#okay these tags are getting too long so Bye

[marcelineuntitled]

fanart for This Is Not The End by @kings-highway

potentially my favourite fic ever!! <3

[bookinit02]

in honor of my s5 announcement this week, here’s one of the scenes from the first episode! hope you all like it🫶🏻

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by my beloved no.1 chappell roan stan @cordiallyfuturedwight thanks my darling <33 i can only apologise for the lack of ms roan here... i swear good luck babe has been on repeat i don't know what happened

tagging the usual suspects, apologies if i've already missed yours: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @thvinyl @cosmicdreamgrl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @monismochi <333 and you dear reader

oh and see here for more of my self-proclaimed songs of the summer if you're interested in that kind of thing

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Hi. New ✨Pinned Post✨

• MINORS. DO NOT MESSAGE ME. NO DMS. NO INBOX MESSAGES. NO. I am not checking my activity and Every note to see if minors are interacting w my stuff but i WILL check if u directly try to contact me. I WILL block you. Please dont do that to me 😭 Likes/Reblogs are fine, just dont talk to me Directly please.

• This blog will have ns//fw stuff! Suggestive and Explicit! Please block [spicy hot], [suggestive] and [saucy] to avoid seeing these posts! Make sure to remove the brackets! (Gonna be changing [spicy hot] to [saucy] very soon so I am adding that in there as well)

• No, I do not want you to dub any of my art. Oh my god. Oh my god ! I cannot stop you but I do not want anything ive done dubbed and placed anywhere on the internet. Do not show me if u do this. Do not show me if u saw it on youtube or tiktok or whatever! I am existing with Blinders on and i would prefer to keep it that way!

• I dont rp! Please do not send me rp asks and dms ! I will NOT respond to them!

• Not important but if u see Dissociativekitten in ur activity, thats me :)

OKAY thats it for real bye

[meow-face]

Well dang. This is the word count of my second Inside Out fanfiction so far. I have the entire plot planned out, and it's just under 3/4 written right now! (Roughly 5/8ish chapters!)

Will be posting it very soon so keep an eye out if you're interested in this sorta thing! :D Here's the summary below:

Riley is seventeen now, turning eighteen in three months! There's a lot going on, a lot of exciting, scary, big things. And our Riley is a rockstar at handling all of them! And we still love our girl. Riley is into her final weeks of high school in the sunny June month in San Francisco. Responsibilities are piling up; so when Joy decides to take a stroll in Imagination Land one night to decompress, she comes across something, or someone rather, that puzzles, but also amazes the whole mind. A canon-complicit future fic of how I would imagine the personification of The Inner Child would pan out!

[cowboyinternist]

sheriff sam getting misgendered in good morning nightvale moodboard

[reel-fear]

Honestly, every single time the whole 'poppy playtime is a bendy rip-off' stuff ever shows up I find it all extremely unconvincing and silly.

For one thing, rip-off usually is meant to imply that it's a cheap lazy copy of a better more polished thing, and uh. Sorry but even from chapter 1? Poppy Playtime is a better game than Bendy, it has a simple but understandable story, the game manages to be thrilling, creepy, and very intense at times... I mean that Huggy chase in the vents ALONE puts it way above Batim for me.

I mean BATDR had the most slow stupid chase I've ever seen [and every other encounter with the ink demon is text telling u he's there and then a timer goes down and u get jumpscared] and batim's chases were either silly or just not nearly as theatric or terrifying as that.

When making the vent sequence I mean not only is it absolutely horrifying to realize how fast Huggy is in there but also it's so theatric and cool? The fact that you round a corner after thinking you escaped only to see a terrifying animation of that thing crawling toward you is awesome! I wish Bendy had stuff like that!

And all the stuff it shares with Bendy are generic things Bendy ripped from other horror games/media anyways. I'm not saying Poppy Playtime isn't inspired by Bendy I for sure think it is but Bendy is such a generic story that somehow fails to do tropes 100 other horror games have done any comparison only makes Poppy Playtime look better.

"It has employees being sacrificed for their company" That is not a concept Bendy invented, literally look at any of the sci-fi horror series Bendy is very inspired by. This is literally a twist in the original Alien.

"It has a scary woman forcing you to do tasks for her" Once again, not a concept Bendy invented, a scary mysterious person forcing you to do fetch-quests is a concept found in tons of horror media. And at least Poppy Playtime gave you a chase with her and let you defeat her, look at poor malice. She's barely on screen for more than 10 minutes before she gets stabbed.

"It has a cult worshipping the monster" This is something tons of horror games and media have done too. I mean In The Tall Grass has a guy who worships a giant magical rock in the middle of a grass maze, Bioshock [which Bendy has only been taking more and more direct inspiration from while failing to grab any of the compelling parts] also had a lot of themes of religion and cult-ish behavior, almost every horror media franchise has at one point done a cult thing.

Bendy couldn't even come up with a reason Sammy worships the ink demon, the best motivation we've ever gotten is just that 'he's crazzyyyy the ink made him insaneeee'. Who is the cheap rip-off here?

At least Poppy Playtime gave their cultist a motive for worshipping the monster + a proper boss fight that feels intense and looks awesome! Bendy didn't even let you kill Malice [she got stabbed in front of you and then just collapsed on the floor how thrilling] meanwhile you get to kill three of the villains in Poppy Playtime and the gameplay and action in those scenes have only gotten better as the game went on.

I mean Sammy walks into a room and goes "AAA SCARY I'M BEING MURDERED" then later shows up and for NO REASON sees a normal human man and assumes it's the ink demon before once again someone else kills him for you. In Poppy Playtime you defeat Catnap as he floods the world with this horrible nightmare-inducing gas that intensifies the color palette and his design. Fight off versions of him that are illusions that you need your flare gun for, then watch in a wonderful animation as he mistakes the monster for his savior before getting killed by it, in a brutal way I might add, which game are we accusing of being cheap, lazy garbage again?

I just find this argument to be people who Really Really need to find a reason to hate Poppy Playtime which I think is silly. The devs being weird, shady people is already enough reason to dislike the game, you don't need to invent reasons why secretly every part of the game is malicious or bad. But esp when I see Bendy fans saying they don't support Poppy Playtime or dislike it bc of its devs or even saying its cringe ummmm.

I have bad news about the fact Bendy's devs are worse and it took not one, but TWO over an hour long videos to cover it all. Plus the Bendy games are just the worse games in every aspect, if I could sell my batim copy for a copy of Poppy Playtime I wouldn't hesitate at all.

Saying this as a bendy fan, we have no right to be super judgy towards Poppy Playtime. If Poppy Playtime is embarrassing cringe, Bendy is too and is way more embarrassing of an interest. We shouldn't spread misinformation just because we all want to hate Poppy Playtime, you can dislike Poppy Playtime without making up a bunch of nonsense to justify it.

Honestly seeing people just blatantly be unfairly mean to Poppy Playtime only makes its critics look worse and makes it hard to take any backlash to the games seriously. Because surprise surprise if you spread misinformation to make a point people will quickly stop listening to Anything you have to say bc they won't trust you're telling the truth anymore.

[abnormalpsychology]

thrilling sequel to my poll from back in January

[dearlenore]

ARREST ME BUT MAKE IT SEXY • S.REID

SUMMARY: The team successfully arrests a murder suspect—only to realize they’ve just taken down a highly respected FBI agent from another unit. Furious that they’ve blown her undercover mission, she decides to make their mistake their problem. After all, if they’ve already ruined her op, she might as well have a little fun with it.

PAIRING: agent!fem!reader x spencer

tags: reader is a lil shit lmao, season12!spencer, use of y/n, heavy flirting, criminal activity, dirty jokes, use of my love, baby, sweetheart and cutie, bauteam is kinda stupid (sorry lol)

a/n: rushed + editor is occupied for the foreseeable future</3

w/c: 0.8k

THE INTERROGATION ROOM was unbearably tense, but not for you. You sat comfortably in your chair, wrists still cuffed to the table, fingers idly tapping out a rhythm. Across from you, the BAU team filtered in and out, their patience wearing thin with each passing minute.

Hotch was the first to take a crack at you.

“Do you know why you’re here, ma’am?” he asked, voice as steady and unreadable as ever. He leaned against the table, watching you like a puzzle he was determined to solve.

You blinked up at him, then let a slow grin spread across your lips. “No idea, sir,” you responded in an exaggerated, mocking tone, leaning back in your chair to mirror his stance.

He exhaled sharply, sliding a set of crime scene photos in front of you. The images were gruesome—bodies left in precise, calculated poses, signs of struggle, but no obvious traces of the killer. You studied them, but only for a moment.

“Tragic,” you mused. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“You were at the scene,” he said.

You tilted your head. “So were a lot of people.”

“An hour before the body was found.”

“Maybe I was just getting coffee.”

Hotch narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. He was looking for cracks, a sign that you were lying, but all he found was amusement. You were enjoying this.

A minute later, he sighed and pushed back from the table. “I’ll give you time to think.”

“Oh, how generous,” you cooed, watching as he left.

“Bye handsome!”

Next was Morgan.

He didn’t even sit down. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking you up and down with the kind of exasperation reserved for people he really didn’t have the patience for.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered.

You grinned. “I just love a good misunderstanding. It’s like a game except you’re waisting my time. Then again I’m a salary employee soooo…”

“This ain’t a game,” he said. “You were at the crime scene. You have connections to known criminals. You disappear off the grid for weeks at a time. And you expect us to believe you had nothing to do with this?”

“Connections to criminals?” You gasped dramatically. “You wound me. What next? You’re going to tell me Santa Claus isn’t real?”

Morgan let out a long sigh. “Man, I really don’t like you.”

“That’s okay,” you replied easily. “Not everyone has good taste.”

Morgan gave you one last irritated glance before pushing off the wall. “I’m done here.”

