you so much!! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ happy you think my writing is very pretty!! and also makes me happy you think my characterization was correct.

when writing for characters always take a bit of extra time to ensure they sound good? thinking about having an actual conversation with them for a minute and what they’d do! ♧ personally a big fan of viginettes since that reveals a lot of a character more than mainstory.

Σ('◉⌓◉’) mini (huge) rant within the tags of the way of my process to understand a character!!

[artidoesthings]

I have thoughts about tears of the kingdom but feel like I’m gonna get shit for disliking this game.

(Proceeds to rant in the tags)

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[ch0llies]

EARNED IT | MATTHEW STURNIOLO

brothersbestfriend!matt x innocent!reader

You’re an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt’s best friend. Which means off-limits in every way. But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can’t ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don’t understand the fire you’re playing with- but Matt does. And he’s burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.

story warnings: heavy make out, lowkey corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, pet names (sweetheart, angel), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 7k

a/n: i didn’t go into this with the intention of creating a similar story but as i read it over I’m realizing it’s very similar to an @ariestrxsh fic with the same trope. click here to read the first chapter of that! it’s very good and I recommend strongly!

You stand in front of the hallway mirror, tugging at the hem of your navy-blue dress, smoothing the fabric with your palms. The dress fits snugly, a little more mature than what you’re used to, but tonight isn’t just any night. It’s the sports award banquet. Your brother and Matt’s banquet. And your dad only let you tag along under the condition that you “stay out of trouble.”

But it wasn’t exactly you who he was worried about.

A sharp knock echoes from the front door.

“Get the fuckin’ door!” your brother shouts from upstairs.

“Okay, okay!” You huff, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you rush to answer.

When you unlock it, the bitter January air bites at your exposed skin, sending a chill down your spine. Matt stands in the doorway, hand raised mid-knock, his dark brows lifting when he takes you in.

His smirk is slight but enough to notice. “Well, don’t you look all grown up,” he muses, voice low and teasing. Then, without warning, he reaches out and ruffles the top of your freshly styled hair.

You scrunch your nose but let him, even though you just spent the better part of an hour curling it.

“Jesus, Matt,” you huff, stepping aside so he can come in. The cold air follows him as he shrugs off his coat, revealing a navy-blue suit, just a shade darker than your dress. You swallow, watching through the mirror as he tugs at his tie.

“You coming with us?” His voice is lighter now, curious but knowing.

“Yep! Daddy said I could tag along if I behave.” You smile, turning back to your reflection, smoothing your hair again.

Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer behind you, his presence warm despite the winter air still clinging to him. You watch as he adjusts his tie in the mirror, his fingers long and practiced.

“You gonna behave then, sweetheart?” His eyes flick to yours in the reflection, amusement flickering behind them.

You nod, standing up straighter, suddenly aware of the way he towers over you. It’s always been like this. Him looking down at you, you looking up. The age gap was something your brother had always made a big deal about. ”Too old for you.” “Off limits.”

But Matt never seemed to care about that.

Your breath catches when his hand moves again, messing up your hair on purpose this time.

“Matt!” you whine, swatting his arm as you twist away. “I just fixed that.”

He grins, tongue running along his front teeth as he watches you pout. “Relax, kid, you still look pretty.”

Your stomach flips at that.

Before you can say anything, your brother’s voice rings out from upstairs. “Matty B! Get your ass up here!”

Matt sighs dramatically, shooting you one last glance before jogging up the stairs. You watch him go, your fingers tightening slightly around the fabric of your dress.

The banquet hall is grand, chandeliers casting a warm glow over round tables covered in crisp white linen. The clinking of glasses and laughter fills the air as athletes and their families mingle, celebrating another season of victories. You follow closely behind your brother and Matt, your heels clicking on the marble floor as you take in the scene with wide eyes.

Your brother spots your dad near the head table and heads off with a wave. “Don’t get into trouble,” he mutters over his shoulder.

“I never do,” you chirp back, but he’s already gone.

Matt stays beside you, his hand hovering at your lower back in a way that feels protective, almost possessive, but he never actually touches you.

“You stick with me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, eyes scanning the room. “Don’t need you getting eaten alive in here.”

You blink up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

But before he can answer, a familiar voice interrupts.

“Damn, Y/N.”

You turn to see Jackson, one of your brother’s teammates, grinning at you like he’s just won something. “Didn’t know you cleaned up this nice.”

Matt stiffens beside you, but you don’t notice, too busy beaming at the compliment. “Thank you, Jackson! You look nice too.”

Jackson smirks, stepping closer. “You should let me take you out sometime. We could grab dinner, maybe see a movie, head back to my place?”

Before you can answer, Matt shifts slightly, his broad frame stepping just enough into the space between you and Jackson to make it clear. “She’s not interested,” he says casually, though there’s an unmistakable edge to his voice.

Jackson’s smirk falters. “She can answer for herself, can’t she?”

You glance between them, feeling a little lost. “I mean… I do like movies.”

Matt exhales sharply, running a hand down his face before placing it firmly on your lower back, actually touching you this time. “C’mon, angel. Let’s find our table.” His grip is gentle but insistent, steering you away before Jackson can say anything else.

As you walk away, you glance up at him. “That was kinda rude.”

Matt scoffs. “No, sweetheart. That was necessary.”

You frown but don’t push it, too distracted by the sight of the massive dessert table at the far end of the room. “Ooh! Can we get something sweet?”

His jaw clenches, but he nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Before you even make it halfway there, another one of your brother’s teammates- Tyler- sidles up beside you, grinning.

“Hey, Y/N,” he drawls, eyes trailing over your dress in a way that makes Matt’s fingers twitch against your back. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.”

