#so it’s as much as a gift to me as it is to you
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babyleostuff · 2 days ago
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⸻ first date with hip hop unit
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[ 🐚 ] where they would take their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would do to make them feel special
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scoups
place: the aquarium
what they would do to make you feel special: is such an attentive listener and the way he keeps staring at you makes you blush so much (even if you usually don't blush, it's just the cheol effect) + at the end if the date you wonder if he paid even slight attention to the fish and whatnot (you could feel his stare on you for the whole time)
what they would be like taking you out: a shy mess, keeps ruffling his hair to occupy his hands with something (cuz he has to stop himself from grabbing your hand), the biggest gentleman out there
“oh, look at this one!” you pointed excitedly at one of the fishes that just swam by right in front of you. “it’s so pretty,” you cooed. 
you took a few steps to follow the small fish, forgetting that you weren’t there alone for a moment, too mesmerised to focus on anything else. it was nice to feel like a little kid once again, not having to worry about anything other than pretty fish and the shimmering blue and pink lights that made the whole place look like straight from a fairytale. 
“would it be corny if i said that you’re prettier?” suddenly, a deep voice pulled you out of your little bubble. 
“are you comparing me to a fish?” you fake-gasped and turned around, meeting seungcheol’s brown eyes that held a mischievous look that you grew to love so much, even though you hadn’t known each other for that long. 
his gentle laugh rippled through the air. “well, if you put it that way…”
you snickered and swatted his chest playfully. “i don’t think you’re supposed to say stuff like that on a first date, choi seungcheol.”
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wonwoo
place: museum/ exhibition 
what they would do to make you feel special: takes candid photos of you (the morning after the date you get a message with the photos and a text saying “that’s how i see you” )
what they would be like taking you out: so so nervous, stutters, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, feels like he’s going to die at least five times
“click” 
you whipped your head around upon hearing the familiar sound, tearing your eyes from the painting after what felt like hours. but the exhibition wonwoo took you too was truly mesmerising, you had no idea how he found this place. 
“if you wanted to take a picture you could’ve told me,” you said, taking a step to the side. “i would’ve moved.” 
wonwoo lowered the camera, his hands slightly shaking, which in your eyes made him even more adorable than he already was. not to mention the fuzzy cardigan that made him look like the cuddliest teddy bear. 
“no, it’s… i wanted to take a photo of the painting and… and you,” he said with a gentle softness in his voice, blending in with the quiet hustle of people around you. 
“oh.”
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mingyu
place: the funfair/ amusement park
what they would do to make you feel special: you know those games where you have to hit the targets to win the plushies or other stuffed animals? if you kept missing, gyu would miss as well, so you wouldn't feel like you were worse (he'd win once, though, because he'd really want to gift you a teddy bear)
what they would be like taking you out: tries his best to act cocky and smug but ends up tripping over his own feet, because he keeps staring at you too much
“i was so near, like one centimeter and i would’ve hit- oh my god, mingyu!” you exclaimed, stopping in your tracks. 
the man next to you landed on the ground with a thump, face first and all, for the third time in the span of the last two hours. 
“are you okay?” you gently placed the teddy bear your date had just gifted you on the ground, trying to keep it away from the dirt, and kneeled next to him. 
“this is really embarrassing,” he mumbled, leaning his forehead against the pavement. “i swear i’m not usually like this.” 
you shook your head, not really believing his words, because yes - maybe you didn’t know each other that well, but you’ve spent enough time together for you to know that kim mingyu was quite a clumsy person. 
“why do you keep tripping all the time?” you laughed, helping him up and brushing the dirt away. 
“you seriously don’t want to know,” mingyu answered, his face red as a tomato.
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vernon
place: cinema + fast food place 
what they would do to make you feel special: buys you a small bouquet of your favourite flowers (you mentioned liking them once in passing)
what they would be like taking you out: not much changes in vernon's behaviour, completely chill and vibin' (mostly due to the fact that he's in such denial that you actually agreed to go out with him that he truly believes he's dreaming)
you stared at the small bouquet vernon was holding in his hands.
“uh, those aren’t your favorite right?” he asked when you didn’t say anything, and you didn’t fail to catch the note of disappointment in his voice. “i just probably messed up the names of the flowers. sorr-,” 
“how did you know these were my favourite?” 
“well,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “you said once and i remembered, and… yeah.” 
“i mentioned it like once,” you said, still too shaken that he remembered such a small thing to grab the flowers from his hand. “wait, aren’t you allergic to pollen? what are you doing holding a whole bouquet?” 
you took the bouquet and hid it behind your back. 
“it won’t kill me, you know?” vernon said with a smile on his face.
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girlygguk · 2 days ago
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EASY ⋆ CHAPTER ONE
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summary when you’re young and swept up in the whirlwind of idol life, where every little move is scrutinized and relationships are hidden behind layers of secrecy, the pressure of the world watching makes everything so much more complicated. it's a lot. of course it is. yet, to jeon jungkook... loving you is still the easiest thing in the world.
⋆ please read the prologue first ⋆
pairing bts idol jk x female idol reader
genre idolverse, bff2l, fluff, angst
word count 13.1k
content read prologue for full fic warnings, chapter set in 2016, simp jk, down bad jk, heavy pining, touchy no-boundary bffs, gukkie's bday, two award shows, nct jaehyun appearance, eomma jang appearance, a bit of cursing, misunderstandings, jealousy, oc is confused, cringe fic, final proofread done on sleepy brain
author's note hello my patient little lovelies 💟 this chapter originally hit 20k 😭 but since it's a series, i decided to split it up to keep u guys excited for what's to come instead of giving it all away in one go :P had to cut a couple insaneeely cringy scenes 😒 so i’m v sorry if a few of the transitions are a bit choppy.. 💔 pls lemme know what u think tho!! love you lots<3
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CHAPTER ONE: Nineteen
"Close your eyes." 
Jungkook flinched at the sound of your voice, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the couch cushion with a soft thud. 
His gaze had been focused on nothing, just scrolling aimlessly through Instagram while waiting for you to return. After the second movie of your marathon ended, you had suddenly disappeared into your room, leaving behind only a vague promise to 'be back in a sec!' 
Obviously, he had tried to follow, but you stopped him in his tracks and forced him to sit back down on the couch. Even made him promise not to move. 
So now, Jungkook barely registered your words, his mind too focused on the fact that you were finally back. Instinctively, he began to turn around. But before he could even glance in your direction, you gently placed a hand on his head, halting him in place. 
"Uh-uh," you laughed, your voice light, the sound brushing past his ear like a whisper. It tickled. "Close your eyes, ttoki." 
The closeness of your voice sent a tingle, or seven, down his spine. Without a second thought, his eyes fluttered shut. Whether it was from the command itself, or the undeniable effect you had on him, he wasn't sure. 
You stood on your toes, leaning in to make sure his eyes were firmly closed, your face hovering close enough that he could smell the popcorn on your breath. He shivered.
A satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you quietly moved around to the front of the couch and plopped down beside him, the cushion dipping under your weight. 
"Hold out your hands," you instructed softly, biting your lip to stifle your excitement. 
Without hesitation, Jungkook complied, turning his palms up in front of him. He expected something small—a snack, maybe, or one of the random trinkets you were always carrying around. But when you laid something soft and surprisingly heavy in his hands, his fingers instinctively closed around it, feeling the familiar texture of fabric. 
“It just arrived yesterday,” you explained. “And we’ve been together since, so I didn’t get the chance to wrap it properly…” 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion, even with his eyes still firmly shut. "But… you already gave me my gift?" he said, his head tilting slightly toward you. 
“Ttoki,” you chuckled, reaching over to brush your hand against his forehead, smoothing the crease that had formed. “I made you pancakes for breakfast. That’s not a real gift.” 
“They were amazing, though…” he mumbled, leaning into your touch, his face melting into that squishy pout that always melted your heart. 
“I’m glad you liked them,” you replied with a laugh, giving his cheek a light pinch before settling back against the couch. “Okay. Open your eyes.” 
Slowly, Jungkook blinked his eyes open, clearing the blur from his vision as he glanced down at the item in his hands. The air in his lungs froze. 
It was an Off-White skate tee. Thee Off-White skate tee. 
The same one that had been discontinued months ago. The one he’d casually mentioned to you, lamenting how he hadn’t bought it when he had the chance. He had even confessed to you once—when you’d slyly prodded him for more details about the shirt—that he’d hesitated back when it was available. At the time, he and his brothers were barely scraping by, and he’d been too cautious to spend what little money he had on something like that. Now, he could buy it a hundred times over, but it was too late. The brand no longer made that style.
Yet, here it was. In his hands. 
Jungkook stared at the shirt like he’d never seen a piece of clothing before. His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the fabric, running his fingers over the soft material. "How… how did you get this?" he asked, his voice barely audible, eyes still glued to the shirt. 
You smiled, pleased with his reaction. “I found it on HandMeDown,” you explained, referring to the app where people in Seoul sold their secondhand clothes. “And don’t worry, I already washed it. It’s ready to wear.” 
Jungkook instinctively brought the shirt to his nose, the familiar scent of your fabric conditioner filling his senses. He swallowed back a sigh. “So that’s why you didn’t want me doing your laundry yesterday…” he hummed in realization, now laying the shirt across his lap and staring at it in awe. 
“Well, that, and Jiyoung-unnie was offended that you only do mine and not hers,” you giggled. 
Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement as if to say, and what about it? 
He looked at you then, the gratitude and affection in his eyes overwhelming. “Jjogi…” he said, his voice thick. “Thank you. I love it so much.” 
Without another word, Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver, but you smiled, wrapping your arms around him in return. 
“That’s okay, ttoki. I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, your hands moving in gentle circles on his back, your nails lightly scratching the spots you knew he liked. “I’m just sorry this isn’t the big, fancy 19th birthday party that you deserve.” 
Jungkook pulled back slightly, his his dark eyes soft as they searched your face. "This is all I wanted," he said simply. "I asked for this…" 
You tilted your head, still holding his gaze as your fingers rest gently on his shoulders. "Yeah, I know you wanted Iron Man and time to just relax," you replied with a small smile. “But I still feel bad that everyone else couldn’t come because of those stupid reshoots… They should be back soon, though.” 
"Ah," Jungkook mumbled, his teeth catching his lower lip as he nibbled on it—a habit of his when he was lost in thought. 
Reshoots. Right. 
That was the excuse Namjoon had come up with, conveniently keeping the others away for the night. In reality, Jungkook had asked Namjoon to give him the day alone with you—just you. And Namjoon, being the good hyung he was, made it happen. 
Even though Jungkook knew you would’ve been perfectly fine with just you and him for his birthday, he also knew you. Knew that you would've felt guilty for not having the whole group there. Could practically hear your soft voice reminding him how excited the others were to celebrate his birthday, how they would've loved to watch Iron Man with him. 
But he didn’t want to watch Iron Man with them. He wanted to watch Iron Man with you. 
"That's okay," Jungkook said softly. "I’m more than happy with tonight. It’s—it’s everything I wanted." 
"Good." You let out a sigh of relief, your hands covering his as they rested on his lap. "Happy birthday, ttoki. You deserve everything you want. I love you so much, you know that?" 
"I do. And I love you more." His words came so easily, so naturally, like they were meant to exist only between the two of you. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment before he turned to gently set the shirt aside. "Thank you so much, jjogi. God, you're just—" 
Jungkook cut himself short with a huff, as if whatever he was about to say would’ve been too much. Instead, he leaned forward, and gently guided your arms around his neck. In one motion, he maneuvered you down onto the couch beneath him, your soft laughter filling his ears as you sank into the cushions. 
He settled comfortably on top of you, his head finding its place in the crook of your neck. "Let’s sleep," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin. 
“But we still have the third movie to get through,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction as your hands wandered down to gently poke his side. 
Jungkook grunted, burrowing deeper into you, making it abundantly clear he wasn’t planning on moving. “Nap first,” he grumbled. 
You laughed, poking him again. “And you don’t want any of your birthday cake?” 
Jungkook shook his head lazily, a quiet no escaping his lips as he tightened his arms around you. 
You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. “Well, we should at least move to a bed. We’ll regret sleeping here in the morning.” 
Jungkook shook his head again, his voice barely a whisper now. “Just a nap…” 
After a pause, he tilted his head back slightly, his dark eyes peeking up at you as he added, almost innocently, “By the way, how much was it?” 
You froze for a second, pretending not to hear the question as your fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through his hair. “Hm? How much was what?” 
He let out a soft hum, clearly enjoying your touch, before murmuring sleepily, “The shirt.” 
You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of a response. “Mmm, I don’t remember,” you finally whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek in hopes of distracting him. “Let’s sleep,” you added, guiding his head back down against your chest as you leaned into the throw pillow behind you. 
What were you supposed to say? 
That you’d saved every bit of your allowance for three months just to afford it? That you’d scoured every corner of the internet before stumbling upon it on some random resale app, only to have MarkLee99 refuse to let you haggle the price down, no matter how hard you tried? 
It wasn’t that you were embarrassed about your finances in front of Jungkook. God, no. You both had been through way too much together for that. Spent too many nights, broke and broken, licking the seasoning off the snack bags your mom sent from Daegu during trainee days when meals were sparse. 
It wasn’t shame— it was that you just didn’t want him to worry. He did that a lot when it came to you. 
Jungkook hummed softly, his muscles growing heavier. He knew. He knew that shirt cost you a lot, more than you’d ever admit. You spent your money on him—just him. And god, you were so fucking perfect for that. 
Of course he wasn’t going to let it go. He'd pester you tomorrow—or maybe the day after, as a thank you for such an amazing night. But for now? He wasn’t moving. Not from this spot. Not from you. 
Jungkook’s eyes finally fluttered shut, his body sinking deeper into yours as sleep began to pull him under. He made sure to keep most of his weight pressed into the couch, though his body stayed comfortably intertwined with yours. 
And then he waited. 
Patiently listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet rise and fall of your chest beneath him, until it finally evened out—reassuring him that you were fast asleep. 
Only then did he allow himself to slip into unconsciousness, his mind full of you, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
Best birthday ever.
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Mnet Asian Music Awards 
“And now, the nominees for Song of the Year…” 
Jungkook’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Not out of boredom or disinterest—no, nothing like that. But because this way, he could catch glimpses of you in his peripheral vision without needing to strain his eyes around Jimin’s frame or tilt his head in an obvious way. Just the edge of your figure, the way your jewelery shimmered in the lights, the way your hands fidgeted in your lap. He wanted to see your reaction properly, but he had to be careful.