Emily took a turn after that, but she only lasted ten minutes before giving up, muttering about how you “liked messing with them too much” and “needed to be someone else’s problem.”

And so, that’s how you ended up with Spencer.

He was quieter than the others. He sat across from you, his fingers tapping against the table, observing rather than accusing.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, finally, he said, “You’re making a lot of references that only someone with a specific academic background would appreciate.”

You tilted your head. “And you caught them. Very impressive, Dr. Reid. I knew someone would appreciate my sense of humor someday.”

Spencer didn’t react to the compliment. “You want us to doubt our conclusion, but you haven’t provided a solid alternative explanation.”

You leaned forward slightly, tilting your head. “Maybe because it was super obvious and all of you have college degrees..”

He frowned. “Then tell me—what were you really doing at the crime scene?”

You sighed, pretending to think. “You’re the profiler, you tell me.”

“Seriously?” he sighed.

You grinned. “Oh, come on, doctor. You of all people should appreciate a good intellectual challenge.” You dragged out his name, watching with satisfaction as his ears turned a little pink.

“You’re trying to manipulate the conversation,” he said slowly.

You let out a laugh. “Manipulate is such a strong word, I just like hearing your voice.” You coo.

Spencer swallowed.

Before he could respond, the door swung open.

“Hotch,” an analyst panted, holding up a phone. “We, uh… just got a call from her unit chief. And he is furious.”

A pause.

Hotch took the phone and pressed a button, putting the call on speaker.

“Are you all out of your damn minds?!” a voice roared. “Do you have any idea what you just ruined?! She’s one of ours! Let her go. NOW.”

The room went silent.

Morgan groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

You stretched your arms out dramatically. “Well, this has been fun.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temple. “Uncuff her.”

The moment your wrists were free, you rolled them, wincing slightly. “That was so unnecessary.”

Morgan shook his head. “You should’ve just told us.”

You scoffed. “Please! Your work was lazy at best, I even looked like a federal agent. Damn that dress code…”

As you stepped past Spencer, you leaned in just enough for only him to hear.

“Thanks for the chat, genius,” you murmured. “I would say next time we won’t need the handcuffs but what’s the fun in that.”

Then, without another word, you walked out, leaving behind a stunned team and a very, very flustered Spencer Reid.

[firewasabeast]

The Kid Isn’t Okay

a little bucktommy fic. tags: mcd, grief, hurt/comfort. read below or on ao3.

Buck had stopped crying by the time they brought out Bobby’s body. Those final words kept repeating in his mind, a reminder of what he needed to do and who he needed to be.

He passed by Tommy without a word. Got in the rig and drove it back to the 118.

B shift was already there. The place was quiet. Everyone stared. No one asked questions.

He went straight to his locker, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed for the showers.

He cleaned the day off of him. Washed away the sweat, the dirt, the dried tears.

Once he had changed, he picked up his duffel, dug out his keys, and made a beeline for his car.

His phone buzzed. He had a missed call and text from Maddie, a text from Tommy too. He replied to Maddie first.

Gonna head home for a bit. I’ll be at the hospital later. Text me if you need anything.

He looked at Tommy’s message next. A simple question. Evan, are you okay?

He took a deep breath. His hand shook. He squeezed it into a fist until it stopped.

He answered.

I’m okay. Thank you for your help today. Sorry if I got you in too much trouble. If you need me to talk to someone, let me know.

He dropped his phone into the passenger seat and he drove home. He ignored the sounds of more messages coming through.

*****

Buck didn’t remember Eddie until he walked into his house.

He answered on the third ring. “Buck? Why are you calling me right now? What’s wrong?”

Buck didn’t even know the time. Could have been two in the morning, maybe six. He wasn’t sure.

“Bobby,” he breathed out.

Silence on the other end of the line.

Buck checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.

“When?” Eddie asked.

“Tonight. Not… Not long ago. It’s- everyone else is okay. Chim and Hen are in the hospital but they’ll be fine. Ravi’s alright. Just… it’s just Bobby.”

“Okay.” A pause. Eddie cleared his throat. “I’ll get the earliest flight.”

“There’s no plans yet or anything,” Buck told him. “I- no one knows when the service will be.”

“I wanna be there anyway. Buck, are… how are you?”

“I’m alright.”

“Buck-”

“No, I… Really, Eddie. I’m okay. Let me know when your flight gets in.”

He hung up before Eddie could get in another word.

*****

He took Jee the next day, so Maddie could spend a little extra time at the hospital.

“She can stay here with me, Buck,” Maddie whispered, Chimney sleeping nearby. “I brought crayons and coloring books. She’ll be fine.”

“No, I know. But a kid doesn’t wanna sit in a hospital room all day, and you need to be here with Chim.” He looked down at Jee, who was holding onto his hand, waiting to go. “We’ll have a good day, won’t we Jee?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah, we will!”

Maddie smiled at Jee, the smile fading when she glanced back up at Buck. “I’ll pick her up on my way home. I’ll probably leave around five.”

“No problem. She can stay the night if you need her to.”

Maddie reached out to give Buck’s arm a squeeze. “Are you sure about this, Evan? You really don’t have to. I know-”

“I’m okay, Maddie,” he interrupted. “I promise. Now Jee and I have some ice cream to go eat, don’t we Jee?”

“Oh! Yes!”

“Alright, say bye to your mom and we’ll go.”

Jee wrapped her arms around Maddie’s waist, giving her a hug. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Baby. Be good for Uncle Buck, okay?”

“Oh, she will,” Buck guaranteed with a smile. “We’ll have a great day.”

*****

Buck took his place at the head of Bobby’s casket. The weight of it was lighter than he expected, even when sharing it with five others.

He went through the motions at the procession. Stared at the firetruck in front of him as he and everyone else took each solemn step.

He didn’t look in Tommy’s direction.

Could feel him staring though. Could feel his eyes burning a hole into his head.

He focused on the task at hand.

Focused on getting Bobby to his final resting place.

It needed to be perfect.

Bobby deserved that.

His plot at the cemetery was a great location. A large tree overhead to provide shade. He’d have a big gravestone soon, engraved to show just how much his people cared for him.

There would be a bench too. Somewhere to sit when his family came to visit.

Buck stood there as they lowered him into the ground. Kept standing there until he could hear familiar footsteps coming up behind him.

Tommy.

He moved then. Avoiding a conversation that wasn’t needed.

The cemetery was nice.

Buck was okay with it.

*****

The 118 and Tommy were all gathered in a huddle at the reception, telling stories that no one else could understand. They’d joke, laugh for a bit, and then the bitter reminder of why they were there would spring up again.

“I keep thinking about it,” Eddie said between sips of his beer. “I should have been here.”

Hen shook her head. “Be glad you weren’t.”

“I just keep thinking, if I had been there then maybe… maybe it would’ve been different. Maybe Cap would still be here.”

Tommy, who had been keeping an eye on Buck all day, noticed an instant shift. His eyes lost focus, his finger tapping at the cup in his hand.

He took a silent step back, then another, before turning and walking away from the group.

Tommy followed.

“Evan,” he said, trying to get his attention without drawing anyone else’s. “Evan.” He jogged a couple of steps to reach him, planting a hand on his shoulder. “Evan?”

Buck stopped, turned. “What’s up?”

“It wasn’t a slight at you.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

There was a light missing from his eyes. A void in its place. He was looking at Tommy, but Tommy didn’t feel like he was seeing him.

“Evan.” He moved closer, making sure no one was close enough to listen. “You did everything you could. Nothing and no one would have changed the outcome.”

Buck’s eyebrows furrowed. “I know that.”

“Evan.”

“I’m fine, Tommy,” Buck said defensively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m going to get something to eat. Is that okay with you?”

Tommy’s shoulders dropped, lips in a tight line. “I just wanted to check on you, Evan. That’s all. I’m, um, I’m gonna be heading out in a minute.”

“Okay, well, I’m good here. Thanks for, uh, for all you did. See ya.” He was walking away before he finished the sentence, before Tommy could fully register the words coming out of his mouth.

Tommy left the reception ten minutes later. He couldn’t help but notice the empty parking spot where Evan’s car once was.

*****

A knock on his door had Buck rushing out from the bathroom. He hadn’t been home long. Had just gotten changed after a quick shower.

His hair was still damp, skin still warm from the water.

He wasn’t sure who could be on the other side. Maybe Maddie, wondering why he left so quickly. Maybe Eddie changed his mind about staying at the hotel another night.

What he didn’t expect was for Tommy to be standing there, a deep look of concern on his face.

“Wh- What are you-”

“I wanted to check on you,” he said, breezing past Buck as he walked into the house, uninvited.

Buck swung the door shut, then turned to him. “I told you earlier that I was fine.”

“I know what you said,” Tommy replied with a curt nod. “I just don’t believe you.”

Buck crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t really care what you be-”

“I saw you, when you were still in that building. I saw you break down in the hall.”

Buck sucked in a breath. He tried to play it off. “You should go.”

“I know how you’re really feeling," Tommy pushed, "and I know you’re not okay."

“Tommy, stop.”

“You’re shielding yourself from everyone and everything. You’re not allowing yourself to feel, Evan. This isn’t you. I know it’s not you.”

“He told me that I’d be okay!” Buck yelled suddenly, face becoming red with anger. Tears stung his eyes. “He told me they would need me! Said I’d be okay! He said that!”

“Oh, Evan-”

“No, I can’t!” He held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t need your sympathy, Tommy. I don’t need anything. I just need to be strong for them. I’m fine.”

Tommy stepped closer, stopping when Buck moved back to maintain distance. “Evan,” he started, voice calm and steady. “When people are… when they’re dying, they tell us what they think we need to hear. They tell us what they want for us. And sometimes, we can cling to that a little too tightly.”