“My daddy let me come,” you say cheerfully. “It’s so fun! I didn’t know it’d be this fancy.”

Tyler smirks. “Your daddy, huh? You look real good all dressed up. Bet you’ve got guys falling all over you tonight.”

You blink. “Huh? Oh no, I just came with Matt and my brother.”

Matt sighs, long and slow. “Yeah, and she’s leaving with us too. Right, sweetheart?”

You nod, completely missing the way Matt glares daggers at Tyler. “Yep! Daddy said I had to go home when they do.”

Tyler chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s a shame. If you ever wanna have a little fun after curfew, you know who to call.”

You tilt your head. “Fun? Like… Games or…?”

Tyler lets out a loud laugh, but before he can respond, Matt steps in front of you completely, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Walk away, Tyler.”

Tyler holds his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning. “Relax, man. Just messing around.”

Matt doesn’t budge. Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t blink.

Tyler’s grin fades slightly before he turns and disappears back into the crowd.

You tug on Matt’s sleeve, pouting. “Why are you being so mean tonight?”

Matt exhales through his nose, looking down at you with something unreadable in his expression. “I’m not being mean, angel. Just looking out for you.”

You huff but let it go when you finally reach the dessert table, distracted by a chocolate fountain. “Oh my gosh! Look at this!”

Matt watches as you grab a skewer and dip a marshmallow into the melted chocolate, completely oblivious to the attention you’re getting from half the room.

His jaw tenses as he glances around, making sure no one else even thinks about coming near you.

Your brother would kill him if he knew how he was feeling right now. But as you happily hum while licking melted chocolate from your fingers, utterly unaware of the way his entire body is locked up with restraint- Matt knows he’s in trouble.

Big, big trouble.

The banquet is in full swing as the night goes on, the energy in the room buzzing with excitement as awards are handed out. Your brother wins MVP, grinning as he walks up to accept his plaque, you and the rest of the crowd erupting in applause. Matt wins Best Defensive Player, and when his name is called, you clap so enthusiastically that he shoots you a look- amused but slightly exasperated.

“Calm down, angel,” he murmurs as he sits back down, placing his award on the table.

“I’m proud of you,” you say, grinning.

Matt shakes his head, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he nudges your knee under the table.

Throughout dinner, glasses of champagne are passed around, and even though Matt gives you a warning look, you take one anyway.

“It’s just one,” you assure him, lifting the flute to your lips.

“That’s not just one,” he mutters as you reach for another a little while later.

But you don’t listen. The bubbles tickle your throat, making you giggle, and before long, there’s a slight warmth settling over you, your limbs loosening, the room feeling lighter, happier.

Matt groans when you sip your third glass. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart.”

Your brother, too busy celebrating with his teammates, doesn’t even notice.

Matt does, though. Matt always notices.

By the time the banquet winds down, you’re giggling at everything, eyes bright as your dad rounds everyone up to leave.

The ride home is quiet, the hum of the car filling the space. Your dad drives, your brother is on your left, and Matt is on your right. Somehow, you’ve ended up in the middle seat, legs tucked under you, your body loose and relaxed from the champagne.

You lean against Matt’s shoulder, sighing dramatically. “M’so sleepy.”

Matt stiffens, his whole body going rigid.

“You shouldn’t have had all that champagne,” he murmurs, voice low, almost strained.

You ignore him, nuzzling into his arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “But it tasted so good.”

Your brother snorts. “You’re such a lightweight.”

You pout, shifting slightly, pressing even closer to Matt. You don’t realize what you’re doing, the way your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on his forearm, the way your cheek presses against the fabric of his jacket, how warm he is.

Matt notices.

His jaw is clenched so tight it aches. He keeps his hands firmly planted on his thighs, muscles tense as he stares straight ahead. You’re touching him like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t mean anything. But to him?

It means everything.

Your fingers graze his wrist, and he exhales through his nose, shifting slightly in his seat, trying to put some distance between you. But you just follow, draping an arm over his bicep, your cheek now resting against his shoulder.

“You smell so nice,” you sigh, voice hazy, drunk and sweet.

Matt swears under his breath.

Your brother doesn’t notice. He’s too busy scrolling through his phone, occasionally grumbling about some play he should’ve gotten more credit for.

But Matt? He’s suffering.

Because you’re all soft touches and sleepy sighs, completely unaware of the fact that every innocent little move you make is driving him insane.

You shift again, snuggling impossibly closer. “You’re so comfy, Matty.”

Matt groans so quietly only you hear it. “Jesus.”

You blink up at him, bleary-eyed. “Hmm?”

“Nothing.” His voice is tight.

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder again, your fingers still tracing those mindless little patterns on his arm. “You’re so nice to me.”

Matt closes his eyes briefly, inhaling sharply through his nose.

If only you knew.

When you get home, the house is quiet, the air thick with the lingering chill of the winter night. Your dad mutters something about heading to bed, your brother and Matt trudging up the stairs after him.

You follow, still tipsy, still warm from the champagne, your limbs loose and slow as you move.

Matt is staying over, just like he always does after big game nights or events. He and your brother disappear into his room while you shuffle to yours, sighing as you peel off your dress, trading it for an oversized t-shirt- one that falls mid-thigh, barely covering your underwear. You tug on a pair of thigh-high socks, cozying up against the cold air before slipping on your blue light glasses, needing something to steady your still-spinning vision.

You head to the bathroom, flipping on the light, humming softly as you brush your teeth.

The door creaks open, and Matt steps in, rubbing his face tiredly before freezing in place when he sees you.

His eyes sweep over you, taking in your messy hair, the oversized tee hanging off your frame, the way your socks cling to your thighs. His jaw ticks, but he says nothing, just clears his throat before stepping toward the sink.

