#not confident in this post at all really...

[caseuoiseau]

Please allow me to jump in with a 4th point, because I learned a lot of different fiber arts and craft stuff as a kid, and when you're a kid you tend not to care as much about your lumpy first project because every first thing you've ever done to date has been lumpy, and you tend to lack a general idea of what failure is and focus on the "Yey-I-did-it!"

But the first craft I tried as an adult was spinning, which had the triple threat horrors of being:

a) ...thoroughly unlike any other fiber craft I had ever done, despite being integral to each one (sewing, knitting, crochet--all require fiber to be spun before anything else can be done).

b) ...the first skill I had to pay my own hard-earned, fresh-out-of-college pennies to learn, and

c) ...another one of those things like playing guitar where everyone else before me had decided that the difficult part to be managed by your dominant hand was actually the complete opposite of what I thought.

So my one or two private lessons didn't amount to anything remotely usable, until a few years later when some big-name blogger started posting her spinning. And I got pissed off because I took one look at it and I thought to myself "That's barely better than mine was, and she's getting all these accolades from her followers??? I bet I could spin yarn like that with my shitty wooden-toy-wheel spindle." And man oh man didni sit down and spin.

Now, I didn't start writing this story to tell you that Spite Will Fuel You To Perfection, so don't get ahead of me. Because my fiber had been compacted over the years and I was over-twisting it and I didn't technically understand that "single ply" doesn't actually work with handspun, and I wound up making some pretty wretched curly rope. Totally unusable. But it was the age of LJ, and I nevertheless showed my craft friends my awful attempt so they could have a good laugh at it, and that's where I got the actual best advice I've received as an adult learning a craft.

My friends who spin simply told me to save it. Hold on to that yarn-that's-barely-yarn, put it in a drawer somewhere and just...check in on it from time to time. Because every time you spin, you get a little bit better at it, and it really, really helps soothe your mind to take a look at that first project when you think you haven't improved.

And my next yarn--arguably a bulky two-ply from some high-micron Shetland, still iloverspun and the texture of rope, but definitely more yarnlike. The next was a very uneven two-ply made by plying merino pencil roving back on itself. Overspun in places, but much more reasonable as handspun--if I'd told someone it was supposed to look like that with a sufficiently confident tone, they would have bought it. That was the first handspum that actually became something:

A little tea cozy that I had to alter pretty spectacularly, since I had only spun about 90 yards out of the 50g I had.

And so it goes, each project getting a little bit better than the last, and noticeably better than the first. I either threw out that yarn or I have it packed away in the attic somewhere, but I used to bring that out at the end of my first night of the drop spindle basics class I used to teach. This is what I made first. These are the next three skeins I made. And here's my most recent.

It's a hell of a way to get people to think more fondly about the kitchen twine they think they've been fighting with for the last two hours.

So, to end with the advice I used to give my first-time knitting class: this isn't like being at work. You aren't expected to be an expert in something you learned 5 minutes ago. You have my permission to suck at this.

I hope all new fiber artists know that the "slightly misshapen" object they made that they're stressed about not looking good:

1. Happens to every fiber artist always, you're too zoomed in to its every detail because you're the one who made it and most people would think it looks normal, or at least much less misshapen than you do, stand 20ft away from it and look at it and then see how you feel (true about all art tbh)

2. Gets better and more uniform each time you do anything

and the *very most important*:

3. Can be made Significantly Less Misshapen by just grabbing the fabric and stretching it in a few directions

I keep helping new fiber artists who are like "but my thing looks so bad :(((" by like, taking their object and stretching it sideways and horizontal, and handing it back, and they're like "????? Magic?????" bc it looks perfect.

Trust the process. Trust the stretchy process

[juniperskye]

Come bother me, baby.

Based on the following post: Inspo  you are the bane of young Aaron's existence - back when he was just an agent under Gideon and Rossi. A pain in his ass…so when you transfer to avoid your feelings for him, he begs you to come back. Okay listen, I know that Hotch didn’t really work under Rossi in the beginning, as Rossi had already left…but we’re all gonna pretend for the sake of this fic. Also – Haley just never existed in this, and that’s ok.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 4164

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, female reader, she/her pronouns, age gap (Hotch is 28 and reader is 25), some explicit language, canon typical violence, mentions of case details, reader has experienced the loss of her parents, mention of holidays, mention of food/eating. Mention of reader being a mom, inaccurate timelines, let me know if I missed anything!!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

July 1993

The year was 1993, Jason Gideon and David Rossi were just granted permission to hire two agents to expand the team. They agreed that they would each pick an agent, that way there’d be no room to argue. They interviewed a total of 17 potential candidates, 13 of those were interviewed by Rossi and the other 4 by Gideon.

Aaron Hotchner had been the 7th file in Rossi’s stack, it was an impressive resume, one that was filled with cases he’d worked as a prosecutor, and then a number of cases he’d worked as a profiler in the Seattle Field office. He now was here in Quantico, Virginia, hoping to gain a spot on the BAU. To Rossi, Aaron had stood out amongst the others, he’d sat through all 13 interviews, and nobody could match the passion for this position like Aaron had. It had been an easy choice.

You had been the 2nd file in Gedeon’s stack, and honestly he’d been let down by his first candidate…so when you walked in, more than qualified for this position, he excused the other two candidates.  He didn’t feel the need to interview them, his gut told him you were the right choice. Your file had been padded with your numerous degrees varying from bachelor's degrees in psychology and criminology, to a master’s degree in forensic psychology, ending with a PhD in psychology. For the last year you’d been working in the Phoenix field office as a profiler. And while you didn’t have a ton of field experience, Gideon had been thoroughly impressed with your tenacity and overall enthusiasm for the profession.  

--

September 1993

Things had started off okay…mostly. Aaron definitely treated you like you were a child, though you were only three years younger than him. While you’d spent a lot of time expanding your knowledge of this field, Aaron had worked as a prosecutor immediately after his completion of law school. You weren’t sure why he thought he was so much better than you…you were a doctor after all.

It had started in the most dismissive way possible. You’d accidentally spilled your coffee at the round table, it had spread fast, covering his copy of the latest case file. You apologized immediately, offered him your copy while you went to print another. He shook his head at you, muttering something along the lines of you being young and unprofessional.

You had thought about going to Gideon to complain but ultimately decided against it. It would only make him see you as more of a child. So, you’d worked your ass off to prove yourself, you needed to show him that you were an asset to the BAU and not a liability.

--

May 1994

“I think this unsub is female.” You stated confidently.

“Are you insane?” Aaron scoffed.

“Before you completely dismiss me Hotch, hear me out.”

“Don’t call me that.” He hissed.

You had to physically wipe the smirk from your face before explaining your theory to the team. You’d pointed out how meticulous everything had been, how much care had gone into the murders and the disposals.

“If we really break everything down, it’s all done with so much care. The bodies haven’t just been dumped, they’ve been cleaned, redressed, and neatly placed in beautiful locations. The field of flowers, the hillside, by the art installation at the park.” You’d gestured to the photos pinned on the corkboard.

Looking around you could see the impressed look Gideon was wearing, it was bordering smug as he turned his gaze over to Rossi with a nod. Rossi couldn’t do anything other than shrug – you’d made a good point, who was he to question your expertise. But then there was Aaron…he was looking around in disbelief, nobody was even going to question it?

Aaron was pissed that you had been right. Three days after that briefing, you taken Helena Murphy into custody. She had lost her siblings in a car accident when she was in her teens, and a recent fender bender had been her trigger. She’d been taking the lives of young people who had resembled her siblings and laid them to rest somewhere beautiful…unlike the highway guardrail that had ultimately taken her family from her all those years ago.

Gideon and Rossi both gave you kudos for narrowing down the profile the way you had. The police officers at the Milwaukee PD had congratulated you and subsequently thanked you for your hard work. Aaron wouldn’t even look at you.

Needless to say, the flight home was tense.

--

August 1994

“Ugh it is soooo hot!” You whined, fanning yourself with a loose manila folder.

“Would you stop that?” Aaron asked.

“Stop what?” You feigned innocence.

“Bothering me! Your fanning is blowing all my papers around, just cut it out.” He huffed.

“Sure, thing Hotch.” You offered a sickly-sweet smile.

“Don’t call me that!” He shook his head and continued his report.

You stood from your desk and removed your blazer, showing off the fitted tank top you’d been wearing underneath. You made your way up to the kitchenette to retrieve some ice water and the ice pack from your lunchbox. At this point, you’d do anything to cool off.

You sat back down at your desk, sipping the water and crunching on the ice, while shifting the icepack from your chest to your neck. Aaron was so distracted by your constant moving that he had to speak up again. But as his gaze landed on you, he was rendered speechless…only for a moment, but it was enough time for him to notice the way the condensation from the icepack had dripped down your chest and when you slid it back to your neck, he could see the effect the could had on your breasts. His throat went dry.

“Stop messing around, it’s distracting.” He ordered.

“You’re no fun Hotch.”

“Would you just stop bothering me? You’re doing it on purpose now.” He sighed.

“Oh, fine.” You conceded.

--

November 1994

You made your way into the FBI building, hanging on one arm is your go bag, packed and ready to go. On the other arm is your purse, struggling to stay up on your shoulder as you held onto a basket filled with baked goods.

“Happy Holidays Jim!” You greeted, handing him a loaf of pumpkin bread.

“Thanks doll, you too! Did you get called in?” Jim, the head of security, asked.

“No, not yet anyway. I just figured I’d stop by.” You shrugged.

“You weren’t celebrating?” He questioned.

“Oh, um no, not this year.”

“Well doll, thanks for the pumpkin bread. Happy thanksgiving.” Jim smiled.

You made your way around, passing out different backed goods to people you saw every day, Maureen the receptionist, Mike from IT, and Sandra who was the director’s assistant. You’d even gone as far as bringing something for the BAU team members in the event that you did get called in.

Speaking of…

Gideon rushed into the bullpen of the sixth floor, in his haste he nearly missed the slight step down into the main section of the floor where your and Aaron’s desks sat. He was ferociously pressing the buttons on his pager – surely sending a page to the team informing them of the newest case.

Your suspicions were confirmed when yours beeped from your desk, drawing yours and Gideon’s attention.

“Jesus, I didn’t realize you were here. What are you doing here already?” Gideon asked.

“No reason to celebrate…I thought I could make myself useful here.” You shrugged and offered Gideon a container of gingersnaps.

“Thanks kid. Can you go get the files from Anderson?” Gideon requested.

“Of course, sir.”

Aaron arrived next; shock evident on his face when he saw you coming back from retrieving the files. He was about to make a snarky comment about you being here so early when Rossi came in behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

--

The four of you were on the plane heading to Oklahoma, you were seated next to Gideon, going over the file, passing theories back and forth. Aaron was sat next to Rossi, stewing in a feeling the bordered annoyance.

“I can feel the steam blowing out of your ears.” Rossi teased.

“Sorry I just don’t get it…she got there so fast. She just – she just bothers me.” Aaron huffed.

“She was already there kid, she was at the BAU before Gideon even got there, he told me.” Rossi explained.

“What do you mean she was already there? Why would she have been at the office already?”

“I assume to keep herself busy. She lost her parents when she was in college, so she doesn’t really have anyone to celebrate the holidays with. She brought everyone at the office treats.” Rossi smiled, popping another bite of his banana nut muffin into his mouth.

“I didn’t know. That’s uh-that’s…” Aaron didn’t quite know what to say.

“Check your bag Hotch.” Rossi smiled and went back to his file.

Placed neatly in the outer pocket of Aaron’s bag was a cellophane bag containing snickerdoodles, his favorite. A red ribbon tied the bag closed and attached to it was a small note…

Sorry for bothering you all the time. Hopefully these can make up for a little bit of it.

Aaron took a bit of one of the cookies., rolling his eyes because, of course, they were perfect. He couldn’t help but feel bothered by your inability to be bad at something.

--

February 1995

You hated valentine’s day, it had always been a sore spot, all your friends swooning over the overpriced chocolate and roses that their boyfriends would get them. Not you though, you hadn’t received a valentine since freshman year of high school when Mathew Smith taped a rose to your locker. Matt had been nice and all, but he was looking for something…unserious.

You got yourself dressed and dragged yourself to the BAU. Everyone was so chipper as you entered the building, greeting you…but you met the majority of them with a scowl. Stepping off the elevator and going over to your desk, surprise overcoming you as you’re met with peonies and a pack of razzles. You moved them around, trying to find the note, coming across a yellow sticky note.

I thought these could be repayment for the pens you got me for Christmas.    -Hotch

You smiled at the signature, he’d hated when you called him Hotch, you’d been the first to do so and he was annoyed at how unprofessional it had initially seemed, he’d tell you not to call him that and claim you bothered him on purpose, but as Rossi and Gideon joined in with the nickname, he slowly grew to like you…it!

Aaron sat at his desk, plopping into his chair with a sigh. Your gaze lifted to meet his, a timid smile gracing your features.

“Hotch”

“Don’t bother me today.”

“Thank you.” You smiled.

“Don’t mention it.”

--

May 1995

May and June had become your least favorite months of the year. After losing your parents, you thought Christmas would be hard, and it was…but you’d found friends in school who would celebrate with you.

It was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day that killed you. People didn’t invite their orphaned friend over to celebrate those holidays with their family because…well because that’s weird.

These two months brought with them the painful reminder that your parents were gone.

Truthfully, you’d been glad to get the page letting you know that a case came in, it would have been a welcomed distraction…if it hadn’t been in your hometown.

Aaron could see how tense you were. He was trying to profile you, figure out what had you so worked up. He knew this time of year had to be difficult for you, seeing as Rossi told him you lost your mom. But he could tell there was something deeper, rooted within you.

It took some time, but after sitting back and observing, he figured it out. A few different officers knew you by name and were on a first-name basis with you. You’d been extremely familiar with the layout of the city, not needing directions to the location you’d gone to earlier. This must be your hometown.

--

“Alright guys, nice job today. So, we are flying out first thing tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Rossi said.

You were slow to pack up, gathering your things, chatting with a few of the officers before heading out of the precinct. You didn’t really know what to do, you didn’t want to go back to the hotel, but you also didn’t want to go around town. You had too many memories here, it was too hard to go around and picture all the times you had with your parents around here.

“Hey, you want to go for a drive with me?” Aaron asked

You couldn’t even mask the shock as it etched its way across your features.

“Sure.”

At first you had no idea where Aaron was heading, the drive feeling unfamiliar…but then all at once you’d figured it out. He was driving to Blue Grove Cemetery.

“What the hell are you doing? Why are we here?” You questioned, anxiety lacing your words.

“Look, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to go through May and June, now that they’re gone. I thought it might be nice for you to see them before we head back tomorrow.” Aaron explained.

So many feelings were running through you. Initially anger, why would he blindside you like this. But then that morphed into panic, you didn’t want Hotch to see this side of you, the weak and vulnerable side. But lastly was this weird warmth…it was slow moving like molasses, sticking to every part of your body.

--

Aaron parked and let you control the pace. He waited to move until you reached for the handle on the door, slowly exiting the SUV. You stood there, still, unmoving, unsure if you could do this. Aaron grabbed a bag out of the back seat before walking around to meet you where you stood.

“I’m sorry, I – I don’t…”

“Hey,” Aaron placed his hand on your shoulder gently. “Take your time.”

You nodded at him gratefully.

Eventually you began to move, leading Aaron through the cemetery. You’d passed headstone after headstone until you came to a stop at their gravesite, resting just below a beautiful tree, offering just enough shade to allow you respite from the heat.  

Aaron laid out a small blanket, letting you sit first, hesitating for a beat.

“You can sit…please.” You asked, more than told.

Aaron sat next to you silently. He pulled the bag in front of the two of you, removing its contents, a sandwich cut in half, a bag of kettle chips (your favorite) and lastly two diet cokes. As you watched him, you smiled, you may bother him once in a while…okay all the time…but he cared. Whether he’d admit it or not.

The two of you sat there, eating, enjoying the cool breeze that the afternoon offered. After some time had passed, you found yourself telling Aaron about your parents. How your mom loved to bake, and she would tell you that food brought people together. You told him how your dad did everything himself, he never called in a specialist for everything.

Aaron chimed in with how you’d clearly taken after them and it made you an incredible profiler…and there it was again, that warm feeling.

You’d recognized it… it was the same feeling that bloomed within you on valentine’s day, and before that, on Christmas. You’d bought hotch these really fancy fountain pens he’d mentioned in passing and he got you a coat, a nice warm one, since you didn’t seem to own one.

This warm, sticky, sweet feeling was rearing its ugly head…and you were pretty sure it was called love.

--

July 1995

That warm feeling had burrowed its way deep into your core and you were freaking out. You’d been doing everything you could to act normal around Hotch, you were worried you’d been failing miserably.

“I think your agent has a crush on my agent…” Rossi said to Gideon, peaking out the window of his office.

“That’s interesting, because I am pretty sure your agent has feelings for my agent.” Gideon challenged.

“Do you think they’ll figure it out?”

“Not any time soon.”

--

You flicked a paper football over your screen onto Hotch’s desk. He glanced up at you, only his gaze didn’t hold its usual annoyance, instead there was something that mirrored amusement written there.

“Are you trying to bother me some more?” Aaron asked.

“Um, yes. That’s my job; to bother you…didn’t you get the memo?” You teased.

“I must have missed that one.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

You went back to your report, working diligently. All of two minutes passed before the paper football knocked against your hand as it landed on your desk. You laughed and shook your head gently, there was that stupid feeling again.

--

October 1995

Your knuckles rapped gently against Gideon’s office door. You were shaking, your stomach twisted at the thought of what you were about to do. It had taken you a little while to figure out the best option…knowing that it wouldn’t be professional to continue working with Hotch with these feelings you had for him.

You’d looked at all the openings here at Quantico, trying to figure out which position would best suit you. Ultimately, counterterrorism was looking for someone with a background in psychology, so it just made sense. Which brings you to now, you were about to go into Gideon’s office and request the transfer.

“Come in.”

“Hey Gideon, I uh…I need to talk to you about something.” You stumbled a bit.

“Go ahead.” He gestured to the chair opposite him.

You sat, taking a steadying breath. “I’m requesting a transfer. To counterterrorism.”

“No.”

“Gideon, you-”

“No.” He began. “I am not going to sign a transfer request for you, especially not to counterterrorism, you have exceptional skills, and we need them here.”

“Gideon, I have to transfer. I feel – I have…” You trailed off as your eyes found Aaron beyond the window in the bullpen. “I can’t work with him, not when I feel like this.”