“You don’t-”

“My mom. I was twelve, and I’ll never forget her telling me to keep my head up and not to cry for her. Evan, I- I know that Bobby wants you to be okay. Of course he does. And I know you want to be strong. But that’s not all you have to be. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to cry, or get mad, or need somebody. That’s not weakness. That’s love. You loved him, and he loved you. You’re allowed to hurt.”

Buck stood, silent, hands on his hips, eyes aimed towards the ground.

Tommy sighed. “Sorry. I- Sorry, Evan. I’ll go.”

As Tommy walked passed him, heading for the door, Buck reached his hand out, grabbing onto Tommy’s.

Tommy froze.

“He told me he loved me.”

“Evan.”

“He was th- the father I never had and I… I just… I- I-” his voice broke, his lip trembled, and the dam burst. He fell into Tommy, who barely managed to catch him and bring them gently to the ground. “I’m n- not okay, Tommy,” he wailed, barely able to suck in a breath. He clutched onto Tommy’s sleeve, tears soaking through his shirt. “I’m not okay, I’m not okay.”

“I know, I know,” Tommy soothed, holding Buck as close as he could.

“It h- hu… hurts so bad.”

“I know it does. It’s okay.”

“Please, T- Tommy, please d- don’t leave. I need... I need-”

“I’m not going anywhere, Evan,” Tommy promised. “I’m here. I’m staying.”

[likelysobbing]

nah let reader get her lick back now cause I can’t have us going down like this. Reader needs to get with one of the team immediately but it’s not like no rebound things it’s fr serious and Paige cannot stand it but who cares anymore?

𖥻 STUNNED. azzi fudd x reader x ex!paige bueckers (for the streets 2)

synopsis: paige’s eyes are on other girls, so azzi’s eyes sure as hell won’t let off of you now—and they’re the loveliest you’ve ever had the honor to look back at.

notes: RAHHH here it is! FOR THE STREETS part 2 ! hi nonnie! this is lightly, lightly, lightly LIGHTLY based off a song called makasarili malambing by hev abi and kristina dawn. sorry this took so long i was receiving my education! also, 3k+ words. if u read this u better read it all the way…tell me what u think too. i love interaction hehehe. also, i tried not to make paige suffer VIVIDLY, because i feel like it hurts more for player!paige to just silently regret #EL EM AY OH. thank u. also i put emphasis on eyes (adoration), the color green (envy), and make a lot of references to the previous fic. it’s linked on this post so go on and read it if you haven’t already <3 also, tagging @elalfywhore as per request hehe. hope you guys like it.

cw: READER’S A BIT OF A BITCH AT FIRST, But ends up folding because no one resists azzi bro, readers sassy, azzi is insistent, paige has avoidant attachment issues, no distinct establishment of a relationship but there is an implication of azzi and reader being more and both parties being okay with that (except paige. paige didn’t consent), PLAYER!paige

azzi always watched you.

you ignored it, especially while you were with paige—but she always watched you. azzi’s eyes seemed to favor trailing down your body more than anything else. whenever you ran into her and paige, back when you were still a couple, you had always kissed paige on the cheek—and azzi nearly leaned in everytime you approached her for a hug; maybe she expected a kiss on the cheek too— that’s funny, actually. but that’s unlikely, right? you ignore it. there was no way. no way she could have had any sort of interest in you.

especially now that you’ve practically estranged yourself from paige and her friends; that includes the basketball team. you haven’t said anything to them beyond ‘hi’ , ‘bye’ and ‘have a good day’—and they know why. they understand why. who wouldn’t want to do the equivalent of bury themselves in a hole if their ex girlfriend who they were so intent on marrying ended it all through a phone call while getting head from another woman? come on. you were sure they understood.

included in this very obvious mass-in-real-life-ghosting phase was none other than paige’s closest friend, miss goo goo eyes, miss azzi fuckin’ fudd.

you really tried to get her eyes off you, but it didn’t matter in the end.

azzi always watched you.

or like, maybe it was watch over instead of simply watch. watching over was more akin to what she did—she always checked in on you, maybe when she thought you weren’t looking her eyes would end up somewhere on your body that wasn’t necessarily scandalous—more so the space between your neck and shoulder or a collarbone. regardless, she had her eyes on you.

but watching you or not, you’re sure azzi didn’t mind you distancing yourself. you’re 100% sure she understood you being a bit too far to look at now? there was no need to dwell on it. you’re sure. you’re 100% sure.

… okay, well, maybe you’re 99.99% sure.

azzi sat across from paige, eyes slightly narrowing and widening as she felt the burn of yet another shot. the bass boomed in both of their ears, and each beat rung through their brain, but all azzi could focus on was that paige had let you go.

you. sweet, lovely, you.

she knew she wasn’t being slick when she watched you—her eyes always seemed to rake down every one of your features, and she wasn’t embarrassed about it. you were beautiful, and in paige’s arms you found your place. azzi couldn’t trespass on that—not because of paige, but because of you. you genuinely believed paige was inlove with you—pathetic, unheard of, even—but with how paige treated you, azzi began to believe it too… or she would’ve, if she knew paige less.

azzi didn’t rain on your parade of delusions hemmed by paige’s beautifully sown in lies.

but she wouldn’t deny that you would look better with her.

“you’re thinking again.”

there it is; paige was never one to think a lot, so she always questioned why azzi did. her decisions spoke for themselves. azzi pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue, tilting her head just enough to turn her nose up at paige, who grins like she knows what this look is. azzi always seem to come up with the craziest shit, and right now—paige’s excited to see what she comes up with next.

“what you thinking of?” uconn’s number five asks, that drunken lilt unmistakable as she balanced speaking to uconn’s #35 and getting a lap dance from the girl she beckoned over (she knew nothing about her besides the fact she had a nice ass). azzi shakes her head, one side of her lips quirking up. that mystery only serves to make paige even more curious—as always, she doesn’t think twice about digging deeper.

“nah, come on, there’s something—“

“no, paige,”

“there’s someone.”

well, azzi can’t deny that, can she?

so, she burrows deeper into her seat and looks away. paige points at her like she just connected all the dots, going “oh!” like a frat boy surprised that his hunch was even correct. “who’s she?”

“she’s a she.”

“she’s a she and her name is what?”

“she.”

“that’s not a name, bro—“

“how do you know she isn’t a name?”

“bro. don’t do this. i’m drunk.”

by this point, azzi’s (a little bit!) drunk too. there’s adrenaline in her veins; sprinkle in that crazy audacity that paige seems to have all the time, and she could simply say what’s on her mind right now. or, maybe she should just say it to get it off her chest.

“your ex.” azzi murmurs. paige’s eyes darken, flickering from the common deviousness azzi’s so familiar with to something genuine she can’t seem to place. her jaw tightens, smile faltering just enough to make azzi’s own quirk up.

the lights flicker from red, yellow, green and purple randomly. by this point, she’s used to the strain—shes even memorized the pattern. the lights are going from red, to yellow, green, purple— purple again. so why … is paige all green?

“sorry, i don’t mean to impose,” was what she said to you first. you couldn’t even register she was near you at all. why was she even here, sitting next to you in a nearly empty library she’d probably benefit more studying alone in? you weren’t even in the same major. if she had a test to study for, you’d be of no help.

it was stupid of you to even assume studying was on her mind.

she just… did her own thing. in silence. she didn’t push, didn’t press, didn’t— she didn’t do anything. she was just on her phone. why was she in the library if she didn’t have any work to do? she had a whole friendgroup—maybe she did it to get away from them? wait, but why would she need to get away from them? did she need to hide? was she annoyed? why would she be annoyed? well, you don’t suppose it was paige, paige would definitely be quite an annoyance—

“yes?”

her voice is soft. softer than a feather landing on your skin. yet, like a feather, amidst how light her voice is—you feel it. it’s one word, but it takes just that to make you feel the one feeling you know will lead to more than multiple disasters.

interest.

you are interested in her.

azzi fudd’s big brown eyes were something you (and anyone in your place) could only resist for so long, and with one bat of her eyelashes and the flash of her sweet smile that—oddly—didn’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth. atleast, not like it usually did. you never saw her as anything more than paige’s bestfriend who was kind of into you (but also simultaneously there was no way she was into you because she was so pretty).

“you’ve been silent for the past two minutes.”

you blink. “… sorry.”

azzi smiles, again, and this time— you can’t help but smile back.

but it’s not that serious, isn’t it? there’s no harm in introducing new people into your life. there’s no harm even if it’s your ex’s bestfriend who’s watched you with for so long, and with such pretty eyes. there’s like, literally no harm.

you wouldn’t let there be any harm. you could open your heart to her a little. deal with her presence if it’s constant. bite back when needed, push away when called for, right?

“that’s okay.” she replies to you smoothly, looking back at her phone. “—just haven’t seen you in a while, you know.” she offers, and you freeze up. she doesn’t stop speaking. “i kind of.. missed you being close. like i get why—i understand, too, i just— you know..”

“yeah, i know you know. paige wasn’t really subtle with the breakup.” you murmured, “did she send you here to check on me, azzi?”

azzi blinks, scandalized by the accusation. “what… no? i don’t—i would never. i’m not like her— i mean, not like that— i just.. wanna be here?”

you raise an eyebrow, skeptically. “at this specific library?” and azzi inhales, “please don’t make me say what i know you know already.”

“i know a lot of things. but i don’t know what you think i know.”

“don’t you?”

“do i?”

“i just wanna be with you.”

that was easier to get out than you expected. hm, okay. okay— you tilt your head. “you’ve been with me enough, with how much you seem to hang around paige.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i’ve only ever known you as one of her minions.”

azzi’s eyes widen, and she nearly gasps—once again— SCANDALIZED, by your statement—but she doesn’t. infact, you don’t expect what she does—because she takes your jab in stride.

“wooow, minions, huh? okay, well—why don’t you try to get to know me beyond it?”

“i’d actually rather not. i know who you hang out with.”