“Didn’t know you were in here,” he murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion- or maybe something else.

You shrug, toothpaste foaming at the corners of your mouth. “S’okay. I don’t mind.”

Matt huffs a quiet laugh, turning on the faucet to wash his hands. “You should be in bed, angel.”

You lean against the counter, tilting your head. “Matt?”

He grabs a towel, drying his hands before meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah?”

You blink at him, expression slightly dazed. “Why were all those guys acting weird tonight?”

He stiffens slightly. “Weird how?”

You frown, thinking. “Like… they kept talking to me. Saying things that didn’t make sense.” You pause, then look up at him, brows furrowed. “What did they want?”

Matt exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “They were flirting with you, sweetheart. They thought you were pretty.”

Your nose scrunches. “Oh.” You tilt your head. “But you flirt with me too, right?”

His fingers flex against the counter. “Not like they do.”

You narrow your eyes. “You think I’m pretty too, right?”

Matt lets out a slow breath, gripping the edge of the sink. “Yeah, angel,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “I do.”

You blink, processing. “Then why does it matter?”

Matt turns, leaning back against the counter, arms crossing over his broad chest. His gaze is steady, dark in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

“Because they don’t just think you’re pretty,” he says carefully. “They want to sleep with you.”

You stare, heart skipping. “Oh.”

Matt watches your expression shift, your lips part slightly as realization starts to settle.

“They-” You swallow. “They wanted to… have sex with me?”

His jaw tightens. “Yeah, angel. That’s what they wanted.”

Your cheeks burn instantly, your fingers gripping the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “Oh.”

Matt studies you, the way your breath hitches slightly, the way your eyes flicker down before snapping back up.

“You really didn’t know?” he asks, voice gentler now.

You shake your head quickly. “No, I- I just thought they were being nice.”

Matt exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”

Your fingers fidget with the fabric of your shirt, your face still warm. “I didn’t- ” You hesitate. “I don’t really… talk about this kind of stuff.”

“I know.” His voice is soft, understanding.

You shift on your feet, gnawing at your lower lip. “I mean… I know what it is. But I don’t-” You trail off, exhaling sharply. “I don’t get it.”

Matt tilts his head slightly, his gaze heavy but patient. “What don’t you get?”

You chew on your lip again, hesitating before blurting, “Why do they want to?”

Matt blinks. “What?”

You huff, flustered now. “Like… why do guys want to do that so much? I don’t get it.”

Matt runs a hand down his face, clearly trying to stay composed. “Because it feels good.”

You inhale sharply, your face burning hotter. “Oh.”

Your heart stammers in your chest, something thick and unfamiliar sitting heavy in the space between you.

You grip the counter. “Have you…” You hesitate, then force the words out. “Have you done it?”

Matt’s lips twitch slightly, amused despite himself. “Yeah, sweetheart. I have.”

Your stomach flips, something strange curling in your gut. “Oh.”

He smirks. “That bother you?”

Your face flames. “N-no! I just-” You fumble, shaking your head quickly. “I just… I didn’t know.”

For a second, neither of you move. The space between you is thick with something you don’t quite understand, something unspoken but heavy. His gaze lingers, his expression unreadable, and it makes you fidget.

Your fingers play with the hem of your oversized t-shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. You don’t even realize that it hikes up slightly, exposing more of your bare thighs, the soft curve of them accentuated by your thigh-high socks. But Matt notices.

His eyes flicker down for the briefest second before snapping back up.

You hesitate, then softly say, “Matt?”

His jaw tenses. “Yeah?”

Your eyes stay fixed on the way your fingers pull at the fabric of your shirt. “Does it… really feel good?”

Matt’s breath is slow, measured. “Yeah, angel,” he murmurs. “It does.”

You shift on your feet, heat creeping up your neck. “Like… how?”

His lips part slightly, and for the first time tonight, he looks caught off guard. He drags a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose like he’s trying to gather himself.

“It’s- ” He stops, searching for the right words. “It’s different for everyone, but it’s… intense.”

You swallow, your fingers still gripping your shirt. “Intense how?”

His eyes darken slightly, his voice dropping a little lower. “It’s a kind of pressure. A build-up. And then… release.”

Your stomach flips, your whole body suddenly feeling too warm. “Oh.”

Matt watches you carefully, taking in the way your breath has gone a little shallower, the way your fingers fidget with your shirt again, lifting the fabric another inch before you even realize it. His eyes flicker down, then back up, something sharp flashing in them for a second before he schools his expression.

“Angel,” he says slowly. “You ever… thought about it before?”

You blink up at him, dazed. “Thought about what?”

His jaw clenches slightly. “Sex.”

Your breath catches, your entire body heating at the way the word rolls off his tongue so casually, like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t make your knees feel weak.

“I- ” You shift on your feet. “I mean, I know about it.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Matt murmurs.

You feel like your face is on fire. “I don’t- ” You bite your lip, exhaling shakily. “I don’t think so.”

Matt hums, tilting his head. “You don’t think so?”

You frown slightly, trying to collect your thoughts, but your mind is a mess, spinning, hazy from champagne and the weight of this conversation. “I just don’t really-” You shift again, your thighs pressing together instinctively. “I don’t get it.”

Matt watches the movement, his throat bobbing slightly before he lifts his gaze back to yours. “What don’t you get, angel?”

You hesitate, feeling impossibly small under his gaze. “Why people want it so much,” you admit, voice softer now, almost unsure.

Matt exhales slowly. “Because it feels good, sweetheart. It’s the closest you can get to someone. And when it’s with the right person…” He trails off for a second, then looks at you intently. “It’s really good.”