“BTS - Blood Sweat and Tears,” “Exo - Monster,” “GFriend - Rough,” “LUMI - Supernatural,” “Twice - Cheer Up.” 
GFriend’s performance had been incredible, and he knew you would've been quietly geeking out over it. You loved the group, especially their song “Rough,” your favorite at the moment. He could practically hear you humming the chorus in his head, like you’d done all month.
It made him smile, remembering how you made him sing it with you that one time. Late night in the practice room, giggling uncontrollably when he forced himself to sing off-key.
Jungkook wished he could’ve seen your face light up when they sang it, but he’s already in hot water for not keeping his expressions in check when you both attend award shows. His managers, his hyungs, and even your leader, Nari, had all warned him.
Nari-noona was kindhearted, much like his own leader. But she was fiercely protective of her members, just as Namjoon-hyung was of his. 
A few weeks ago, at an event where both your groups attended, a clip had gone viral of Jungkook staring at you for a little too long to be considered just a glance. 
It wasn't just a glance, of course—he had been completely distracted by how good you looked in that gown that night, stealing far more looks than the internet even caught wind of. But the world didn’t need to know that. 
Still, the six-second clip had been enough to send netizens into a fucking frenzy. 
He wasn’t surprised when the criticism came for him; that always happened. But when you took the brunt of the backlash... yeah, that fucking gutted him. 
Nari knew you wouldn’t say anything to Jungkook about it—and you didn't—because you didn’t blame him. You never blamed him for the gossip or the way the internet twisted things. It was just a look. 
But the industry you were both in could be as toxic as it was rewarding, and Nari had gently reminded him, in that older sister way, that when you’re constantly in the limelight like he was now, things are different. Even when he thought nobody was paying attention, it only took one person to notice. 
She had also pointed out that, as endearing as it was, Jungkook was utterly hopeless at hiding his feelings. Everything was always written right across his face, whether he meant it to be or not. 
Though BTS was technically the senior group to LUMI, Nari had been in the industry nearly as long as Namjoon, and both were wise beyond their years. Jungkook would never disregard advice from either of them. 
He had promised Nari that he understood, that he was sorry, that he would do better to protect you. 
Nari had just smiled. She already knew he would. 
"And the 2016 Mnet Asian Music Award winner for Song of the Year… LUMI, Supernatural! Congratulations!" 
And just like that, all prior thoughts of keeping his cool completely and utterly evaporated. 
Before he could stop himself, Jungkook shot to his feet, his fists punching the air as if he just won the fucking daesang. “YES. Wooooooo!!!" 
The stadium exploded in applause, but Jungkook barely registered the noise. His heart pounded in his chest, the euphoria of your win surging through him like nothing he'd ever felt before.
Especially when the first thing you did after Cha Seungwon announced your group’s win was look at him. Not just in his direction, but directly at him. 
Your eyes were wide with disbelief, face glowing with pure joy. Jungkook’s breath hitched at the sight. God, you were so beautiful when you were happy. 
“Thank fuck,” he muttered under his breath, clapping so hard his palms stung. 
No one deserved this award more than your group. "Supernatural" was massive. It dominated the charts in Korea and made waves internationally too. It was everywhere for months—it still was. 
He remembered when it first dropped. You were out of town for promo, and when the song played over the speakers at a little local cafe where he was picking up drinks for his members, he couldn’t resist Facetiming you. 
You’d been over the moon, screaming into the phone, and made him stay on the line with you until the song ended. He found an empty booth in the back, pulled up his hoodie, and and sat there on the phone with you until all the coffees he’d ordered had gone cold. 
Now, as the cameras flashed and chaos ensued around him, Jungkook's focus was locked on you—watching as your members pulled you into a group hug, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. When you broke away to head for the stage and he remembered you’d have to pass by him… he stood a little straighter. 
His hyungs were cheering too—maybe not as embarrassingly as he was—but they knew, just like he did, what this moment meant. You had all trained together, struggled together, grew up in the industry together. Getting this sort of recognition after so much hard work was a feeling that they understood all too well. 
As your group bowed to the senior idols seated to his left, you approached the stage steps directly in front of him. Nari was leading the way, but Jungkook noticed the subtle nudge you gave her. It was so slight, anyone else would’ve missed it. But not him. 
Nari glanced back at you, confusion flickering across her face for a split second before realization dawned. A knowing smile tugged at her lips as she shifted gracefully, taking a few steps to the side, drawing the camera’s attention with her. 
Then the crowd exploded. The loudest cheers of the night echoed around the arena as Nari led the four of you in a deep bow toward BTS. 
Jungkook’s grin widened, his heart pounding all over again as you lifted your head, the most adorable fucking smile lighting up your face. He and his members grinned, returning the bow instantly. Taehyung and Jimin added their own touch, wiggling their fingers at your group in a goofy, showing-off way, snickering as the cameras ate it all up.
As Jungkook’s hands stilled, he clasped them together in front of him, fighting off every urge in his body to pull you into his arms and congratulate you properly. He wanted to—god, he wanted to—but he couldn’t. Not now, with every lens in the room trained on you both. Instead, he stayed rooted, lips parting as if to say something, but closing quickly. 
You didn’t need words. You never did. 
With a little tilt of your head, a soft crinkle of your eyes, you said it all. You knew exactly what he was feeling, and the sweet smile you shot him left his pulse racing. He felt his throat tighten as he swallowed a little too hard, catching the way you bit your lip as you fought off a grin before taking Eunji’s extended hand and heading up onto the platform. 
The cameramen scrambled to adjust their angles as your group walked toward center stage. It had been less than two minutes since your name was announced, but for Jungkook, it felt like twenty. 
It was ridiculous, really. That stupid, adorable fucking smile of yours, always making him lose his train of thought. And now, apparently, his sense of time too.
With a huff, he dropped back into his seat next to Jimin, already bracing himself for the grilling he'd get once the show aired. 
Oh well, what were they going to do? Fire him? 
"Wah," Nari's breathless voice echoed through the speakers. The crowd roared in response, bringing a wide grin to her face. Jungkook smiled, watching as you and your members marvelled at the trophy in your leader's hands before turning back to the audience. 
"I don’t know what to say, and I always know what to say..." Nari laughed, sending another wave of cheers through the stadium. "I know this might sound like false humility, but we really didn’t think we would win… I mean..." 
The crowd erupted in laughter as Nari gestured playfully toward the right, where your sunbae group, Exo, sat. The cameras zoomed in on the group’s modest smiles and head shakes and Jungkook shared a knowing glance with his own members. 
You and the rest of LUMI giggled softly, nudging Nari as she bowed sheepishly toward the senior group before regaining her composure. 
“Okay, okay… ah, here we go,” Nari chuckled, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself in front of the microphone. "Thank you, Bang PD-nim and BigHit Entertainment for these unbelievable opportunities… Thank you to our amazing friends and families for always loving and supporting us... And thank you to our incredible seniors for showing us what it means to never give up." 
The crowd’s response was deafening. Like, ear-piercingly loud. Jungkook soon realized the cause of the explosion when he glanced up at the large LCD screens overhead and saw Taehyung and Jimin displayed in all their glory, posing dramatically for the shot.
Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckling along with Hobi, yet extremely grateful that the camera didn’t pan to him. He was self-aware enough to know that his eyes were probably shaped like fucking hearts right now.
"And most importantly… thank you so much, Nova," Nari continued, fingers tracing the edges of the trophy. The applause swelled again, somehow even louder than before. "This means more to us than we could ever put into words. We work hard, but Nova, you worked even harder to get us here. This is as much yours as it is ours. Thank you. We love you." 
As Nari stepped back with a bow, Jungkook swore he saw her eyes glistening, and his smile softened. He’d never seen Nari-noona cry before. 
She waved a calm hand out to you and your members members, signaling for one of you to speak next. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, clapping along with the rest of the room, and beside him, Namjoon let out a low, impressed sigh. “Incredible,” he murmured. 
Jungkook and Jimin exchanged looks, snickering but nodding in agreement. Jungkook’s gaze found its way back to you and your members, watching as you all looked at each other, shaking your heads and silently insisting, no, you go. 
He almost chuckled aloud, surprised that Jiyoung wasn’t clamoring for the microphone—he couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t chatting his ear off. 
Nari rolled her eyes playfully before gently nudging you toward the microphone.
Jungkook knew there was a camera pointed at him, and he hoped it didn’t catch the way he jerked slightly in his seat, maybe a little too eager for you to hear you speak. 
“Ah,” you chuckled nervously as the stadium exploded into cheers the moment you took the mic. A blush crept up your cheeks, and Jungkook instinctively leaned forward, lifting a hand to hide the smile tugging at his lips. 
“I don’t- uh…” you began, your voice soft as you glanced at your members, who nodded at you encouragingly. "Sorry," you murmed into the microphone with a light laugh, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts. "Mmm, well, when we were writing this song, we were so excited to see what people would think, and, well… it seems you liked it?” 
Jungkook bit back a groan. So fucking cute. 
He already knew you weren't a fan of public speaking, just as he wasn't. But still, to see the most secure girl he knew, the most powerful performer he’d ever seen, turn all blushy and shy when she had to give a speech? Fucking hell. 
“Nari-unnie already said it all, but really, we’re so happy and sooo thankful. We will continue to work hard, always… Ahh, we love you, Nova. Thank you so much. Thank you.” 
Your words drew another round of applause as you stumbled back from the mic, your members giggling softly as they patted you all over in encouragement. Jungkook nodded giddily, his grin widening when you glanced in his direction, flashing him one last pretty smile before bowing to the crowd with your sisters.
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As soon as your group stepped backstage, the lights, cheers, and noise seemed to fade, replaced by the hum of the crew and the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air. The adrenaline pulsing through your veins was slowly ebbing away, leaving you standing in the midst of it all, clutching the trophy in your hands. 
You’d been the only one of your members who hadn’t cried during the acceptance speech. But now, as you stared down at the shiny trophy, the weight of the moment crashed over you in a heavy wave. The reality of it all—the sleepless nights, the endless rehearsals, the doubts and fears you all shared. It hit you square in the chest. 
You just won a fucking daesang. 
Before you could stop yourself, your shoulders shook and a choky sob escaped from deep in your chest. 
Nari was the first to rush to your side, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame, her own eyes red and watery. “Oh, honey…” she whispered, pulling you close. Within seconds, Eunji and Jiyoung were there too, the three of them surrounding you in a tight, protective circle, holding you tightly as your tears fell unchecked.
Jiyoung buried her face in your shoulder, crying softly. Eunji wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, biting her lip to keep her tears in check, but it was no use. Nari held you even tighter, her lips pressed to your hair as she rocked you gently. 
"Thank you so much, Nari-unnie," you managed to whisper through your sobs. Nari shook her head, a teary smile on her face as she gently brushed some stray hair away from your eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you. Any of you,” you sniffled, glancing between your unnies.
Your members cooed softly, pulling you closer as you giggled through the tears. When they finally pulled back, your face was still damp, but there was a faint smile tugging at your lips.  “I can’t believe we did it..” you croaked, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes flickered down to the award in your hands.
“It still feels unreal,” Eunji agreed with a laugh, her own tears mingling with her smile. “Like, I’m waiting to wake up… I’ve had this dream so many times.” 
Jiyoung snickered, wiping her eyes. “Right? If I turn around and see Lee Junho walking toward me shirtless…” 
The room erupted into giggles, the tension breaking as your members shoved Jiyoung for her comment. You handed the trophy over to your manager for safekeeping, still laughing as you wiped at your cheeks.
With a gentle nudge from the staff, you were ushered off to tidy up your makeup. It gave you time to calm down, maybe catch your breath, but the excitement still bubbled under your skin. Especially with SHINee’s performance coming up in just a few more categories!!! 
When you stepped back from the mirror you thanked your makeup artist, Julie, with a hug and waited for Nari and Eunji to finish up. But as you waited, there came a gentle nudge to your side, and you glanced over to find Jiyoung stifling a giggle. 
“Look over there,” she whispered, nodding toward the back of the room. 
Your curious eyes followed her gaze, scanning the backstage area until you spotted him—a tall, undeniably handsome guy standing a little away from his group. He seemed calm, focused on a conversation with his manager, but the moment your eyes locked, his expression faltered. His face flushed pink before he immediately looked away all… embarrassed?
You frowned, turning back to Jiyoung. “Stop it,” you whispered, giving her a little swat on the arm. 
But you couldn’t help yourself. As your group began moving toward the exit, you stole another glance over your shoulder, and there he was again. This time, his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you, eyes wide and frozen. Not in a creepy way, though. More like a deer caught in headlights. 
You hesitated slightly, your group moving ahead without noticing that you had stopped. With a small smile, you turned back toward him and offered a little bow. His reaction was immediate—his eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and he returned the bow so fast you almost worried he’d pull a muscle. 
Nari soon noticed you lingering behind and a little frown pulled at her brow, but before she could make a move to fetch you, Jiyoung grabbed her arm. “Leave her,” she whispered with a smirk, tugging Nari back toward the exit. 
Meanwhile, you made your way over to the guy. He was definitely an idol, though his name escaped you at the moment. “Are you okay?” you asked gently. “Do you need something?” 
His face flushed as he stammered, "I-I’m sorry, no. I just— uh, I love your music. Your group is incredible. I’ve been listening to 'Supernatural' nonstop! Seriously! I was wondering if… if you’re performing tonight?” 
“Oh, wow, thank you so much.” Your smile brightened at his sincerity, still not used to receiving compliments like that. “Yeah, we’ll be performing at around nine.” 
His shoulders relaxed, and a shy smile crept across his face. “That’s great. I’ll definitely be watching… I’m Jeong Jaehyun, from NCT? We just, um, just debuted recently.” 
"Ahh, that’s why you look so familiar!" you exclaimed, recognition lighting up your face. “I saw your debut stage! It was amazing!” 
Jaehyun’s ears turned a deep shade of red as he ducked his head. “Ah, thank you so much, wow, that... that means a lot.” 
The conversation grew easier after that, his nervousness slowly melting away. His humor naturally peeked through, and you even found out he was a fellow ’97-liner. He was genuine and sweet. Jeonggukkie would love him, you thought. 
As Jaehyun fidgeted, his hand subtly patting his pocket as though reaching for something, the sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention. 
When you glanced over your shoulder, you smiled as you spotted Jungkook and Taehyung making their way to you guys. Jaehyun’s reaction was almost comical with the way his eyes widened again as he immediately bowed deeply, all stiff and formal. You bit back a laugh as you remembered what it was like to meet your idols for the first time. At least he didn't cry.