“just because i hang out with her doesn’t mean—“

you interrupt her with the zip of your backpack and the slam! of your books closing. “you’re all talk. you never act.”

azzi tries to cut you off with a little “hey, wait—“, her hand on your wrist, her eyes wide and pleading but you do not budge.

you shake her hand off your wrist when she tries to stop you from standing up. it’s the perfect picture of cold ruthlessness you know paige doesn’t believe you have—and you know what? if azzi is going to act like a messenger pigeon, which you assume she is, then you’re going to make sure she has a lot to say to paige when she comes back.

unbeknownst to you, azzi looks at what was once your chair and frowns. she feels your absence more than paige does. more than paige ever will.

and it stings. both for you, and her.

she comes to you again. this time, you’re in another library, and somehow she has enough devotion to presumably ruining your life that she finds you. she smiles when she sees you, waving with a tiny ‘hello’.

you place your bag onto the chair next to you and go back to work. you’re in the zone, there’s nothing stopping you— apparently besides the girl plopping your bag down onto the (dirty!) floor. how rude. how does she have the nerve to sit next to you? why does she still think you’re good? she may want to ‘be in your presence’ but who said anything about you wanting to be in hers? what the hell does she think shes doing?

“i think maybe you should let me tell you what i’m doing here.”

“i actually think you should leave.”

“i’ve only sat next to you twice.”

“twice too many.”

theres a silence on the other end and you think you won. you can’t help the smile on your face—the rejection felt good, in a sort of cruel way. azzi didn’t have any part in you and paige’s downfall, but she did stand by and watch it—you—burn.

so you’d set fire to whatever she was dreaming of in return.

“i always thought you looked better with me.”

record scratch.

“you’re crazy.”

“i am not.” she replies, “just a tad bit tipsy.”

“it’s nine pm?” you scoff, and she shrugs, “pre-game. anyway, i mean it. i always thought you looked better with me. you would, wouldn’t you?”

this time, you leave in a hurry. there’s literally nothing but ‘evacuate’ in your head as you rush to pack your bags, spouting whatthefuckwhatthefuck in your brain as azzi, realizing the utter stupidity of her actions, begins to flail her arms around directionless as she tries to stop you from leaving again.

“okay maybe that was a little bit uncalled for, i’m sorry let me rephrase—“

“no, i am not letting you— and no, i do not wanna find out. you got me fucked all the way up—“

“listen, okay, i just think you’ve always been out of her league—“ she tries to reason, and you look at her incredulously.

“you’re talking about paige bueckers.” you say, back now turned to azzi as you begin to walk out.

azzi shakes her head, already toeing behind you— “i’m talking about my close friend. one who couldn’t see your worth— please, will you let me try again? god, i’m sorry— you’re just so pretty, okay? and you’re so fucking sweet, you have such a pretty face and i just can’t help but look at you—“

“that is so creepy, azzi.”

“it is! i’m sorry!” she whines, obviously more than tipsy, “i’m sorry! just—“ she takes you by the hand, and you freeze up because it’s been quite a while since you’ve had physical contact that had even a smidge of romantic intent, and when you look back— god, there it is.

big, brown eyes.

looking right at you, a tad bit glossy—wide, and paired with by far the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “please.” she whispers, keeping in mind how you’re technically still in the library and she’s been looked at thrice for her theatrics—“please? just… let me hang around. i’m not going to force anything i just—want to know you.”

you’re stunned.

you’re in no state to properly answer; your mind is going a mile a minute, and so in desparation to just speak— you speak with your heart.

“nnn… okay.”

that was your heart. it forgot all reason, dignity, and self respect, apparently.

maybe azzi giving you a wide, toothy smile was worth it though.

“you’re seeing her?” paige repeated, some drink she forgot the name of swirling in her cup. azzi nodded, “figured she’d need something soft to land on.” she murmured, and though her words seemed casual—there was more meaning to them than paige could understand. azzi’s tone was expectant, hopeful—she wanted something to bloom between the two of you—something nice. pretty. good.

“and what is that? your chest?” paige’s reply interrupts her, and though she tries to sound teasing—she sounds more... irritated.

“maybe.” azzi grins.

“get outta here.” paige scoffs, taking another swig of her drink as she slumps back into her chair. “you can have her, it’s whatever bro. liter-ally whatever.”

“mhm.”

azzi’s nonchalance only bothers paige even more.

“i hope you understand i’m not ready yet.” was the first thing you said right after that awkward moment back at the library, “for a relationship, i mean. like, this fast.” you clarified.

azzi nodded, bouncing off you well, “oh, me too—you don’t need to see me as a threat. i just want to know you. i know it’s going to be hard, considering well.. your ex is my best friend. paige doesn’t mind—“ she pauses, before trying to reword. “i mean that—“

“oh, that’s fine. i can tell she doesn’t.” you wave it off, and azzi just smiles apologetically as she continues. “even if it’s hard on the both of us, i want to see where this goes. i’ve watched you too long to not want to be close.” azzi shyly murmurs, before trying to rekindle a lighter atmosphere— “just don’t get sassy with me, okay? i don’t like fighting with you.”

it’s been five months now. since she’s said that.

specifically, since azzi began to try to woo you. every flower she gave was always your favorite one, every ramble you graced her with was met with actual listening ears and comprehension, and nearly every thing you wanted? you had it in your hands the next day. azzi wasted no time in trying to show you she in fact, wasn’t like bueckers (who seemed to be meaner these past weeks, impossibly)—you never had to doubt her.

like actually. you never had to doubt azzi.

she didn’t knock on your door three times, but she was… special. enough. to have a key by the third month. she didn’t look you in the eye all that much, too shy to properly maintain it, but you knew she watched over you anyway. and when she held your hand, she was the one that squeezed first.

even if she hasn’t popped the question yet, there is no doubt in your mind that she’s yours already. she may have had grandeur, but unlike paige, she did not let it define her love for you. no, she won you over by the littlest things. the things that mattered.

its been five months now. since she’s said that.

and it’s felt like… six / seven … years?

however long it’s been, you know there’s a connection. and azzi knows too, because why wouldn’t she? she somehow knows everything. there’s always solutions to problems with her, always an answer to a math equation or an existential crisis— its all so different.

different from paige, you mean.

with azzi, you’re always… stunned— from how much effort she puts in, how bright her smile is, how she never seems to not have time for you—hell, you’re stunned whenever you see her. you know there’s something there, but you don’t know who’s going to make a move first—or atleast, when she is.

you don’t know if you should care at all. you don’t know if you should put yourself first, or if you even have real questions. you can’t even ask azzi like you’ve formed a habit of doing because she somehow always says the right things—you can’t even muster up a question for her: what would you say? ‘bro please kiss me already?’ no way.

“you ready to go?” azzi’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink to see her holding her hand out. ah, that’s right— you’re hanging out tonight. she’s taking you to her favorite spot across the town—that’s nice. you can’t wait to be with her.

you have so many questions you can’t muster, but maybe you don’t need to ask. maybe you just need to feel—her touch lingers far more than it stays, always tingling on your arm or your back; her absence causes you more heartache than you’d like; … it’s just her. maybe there are no more questions. maybe you don’t have questions, but either way, azzi has answers. she might as well be the answer to everything, actually. maybe there’s no need to dwell, no need to label it yet—lord knows what azzi wants.

you take azzi’s hand and she squeezes it first like she always does. it makes you smile wider this time.

this time, love is kind to you. it is soft and slow and yet passionate all the same. you don’t know where it might lead but the look in her eyes is worth it. this tenderness is worth it.

and you’re not afraid, wherever this might lead you.

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even. yet she’s not as big and bad as shes made herself out to be right now. not at all.

in the same booth she was a few months ago, paige now sits alone. there are girls aching to get home with her, and she’s half-picking who should get that honor—but she’s trying to distract herself more.

the lights go red, to yellow, green, purple—purple again. so why does she feel so green?

envy is a rattle snake, and it wraps around her entire body. it squeezes tight, cutting circulation off to the point she’s so stiff she might explode— but it’s not because of you and azzi.

it’s not.

not even when her jaw clenches at the thought of you. and azzi. azzi is her bestfriend, and when she outright admitted to thinking about making moves on you—paige brushed it off with a laugh and a playful “she can’t even talk to half of us, bro—i got her heart broken … or like heartbroken or something.” but now, here she is.

and she’s not heart broken. shes not even bothered at all. she’s not.

she just doesn’t like to see you so close. why would she want you close? she’s done her time. pulled you in closer. you always burrowed in deep, she felt you in her heart. maybe that’s what sickened her— the feeling of endearment. you tried to reach your way in, but to paige it felt like you were tearing her apart—ripping her to shreds to crush the organ in your hands and make the victory against her sweeter.

she’s not heart broken. why would she be? there’s no one here breaking her heart.

there’s no one she lets close enough to even have a shot at it.

there is only her. and while she may not accept it, especially now? now that you are gone? now that she’s driven you away like she once did with every other girl who’s ever tried to come close—although you came closest—who came her way?

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even.

but her heart breaks, and she’s the one breaking it.

@likelysobbing.

[aajjks]

Mommy Issues (V)

Synopsis. They wanted you, they needed you.

Pairing. Yandere single dad jungkook x fem reader

Warnings. Yändërë bëhàvìøür, ëmøtìøñàl mánìpùlàtìøñ, pøssëssìvënëss, dëlùsìøñàl thìñkìñg, gùìlt-trìppìñg, jùñgkøøk bëìñg wëìrdly søft ànd scàrÿ àt thë sàmë tìmë, ùnhéàlthÿ àttàchmënt, sèdúctìón, lónlínèss.

note. OH MY GOD I KNOW YOU GUYS HAVE PROBABLY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS BUT LIKE SERIOUSLY I MISS THIS SO MUCH SO I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL LIKE THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE SHARE YOUR FEEDBACK AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED REPLY UNDER THIS POST!

series masterlist.