Gideon took a deep breath, looking at you and taking in the longing gaze you wore. He didn’t fully understand what thoughts were running through your head, but if this is what you felt you needed to do, he wasn’t going to stop you. You were a very strong and capable agent…he trusted your judgement.

“How much longer do we have you here at the BAU?” He asked waving for you to hand him the paper.

“Two weeks.” You sighed. “I’m sorry Gideon.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re smart and you need to do what is best for you.”

--

November 1995

“Alright guys we have a case, round table in five.” Rossi called out into the bullpen.

You gathered your things, knowing you wouldn’t be travelling with them for this case. You figured you’d sit through the round table, offer a few theories and then let them go on their way.  Aaron watched you slowly grabbing a legal pad and your signature pink pen, he chuckled grabbing his own paper and one of the fountain pens from the set you bought him.

“Before we begin I just want to say that I am so proud of how you have grown and flourished with this team, and while it is a huge loss for the BAU, counterterrorism is lucky to have you.” Gideon stated, looking at you.

“What? You-you’re transferring?” Aaron asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“When…when are you leaving?” He asked.

“Today is my last day.” Your gaze shifted to your lap.

“We can talk about this later, let’s go over the facts of the case.” Gideon demanded.

Through the entire briefing Aaron’s eyes were burning into you. He couldn’t focus on the fact of this case because he was completely hung up on the fact that yours wouldn’t be the face across from him anymore…you weren’t going to be there to flick paper footballs at him, or to hum songs all day, to crunch annoyingly on baby carrots. Who was going to bother him if you were gone?

After you finished going over the case, you couldn’t help the sting behind your eyes, slowly realizing that this was it, your time at the BAU was done. But you held your head up high and steeled yourself. You offered Gideon a handshake, Rossi pulled you into a tight hug, and Aaron…well he brushed by you with a curt nod.

--

Aaron was miserable throughout the entirety of the two weeks they were away on this case. He was moping, and it wasn’t going unnoticed. Rossi and Gideon shared a knowing look, thankful that he was finally figuring it out.

They hadn’t quite expected it to take him so long to do something about it.

--

December 1995

The bullpen was so quiet without you. Aaron felt uneasy; he was the only one in the center of the floor now that you were gone. His file going long forgotten as he sat back and thought about things for a bit…

When he first saw you, you’d entered the elevator at the same time for your interviews, you’d offered a quiet thank to him for holding the elevator for you and he couldn’t deny then how cute you were. But then you’d both been hired on as profilers and he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to think that anymore, so he shoved the feeling down.

Then you spilled your coffee all over the table, effectively ruining his file, but you’d cursed, burning your hand as you quickly tried to clean it up. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and tell you it would be okay, so he fled.

It was so many things after that, your intelligence and the passion you had for profiling. Your baking, always noting people’s favorites and bringing them sweets, just to see them smile. The way you listened, remembering something he’d brought up in passing and gone out of your way to order his favorite pens.

Oh shit. He was in love with you. He’d fallen in love with you and had been too stupid to realize it.

--

Aaron moved with a purpose, rushing through the FBI building, making his way up the two flights of stairs it took to get to counterterrorism. He burst through the door, drawing attention to himself, his eyes frantically scanning the room in search of you.

He moved forward, noticing you across the room. He reached you in a few long strides, stopping just before you.

“Hotch…what are you doing here?” You looked around, blushing profusely.

“Sweetheart, you need to come back to the BAU.”

“I can’t…Aaron I-”

“I know that I have given you no reason to believe this, but I love you sweetheart. I need you to come back to the BAU, come back and bother me, baby.”

“No.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well yes.”

“Aaron, no.”

“Yes! Come bother me, baby. Bother me for the rest of my life.” Aaron begged. His hands reaching forward to cup your face.

“Okay” You gasped.

Aaron pulled you into a kiss, the agents surrounding you erupting in cheers for the both of you.

--

Bonus scene – May 2016

“Happy Mother’s Day sweetheart.”

“Happy Mother's Day mom!”

“Thank you guys!” You smiled, feeling nothing but joy looking to those who surrounded you.

Before you was your incredible husband and your three children, two sons and a daughter. They had gotten up early to make breakfast for you before they headed off to school. There had been a bouquet of peonies, cards, and a pack of razzles.

“Jack, are you okay to get Zoey to school today? We got called in pretty early.” You asked.

“Yeah mom! I have practice though, so Jason and Zoey might have to hang out a while.”

“Don’t worry about that bud, Will offered to pick them up when he picks up Michael.” Aaron patted Jack on the shoulder.

“Alright kids, we will see you later, be safe and please text me when you get to school!” You called, heading out the door with Aaron hot on your tail.

--

Aaron and you made your way into the BAU hand-in-hand. You glanced around at this team you built together, and you couldn’t be happier. Aaron made his way toward his office, noticing you’d stopped and before he could say anything, Dave clapped him on the back.

“Leave her be. She’s admiring this family you’ve built together.”

You looked over to where Aaron and Dave stood, offering a bright smile. You then made your way down to the floor, greeting Emily, JJ, Derek, Spencer and Penelope.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[cybrasigilism]

could u maybe do like mutual virginity loss with player 125? like both of them r so shy and awkward,, i think it would be adorable.,.

So Anxious (Park Min-su/Player 125 X F! Reader SMUT)

warning: smut, no way | not proofread | lowercase intended | sub x sub | virginity loss | riding | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions of the character differ from your own

character: park min-su (player 125)

A/N: decided to make this one an out of the games kinda post! i absolutely adore the idea of the reader being just as shy and nervous about the whole ordeal as min-su, thank you for the cute request! hope you enjoy :)

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➤ since you were both serious about having you first be with someone special, you guys definitely tried to talk it out beforehand. but you both ended up becoming too flustered to really continue.

“how are we gonna be able to do it if we can’t even talk about it?”

“i don’t know…i still want to though..”

➤ when you guys eventually decided to get to it, you initiated the kiss but pulled away almost immediately, covering your face sheepishly.

“sorry! am i moving too fast?”

“n-not at all!” (he was definitely blushing himself, conflicted whether or not to hide the tent in his pants considering what you two were trying to do here)

➤ at first, you guys tried making out in the typical position— you being underneath him. but, you could tell min-su wasn’t exactly confident like this, so you guys switched up to where you would be straddling him. this drove him nuts of course

➤ once you guys got into the groove of things, your nerves began to calm. sure you were both shaking, but it had a bit more to do with the sheer anticipation now coursing through your bodies each time your lips met. it wasn’t made any better when min-su eventually snuck his hands up your shirt, caressing your bare back with his cold palms. the noise you made startled him, which you felt bad for

“oh, i’m sorry.. was that too much?”

“no! no, your hands are just c-cold.. that’s all..”

“ah, did you want me to stop or-“

you shake your head “feels nice, don’t stop on my account.”

➤ you’re unsure if you should at first, but you start to grind on him, drawing a unexpected moan from beneath the kiss you were currently sharing. you broke the kiss as you started to subconsciously grind harder, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment at the expression that must have been painting your face just then. you could tell min-su was repressing his voice just as much as you were your own— you were both positively petrified to make any sound at all, in fact. but, some stifled moans made their way past as he shifted his grasp from your back to your hips.

➤ when you guys actually ended up having sex, it was a swift matter for both parties. i mean, let’s be real here. you were both completely inexperienced virgins, you couldn’t be surprised that you guys both wound up cumming fast. however swift it may have been, you enjoyed it nonetheless. he wasn’t too big, so it didn’t hurt too badly, but it was enough to make you feel better than your fingers ever could.

➤ oh yeah, and you guys could forget about masking those moans of yours any longer. the moment you sank down onto his dick, min-su was a goner. you had never heard him make such a sound in all your life, and you even asked him if he was alright initially. sure, you may not have been so vocal at first contact, but as soon as you started moving that completely turned on its head.

➤ after the fact, you both just kind of laid there next to one another. silent. come on, you had just changed the trajectory of your friendship forever, that was a lot to process. after a moment though, you both found that neither of you could wipe those stupid grins off your faces. you had just changed the entire path of your friendship, forever. and you were both okay with that

AAAA thank you so much for this adorable request! i absolutely loved writing some soft smut, however short it may have been :) thanks for reading again, and i’ll see you on the next one!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agorsnotworld @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[777rare]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT. 7

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

Also, trigger warning, I have mentioned s**ual harr**ment. You can skip the 6th point in this post if you are sensitive to these things.

• Taurus mercury natives have such elegant voices. My bestfriend has this placement too and my god, her voice is just so feminine and sweet you know, like it has a feminine touch, so soft and relaxing to listen to. Oh, these natives also sing beautifully, it just comes so naturally to them.🤌🥴

• Moon in 5th house individuals get into a lot of relationships in a lifetime. Most of them are unsteady and shortlived. This also makes the native end up in a lot of situationships. One of my friend has this and she faced this a lot too.😕

• My male friend has moon in 4rth house and he values his mother like a 100%.🤯 He always values her opinion on the decisions he makes. He really loves her. The same effect takes place with all men having moon in the 4rth house.😊

• This is just an observation of mine, just a reminder so if this does not relate with you, I apologise.🙏 I have observed that people whose ascendant falls on the 12th house don't really get seen by people as their ascendant. Rather they are seen first as the sign overlaying the 1st house.

>This happens as the native grows up. As children they behaved very much like their ascendant sign but mostly due to being taunted, commented on and so on, they began to hide this part of themselves (which explains the ascendant lying in the 12th house) and then they begin wearing the 1st house sign as a shield that hides what they actually are on the inside.😔😒

>The 12th house represents mainly what is hidden from everyone, mostly because of underlying fear of judgement and not meeting the expectations of others. So the ascendant overlaying here really explains a lot to us.

>For example:

✓ a few of my friends have this in their chart and they've told me how they behaved as kids but changed due to the reasons I mentioned above. The 5th house🤰does give us a picture of how our childhood was but this played a role too.

✓ Like one of my friend has her sagittarius ascendant in the 12th house. As a kid she was always jumping, could not sit still in one place, always laughed and so on but as she grew up, due to the negative commentary of many, she showed her capricorn 1st house side more to others and people began calling her boring or too intimidating to hang out with. She is a silent person now but when you get to know her better and become close enough for her to trust you, this sagittarius side of her naturally comes out and she's very playful with me.🤭🤠

✓ Even my other friend who has leo ascendant in the 12th house told me she was confident and very playful as a kid, quite headstrong when it came to her toys and the ones she played with too but growing up she faced harsh situations and now people see her as this extremely quite, soft and delicate person due to her cancer 1st house, but when she becomes comfortable with you, she shows this bright and creative side of hers. No one recognises how creative she is as well and those who are close with her always call her this ray of sunshine while those who are not, see her as this shy walking creature. We often even compare her to the sun saying she's like the sun in a dark room.🌻🌞

This can mostly resonate with those whose placidus chart resonates well with them because I have seen this more on placidus charts than whole sign charts.

• True node ☌ (conjunct) Uranus natives are extremely free- spirited people who will destroy anything or anyone who tries to take away their freedom, even if it's family.

(by destroy, I don't necessarily mean physical violence. I mean go against them and disturb their peace of mind and many a times even verbally wound them or just cut them off from their life)

They don't want to live by rules and norms of society often questioning it. They desire a life away from all the constraints that society has imposed upon humanity. They believe very much in the laws of nature and dislike the way humans restrict free-spirits like them.

They believe that they've come on Earth to fulfill their soul purpose alone and not to be entirely bound or tied down by the toxic desires desires and wishes of others, especially when it's control them. Now, these people are not savages or rouges. They are in fact very non-judgmental and offer you free space to be yourself.

They are the aliens in a world full of human beings. They have this very strong gut feeling that they have come on Earth to make a massive change. They are also usually lost in this world where everything changes in the blink of an eye, where the world evolves faster as the years pass by. They are also very good with technology I must say, they are very quick learners too, mostly with only what really grabs their attention because they cannot focus entirely on one thing.

They are curious souls longing for answers to their mind boggling questions. They are hard to figure out, hence I call them the Aliens on Earth and their minds/thoughts are UFOs. They can never settle, either physically or mentally or even both.

The depth of their mind and it's inner adventures are massive and eccentric in nature. They are amazing adventurers. Most of the time they really want to separate themselves from humanity and go to another planet.

They are also very very loyal and devoted lovers when they are 100% assured by their partner that their partner will be theirs no matter what. They do have a tendency to get flighty when they're afraid to invest completely only to be betrayed and cheated by their partner. This is all because of The impact of AQUARIUS features. ♒

• Natives with Black Moon Lilith (or any Lilith for that matter) ☌ (conjunct) Vertex can face significant fated events that target the darkest parts of themselves that they dont heal within themselves and are ashamed of.

These are the kind of events that can bring out or resurface shame and the unaccepted sides of themselves. There is also heavy risks of explicit exposure, se*ual harr**ment, being exploitated by both genders,etc. (how you are exploited can be mentally, physically, emotionally, etc and depends upon which house lilith sits in).

These individuals should be very careful about having their explicit stuff exposed to the public. There will also be an event that will completely change the native and push them to give 0 fucks about what society thinks of them, because all they've ever done was be kind, been taken advantage of in so many ways and no one stood up for them and even pretended to.

You must be careful wherever Lilith sits because this exposure and/or events will take place in those areas of your life.

Ex: 6TH HOUSE = colleagues, workplace, acquaintances, hidden enemies, innocence. When Lilith sits here be careful of those whom you are kind with and who are kind with you because in secret they may spread false rumours about you and even stalk you in order to expose you in some way. Your acquaintances may even blackmail you for various reasons so as to get you to do what they want you to do. These events can impact your health greatly.

I have this too and I have been through such shameful situations that I'm still working on healing.😮‍💨

• I have observed that once a fixed sign Mars (♉♒♌♏) native is done with you, they are DONE. If you do them dirty in any way, no matter how minor it is, they will never look at you the same way they did before ever again and they'll never apologise when they believe they've done nothing wrong.

They'll never beg you for forgiveness or run behind you when you stop giving them attention. They prioritize self-respect and don't feel the need to waste time with people or situations that cannot improve. Most of my friends have this and I've seen this in every single one of them.

"You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist". This is what they believe very much when it comes to dealing with people. If there is no reciprocation of respect, they will put their foot down, No doubt.

They are also very stern when it comes to making decisions. Very headstrong and you cannot convince these people easily. You will need a lot of evidence, proof and assurance to convince these natives about anything.🧐🥲

Like for example, if any or both of your parents have a fixed Mars, when you ask their permission to go out to a place with friends or ask them if you can go to that birthday party, or anything that requires their permission and consent, they will ask you so so many questions and even go the extra mile to make sure you are safe and that you are telling them the truth.😮‍💨 It is very hard to convince these natives when it comes to absolutely anything folks, you'll need an hour or two at least and even years at most lol.😭😂

My mom and sister, both, have a Taurus Mars and my god, they are so so hard to convince. They also are very stern decision makers and they value respect and boundaries which if messed with in any way, they will cut that person out so easily. 😶

Both of them are extremely overprotective of their loved ones and even very very possessive of the ones they love. This trait can be seen in the fixed sign Mars natives in general. They are so overprotective and possessive that it can become quite unbearable for the person experiencing it because the fixed sign Mars natives begin to check in on everything the person does.

celebrity examples:

•An actor named Ajay Devgn has his Mars in scorpio and his ex, Tabu, explained how Ajay's overprotectiveness and extreme possessiveness of her scared her and she left him because of it.

•Tom Cruise has his Mars in Taurus and his ex wives have told, the reason they left him was mainly due to his overhearing nature and how possessive he was of them so he would control what they wore and so on.

Thats all for today guys! I really hope you enjoyed reading this and I pray you have a bright day ahead❤️🌻

Thankyou for tuning in!

[pinkyqily]

JUJU WATKINS X TUTOR READER hcs

── contains: nun just cutesy moments

── authors' notes: for the anons who requested a lot of hcs this is one of them I'll have the rest posted soon thank you for sending in ideas really appreciate it, I have a juju x influencer at the super bowl fic coming up soon so look out for that reactions, feedbacks, thoughts are always appreciated 💕 like always happy reading readers 🫶🏿

• you both already knew each other because you normally come in and help the team, but juju needed help with accounting, she came up to you asking if you and her could do private study session.

• she went from texting you about school to asking you when you could hang.

• acts like she doesn't understand a topic to spend more time with you even though she already gets it.

• For your meet-ups, she's always bringing your favorite snacks and drinks anything you basically need.

• After months of you helping her, she finally gained the confidence to ask you out. At first, you rejected her because her studies and basketball needed to be her top priority, but she was so persistent about going out with you that you gave in and said yes.

• Now that you're both official, she acts shameless but only in private with you.

• likes stealing kisses when no one is wachting.

• when the team has a bad game, all she wants is to lay in your arms and cuddle for hours until she feels better.

• when you try and explain subjects to her, but she wants your attention, she starts leaving kisses from your lips to neck.

• always wanting you to sit on her lap in her defense, it helps her understand the subjects better.

• definitely likes it when you praise her for passing her exams or quiz.

• late night dates are you guys things.

• she makes sure that your study sessions are not the only time you hang out.

• when she's away for a game, you guys end up calling for hours.

• when it is a group session, she's always whispering inappropriate stuff in your ear. You could be explaining something, and she'll randomly say something dirty into your ears, making you stop mid sentence.

• For home games, she gets you front row tickets that close to where the team is.

• either she sends you funny videos or sends you videos of her and rayray acting a fool.

• hates when you're disappointed in her when she doesn't perform well on a text.

• arguments with her during a week where you have to tutor her is hell, gives you hella silent treatment you could apologize how many times but she won't take it.

• gets annoyed when you have to tutor other students.

[lemotmo]

Ryan gave same answer to buddie question he is been giving from the moment bi buck was canon. He didn’t say in same words like Eddie is straight and buck Eddie are brothers but he did say the same in so many words like friendship between straight and queer characters is an important storyline and that’s priority than anything else

I always try to ignore interviews especially Ryan’s answers to buddie questions as what they think is not important and what the show is trying to show is important. But at this point I am not really sure if I should trust the show as Ryan is the one playing Eddie and his answer at this point of time is same and not even vague like let’s see where the script goes or I am ok with what ever the story takes. Just don’t know what to expect at this point

To be clear I am not saying Ryan is homophonic or anything, he seems like a kind person who treats everyone equally and with respect. But with all his answers in interviews, I get a feeling like he is not so much comfortable with playing a gay character (for what ever reason I don’t know and I don’t question or judge people choices as it doesn’t harm any real people).

If Eddie is still straight by 8.14 or 15, I don’t have much hope

Nonny, all do respect, but I have to ask this:

Why did you bring this to my blog? You must have seen my enthusiasm about Ryan's latest interview and how it has only strenghtened my conviction that Buddie is going canon. So why would you post this here when you already know what I'm going to tell you?