You shiver, despite the heat curling in your stomach. “What does it feel like?”

Matt’s fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to do something with them but won’t let himself.

“You really wanna know?” he asks, voice lower now, rougher.

You nod, swallowing hard.

He leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “It starts slow,” he murmurs. “Your body gets all warm, all needy.” His eyes flicker down to the way you’re fidgeting with your shirt, how your thighs shift slightly where you stand. “You feel it everywhere. The pressure, the tension. And then when you finally get what you need-” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “It’s like relief. Like every nerve in your body is completely relaxed all at once.”

You stare at him, heart hammering, your fingers tightening on your shirt as you shift again, a deep, unfamiliar heat curling in your stomach.

Matt notices. Of course he notices.

He tilts his head slightly. “You ever been kissed before, angel?”

Your breath hitches. “What?”

His lips twitch slightly, but his expression remains unreadable. “You heard me.”

Your cheeks burn. “I- I mean, yeah.”

His gaze sharpens. “Yeah?”

You swallow hard. “Once.”

Matt hums, like he’s not entirely convinced. “And did you feel anything?”

Your stomach twists. “I… I don’t know.”

His jaw clenches slightly. “If you don’t know,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, rougher, “then the answer is no.”

You press your thighs together again, your whole body suddenly feeling strange, tingly, like your skin is too tight. “Oh.”

Matt’s gaze doesn’t waver, dark and knowing, like he’s seeing right through you.

“You’re feeling it now, aren’t you?”

Your breath catches. “W-what?”

He exhales through his nose, his voice dropping lower, slower. “The first part.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes dragging over you. “Warm and needy.”

Your pulse pounds in your ears. “I- I don’t- ” You shake your head quickly, even as your skin burns, your thighs press together again, your grip on your shirt tightening.

Matt takes a slow step toward you, his presence impossibly big in the small bathroom. “You are feeling it,” he murmurs, eyes locked onto yours. “Aren’t you, angel?”

Your mouth opens, then closes, your face scorching hot. “How can you tell?” you whisper.

He smirks, slow and lazy, but his voice is still rough, still tight. “You’re not exactly subtle about it.”

Your breath stutters as realization hits you.

Your thighs- pressed together.

Your fingers- clutching at your shirt, pulling it tighter, twisting the fabric.

Your breathing- short, shallow.

You feel like your body isn’t your own, like every nerve is suddenly hyperaware of the space between you and Matt, the way he’s looking at you, the way you can feel the heat radiating off of him even though he’s still an arm’s length away.

He takes another step closer.

Your stomach flips, your heartbeat a frantic staccato against your ribs.

His voice is lower now, softer, but it makes your entire body tingle. “Where are you feeling it?”

Your throat dries. “What?”

His gaze flickers down, then back up. “Where do you feel it the most, angel?”

You swear the air in the room disappears. Your skin prickles with heat, embarrassment flooding you so fast that you physically shrink back.

“I- I…” Your voice barely works, breathy and unsure.

Matt hums, his eyes flickering over you again, watching the way your fingers still grip your shirt, how your weight shifts between your legs.

You do feel it. Everywhere.

Your cheeks burn hotter, your head spinning. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to say.

Matt watches you, his expression unreadable, his body still tense. His eyes flicker over your flushed skin, the way you’re gripping the hem of your oversized t-shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. He exhales slowly, shaking his head slightly before tilting it, his voice dropping back to something softer, more careful.

“Tell me about that kiss you had.”

You blink up at him, still flustered, your brain barely catching up. “What?”

“The one you said you had. The only one.”

You shift uncomfortably. “I- uh. What about it?”

Matt’s gaze sharpens. “How did he touch you?”

Your stomach flips. “Touch me?”

He nods once. “Yeah. His hands. Where were they?”

You frown slightly, thinking back, but there’s nothing to think about. “He… didn’t.”

Matt’s brows lift slightly. “Didn’t?”

You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed now. “I mean… he just kissed me. That’s it.”

Matt’s jaw ticks, his fingers flexing against the edge of the counter. “How long?”

You swallow. “Like… a second? Maybe two?”

Matt exhales sharply, shaking his head. “And what did it feel like?”

You bite your lip, thinking. “Nothing.”

Matt’s lips press into a thin line. “Nothing?”

You shrug. “I mean… it was just… a kiss.”

Matt takes another slow step toward you, his voice quieter now, rougher. “That’s not what it’s supposed to feel like, angel.”

Your breath catches, your fingers twitching against the hem of your shirt. You look up at him now, the air between you impossibly thick.

“…Then what is it supposed to feel like?”

Matt scans your body, his gaze dragging from the top of your head down the length of your frame- your messy hair, your parted lips, your bare thighs still pressed together slightly. He glances toward the open bathroom door, his jaw tightening before he reaches out, gripping the handle and slowly pushing it shut.

The click of the latch echoes in the silence.

When he turns back to you, his expression is darker now, his voice impossibly low.

“That warm and needy feeling?” His eyes lock onto yours, steady and intense. “It should feel like it’s on fire.”

Your stomach flips violently. “What do you mean?”

Matt steps closer, towering over you, his scent wrapping around you like something heavy and intoxicating. He leans down, just enough for his breath to brush against your lips.

“Like this.”

And then he kisses you.

It’s slow and intentional. His lips press against yours softly at first, like he’s giving you a chance to process, to pull away if you want to. But you don’t.

You can’t.

The second your breath hitches, he deepens it, his hand lifting just slightly like he wants to touch you but stops himself. His lips move against yours, slow and deliberate, and warmth spreads through your entire body. It’s thick and pulsing and burning.

Your fingers tremble as they clutch your t-shirt, your body melting before you even realize it. This is different. This is new.