Jungkook and Taehyung greeted Jaehyun , their kind demeanour helping him ease up, though he still stumbled over his words every now and then. Especially when Jaehyun managed to make Taehyung laugh. The look of pure joy on his face was so adorable. 
After a few minutes of chatting, you glanced toward the stage. “We should get back out there…” you said, nodding toward the performance area. “The next category is coming up soon.” 
Jungkook nodded, stepping a little closer to you while Taehyung followed suit. “Yeah, we’ll catch up later,” Jungkook added with a friendly nod toward Jaehyun. 
Jaehyun bowed like his life depended on it and smiled handsomely. “Cool! Yeah, absolutely! Have a good performance! Good luck!” 
With a wave and a smile, you fell into step beside Jungkook and Taehyung, the three of you heading back toward the guest section. As you walked, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching Jaehyun’s lingering gaze. You couldn’t help but laugh softly before turning away.
“You know,” Taehyung started, his voice teasing, “you could’ve just said SHINee is coming up. You didn’t have to say ‘the next category.’” 
You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Shut up,” you mumbled with a little shove. He wasn't wrong.
Meanwhile, Mark, who had been watching the entire exchange from a distance, sidled up to Jaehyun with a teasing smirk. “So, how’d it go?” he asked, nudging his bandmate’s shoulder. “Did you tell her how you’ve been in love with her since you were just a shy little trainee—” 
“Shut up,” Jaehyun muttered, his face burning as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, grumbling. “She had to go.” 
Mark laughed, watching as Jaehyun’s gaze drifted back toward you for one last fleeting glance before he sighed in quiet defeat.
As you, Jungkook, and Taehyung continued toward the guest section, Taehyung suddenly slowed. “Hold up,” he muttered, glancing between you and Jungkook. “Needa go to the bathroom real quick.” 
You smiled, nodding toward the nearby restroom. “Okay. We’ll wait here.” 
With a quick nod, Taehyung slipped through the door, leaving you and Jungkook standing alone in the quiet hallway. You leaned back against the wall, the hum of applause from the show pounding through the walls. 
Jungkook shifted beside you before leaning in. “So proud of you, jjogi.” 
You looked up at him, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Thank you, ttoki,” you replied sweetly, instinctively glancing around the empty hall. “I’m so proud of you too, Mr. Album of the Year.”
His big eyes met yours, a cute grin tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Mrs. Song of the Year,” he shot back, his bunny teeth peeking out as he tilted his head. 
Your cheeks heated up, your smile widening as you smoothed over your dress, hands twitching with the desire to pull him into a hug. But you knew better.
With one more quick glance at your surroundings, you leaned in, lifting a hand to the side of your mouth as if whispering a secret. “Love you.” 
Jungkook’s eyes crinkled into a smile, his hands mimicking yours as he leaned closer. “I love you more…”
Before you could reply, the bathroom door swung open and Taehyung strolled out, slipping between you and Jungkook with a content grin. “Alright, let’s go.” 
As the three of you walked together, a question popped into your mind. “Hey, why were you guys backstage?” you asked, glancing curiously between the two. 
Taehyung shrugged, hands tucked in his pockets. “Jeonggukkie needed something.” 
Your brow raised as you leaned forward, looking past Taehyung at Jungkook. “Oh? Did you get what you needed?” 
He hummed, his gaze shifting toward you with a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he replied simply. 
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MBC Gayo Daejejeon 
The current artists, Lovelyz, were wrapping up their performance, final notes fading as the audience erupted into applause. 
The sound echoed all the way down the hall where you and your members stood in a tight semi-circle. There was a buzz in the air, a thick mix of nerves and excitement. A water bottle made its rounds between the four of you, each taking quick sips. 
You were up next. 
Adjusting the mic taped to your cheek, you exhaled slowly, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was the kind of thrill that made you feel like you could do anything. You glanced at Jiyoung, who was bouncing on her feet, twisting her hands together. 
A teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Unnie—" 
Before you could finish, the stage director rushed over, his arms gesturing in wide urgent motions. "Let’s go, girls! You’re next!" 
As the four of you reached the stage doors, waiting as they slowly slid open, something clicked inside you. That version of yourself that existed onstage snapped into place like armour, any nerves you might have had completely melting away.
It was almost strange, really, how easily you slipped into this other self. Offstage, you were confident, sure. But onstage, you were something else. The rush was intoxicating, like a drug you craved more than anything. 
Your mom had always said you liked attention. 
The stadium lights dimmed, casting long, dramatic shadows along the floor as you and your sisters strode toward centre stage. For a second, everything slowed, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. 
Then, No More Dream exploded through the speakers, and the crowd roared even louder, the sheer strength of their cries vibrating the ground beneath your feet. You dropped to one knee, taking your position at the front of Nari, with Eunji and Jiyoung flanking her sides. 
Just as you were about to launch into the performance, something tugged at the edges of your awareness. A strange sensation, a tightness in your chest. Your brow furrowed ever so slightly.
Huh… You’d never gotten stage fright before.
Not during your first audition, when the judges’ eyes felt like they were burning holes straight through your soul. Not during the grueling trainee days, when one by one, the girls you’d grown close to disappeared, cut from the potential lineup. Not even when your group had teetered on the brink of disbandment, when everything you’d worked for since you were too young to fully understand the true scope of things, dangled by a thread.
The stage had always been your safe space. Nerves were never the enemy. They were fuel, pushing you to be better.
So why now, of all times, did you feel a prickle of sweat forming at the base of your hairline…
In the second row, you caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook, elbowing Taehyung in the ribs, his face scrunched in annoyance. He was trying to get Taehyung to stop leaning over him to chat with Jin. His lips moved quickly, whining in that way he always did when he was being ignored. 
“It’s starting,” Jungkook whined, placing a hand on Taehyung’s chest, trying to push him back into his seat. 
They were being so loud. If Jungkook missed even a single second of your performance because of his hyungs, he was going to fucking lose it. 
Taehyung finally grumbled something and settled into his seat. Jungkook’s eyes quickly snapped back to the stage, his eyes locking onto yours instantly. 
The second your gaze met, a smile tugged at your lips, easing the weird tension you’d felt moments before until it melted away, just like that. You didn’t even think about it—you were just grateful. 
“I wanna…”
When you’d first been asked to choose a song to cover for Gayo Daejejeon, your producer had mentioned offhandedly that BTS had picked one of your group’s songs for their performance. 
You’d been curious at first, but it wasn’t until later, during a game of Uno, that Jimin had let it slip. 
“It was Jeonggukkie’s idea,” he’d said, grinning at you while tossing down a +4 card with wicked delight. 
The memory bubbled up now as you transitioned into the next part of the choreo, your mind flicking back to the way Jungkook had pouted when you’d teased him about his suggestion during movie night in his room. 
“If you keep teasing me, I’ll ask them to change it,” he grumbled, pouting in that way only he could. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you relented, giggling. “We could... cover one of your songs too?” 
His pout vanished instantly, replaced by an excited grin that lit up his entire face. “Deal!” he said, practically bouncing on the bed. Then, he quickly added, "but you have to do my lines, though." 
You groaned dramatically, playfully pushing out your bottom lip in protest. “But I wanted to do Namjoonie-oppa’s part…” 
The memory of him yanking the blanket over his head like a sulking bunny still made you smile. He’d curled up into a ball on his bed, refusing to come out until you’d given in and cuddled him for the rest of the movie.
Dramatic didn’t even begin to cover it. 
And now, here you were, on stage, trying to bite back that same laugh as you rose from behind Nari as she finished RM's line. You brought the mic to your lips, your free hand running through your hair in the way Jungkook had taught you. 
"Arasseo… eomma jigeum dokseosil gandanikka?" 
"Yahhh!" Jungkook’s giddy cheer was muffled by his hand covering his mouth. 
He was trying, and failing, not to react too enthusiastically. His grin was wide behind his fingers, eyes glued to you as you moved across the stage. 
"She’s literally a female Jeonggukkie," Taehyung laughed, nudging the youngest with his elbow. 
The rest of BTS nodded in agreement, expressions a mixture of amusement and admiration as they watched you copy Jungkook’s mannerisms with scary accuracy. 
Jungkook’s mouth twitched, trying to hold back a bigger smile at Tae’s comment, but his eyes never left you. He watched intently as you slinked back to the center after Eunji’s verse. 
"Ah, she’s doing Kookie’s rap?" Jin leaned in, eyebrows raised in intrigue. 
"Mhm," Jimin confirmed with a nod, his fingers drumming against his knees. "She can rap well." 
Jungkook let out a soft, dreamy sigh, leaning back in his seat. “She can do everything well,” he mumbled, not even trying to hide the affection in his voice. 
His hyungs groaned in unison, the sound almost drowning out the cheers from the crowd. Rolling their eyes at the lovesick tone in his voice, they shook their heads and shoved playfully at the maknae. 
Jungkook just giggled with an unashamed shrug.
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Jiyoung was the first to break the post-performance haze as you slipped through the backstage curtain. "God, that choreo is so fucked," she groaned, running a hand through her sweat drenched hair.
"I know," you laughed, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face as you glanced down at her legs. "How are your knees?"
Jiyoung gave your hair a ruffle as you worriedly rubbed her kneecaps through the fabric of her jeans. "They’re fine, honey. Like I was going to ruin my fit with a pair of ugly kneepads."
You snickered, rolling your eyes. "Priorities..." you teased, giving her legs one last pat before straightening up. "You guys thirsty? I can grab drinks."
But before you could move, you noticed your members exchanging sly, knowing glances.
"That’s okay, we’ll get our own drinks," Jiyoung said with a little smirk. Eunji giggled, elbowing her lightly as they began to walk away.
"Huh—" You didn’t quite get a chance to question them.
Nari flashed you a soft smile as she linked arms with the other two. "We’ll be at the monitors," she called over her shoulder, leaving you standing there—confused and suddenly alone.
That confusion quickly melted away when you turned around, finding yourself face to face with your favorite pair of big, boba eyes.
“Oh, hi, ttoki,” you smiled.
"Hi," he echoed, flashing you a pretty grin as he held out a cold bottle of water toward you.
Before you could take the bottle from his grasp, Jungkook’s hand gently caught your outstretched one, pulling you in with one quick motion. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you stumbled into him, his arms wrapping around your waist like they belonged there and only there.
Jungkook sighed softly, his body relaxing as he pulled you closer, your arms naturally finding their way around his neck. The moment was so familiar, so easy, that you didn't even look around you to see if anybody could see you.
“You did so well,” he mumbled into your skin, his breath warm against your neck.
“Thank you,” you smiled, the tickle of his breath making your shoulder lift involuntarily.
You tried to balance the cold bottle now in your hand, careful not to press it against him. Jungkook noticed, his nose crinkling as he gave your sides one last gentle squeeze before relunctantly pulling away.
As he stepped back, he blinked a few times, trying to refocus. His gaze had wandered, caught on the curve of your smile, the way it always made his heart do that thing.
His eyes trailed over you, watching as you unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, your body naturally leaning toward him.
But then, you paused, frowning down at the bottle in your hand, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer.
“My water...” you pouted, turning the bottle over in your hands.
"Huh? What about it?” Jungkook’s hands shot out to inspect the bottle. He had just taken a sip earlier, and it was fine?
“There’s some missing…” you said, your pout deepening.
His face fell instantly. "Oh… yeah, I had a drink. Sorry. I’ll go get you a fresh one—"
But before he could finish, your soft giggle cut through his panic, and you unscrewed the cap, taking a big gulp. You shrugged playfully. "I’m kidding, ttoki. Unless… you have cooties?"
Jungkook forced out a laugh, but it came out dry. Unlike the droplet of water that slipped past your lips and trailed slowly down the curve of your fucking neck. His gaze followed it unbiddenly as it disappeared beneath the neckline of your cropped t-shirt.
“Jeonggukkie?”
His head jerked up. "Hm?"
“I asked when you guys are going up?” you repeated gently, tilting your head in that adorable, curious way you did—like a puppy waiting for a response.
Jungkook blinked, pulling his thoughts together. “Two more acts, jjogi,” he said softly.
You nodded, satisfied, flashing him that pretty smile—the one where your eyes crinkle just slightly, your nose scrunches up, and he can see your dimple peeking through.
So pretty, he groaned inwardly. He could write a fucking song about it.
Without a word, you quickly scoped your surroundings before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. Jungkook’s fingers reacted faster than his brain, linking with yours like second nature. You tugged him forward, weaving through the bare backstage area.
For a moment, Jungkook wondered where you were taking him. To the monitors where he saw your unnies heading? To the guest section, so you could experience SHINee’s performance from the best possible view?
His mind wandered briefly, curiously.
But then again, it didn’t really matter, did it? His inner voice snarked.
He’d follow you anywhere.
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“What’d ya think?” Jungkook’s voice caught you off guard, his grin wide as you yelped in surprise.
Your phone almost slipped from your hand as you spun around with wide eyes. "It was so good, ttoki," you replied, trying to catch your breath. You gave him a smile, the initial shock fading. “As always.”
Jungkook’s grin widened, very pleased by your words. As he stepped closer with his arms outstretched and ready to pull you into a hug, you took a small step back. He frowned.
“You okay, jjogi?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, holding your phone tightly in front of you. Your eyes flickered around the room, and Jungkook followed your gaze, his brows pulling together.
"What?" he asked, voice low with uncertainty.
“There's a couple people,” you murmured quietly, like it should’ve been obvious.
Jungkook blinked, his frown deepening. "They're just staff…"
Your phone buzzed, and instantly, your thumb slid to the mute button to silence it. Jungkook noticed but didn’t say anything. He just waited, watching as you slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.
“Ttoki, we can’t, you know…” you trailed off, your head tilting to one side like you were waiting for him to understand.
But he didn’t.
“We can’t… what?” he asked, the confusion in his voice almost making you laugh.
With a soft shake of your head, you reached for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his as you started to lead him through the crowd of people backstage. He followed without hesitation, his fingers curling around yours as he kept quiet.
When you reached the double doors separating backstage from the dressing room hallway, you pushed them open, sliding through with Jungkook right behind you. His hand found yours again, fingers slipping easily into place as you walked.
“Can’t what, jjogi?” he asked again, his steps slowing as he tugged lightly at your hand.
In the distance, Jin’s windshield wiper laugh grew louder as you approached his dressing room. Jungkook’s footsteps dragged. He didn't want to get there just yet.
“Hug in public,” youclarified simply, swinging your linked hands between you.