•••

The house is too quiet.

That’s the first thing jungkook notices when they get home.

Seol runs inside ahead of him, dropping his little backpack by the door like always, shoes half-kicked off, already calling for his tablet.

Jungkook doesn’t move.

He stands in the hallway with the door still cracked open behind him, hand on the knob, heart way too loud in his ears.

He can’t stop thinking about you.

Your face.

The way you looked at him when he said it. Like he’d shattered something between you with that one sentence.

You’re not his mother. You’re just his teacher.

God.

He didn’t mean it. Or maybe he did. He’s not even sure anymore.

He just wanted to hurt you the way you hurt him. The way you made his son feel like he wasn’t normal.

Like he loved too hard. Like needing you was a problem.

But it’s not.

It’s not.

Jungkook locks the door, finally, and shrugs off his jacket. He can hear seol’s little voice somewhere in the house, but he can’t make out the words.

Probably talking to his tablet again.

Or talking to you. He’s been doing that lately. Pretending to FaceTime you.

It’s cute. It’s scary.

Jungkook walks to the kitchen and grabs a beer, doesn’t bother with a glass. His hand is still shaking a little when he takes the first sip.

Why did you look so… disappointed?

Why did you make him feel like some broken thing?

You smiled at him just days ago. You tucked his son’s scarf under his chin. You touched his shoulder when you laughed at that dumb joke he made.

You wanted them.

He saw it.

So why are you backing away now?

What changed?

“Daddy,” a small voice says from the hallway. Seol’s peeking around the corner, thumb in his mouth. His eyes are wide. Wet. “Are you mad?”

Jungkook blinks. “No, baby. I’m not mad.”

Seol shuffles into the room and wraps his little arms around jungkook’s leg. “Miss yn didn’t say bye to me.”

And just like that, jungkook wants to punch a wall.

He crouches down slowly and cups seol’s face in his hands. “She still loves you. Okay? She’s just confused. Grown-ups get confused sometimes.”

Seol sniffs. “But I didn’t mean to be bad…”

“You weren’t bad.” Jungkook kisses his forehead. “You were perfect. You were just trying to protect what’s yours.”

He means it.

He means every word.

Jungkook tucks his son into bed a little early that night. Reads him his favorite story twice.

Holds him until his breathing slows.

Then sits beside him for a long time, staring at the glowing nightlight and the picture on the wall.

The one seol drew.

Stick figures. Him. Daddy. And you.

Under a rainbow.

Labeled “our family.”

Jungkook stares at it until his throat hurts.

You don’t get to walk away.

You made them need you.

So now you have to stay.

•••

The morning starts soft.

Sunlight spills, Jungkook wakes up before his alarm, which never happens, but something about the quiet feels right today.

He stretches and slips out of bed without waking seol, who somehow ended up tangled in the covers beside him again. Tiny limbs everywhere.

Drool on his pillow.

God, he’s perfect.

Jungkook stares for a moment, just watches his son’s chest rise and fall, messy hair sticking up in every direction.

He’s all he has.

He’s all he needs.

And now… they have a mission.

•••

“Come here, baby.” Jungkook kneels in front of seol, zipping up his puffy little coat. “Let me fix your hair.”

Seol groans dramatically, already eating a rice cracker in one hand while holding a toy car in the other. “You always make it look weird.”

“It’s called handsome.” Jungkook grins, ruffling the front until it doesn’t look like a bird nest. “Miss yn likes it like this, remember?”

Seol perks up at that.

Jungkook sees it. Sees the glow in his face whenever you’re mentioned. It stings.

He ties seol’s shoelaces slowly.

“You know what?” Jungkook says softly. “I think… maybe we don’t talk to miss yn too much today.”

Seol frowns. “Why?”

“She’s a little… busy lately.” He keeps his tone gentle. Like it’s nothing serious. Like he isn’t burning inside. “And sometimes when people are busy, they don’t like being bothered.”

“But… she likes when I talk to her…”

Jungkook nods, brushing seol’s cheek. “I know. I know you love her.”

He swallows.

“But today… maybe just wave. Be polite. But not too much. Let’s give her space, okay? If she wants to talk, she’ll come to us.”

Seol is quiet for a second, then nods. “Okay…”

Jungkook kisses the top of his head. “That’s my boy.”

He zips up his own jacket, picks up seol’s little lunchbox, and heads for the door with his son’s tiny hand tucked in his.

They’re the perfect picture.

A young father. A devoted son. Matching shoes.

But inside?

Inside jungkook is ice.

He’s still angry. Still hurt. You made him feel small yesterday. Like he wasn’t doing enough. Like his love wasn’t enough.

So fine.

If you think you can turn away from them, he’ll show you what that feels like.

You want to act like you’re just the teacher?

Then that’s all you’ll be.

For now.

•••

The classroom is already buzzing when you look up and see them walk in.

Jungkook with his hand on seol’s back, guiding him through the little sea of cubbies and jackets. He doesn’t even glance at you.

Not even once.

Your heart dips. But it’s fine. You’re used to parents being distant after difficult conversations. You can handle this. You’re professional.

But then seol walks past you too.

No bright “miss yn!”

No little hug around your waist like he usually does.

Not even eye contact.

He just walks straight to his seat and sits down, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

You feel it like a slap.

You blink. Smile. Try not to let it show on your face. “Good morning, seol.”

Nothing.

He doesn’t respond.

Jungkook is standing at the door, arms crossed, silent. He meets your eyes now, just briefly. His expression is unreadable.

Cold.

“Thank you for yesterday,” you manage to say, keeping your voice soft. “I hope—;”

He cuts you off. “We’re good.”

That’s all.

Then he’s gone.

And you’re standing there like a ghost.

•••

You make it through the first hour of class on autopilot.

Your voice is gentle. Your instructions are clear. But your eyes keep flicking to the corner where seol is sitting, shoulders small, lips pressed together, refusing to look at you.

Your chest aches.

You want to walk over and crouch beside him. Ask him what’s wrong. Run your hand through his hair the way he used to love.

But you don’t.

Because you know what this is.

You’ve seen it before.

You’ve felt it before.

A man with power. Pulling the strings. Turning love into a punishment.

You press your hand to your stomach for a second, right where the pain used to be. The pain that never really left.

You remember the hospital. The pale blue gowns. The way your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

The nurse who asked, “Was this your first?”

You nodded.

You lied.

That baby was already real to you.

You already loved them.

And now? now you’re losing another one.

Even if seol’s not yours, he was something close.

Something sacred.

And you don’t know how to stop the tears welling in your eyes as you turn away from the class, just for a second. Just long enough to breathe through it.

You’re just his teacher.

That’s what jungkook said.

That’s what he wants you to be.

But he doesn’t know what it cost you to love his son the way you did.

And he doesn’t know what it’s doing to you to let go.

•••

You wait until story time. The kids are all sitting on the carpet, half-listening, half-daydreaming.

Seol is sitting cross-legged at the very edge, back straighter than usual, like he’s trying not to look comfortable.

You pretend it’s nothing.

You keep your voice steady as you read, but your eyes flick to him again and again.

He doesn’t raise his hand like he used to. Doesn’t giggle when you do silly voices. Doesn’t lean against your leg, even though he’s sitting right there.

You close the book and say, “Okay, let’s go get ready for snack time.”

As the kids scramble up, you place a gentle hand on seol’s shoulder, just like you always used to.

He flinches.

It’s small. Barely there. But he flinches.

And then he stands up without looking at you. Walks away without saying a word.

You follow him.

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Seol…”

He stops at the sink, washing his hands.

You kneel beside him, slow and careful, like he’s something fragile.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

He just nods.

It shatters you.

Because seol is never like this. He always has something to say. Always wants to show you something, tell you something, ask for something.

You try again.

“You’re being really quiet today,” you murmur. “Did something happen?”

He dries his hands. Doesn’t meet your eyes.

“No,” he says.

Just that. No.

It’s not angry. It’s not rude. It’s just…

Empty.

You’re still kneeling there as he walks away to join the other kids, and you feel like the floor could split open beneath you and you’d just disappear into it.

You sit on your knees for a few more seconds before you slowly get up, your legs numb, your hands trembling.

This isn’t just about him being tired.

This is deliberate.

And now you know exactly who taught him how to do it.

•••

You find a moment alone in the staff bathroom. You close the door. You sit on the closed toilet lid and press your hands to your face.

You don’t cry.

Not yet.

But you feel it creeping up your throat like nausea.

You were a mother once.

Not for long. Not even long enough to hear a heartbeat. But you felt it. Felt them.

And when they left, you thought that maybe that part of your heart would just stay empty forever.

And then there was seol.

Seol who clung to your leg the first week of school. Seol who drew you pictures of his “family” and put you right in the middle.

Seol who looked up at you with love like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You didn’t try to take his mother’s place.

You didn’t mean to.

But he gave you that role.

And now. now he’s being taught to unlove you. To unneed you.

To keep you out.

And it hurts in a way you can’t even explain. It’s a grief that has no name.

Because how do you mourn a child that was never really yours?

How do you mourn a second time?

•••

The day ends slow.

Painfully slow.

Every smile you force feels like peeling a band-aid off skin that’s still bleeding underneath.

Seol doesn’t come to show you his crayon drawing.

Seol doesn’t ask for help opening his snack.

Seol doesn’t even flinch when you help another student zip their backpack.

You keep checking. Watching. Hoping.

But he’s gone. Still right there. but emotionally, he’s already been walked away.

The final bell rings and your chest squeezes like it always does when it’s time for dismissal.

Usually, you’re crouched down with open arms when seol runs into them, squealing about something that happened at lunch.

Usually, he makes you promise to come watch him draw chalk outside before his dad gets there.

Today, he stands by the door like a stranger.

You call each name one by one as the kids are picked up, and you pretend your eyes aren’t glancing to the street every five seconds.

And then you see him.

Jungkook.