I also don't understand your reaction here. I've been in this fandom for years now and I've never been more confident that it's going canon than now. Before season 7 I never even thought Buddie would get a fighting chance.

What did you expect Ryan to say in this interview? 8b hasn't aired yet, so he can't disclose any of the upcoming storylines. He was always going to rehash some of his earlier answers from previous interviews, because what else could he possibly answer?

The inevitable Buddie question came and -once again- he had to find a way to answer it without spoiling anything. What could he possibly have said? He can't just come out and say that Buddie is going canon at this point, because it hasn't happened yet.

So he said the only thing he could say, the message that no matter who you are and who you love in life, it's important to support each other. Which is a beautiful message in itself.

He isn't saying anything else than Oliver did in his pre-biBuck days. It's the same 'trying to talk about it, but not allowed to say anything' kind of thing. 🤷‍♀️

And what about the question where Ryan was asked what advice he would give Eddie? His answer was so telling. It hinted at Eddie not being straight in such a profound way. That was basically the only thing he could say when it comes to Eddie's sexuality storyline.

The man's hands were and are tied. They have been for a long time. And no, he isn't afraid to play a gay man. How do I know this? Because he has actually played a gay man before in another project. He also talked about, on multiple times, the fact that he would be all for Buddie if the story would go there. Those are not the words of a man who doesn't want to play a gay man.

If he really wouldn't want to play a gay man, he would just state it out loud. He would say something like 'Yeah, the Buddie thing is a really fun thing. Oliver and me joke about it, but it isn't going to happen. Eddie is very straight and he will never be interested in Buck like that.' BAM! Just like that he would make it clear to everyone that he isn't willing to play that part and it isn't happening.

Now, if you want an example of an interview by someone who really doesn't want to play a gay character, but had no other choice because it was the only job he could get? Look no further and Google one of Lou Fjr's unhinged interviews where he talks about how he doesn't think it's always appropriate for two characters to make out on screen, but that rule only seems to apply to male/male relationships. He never seemed to have any issues with making out with women on screen before. 🙄

But anyway, let's not get distracted here by talking about that man and let's get back onto the subject of Ryan's interview.

I know that I probably won't be able to change your mind on this Nonny and I'm not even going to attempt it, because in all honesty? I'm tired of all the nay-saying and the inevitable spiral of fear that happens every single time when something happens in this fandom.

I don't know what you want? I've been in so many fandoms, shipping ships that NEVER became canon even though they should have. There was always subtext of course, but that's where it ended. The rest of the story we (the fandom) had to build up from scratch.

For Buddie though--

This isn't just about subtext anymore Nonny. This is fullblown TEXT! It's all there in the show, in the PR, in the interviews, in social media, in Family Fued and Jeopardy! What more could you possibly want?

If you don't believe it by now? There is nothing I can say or do to convince you, so you will just have to wait and see as the episodes air.

Tell you what though--

I predict that we will find out about Eddie's sexuality sometime before or at the very last in episode 8x15. Bold statement, I know. But I feel very confident about this. Oh and Buck? I'm willing to bet that all of his spiraling will finally lead to him realising he is in love with Eddie and this will be shown to us even sooner than Eddie's coming out.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now excuse me while I go bask in the glory of the impending promise that is Buddie canon. 😏

[lostinlovingrevery]

Logan howlett being gross please 🙏🙏

I so badly wanted to answer this all day but I was busy so thanks for your patience!! I may end up writing an actual drabble of him being nasty BUT since it's 10 and I need to be up by 5 am tomorrow I'm gonna give some headcanons out to keep you freaks (lovingly)(im a freak too otherwise i wouldn't be writing this) satisfied. Love you guys <3

if there's anything specific you want me to talk about, feel free to send an ask!

(logan judging me for putting his nastiness out there)

NSFW stuff under the cut. Beware. some of it's gross. :)

Lets start with what I said in that one post

Yes, Logan would fuck himself in every part of you if you let him

personally not big on anal myself but if you guys are down for that, he would definitely like to try it.

I think it's less of getting himself off or being attracted to it, like your elbow or knees

its more of being able to claim you more ways than one, his animalistic instinct REALLY kicks in on this. Scents probably play a part on this

IF you let him do the things he wants, you're gonna get treated SO GOOD afterwards, believe me. Satisfying his urges in the weird ways he gets em? You're an actual fucking angel to him

I've mentioned foot jobs before. I think honestly the foot job is probably what started this whole thing. It's a body part he never considered getting off from. It's until you guys were in your bedroom, hes walking around naked fresh from the shower and you get playful, reaching your feet out and messing with his cock. He was surprised how hard it made him and then when he cums he's like... "Now what else can I get off on?"

I almost mentioned scents. Logans so big on scents yall we established this. You smelling like him, him smelling like you.

When you're a little more settled in your relationship, he may start making comments on how good you smell after workouts, sex, etc. Its the pheromones man

You don't think much until you catch him straight up inhaling your workout clothes one day

He's a bit flustered over it

claims he didn't know what he was doing (he did) and that he was just getting ready to do laundry (he was not) (he went straight to your laundry with the goal of smelling that shit)

PANTY SNIFFER

Loves your panties and bras the most. Definitely will keep your used panties here and there. he does it discreetly, confidently. He's not so ashamed for you to find him sniffing your panties.

Nasty making out. big fan of this

he wants you both practically drooling into each other. can and will spit in your mouth and wants you to do the same

will make out with you with his cum in your mouth. He doesn't like his cum it's just the fact of it's you mixed with him.

He'll love it if you have each others essence and make out like that too.

It's not every time but sometimes he'll just get these urges to make you both messy as hell. spit and cum, hickeys, scratches etc etc

I've also said this before but period sex period sex period sex

He does not fucking care

Makes him a lil wild actually. Might scare you a bit.

If you initially don't want to do it, he'll leave it alone and eventually get needy enough he'll find excuses and then he founds out sex can help relieve periods and he's like

"I'm just tryna make you feel better baby"

When you finally give in his ecstatic

he will def be careful though. He truly doesn't want to hurt you. He's just a needy lil thing for you

Eating. you. out on your period.

I know, it's gross. But so is he.

The first happens on accident. He tastes it while eating you out and immediately recognizes it. he doesn't stop and doesn't tell you

You realize it when he finishes and looks up and his face is covered in blood

quite frankly you're horrified

he didn't care. just goes and washes himself up and you as well.

You're gonna need to change the sheets though. Logans a messy eater

He will eat and drink food from your mouth

you're telling him "oh Lo! Try this pie its SO good-" as you put the fork in your mouth and you're about to give him a piece and feed it to him and he insteads grabs you by the back of your neck and sticks his tongue in your mouth and tastes it that way

It shocks you (and turns you on)

"Yeah baby, it is good." he chuckles as he smacks his lips and walks away leaving you dumbfounded and a bit horny

(you're just like)

will get so nasty about fucking you too like the dirty talking

"Your pussy so fucking tight and wet. Sucking me in and everything."

"You fucking love how I taste don't you? All that cum and sweat. dirty girl."

"my cum tastes good in you baby"

"cmon, taste how good you are darling"

Ive mentioned about him going into a trance after he cums on you

he's cummed inside you and now staring at it leaks out of you

he's pushing it back in and trying to keep it all in you

doesn't even hear you whining over it

he starts spreading it all over you. it just looks so good painted on your pretty pussy

like i said this man adores you and that means ALL of you

will drool during sex

you're just going at it and you guys hit a point where your mindless and fucking

you feel so good and he can't even think straight. acting purely on instinct and you feel his drool on your back. You look back and his mouth is hanging open and his eyes shut and he's thrusting into you over and over, completely contorted in pleasure

lets talk a little about some other stuff

logan keeps up his hygiene of course. brushes teeth. washes his ass. he may consider himself an animal but he's not gonna let himself go. he IS from the 1800s yknow

but he runs like a heater and can and will sweat

esp with all those fucking layers

sweaty dick and balls. nuff said. hope you enjoy that

his natural musk is strong as hell. honestly though to you it'll smell really really good

leaks a lot of precum when he's horny.

his hairs insane though. So much hair. Its' gonna get in your mouth

actually even if hes groomed it's still gonna get in your mouth. he has a lot of hair

Enjoy nasty logan! <3

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!matt and smart!reader have their first tutoring session !!

got carried away but i love these two sm :( so excited to share more of them!!! asks & requests are always open.

these two are from the same universe as popular!chris & cinderella!reader. you can find all writings here.

06.58am.

you had pulled into the parking lot of the lake, your tyres crunching against the gravel beneath you. the morning air was frozen cold, and the sun was just starting to rise, causing a golden-orange glow across the sky.

you were shocked to see matt’s car already parked, surprised he’d actually turned up before 7am. even more surprising, he’d taken your usual parking spot, the one you always claimed when you arrived. typical.

you’d swapped numbers and texted him last night, arranging with him to meet at the local riverside coffee shop. it was always quiet at this hour, and you liked the view of the water, always making sure to take a photo of the sunrise to post on your instagram story.

as you look over to the group of benches placed outside the coffee shop, your gaze lands on matt, he was wearing his letterman jacket, the one with your college’s logo stitched into the back and his surname in bold above it. he was sitting on the bench to the side, coincidentally, the one you always sat on.

you shut off the engine, and gather up all your things, hoping to get this first session with him over and done with.

when you reach him, he looks up from his phone, locking it and placing it face down before giving you one of his infamous smirks. “ah, thought for a moment you were gonna be late pretty girl,” he teases, “you’re cuttin’ it fine.”

you roll your eyes, ignoring the nickname, knowing it was probably something he said to every girl, although for some reason, it made your stomach flip, but you instantly and quite easily pushed that feeling aside.

“well, i’m surprised you’re even here.” you say, sitting yourself down on the opposite side of the bench, placing a maths textbook down between you both.

“i told you, i’m not gonna let you down.” he says, shifting slightly to make room for your stuff on the table, “so, let’s get to work. shall we?”

“what do you want to learn first?” you ask, placing your elbows on the table, leaning your chin in your hand. “what does the matt sturniolo want to learn everything about?”

he leans forward, eyes scanning the papers you had brought with you. “i dunno, maybe somethin’ easy.” he laughs, “or equations, i’m really shit at equations.”

you can’t help but let out a small giggle, shaking your head as you open the textbook, finding the section you needed on equations.

you begin explaining the first set of problems on the page, making sure to break them down, keeping it as simple and precise as possible and as much as you had expected him to not take this seriously, matt was surprisingly observant, writing down little notes here and there as you went over each step.

“any questions?” you ask him after a few minutes.

he hesitates, then goes on to ask you, “did you really think i wasn’t going to show up today?”

you raise an eyebrow, part of you did truly expect that he was going to bail, but part of you deep down, is glad he didn’t. “honestly? i did, a little.” you admit, “but i’m glad you’re here. you’re a lot smarter than you think.”

he smiles at your answer, before it slowly turns into a smirk. “any questions for me?” he asks you, mimicking your previous question to him.

“is it true that you hooked up with one of the cheerleaders who’s boyfriend is the captain of football team we’re playing on friday?” you mimic his smirk, throwing him completely off guard, playing him at his own game.

“correct.” he chuckles, admitting it. “alright, back to equations.”

for the next forty five minutes, you worked through all kinds of maths problems, and matt started to really catch on. he began to understand things easily, solving the harder math problems with more confidence as the minutes ticked by.

he stops for a moment, looking over at you, when suddenly he pushes his jacket off his shoulders and throws it over yours. “here,” he says quietly, “you’re shivering”

you glance up at him, unsure whether to be surprised or annoyed at him chucking his jacket on you. “it’s not that cold.”

“do you know how many girls would love to be in your position?” he jokes, “wearing the matt sturniolo’s jacket.”

you huff, admitting defeat as you slip the jacket on properly, the fabric swallowing you completely but the sudden warmth and scent of his cologne takes over you. “and i’m sure there’s probably been quite a few who have worn it, probably with nothing else on underneath.”

“you really think i’d let just anyone wear this? c’mon pretty girl, told you there’d be something in this for you.”

“there is something in it for me, you promised you’d make the football team stop being mean to my best friend.” you reply, narrowing your eyes, “you have to keep your side of the deal.”

“i will,” he says, holding his pinky out. “promise.”

a small smile tugs at your lips. a pinky promise seeming ridiculous, but something about it secretly makes your heart skip a beat. maybe it’s how seriously he’s taking all this. your loop your finger around his and give it a half hearted tug before pushing his hand away lightly.

“i’m holding you to that pinky promise.” you reply, before adding. “i take pinky promises seriously.”

you stand up, starting to pack your things up when matt stands too, offering a helping hand when his hand brushes against yours and for a split second, it feels… electric. you pull back quickly, mentally scolding yourself, you mustn’t let yourself get distracted by his charm.

you have always told yourself that falling in love with anyone would only bring a distraction to your studies, and you’re far too focused on your goals to let anything nor anyone throw you off track. this is just tutoring, nothing more, and you’re not about to let a boy like matt complicate things by calling you nicknames, and giving you that same smooth talk you know he uses on every girl.

you glance down at his jacket still draped over your shoulders, and you quickly shrug it off. holding it out to him, “here,” you half smile, “thanks, i’ll be sure to remember mine next time.”

he takes the jacket back without a word, before he starts walking backwards to his car, still facing you with that infamous smirk smacked on his face again, “same time, next week?”

“yep, same time next week.”

“here again? before classes start?”

“yes matt, here again. 7am.” you say, tone steady.

“i’ll be there pretty girl, 6.59.” he laughs, chucking his keys into the air before catching them.

you watch him finally turn away and get into his car, driving off. as his car disappears, you get into yours and rest your head on the steering wheel, a heavy sigh escaping your lips.

and little do you know, this tutoring thing is only the start of something you never saw coming.

[npdkondraki]

see ok the thing about norm is that i really truly do think that post-canon she DOES end up realizing shes trans. it's just that, her entire life, she has been told to be a "real man" and by god has she conformed to that. she went to war, she manned up and took care of her mother in her final years, hell, she had a wife and children. she has essentially forced herself into the role of a classic american patriarch.

she has, whether subconsciously or not, molded herself into being everything she has ever been told to be, without any question. she's been told her entire life that men are gruff, that men are cruel, that men do not show emotions other than rage, and that to be a "real man" she has to be all those things and worse. you can see this just in the way that she carries herself, constantly going out of her way to intimidate or threaten anyone. with every interaction she has, she deliberately (attempts) to make them scared of her.

you can even link this back to how she thinks of callum, seeing them as solely a self-made man. norm wants, so desperately, to be viewed as "good" and to be respected, and the only way she knows how to make that happen is to be a man. callum's presidency reaffirmed this, having seen someone in her (perceived) position of a small-town southerner who never got anything good from the world around him, constantly shoved aside to make way for everyone else. when callum grew to power, she viewed them as a "true patriarch", a man who knew what he was doing with his life. a man who was respected, who was good, who was beloved by everyone. she, however, fundamentally viewed this as happening because callum was a "self-made man", unable to separate callums manhood from their success.

literally everything norm does is based in her own ideas of what "being a man" entails. she believes that if she can't be a man, then she has failed at not just being a man, but being alive, being a person. she is so deeply ashamed and guilt-ridden over having failed her duties as "the man of the house"* (*i.e. leaving her wife and children) that she lashes out, desperately sticking to the only clutch she has on the masculinity that she believes will be ripped away from her at a moments notice. she saw what happened to callum, how they were discarded when they weren't of any usage anymore, when they couldn't just "man up", when they were no longer the patriarch everyone thought of them. the circumstances aren't close to the same, of course, but in norms eyes all she saw was someone fail at being a man and be thrown out.

she's already been thrown out and cast away before, what's stopping them from just doing it again? mingus humiliated her, stripped her of any power she had and left her with nothing, tossed her away when she deemed her "unfit". it made norm regress back into that shell of violence and paranoia, so petrified of the fact that she can no longer protect herself that she shut the world out.

she's petrified of being deemed "unfit" again, so she continues to cling to her masculinity. even with the knowledge that dialtown is full of weirdo's, she can't help but stay in her bubble. everytime someone questions her masculinity, she just digs her heels in more, asserts herself more, becomes more violent, more aggressive, more manly. she still thinks that, so long as she acts like a man, then she won't be tossed out, that she's still worth something, that she's still a person. she views every threat to her masculinity as a threat to her personhood. what she lacks in confidence, she makes up in assertiveness. she wraps herself in a blanket of long-gone traditions of being "the patriarch", a living reminder of old world masculinity, because that's all she knows of herself. she's never known anything else, after all.

[meanbossart]

I'm not sure if it's been asked before but first of all your writing skills are just incredible🤌 After reading "A Novel Experience" it was like scratching an itch that I couldn't quite reach after years of reading burnout. In summary I was genuinely interested in how have you improved and developed your writing skills? Like honestly your writing is so addictive and captivating that (respectfully) there just has to be some kind of exposure to expression through literature, or perhaps you are just simply into reading. (That's a lot of yap and sorry if it's personal in a way or another. Also thank you for inspiring me and other people alike, you are a phenomenal artist 🙏)

Oh, thank you! I am beyond flattered and I truly appreciate that you enjoy my writing so much. To be honest I am actually very dissatisfied with my work for about half of A Novel Experience - when I started it, I had no audience, I just wrote and posted the first chapter as an epilogue for the game since the canonical ending felt pretty abrupt (we didn't have the official epilogue with the extended dialogue or Wither's party back then).

Then, I just felt like I had more to say, so I kept writing and by chapter 4-5 I had this huge story plotted out. I wrote a lot of those early chapters very quickly, and often while a little drunk, and considered them rough outlines rather than a finished work. When the story and my art began picking up traction I started to put more effort into my style and presentation, which is why chapters take a LOT longer to write nowadays - but I can confidently say that I am very proud of everything that came after The Compound.

I'm not really a reader, I'd be surprised if I read more than 30 books in my entire 28 years of life, and frankly I only started to enjoy fantasy very recently through admiring many of the fromsoft games from afar, and of course by finally playing Baldur's Gate 3.

One thing I will say is that the fictional books I've read that really stuck with me - and that I would consider to have influenced the way I write - have all had very unorthodox styles. Blindness by Jose Saramago is page after page of overwhelming walls of texts that read like a slowing-down clock or an agonizingly tight turning of screws; Blood Meridian is a nearly incoherent babble written by a man who outgrew the need or patience for commas or proper sentence separation, who knowingly disregarded grammar for the sake of feel. The Consumer is a collection of borderline pornographic and horrible, horrible stories where every character is abstracted into a wider social phenomenon, point of view is irrelevant and there is no line between narrative, dissertation, or poem.