Jungkook’s brows furrowed. "Was barely anyone back there.. And it’s just a quick hug," he said, looking down at your entwined fingers. "We hold hands in public."
“Yeah, but holding hands can be interpreted as friendly, I guess,” you shrugged, your pace slowing as Jungkook’s did, both of you nearly crawling down the hall now.
“A hug really can’t be interpreted as friendly?” he asked quietly.
“A hug can,” you nodded, glancing up at him with a cute smile. “But your hugs? Not so much.”
At that, he pouted. Like, full-on Jeon Jeongguk power-pouted.
You giggled, the sound quiet in the empty hallway, before resting your head against his arm. “Ttoki, it’s not a bad thing. I love your hugs,” you reassured him, your hand gently rubbing his bare arm. “But I don't know those staff members enough to trust them… and if we got dragged into heat over you just looking at me, I can’t imagine what a picture of us hugging would do.”
Jungkook sighed, his head dipping. “You mean you got dragged into heat, not me,” he grumbled.
You lifted your head to meet his eyes, your brows knitting together. “Stop that. You got backlash too—”
“Not like you did,” he cut in. “And it was my fault.”
You let out a soft sigh, rubbing his arm again, trying to soothe the weight he carried. “Ttoki, I don’t care what people say about us. They don’t know us. I just don’t want stupid rumors to hurt our groups, that's all.”
Jungkook’s thumb brushed across the back of your hand. “I know, jjogi,” he murmured, guilt lacing his words. “I’m so sorry.”
You pressed a quick kiss to his arm, hoping to end the topic once and for all. “You’ve apologized a hundred times, and I’ve growled you a hundred times, ttoki. It's okay. Okay?”
Jungkook’s eyes softened as you stopped in front of the bathroom door. He tilted his head, watching you curiously as you pulled away.
“I need to pee,” you explained with a grin. “I’ll meet you in the dressing room, ‘kay?”
He shook his head slightly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "I’ll wait here."
You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Jeonggukkie, it’s fine,” you said with a quiet laugh. “The girls are in there too. Probably figuring out what we’re doing for dinner.”
“I know,” he replied easily. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, his stance shifting to a more comfortable position against the wall. “I’ll wait. What if you get kidnapped or something?”
“Aish,” you snorted, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. “Okay, but if someone sees you hanging around outside the girls’ bathroom like a creep…”
“Yahh,” he chuckled, jerking his head toward the door. “Just go. Hurry up.”
Your laughter lingered in his ears as you disappeared into the restroom.
A few minutes later, as you pressed the foot pedal of the trash can to toss the paper towel, you heard the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice outside the bathroom.
“Sorry, ttoki, I couldn’t hear you properly. What did you sa—” you called out as you tried to open the door, but it stopped halfway, hitting something on the other side.
“Oops, sorry!” a soft, feminine voice giggled from the other side, stepping back to let you through.
“Shit, are you okay?” you asked, quickly slipping through the gap, hands hovering near her arms in concern.
“I’m fine!” she squeaked, bowing quickly in apology.
You let out a relieved sigh and mirrored her gesture. "Are you sur—"
"Of course! I was the one in your way—" she began, her words trailing off as her eyes lit up in sudden recognition. “Wah, Jang Y/N-seonbaenim? I’m such a huge fan! I’m Lee Mijoo.”
"Wow, thank you so much,” you smiled, cupping her outstretched hand between both of yours. “Lee Mijoo… Oh woah, you’re in Lovelyz! My members and I were just listening to your performance. It was amazing.”
Her wide eyes sparkled, her voice a little breathless as she replied, “R-really? Thank you so much! Ah, they're going to freak out when I tell them about this..."
Your cheeks flushed as you laughed softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Jungkook watched the interaction, lips pressed together as he tried not to smile. You were so cute.
“Okay, I really better go, I think I’m holding up dinner…” You laughed again, giving Mijoo a final bow, which she eagerly returned. “It was nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, really! Thank you so much. Have a great dinner!” Mijoo smiled brightly, and you returned it, stepping back.
As your gaze shifted to Jungkook, you noticed his eyes were already on Mijoo. She had turned back toward him, continuing their conversation as if no time had passed.
You watched, breath catching for a moment as her hand lightly brushed against his chest.
Jungkook’s ears, already tinted red from his usual shyness, deepened in color. And there it was—his stupid bunny smile. The one you knew so well. Right there on his pouty lips as he looked down at her.
A strange pang settled in your chest, sharp but soft, as if you’d swallowed something too big and it was lodged somewhere just behind your heart. You pushed it down quickly before turning quietly and heading toward the dressing room where your friends were waiting.
Behind you, Mijoo’s soft giggles lingered in the hallway, the sound trailing after you like a taunting echo.
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Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself bundled up in the jacket Taehyung had handed you when he noticed your thin coat not doing much to stop your shivering. You sat quietly on a stool while Nari stood behind you, her fingers gently combing through your hair.
"You alright, honey?" she asked softly, her hands sliding from your hair to rest on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze.
“Hm?" You blinked, snapping out of the daze you had drifted into, your gaze distant. Adjusting the coat draped around your shoulders, you looked up at her. "Yeah, I’m okay, unnie."
Nari nodded, though not fully convinced. She knew you well enough to recognize when something was off. Still, she didn’t press, trusting that if you needed her, you’d speak up. "You hungry?" she asked, her tone gentle.
“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning back into her embrace as her arms wrapped around you. “Are we going to eat now?”
“We’re supposed to be,” Taehyung grumbled from where he sat next to Jimin on the couch, his eyes flicking up from his phone. "We’re just waiting for Jeonggukkie. Where is he, Y/N-ssi? Thought he was with you?"
Before you could answer, the door swung open, and in walked the man of the hour—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly hooded. You swallowed down the bitter taste creeping up your throat.
A collective groan of satisfaction rippled through the room as Jungkook stepped inside, flashing an apologetic smile while dodging playful shoves from his hyungs. His gaze swept over the room, eyes settling on you almost instantly.
"Alright, let’s go," Namjoon called, standing to gather his things. The others followed suit, moving to grab their clothes and bags.
You stayed quiet, watching as Jungkook navigated around Namjoon and started heading your way. Quickly slipping your arms into the sleeves of Taehyung’s jacket, you adjusted it so it wasn’t hanging loosely on your shoulders before turning to Nari. “Unnie, can we go, please?”
Nari’s brows knitted slightly at the urgency in your voice, but she nodded, grabbing her purse and coat before holding out her hand to you. You snatched your phone off the bench, linking your arm with hers, practically hugging her side as she gently ushered your other members to grab their things.
Jiyoung and Eunji moved like fucking snails, lazily climbing off the loveseat, and it took every ounce of restraint not to stomp your foot in frustration. You could feel Jungkook’s presence drawing closer, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you, tightening like an invisible net.
Nari felt the change in your posture.She glanced down at your face, then over your shoulder, her gaze landing on Jungkook as he approached. She looked back and forth between the two of you, then at Jiyoung and Eunji who were still taking their sweet time. With a quiet sigh, she let go of your arm.
Your eyes snapped to hers in panic. You opened your mouth to protest, but the firm look she gave you stopped you in your tracks, making your lips press together in a pout. She stepped away, and your shoulders sagged in defeat. You didn’t have much of a choice anymore—you’d have to talk to him.
You didn’t really have a reason to avoid Jungkook. Nothing you could explain out loud, at least. You just… didn’t feel like it right now.
But when you turned, bracing yourself to face him, relief flooded through you at the sight of Nari intercepting his path.
You exhaled, grabbing the arms of your other two members—who had finally gathered their things—ignoring their teasing laughs as you dragged them out of the dressing room.
“Hey, Jungkook-ssi,” Nari greeted, offering the younger boy a warm smile as he slowed to a stop.
“Hi, noona—oh, Y/N-yah, hey, wait—” Jungkook’s voice trailed off as he watched you hurriedly slip out of the room with Eunji and Jiyoung, leaving only him and your leader behind. “Ah, she must not have heard you,” Nari said with a soft sigh, patting his back as she gently steered him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go have some dinner.”
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You had only just stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind you as the door clicked shut.
The scent of spices from the kitchen floated down the hallway, mixing with the lingering warmth of your shower. You hugged the towel you’d used on your hair to your chest, eyes half-lidded with the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs.
Just as you began to head for your dorm, footsteps echoed behind you, drawing your attention. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jungkook walking toward you, his smile soft, eyes raking over you familiar way he does. Your hair was still damp, falling over your shoulders, and the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing clung comfortably to your skin.
"Hi," he greeted, his voice low, still warm from the kitchen heat. He gave you a once-over, smile widening at the sight of you looking so cozy. "Dinner’s almost ready. Couch or floor?"
Your head tilted as you thought. It was always one or the other, the two of you eating dinner together with the group, perched either on the couch or sitting cross-legged on the floor.
But the image of him asking Lee Mijoo that same question nagged at the back of your mind, a thought you shoved down before it could fester.
"Couch," you answered quietly.
Jungkook nodded, about to turn back toward the living room when he noticed it. Something about the way you stood, or maybe it was your shoulders… they were just a little off. Not something most people would pick up on, but then again, most people weren’t irrevocably in love with you.
"You alright, jjogi?" he asked, voice softer now.
"Uh-huh," you replied with a small smile, turning away before he could ask anything else. "I’ll be out in a sec."
"O—" Jungkook started, but the door to your dorm clicked shut before he could finish. He stood there for a second longer, staring at the closed door, muttering the rest to himself. "-kay."
A few minutes later, Jungkook was back in the living room, adjusting the cushions on the couch when he heard footsteps approaching. "Move, hyung," he grumbled at Jimin, nudging him sharply to get him to scoot over to the left side of the couch instead of sitting smack-bang in the middle.
"Yah!" Jimin laughed, swatting at him. "You’re not the only one who wants to sit next to Y/N-ssi, you know—"
"Shut up," Jungkook shot back, easily overpowering him and forcing him to slide over.
Jungkook planted himself stubbornly in the middle with a huff. He had planned on giving you the middle seat, letting Jimin sit next to you too. But now, Jimin gets nothing.
"Aish, you little—" Jimin shook his head, laughing, just as you wandered into the room.
You had socks and a little zip-up jacket on now, and Jungkook's eyes immediately flicked to the air conditioning meter on the wall. It's warm already.
Maybe you're getting sick, he thought. Ah, that must be why you seemed a little off earlier.
The long coffee table was covered in a spread of food, and your stomach growled in response as you flopped down next to Jungkook. His arm immediately reached out, grabbing an empty bowl and glancing back at you. He pointed at the pot of kimchi-jjigae, a silent question on his lips. It was your favorite, and he already knew you’d want it, but he asked anyway.
You nodded with a small smile, pulling your legs up and crossing them beneath you. Your sock-covered foot pressed against his thigh while his gaze lingered for a second, eyes flickering over your face before he nodded. Turning back to the table, he scooped some rice into the bowl, then topped it with the steaming stew. He grabbed a spoon and handed the bowl to you, careful not to let it spill.
"Thank you," you murmured, giving him a quiet smile before mouthing, 'ttoki'.
Jungkook bit back a laugh, knowing you only whispered it because his brothers loved teasing him whenever you called him that in front of them. He didn’t care. He’d told you that a thousand times, but you still didn't want them to tease him.
Jungkook leaned forward to grab his own bowl when Jimin poked his arm. "Jeonggukkie, can you dish me a bowl too, please?"
"Do it yourself," Jungkook grumbled, scooping his own portion of stew.
"Ttoki!" you gasped in shock, laughing as you nudged him with your foot. "Don’t be rude."
"Yeah, ttoki," Taehyung chimed in from his spot on the floor, snickering with Jiyoung as they dug into their food. "Don’t be rude."
Jungkook’s eyes went wide as he looked at you, and you just tilted your head innocently. He sighed, lips pulling to the side in a begrudging frown as he scooped some of the stew into a bowl for Jimin. He grabbed a spoon and clanked it into the bowl a little aggressively before thrusting it toward Jimin.
"Thank you, ttoki," Jimin cooed, accepting the bowl with a sickeningly sweet smile. "And be a darling bunny and pass me a couple of dumpl—"
You placed your hand on Jungkook’s arm, holding him back just as he lunged at Jimin, ready to tackle him into the back of the couch.
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Dinner was amazing.
You only had one bowl, and though you could've easily finished another, maybe two, you stopped yourself. Practice was early tomorrow, and you knew better than to overeat and feel sick or sluggish. Jungkook, however, kept trying to slip you dumplings or a bread roll whenever he saw the empty bowl in your lap.
You just shook your head, smiling, settling deeper into the couch. He wasn’t thrilled, but when you rested your head on his arm, he relaxed a bit, quietly going back to his second serving.
Now, the cold night air nipped at your neck, sharp against your skin as you sat against the rough brick wall outside the building. The gravel dug into your sweatpants, uncomfortable but not unbearable. You adjusted the phone in your hand as your mother’s concerned voice filled the quiet night.
“Have you been eating well?” she asked, her tone halfway between worried and accusatory. “You’re looking a bit thin, gongju.”
You smiled softly, tilting your head as you rested your chin on your knees. “Yes, eomma. I just had a nice dinner,” you reassured her. “I had the flu, remember? Took a while to get back to normal, but I’m fine now.”
Your mom sighed, the sound crackling through the video call. “Mm. I’ll send some extra choco pies in my next package, just in case—”
“Don’t, please,” you laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I can’t eat those right now, eomma. I’m—”
But your words were cut off by the rise of her familiar Daegu accent, sharp with concern. She launched into a tirade about “dangerous diets” and “ending up in the hospital.”
You winced, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you cut in, “It’s not a bad diet, eomma. It’s a healthy one. I’m just taking better care of myself… something I haven’t done in a while." You laughed lightly, your gaze dropping to the gravel at your feet.
Her sigh came softer this time, a little more accepting. "Well, I'm glad to hear that." A pause lingered between you, then her voice softened again. "You look happy, my gongju. You’re so beautiful when you’re happy."
“Thanks, eomma,” you murmured, your smile widening. "I am happy." You nodded before adding, "You look good too. I like your haircut."
Your mother’s hand automatically went to her hair, fingers combing through the strands of her shoulder-length bob. “Ah, yes. My friend Dong-wook did it, free of charge,” she said with a sly smile. “You remember him, right? The hair stylist I told you about?”
“Mmhm," you hummed knowingly, teasing. “Free of charge, huh?”
She narrowed her eyes. "Don’t start that, Y/N,” she scolded lightly, but you could see her lips curving into a playful smile. “Men and women can be just friends.” 