This is what he meant.

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless, dazed, your lips tingling from the weight of his touch. Your wide eyes meet his, your heart slamming against your ribs.

“…Oh.”

Matt’s jaw is tight, his breathing slow, controlled. His hand twitches at his side like he’s restraining himself, his eyes searching yours.

“Now tell me, angel,” his voice is rough, nearly a whisper.

“Did that feel like nothing?”

You swallow hard, shaking your head slowly. “…No.”

Matt’s lips twitch, his gaze darkening slightly. “Where did you feel it?”

You shift on your feet, feeling impossibly small under his stare. “I- I don’t know.”

Matt hums, stepping closer. “No?” His hands lift, slow, careful, fingertips ghosting over your cheeks as he cups your face gently. His thumbs brush against your skin, warm and grounding. “Did you feel it here?”

You inhale sharply, lips parting slightly, but shake your head. “Not… really.”

His hands move down, skimming over your shoulders, gripping them lightly. “Here?”

You shake your head again, heart pounding.

His hands trail lower, skimming down your arms, barely touching you. You shiver, exhaling shakily, but still, you shake your head.

Matt watches you, his movements slow, deliberate, as his palms skim over your waist, his thumbs pressing lightly into the soft curve of your stomach.

Your breath stutters.

His hands move lower.

Your fingers twitch against the hem of your oversized t-shirt as he settles them just above your hips, his touch firm, grounding. “What about here?”

You swallow, feeling lightheaded, but shake your head again.

And then his hands drift lower, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your lower stomach, right above where that deep, pulsing warmth sits heavy between your thighs.

Your body stiffens. Your breath catches.

Matt’s lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, watching, waiting.

You nod, the smallest movement, barely even noticeable.

But he notices.

“Yeah?” His voice is softer now, rougher. “What’s it feel like, angel?”

Your thighs squeeze together instinctively, your skin burning under his touch. “I don’t know,” you stammer, breathless.

Matt hums, his thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin. “You sure?”

You nod quickly, but your body betrays you, shifting slightly into his touch.

Matt’s lips twitch again, something knowing behind his dark gaze as his hands slide down, fingertips trailing over the tops of your thighs before dragging back up, slow, teasing.

You shudder.

“Does it feel like a pulse?” he murmurs. “Like a throb?” His fingers trace the sensitive skin just above your knee, then glide up, his palms warm as they press lightly into the soft flesh of your thighs. “Almost a little wet?”

Your entire body jerks slightly, heat flooding your face, your stomach twisting violently in the most delicious way.

“Matt,” you whisper, mortified, shaking your head quickly.

His hands squeeze your thighs gently. “Hmm?”

You shake your head harder, but your body is betraying you again, shifting into his touch, your knees wobbling slightly as warmth pools deep in your core.

Matt watches you, eyes dark and knowing. Then, after a beat, he pulls his hands away, stepping back slightly.

Your body feels cold without his touch.

His gaze lingers on you, studying every little movement, every breath, every tremble. Then he asks, “Do you like that feeling?”

You hesitate, lips parting, but finally, finally, you nod.

Matt exhales slowly, his jaw tight, his hands flexing at his sides before his lips twitch into something almost smug. “It can feel even better.”

Your breath catches. “It… gets better?”

Matt chuckles, low and deep, shaking his head slightly. “So innocent,” he murmurs.

You frown slightly, embarrassed, shifting on your feet again.

But then his hand lifts again, fingertips brushing against your cheek before sliding into your hair, tilting your chin up slightly.

His gaze flickers over you, slow, measured.

And then he whispers, “Wanna see?”

Your breath stutters. Your pulse pounds. Your stomach twists in the most confusing, exhilarating way.

And then before you can even think- you nod.

Matt doesn’t hesitate.

His lips crash against yours, hotter this time, hungrier. His hands cup your face, tilting you exactly where he wants you as his mouth moves against yours, coaxing you into something deeper, something that makes that pulsing heat between your thighs turn into something more. It turns into something desperate, something dangerous.

Your fingers lift, gripping onto his shirt, needing something to hold onto as your legs feel weak beneath you.

He deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer, his hands firm as they slide from your face down to your waist, gripping you like he doesn’t want to let go. His lips are hot, insistent, moving against yours in a way that makes your head spin, your entire body buzzing with arousal.

His hands tighten around your waist, and before you can even register what’s happening, he lifts you effortlessly, gripping the backs of your thighs and setting you onto the cool bathroom counter. The contrast between the cold surface and his warm touch makes you shiver, your legs instinctively parting just enough for him to step between them.

And then- asound escapes your throat.

It’s soft, barely there. Nothing but a breathy little whimper as he tugs you closer, his hands gripping your thighs.

But it’s enough.

Your entire body locks up as realization sinks in, heat rushing to your face as you abruptly pull away, eyes wide with embarrassment. “I- I didn’t mean to-”

Matt’s breathing is heavy, his lips swollen from kissing you, but his eyes- his eyes are dark, focused, hungry.

He tilts his head, his hands still holding you firmly in place. “It’s normal, angel,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly low, deep enough to send shivers down your spine.

You swallow hard, still mortified. “But-”

He shakes his head, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your thigh. “It just means you like it,” he explains, his voice warm, coaxing. “Means it feels good.”

You shift, heat curling in your stomach again. “Still-”

“And it makes me feel good too.”

Your breath catches.

Matt’s eyes flicker over your face, his expression unreadable for a moment before he adds, “Makes me feel warm and needy, just like you.”

Your stomach flips, your fingers tightening against the edge of the counter.

Your voice is quieter now, unsure. “Then… why don’t you make any sounds?”