Standing tall in that all-black outfit like he’s about to bury you.

His hair’s still a little messy, and his hand is tucked into his pocket, but his face?

Blank.

Cold.

You call seol’s name and the little boy lights up. It’s instinctive. Like a switch was flipped.

He runs.

Straight into his father’s arms.

“Appa!” he squeals.

You watch jungkook drop to one knee to scoop him up. Seol throws his arms around his neck, burying his nose against his cheek.

“I missed you!” he says.

You feel your heart rip a little more.

Because he used to say that to you.

You see jungkook’s mouth twitch with the faintest smile as he lifts his son, holding him close like a trophy.

You try to look away. You try to breathe through it.

But then jungkook looks straight at you.

And that’s when he twists the knife.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks seol, loud enough that you can hear.

The boy nods quickly. “Uh huh! I didn’t talk to miss yn just like you said!”

Your stomach drops.

Jungkook doesn’t flinch.

He just brushes his son’s hair back gently and murmurs, “Good boy.”

You nearly stumble.

There’s this heavy silence pressing against your ribs and you’re trying not to show how fast your pulse is racing. You’re trying not to cry.

He meets your eyes again, gaze calm—almost amused.

Like this is what you asked for.

Like this is what you deserve.

“You ready to go, bud?” he says, and seol nods again, still clinging tight.

And then jungkook turns.

Walks away without a word to you.

Not even a glance back.

You’re left standing there, arms empty, watching the boy you loved be carried away like you were never anything at all.

This is the consequence of your concern.

•••

The ride home is quiet at first.

Jungkook adjusts the mirror. Checks the street. Buckles seol in, tight and gentle.

He doesn’t speak.

Not until he knows you’re watching.

He saw your face at pickup. Saw the pain, the guilt, the confusion spinning like a storm behind your eyes. You looked so lost. So broken.

It made him hard.

He pulls out from the school lot slow and smooth, his voice low but firm.

“You did good today, seol-ah.”

The little boy beams in his car seat. “I did what you said! I didn’t talk to miss yn!”

Jungkook hums.

His hand rests on the steering wheel but his knuckles are white from how tightly he’s gripping it.

“That’s right,” he says softly. “Because she’s not your mommy. You remember that now, right?”

Seol nods, a little slower this time. His voice drops, quieter. “Yeah… she’s just my teacher.”

“That’s right, baby,” jungkook murmurs. “She’s just a teacher. And teachers don’t get to love you like I do.”

He glances in the rearview mirror. Seol is kicking his legs gently, humming to himself now.

It’s almost too easy.

He knows it hurt you. The silence. The rejection. He knows how tender you are.

he’s watched it grow.

The way you used to touch seol’s hair like it was sacred. The way you bent down to his level and told him he was brave. The way you always said our boy during conferences.

And yet, you had the nerve to stand there and say he had a problem for loving you too much.

No, baby. You just didn’t understand. You still don’t.

But you will.

Jungkook reaches into the console and pulls out a small pack of gummies. He hands it back to his son.

“Good boys get treats,” he says, and seol lights up.

You should be here to see this.

But you’re not.

That’s the point.

“You know…” jungkook starts again, voice dripping low, almost wistful. “If she was your mommy…”

He trails off.

Lets it hang.

Seol tilts his head, curious. “What?”

Jungkook smiles, slow and secretive.

“If she was your mommy, she’d be here in the car with us. She’d sit next to you, maybe even hold your hand. She’d help you pick what to eat for dinner. She’d tuck you in and kiss your forehead.”

Seol goes quiet.

Jungkook watches his son blink up at the ceiling, his little mind drawing pictures he can’t fully understand yet.

“She’d love you forever,” jungkook finishes softly.

And in his head— he sees it.

You.

In the passenger seat.

Hair messy, eyes soft. Your hand resting on the center console, close enough to touch. Seol in the back, giggling. A little family. His family.

But you ruined it.

You said things you shouldn’t have.

So now?

Now he’ll make you want it so badly you’ll beg to be part of it.

You’ll beg to be his.

“Appa,” seol says quietly, “do you think miss yn is sad?”

Jungkook’s smile grows.

That twisted, beautiful smile.

“Maybe,” he says.

And he drives the rest of the way home with that ache in his chest slowly fading into satisfaction.

Because you’re hurting.

Because you miss something that was never yours.

And because he knows—

It won’t be long until you come crawling back.

Begging to be her again.

Begging to be theirs.

•••

Later that night, the silence is too loud.

You’re still in your work clothes.

Sitting at the edge of your bed. Staring at the folded drawings seol made you two weeks ago.

Crayon hearts. Stick figures with messy smiles. One of them had you holding his hand and saying “I’m proud of you.”

He used to shove them into your hands every day like they were treasure.

You trace the wobbly letters with your finger and your throat tightens.

God, you miss him.

It’s been one day and you miss him like you lost a limb.

And it hurts even more because you know that detachment wasn’t his idea. Seol’s just five.

A soft, clingy little thing who loves big and easy.

He doesn’t understand emotional punishment. He doesn’t understand passive rejection.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you.

Someone told him to do it.

But you don’t blame jungkook.

Because maybe… maybe he’s right.

Maybe you were too harsh in that meeting.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said it like that. Called his son possessive. Said “he’s not your mother” out loud.

It sounded so clinical. So cold. You didn’t mean it to be. You just wanted to help.

But now?

Now that warm, sweet little boy is looking right through you.

And the worst part?

You can’t even be mad at him. You get it.

You press your hand to your chest, eyes blurring.

You’ve always been maternal. Even when you tried to pretend you weren’t anymore.

But no one knows what you’ve lost. No one knows the way your arms still ache when you wake up some nights.

No one knows how your heart cracked in half when you lost your baby in that apartment with the thin walls and the screaming man who never loved you.

You never got to hold her.

But seol…

He made you feel like a mother again.

For just a moment. He gave you the thing you were so sure you’d never have.

And now he’s gone.

You blink back tears, but they come anyway. Hot and heavy. You curl in on yourself and try to swallow the sobs.

Maybe this is your punishment.

You tried to set boundaries. You tried to do the right thing. But it feels like you’ve only made it worse.

And the image that haunts you the most?

Seol’s face as he ran into his father’s arms. That tiny, bunny smile.

The soft brown hair, those Bambi eyes. He looks just like jungkook.

You can’t stop seeing it.

The way he clung to him. The way he laughed. The way he didn’t even look back.

You lost two people in that parking lot today.

And you don’t know how to get them back.

Maybe you shouldn’t.

Maybe you can’t.

You don’t even notice your phone vibrating at first. You wipe your face and blink at the screen.

Mr Jeon:

[9:52 PM]

I hope your day was peaceful, Miss yn. Seol had a wonderful one. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him. Truly.

You stare.

No name. No heart emoji. Just that cold politeness that stabs like a knife.

You type a reply. Then delete it.

Then cry harder.

Because you miss them.

And the worst part?

You’re starting to believe you don’t deserve them.

•••

The house is quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that’s peaceful. No, this is curated. Designed. Controlled.

The lamp in the living room hums softly. The wine glass on the table is half full. The screen of his phone glows against his skin, illuminating the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

He reads the message again.

I hope your day was peaceful, Miss yn. Seol had a wonderful one. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him. Truly.

Polite. Distant. Perfect.

It sounds just fake enough to stab.

He takes a slow sip of wine, eyes flicking to the couch across from him.

Seol is fast asleep there, curled up with his favorite blanket. Lips parted. Cheek smushed against the pillow.

One arm clinging to the stuffed rabbit you gave him on his birthday.

It’s kind of cruel, really. How easily seol trusts.

But that’s what makes this so easy.

So beautiful.

Jungkook reaches for his phone again. Opens his camera. Snaps a quiet photo of the boy, soft and small and vulnerable.

The bunny toy in frame. That’s the detail that makes his smile widen.

He hovers his thumb over your contact. The urge to send it pulses in his fingertips.

You’d break down if you saw it.

He knows you would.

You’d take one look at that little boy with his matching smile and think about everything you’ll never have.

Not unless he gives it to you.

Not unless he lets you have them again. But he doesn’t send the photo. Not yet.

He wants to wait.

Let you sweat. Let your guilt simmer until it burns. Until you’re begging to be let back in. Until you think you’re the one who left.

That’s the thing about good manipulation. It’s never rushed.

He’s been alone a long time. He’s gotten good at waiting. And now that he has something worth fighting for worth keeping? he’s not about to let it go.

You were too good at loving seol.

Too gentle.

Too warm.

And when you looked at him with those soft eyes, when you smiled and asked if he’d been eating properly, if he was sleeping okay.

jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about it for days.

Not because he wanted your care.

Because he wanted it forever.

From the same person.

Over and over. On his terms.

His.

He leans back, phone resting on his chest. Wine glass in his other hand. His gaze drifts to the side table where a folded paper rests.

One of seol’s drawings.

Stick figures. You, him, and seol. All holding hands. Big red heart in the middle.

He keeps it close. Like a promise. Like a prophecy.

You’ll come back.

You have to.

Because you were made to be theirs.

And the longer he keeps you out, the harder you’ll try to claw your way in.

•••

You read the message five times.

Then a sixth.

You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence of your apartment suddenly heavy. Your phone is still in your hand, thumb trembling slightly over the screen.

The glow of it makes your eyes sting, but you can’t look away.

I hope your day was peaceful, Miss yn. Seol had a wonderful one. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him. Truly.

Miss yn.

Truly.

Your chest tightens.

You almost laugh. He used to call you “yn” like it was a delicate, precious thing. And now you’re back to Miss yn.Like a stranger.

Like the woman across the hall who used to matter.

You set the phone down, face down on the comforter, like it’s infected.

But it doesn’t stop the ache.

Because all you can think about is seol.

Sweet, clingy seol. The boy who used to throw his arms around you and bury his little nose in your neck when he didn’t want to say goodbye.