You blinked, holding back the laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Right.”
She gave you a pointed look before finally breaking into a full smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Isn’t that right, gongju?”
“Eomma,” you warned, shifting your position against the wall.
Your mom was one of the few people you trusted with everything. One of the few who had always supported your dreams, no matter how crazy or far-fetched they seemed. But in moments like this, you almost regretted how much she knew.
“I’m just saying,” she pressed on, “I’m not getting any younger, gongju… and I want to see you happy. With someone who cares about yo—”   “Eomma,” you interrupted, laughing softly, “You’re only forty-three. And I’m nineteen. I have plenty of time for all of that...”   “You do,” she agreed, her voice dipping into a knowing hum. “But why wait when you have everything you need right in front of you?”
You let out a short, exasperated laugh. “Subject change, please,” you muttered, trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction. 
But your mom wasn’t done. “Ah, you’re so focused on your career, darling, and that’s good! But don’t forget that you can still enjoy life… and love.” She gave you that endearing look, the one that made you feel like a child all over again. “You can have both.”
You sighed with a chuckle, resting your chin on your knees again. “Eomma, shouldn’t you be telling me to focus on my career? Not to do drugs or run around chasing boys?” 
She laughed, a warm, rich sound that made your chest ache with homesickness. “Ah, gongju. First of all, I know you’d never do drugs. You’re too much of a gongju for that.” You gasped in mock offense, but she just chuckled. “And as for boys… Honey, you just have to stand in place. He’s the one doing all the running.”
“Eomma,” you groaned, pressing your head against your knees as her sweet laugh echoed through the phone.
“Well, am I wrong?” she teased, and you could practically see the arch of her brow. “He looks at you like you hung every star in the sky. It’s just so adorab—” 
“Stop it,” you whined, hiding your face further. “Guys and girls can be just friends, okay? Just like you and Dong-wook.” 
“Ahhh, I see. Well, if you and Jeongguk-ssi are those kinds of friends,” she said with a mischievous lilt, “then I have nothing to worry about.” 
“Eomma!” You nearly screamed, a hand flying to your face. “Please, I just ate. Don’t make me throw it all up.”
Her laughter bubbled up again, and despite your frustration, you found yourself smiling. “Okay, okay, gongju. I’ll stop.” A brief pause followed before her eyes shifted. “Oh, Jeongguk-ah! Hello, sweetie! How are you?” 
Peeking around the corner of the wall, you saw Jungkook approaching, hands tucked into his pockets, his bunny smile lighting up as soon as he saw your mom.
“Hi, eomma,” he waved, plopping down next to you. You scooted over, making room for him as he took the phone from your hands. “I’m well, and you? Wah, I love your haircut.”
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm linked through his, letting their conversation wash over you. The warmth of his hoodie against your cheek and the gentle rumble of his voice made your eyelids feel heavier. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. 
As your breathing slowed, Jungkook’s voice grew quieter, the volume on your phone clicking down softly three times. You didn’t notice him reach over to pull the zipper of your jacket up properly. But your mom did.
“One second, eomma,” Jungkook said, his voice soft as he turned the phone away. The faint sound of the zipper echoed before he brought the phone back. “Sorry about that. So, what did Minho-hyung do next?” 
Your mom smiled, her eyes catching the sight of your peaceful face, now bundled up against Jungkook’s side, your cheek pressed to his arm as you slept.
“Ah, yes, where was I?” she murmured, a fond smile on her lips as she continued her story. 
Mothers know best.
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The soft glow of the TV illuminated the living room as Toy Story 2 played its final scenes.
The house had long since quieted—everyone else had already gone to bed after the first movie. But you and Jungkook remained, curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over your legs.
It was late. You had practice at 9am, and Jungkook had a full day of promotions ahead, but neither of you moved. 
As the credits began to roll, Jungkook shifted beside you, his voice low and thick with sleep. “Wanna watch the third one?”
You glanced up at him, taking in the way his eyelids drooped, the way his head barely held itself up. “Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked softly.
He nodded, but the movement was languid. “A little..” he mumbled, though even he knew the truth was written all over his face.
Jungkook had been up since 5am, and his exhaustion was obvious, but there was no way he was going to be the one to end the night. Not when he was here, wrapped up in a cozy fucking blanket with you, watching one of his favorite movies.
“Last one,” he added, more to himself than to you, as if convincing his body to stay awake just a little longer.
You smiled softly, nodding as he stood up, gathering the empty popcorn bowl. He stretched, a yawn slipping from his lips before he bent to grab your water bottle from the coffee table. He gave it a small shake, noticing it was nearly empty, and tucked it under his arm. “Be back in a sec,” he murmured, his steps slow as he disappeared into the kitchen.
You watched him go, warmth filling your chest as you reached for the remote. You began typing Toy Story 3 into the search bar when Jungkook’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Your fingers hesitated over the remote for a split second, your eyes drifting to the lit-up screen. You quickly shook off the urge to look, refocusing on the TV as you continued your search. The letters appeared slowly on the screen, but the phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back.
You tried to ignore it. Really… you did. You forced yourself to focus on the title in front of you, but it wasn't long until another buzz echoed through the room.
You pressed your lips into a thin line. Alright, Mr. Popular, you thought, lips curving in a humourless smile as you clicked on the movie, pausing it while it loaded to wait for Jungkook.
The quiet around you felt heavier than it should’ve. The only sounds were the soft hum of the microwave and the trickle of water from the kitchen as Jungkook filled your bottle. Your eyes flicked to his phone again, resting innocently on the table.
You didn’t know why you did it.
Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else. But your hand moved of its own accord, fingertips brushing the screen and watching as it lit up.
His notifications flashed before your eyes—Instagram, Clash of Clans, (1) text from Eomma, (3) text from Unknown.
Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were already typing in his passcode.
Unknown [11:48 PM] hey jungkook! sorry i hope this doesn't wake youㅋㅋ [11:48 PM] it's me, lee mijoo!! [11:49 PM] just let me know when you wanted to meet up :) 💖
A rush of heat spread through your chest, your fingers freezing over the screen before you scrambled to lock the phone. Your breath was shaky as you placed it back on the table, the blanket that had been so warm moments ago now felt suffocating, too heavy, too much.
You tried to steady your thoughts, shifting uncomfortably on the couch as you heard Jungkook returning. He plopped down beside you with a soft grunt, his arm brushing yours as he held out the water bottle. “Did you want some?”
You just shook your head, unable to find your voice. Jungkook gave a small nod, setting the bottle on the table as he checked his phone briefly.
You watched out of the corner of your eye, your stomach twisting as his thumb hovered over the notifications. He swiped through them casually, not even bothering to read the messages before setting the phone back down, oblivious.
Jungkook settled back into the couch, adjusting the popcorn bowl on his lap as he reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulders like he always did. But this time, you leaned forward quickly, grabbing the remote before he could touch you. His arm hovered for a second, confused, before dropping limply to his side.
His brows furrowed slightly, but he waited, watching as you pressed play on the movie. When you leaned back, his arm instinctively moved again, grazing your shoulder, but you shifted once more, pulling away.
This time, he knew it wasn’t an accident.
“Jjogi?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “Is everything okay?”
You nodded, lips pressed tightly together, your gaze fixed on the screen. “Yeah,” you murmured, watching as Woody chased after One-Eyed Betty.
Jungkook frowned, concern etched into his features. His stomach knotted as he shoved a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were upset. That he had done something.
So he set the bowl on the coffee table, turning toward you. “Are you too tired? We don’t have to keep watching if you want to sleep.”
“I’m not tired,” you replied, your tone clipped.
You weren’t lying—you didn’t feel tired anymore. But you weren’t exactly sure what you felt, either. All you knew was that you didn’t like it.
“Did I…do something?” he asked hesitantly, his heart sinking as he searched your face.
“No.” The word came out flat, your eyes never leaving the screen.
“Are you hungry? I could—”
“God, Jeongguk, would you just stop?” you snapped, cutting him off. “I said I’m fine. Just watch the movie.”
He flinched, swallowing hard at the sharpness in your voice.
Jeongguk? You were pissed.
But he had no idea why.
“Jjogi—” he started again, but before he could finish, you tossed the blanket off your legs and stood up abruptly. His eyes widened as he watched you stomp away.
In your haste, your leg hit the edge of the coffee table, knocking your water bottle over and sending his phone tumbling to the floor. Jungkook leaned forward immediately, grabbing the bottle and standing it upright before scooping up his phone.
“Jjogi,” he called softly, trailing after you as you walked toward your room.
“Just go away, Jeongguk,” you muttered, your voice low and tired.
“Please, jjogi,” he pleaded, his steps quickening to catch up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you sighed, still walking. “I just want to be alone.”
“All of a sudden?” His frown deepened, frustration creeping into his voice. “Please, just talk to me.”
You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. "Why don’t you just go talk to Mijoo?"
Jungkook froze, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "Mijoo?" he echoed, the name foreign on his lips, as though he had to drag it out of the depths of his mind. "What… what are you talking about?"
Mijoo? Lee Mijoo? The conversation they’d had with her earlier replayed in his mind, but nothing about it stood out. Had she said something to upset you? No way. He would’ve noticed.
“Okay, I really better go. I think I’m holding up dinner…” you’d said with a light laugh as you tried to make your exit. Jungkook had nodded absentmindedly, his stomach grumbling as he prepared to part ways with Mijoo and follow you. “It was so nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, really, thank you so much. Have a good dinner!” Mijoo had smiled, her face bright and friendly.
Jungkook had smiled politely in return, already about to bow and follow after you, when Mijoo’s hand brushed lightly against him. “Wow, so you’re really a ‘97-liner? Gah, so talented…”
He’d felt the heat creeping up his neck, a blush rising as he shook his head. “Ahh, thank you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you turning to leave, your figure retreating down the hall and disappearing into the doorway of the dressing room without so much as a glance back at him. His heart sank.
“Ah, I better—” he’d started, ready to go after you.
But Mijoo’s soft, hopeful voice interrupted him. “Would it be too forward of me to ask for your number? I really enjoyed talking to you, and would love to do it again sometime? Maybe we could…”
Jungkook didn't hear the rest of her words, his eyes darting back toward the now-empty hallway where you had disappeared. A dull ache settled in his chest.
He barely registered Mijoo’s outstretched phone, his hand moving automatically to take it. He forced a smile, fingers trembling slightly as he typed his number into the device. But his heart wasn’t in it.
Obviously, his subconscious mocked. Because it belongs to her.
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i’ll reblog with my taglist tmrw, i’m about to get taken by the sleepy police..😞 love youu 💗💤
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mv1simp · 3 days ago
Text
That Boy Is Mine ♥️
Max Verstappen x Siren!Reader
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that boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him, watch me take me time, boy is divine (that boy is mine)
As a young, beautiful and rich CEO living in Monaco, you have any man you want in the palm of your hand. But a certain handsome Dutchman has caught your eye…there’s just a small problem of his current girlfriend that’s in your way! You’ll just have to prove to Max how much better you could spoil him.
Content Includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, seductress! girlboss! Reader, naive!max, infidelity but Max’s unnamed gf is annoying anyway, size kink, Halloween costume sex lol, seriously explicit cheating don’t read if not ur thing!!!
The thing was, you wouldn’t normally ever go to such lengths for a boy. Why would you? You were a pretty girl in her 20’s living in Monaco, running your own successful public relations management firm. That’s how you’d met Max, through a PR crisis of Redbull that Christian Horner had personally called you to get sorted. Some drama with a defamation lawsuit against their poster boy, Max Verstappen, who you hadn’t paid a second of attention to despite living in Monaco. You were much more likely to get your nails done and enjoy a glass of wine than be following a race weekend.
But after you’d easily sorted the mess out, you’d been suprised to find Max himself patiently waiting in your luxurious office, wanting to thank you with a gift of tasteful French wine. It’s rare for one of your clients to take accountability for their actions instead of letting their managers sort it out for them, after all. You don’t miss the way Max’s pretty blue eyes widened as he took in your appearance, with a tight black dress with lacy sleeves that did wonders to push your tits up temptingly. He’d been expecting some old man, not a beautiful girl his age. He cleared his throat nervously, suddenly finding it hard to maintain contact with your sultry eyes as he stuttered his thank you. Cute, you think with a tilt of your head, enjoying his deep Dutch accent. He’s very different to the arrogant, pompous personality you’d expected from a champion F1 driver. And he was insanely gorgeous too, all 6 foot of thick thighs and broad shoulders. You’ve met many attractive men in Monaco and flirted your way around them, but Max catches your eye with his baby blue eyes and soft blonde locks. So you can’t help gently brushing your manicured hand against his bulging bicep, looking up at him with fluttering lashes to say it’s so sweet of him to go to all the trouble to come downtown, really, you’re happy to help him anytime!
He walks out of your office with your personal phone number for any media emergencies, of course. As well as a blushing face and a semi erection he guiltily tugs at his pants to hide, after looking down to see your plump, soft cleavage when your smaller body pressed up against his.
A quick google stalk of your client leaves you feeling very annoyed when you discover he’s not single like you’d originally hoped. You roll your eyes as you look at the B list model’s Insta he’s dating, spammed full of photos of her with Max’s wins for clout or artificial brand collabs. So tacky and undeserving of someone like Max, you muse later that evening over an espresso martini. You’re too deep in your own thoughts to pay attention to your date with a Monaco hotel chain owner that evening.
When you find a massive bouquet of roses on your desk the next day, you assume your date was being persistent despite your disinterest last night. But when you find VIP tickets to Max’s garage next race and first class flights nestled amongst the red flowers, you’re even more intrigued. You attended, out of curiosity more than anything. You’re not planning on getting involved with an already taken man - far too much drama for the CEO of a media relations company.
But you can’t deny Max knows how to give a girl princess treatment, something which you’d gotten used to providing for yourself since no man had been able too. From the relaxing, personalised flight experience, to the sleek expensive Mercedes he’d had sent to pick you up at the airport, the 5 star suite in a hotel, and to the exciting VIP lounge at his garage filled with interesting people you’d easily networked with. And when you see Max confidently dominate through the track to P1, sounding so sexy over the radio without a hint of shyness, pulling off his helmet afterwards to show off his gorgeous, messy hair as he adorably smiles at you to ask how you’d enjoyed the day, you realized this wasn’t just any man. No, Max was the one, the perfect man to provide you with whatever you asked for and take care of you when you needed him.