Matt stills, his lips twitching slightly, but it’s not amusement- it’s something else. His fingers flex against your thighs before dragging slowly up, fingertips pressing lightly into the fabric of your oversized t-shirt, tracing just under the hem.

He leans in, so close that his lips ghost against yours when he speaks.

“You want me to?”

Your pulse stutters.

You should probably say no.

But you don’t.

Instead, you nod.

Matt exhales through his nose, his smirk finally breaking through. “Yeah?”

You nod again, slower this time.

His hands slide up, gripping your waist, and then he kisses you again.

But this time, it’s different.

It’s slower and deeper. His tongue tracing against yours in a way that makes your head spin, your body arching slightly toward him before you even realize you’re doing it. His hands slide over your thighs, gripping them, pulling you forward until your legs wrap loosely around his waist.

A low sound rumbles from the back of his throat.

It’s quiet, but it’s there, vibrating against your lips, making your stomach flip and your entire body heat.

You gasp softly, your fingers gripping his shirt as the sound sends something dangerous pulsing between your thighs.

Matt must notice, because he groans again, this time a little louder, his hands tightening on your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin like he’s holding himself back.

The tension is unbearable now, your skin hot, your breaths short, every little movement making your head spin.

His hands gripped you tight, pulling you flush against him. His fingers trace slow, teasing patterns against your thighs, sending shivers up your spine. Your entire body is warm, buzzing, that unfamiliar but intoxicating feeling creeping higher and higher until a soft, breathy moan slips past your lips.

Matt freezes for a fraction of a second, his entire body tensing like a live wire, his hands gripping you tighter. And then he groans, deep and low, like the sound did something to him, like he needed to hear it.

His hands move before he can stop himself, sliding up your sides, fingertips teasing beneath the hem of your oversized t-shirt, skimming your bare skin as he pushes the fabric up, his palms warm and making you skin tingle in ways you’ve never imagined were possible.

A sudden, sharp knock on the door.

You barely stifle a yelp, but Matt is quicker.

His palm immediately covers your mouth, his other hand gripping your hip as he tenses, his head snapping toward the door. His light eyes flicker back to yours, and he puts a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to stay quiet.

Your heart is pounding.

“Yo, Matt,” your brother’s voice comes from the other side of the door. “You seen my sister? She left her laundry downstairs, and it’s hogging the dryer.”

Matt exhales slowly, his hand still over your mouth as he tilts his head toward the door, his voice calm, casual, like he hasn’t just had his hands all over you.

“Nah, dude. No idea where she is.”

The doorknob rattles.

You flinch.

Matt’s grip tightens on you instinctively, his hand pressing a little firmer against your mouth, his other hand flexing against your waist.

Your brother sighs. “Bro, unlock the door. I gotta brush my teeth.”

Matt’s jaw clenches, his eyes locking onto yours, something sharp flashing behind them before he whispers, so low you can barely hear it-

“Fuck.”

For a split second, you don’t know what he’s going to do.

Then, without hesitation, he lifts you again, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, and moves.

You barely have time to process before he’s setting you down into the bathtub, your back pressing against the cool surface. He leans in close, eyes serious, his hand brushing over your cheek for just a second.

“Stay quiet,” he whispers.

You nod quickly, heart hammering.

Matt exhales sharply, stepping back, adjusting himself. You blink, watching as he tugs his waistband up, shifting awkwardly, like he’s hiding something.

Your brows furrow slightly. “What are you-”

Matt immediately puts a finger to his lips again, shaking his head. “Shh.”

You shut your mouth, still confused, still burning from everything that just happened.

Before you can think too hard about it, Matt pulls the shower curtain closed, hiding you from view just as he unlocks the door and swings it open.

Your brother steps in, rubbing his face tiredly. “Dude, what took you so long?”

Matt shrugs, leaning casually against the sink, like he hasn’t just shoved you into the bathtub to keep you hidden. “Was taking a piss.”

Your brother makes a face. “Long ass piss bro.”

Matt just smirks, crossing his arms, his body perfectly positioned to block any possible view of the tub. “Long ass piss for a long ass dick, what can I say.”

Your brother rolls his eyes, grabbing his toothbrush. “Whatever.”

You hold your breath, praying he doesn’t notice anything, praying he doesn’t hear the way your breathing is still uneven, the way your body is still buzzing from Matt’s touch.

Matt’s hand twitches against the sink, his knuckles flexing. His jaw is tight, his body still tense. Like he’s just barely keeping himself under control.

After a few minutes of tense silence, the sound of running water and your brother brushing his teeth fills the room. You stay completely still in the tub, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from making a sound, even though your heart is still racing from what had just happened.

Finally, your brother spits into the sink, wipes his mouth, and mutters, “Alright, I’m going to my room.”

Matt doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I’m just gonna wash my face, I’ll meet you there.”

Your brother hums in response, the bathroom door creaking as he steps out. The moment you hear his footsteps retreating down the hall, Matt quickly shuts the door, locking it again before exhaling heavily. His shoulders relax slightly as he pulls back the shower curtain, his gaze landing on you, still curled up in the bathtub.

“Alright he’s gone.” he murmurs, stepping forward and reaching for you.

You let out a breath, still a little dazed as his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly. He sets you back down, steadying you on your feet before his hands settle on your waist.

You look up at him, eyes wide. “Oh my God.”

Matt chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “Relax, angel. He had no clue.”

You exhale shakily, running your hands through your hair. The room is still heavy with everything that had happened, and while part of you is still flustered and embarrassed, the other part- the part that’s still warm, still needy- doesn’t want the moment to be over.

Matt watches you carefully, and for a second, you think he’s going to lean in again, that he’s going to pick up where you left off. But then, he sighs, smoothing his hands over your sides.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “We can’t go further right now. Your brother’s waiting for me, and he’s still looking for you.”