The boy who used to smile like you were the sun.

And today? He didn’t even meet your eyes.

He clutched his backpack straps too tightly and gave a quiet, polite “bye.” And that was it. No hug. No smile. Nothing.

And the worst part is— he looked just like his father.

The same bunny smile. The same soft, dark lashes and wide, unblinking eyes. The same ability to gut you without saying a word.

You press your hand to your stomach, not because it hurts—but because there’s a ghost of something that used to live there. Something you lost.

A baby that never made it.

Maybe you’re too soft.

Too maternal.

Maybe that’s why this hurts so much. Because somewhere in the back of your mind, you let yourself feel like a mother again.

And now it’s gone.

Stripped.

Ripped away with a smile and a formal text from the man who lives just across the hall.

You stand up too fast. You don’t know where you’re going, but you end up by the window.

Your building complex is quiet. The lights in jungkook’s apartment are still on.

You can’t see much from here—but it makes your chest ache anyway.

You press your fingers to the glass.

It’s pathetic, maybe.

But you just miss him.

Both of them.

You miss the boy who called you mama in his sleep, even though you told him not to.

You miss the father who used to watch you like you hung the stars, even when you pretended not to notice.

You pick up your phone.

You start to type a reply. Just something simple. Something soft.

I’m glad he had a good day. I’ve been thinking about him.

Delete.

Too much.

You try again.

Thank you for the update. Please let me know if he needs anything.

Too formal.

You delete it again.

In the end, you don’t send anything at all.

You just curl up on your side of the bed. The side that’s always cold. And you wonder— just for a second. what it would be like to live in the warmth of their home instead.

Even if it’s built on a lie.

Even if it hurts.

Because love always hurts. And you?

You already know what it’s like to lose a child.

You don’t think you can survive losing another—even if he was never yours to begin with.

•••

You feel weird.

Attached. Too attached.

You’ve been thinking about Seol all night. The way he brushed you off. The way he used to cling to you like you were his lifeline. Now he barely acknowledges you.

You never meant to get this close to a student.

But here you are. Sitting in your apartment, heart heavy. You’re too deep in this, too involved.

You need to clear your head.

You decide to go outside. Maybe the cold will help.

The wind hits you hard as you step out onto the balcony. It cuts through you. Makes your chest tighten.

You don’t expect it, but it hits you all at once.

You feel the tears.

You try to hold them back, but they fall anyway.

I have to make it up to him, you think.

Seol. The sweet boy who doesn’t even know what happened. He doesn’t understand why he’s being distant.

You should apologize. Maybe that’ll fix it.

Maybe if you talk to Jungkook tomorrow, maybe you can fix it.

But there’s a lump in your throat.

You know you’re being manipulated. You know this is more than just a mistake.

You’re already in too deep.

And as the wind whips around you, you don’t know how to stop yourself from falling even deeper.

•••

It’s almost midnight when you finally decide.

You’ll bring cookies. Just a small gesture. Something to say “I’m sorry” without using words.

It’s Saturday tomorrow—no school. You know they’ll be home. And maybe if Seol sees you outside of the classroom, it’ll soften him. Maybe he’ll remember how much you care.

You bake them yourself.

Sleep-deprived, face still puffy from crying, but your hands move like they know what to do.

Like they’re aching for something warm, something gentle, something motherly.

Chocolate chip. The kind he once said was his favorite.

You go to bed feeling a little calmer. A little bit stupid. But hopeful.

The next morning, you’re at their door by ten.

Your hand hovers over the doorbell.

Then— press.

A few seconds pass.

And then the door swings open.

Jungkook stands there.

He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a fitted black tee, like he didn’t expect company but somehow still looks devastating. His tattoos peek from the sleeves.

His hair is messy. He looks… domestic.

You almost forget why you’re there.

Then his eyes drop to the cookies in your hand.

You smile, nervously. “Um… I brought something for Seol. Just thought maybe— uhh I know it seems a little inappropriate that I’m here, but you know I’m here as a neighbor..”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

Not rude. But not welcoming, either.

Still, he opens the door wider.

“Come in.”

You step inside.

The apartment smells like detergent and lemon and something soft. You don’t know why that makes your chest ache.

You spot Seol curled up on the couch, a little blanket over his lap, cartoons playing softly on the TV.

But he doesn’t jump up when he sees you.

He just blinks.

“Hi sweetheart,” you say gently. He waves. A small, half-hearted wave.

And it punches the breath out of you.

You turn to Jungkook, trying to stay composed.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… wanted to see him. I felt bad.”

“Why?” he asks. His tone is innocent. Too innocent.

You blink. “After the meeting. I think maybe I… overstepped.”

He doesn’t reply.

You place the cookies on the counter.

“I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I hope he likes them.”

Jungkook nods slowly. Then he steps a little closer.

“You didn’t have to bring anything.”

His voice is low. Soft. He looks at you with those deep, unreadable eyes.

“But you did.”

You feel your stomach twist.

He walks past you, picks up one of the cookies, bites into it. Chews, thoughtful. Then…

“These are really good.”

You smile, a little. “I’m glad.”

He takes another bite. Still watching you.

“He missed you yesterday,” he says suddenly.

Your heart jumps. “He did?”

Jungkook nods, licking a bit of chocolate from his thumb.

“He told me after we got home. Said he missed your hugs. Your voice.”

You feel your eyes sting.

“I think he was just… confused,” you whisper.

“Maybe,” Jungkook says. “Or maybe he just needs someone who won’t leave.”

You stare at him.

His words are so simple.

But they feel like a blade.

“I never meant to—;”

“I know.”

Silence.

The TV buzzes softly in the background. You hear Seol’s soft humming from the couch.

The warmth of their home is thick around you, pulling you in.

And yet— why does it feel so lonely?

Why does it feel like you’re on the outside, looking in?

Like you’re being allowed in for just a moment. Just enough to crave it. Just enough to never forget what it felt like.

Jungkook looks at you for a long, long second.

Then he smiles.

Small. Gentle.

“You can stay for coffee if you want.”

•••

You sit on the edge of their couch with your hands curled around the warm coffee mug, trying to stop the ache in your chest from spreading.

The apartment is quiet, except for the sound of Seol’s cartoon.

Spider-Man zips across the screen in bright flashes of red and blue, his little voice chiming in every now and then.

But he doesn’t look at you.

Not once.

You thought maybe. just maybe he’d come over.

You baked. You apologized. You tried.

And now you’re sitting here feeling like an extra.

Like someone on the outside of a picture-perfect family.

You sip your coffee, throat tight.

Jungkook is across from you at the kitchen counter, leaning against it like he lives in a magazine.

His arms are crossed, tattoos on full display, the shirt hugging his chest in a way that’s way too intentional for a Saturday morning.

You try not to look.

But of course you do.

Because he’s beautiful. And soft in all the places you miss having. And strong in all the ways you don’t.

“Seol,” he calls softly. “Aren’t you gonna say thank you for the cookies?”

The little boy turns, mouth full of juice pouch, and gives you the same small wave from earlier. “Thank you, Ms. Yn.

“Yn,” Jungkook corrects, voice smooth. “She’s not at school.”

You blink.

Seol repeats, “Thank you, Yn.”

You smile, aching. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

But the ache doesn’t go away.

He turns back to the TV, curling deeper into his blanket. Like that’s all he needs. A cartoon. A blanket. His dad.

You watch the scene in front of you and feel something raw bubble in your chest.

This is what you wanted.

This is what you used to have. Before it was taken.

Before it was crushed.

You blink fast. Sip your coffee again. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“You alright?” Jungkook asks.

You nod. “Yeah.”

He tilts his head, a little smile playing on his lips.

“You don’t look alright.”

He moves closer.

Stands behind the couch. Behind you.

You feel the warmth of him. The weight of his gaze. The quiet power in the way he doesn’t speak unless he wantssomething.

“I just haven’t been sleeping,” you say.

“You should,” he murmurs. “You look like you need rest.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean it.”

He walks around the couch now. Closer. You feel the heat of him as he leans against the armrest near you.

“I think you need to let yourself be taken care of for once.”

You look up.

His eyes are so dark. So steady.

“You’re always taking care of other people. Of kids. Of their parents. Who takes care of you?”

The words drop into your chest like heavy stones.

“I’m fine,” you say. Too quick.

He doesn’t reply. Just sips his coffee, slow. His jaw tightens with every swallow.

And for some reason, watching him do something so simpleit wrecks you.

You wonder what it would feel like to sit like this every morning.

In silence. With coffee. With someone beside you.

Not alone in your apartment, holding your own body through another long night.

“You don’t have to pretend,” he says, voice low. “I see through it.”

You glance at him.

He’s watching Seol. But his words are for you.

“You’re lonely.”

You freeze.

“You don’t need to say it,” he adds. “It’s just written all over you.”

Your breath hitches.

You open your mouth. Close it.

The silence between you hums.

He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t move. Just sits there.

Radiating heat.

Smelling like woodsy cologne and dryer sheets and safety.

But the kind that’s too close to danger. Too close to falling.

“You can stay for lunch,” he says.

Not a question.

Just a line. A trap.

And something in you… something soft and broken wants to walk right into it.

[c0s-lettuce]

my own girlfriend hates me

joaquin torres x reader

synopsis: joaquin loves how clingy you are in the mornings. but he's thrown for a loop when he wakes up to you ignoring him.

word count: 0.8k

warnings/tags: fem!reader, fluff, established relationship

a/n: my very late contribution to the joaquin torres empire! short and sweet! hope you enjoy <3

Everything still feels fuzzy in your half-sleep. Outside, the birds have begun their song as the city wakes. Sunlight streams through the window, but you keep your eyes closed, blocking out the effects of the day.

You're safe and warm in Joaquin's arms. He lies behind you, his chest firm against your back. His hands are slipped under your shirt, pressed against the softness of your skin. You don't need to be anywhere today, so you simply relish in the moment.