Not that you needed him to. After all, you were well known as one of the most successful businesswomen in your country - and you didn’t get that title without a pair of fangs to match. You’d be a true power couple - much better suited than his current subpar girlfriend, who dragged him down in every way.
You’d made up your mind. That boy was destined to be yours, no matter what.
So you began developing your relationship with Max and become frequently seen on the paddock, all under the guise of improving his media image, of course. The handsome blonde had no issues spending time with you, finding you to share his sarcastic sense of humour and in awe of your very keen analytical sense that you easily applied to the racing world as well. He liked how you were unfazed with the media circus that surrounded him, too, not blinking twice when trashy gossip magazines posted suggestive captions about you and Max. And you always seemed to know just how to carefully phrase your words assertively when asked insensitive questions by grid reporters, who were curious about Max’s new PR advisor. It was very different to what he was used to with his girlfriend, who frequently fed into gossip column content with Insta posts and livestreams - which constantly annoyed Max.
Soon you’re a regular amongst his group of friends. You meet his girlfriend, finally, at a dinner one night. She’s taken her hold on Max for granted, barely interested in you as she snaps selfies with the more famous people at the table. You can’t resist the foxy smile on your glossed lips - it’s almost too easy, given how unaware she seems of how discontent Max is with the relationship. You sit next to him all night, laughing and sipping your favourite wine that he now knows by heart and orders for you, the conversation genuine and a bit too flirty for “just friends”. And when your lace minidress rides up, and your soft thighs and crossed ankles brush against his muscular legs, he doesn’t move away, letting you press against him for warmth when he rests his large palm around your thigh. Your panties are soaked through by the time you get home from how often you had to clench your legs, imaging his massive hands drifting just a bit higher…
It’s easy to blame the touchiness on the alcohol the next morning and strictly maintain your professional distance as you hand him paperwork to sign in your office. You smirk when you catch his eyes in a passing mirror, glued to your ass through another tight lace dress as you walk away in Louboutin stilettos. Max was very much an ass man - that is, when he wasn’t being a tits man. You certainly had no qualms showing off your thick curves to him, knowing you had a lot more to offer than his girlfriend. It was impossible to miss the way his blue eyes would drift towards your tempting body whenever he thought no one was looking.
So next weekend, you invite him onto your boat for a day trip. It’s much smaller than his personal multi level yacht, but perfect for what you had planned. It’s a nice touch to have all your coupled up friends with you, who disappear off to various rooms in the boat as the sun gets hotter and they get drunker. You hand Max another strong G&T you’ve mixed yourself, now just alone on the top deck with him. He takes it easily, telling you you’d make a deadly bartender. You hmm, resting a knee on the couch he sits on. It’s a manoeuvre that brings your bouncing tits, barely covered in a white skimpy bikini, right into his eyeline. Max takes one look at your nipples pebbling through the fabric, gulps cutely, and promptly drains the glass in his hand.
You try to contain the smile on your glossed lips as he tries and fails to look away from your tits in his face, stammering out responses to idle chit chat you’re making. It’s adorable how his confident, dominating personality switches so fast off the track with you. At one point you say you’re sorry that his girlfriend couldn’t make it (you aren’t - you’d planned the getaway on a day you knew she had a modelling gig booked, of course, since you’re the one who’d pulled strings to set up the photoshoot). Relaxed with all the G&Ts, Max mentions that actually, his girlfriend had been very persistent in trying to stop him coming today.
Oh? You say with faux innocence, tilting your head and widening your doe eyes with worry. Why? She doesn’t like me? Max rushes to soothe your worries, saying no, no, it was more that - well, I think she’s a bit jealous…you’re very beautiful, after all. I think I might just need to spend more time with her from now on. You laugh at his cute blush, telling him Of course, but she had nothing to worry about, after all she was the model and not you!
You know how to play the game, knew that despite his model girlfriend at his side, you had him practically drooling in your tiny white bikini, contrasting beautifully against your tan skin. But he had to be the one to cross the line first, and think it was all his idea. Especially if his bitchy girlfriend was starting to catch onto your plans and demanding Max stay with her. So you walk away, making sure to sway your hips so he can enjoy the view of your ass as you lay on your tummy to sweetly ask your cute lifeguard if he’d mind putting sunscreen on your back?
Your lifeguard jumps at the chance, having already been checking you out all day. He’s taking the bottle and raking his eyes over your form hungrily - but Max interrupts even sooner than you’d predicted. His love language being physical touch works in your favour. You hide your pleased smile as a deep Dutch voice heatedly says that he can do it, and you turn to see Max glaring at the lifeguard with all the intensity of a lion. Are you sure you don’t mind, Max? You say sweetly, blinking your thick lashes up at him from your compromising position, your head right at the level of his hips. You hope he’s thinking the same naughty thoughts as you when his blue gaze darkens. That it would be so easy to slide his thick fingers past your pouting lips and hold them open as he messily fucks your all too willing mouth. You bite your bottom lip at the filthy idea.
You see him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in that huge muscled neck of his. No, it’s okay! That lifeguard…well, I don’t want him putting his hands on you. God, you couldn’t wait to lick hickeys all up and down his broad shoulders before wrapping your thighs around them as he ate you out. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, coming back to the present as you lie down to let Max touch up your sunscreen. His large palms are tentative at first, trying to remain respectful within the boundaries of friendship. But when you’re softly sighing, moaning that it feels so good, Maxie, work has made my back way to tense, could you use one of those massage techniques your physio taught you? it’s impossible for him to not go a little further. Your tiny bikini easily lets him explore your body, his strong hands gripping your plush hips and giving him a naughty mental picture of what you’d look like if he took you from the back. You’re glad your sunglasses are extra dark so you can peek at his trunks, enjoying the rapidly hardening large bulge there, responding to all the cute little moans and gasps you’re letting out as you tremble under his touch.
You decide to tease him a bit more, reaching behind your neck to untie your string bikini, shyly saying you didn’t want to get tan lines…he didn’t mind, right? You can totally go ask the lifeguard to help!
Max’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your bare back as he dazedly shakes his head, huskily saying he was happy to help, you’re his friend after all. All the blood rushed straight from his brain to his cock to make his decision as he feels the lush swell of your tits from the side when they generously slip out. You celebrate your victory internally when he shyly asks if he could take off your bikini bottoms so you didn’t get tan lines there, too?
You hesitate, coquettishly blinking and asking him if his girlfriend would be mad? Max pauses with your reminder, his large hands spread over your juicy asscheeks as he resists the urge to squeeze them. Your plan falls right into place as you cheekily suggest that surely it would be okay if he closed his eyes, just for a second, you really didn’t want tan lines there after all-
That was all Max needed to hear before he eagerly nodded, looking the picture of an overexcited puppy. This time you can’t resist your smirk as your slowly untie your bottoms, jiggling your ass as you slide them down so he catches a glimpse of the tempting flesh before he remembers to close his eyes. His large, calloused palms run down your plump ass, unable to resist squeezing roughly and making you moan sexily. You part your legs invitingly, and when those thick fingers of his brush against your pussy you know he can feel how wet you are for him. So dripping wet, that one of his fingers easily slides against your warm pussy lips. Max, you gasp breathily, your entrance instinctively clenching around the tip of his thick finger. What are you- Oh! Desire rushes straight to his groin as he gets a feel of how tight your sweet cunny would feel squeezing down on something else thick of his and he can’t help but sink his finger all the way in. It takes him longer than it should to come to his senses and move his hand away, stammering out apologies that he hadn’t meant to touch you there, his hand just slipped, could you forgive him?
To his relief, you giggle at his flushed face, turning around to meet his embarrassed gaze. Don’t worry about it, accidents happen! you say playfully, as if you hadn’t planned this, tying your bikini back up slowly. As he watches you strut away confidently in your little heeled sandals, he can’t resist tasting the wetness you’d left all over his fingers. He almost cums in his trunks from how sweet you taste, and hastily returns to his room. You smirk when you press an ear to your bedroom wall, hearing the shower running in Max’s bathroom right next door. Sadly for you, you can’t hear anything over the sound of the shower, leaving you pouting and pussy aching from the memory of Max’s hands on you.
But just on the other side, a certain blonde Dutchman is giving into his growing taboo desires. It’s not the first time he’s jerked off to you - no, with all the frequent teasing glimpses of your plush cleavage or your ass in tight dresses, he’s regularly mentally drooling over you. He knows it’s wrong, and in the beginning he did feel guilty…but now only the thought of your sexy little body that can get him hard like this. Tipping his head back and letting the cool water flow down his abs, Max slowly jerks off his impressive erection as he fantasies about you shaking and cutely moaning underneath him. Your lush tits spilling out from the sides, your wide hips that would be the perfect thing for him to hold tightly as he fucked you in doggystyle, his favourite. And now he knew what your soft tanned skin felt like, how sweet and wet your cunny was for him….well, it’s enough to make him addicted. He’s cumming within seconds, biting his lips and imagining how good it would feel to bury his aching cock inside your cunny instead of his finger next time.
He still blushes cutely when he sees you next, at a friend’s party, but you’re as nonchalant as ever, greeting him with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He watches you laugh at something one of his guy friends are saying and can’t stop the jealousy swirling in his chest, even when his girlfriend tugs on his arm to get him his attention all night.
Of course, you’re playing the long game. It didn’t matter how many men you flirted with - there was only one who you truly wanted. So for one of the exclusive Halloween parties in Monaco, you discreetly organise one of the big fashion houses you represent to send Max’s girlfriend a haute couture costume. She accepts it, spamming her Insta story with pics of it, just like you’d expected. You’re certain she would show up to the event with a reluctant Max in tow.
And on that night of the Halloween party, you smile as you spot a bored looking Max across the living room of the mansion the party is hosted at. His gorgeous blue eyes widen as he spots you…dressed in the same costume as his girlfriend. But you’d had some customised alterations made, looking ethereal in your white angel costume, tits pushed up with a corset and soft tummy and hips on display in your low waisted miniskirt. Max is far from the only guy who stared at you hungrily as you entered - including your date, some Russian model you’d met at a PR event, dressed just like Max in a tight fitting shirt and a Ghostface mask that hid his identity when on.
Someone might just call your choice of couple’s costume a random coincidence, but you didn’t make mistakes like that. Your date had two jobs tonight - one which he’d already done successfully, as you see Max’s icy blue gaze glaring at the hand around your waist. You whisper in your date’s ear, parting ways for now, because he had another mission to go complete that you’d already asked him to do for you as a favour. Namely, keeping Max’s goldigging girlfriend occupied tonight. And since your date happened to inherit his father’s multimillion manufacturing business, you were sure Max’s girlfriend would be throughly enraptured by him.
You laugh and mingle with friends throughout the night, catching Max’s intense gaze on you a few times but pretending to ignore it. He’s finally had enough of seeing you flirt with other guys when you end up on the dancefloor. You shiver as you feel his strong, muscled body behind you, shielding you from any guy who tries to get close to you. That’s fine with you, because the only one you wanted to grind back against was Max after all. So you toss your hair, getting lost in the music and tipsily giggling, enjoying the low rumble in Max’s chest as your fat ass teases his hardening bulge. His large palms settle possessively over your hips, leaning down to smell your sweet vanilla perfume. He lets you drag him into a quiet, dark corner, giggling and pressing your soft body against his as you whisper he looked so hot tonight, his biceps looked amazing, had he been working out more?
And then your doe eyes, prettily outlined in glittery eyeshadow and eyeliner, look up from his muscular chest to meet his piercing blue eyes as he pulls his mask off. You gasp, widening your eyes in supposed shock as you blush and stammer that you’re so sorry Max, you’d thought he was your date, he’s dressed the same after all…
He’s disappointed, of course, missing the touch of your manicured fingers running up and down his abs. He ends up agreeing to help you find your date again after you look at him pleadingly, although the idea of letting another guy put his hands on you makes him want to unleash Mad Max. But when you two finally find your date, behind a closed bedroom door upstairs, you see he’s been kept very good company by none other than Max’s girlfriend.
Your hands fly to your mouth in pretend shock at the scene of your date with his balls deep inside the gold digging girlfriend, her artificial sounding moans radiating around the room. Your date had exceeded your expectations and kept her very well occupied, it seemed. Max is disgusted with the sight, snarling in anger and moving to block your view of your date cheating on you. He’s so sweet, really, being so protective of you when you’d executed the whole plan to perfection. You hear his girlfriend exclaim in shock, trying to plead that it wasn’t what it looked like…but you’d given the Dutchman the final excuse to call it off. Don’t ever fucking come near me or her again, he growls, his voice radiating confidence and authority in a way which makes you squeal internally.
To your delight, Max insists on taking you home, worried about how you’d feel after finding your date cheating on you…with his backstabbing ex girlfriend, he mutters darkly. He’s fuming at her betrayal, but as you lead him into your cozy apartment you’re already planning your next scheme. When he asks you gently if you’re sure you’re ok, is there anything he could do to help, he’s so sorry that his ex got involved with your personal life like this you sweetly nod and tell him you just wanted to take your mind off it all.
He’s eager to help you, nodding enthusiastically when you ask if he’d help plan your costume for your next Halloween event the following night? Your date would no longer be helping you, after all. Of course, schat, anything you want he says earnestly, pretty blue eyes looking at you with adoration as you pout. Handing him a glass of whiskey to sip on while you guide him to sit on the end of your bed, you sashay into your walk in closet. You make sure to leave the door half open, so Max gets a full view of the red lingerie you’re wearing underneath your costume. You take your time getting ready, bending over to pull on your outfit and shaking your hips enticingly, making sure to give Max a naughty show. And if the angel costume had been sexy, the schoolgirl outfit you put on next is positively scandalous. You shyly walk out in heels and a tiny pleated skirt, skimpy white top tied around your breasts to push them out even more as you twirl for him. What do you think? you ask anxiously when Max just stares without saying anything. It looks bad, doesn’t it-
He hastily denies your words, stumbling out that you looked gorgeous, you always did, you didn’t have anything to worry about.
When you giggle happily and announce that you had a few more to show him, he licks his lips in anticipation and drains more of the whiskey from his glass. You give him another slow striptease through your closet door, this time taking off your bra so he gets a flash of your hard nipples. You see him widen his legs to accomodate the raging erection hanging in between his thick thighs and have to stop yourself drooling at the delicious sight. But Max is the one controlling himself next when you emerge in a cat costume, all black latex booty shorts and tight corset, paired with kitten ears and a tail.
His jaw drops open at the tempting sight, and when you ask him if he thinks it’s cute enough to make your date regret cheating on you he clenches his jaw and growls that the pathetic bastard didn’t deserve the privilege of seeing you all dressed up like this.