Unlike the aforementioned works and their authors, I'm not talented (or crazy) enough as a writer to COMPLETELY forego construction and grammar, but I do feel perfectly confident in prioritizing feeling and flow over what is "correct" and experimenting with text in the same way I would on a drawing. I don't think any of this makes me good at it, but hopefully it makes it interesting or unique enough to stand out. It also means that, despite disliking those first few chapters, I don't really mind having them out there, since my purpose with them was to just have fun and try to capture "a vibe" rather than show myself off as some sort of wordsmith.

Well then, I've definitely outyapped you so we're even now. Hopefully this was interesting in the slightest!

[oceansnotebook]

Ok ok I forgot which character I want to see the most can you do more TIM DRAKE in the ❤️ the way they kiss and maaaaaaybe do a making out scenario from it to I mean Tim drake deserves all the love my manssss needssss more love ❤️

okay! Sounds good. :)

❤️ - how they kiss

Tim fidgets alot when you first start dating, he’s nervous he’s going too fast for you. But once you kiss him first, the fear melts away.

he gets more confident in himself later in the relationship, initiating kisses much more often.

for soft, quick kisses, he’ll lean his head your way, immediately smiling when he pulls away.

for longer, more thoughtful kisses, he’ll cup the side of your face with his hand, sometimes he’ll cup both sides if he’s missing you.

Tim’s kisses are usually short and sweet, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have a lasting effect on you. He often tastes like coffee and cinnamon.

he’s a surprisingly good kisser too. He’s never been that confident in his kisses, but once you let him know that you enjoy them, he’s a blushing mess.

slight nsfw under the bubbles ~

When making out, he’s fidgeting. He doesn’t know where to put his hands. They usually find purchase on your waist or shoulders, but sometimes they wander.

He’ll pull you in by placing a hand on the back of your head, kissing your cheek before he kisses your sweet lips. He loves your taste and will absolutely rarely be pulling away first.

he’s a blushing mess. I’ve said this in another post, he has full body blushes. His face, ears, hands, chest everything gets all pink! You make him so flustered so making out means you usually take control unless he’s really feeling confident or somehow not stuttering over any and every word he gets out.

I hope you liked it! This was really enjoyable writing.

[captain-poodle]

i forgot i finished my rewatch the last two significant moments for fitzlittle is carnival set up when fitzjames is conferring with little during preparations and is all smiley and teasing <3 like fitzjames is cutely pushy with his attempt to cheer up little, and encourages his participation in the festivities by asking him if he's gonna dress up. it's too bad that little is allergic to parties and costumes it would seem sense he barely dresses up and as soon as jop & crozier show up he rips his costume off like he couldnt be divested of it fast enough.

but i do genuinely think fitzjames hoped that little would be cheered by everyone else also having fun at the party. like trying to raise the collective morale might trickle slowly into little's mood since fitzjames knows that little is being run ragged with minimal support on terror.

the last moment for them to me was when little was getting scolded by crozier and fitzjames stepped in to keep crozier from going in too hard. like fitzjames calling out to francis was the much needed break in the criticism moment that crozier was beginning to build into. like especially because once again nedward was left to make a tough decision that was really only A or B. like he either allowed the marines to arm more men (and potentially win some respect for giving them the authority to do something to make themselves feel safer) or Not arm more men (and potentially losing respect by not supporting their need for agency to feel safe). i dont think there was a way to navigate the situation with the knowledge that edward had. like he Did His Best.

i believe fitzjames also recognized that while he was having his private freak out that he was authoritatively unavailable so it was partially his fault that little was left without a captain's support in his decision making amidst the situation. like if fitzjames hadnt been playing with his new-old holes he would have been able to easily squash the mutineer's siege of weaponry because fitzjames is someone who carries himself with authority earned and deserved whereas little can only bolster that confidence in the defense of his captains' decisions that he is able to strongly agree with.

like little unfortunately was too sympathetic too often to the plights of those around him and oft gave into group panic. if he had been More stubborn he'd have had his authority as 3rd more respected but it certainly would have isolated him from the crew just like crozier was since also little does not have fitzjames's finely crafted charisma.

so essentially i think fitzjames kept crozier from really dragging little across the coals because of a sense of sympathy and failed responsibility. especially fitzjames even moreso than little felt the true weight of leadership and responsibility for the crew's morale during crozier's most distant moments (post flogging & sobriety speedrun).

anyway fitzlittle where fitzjames builds little's confidence to participate in decision making by both modeling a commanding aura and being supportively reactive to moments when little decides to take charge. it's like two vers who would otherwise prefer bottoming but together the more confident partner tops from the bottom.

fitzjames would train little so well...... turn him into an exemplary service top 💋 send tweet

i started a rewatch with my bestie and i noticed a couple of small details that i feel like is very fitzlittle. people have probably already pointed these things out but shrug anyway.

i think Little is very endeared to Fitzjames from the beginning. like Fitzjames posturing while wholly obvious is also reassuring from someone in command - like Fitzjames functions outwardly as someone who feels very secure in his command and kind of reassurances the structure going down from him in turn. When Fitzy is essentially just peacocking at dinner, Little plays along with it which i think is very adorable. like im sure everyone else was hmm'ing and ahh'ing at the appropriate turns (sans crozier lol), but Little really digests the story and makes a remark that thematically bolsters Fitzy's story! like it must have felt nice to be the person making a clever comment, but it's not like he was the storyteller so there isnt an immediate social reward for making the best comment. BUT Fitzjames enjoys it! He gives Little a gay ass little poke for the comment and Little smiles to himself in a way when someone you like gives you a compliment and it kind of makes your heart soar.

And after Franklin's death when Fitzjames is like barely holding it together in the room with them all present, Little visibly reacts with pain & sympathy to Fitzjames's emotional outburst. Like everyone looks mournful, and they also seem to be quietly trying to not draw attention to the fact that Fitzjames is like on the verge of a breakdown, but when Fitzjames finally snaps Little full body flinches! He looks so sorrowful for a moment before returning to a more schooled expression, like he seems to really react specifically to Fitzjames sadness and not the group sadness in general. Idk im just yapping lmao.

anyway one-sided FitzLittle where Little kind of adores Fitzy and wants him to like him and Fitzy does but not enough because we all know Fitzjames only has eyes for old geezers. Little who watches his handsome and kind commander and likes his stories and desperately wishes to reach out and comfort him but Little is a quiet worrisome man who reminds Fitzjames too much of an insecure Crozier.

anyway mkay bye 👋🏼

[jungkoode]

Strings Attached (to my heart) #2

→ PAIRING : Spider-Man!Jungkook x F!Reader

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: February 13th, 2025.

→ SUMMARY : You were a journalist at Yonsei University when you started noticing the strange coincidences between your favorite bumbling freshman and Seoul's newest superhero. The way Spider-Man's voice cracks on 'noona' exactly like Jungkook's does. The way they both bring you the same snacks, have the same nervous energy, the same tendency to ramble when flustered. You tell yourself it's just a coincidence, because the alternative means admitting something you're absolutely not ready to deal with.

→ TAGS : second person perspective used, female pronouns used, college au, spider-man au, noona kink, slight age gap (he’s 21, she’s 24ish),, virgin jungkook, first time, inexperienced jk, sexual content, explicit content, breast play, praise kink, crying during sex, crying after sex, embarrassment kink, humiliation kink, slight dom reader x sub jungkook, pining, jungkook has a big fat crush on you, secret identity, touch starved, desperate jungkook, gentle domming, aftercare, emotional intimacy, fluff and smut, Korean setting, university setting, oral sex, oral receiving, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, face sitting, sexually inexperienced jungkook, post-coital confession, afterglow, blowjobs, swallowing, sexual education, jungkook has supportive friends, explicit sexual content, friends giving sex advice, being walked through sex, spidey stamina, tender sex, first time giving oral, first time receiving oral, learning sex, being taught sex, breast worship, nipple play, handjobs, naked cuddling, confessions, jungkook is a shy baby, soft smut, explicit nsfw, comfort and reassurance during sex, superhero secret identity reveal, bathing/washing, caretaking.

→ PLAYLIST: set the vibes.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 13.5k

→ A/N: Welcome back to part 2 of our Spidey!JK saga, where things get even steamier and somehow even more emotional?? 😭 Y'all's response to part 1 absolutely blew me away, so I had to deliver on that promise of exploring certain... scenarios... with those spider powers 👀 This part really dives into the tender dynamic between our confident noona and her adorably earnest hoobae as they navigate his first time(s) together. Fair warning: this is probably the softest explicit content I've ever written?? Like, I didn't mean to make it this emotional but here we are, sobbing over Jungkook being the most precious baby while getting railed walked through his first experiences. Special shoutout to Jimin and Taehyung for being the real MVPs with their mortifying but ultimately helpful "sex ed lesson" 😭 . Also can we talk about how Spiderkook thought he was being subtle this whole time?? Sir, you're about as subtle as a brick through a window, but it's okay because you're cute. As always, enormous thanks to my cat who encouraged me to finish this through my 7th cup of cofffee of day 6. Your enabling is appreciated 🫶 Hope you enjoy part 2 of this wholesome filth! 🕸️

→ PREVIOUS

He's trailing behind you again.

You don't even have to turn around to know it's him—his footsteps are too eager, too bouncy, like a puppy who hasn't quite figured out how to walk without tripping over its own paws. Something in your chest tightens at the familiar sound, a mix of fondness and guilt that you try to squash down.

"Noona!"

You sigh, but it's the kind of sigh that's more amused than annoyed, even if you'd never admit it. You should shut this down. You really should. After what happened in the library closet, you shouldn't be encouraging whatever this is.

"Jungkook," you say without looking back, your voice flat. "We've talked about this."

"About what?" he asks, his tone all wide-eyed innocence, like he doesn't already know.

Like he hasn't been following you around campus with those doe eyes and nervous energy ever since that day.

"About you following me around like a lost duckling," you reply dryly, finally glancing over your shoulder.

The moment you do, you regret it.

Because there he is: Jeon Jungkook, Yonsei University's most persistent freshman, clutching yet another plastic convenience store bag like it's a peace offering. His hair is a mess—floppy and windswept from the autumn breeze—and his big doe eyes are practically sparkling with excitement. He looks so young, so earnest, that it makes your stomach twist with guilt.

You're his sunbae. You should be setting boundaries, not letting yourself get caught up in the way he looks at you like you hung the moon.

"I'm not following you!" he protests immediately, though the way he trips over his own feet as he rushes to catch up kind of undermines his argument. "I just… happened to be walking this way! Totally normal! Not weird at all!"

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Right. And the snacks?"

"Oh! These?" He holds up the bag like it's Exhibit A in a court case. "They're for you!"

"Jungkook," you groan, stopping in your tracks so you can turn to face him fully. "You keep giving me snacks, and I'm gonna get fat."

The gasp he lets out is so dramatic it actually makes you laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. This is the problem—he's too endearing for his own good, making it impossible to maintain the professional distance you should.

"Noona!" he exclaims, looking genuinely horrified by the very idea. "Your weight is literally perfect! And even if you gained weight—which you're not just because I bring you snacks sometimes—"

"Every day," you interject pointedly, trying to ignore how your heart flutters at his earnest defense.

You shouldn't find it charming. You're supposed to be the mature one here.

"—you'd still be beautiful and—uh—you—it'd be okay!" he stammers, his words tumbling over each other in his rush to reassure you. His cheeks are already turning pink, and it only gets worse when he realizes what he just said out loud. "I mean—you're already—uh—"

You should stop this. Should remind him that you're his sunbae, that this kind of attention isn't appropriate.

Instead, something reckless and wanting unfurls in your chest as you watch him flounder.

"Well," you interrupt with a smirk, deciding to mess with him despite the voice in your head screaming that this is a bad idea, "if I gain weight, maybe my boobs will grow."

The way his eyes widen is almost comical.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as he struggles to find something—anything—to say that won't make this worse for him. You know you shouldn't enjoy his flustered state this much, shouldn't feel this rush of power at how easily you can reduce him to a stammering mess, but...

"Your boobs are already per—uh—ah—" He cuts himself off with a strangled noise, his face going beet red as he realizes what almost slipped out. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean—I wasn't trying to—I mean—"

The library closet flashes through your mind—his desperate sounds, the way he trembled against you, how beautifully he fell apart. You should feel worse about that than you do. Should regret taking advantage of his obvious crush.

Instead, you find yourself saying: "Jungkook."

"Yep?" His voice cracks on the word, and his big doe eyes dart between yours like he's waiting for some kind of divine punishment to rain down on him. He looks ridiculous—and ridiculously cute—and it takes everything in you not to let your fondness show too much.

You roll your eyes and snort softly, warring with yourself. The responsible thing would be to send him away, to maintain appropriate boundaries.

Instead, you hear yourself saying: "Come by my apartment tonight."

His eyes somehow get even wider. "Your… apartment?" he echoes weakly, like he can't quite believe what he just heard.

The pure shock in his expression should be a wake-up call—a reminder that you're his sunbae, that you shouldn't be inviting him into your personal space like this.

"At eight," you add anyway, watching as his brain visibly short-circuits trying to process this information. "Yeah?"

"Y-y-y-yeah," he stammers, choking on his own spit in the process because of course he does. "Your apartment? At night?"

You nod slowly, biting back a smile as his face flushes an even deeper shade of red.

There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that this is dangerous territory—that after the library incident, you should be putting distance between you, not drawing him closer.

"Okay," he says quickly, nodding along with you like some kind of bobblehead doll. "Yeah! Okay! I can—I can do that." He swallows hard, his voice strangled as he adds, "Eight o'clock. Your apartment."

He looks so flustered—so completely overwhelmed by the mere idea of being invited into your personal space—that something mischievous sparks in your chest, drowning out the guilt.

You shouldn't tease him any more than you already have today—you really shouldn't—but the way he looks at you, all eager desperation and nervous energy, makes you want to see just how far you can push him.

"Bring condoms," you say offhandedly as you turn back around and start walking again, even as your conscience screams at you that this is crossing a line.

The sound Jungkook makes is somewhere between a gasp and a choke—a strangled little noise that has you biting your lip to keep from laughing outright.

You don't have to look back to know exactly what expression he's wearing: wide-eyed panic mixed with sheer disbelief and just a hint of something else... something darker that reminds you too much of how he looked in that closet.

You should feel worse about this. Should feel guilty for teasing your hoobae like this, for playing with his obvious feelings. Instead, you find yourself turning back, unable to resist watching him fall apart.

"I—I—what?!" His voice cracks so hard on the word that it echoes slightly down the street.

He's standing there frozen in place, clutching the snack bag like it's the only thing keeping him upright.

His mouth opens and closes uselessly for several seconds before he finally manages to croak out: "Condoms?"

"You don't want to?" You tilt your head innocently, watching as his entire body stiffens at the question.

There's a twisted satisfaction in seeing how easily you can affect him, even as a small voice in your head reminds you that you're supposed to be the responsible one here.

"I want to!"

The words burst out of him so fast they practically trip over each other on their way out of his mouth—and then his eyes widen in horror as he realizes how eager that sounded.

“I mean—I—uh—yeah? Yes? I really—I really want to." He bites his lip nervously before adding in a much quieter voice: "...Please."

The way he looks at you then—like some kind of kicked puppy who just admitted all its secrets—makes heat pool in your stomach. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He's your hoobae, for fuck's sake, barely out of his military service and looking at you like you're everything he's ever wanted.

But instead of letting him off the hook (because where's the fun in that?), you raise an eyebrow and say simply: "Good."

He nods frantically at that—as if agreeing with you might somehow save him from further embarrassment—but then hesitates when something seems to occur to him.

The guilt starts creeping back in as you watch him fidget, so obviously inexperienced and eager to please.

"Noona?" His voice is soft now—almost shy—as if whatever he's about to ask might actually kill him.

"Yes?" You stop walking again and turn fully toward him, trying to ignore how your heart clenches at his nervous expression.

"Where... where can I... uh..." He trails off awkwardly before finally blurting out: "...Buy them?"

This time, you choke on your spit.

Because fuck—the reminder of just how unversed he is hits you like a punch to the gut.

You're terrible for this, for teasing him when he's so clearly out of his depth. For wanting to see him fall apart again, even knowing you should be protecting him instead of corrupting him.

"Jungkook," you say after a long moment of stunned silence, your voice softer than intended.

"Yes?" He looks at you hopefully, and god, you're going straight to hell for the things you want to do to him when he looks at you like that.

"I was joking."

The look on his face when those words sink in is priceless—a mix of disappointment and relief so intense it almost makes you feel bad for teasing him this much.

Almost.

Because underneath that relief, you can see it—the way his eyes darken slightly, the subtle shift in his posture that tells you he wanted it to be real.

"...Oh," he says softly after another long pause, and something in his tone makes your chest flutter.

"But not about coming over tonight!" You call back as you start walking again, before you can do something stupid like take it back. Before you can give in to the urge to tell him you weren't entirely joking after all. "Bring me jajjangmyeon!"

Behind you comes another strangled noise—and then hurried footsteps as Jungkook scrambles after you once again.

"Noona!"

You keep walking, trying to ignore the way your heart races.

Jungkook bangs his head against the wall of Taehyung's apartment, each thud punctuating his words: "I. Hate. My. Self."

"Why?" Taehyung doesn't even look up from his game controller, thumbs moving rapidly as he dodges an attack on screen. "You're gonna get laid."

"Finally," Jimin adds helpfully from his spot on the floor, leaning back against the couch as he mashes buttons. "About time someone popped that cherry—"

"It's NOT like that!" Jungkook's voice cracks embarrassingly, and he seriously considers webbing both their mouths shut. Why does he have friends? Who allowed this? "She just wants to hang out!"

"At night?" Taehyung snorts, still focused on the game. "In her apartment?"

"Alone?" Jimin adds, grinning as his character lands a critical hit. "Just the two of you?"

"She literally said she was joking!" Jungkook protests, sliding down the wall until he's sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest like some kind of oversized puppy. "About the... you know."

"The condoms?" Taehyung supplies helpfully.

"Shut up!"

"Maybe," Jimin says thoughtfully, pausing the game to turn and look at Jungkook properly, "she was joking about joking."

Jungkook freezes. "No way."

"Yes way."

"...You think so?" And god, he hates how hopeful his voice sounds. How pathetically eager.

"Bro," Taehyung says, finally setting down his controller to fix Jungkook with a look. "You already nutted in your pants grinding against her in a library closet."

"DIE." Jungkook buries his face in his hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. "I hate you. I hate both of you. So much."