You sigh, deflating a little. You know he’s right, but still, the heat swirling in your stomach doesn’t quite go away. “Okay,” you mumble, chewing on your lip.

There’s a brief pause before something else pops into your head, something you don’t quite understand. “Matt?”

He tilts his head slightly. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, shifting on your feet. “What were you… doing? With your… you know…?”

Matt blinks, then raises an eyebrow. “My cock?” he asks bluntly.

Your entire face burns. “Matt!”

He smirks at your reaction, but instead of answering immediately, he reaches down, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants. You watch confused until he untucks himself, and suddenly, the thick outline of him is tenting out his grey sweatpants prominently.

Your breath catches in your throat.

You stare.

It’s… big.

Your fingers twitch at your sides, a deep, unfamiliar curiosity curling in your stomach. Without even thinking, your hand twitches forward slightly before you stop yourself at the last second, pulling your hand back quickly.

“Sorry,” you blurt out, embarrassed.

But Matt shakes his head immediately, stepping closer. “No, sweetheart. Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, coaxing. “Please do.”

Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest.

“It’ll make me feel good,” he adds, his eyes locked onto yours.

You swallow hard, hesitating just a moment longer before you slowly reach forward again, your fingers lightly wrapping around him through the fabric.

Matt exhales sharply, his head tilting back slightly. “Fuuuck,” he mutters under his breath.

Your fingers tighten slightly, gripping him a little more firmly.

His hands flex at his sides before one of them lifts to grip the counter. “This,” he breathes out, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, “this is another way of knowing that I like it.”

You stare at him, your breath short and quick. “I did this to you?” you whisper.

Matt groans quietly, nodding. “Yeah, angel.”

You blink, still gripping him through his sweatpants, still feeling the heat of him against your palm. You squeeze slightly, watching as his jaw tenses, his breath stuttering.

Your voice is quieter now. “Is it like… how i feel…wet?”

Matt exhales, his fingers twitching against the counter. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Just like that. When you get wet, my dick gets hard.”

Your cheeks burn. “Why does it do that?”

Matt leans in then, his breath warm against your ear, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s your body getting ready for me to be inside you.”

Your entire body locks up, heat flooding your core so intensely that your thighs press together on instinct. Your fingers twitch around him, squeezing his clothed length a little harder.

Matt groans, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath ragged.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice strained, “I’m gonna cum if you do that. You’re making me crazy.”

You freeze. “Wait- what?”

Matt lifts his head, exhaling heavily before he leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll explain to you another time,” he murmurs. “But for now? Get to bed.”

You nod slowly, still reeling, still confused, still burning. “When will you show me?”

Matt smirks as he watches you hesitate, his voice softer now as he nudges you toward the door.

“Whenever you earn it.”

PT.2 HERE💙

MASTERLIST

for @mattsobvimyfav

tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt (if u wanna be on the taglist, just comment)

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

masterlist.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

title from ‘under your spell’ by snow strippers, everytime I see an edit to him with this song it always eats so hard

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[thedas-elf-lover]

A slightly deranged review from a long time Dragon Age fan.

What this game promised to be in terms of a Dragon Age game: - Most romantic - Offer a few key world state choices that would have great plot impact, which emphasis on wanting to give players choices that have a visual impact, not just codex. - The most complex, deep companions yet. - Choices that matter.

What I got: [SPOILERS] - The shortest, chastest romances I've ever seen, where the end goal is quite literally sex. The final romance scene is the sex scene, after you've been locked in for some time. No sex before marriage, lol. Even the shortest romance in DAI is longer than the longest romance in this game. It's probably the least sex positive game out of them all. - The only choice that has visual impact is the Solas option, and even that doesn't really give anything major. Solas has maybe one unique line? Otherwise, there is no major change. The other two choices (Did you disband the Inquisition? Did you vow to save or stop Solas?) have no difference, either. It's a matter of do you want your Inquisitor to say "comrade" or "friend." The Inquisition doesn't matter. The South gets nuked off-screen anyway. In codex. So two of the three world state choices we get are mostly represented in codexes anyway. - I have nothing against the companions in Veilguard, but to call them the most complex is somewhat... false. Solas is a complex character. Thom Ranier is complex. Vivienne de Fer is complex. Fenris, Anders, Merrill, Isabela, Morrigan, and Sten are complex characters. They are characters who contain complexities that are not easily swept away. ALL the Veilguard companions are your next door neighbors. They're normal. There's nothing wrong about that, but they don't challenge you. There's nothing to think about. Lucanis isn't going to make you seriously consider your morality, despite being the "prince" of the Crows - hired killers. Neve's standing and possible privilege as a human mage in a magocracy is never commented on. These are just two examples, but the same applies for the rest of the companions. None of them are HIDING anything. I will reiterate that there's not anything necessarily WRONG with that, but it does mean they lack the flare of drama that previous companions had that made them brain-scratchers. - Choices don't matter. No matter what Rook does or says, you're railroaded into a scrappy, heroic person who is always right. The worst thing you can do in this game is just NOT do the companion quests. - Despite being a RPG, there is no roleplaying. It's more action/adventure. But it gets a little slow in places for an action/adventure. And it doesn't have enough roleplay value to be a satisfying RPG. - Pretty much the only reason I can see replaying this game is to see the opposite city routes. You don't have to finish the game to get the full romance, either. - No lore continuity. Elves, qunari, dwarves, and humans just living in peace in Tevinter. Some fantasy where poor communities aren't racist doesn't explain this away. - Orientalism in Rivain? - Reducing what was originally a story about slave liberation and rebellion to "love and murder" over Solas' ex situationship. - The game can understand gender that exists outside a binary but somehow can't understand multiculturalism. - Why does Bellara, a Dalish elf, have white guilt?