But it's not long before a buzzing ringtone disrupts your peace. Behind you, Joaquin stirs, shifting away from you to reach his phone.

"Hello?" he mutters, his voice still a bit rough.

You can barely make out the voice on the other end. But you don't need to hear the words or be fully awake to know what's happening. Joaquin's being called away again.

"Alright, I got it," he affirms on the phone. "See you soon."

He ends the call and lets out a sigh. Placing his phone back down, he cuddles up to you again. He nuzzles his head against the back of your neck, placing a kiss below your ear.

"I have to go now," he murmurs softly.

You let a short hum in response, conveying nothing but a simple acknowledgement of his words. Joaquin doesn't think much of it yet.

He continues. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

This time, you give no response. He just hugs you tighter, peppering more kisses in the hopes of eliciting a stronger reaction from you.

"Hey," he tries to get your attention. "Aren't you going to try to get me to stay?"

"Mmm, no," you mumble, curling away from Joaquin.

He pauses, sensing something is wrong. Even at your most sleepiest, you'll at least let out a sad noise or try to hold onto him. But now, it's as if you want nothing to do with him.

He props himself up on his elbow. Even with your eyes closed, you can tell he's peering at you. You do your best to hold back a smile. But Joaquin, upon seeing your sleeping face, suddenly feels bad. He doesn't want to disturb your rest, so he leans in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Alright, bye baby. I love you," he says before quietly slipping out of bed.

Again, you don't respond. You remain still as Joaquin starts getting ready to leave. You hear him move around the bedroom, getting dressed and gathering his things. It's not until you hear the bedroom door close that you finally open your eyes.

You can tell it's still early by the light. But it's suddenly cold and lonely without Joaquin. And as funny as that was, the guilt starts to set in. So, you get out of bed and head to the door.

Carefully, you peek out into the living room and see Joaquin grabbing more of his things. He's got a slight pout on his face, his brow furrowed. It's adorable, but you know you can't let him leave like this.

You step out and cross the room to reach him. He notices you approaching but can't voice his surprise in time as you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss. He relaxes instantly, his hands finding their home around your waist as he kisses you back.

"I love you, too," you say when you pull away.

"Jesus," Joaquin replies. "You scared me. I thought you were mad at me or something."

You smile sweetly. "I'm sorry, I was just messing with you."

He huffs, pulling you into his arms. "I can't believe you. My own girlfriend hates me."

You hug him back, resting your head on his chest. "Oh, come on. It was kinda funny."

He hugs you tighter. "Whatever, smarty pants. Just don't do that again, alright?"

"Alright," you relent. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he replies.

Joaquin lets out a deep breath. He pulls back and cradles your head in his hands. A moment of silence passes as he admires you.

Then, he speaks up again. "You're a dummy, you know that?"

"I'm not a dummy," you feign offence.

"Yeah, you are," he states.

He doesn't give you a chance to respond before he picks you princess-style. You let out a small, surprised yelp, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"It's still early," he replies. "You should get more sleep."

You don't argue with that. You're more than happy to go back to bed. You let Joaquin carry you back into the bedroom. He tucks you in, and you watch with a smile as he gently lays the covers over you and leans in to kiss your forehead.

But as he's about to pull away, you grab his arm. "Stay with me?"

Joaquin laughs. "Oh, now you want me to stay."

You pout. "Please?"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll try to finish early, okay?"

You sigh, letting go of him. "Okay."

"Okay," he repeats. "I'll see you tonight, sleepy."

He smooths out the covers and gives you one last kiss before pulling away. Smiling fondly, he bids you farewell and leaves you to bask in the morning light.

[miwiheroes]

my favourite fics

making this while drunk after reading a reallyyyy good byler fic in bed at midnight just chilling like a blade of grass i love it

u can probably tell my taste in fics after seeing this lol

he likes it scalding by CastleByersAfterDark - domestic, slice of life fic where will has a bath after a cold miserable day and its written so well like i feel the love theres so much loveee

Say It With Your Hands by Pseudologia - the only time you'll ever catch me reading a different first meeting fic. just so cute, byler meet at a movie theater (working) and mike's obsessed with him

a bed in your shape by passerine_in_jade - omg the angst was angsting but it was so realistic as well i loved it, the payoff ended up being so good.

A Blue Christmas by kwritessometimes - the most carefully and beautifully written fic about mikes coming out to his family. it perfectly shows the connection between him and will's family too, and ughhhhhhh i cried

but if i'm all dressed up (worth it for once) by castlebyer (loverslakes) - regency era england fic. i rarely ever read byler fics in an alternate timeline but omg this was so good and just as i imagined it.

nothing else i could do by astrobi - mike and will live together and they get a dog and then they kiss or smth idk i havent read it in a while but its astrobi so its good

if you kissed me now by astrobi - cute lil secret relationship fic and byler are just so soft and are actually realistic teens in this ugh

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) by burgandyshirts - oh this is the funniest ever, there is a miscommunication where mike thinks he's dating will but will has no idea <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin by ruetistic - really sad about byler being gay in the 80s where mike gets hurt by people but its hurt/comfort so dw

feeling like the opposite by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) - such a good and memorable love confession on mike's part, also college byler teehee

i have everything i wanted by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) - series of one shots of byler that all follow an amazing format basically catered to my fave tags on ao3 HAHA

(give me a second to) forget i ever really meant it by delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy) - one of the better practice kissing fics i've read

autumn air, jacket 'round my shoulders is yours by gaysforbyler - will's feeling the anniversary effect and it just shows how much care mike has for will and how much understanding they have for each other

all this time (how could you not know?) by astrobi - for me, this is a long fic. yeah that tells you everything abt me lmao but this is so amazing it has a great pay off (byler at prom!!!!)

i might be hoping about this by astrobi - this right here will always be my favourite fic. it is perfection. it was one of the first byler fics i ever read and the pure domestic bliss paired with it being a SICKFIC HELL YEAH makes it just soooo perfect

and i might as welllllll um

what you really want by ME - yes this is big headed of me but im so proud of this fic i worked so hard on it and sacrificed some of my grades for it but it was worth it

okay im so eepy im going to eep and then have a hangover and i have a raging headache now ive done this on a whim bye

[midnite-c6]

Please please please please, Kim Seo-wan smutty smut... Ever since I read your Seo-wan x Reader I couldn't help but fall in love with that man more than I already was, so... PLS. if it doesn't maik ya uncomfortable obvs (⁠｡⁠•́⁠‿⁠•̀⁠｡"). ((TAKE UR TIME!))

YAYAYSYXTDGEGSYT I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO WANTED TO LET HIM INN BYE ugh i want him (respectfully) added squid game tags since most of you guys watched ddos cuz of roh jae won and i want other ppl to see his role here! <3

kim seo-wan nsfw headcanons <3 || warnings: 18+, cunnilingus, fingering, fluff

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° first of all, his daily routine consists of studying, gaming, and being schizophrenic making him not have time for all those romantic, especially physical affection kinda stuff, so you have to convince and show him! it wouldn't be difficult, he's still a guy after all, let alone a guy who plays those "gooner" type of games, and to put it simply: he's a virgin.

when he starts dating you, he'd add a new lesson to his routine: porn. he's already failing his other exams, he doesn't wanna fail you!

no bias guys, but he is a touchy dude, and a kissy one at that. your lips are his revival potion, the taste of your lips is healing his whole being, same goes for your other set of lips, when he found out you make cute cute sounds while he eats you out and make out with your cunny? oh he has defeated that dragon. damn. "y...you like it here, right?" he'd take a small kitten lick on your clit, making a soft moan elicit your lips. his hands on both sides of your waist, holding onto you tightly as if you'd run away from him. "mhm.. there's good.. s'good." he's happy for your praise, lapping his tongue up and down faster, you could feel him mumble a mantra of "you're s'..yummy.." against you, you were so tasty, he loved it so much. he wouldn't even take off his small circle-framed glasses, being pushed all the way to the bridge of his nose. "ah... seo-wan..♡" you could feel the metal frame hit your twitching clit, it was a different kind of feeling.

when you guys are finally comfy, you both know study dates are cute n' all. he'd have his headset on, listening to music, a hand to flip the textbook's pages, and his other arm to be hooked around your waist, holding you securely. you'd be doing whatever too, you liked his company anyway. but whenever studies get stressful and hectic, he won't lose the chance to grope your soft tits, they're the best stress relievers after all. he's definitely a boob guy. "ah.. y/n. move closer, please? .. need ..easier.. access.." i fear he is very touchy, clingy, he doesn't want to let you go.

cosplays!! oh, when you guys save enough money, he absolutely loves to do cosplays with you! he's very grateful your character has little to no clothes, he'd savour your body everytime it's spread on his bed and would treat you like a princess for real. tell him he's super duper strong, it will make him cum in seconds. :< probably accidentally rips off your expensive cosplay too, makes you mad, obviously, but will fuck you as a consolation prize.

he's more of a giver than a receiver, he just wants you to be happy and pleased all the time! ...also makes you overstimulated every session. his fav part on himself is his hands, he knows how fond you are to them, foreplay always takes long because his fingers are stretching your poor hole for hours <3.

again, he barely has the time to do full-on sessions, but when he does, he's gonna make you a squirting mess. holding hands while fucking is sooo real <3.

"mmfh.. don't leave me, okay? stay.." he 'reminds' you, slowly pushing his dick back inside your hole, his thumb pressed firmly on your clit, how were you gonna leave him anyway? he was holding onto you like you'd escape! "i.. won't seo-wannnn..." "ahh... good girl... my healer..." he whispers, kissing you softly, his mind is definitely in another world right now, atleast you're in it. (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

someone requested seo-wan x patient!reader so I AM GONNA FO THAT NEXT HELL YEAH

[joonberriess]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]