"I mean," Jimin continues, completely unbothered by Jungkook's death threats, "she obviously knows you want her. Like, it's not exactly a secret."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jungkook peeks through his fingers, suspicious.

"Dude." Taehyung gives him a flat look. "You follow her around like a lost puppy."

"I do not—"

"You bring her snacks every day—"

"That's just being nice!"

"You literally stalk her as Spider-Man—"

"I'm PROTECTING her!"

"From what?" Jimin snorts. "Paper cuts? Bad coffee? The dangers of journalism?"

Jungkook makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "I hate this conversation. Can we go back to you two failing at Mario Kart?"

"Nope," Taehyung says cheerfully, turning to face him fully now. "This is way more entertaining. So, what are you gonna wear?"

"What?" Jungkook blinks. "What do you mean, what am I gonna wear? Clothes?"

Jimin and Taehyung exchange a look that makes Jungkook's stomach drop.

"Oh no," Jimin says slowly. "No, no, no. You are not showing up to your potential deflowering wearing your usual disaster outfit."

"My WHAT—"

"The oversized hoodie and ripped jeans combo," Taehyung clarifies. "It's cute for class, but for this? Absolutely not."

"I'm not getting deflowered!" Jungkook protests, his voice reaching a pitch that probably only dogs can hear. "She just wants jajjangmyeon!"

"Right," Jimin drawls. "Because girls always invite guys over at night for noodles."

"Some do!"

"Name one time—"

"I don't have to name anything! This isn't—she's not—we're not—" Jungkook makes a frustrated noise, running his hands through his hair until it's sticking up in all directions. "She probably just wants to talk about Spider-Man again."

Another loaded look passes between his friends.

"What?" Jungkook asks suspiciously.

"Nothing," they say in unison, which is never a good sign.

"What?!"

"It's just..." Taehyung starts carefully. "Maybe she wants to... confirm her suspicions?"

Jungkook's blood runs cold. "What suspicions?"

"You know..." Jimin waves his hand vaguely. "About your... nighttime activities?"

"My what—OH." Jungkook's eyes widen in horror. "Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh god. You think she's gonna—"

"Interrogate you?" Taehyung supplies helpfully. "Probably."

"While you're vulnerable?" Jimin adds with a grin. "Most likely."

"Post-orgasm?" Taehyung continues. "When your guard is down?"

"I'm going to throw up," Jungkook announces, pulling his knees tighter to his chest. "I'm actually going to be sick."

"Relax," Jimin says, reaching over to pat his knee sympathetically. "Maybe she just wants to fuck you."

"That's not relaxing!" Jungkook squeaks. "That's the opposite of relaxing! That's—that's—"

"Hot?" Taehyung suggests.

"Exciting?" Jimin adds.

"Terrifying," Jungkook corrects weakly. "What if I... what if I'm bad at it?"

Another loaded silence fills the room.

"Well," Taehyung says slowly, "you've already set the bar pretty low with the closet incident—"

"I'm leaving." Jungkook starts to stand up, but Jimin grabs his arm and yanks him back down.

"No, you're not," Jimin says firmly. "You're going to sit here and let us help you not completely fuck this up."

"I don't need help!"

"You came in your pants from some light grinding."

"That was—it wasn't—she said it was cute!"

"And that's great," Taehyung says patiently. "But maybe this time we aim for something a little more... impressive?"

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thud. "I hate this. I hate all of this. Why couldn't I just be normal?"

"Normal is overrated," Jimin says sagely. "Now, about those clothes..."

"We're not having this conversation."

"We absolutely are," Taehyung declares, standing up. "Come on, let's raid my closet. You're not showing up looking like a freshman who just rolled out of bed."

"But I am a freshman who just rolled out of bed!"

"Not tonight, you're not," Jimin says, grabbing Jungkook's other arm to haul him up. "Tonight, you're going to look like someone who might actually know what to do with a woman."

"But I don't know what to do with a woman!"

"That's what we're here for," Taehyung says cheerfully, already heading toward his bedroom. "Sex Ed with Taehyung and Jimin, now in session!"

"Kill me," Jungkook mutters, but he lets himself be dragged along anyway. "Just... someone please kill me."

"After you get laid," Jimin promises. "Now, let's talk about foreplay..."

The noise Jungkook makes is probably audible from space.

But then he’s sitting cross-legged on Taehyung's bed, face buried in his hands as his friends settle on either side of him.

The game controllers lie abandoned on the floor, forgotten in favor of what Taehyung has dubbed "Operation: Don't Let Jungkook Embarrass Himself (Again)."

"Okay," Jimin says, his tone shifting from teasing to something more serious. "First rule: stop overthinking."

"I'm not—"

"You are," Taehyung cuts in gently. "We can literally see you spiraling. Your whole face does this thing when you're in your head too much."

"What thing?" Jungkook peeks through his fingers suspiciously.

"Like you're trying to solve quantum physics while having an existential crisis," Jimin explains. "It's not cute."

Jungkook groans. "How am I supposed to not overthink? She's—she's her, and I'm just—"

"A superhero?" Taehyung supplies helpfully.

"That's different! That's not—I mean—" Jungkook makes a frustrated noise. "Spider-Man is cool. I'm not cool. I'm just... me."

"And she likes you," Jimin says firmly. "Not Spider-Man. Well, maybe Spider-Man too, but she doesn't know that yet. She likes awkward, rambling, snack-bringing you."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Taehyung says patiently, "girls don't usually let guys they're not into grind against them in library closets."

"Can we please stop bringing that up?"

"No, because it's important," Jimin insists. "She initiated that. She guided your hands. She told you it was okay. That means she's attracted to you."

Jungkook swallows hard, his face heating up at the memory. "But what if... what if she expects me to know what I'm doing now?"

"Then be honest," Taehyung says simply. "Tell her you're nervous. Tell her you want her to show you what she likes."

"Girls love that shit," Jimin adds. "Being all vulnerable and asking for guidance? That's hot."

"Really?" Jungkook looks between them skeptically.

"Really," they say in unison.

"Plus," Taehyung continues, "she already knows you're inexperienced. And she still wants you there. That means something."

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip nervously. "Okay, but... what if... what if I..." He trails off, face burning.

"What if you what?"

"What if I... finish too fast again?" The last words come out as barely a whisper.

"Then you use your mouth," Jimin says matter-of-factly.

Jungkook chokes on air. "My what?"

"Your mouth," Taehyung repeats calmly. "Seriously, learn to eat pussy. It's like, the number one life skill."

"Oh my god." Jungkook falls backward onto the bed, covering his face with both hands. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"Better us than you figuring it out on your own," Jimin points out. "Now sit up. This is important."

"I don't want to."

"Jungkook."

"No."

"Fine," Taehyung sighs. "Then we'll just let you go in blind and probably accidentally bite her cl—"

"OKAY!" Jungkook bolts upright. "Okay, I'm listening. Just... please be less graphic."

"No can do," Jimin says cheerfully. "This is detailed instruction time. Now, the most important thing to remember is—"

What follows is possibly the most mortifying yet educational thirty minutes of Jungkook's life. His friends, for all their teasing, are actually... helpful. They explain things clearly, answer his (extremely embarrassing) questions without judgment, and even draw diagrams that make him want to die but also kind of make sense.

"And remember," Taehyung says finally, "it's okay to laugh if something awkward happens. Sex isn't like porn. It's messy and weird sometimes."

"And communication is key," Jimin adds. "If you're not sure about something, ask. If something feels good, say so. If something doesn't, speak up."

Jungkook nods slowly, processing everything. "Okay. Yeah. I can... I can do that."

"And for fuck's sake," Taehyung says, "breathe. You look like you're about to pass out."

"I might," Jungkook admits weakly. "This is... a lot."

"It is," Jimin agrees, patting his knee. "But you've got this. And hey, maybe nothing will happen tonight. Maybe she really does just want to eat jajjangmyeon and talk."

"Right," Jungkook says, though his voice wavers slightly. "Just... normal hanging out."

"But if something does happen," Taehyung adds with a grin, "at least now you know where the clit is."

"I hate you both so much."

"You love us," Jimin corrects. "Now, about those clothes..."

Jungkook flops back onto the bed with another groan, but this time, it's less panicked and more resigned. Because yeah, okay, maybe his friends are right. Maybe this won't be a complete disaster.

Maybe.

Probably.

Oh god, he's going to throw up.

"Stop spiraling," Taehyung says immediately. "I can see you doing it."

"I'm not spiraling!" Jungkook protests. "I'm just... mentally preparing."

"For what? The worst possible scenario?"

"Yes!"

"Which is?" Jimin prompts.

"I don't know! Everything? What if I trip and break her lamp? What if I say something stupid? What if I accidentally web her ceiling fan? What if—"

"Okay, new rule," Taehyung interrupts. "No spider powers in the bedroom unless explicitly discussed beforehand."

"Oh my god."

"He's right though," Jimin says thoughtfully. "Save the web-shooting for later. That's like, advanced kink territory."

"I'm leaving," Jungkook announces for the hundredth time. "I'm actually leaving this time."

"No, you're not," they say in unison, each grabbing one of his arms to keep him in place.

"We still haven't picked out your outfit," Taehyung reminds him.

"Or talked about protection," Jimin adds.

"Or—"

"Fine!" Jungkook throws his hands up in defeat. "Fine. Just... please stop saying 'web-shooting' in relation to... that."

His friends exchange matching grins that make him immediately regret everything.

"No promises," they say together.

Jungkook screams into a pillow.

The doorbell rings, loud and obnoxious, startling you out of your focus.

You pause mid-sentence, fingers hovering over your laptop's keyboard as you glance toward the door. When did the bell get so loud? It's like it's mocking you for forgetting—or pretending to forget—that you invited him over.

You sigh, pulling off your headphones and letting them rest around your neck as you shuffle toward the door.

Your bunny slippers scuff softly against the floor, and you tug at the hem of your tank top absentmindedly. You're not exactly dressed to impress—grey sweats, a loose tank top, hair probably a mess—but whatever. It's your apartment. Comfort trumps everything else.

(Though a small voice in your head reminds you that maybe you should've put on something less... revealing. Something that doesn't show quite so much skin, doesn't blur the lines between sunbae and…)

You open the door, and there he is.

Jeon Jungkook, standing in the hallway in his own grey sweats and an oversized hoodie, looking like he just stepped out of a cozy loungewear ad. His hair is slightly damp, curling at the ends like he'd rushed to shower before coming over. He's holding a plastic bag in one hand, and his other is shoved awkwardly into his pocket. For some reason, he's staring off to the side, like he's too nervous to look directly at the door.

But then his gaze shifts—quickly, immediately—and lands on you. And just like that, it's like all the tension in his body melts away. His shoulders drop slightly, and there's this soft little exhale that escapes him as his lips curve into a sheepish smile. The pure relief in his expression makes your stomach twist with guilt.

"Brought jajjangmyon as you requested, noona," he says, holding up the bag like it's some kind of peace offering.

The way he says "noona," all shy and reverent like it's some sacred title only meant for you—it shouldn't make your chest feel warm, but it does. It really shouldn't.

You bite back both a smile and the urge to tell him to go home, to forget about whatever this thing between you is becoming. Instead, you step aside to let him in, watching as he hesitates for half a second before shuffling past you into the apartment, his sneakers squeaking softly against the floor.

You close the door behind him and turn to find him standing awkwardly near the entrance, clutching the bag like it's a lifeline. His eyes dart around your apartment—taking in the cluttered desk with your laptop still open, the half-empty mug of coffee on the table, the blanket draped over the back of your couch—but they always seem to come back to you.

Like he can't help himself, like you're some kind of magnet he can't resist.

And then there's this moment—a brief flicker—where his gaze lowers slightly, catching on your tank top and sweats. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you notice it anyway. The way his jaw tightens just a fraction before he quickly looks away again, like he's afraid of being caught staring.

It reminds you too much of how he looked in that closet, all desperate want and nervous energy.

He clears his throat. "Uh... nice place."

You snort softly, trying to ignore the way your skin prickles under his gaze. "It's a mess."

"It's cozy," he says earnestly, and when he looks at you again, there's something warm in his eyes.

Something that makes you want to push him away before you do something stupid like pull him closer.

You shake off the feeling and motion for him to follow you further inside.

"C'mon," you say over your shoulder as you walk toward your desk, needing distance. "I need some help with something."

"With what?" he asks immediately, trailing after you like an obedient puppy.

Always so eager to please, so ready to do anything you ask. It would be easier if he wasn't so genuine about it.

You glance back at him briefly and smirk, falling back on teasing because it's safer than acknowledging whatever happened. "Carrying all this food to my desk."

His lips twitch upward into another sheepish smile as he holds up the bag again. "I can do that."

Of course he can.

You roll your eyes but don't say anything else as you plop back down into your chair and gesture for him to set everything on the table beside your laptop. You need to focus on something—anything—other than how domestic this feels, how naturally he fits into your space.

As he unpacks the containers of jajjangmyon with meticulous care—like each one is some kind of precious artifact—you can't help but watch him out of the corner of your eye. There's something about seeing him here—in your space—that feels... different.

Dangerous.

Like this is some kind of alternate universe where Jeon Jungkook isn't just that awkward freshman who follows you around campus with snacks and stammered compliments but someone who actually belongs here.

It's stupid. You know it is. But still.

"You didn't have to bring all this," you say finally, breaking the silence as he sets down a pair of chopsticks beside one of the containers. Your voice comes out sharper than intended, an edge of defensiveness creeping in.

"You asked for it," he replies simply, glancing up at you with those wide doe eyes of his.

Always so earnest, so sincere. It makes something in your chest ache.

"I was joking."

"I know." He smiles softly—just barely—but there's something about it that makes your guilt surge.

“Then why’d you bring it?”

“Because…” He hesitates for half a second before shrugging lightly. “Because I wanted to.”

There's something so simple—so pure—about his answer that it catches you off guard for a moment. You don't know what to say to that, so instead, you just grab one of the containers and pop it open with a quiet "thanks," trying to ignore how your hands shake slightly.

He sits down across from you without being asked—like this is normal now—and starts unpacking his own food while sneaking occasional glances at you when he thinks you're not looking. Each glance feels like a weight on your conscience, reminding you how badly you're handling this whole situation.

The silence stretches between you as you both eat, broken only by the soft clicking of chopsticks against containers.

Something’s... off.

Jungkook's usually endless chatter is conspicuously absent, replaced by this heavy quiet that makes your skin crawl.

You glance up from your food to find him staring intently at his container, his fingers fidgeting with the chopsticks like he's trying to work up the courage to say something.

There's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before, a nervousness that reminds you too much of how he looked in that closet, and—

Oh.

Oh.

The guilt hits you like a slap on the fucking face.

Because what kind of sunbae are you? Getting off on making your hoobae squirm? Letting him grind against you until he came in his pants? Who even are you? Was it worth the power trip?

God, you’re insane. You are out of your depth. You are disgusting.

And now he's sitting here, all quiet and nervous, probably thinking about it too, probably wondering if you're going to acknowledge it or pretend it never happened and—

Something ugly and defensive rises in your chest, a need to push him away before he gets too close. Before you can fuck this up any more than you already have.

"So," you start, your voice deliberately casual as you type random nonsense just to look busy. Your fingers move across the keyboard without purpose, just needing something to focus on besides the way he keeps sneaking glances at you. "Did you tell your friends about our little encounter?"

Jungkook chokes on his noodles, face immediately flushing red. "I—what?"

"You know," you continue, still not looking at him because you can't handle those doe eyes right now. "The closet thing. Did you brag about it? Tell all your freshman friends how you got felt up by a senior?"

God, you sound cruel even to your own ears. But it's better this way, right? Better to push him away now before this gets even more complicated. Before you let yourself get used to having him in your space, all soft smiles and eager eyes.

"N-no!" he stammers, sounding horrified. "I wouldn't—I mean, I did tell Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung, but—"

"Of course you did," you cut him off with a sharp laugh that doesn't sound like you at all. "Bet they were impressed, huh? Their baby Jungkookie getting action in the library?"

His breath hitches audibly, and you hate how the sound makes your chest tight. You're doing this for his own good, you remind yourself. He deserves better than some senior who gets off on making him cry.

"It wasn't like that," he says quietly, and you can hear the hurt in his voice. "I just... I needed advice—"

"Advice?" You finally look at him, raising an eyebrow even as your nails dig into your palms. "What kind of advice? How to last longer than three minutes?"

The moment the words leave your mouth, you see him physically flinch. His eyes go wide, glassy with unshed tears, and something in your chest fractures.

You're the worst. The absolute worst.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice cracking. "I didn't mean to—I know I was pathetic—"

"Stop," you say immediately, panic rising in your throat because you can see it coming—the way his lips tremble, the way he's looking at you with such raw emotion.

Don't say it. Please don't say it.

But he's already spiraling, words tumbling out between hiccupping breaths: "I know I'm inexperienced and awkward and probably really bad at everything, but I—I really like you, noona, and I—"

"What's next?" You spit out, desperate to stop the confession you don't deserve, nails drawing blood from your palms now. "Gonna cry? Beg? Whimper noona until I take pity on you?" A harsh laugh scrapes your throat. "What would you even do if I told you to get on your knees right now?"

Silence.

You snort, turning back to your laptop, relief flooding through you because finally, finally he's going to realize what a terrible person you are and—

Fabric rustles. The soft thud of denim hitting floorboards. Your fingers freeze over the keyboard.

He kneels between your spread legs, palms on his thighs. The overhead light catches the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"Okay."

Your pulse thunders. "Okay what?"

"However you want me." His voice quivers but doesn't break. "However you need."

The cursor blinks mockingly on screen. You suddenly can't remember your Wi-Fi password. Your thesis topic. Your own name.

"What are you doing?" Your voice comes out strangled.

"You asked," he whispers, voice trembling but determined. "If I would get on my knees for you, noona."

"I was being cruel," you say quickly, but your mouth feels dry. "I was trying to hurt you."

"I know." His hands shake where they rest on his thighs, tears tracking down his cheeks. "But I'd still... I'd still do anything. Even if you're just being mean. Even if you're trying to push me away."

Your breath catches. "Jungkook—"

"I bought them," he blurts out suddenly, face burning red. "The condoms. Even though—even though you said you were joking. I just... just in case. Because I wanted—I wanted to be ready if you..." He hiccups, more tears spilling over. "If you ever actually wanted me."

The guilt chokes you. "Stop it."

"Please don't push me away," he begs, voice cracking as he shifts closer, forehead pressing against your knee. "I know I'm pathetic. I know I'm just some stupid freshman who came in his pants the first time you touched him, but I—I can't stop thinking about you. About how good you made me feel. About how much I want to make you feel good too."