Some disorganized additions:

- Tonal whiplash. You go from losing a supposedly beloved companion to the final romance scene (the sex scene) in the space of 5 second. - You can't speak to your companions outside cutscenes. However, you can go around the Lighthouse snooping on your companions having nice conversations amongst themselves. - Not a SINGLE companion bothers to check in on the PC even once. You played as a Grey Warden who lost Weisshaupt? No one cares. Emmrich will check in on Davrin but not you. The only point in the game where they show even a smidgeon of care for you is after the Regret Prison, but they don't actually show it. You're pulled out and it immediately cuts to a war table scene. No emotional reunions. - This is Found Family - but only for the companions. Bellara has the opportunity to see Neve as a sister figure, but not you. This could roll into the lack of roleplay value in this game, but it really adds to the lonely element of this game. - "Okay guys, we lost the big game. Let's all take a step back and do some self-care exercises." But the game is Weisshaupt and the South is getting nuked. - Characters often feel like caricatures of themselves. Oftentimes this game feels like a fanfiction of the story and characters it's representing. Some of the things the characters say are not things that normal people would say. Because Rook never builds more than an entirely superficial relationship with their coworkers, it's entirely believable that the most moving thing Rook can think to say, whenever the obligatory Sad Moment happens to a companion, is "[Insert Name Here], I'm so sorry." - You could replace the Inquisitior with a cardboard cut out and it would have more life. - We already had a story about a disapproving parent who is hurtful to their queer child with Dorian. There was a missed opportunity with Shathann to explore the Qunari's view on gender, but only the Tevinter characters are allowed to talk to Taash about different gender identities. When Shathann talks about qunari gender identity, it's oppression. This game's handle on cultural identity is awful. And then they fridged Shathann. - Did you know Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, the ancient elven gods (we won't say Evanuris even though that's shorter and more believable to Andrastians who might balk at the idea of ELVEN gods), have escaped from their prison and are blighting the world? The elven gods escaped and they're blighting the world, because they're blighted and escaped prison and are elven gods and are blighting the world, Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, those gods, who are elven, and escaped and are blighting the world. - This game is Young Adult. This game is YA with all the darker, grittier elements from the previous game filed away, presented as "politically correct" with "ethical piracy" with no continuity in characterization because Isabela Dragon Age 2 would NOT say any of that. It's if Genshin Impact was a Dragon Age game, complete with the canned body language (cross arms). - The villains are one-dimensional. Aelia's "Minrathous dark truth" AKA Batman villain, Butcher dies after 1 moment of glory, the Dragon King is nothing sauce, if Elgar'nan was just a little bit more intelligent he'd have just smashed that moon into Thedas and called it a day, Illario's speech is ripped right from the Lion King. Gone are the days where antagonists had complex reasons for their actions. Gone are the days where characters were put into situations were there was NO good choice for them to make and we could judge them with the nuance they deserved. - Also did you know: Whatever it takes?

On the bright side, the CC is great.

[mi55delulu]

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

[cheetabites]

☆彡 cinnamon ˳༄꠶

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for dae-ho

sfw headcannons

★ this sweet boy truly struggles internally with how to act within society. the toxic masculinity his father had pushed on him had left him ashamed to truly express himself with others; he isn’t happy with how society wants men to act in such a superior and oppressive way, but is still sensitive to people catching eye of him acting in the opposite way (sensitive and compassionate)

★ he also didn’t receive any counseling or therapy after returning from the marines because he still held the internal belief that being vulnerable and expressing his difficulties wasn’t ‘manly’ enough

★ he’s the type of man that’ll help an old person cross the street, give his last dollar to a person at the register that was one dollar short, and would bring a jar of nuts to the park just incase he sees squirrels

★ he might’ve not received any professional help, but his mom and his older sisters were always there for him; when his father wasn’t around i’d like to picture them taking him out so they could play the games they played when they were younger - gonggi in particular because he liked to prove that ‘he still got it’

★ he’s the best pet owner ever. in some ways i can picture him having one pet that the whole family loves and spoils - yes, they wear the little sweaters when it’s cold and the boots when the pavement is hot - or a random ass pet he adores and the family is grossed out by. i can picture one of his friends gifting him a pet rat or turtle as a joke, but he takes it seriously (#1 dad) ; he vents to them sometimes

nsfw headcannons

★ sexual encounters is not a place where he’ll allow his fathers toxic masculinity to dictate his actions; he’s definitely a sub. when he’d found it out though, he was ashamed. particularly because it was when he was having sex with another partner - he was on top yes, but the ecstasy he was feeling at the time caused him to look down at them and beg for them to praise him (they did, and he cried in their neck afterwards)

★ he’s really sensitive, and i mean so sensitive that you could probably overstimulate him if you’d made him cum more than twice

★ he likes having his hair tugged; especially in situations where you brush your fingers through his hair first before gripping onto it so you can direct his gaze towards your own or when he’s giving you head

★ he enjoys the sex, yes. but he enjoys the aftercare more; having you wipe him down while you praise him for how good he was makes him feel so safe. he also seems like one who gets really sleepy after sex so i don’t think you’ll be able to make it to the bath. but when you do, he gets really shy and flustered

★ he loves seeing you wear the lingerie sets you’d bought while you were out. it gets him hard yes, but he mostly just admires how it enhances your beauty, so you’d never really had sex with them on. he does have a polaroid picture of you wearing a piece in his wallet and he protects that picture with his life - and i mean he’d lay flat on the train tracks if he’d ever lost it cause he cares about you too much :(

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.