You try and fail to hide your coy smile at Max’s jealous words, and then find yourself pulled forward in between his legs as he murmurs that there were plenty of other ways to get back at your date. Oh? You say breathlessly, sinking onto your plush ass to sit in between his spread thighs, resting your cheek against his leg. Like what, Maxie?
He groans at the temptation in front of him, of your glossed pouting lips right next to where he needed you the most. You’re not behaving like a good kitty, he jokes, but his voice is rough as desire swirls in his eyes. You’re teasing me far too much while thinking about some guy nowhere near my level.
You grin like a Cheshire and slowly get on all fours, swaying your ass in the air and nuzzling your face right up against his bulging erection. Am I still a bad girl now? you whisper, flicking your tongue out to lick his zipper sluttily. Shall I make it up to you? Max groans above you, thick neck flexing as he tangles a large palm into your hair. Schatje, he says breathlessly, as you slowly unzip his jeans, squealing in delight as his fat cock emerges to slap against your cheeks. So big, Maxie you croon, going cross eyed as you place kitten licks all along his engorged cockhead. What did I say about teasing me? Max groans above you, applying delicious pressure to the back of your head as he pushes your lips down onto his shaft. Mmfh! Your moans are muffled as he loses control, fucking your mouth without abandon. Pleased moans fill the air as you drool over his length, letting him throat fuck you and use you for his pleasure. Your pink lip gloss is smeared all over his cock as your eyes roll back in your head, one of your hands reaching down to play with your aching cunny as Max leaves bruises in the back of your mouth.
Weeks of sexual tension finally lead to him cumming in your throat, so far down that you swear you can fill him hit your tummy, and you obediently suck up every last drop. He’s so far from done, though. He wants you on your hands and knees, his strong hands ripping a hole into your slutty latex shorts to hungrily taste your sweet pussy again. Soon enough your bedroom is filled with obscene sounds of Max fucking his bare cock into your cunny, pounding into you from behind. It’s even hotter than his dirtiest fantasies, and he’s making you tremble and scream his name as he presses down on your neck, burying your face into the sheets and whispering filthy praise in your ear. You’re so pleased you’d thought to set up a tiny camera by your nightstand, capturing every second of your first fuck with Max so you can enjoy it later. Your pussy squeezes around his length like a vice, and it’s most euphoric feeling he’s experienced in his life. He’s cumming again within minutes, moaning how good you feel, he fucking loves your cunt, loves you and takes you over the edge with him as he gives you an open mouthed kiss.
You smile contentedly against his warm lips, letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. Your red manicured nails tangle possessively in soft blonde locks as you sigh into the passionate make out. Max was exactly where he belonged, finally - in your bed, with you in his arms.
And unlike the silly women who’d taken him for granted, you were never going to let him go.
—————————————————————————
A/N: thank you soooo much for ur patience my dear readers, I fear I was getting a bit of writers block seeing all the photos of max and Kelly in the holiday season 😭😭😭 I hope u guys enjoy this piece!! Send me lots of ur raunchy asks plz I need inspiration ♥️♥️
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haoetoile · 1 day ago
Text
two of me are cuter - choi seungcheol
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word count: 3,467
genre: smut with hints of fluff by the start!
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pairing: newly-married!seungcheol x fem!reader
a/n: i went ia bc of the holidays but now i'm back and finally ready to write this account's first smut (honestly idk if this will turn out great but i hope so). this smut is totally dedicated to @euteamomuitocheol (ily <3) and was kinda based in juno by sabrina carpenter. ps: this was not revised before posting!!
contains: you go to his mother's house with your newly-married husband seungcheol for a family reunion and both of you spend some time with your nephews, which leads both of you wanting a baby. reader is described to be much shorter than cheol! smut contains: names (bunny, princess, slut, darling), fingering, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, multiple positions, squirting, mating press, creampie, and filthy language, slight dumbification if you squint (?) , basically, a breeding smut. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!
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sat at your vanity, you finished to loosen the last curls you had just done with the babyliss. after that, you inspected carefully all traces of your makeup to see if there was anything unblended or smudged before getting up, there was no need to clean up the vanity now as you could do it once you got back home
to be honest, you always loved to go to seungcheol's family reunions, as his family was very welcoming and supportive to your relationship since the very beginning of it, and his parents treated you like their own child. you also really loved to spend some time with mom, who would often teach you new recipes to cook and find cute and amusing how eager you were to learn seungcheol's likings, she would also show you his baby pictures, and tell stories about him and about how she and her husband fell in love, and not to mention his whole family was very supportive of you, like the time when you graduated law school and when your own family didn't even showed up, they celebrated as if it was one of their own blood who graduated
you were looking now at the full-body mirror in your shared room, fixing your black dress so it was correctly in place and smoothed out, when you felt hands gripping your waist lightly
"you look gorgeous, honey" seungcheol's voice was a bit raspy, making you shiver as his soft lips met your cheek for a peck "i am the luckiest man alive for being able to marry you, my princess"
"such a flatterer" you smiled, laughing softly as you heard him chuckle "i love you so much, cheol" you felt him lean a bit more, trying to kiss you "not now, babe, you'll smudge my lipstick"
...
during the car ride, you felt both nervous and excited to get there. you two haven't been able to see his family for 5 months now, as the honeymoon and the newly-wed life was busying you two much more you'd like. his brother's wife had given birth to a beautiful baby girl two months after your honeymoon started, and a month after, it was their eldest twins' birthday, so you were nervous if they'd be angry about you two missing the festivities or not, and excited to meet the new babies
actually, his family was really glad you two were finally back and were really excited to hear about the italy trip you guys made as a honeymoon and was equally excited to receive the gifts you bought while touring around the country and, of course, try all the different wines you bought
...
after giving away the gifts and telling stories about the trip, you found yourself sitting with his brother's wife, talking a little more about the honeymoon and motherhood, as she held little younghwa, the newest addition to the family
"she grew up a lot already" you nearly jumped as seungcheol back hugged you "i remember when you were pregnant" his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke to his sister-in-law, not wanting to wake up the newborn baby
"she truly did. younghwa's being a blessing, she's actually very calm for a newborn and it's not being hard at all to take care of" the older woman said with a smile on her face as she caressed the top of the baby's head
"i feel like it'd be quite hard to take care of a newborn for what i've heard of" your husband replied
"it's not as hard as it seems, you kind of get the hang of it once you have your own, but i swear it's not hard. here, hold her a bit, you'll see how easy it is" his sister-in-law put the sleeping baby in his arms
fuck, you thought, he looked so hot with a baby in his arms. this shouldn't be having the effect it was on you, the idea of getting pregnant with his child suddenly becoming attractive
"see? it's easy to hold a newborn, you just have to support their head well and make sure they don't fall. so, when are you two having a kid too?" the question made you bite your lip, scared of seungcheol's answer
"it seems a bit earlier to have babies as we're still newlyweds, but y/n and i are currently having some fun trying... right, babe?" you blushed at the question "we had really nice tries in italy"
"seungcheol!" you scolded him in a screamed-whisper, stomping on his feet to not startle the sleeping baby on his arms "you don't say those things in public, specially not in front of your family!" you were pretty sure your face was not pink anymore but bright red, and he laughed softly before apologizing
"but it's funny to see you blushing, love~" he laughed again, handling younghwa back to her mother "come here, let's play with the kids"
he guided you to the yard, where the 4-year-olds were playing with a huge variety of toys that seungcheol's parents set up for when their grandchildren would go there
...
you two played for a couple hours with the kids. seeing seungcheol lift them, play with them, hug them, and be a gentle and loving uncle was not helping at all the baby fever you had just given yourself from seeing him earlier, and as if on cue, your little niece looked at him with big, sparkly eyes
"uncle cheol, when are we having a cousing to play with us?" she was sat on his thigh, and her brother, who was on yours, was quick to nod in agreement – god, it had to be a divine sign, no way everyone would be asking you two about kids if not to finally stop your baby fever with what you wanted the most: getting pregnant
"as soon as possible, bubs. me and auntie y/n are having a long conversation with the stork to deliver a baby as soon as possible to our home~" he used a gentle tone, fixing the little girl's bang before releasing her from his grasp, seeing both her and her brother return him the cutest smiles ever
he was just so gentle with them... the soft-spoken way he'd talk to the kids, the bubbly, cheerful way he'd always have around them, the way he was ever so gentle. fuck, you needed to have his baby so bad you could feel your mind fogging up any other thoughts
...
the way back home was quieter than usual, you two would often make some small talk, but you were just so absorbed and distracted by the thoughts of starting a family of your own with him, you'd barely talk if not to answer him
"baby... is there something wrong?" seungcheol asked in concern, using one of his hands to slowly caress your thigh in a soothing way "you seem awfully quiet now"
"i'm okay, cheol, don't worry" you flashed him a quick smile
"really, bunny?" he used that nickname since you two started dating, and yet it never failed to make you blush "you usually are not that quiet around me" he cocked a brow "is there anything you want to tell me?"
as you opened your mouth to talk, he continued "are you like this because everyone seemed to ask us for a child today?"
"actually... yes" you inhaled deeply "but, like, not in a bad way... i mean... you were just so hot with younghwa in your arms, and the way you treated the twins... god, it's giving me such baby fever" you stuttered a bit and could feel your cheeks turning a light shade of pink, but you were also relieved you could finally share your thoughts with your husband
"is that so, bunny?" he chuckled "well, i suppose it's more than fair i knock you up as soon as possible, then" he smirked, squeezing your thigh gently as he reverse-parked into your assigned parking spot
"c`mon, let's take this to the bedroom, then" seungcheol started leaving open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you were pinned against the elevator wall, not caring if he'd leave bruises or not
you tried your best not to moan, biting your lip as he licked and sucked at your sensitive spot, leaving you helplessly wet by any second with just that
"c-cheol" you panted "not here... someone can see us and there are cameras"
"you're right, bunny... but don't think i won't have my way with you once we're inside" he left a last mark on your neck before pulling away, waiting so the elevator would stop at your floor
once inside, you both stepped out of your shoes, and as soon as possible, you were already in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as you two were in an intense make out session, tongues fighting each other over dominance, sucking the air out of both lungs. you couldn't help but moan, feeling clouded just from the feeling of his mouth on yours, making you get even wetter, as seungcheol was always a good kisser
before you could even say anything, you were already in the room and sat by the end of the bed, with big, veiny hands undoing the zipper of your dress, exposing the black lacy set you wore just for him
"fuck, you look so pretty..." he groaned in your ear, peppering kisses all the way from your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone, while his hands lowered the thin straps of the balconette bra, making his way to your breasts
your nipples pert up at his advances, your whole body already on fire from the light touches "how come are you even sexier than usual today, bunny? are you trying to kill me?" the raspy voice made your nipples pert up even more, and you just whined in answer
seungcheol laughed at your reaction, and was quick enough to attach his lips to one of your nipples, while his hands undid the clasp of the bra. once he got them away, one of his hands went up to play with the neglected nipple, pinching and rubbing in the same pace his mouth would lick, suck and gently bite on the other nub
you felt wetter by any second, not being able to hold the moans anymore, and as much as you'd like to ask him to stop teasing you, you knew better than anyone seungcheol wasn't going to stop, so you decided to take off your drenched panties by yourself
as your hands slid down to pull the underwear piece south, his hands were quick to stop yours, and your eyes met his face, which carried on a smirk "that desperate already, are we?" he chuckled again "no need to, princess, i'll take care of you" he assured you
seungcheol's hands caressed your curves slowly, as if they were memorizing your body and registering how it felt to touch it, before he finally pulled down your panties "you look so, so sexy, princess... you look so sexy i'm afraid i'll have to mark you as mine, to make sure no one else looks at my princess" he growled softly, earning a mewl from you
his hands pried your legs open gently, as a contrast to his words, exposing your soaking wet folds to him "are you that wet from thinking about how i'll breed this pussy tonight, bunny?" one of his fingers teased the folds, gathering the moisture and spreading it all over the nether lips
you couldn't even answer him, as when you opened your mouth to, his fingers plunged inside your cunt, with sharp but slow strokes. you couldn't help but moan even louder when his fingers started moving faster, while his thumb circled your clit, he needed to prep you for his cock, but god, he had such skilled fingers, he was able to get you dumb just by fingering you
he added another finger, slowly scissoring them inside you, making your thighs quiver and your moans get more erratic. his pace was relentless, and you could feel the coil on your stomach ready to snap, your hips jerking forward with each thrust
"already that desperate to cum, princess? do i have that much effect on you?" he sucked on your neck, slowing down his pace painfully to tease you
"a-ah... cheol, please...." you whined "please, i'll do whatever you want me to if you let me cum.... please" you were practically fucking yourself on his hand by now, moaning and trying to pull the best doe eyes you could to make him give you what you wanted, and who was seuncheol to deny it? specially when you were begging so cutely and offering to be completely at his mercy
suddenly, his thrusts regain the same pace and strength of before, your mind fogging up completely as you could only moan his name, and it was not long enough before you finally let go to the delicious sensation of the orgasm, his fingers still inside you, helping you ride out the sensation 'till the very last wave
"you said you'd do whatever i wanted if i let you cum, right, bunny?" you nodded, still catching your breath, but his lust-filled tone was already enough to make you as horny as you were before cumming "then come here and suck me off like the good little slut you are"
he was quick to strip off his clothes, and you looked attentively as he took each piece of clothing, his hard cock bobbing up against his stomach as he sat down with his back pressed against the headboard
you got on all fours, quickly taking his thick length on your hands, stroking lightly before finally wrapping your lips around him, earning a half moan half groan from the man
"f-fuck, princess... such a good fucking mouth" one of his hands gripped a handful of your hair
you bobbed your head against his length, feeling wetter and wetter as you tried your best to give him a good head, using your hands to stroke him whenever you had problems to fit him entirely inside your mouth. seungcheol was a moaning mess under you, his hips jerking against your face and the grip on your hair like iron
but suddenly, he removed his dick from your mouth, using your hair to do so, and flipped you over, pressing you against the mattress in a not-so-gentle motion. he was being rough but gentle at the same time, and you couldn't deny you were loving it
"such a good little slut, getting my cock all nice and wet... fuck, i'm so lucky you are mine, only mine" he growled, rubbing his tip all over your fold teasingly "i'm going to breed you, to fill you up with my cum and make sure you carry my babies, i am going to fuck you tonight until we're sure i've knocked you up" his words sent a wave of heat through your entire body, making you shiver in expectation, the thought of carrying his child becoming more and more tempting, driving you wild with desire
"p-please... breed me, cheol.... leave me all stuffed with your cum, please" you could only whine, pushing your hips backwards, trying to earn a bit more contact with his shaft, but seungcheol only growled in response, one of his hands moving from your hips to your hair, pressing you against the mattress even more as he buried himself inside your warm walls, the contact making you both moan loudly
he was just so big, you could feel his tip tease and caress your g-spot relentlessly, as he slammed into you with a nearly animalistic ferocity, groaning and dirty-talking to you all the time, but honestly, you were already too lost in pleasure to assimilate his words, being able to moan his name only
even though you were pressed against the mattress, you were still loud, so seungcheol flipped you over, turning you both to a missionary position, where he could swallow each one of your moans, not wanting to get expelled from the apartment you two had just bought
his hips slammed against yours even faster, as he kissed you and his hands roamed against your body, holding your hips, squeezing your thighs, squeezing your breasts, and teasing your nipples. the coil on your stomach was ready to snap again as he deliciously fucked you senseless
"f-fuck... breed me, cheol, please" you whined in a needy way, making him groan audibly
"you're so perfect like this, bunny, begging for me to breed you like the good wife you are, begging to be full of my cum" his lips found your neck, suckling more marks
"cheol... i-i can't hold it anymore, fuck....." you whined "i-i'm gonna cum!" you moaned
"then come for me, darling" he sped up the pace, moaning against your ear as he continued to fuck you senseless
you couldn't hold for long, but you knew he still needed to cum, so even after an intense orgasm, you let him continue to fuck you, his self-control long forgotten, specially as the new tightness of your pussy squeezing him was driving him even crazier
"you're going to take my cum very well, right? you'll need it a lot to grow our child, darling" fuck. the raspy, teasing tone was enough to make you wetter again, and you nodded, digging your nails on his broad shoulders as his thrusts started to get sloppier, signaling he was closer and closer to the edge
not long after, he shot his load inside you in a large quantity, slowly pulling out once he rode out the aftershocks of his also intense orgasm. he looked down at your swollen, fucked pussy, oozing out his load, and before he could even think, he felt the blood rush down to his cock once again, making him groan
seungcheol sat down again with his back pressed against the headboard, smirking knowingly as he saw how wet you were becoming to see his hard-on again
"princess, you're starting to leak out my cum.... how do you expect to have my babies if you keep doing this?" he chuckled "come here...." he beckoned you "i think it's about time i breed you again, just to make sure you'll get out of here throughly knocked up"
you understood his signal, and quickly straddled his lap, aligning his shaft with your wetness. he slid even better than the first time, his own sperm functioning as lube, you started to ride him slowly, picking up the pace gradually as you rolled your hips against his deliciously
the new position made it seem like he was even bigger, caressing your cervix in a way he had your eyes rolling, making you bounce on his cock like you never would do it again, while his mouth latched at one of your breasts again
suddenly, it all became too much again, and you were already crying out his name loudly, your hips losing pace as seungcheol's hands were the ones making the motion of bouncing you on his cock now, and before you could even warn him, your pussy became as tight as possible, gripping him like a vice
"fuck, bunny.... you'll kill me like this, that slutty pussy's suffocating my cock" he groaned, bouncing you even harder as he knew you were about to cum
you were so lost in pleasure and ecstasy, you gave all of you to continue bouncing on his cock until the coil finally snapped again, making you gush out the warm, transparent liquid of your cum
"f-fuck... did you just squirted, baby?" he groaned, shooting his load inside you once again "fucking hell, that was the sexiest thing i've ever seen" he moaned
...