You stare at him, caught off guard by his desperate honesty. "You don't know what you want."

"I do," he insists, looking up at you through wet lashes. "I think about you all the time. When I'm alone, I—" He cuts himself off with a hiccup, shame coloring his cheeks. "I touch myself thinking about your hands. Your voice. How you said I was good for you."

A broken noise escapes you—something between a laugh and a sob. "Jungkook, we can't—"

"I'll be better," he promises frantically, hands hovering near your thighs like he's afraid to touch. "I'll last longer. I'll learn how to... how to please you properly. Just please don't—don't regret what happened. Don't hate me for wanting you so much."

You drop your head into your hands, overwhelmed by his raw honesty. He's still crying, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed sobs as he kneels before you like some kind of devoted supplicant.

"I practiced," he confesses in a broken whisper, and you can hear how much it costs him to admit this. "After... after the closet. Trying to—to last longer. Because I was so embarrassed about... about how fast I..." He hiccups, pressing his burning face against your knee. "Jimin-hyung and Tae-hyung, they tried to help. Gave me advice. Told me how to... how to be good for you."

"Jesus, Jungkook," you breathe, because what are you supposed to say to that?

"I know it's stupid," he rushes out, words tumbling over each other between hiccups. "I know you probably think I'm just some dumb kid with a crush, but it's more than that. You make me feel... you make me feel like I could be good enough. Like maybe being inexperienced isn't... isn't the worst thing in the world."

Your fingers find their way into his hair without permission, and the broken sound he makes at the contact nearly kills you. He leans into your touch like he's starving for it, tears still flowing freely.

"When you touched me," he continues, voice barely above a whisper, "in the closet... it was the first time anyone ever... and you were so gentle. So patient. Even though I was pathetic and came too fast and probably squeezed your breast too hard—"

"Stop calling yourself pathetic," you interrupt, tugging gently at his hair until he looks up at you. His face is a mess of tears and vulnerability, and something in your chest breaks. "God, Jungkook. You weren't pathetic. You were adorable."

He makes this wounded sound, like your words physically hurt him. "But I—I ruined it. Made it weird. Got too desperate and needy and—"

"That's what made it beautiful," you admit softly, thumbs brushing away his tears. "How honest you were. How much you wanted it. Wanted me."

His breath hitches, fresh tears spilling over. "I still do," he whispers. "Want you. So much it hurts sometimes. Even if you're being mean, even if you're trying to push me away... I just want to be close to you."

Your hands tremble slightly as you cup his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. His skin is feverish under your palms, tears still flowing freely as he looks up at you with those devastating doe eyes.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, watching as he blinks in confusion. "For being cruel earlier. I just... I felt so guilty. About taking advantage of you. About wanting you when I shouldn't."

"You weren't," he says immediately, desperately. "Taking advantage. I wanted it so bad, noona. Still want it. Want anything you'll give me." His voice cracks on another hiccup. "Even if—even if it's just this. Just letting me be close to you."

"Jungkook..." Your thumbs brush away fresh tears, but they're quickly replaced by more.

"I know I'm not good enough," words spilling out between quiet sobs. "Know I should probably be with someone my own age. Someone who won't have to teach me everything. But I—I want it to be you. Want you to show me how to... how to make you feel good. How to be what you need."

Your heart clenches at his words, at how earnestly he offers himself up to you.

“Baby," the endearment slips out again, making him shudder. "You don't have to try so hard."

"I want to," he insists, hands finally settling on your thighs, grip trembling but determined. "Want to learn everything. How to touch you. How to... how to use my mouth. How to make you cum. Please, noona."

His voice breaks on the honorific, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

"I like you so much. So—so much it hurts. Can't focus in class because I keep thinking about you. Can't sleep because I keep remembering how you touched me, how you looked at me like I wasn't just some stupid freshman."

"Jungkook—"

"Please don't tell me to stay away," he chokes out, panic clear in his voice. "I know I should. Know it's wrong because you're my sunbae and I'm just—just me, but I can't. I can't." His fingers dig into your thighs desperately. "I'll do anything. Be anything you want. Just please don't push me away."

Your heart aches at how broken he sounds, at the raw desperation in his voice. "Baby..."

"I dream about you," he confesses in a rush, like he's afraid you'll stop him. "About—about your hands. Your voice. The way you said I was good for you. Nobody's ever—nobody's made me feel like that before. Like I’m good enough. Just Jungkook.”

He's rambling now, words tumbling out between hiccups and sobs. "I know I'm probably terrible at everything. Know I should've lasted longer, should've touched you better, should've—should've been more in control but I couldn't. Can't think straight when you look at me like that. When you call me 'baby' and touch my hair and—"

You can't take it anymore. Can't handle how earnest he is, how desperately he's trying to convince you not to reject him. Your hands slide from his tear-stained cheeks into his hair, and he makes this broken little sound that goes straight to your heart.

"Noona," he whimpers, looking up at you through wet lashes. "Please."

You lean down, your heart thundering in your chest as you press your lips to his.

It's soft at first—tender, careful, like you're afraid he might shatter if you push too hard. His lips are warm and slightly salty from tears, trembling against yours as he makes this tiny, desperate sound in the back of his throat.

When his mouth parts on a shaky exhale, you can't help but deepen the kiss. Your tongue slides against his, and the way he gasps—soft and surprised, like he can't believe this is happening—makes heat pool in your stomach. His hands clench against your thighs, fingers trembling with nervous energy as he tries to match your rhythm.

God, he's so fucking precious. So earnest in the way he responds, letting you guide him with gentle pressure and encouraging hums. When you thread your fingers through his hair, he whimpers into your mouth, tears still tracking down his cheeks even as he kisses you back with clumsy enthusiasm.

You press harder, something possessive and hungry unfurling in your chest at how pliant he is, how desperately he tries to please you. Your other hand cups his jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further, and he just melts for you. His mouth is sweet and eager, and you want to fucking devour him—want to swallow every little hiccupping sob and breathy moan he makes.

You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He's your hoobae, for fuck's sake—this eager, crying freshman who looks at you like you hung the moon. But the way he trembles under your touch, the way he gives himself over so completely... it makes you want to wreck him. To take him apart piece by piece until he's sobbing for an entirely different reason.

When you finally pull back, he chases your lips with a broken whine that goes straight to your core. His eyes flutter open, glazed and desperate, tears still clinging to his lashes like diamonds.

"Noona," he breathes, and his voice is wrecked—all raw and pleading in a way that makes you want to kiss him stupid again.

You shouldn't.

You really, really shouldn't.

But god help you, you do.

Jungkook's brain is absolutely short-circuiting.

Like, full system failure, blue screen of death, please-restart-your-computer levels of malfunction.

Because this? This can't be real. This has to be some kind of fever dream or maybe he hit his head on the way over here because there's no way—absolutely no fucking way—that you just kissed him.

But you did. You actually did. Your lips were on his, soft and warm and real, and now he's kneeling here like an idiot, staring up at you with what he's sure is the most pathetic expression ever because holy fuck.

He hadn't expected any of this. Really. After the whole teasing thing earlier (and the mortifying sex ed session with Taehyung and Jimin), he'd convinced himself nothing would happen. That's why he wore his comfy clothes—his safe clothes—even though yeah, okay, maybe he did buy condoms. Just in case. Because he's pathetic and hopeful and maybe a tiny part of him wanted to believe...

But no. He was fine with just bringing jajjangmyon. More than fine. He would've been happy just sitting here, watching you work, existing in the same space as you. That would've been enough.

Then you started pushing him away, and he just... broke. Started crying like some kind of oversized baby because apparently that's who he is now—someone who sobs at the first sign of rejection.

God, he's such a mess. Such an absolute disaster of a human being.

He apologized (between hiccups and tears because of course he did), but then you apologized too, and then—and then—you kissed him. You actually kissed him. With your mouth. On his mouth. While he was crying. Which should be embarrassing (it is embarrassing), but he can't even care because holy shit, you kissed him.

And now you're looking at him with this expression he can't quite read, your hands cradling his face like he's something precious instead of just some awkward freshman who can't keep his emotions in check.

"Stand up," you murmur, thumbs brushing away the remnants of his tears.

He scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process because apparently his body has forgotten how legs work. His knees protest after kneeling for so long, and he sways slightly, hands hovering awkwardly at his sides because he doesn't know what to do with them.

Should he touch you? Is he allowed to touch you? What are the rules here? Is there a manual for this? Why didn't Taehyung and Jimin cover proper post-crying makeout etiquette in their weird sex ed lesson?

"Breathe," you remind him softly, and oh—right. That's a thing he should probably be doing.

He takes a shaky breath, then another, trying to calm his racing heart as you look up at him with those eyes that make him feel like he's simultaneously floating and drowning.

This is real. This is actually happening. Somehow, his pathetic, crying, disaster self has achieved... something. He's not sure what exactly, but something.

And he really, really hopes he doesn't fuck it up.

His tears haven't quite stopped—because of course they haven't, he's a walking emotional disaster—when you look up at him from your chair. His breath catches in his throat, expecting... well, he doesn't know what he's expecting. More kissing maybe? You to stand up? To tell him to stop being such a crybaby?

What he's definitely not expecting is for you to slide out of your chair and onto your knees in front of him.

His brain short-circuits completely when your hands find his hips, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his sweats. A gasp escapes him—embarrassingly high-pitched and needy—because holy fuck, are you—is this—what is happening?

You look up at him through your lashes, and his heart actually stops. "Is this okay?" you ask softly, thumbs rubbing circles against his hipbones through the fabric.

He nods so fast he probably gives himself whiplash, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks because he can't seem to get his body under control. Words fail him entirely—his vocabulary reduced to a series of choked sounds as you hook your fingers into the waistband of both his sweats and boxers.

Oh god.

Oh fuck.

This is actually happening. This is—

The fabric slides down his thighs, and Jungkook wants to die immediately because his dick is already hard. Like, embarrassingly hard. Because apparently his body is determined to humiliate him at every possible opportunity today.

A strangled whimper escapes him as cool air hits his exposed skin. His hands flutter uselessly at his sides, trembling with the effort not to cover himself as more tears track down his burning cheeks.

He's never felt more exposed in his life—standing here with his pants around his thighs, dick straining eagerly toward you like some kind of desperate compass pointing true north.

God, could he be any more obvious? Any more pathetic?

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, voice cracking. "I—it just—you just—"

“You’re okay.”

Your words are so gentle, so soothing, that it only makes Jungkook cry harder. Because how can you be this understanding? This tender with someone like him who can't even stop sobbing long enough to form coherent sentences?

But then—oh god—your thumb brushes against the underside of his cock, a slow, deliberate stroke from tip to base that makes his entire body shudder. And when you squeeze softly, testing, exploring? His knees nearly buckle.

He watches, transfixed, as your hand glides up and down his length with careful precision. Slow, so, so slow. The movement is hypnotic, making his breath catch on every upstroke, forcing tiny whimpers past his lips that he tries desperately to muffle behind his hand.

"Eyes on me," you command softly, and his gaze snaps to yours immediately.

His chest heaves with hiccupping sobs, tears still falling freely as he tries to process that this is real—that you're actually touching him, that this isn't just another fevered fantasy. His free hand hovers awkwardly in the air, unsure where it's allowed to land.

You chuckle—a warm, tender sound that makes his heart flip—and murmur, "Don't hold back those pretty sounds, baby. And here..." You guide his hovering hand to your hair. "Hold onto me if you need support."

The permission—both to touch and to be vocal—makes him whimper pathetically. His fingers thread shakily through your hair, careful and reverent, like he still can't quite believe he's allowed this.

"That's it," you encourage softly. "Just like that."

He can barely breathe as you maintain eye contact, your hand working him in slow, deliberate strokes that make his thighs tremble. Every touch feels electric—too much and not enough all at once.

"I'm s-sorry," he chokes out between sobs, fingers tightening reflexively in your hair. "For the—hic—crying, I can't—hic—stop—"

"Shh," you soothe, your free hand stroking his hip. "You're being so good for me."

The praise makes him whimper, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. His cock twitches in your grip, already leaking precum, and he feels his face burn hotter with embarrassment.

"Noona," he whines, voice cracking. "I'm—hic—I'm already so—"

"I know, baby," you murmur, and then your tongue flicks out to taste the bead of precum at his tip.

The noise he makes is absolutely wrecked—somewhere between a sob and a moan. His hips jerk forward instinctively before he catches himself, mortified.

"S-sorry! I didn't mean to—hic—to—"

"It's okay," you assure him, looking up through your lashes. "You can move if you need to."

He shakes his head frantically, still hiccupping. "Don't wanna—hic—hurt you—"

Your response is to take him into your mouth properly, and Jungkook's entire world narrows to the welcoming heat of your tongue sliding against his length. His legs shake so hard he has to grip your hair tighter just to stay upright.

"Oh god," he sobs, watching through tear-blurred vision as you take him deeper. "Oh fuck, noona, I can't—hic—it's too much—"

You hum around him in response, and the vibration makes his whole body shudder. He's babbling now, unable to stop the stream of desperate praise and broken pleas falling from his lips between hiccups.

"So good," he whimpers, "you're so—hic—perfect, I can't—please—hic—noona—"

Jungkook’s brain is mush. Absolute, scrambled, incoherent mush.

Because he’s seen porn—obviously he’s seen porn, military barracks aren’t exactly monasteries—but nothing could’ve prepared him for the reality of your mouth on him. The heat, the suction, the way your tongue swirls just beneath his tip every time you pull back—it’s obscene.

He’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating. Or dying. Or both.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, a choked sob tearing from his throat as you take him deeper.

“N-noona—hic—’m sorry, I can’t—hic—can’t hold—”

You pull off with a filthy pop, and he nearly collapses right there.

But then you’re looking up at him, lips glistening, and saying the words that unravel him completely: “It’s okay, Jungkook-ah. Noona wants to taste you.”

His vision whites out for a second. You want to taste him. Want him. His pathetic, trembling, overeager self. 

The thought alone makes his cock twitch desperately, more precum beading at the tip as he fights the urge to just—

"Please," he chokes out between hiccups, his filter completely gone. "Can I—hic—down your throat? Please, noona, I've wanted—hic—for so long—"

Oh god. Oh fuck. Did he really just say that out loud?

Taehyung and Jimin's voices echo in his head—focus on her comfort, ask what she wants, don't be selfish—but his horny brain has completely taken over, reducing him to this desperate, begging mess.

"I'm s-sorry," he stammers immediately, mortified tears streaming down his face. "That was—hic—so stupid, I shouldn't have—you don't have to—"

Then you swallow him back down, all the way to the hilt, and his brain restarts completely.

"F-fuck—hic—noona—" His voice breaks as his orgasm builds, violent and overwhelming. His grip on your hair tightens, probably painful (god, he's the worst, he's so fucking inconsiderate, he should let go, should—). "I'm c-cumming—hic—'m so sorry, I'm—hic—ah—!"

He tries to pull back, he really does, but you hold him in place, humming around him like this is exactly what you wanted.

His vision blurs with tears as he comes harder than he ever has in his life, a broken groan tearing from his throat that would normally send him into a spiral of embarrassment.

Stupid stupid stupid, his brain chants as he shakes through the aftershocks. So fucking selfish. So desperate. She probably thinks you're disgusting. Probably hates you now. Probably—

But then you're looking up at him through your lashes, swallowing deliberately, and his spiral breaks at the soft, approving sound you make. Like this is good.

Like he's good.

Your laugh—warm and tender—cuts through his panic as you pull off to press a gentle kiss to his sensitive tip.

"That's exactly what I wanted," you murmur, and his heart stops completely.

God help him.

Jungkook wipes at his tears with the back of his wrist, sniffling softly as he tries to gather what's left of his courage. His voice is still shaky, still thick with tears, but there's a determination in it that surprises even him:

"Please let me—hic—eat you out," he manages, his face burning but his gaze steady. "Want to make you feel good too. You've done it twice for me now, it's not—it's not fair."

"Jungkook," you start gently, "I'm fine, you don't owe me—"

"It's not about owing," he interrupts, surprising himself with his boldness. His hands tremble, but his voice stays firm despite the lingering hiccups. "It's not fair that—hic—that you get to taste me and I don't get to taste you."

The words come out needier than he intended, more desperate, and he feels his face heat further. But he doesn't take them back. Can't take them back. Not when he's wanted this for so long—wanted to know what you taste like, what sounds you'd make, if you'd guide him with your hands in his hair like you did in the closet.

"Please, noona," he whispers, eyes wide and earnest despite the tears still clinging to his lashes. "Let me try? I—hic—I'll do whatever you tell me to. I'll be good, I promise."

Your eyebrows shoot up, surprise evident on your face, and Jungkook realizes you'd misunderstood—thought he meant it wasn't fair to you, when really... god, how could he explain that getting to taste you would be the biggest privilege of his life?

A soft chuckle escapes you, warm and amused. "Since when are you so bold, young mister?"

His face burns hotter, but he doesn't back down. Can't back down. Not when the thought of tasting you is making his head spin with want.

"Since—hic—since you let me have something I never thought I'd get," he admits, voice wavering but sincere. "And now I just... want more."

The last word comes out embarrassingly needy, but he's beyond caring at this point.

"More?" you echo, that amused smile still playing at your lips.

"Everything," he breathes, the word tumbling out before he can stop it. "Anything you'll give me. Please, noona. I just—I want to know what you taste like. Want to make you feel good like you made me feel good. Want to—hic—learn how to please you properly."

Your expression softens at his earnestness, at how desperately he's trying to convey just how much he wants this—wants you.

"You really want to taste me that badly?" you ask, standing up and pushing back the strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

He nods frantically, leaning into your touch like a touch-starved kitten. "More than—hic—anything. Please?"

The way he says 'please'—all breathy and desperate—makes something in your expression shift. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip, and he parts them instinctively, wanting to show you just how eager he is to learn.

"Such a good boy," you murmur, and his whole body shudders at the praise. "Always so polite when you beg."

Your words go straight to his dick, which—obviously—twitches back to life because apparently it has absolutely no shame when it comes to you. Zero self-control. None. Especially when you say things like "good boy" in that voice that makes his whole body feel like it's on fire.

"Oh, hi again," you chuckle, glancing down at his rapidly hardening length.

Something possesses him then—maybe it's the lingering high from his orgasm, or maybe it's just the way you're looking at him like he's actually worthy of your attention—but his hands move on their own, fingers trembling slightly as they cradle your jaw. He guides your face back up, wanting to see your eyes, needing to see them.

Then he's leaning down, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss so soft it makes his chest ache.

When he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze, his voice comes out as barely more than a whisper:

"Can I please, then?"

You nod with a smirk, and Jungkook's entire nervous system goes into overdrive.

Okay. Stay calm. Everyone stay fucking calm. His brain is firing signals in every direction like a broken switchboard—hey blood cells, maybe focus on making his tongue work instead of rushing to his dick again? Thanks.

You help him pull his sweats and briefs back up (and he tries very hard not to combust at how domestic that feels), then grab his wrist. His heart leaps into his throat as you lead him through your apartment, past the living room and—oh.

Oh.

That's... that's definitely your bedroom.

His eyes dart everywhere at once, trying to memorize every detail like he's studying for the most important test of his life.

There's a small plant on your windowsill (note to self: you like greenery), some photos on the wall (maybe he could get you a nice frame?), books scattered on your nightstand (he should ask what genres you—)

His mental catalog screeches to a halt as you sit on the edge of your bed, leaning back on your palms and looking up at him with that expression that makes his knees weak. Your eyes flick meaningfully to your sweats, and then:

"Take them off for me, Jungkook-ah?"

He actually chokes on his own spit, because what the fuck. How do you do that? How do you make simple requests sound like commands that make him want to drop to his knees and pledge eternal devotion?

Jungkook crouches down in front of you, his fingers trembling as they find the waistband of your sweats.

Oh god. Oh god. Is this happening? This is happening. He feels like he’s going to be sick. Or pass out. Or maybe combust entirely. His dick is already twitching against his thigh, and he’s genuinely terrified he might actually cum just from looking at you.

He swallows hard, trying to steady himself as he pushes the fabric down, watching with wide, reverent eyes as your sweats slide over your hips and down your legs. It feels surreal—like he’s in some kind of dream sequence or shooting a luxury lingerie ad. The way the fabric clings to your skin, catching briefly on your foot before sliding free under his careful fingers—it’s too much.

Too elegant. Too perfect.

And then they’re off, and he’s back on his knees, staring at you like you’re a goddess descended from the heavens. His gaze trails up your legs, over the soft curve of your thighs, until it lands on the black panties that cling to you in a way that makes his mouth salivate.

Oh god oh god oh god. He’s going to die. He’s going to die right here on your bedroom floor because there’s no way his body can handle this level of perfection.

But then—your fingertip touches his chin, tilting his face upward until he meets your gaze. His breath catches as you make a small beckoning motion with your finger, and he stumbles forward without hesitation, letting you guide him.

"You should start with kisses," you murmur softly, your voice low and inviting. "Come here."

His breath hitches audibly as you part your lips slightly, leaning back just enough to wait for him. He scrambles up a little higher, hands planting themselves awkwardly beside your thighs for balance as he leans in.

His lips meet yours again—soft at first, hesitant—but then you hum against his mouth, and it’s like something inside him snaps. His hands grip the bedspread tightly as he kisses you deeper, pouring every ounce of devotion and desperation into the press of his lips against yours.

Because this? This is everything. You’re everything. And he wants—no, needs—to show you just how much he means that.

Your lips move against his, slow and deliberate, guiding him like you’re teaching him a language he’s desperate to learn. Jungkook tries to follow your lead, tries to match the way your mouth parts just slightly, the way your tongue brushes against his bottom lip before retreating. He’s clumsy—he knows he is—but you don’t seem to mind. Every time he falters, you hum softly, tilting your head to show him how to angle his better, how to deepen the kiss without rushing.

It’s intoxicating. The way you taste, the way you feel—like you’re pouring all your patience and care into this one moment. He can barely keep up, his breaths coming in short, shaky bursts as his hands grip the bedspread tighter, knuckles white with the effort of not touching you anywhere else.

“Slower,” you murmur against his lips, and he nods frantically, trying to remember how to breathe as he adjusts his pace. Your tongue slides against his again—not too much, just enough—and it sends a shiver down his spine so intense he nearly collapses onto you.

He pulls back slightly, gasping for air as his chest heaves. His gaze flickers up to meet yours for a split second before snapping downward—and that’s when he sees it.

Your tank top has shifted slightly in all the movement, and now your nipples are peaked against the fabric, straining in a way that makes his brain completely shut down.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

He’s going to cum in five seconds if he doesn’t look away—if he doesn’t—

“Jungkook,” your voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts like a lifeline, and then your hands are cradling his face again, forcing him to look back up at you. Your thumbs brush gently over his cheeks as you smile softly.

“Take it off for me,” you say simply, nodding toward your tank top.

His breath catches audibly as his hands twitch at his sides.

"I—I—” Words fail him entirely because what the fuck is happening? Is this real? Are you actually asking him to—

“Go on,” you encourage gently, your voice steady and patient in a way that makes him melt. “You can do it.”

He swallows hard and nods shakily, his trembling hands moving toward the hem of your tank top like it’s some sacred artifact.

He almost fumbles the hem of your tank top. He swallows hard, his throat dry as he grips the fabric and starts to lift it, moving slowly, reverently, like he’s unwrapping the most precious gift in existence. The soft material slides up over your stomach, then your ribs, and then—oh god—your breasts.

He freezes for a moment, tank top bunched awkwardly in his hands as his gaze locks onto you.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

They’re perfect.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

Round and soft and exactly how he remembers them from the closet incident—how they felt in his hands, how they fit so perfectly against his palms like they were made for him. He’s revisited that moment in his head a hundred times since it happened, but seeing them now? Bare and right in front of him? It’s so much better than anything his imagination could’ve conjured.

His mouth goes dry as his eyes trace every curve, every detail. The way your nipples are peaked just slightly, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath—it’s mesmerizing. He feels like he should say something, do something, but all he can do is stare like a fucking idiot.

“Jungkook,” you chuckle softly, breaking the silence after what feels like an eternity. “Go on.”

Your voice snaps him out of his trance, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s still holding your tank top halfway up your body like some kind of moron. His face flushes bright red as he scrambles to pull it the rest of the way off, nearly tangling it in your hair before finally tossing it aside.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out immediately, his voice cracking as he looks back at you with wide, panicked eyes. “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt gently, reaching out to cup his cheek again. “It’s okay.”

He nods frantically, still blushing furiously as his gaze flickers downward again—just for a second—before snapping back up to meet yours.

“You’re just—you’re so—” He cuts himself off with a strangled noise because there aren’t words for what you are.

Perfect doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You tap one of his hands where it's gripping the bedspread, and his gaze follows the movement before understanding clicks.

Oh.

You want his hand.

You're reaching for his hand and—oh fuck—pressing it against your breast.

He swallows thickly as his palm makes contact with soft, warm skin. It's exactly as perfect as he remembers from the closet, maybe even better because now he can actually see what he's touching.

His hand twitches automatically, squeezing slightly, and you hiss.

"Sorry!" he yelps immediately, trying to pull back, but you just chuckle and hold his hand in place.

"It's okay," you murmur, your voice gentle but firm. "Don't grab. You need to knead." Your fingers guide his, showing him how to massage properly. "And brush your thumb... here." You move his thumb to your nipple, and the soft sigh that escapes your lips makes his cock twitch violently against his thigh.

Fuck, that was hot. That was so fucking hot he might actually die.

"Roll it between your thumb and forefinger," you instruct softly, "and do the same with the other one."

Okay. Okay, he can do this. This is fine. This is totally fine. He's just touching the most perfect breasts in existence while trying not to cum in his pants. Again. No pressure.

His other hand moves up hesitantly to mirror the first, and when you make another pleased sound, his nonexistent tail practically wags. Each soft sigh that falls from your lips feels like a reward, like proof that he's doing something right for once.

He can't help himself—he leans in to kiss you again, unable to resist the way your mouth parts slightly with each breath. His hands work in tandem now, one kneading gently while the other plays with your nipple, and the moan you let out against his lips?

Yeah, that's getting filed away in his brain forever. Right next to his most precious memories, ready to be replayed approximately ten thousand times when he's alone.

Because holy fuck, the sounds you make. The way you feel. The fact that you're letting him touch you like this, teaching him how to please you—it's almost too much. Almost overwhelming in how perfect it is.

But he wants more. Wants to earn more of those sounds, more of those sighs, more of everything you're willing to give him.

"Noona, I'm gonna cum," Jungkook stammers against your lips when you finally let him breathe.

He doesn't even know why he says it—except that it's absolutely true. His cock is twitching violently against his thigh, ready to explode at any second because apparently that's just what his body does around you now.

You chuckle warmly, and he almost starts crying again because god, he's so fucking embarrassing. But then your hand is in his hair, stroking gently, and your voice is so soft when you ask:

"Is this your first time? With breasts?"

He looks away, cheeks burning as he nods shyly. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes, too afraid of what he might see there.

"That's normal then," you assure him, fingers still carding through his hair. "Everything feels more intense the first time."

He glances back at you, heart stuttering at the gentle understanding in your expression. There's no judgment there, no mockery—just warmth and something that makes his chest ache.

"You can cum while sucking and playing with my tits if you want," you murmur, and the eager moan that escapes him should be mortifying but somehow isn't. Not when you're looking at him like that, like his enthusiasm is endearing rather than pathetic.

You lean back onto the bed, and his mouth goes dry as he watches you position yourself. He follows eagerly, hovering over you before leaning down to take one nipple between his lips. The moment his mouth makes contact, your back arches slightly and your fingers find his hair again.

Oh fuck.

The sound you make—this soft, breathy thing—nearly sends him over the edge right there.

His hand finds your other breast, kneading and rolling the nipple between his fingers like you taught him, while his free hand fumbles desperately with his sweats, shoving them down just enough to wrap around his leaking cock.

He's so close already, pre-cum making his fingers slide easily as he strokes himself. Every little gasp and sigh you make sends sparks down his spine, making his hips buck into his own grip as he sucks and licks at your nipple like his life depends on it.

"Can I—" Jungkook chokes out between desperate pants, "Can I cum on your—your tits? Please?"

You nod softly, and he almost sobs with relief as he positions himself, straddling your waist. His hand works frantically over his length as he stares down at your perfect breasts, and then he's cumming with a broken moan, painting white stripes across your skin.

"I'm sorry," he stammers immediately, mortified at the mess he's made. But you just shake your head, reaching for some wipes from your nightstand.

"Stop apologizing," you murmur, but before you can clean yourself, he's already grabbing the wipes from your hand.

"Let me," he insists softly, carefully wiping his traces from your skin with reverent attention.

Once you're clean, he can't help himself—he leans down to press soft kisses against your breasts again. And again. And then he's back to sucking and kissing your nipples because how could he not? The content hum you make only encourages him further.

But then you're tugging gently at his hair, making him look up at you. "You can start kissing your way down," you tell him, and his face flushes crimson even as his cock twitches with renewed interest.

Yes. Fuck yes. Thank you god and jesus and buddha and whoever else is listening.

He starts trailing kisses down your stomach, each press of his lips deliberate and worshipful. When he reaches the edge of your panties, he pauses, moving to kneel between your thighs at the foot of the bed. His hands shake as he hooks his fingers in the waistband, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.

Then you spread your legs, and holy fuck. The sight of your pussy—bare and glistening and so fucking perfect—draws a deep groan from his chest. You're so wet, so ready for his tongue, and he's pretty sure he's actually died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck," he breathes, staring at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Because you are. You absolutely are.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, and his breath catches when he sees you propped up on your elbows, watching him with a soft, almost amused look. Your fingers slide into his messy hair, carding through it gently, and his heart stutters in his chest. He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he asks,

“Can I…?”

You nod, your lips curving into a small smile. “Yes.”

Okay. Okay. He can do this. He just has to remember what Taehyung and Jimin told him—don’t overthink it, listen to her cues, focus on what she likes—but oh god, he really doesn’t need to think about Taehyung and Jimin right now. What the fuck, brain? Not helpful.

He shakes his head quickly, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts as he refocuses on you—glistening and beautiful and so fucking damp it makes his heart race. He did that. He got you like that. The realization sends a fresh wave of heat through him, and he feels his cock twitch against his thigh.

“Start slow,” you murmur softly, your fingers still threading through his hair. “Use your tongue first. Just… explore.”

He nods eagerly, leaning in closer until he can feel the heat radiating off you. His tongue flicks out tentatively, tracing a slow line up your folds, and the quiet sigh you let out makes him shiver.

“Good,” you hum encouragingly, and he nearly preens at the praise. “Now try circling around my clit—gently.”

He follows your instructions immediately, his tongue moving in slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your hips shift slightly in response sends a thrill through him, and he presses in just a little harder.

“Not too much pressure,” you warn gently, your hand tightening slightly in his hair to guide him. “Keep it soft for now.”

“Okay,” he mumbles against you, adjusting his movements until your soft hum of approval tells him he’s doing it right.

“Now try flicking your tongue,” you instruct softly. “Just there—yes, like that.”

The sound you make when he obeys is enough to make him moan into you, his hands gripping your thighs for support as he loses himself in the taste of you. Each little noise of pleasure that escapes your lips feels like a reward, spurring him on as he tries to remember everything you’re teaching him.

“Good boy,” you murmur again, and fuck—he’s pretty sure he could cum just from hearing those words alone.

Jungkook’s tongue moves with trembling focus, every flick and stroke guided by your soft instructions. The taste of you is overwhelming—sweet and musky and perfect—and he can’t get enough. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps at you, and the way your thighs tighten around his head makes him dizzy with pride.

“Slower,” you breathe, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He obeys immediately, easing the pressure as he circles your clit with featherlight strokes. The whimper you let out sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock, which is already leaking against his thigh again. God, he’s so fucking sensitive right now.

“Use your fingers,” you murmur, your voice strained. “Just one… inside me. Slowly.”

His breath hitches as he pulls back slightly, his lips glistening. He’s shaking so badly he can barely coordinate his hands, but he manages to press a single finger against your entrance, sliding it in with painstaking care. The way you clench around him makes his head spin.

“Good,” you gasp, hips lifting off the bed. “Now curl it—there—”

He obeys, crooking his finger upward, and the choked moan you release is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. His cock throbs, but he ignores it, too focused on watching your face—the way your brows knit together, the way your lips part as you pant.

“Add another,” you say, your nails scraping gently against his scalp.

He slides a second finger in, marveling at how you stretch around him, how impossibly hot you feel. Your hips grind down against his hand, and he scrambles to keep up, curling and scissoring his fingers the way Jimin had described during their mortifying “lesson.”

“Fuck—Jungkook—” Your voice cracks, and he looks up to see your back arching off the bed, your free hand fisting the sheets. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t if he tried. Not when you’re falling apart above him, your thighs trembling as he works you closer. Your clit is swollen under his tongue, and he flicks it faster, matching the rhythm of his fingers.

“I’m close,” you warn, your voice pitching higher. “Keep going, just like that—”

He moans against you, the vibration making you cry out. Your hips stutter, and then you’re clenching around his fingers so tightly he can barely move them. The sound you make—a raw, unfiltered gasp—echoes in his bones as you shudder through your release.

He keeps licking, keeps fingering you through it until your hand yanks his hair back gently.

“Enough, baby,” you pant, chest heaving. “You’ll overstimulate me.”

He pulls back immediately, fingers slipping free as he stares up at you in awe. Your skin is flushed, your hair fanned out around you like a halo, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Come here,” you murmur, patting the bed beside you.

He scrambles up, still trembling, his sweats clinging to his hips. You reach for him the moment he’s within reach, pulling him into a searing kiss that tastes like you. His hips jerk forward instinctively, his cock grinding against your thigh, and he breaks the kiss with a whine.

“Shh,” you soothe, your hand sliding down to palm him through his sweats. “You did so well. Let noona take care of you now.”

He nods frantically, his breath hitching as you tug his sweats down. Your hand wraps around him, and he nearly sobs at the contact.

“Look at me,” you command softly, and his teary eyes snap to yours. “You can let go. I’ve got you.”

It takes three strokes. Three strokes and the way you’re looking at him—proud, affectionate, hungry—and he’s coming with a broken cry, stripes of white painting your stomach.

He collapses against you, boneless and spent, his face buried in your neck as you stroke his hair.

“Good boy,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his temple. “So good for me.”

He doesn’t have the energy to respond, but he nuzzles closer, his heart swelling so big it threatens to burst.

Twenty minutes later, after cleaning you both up with trembling hands and bringing you water, he's curled around you in bed, his nose buried in your hair. His cock is already stirring against your thigh because apparently his body has absolutely no chill when it comes to you.

"Noona?" he whispers, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip.

"Hmm?"

He swallows hard, gathering his courage. "I need to tell you something."

You shift slightly to look at him, and his heart stutters at how soft your expression is. "What is it?"

"I'm..." He takes a shaky breath. "I'm Spider-Man."

There's a pause, and then you... laugh? Not mockingly—just this warm, gentle sound that makes his chest tight.

"I know," you say simply, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead.

His eyes widen comically. "You—what? How long have you—?"

"Jungkook-ah," you interrupt softly, "you pulled me away from a bus from five meters away. And you're literally always wherever I am. And you bring me the exact snacks I mention wanting, even when you weren't there when I said it."

"Oh." He flushes, ducking his head. "Was I that obvious?"

"Extremely." Your fingers card through his hair, and he melts into the touch. "But it's cute that you finally told me."

He peeks up at you through his lashes. "You're not... mad?"

"That you're Spider-Man? No." You smile. "That you stalked me? Maybe a little."

"I wasn't stalking!" he protests immediately. "I was... protecting!"

"Uh-huh." Your tone is teasing, and he pouts until you lean in to kiss him softly. "Sure you were."

When you pull back, his expression has shifted to something more... heated. His cock twitches against your thigh, and you raise an eyebrow.

“So… since you’re not mad…”

“Yes?”

“Can we… go again?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Again?”

“Yeah,” he blurts. “I’ve got—uh—stamina. Like, a lot. Super… stamina. From the… you know.” He gestures vaguely at nothing. “Spider… stuff.”

You snort, clearly fighting a laugh. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” He nods frantically, hands flailing as he tries to explain. “I can go for hours! Days! Well, not days, but—I mean, I could eat you out again right now if you let me. Please? You don’t even have to touch me! I’ll just—I’ll jerk off while I do it. I can cum three or four more times, easy. Maybe five? Let’s try five.”

You stare at him.

He wilts slightly. “Or… two? Two’s good. Two’s cool.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

He scrambles up immediately, eyes bright and hopeful. You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his pouty bottom lip. “You want to taste me that badly?”

He nods so fast it’s a miracle he doesn’t give himself whiplash. “Please.”

“Okay,” you say, flopping back onto the pillows. “But slowly this time. I’m not a superhero.”

He’s already scrambling down the bed, eyes gleaming. “Yes. Yes, okay, slowly. Got it. Thank you. Thank you.”

You snort as his lips find your inner thigh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously grateful,” he mumbles against your skin, and the vibration makes you laugh again.

Not done, he thinks, and this time, he’s grinning.

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

TAGLIST:

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stuti2904 @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @ahgasegotarmy116 @chloepiccoliniii

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 9

Masterlist

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Being unknown still had its perks. You easily just got yourself a Uber and rode up to JYPE with no fuss. Better enjoy it while you can, it would all change very soon.

In the company you had your own offices. There were several people doing this job before, and they managed other groups as well. But you would just be working with SKZ.

Even so, you had a total of 4 rooms set aside for your work, all with the necessary stuff to do your job. Some had desks and computers, and some were wet up for interviews and videos. There were even several places with different backdrops for TikTok's and shorts in a couple of rooms. Literally, everything you could need on short notice.

The main office was where you set up shop, from this room you could see the other rooms and the main common area you had around the circle of rooms. There were couches and chairs there with side tables and rugs. It looked like a living room, really.

As the data from the reaction video uploaded to your cloud drive your phone dinged and you pulled it out.

You sigh heavily. Chan didn't realize how much you leaned on them already. You weren't used to this life and all it entailed. And you weren't used to depending on other people. You have never been the damsel in distress kind of person.

You want to work hard and be worthy of being a part of this soul group. You have no talent in singing, dancing, or modeling. You have your expertise in social media and keeping an audience engaged and waiting for the next post with artful teasing.

And that is how you can contribute to this group of amazingly talented people who are known and loved worldwide. You damn well were going to do it to the best of your ability. And you weren't going to let your work stress out the boys in any way.

It really was exactly what you needed to hear. It was perfect and it almost made you want to start crying, but that could also be because you were so stressed and tired right now. His words and confidence in you was inspiring.

You decided to keep the meetings. It really wouldn't hurt to see how the others do this job. And you would be working with them on any inter agency collabs like dance challenges and stuff. Being friendly with them could only help.

In between the meetings, you worked on both YouTube videos. You were down to the wire. It needed to be polished, double-checked, polished again, then uploaded to the video que on YouTube and all before the deadline quickly drawing nearer. You hadn't even gotten to the first polishing yet.

Minnie was correct, if overly dramatic. You hadn't snacked or eaten today besides the apple for breakfast. To be honest, you didn't feel much like dinner either, so you were planning on skipping that as well. You had too much to do and were too stressed about it. So, you read the messages but didn't respond. You still had more to do on the video before you could go home and finally, finally, get some sleep.

Smiling through a massive yawn you send a goodnight and set your phone aside. Your tired eyes going back to your computer screen. You only had a bit more to go but it was already past ten at night.

When the video was finally uploaded, queued, and ready to go, it was 20 to 3 in the morning. You were tempted to sleep on the cushy couch you had been glancing at for the last several hours, but you didn't want to worry the boys by not coming home. Plus, you wouldn't get to say goodbye before Ayen, Lino, and Bin left for several days.

So, yet another Uber took you home. The city was still lit up even at 3am. There were people and cars still out and about doing whatever it is they were doing. The city was still awake, never truly sleeping.

As the driver put on some soft jazz to fill the silence you let the lights flashing by blur together and lull you to a nice zone right before falling asleep.

The apartment was quiet when you walked in. They were thoughtful enough to leave the hall light on for you so you could see. You made your way to your bedroom as quietly as you could, turning the light off as you went.

You were only partially surprised to find Chan curled up in your bed, phone still loosely in his hand from falling asleep while using it. You guessed he had tried staying up to wait for you, even though he needed to sleep more.

You dug out an extra charger you had and plugged his phone in so it wouldn't be dead in the morning, setting it on the bedside table on his side of the bed. He didn't so much as stir as you changed and climbed into bed. You even snuggled up to him and laid your head on his chest. Knowing how poor his sleep was, you were glad he was out so hard. You, yourself was out in a matter of seconds.

A horrible blaring alarm shot you out of your peaceful, short, slumber far too soon.

"M s'm larm." Chan mumbled without opening his eyes. He didn't even move to turn the alarm off.

Rolling your eyes, you reached across him to turn off the alarm yourself, unwilling to listen to the awful noise longer than you had to. As you did, you caught sight of the time. Time for you to get up anyway.

"Time to get up, babe." You yawned. The couple hours of rest you were able to get felt more like a nap, but it was good enough for now.

"Mm. What time you get home?" He asked reaching over to pat at me where he could reach.

You flipped the blankets off both of you, letting the harsh cold air help wake you up. "A little before 4."

At this he finally opened his eyes to look you over. "Go back to sleep then."

"No. Bin, Lino, and Ayen are leaving soon. I want to say goodbye properly. And Hyune has his spread and commercial today." You stood, stretched, and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

Chan dozed some more while you showered and got dressed. He never even bothered to cover himself back up with a blanket.

You were contemplating shoving him off the bed when there was a knock on the door. "Come in." You invited.

Felix cracked the door open, then bounced in, picking you up. "You're here! I missed you!" He spun you around making you laugh out loud.

"I got back this morning. You had plenty of company last night, I'm sure."

Felix pouted and set you back on your feet carefully. You tugged at his protruding lip gently with a fond smile.

"The video comes out today. Everyone will know you." Chan finally sat up in bed, hair sticking up in all directions. There were lines on is face from where he was laying.

At his reminder your stomach twisted uncomfortably. "I'm already bracing myself." You reply.

Felix patted your hair. "They are going to love you."

You smiled at him, still unconvinced of your warm welcome from STAY. There would be a lot of hate. That was a given. And you weren't sure how you would take the negativity.

Bin nearly shoved food down your throat when he found out you hadn't eaten at all yesterday. You tried to tell him you were honestly just not hungry, but he didn't care. So, you ate, just for him.

"Promise you will eat while we are gone." He requested.

"The rest of us will be here to make sure, Bin." Chan assured him.

You scoff. "It was just a couple meals! It's not a big deal!"

"There is no good reason to not eat. Don't turn into these girls around here." Bin was passionate about his subject. It was touching. And also, sad.

You drape yourself over his back and kissed the side of his head. "I promise I will eat while you are gone."

Bin leaned back and tilted his head to look up at you. "Thank you. I just worry the company, and that disgusting man who we will not speak of, will try and convince you to do that extreme shit."

"Never. I may occasionally go a day or two without eating when I'm busy or stressed, but I'll never do one of those awful diets. I am happy with my weight."

Satisfied with your promise and declaration, he relaxed against you. You absently drummed a beat gently on his chest.

“This is going to be a nice day.” Chan mentioned as he scrolled through his phone.

“Wanna do some work in the atrium? Enjoy the weather?” Han suggested reaching for the pepper.

“I could meet you there. They have a very nice gazebo.” You perked up.

Bin reached back to offer you a bite of his bacon, which you took, humming as you chewed.

“Are you working from the company again?”

“Yeah. I need to start setting up for upcoming stuff. And we are scheduled to record shorts for TikTok and YouTube. Challenges for the new song.”

“Wanna meet for lunch too?” Chan asked, going back to his breakfast.

Before you could answer, Hyune blew through the room, giving everyone he could a peck. “Sorry, running behind.”

You looked at your phone, checking the time. “Don’t panic. You have plenty of time.”

“Not if there is traffic!”

You reached out and gently grabbed him as he rushed by, pulling him in to kiss him. “Don’t fluster yourself. If there is traffic, text me, and I'll let them know.”

Hyune sighed, giving in. “Fine. Are you coming by?”

“Yes, I’ll be there before shooting starts.”

Hyune smiled and kissed you again before leaning down and kissing Bins hair. “Safe trip, guys. Love you.”

There was a chorus of goodbyes and Hyune left, door closing softly behind him. He was much calmer now, not nearly as rushed.

The first thing on your list was seeing Ayen, Lino, and Bin off. They would be gone for several days. “Stay safe. Make sure to call. I’ll be on video call for the interviews.” You gave each of them a hug and kiss as you spoke.

“Don’t stress yourself. This is a lot for one person to do.” Lino warned.

You smiled. It’s true. Your days were full from start to finish, but you could handle it so far. You were very good at multitasking. And you made sure to always have moments – however short – of non-work. Either time with yourself or with your soul mates. Just something that wasn’t working.

Though finding someone to help was on your list, when you felt like you could let go of the reins a bit. When you were more secure in your position here. Right now, you still felt like you had something to prove, and you didn’t think you could bring yourself to trust someone else to help you with that.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll find time to relax. Promise.”

Once they were off, you headed right over to Hyune to oversee the photoshoot and commercial. It would be the first big-time commercial and magazine spread photoshoot you would be a part of. Before this, it was usually small businesses you oversaw. This would be new, and you were kind of excited about it.

🥼👔👕👖🧣🧤🧥🧦👗👘🥻🩱🩲🩳👙👚👑👒

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi @simpforskz143148 @xxeiraxx @lil-bear08 @brbwritingfanfic @jisungs-iced-americano @zofia515 @missvanjiiieee-blog @malyxsoulpersonal @silentreadersthings @pixie0627

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

[thomamaru]

Hierarchy of Intimacy (Chapter Isagi)

Synopsis: You both always had a friendly competition about who would score higher. With bets, you turned it into an unforgettable date. Making him know more about fall deeper in love with you.

Tags: Isagi Yoichi x gn!reader, academic rivals trope, reader can crochet, fluff

Author notes: this is a series based on a trend of tiktok. characters that will be included is nagi, yukimiya, rin, chigiri, isagi, reo, kunigami, sae, and bachira. If you want to add a character, you can request with a prompt :)

Your rivalry with Isagi was legendary, even amongst your closest friends. It wasn’t that you two didn’t respect each other—it was the opposite.

You both thrived in this competition, where each new test and assignment became a battlefield of grades. Who could outscore the other? Who would come out on top as the reigning academic champion?

But, secretly, both of you enjoyed it more than anyone could guess.

It wasn’t all about winning; it was about proving to each other that you could excel—and sharing that little joy after each victory, no matter how small.

As the grade results for the latest round were due to be released, you exchanged the usual look with Isagi.

The moment you could feel the nerves about to strike, you leaned in beside him, trying to play it off casually.

"So… what’s today's bet gonna be?" you asked, your voice full of playful mischief as you nudged him in the side.

You knew he loved a good bet, especially when the stakes were high.

Isagi smiled, a confident but competitive glint in his eye. "Hmm, if I win, you and I are going to watch a soccer match together. Just the two of us—no distractions."

Your brows raised at his offer, but your lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Oh, you really think you can win this time?”

"I’m not thinking about it—I know I can win," he shot back with a smirk, his eyes glimmering with that competitive edge you loved.

You crossed your arms, pouting just a bit. "If I win, then you have to learn one of my hobbies. I’ll teach you something fun," you added, the excitement of the challenge already fueling your spirit.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Learn your hobby? You’ve got to be joking. What could possibly be fun about that?"

You chuckled. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it! Trust me, it’ll make for a cute date idea.”

“A cute date idea?” he repeated, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Hmm… okay, fine, we’ll make it a deal.

You exchanged a handshake to seal the bet, both of you secretly determined to come out on top, even as the playful rivalry unfolded.

There was something oddly reassuring about this; it was as if winning or losing didn’t matter, as long as you were sharing it with each other.

The days leading up to the results were filled with nervous studying, half-joking barbs, and the usual flirtations between you and Isagi, each of you knowing this competition had become as much of a personal challenge as it had a friendly rivalry.

---

Finally, the day arrived. It was lunch break, and you could feel the excitement buzzing in the air as a crowd gathered around the campus bulletin board. Something important was up.

“What’s going on?” you asked, grabbing Isagi’s arm, leaning against him as you rushed over.

You weaved through the crowd, the energy at the board palpable, and soon enough, you realized what it was. Grades were posted.

You scanned the names quickly, fingers tracing across the list until you found yours, located at the very top. Your eyes widened. You had won this round! You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling brightly, feeling a rush of victory.

“Oh my god, I did it! I won!” you cheered, practically bouncing on your toes.

Isagi watched your excitement with a soft smile, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a way that made your heart flutter. “I guess I lost,” he chuckled. "You win, as usual."

You laughed, all smug now. "You’ll get ‘em next time! But, hey, I’ll be a good sport about it," you teased, giving him a playful wink.

Isagi raised a brow, the faintest blush appearing at his cheeks as you both walked off to figure out where your post-victory (and post-loss) plans would take you.

---

The weekend arrived, and Isagi came over to your house, ready to fulfill his end of the bet.

The scene inside your home made him pause in surprise as he stepped through the door. Balls of yarn, crochet hooks, and a tangle of colorful strings sprawled all over the table like an artist's mess.

“This looks… complex,” Isagi mumbled, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the chaos before him. “So, this is what I’m doing?”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. "Come on, don't act like you're not up for the challenge. The bet is, you and I both have to make a cat keychain and compare. We’ll see who’s better, and I’m guessing it'll be me." You grinned, both because of your playful challenge and because you knew, at least deep down, this would be fun.

Isagi sat down at the table with a deep sigh. "I’m gonna regret this."

"Not even, you’re gonna have fun," you teased, scooting closer as you pulled up the tutorial video on your laptop. "Trust me, this is easier than it looks."

But the moment the video started, Isagi’s frown deepened. "Wait, what’s ‘sc’ and ‘dc’? These terms don’t even make sense!" He huffed, clearly frustrated.

You giggled, your heart swelled as you leaned closer to guide him through the process. "It's okay. ‘Sc’ is ‘single crochet,’ and ‘dc’ is ‘double crochet.’ Focus, Isagi!"

"Ahh, I think I’m getting it…" he muttered. But as his fingers became tangled in yarn, he gave up with an exaggerated sigh. "You sure this is supposed to be relaxing? I’m losing my mind here!"

"Let me help you," you giggled softly. You gently moved his hands, showing him again how to handle the yarn and crochet hook.

As you showed him step by step, your eyes couldn’t help but soften at his concentration. His furrowed brow, his lips pursed in determination, and those dark eyes that kept glancing at you whenever you corrected him were enough to make your heart race, even if he didn’t notice the effect he had on you.

You kept reassuring him with each mistake, your smile never faltering. "Hey, it’s fine, you’re getting the hang of it!"

Every time you spoke, every time you encouraged him, there was a sincerity in his eyes.

And there, amongst the thread and chaos, you realized that Isagi’s quiet affections showed in the little things—the soft looks he threw your way, the subtle praises he muttered between his complaints.

At long last, after many tangled threads, you both compared your keychains. Yours was undoubtedly perfect, a sweet and small cat keychain you were proud of.

But when you looked at his, you couldn’t help but laugh—his keychain, albeit adorable, looked nothing like the cat in the tutorial. It was lopsided, a bit deformed, but somehow, it made him smile sheepishly.

"This… is not a cat, huh?" Isagi groaned in defeat, but you could tell from the look on his face that he was proud anyway.

You picked up his clumsy keychain and attached it to your bag with a smile. “You tried. Besides,” you added, gaze meeting his, “it’s cute. Just like you.”

Isagi blinked, eyes widening as your words took him by surprise. “What?” he asked, voice suddenly much smaller than before.

"You made it for me. I’ll always think it’s cute."

Something flickered in his chest—a deep, fluttering feeling that he wasn’t used to. You, with your words and your warmth, made everything about the moment feel a little bit more profound.

Without even realizing it, Isagi pulled you into an embrace, burying his face into the curve of your neck.

“You really might be killing me with that cute stuff,” he muttered quietly, his arms wrapped securely around you as his heart pounded loudly in his chest. "It’s not fair. How are you this cute?"

You softly laughed, your hand on the back of his head as you squeezed him tighter. “Maybe it’s because you keep pulling me into adorable hugs.”

You kissed the top of his head, your lips lingering just for a moment, savoring the warmth of his embrace.

"I’m grateful for every time we bet, every moment like this," you whispered, brushing his hair back. "This is everything I could’ve asked for."

A genuine smile spread on his face, his heart blooming with affection. “You really do know how to make me feel like the luckiest guy."

Isagi’s arms tightened, and you felt so at peace in that moment. The fact that you’d shared this silly bet, these laughter-filled challenges, and now this sweet moment of connection—it felt like the perfect win.

Not because you had the best grade or crocheted the perfect cat, but because you were together in something so simple.

"Guess I’m the one getting the perfect score in this relationship," Isagi said teasingly, raising his head just enough to meet your eyes.

You smiled back, brushing his bangs gently away from his face. "In everything, Isagi," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “you’re my perfect score."

And with that, he grinned like he had won a million times over.

[utilitycaster]

What faith do you have in the future of Exandria as a setting? One reason the finale has bothered me so much is that established Exandrian lore seems to not make sense anymore. The world no longer feels real and so I find myself not having confidence in future stories told there. When I brought this up to others they said that history was written by the victors, aka the Gods. But in reality it was Matt Mercer in published source books and a 10 minute video. So what hope for future stories?

Here's the thing: I do not actually feel like Exandrian lore was changed significantly. I think the resulting character beats for Bells Hells/some Crown Keepers/Vax are for the most part incoherent, but actually, all of the made-up bullshit that people claimed in fandom to support their idea of how the campaign would go (about which they were largely wrong) or, after the fact, the campaign ended? Absolutely none of it confirmed. We have absolutely zero proof that people would have rounded up Ruidusborn and slaughtered them and indeed, the fact that Liliana is just bopping around Exandria on her gap year without so much as a slap on the wrist serves as proof positive that this is probably not what they'd have done. Vasselheim has not to our knowledge lashed out. The Ruidians are being welcomed by a number of people across the world. The gods are still deeply important and frankly that lore with the Luxon/gods becoming mortal was even seeded in past campaigns/Downfall. My issue isn't really any of the core lore here; it's that all of this kind of popped up in the last 5 episodes because Bells Hells were too busy exploring the crevices of their own colons with their heads to formulate a plan, and then when they showed up having ignored everything their many, many benefactors had done for them and were rude besides everyone simply stood aside. Hell, those people who told you that history was written on the victors probably thought Bells Hells would be on the run forever as late as episode 120, and were expecting a post-apocalyptic Exandria as late as episode 117 or so. They are stupid, and if they are your friends you should find smarter ones. But anyway the actual lore of Exandria is basically entirely intact or was changed in a way that was shown onscreen. If you have specific things you feel were ignored, let me know, but the problem wasn't the worldbuilding; it was that Bells Hells were granted foot-thick unjustified plot armor.

So with that in mind it's fine. I think my desire for a new setting is more just that like, this campaign really feels like they've gotten too precious with Exandria and were too afraid to do anything drastic or let people like. die. or in severe cases, stay dead. But my complaints about the lore are much more that like, the Apex War was clearly supposed to mean something and no one in the party gave a shit; not that the lore itself was incoherent.