after cleaning up (which he basically did all by himself, as you could barely walk, legs like jelly after such an intense session), you both laid on the bed, cuddling and thinking about the future
"i really hope you get pregnant, y/n. i can't wait to see a baby who look just like you or me running around this apartment" he was over the moon with just the thought alone, and that was the cutest, and also most attractive thing you've ever seen him do
"you're so cute, cheol" you laughed
"yeah, but two of me would definitely be even cuter, don't you agree, honey?" he booped your nose
"i agree, i agree 100%" you smooshed him, making you both giggle "i love you so much, my husband"
"i love you too, princess" he kissed you passionately "but i need to make sure you really are throughly bred" he flashed you a smirk, and that's where you were sure you still had a long night ahead
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onyxandemerald · 2 hours ago
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I don't think I'm educated enough in any of these spheres to have a real opinion on any of this as of now but. Reading things like this, my attention wants to move to studies that show that young children and a great handful of observed mammal and bird species, can display signs of empathy and sympathetic behaviors, iirc sometimes even before a concrete understanding of language emerges.
IME, I do remember explicitly my mother explaining to me, "now child, sometimes people will give you gifts you don't always love. you have to still pretend to be thankful and surprised and excited because it's really the thought that counts!"
And I remember at probably 4 years old, holding the discord in myself. If I am supposed to appreciate a gift of thought, shouldn't I expect there actually to be thought involved? Why should I appreciate that you wasted your time and money on something that will now only rot in a landfill? And as an adult now I'm setting increasingly high standards of non-consumption and anti-consumerism. The second prong is that a handmade gift of literally any caliber (skill is genuinely a total non-issue) takes immediate trump. Non-issue. But I do not want to be responsible for this silly adults' insecurity when their baby nephew hates that pink teddy bear. As a child it made me feel invisible and invalid. What I felt wasn't important, it was only about presentation. Even when my parents did try to explain carefully the social norms, the rule of thumb was also, "do as I say, no as I do." When I only managed to learn what scant social skills I had struggled to aquire through mirroring, so I hadn't received compassion, I never learned how to reflect compassion.
I also very much remember being 10-15 and my parents very much changed their tune into, "Oh you did the dishes? That's the bare minimum and you expect a reward?" So at no point am I disagreeing with the meat of this message; I've been on both sides.
Ik it's impossible for everyone to have the exact experience but with all these things in mind, I wonder what the take is on this.
I've been musing a bit on that one post that went around during the recent holiday season, to which someone added their family tradition of Present Practice. My god! Imagine actually telling kids what behavior is expected, instead of expecting them to intuit it and punish them when they get it wrong!!
Separate post because this topic is a little tangential to that, but I think it does a great job of unearthing one of our very well-hidden internal biases, which goes as follows:
Good people don't need to be taught.
A good person (in this case, a good child) shouldn't need to be told to be gracious and grateful when given a gift. A good child should just know that a holiday tradition of gift-giving is a social performance to strengthen family bonds and that personal preference or genuine reactions are secondary to that performance. A good child should just know how to value gifts, how to express thanks, how to praise and compliment. No caretakers in their lives should need to put any effort into instructing or modeling these things.
Good people should just know how to be good. If they were really Ontologically Good, their inherent goodness would simply intuitively guide them to correct behaviors. If they can't do that on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.
.
.
...Which all sounds very reasonable and obvious, and surely a mistake that only fundie christian families would make! Except that people in the social justice sphere also do this all the time. It's not anybody's job to educate you. You should know this already. If you were a Good Person, you wouldn't need to be taught. You would simply intuit the correct philosophies and gravitate to them according to your superior internal moral compass.
If you were a Good Person, you would already know that everything you were taught by your family and/or background was wrong. You should have rejected it already. You should have cut off your family, your heritage, everything about your childhood and upbringing that was Bad and Wrong. You should have known it was all a lie.
If you were a Good Person, you should be able to find the correct way yourself. You should be able to seek out the proper educational resources, and distinguish them from bad advice leading you astray, and make sense of them all according to your own internal moral code.
If you were a Good Person, you would have found your way by the proper, ascetic, official channels, not by reading a comic or watching anime. You shouldn't need entertainment or art to guide you. You should just know.
And if someone can't do these things on their own, in a vacuum, in the absence of cues, that's a sign of their inherent moral lack.
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aishi-toru · 2 days ago
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GOJO SATORU [ 五条悟 ] ⟡✦ mdni — p in v (afab!reader), unprotected saxophone, breeding, he's filthy n pathetic, cussing, baby trapping(??), not proofread, pet names, im ovulating forgive me !!
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even if he's never had one before, satoru believes that your body itself serves as an aphrodisiac—it has him so avid on the daily, he can't help the way his mind strays to, y'know... other things.
which is how you find yourself buried under his oversized frame, being pounded in missionary by the seemingly insatiable man.
"fuck- i'm sorry... so sorry, baby- i just have to cum inside," satoru whimpers so desperately it's pathetic, voice breaking and eyes saturated with tears from overstimulation; tears that you brought about.
you'd never think you could have the strongest in such a chokehold, but fate works in mysterious ways, it seems. it's not his fault, though! your pretty 'lil cunt just hugs and clenches around his dick sooo good, so tight, he just can't help it...
"it's okay, 'toru, give it all to me," you coo, your hand reaching out to caress his flushed cheek as you stare up to him—so lovingly, so sweetly, it has satoru orgasming in that very instant, letting out the most pornographic of moans.
his warm seed floods you as his angry tip kisses abuses your cervix, which is more than enough to have you gushing out literal buckets of cum.
his glowing, aquamarine eyes roll back as he feels your semen and his own envelope his cock, but oh... when they flicker down to where you and him are connected—not to mention, the white ring around the base of his dick—satoru goes feral.
his mind is then corrupted with thoughts of stuffing you so full of his seed, you can't even hold it all—the stream would drizzle down your thighs if you even tried to walk, which you wouldn't be able to by the time he'd be done with you.
without any warning, he starts thrusting back into you—mercilessly, vehemently, so good it was even mouth-watering. you can't hold suppress the whine that escapes you when the depraved man on top of you tells you just how fervent he is when it comes to you—with his hips, that is.
and now, he's imagining you claimed as his property—wearing his initials on a necklace instead of the snowflake pendant adorning your skin currently despite the fact that you bought it because it reminded you of him, the big fat diamond ring he'd propose to you with, and the huge streamline of gifts he'd be sure to give you.
he takes a mental note to tell you just how much he loves you, even though he's doing that already— he's just too lost in the sensation of you to be able to realise.
but, wait! it seems that satoru has forgotten that you and he are only friends with benefits... eh, it's whatever! he'll surely make you his someday, if not right now considering how he's repeatedly pushing his cum back into you.
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mononijikayu · 2 days ago
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araw – araw — gojo satoru.
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You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son." He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still. "He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are." Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."
GENRE: post hidden - post inventory arc (2010s)
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
WORD COUNT: 4.2k
NOTE: i wanted to write today because it's genmei (you)'s birthday. you in this story were born on january 10th, 1986 - a few years older than satoru!!! there's only a month distance between satoru, megumi, satoshi and your birthday - so the household is always fun like that. oh and the card, megumi and tsumiki wrote thank you mom on the card!!! please listen to this song a lot too, opm is really great!!! i hope you enjoy this a lot like i did. i love you so much!!! see you on the next one <3
masterlist
u s and t h e m
if you want to, tip! <3
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IT'S INTERESTING THAT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME HE COULDN’T FIND A GOOD PLAN. But it was true, this is the first conundrum he’s ever had to face in his life. Gojo Satoru doesn't think he's ever been good at not knowing how to do this before.
He's managed to face down curses that could obliterate cities, stood toe-to-toe with some of the most formidable foes in the world, and always come out on top. 
But he supposed that he will only ever be undone by you. Perhaps it was always the case ever since he’s met you. That was as inevitable as falling in love with you. Everything was going to be a challenge. And he loved that. Because he loved you. 
As he stands in the quiet of the early morning, he finds himself completely at a loss as he takes in the silence of the brightening dawn. He sighed tenderly as he found himself stopping his cerulean gaze right in front of him—you. 
You were still comfortably fast asleep, with soft breaths escaping your tender lips, you looked peaceful despite the exhaustion etched on your face. Just the way he likes it. Much more so nowadays, knowing how tired you’ve been. 
You were a new mother. And being a new mother, it was a lot of work. Even if you took turns taking care of the little treasure you brought into the world, Satoru knows that you work harder than he ever will.
He knows you stayed up all night keeping Satoshi asleep, cradling your son in your arms whenever he stirred.  And just as much, you also keep up to date with Megumi and Tsumiki, no matter what happens. 
Of course, he would tell you off so that you would continue on your bed rest or continue about taking as much time to heal as possible. But you couldn’t help it. This has been your entire life for almost half a decade.
You like being involved with everything. But Satoru worries, he always does. He can’t help it. He was just as much a father as he was a husband. You gave him everything that’s good in his life. And he means it. 
Yet now this leaves him in a conundrum.
How the hell could he top this gift of a lifetime?
How can he equate this gift on your birthday?
It was only a month ago, on his birthday, when you handed him the most precious gift in the world: your newborn son, Satoshi. The memory of that day is etched vividly in Gojo Satoru’s mind, a moment he revisits often, especially in the quiet hours of the night when the world is asleep, and it’s just the two of you and little Satoshi.
He remembers the soft glow of the hospital room, the way your bright eyes shimmered with a mix of exhaustion and pure joy as you gently cradled the tiny bundle of life, a life that both of you created, a life you had risked heaven and earth for, lay tenderly quiet in your arms.
Satoru had entered the room, his usual confident stride slightly hesitant, his light blue gaze locked onto you. The second his eyes met yours, he felt something shift deep within him—a kind of warmth he had never known before. One that he never thought he’d ever feel.
You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son."
He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still.
"He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are."
Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."
In that moment, Satoru realized what it truly meant to be loved and to love in return. Holding Satoshi close, he silently vowed to protect and cherish his family with every ounce of his being. That day, his life changed forever, not because of his immense power or the battles he fought, but because of the tiny life in his arms and the incredible person who had given it to him.
Now, as he watches you sleep, that memory fuels his determination to make your birthday just as unforgettable. You had given him the world, and now it was his turn to make sure you felt just as cherished, just as loved. But still, what could he do that could equate to that? What could ever be enough to make your birthday just as special?
Satoru could only sigh quietly, scratching the back of his head, as he gazed at you lovingly. How could he possibly top that devoted act of yours? How could he make your birthday as special as you made his?
His clear mind races with ideas, but none of them feel good enough. With a quiet determination, he stands up, stretching carefully to avoid waking you, his joints softly popping in the stillness of the room.
When he finishes, he tiptoes over to the crib where your little son, Satoshi, sleeps peacefully. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains casts a gentle glow over the room, highlighting the delicate features of the little one. 
Satoru leans down, a tender smile tugging at his lips as he watches the slow rise and fall of Satoshi’s tiny chest. His little hands are curled into fists, and his lips form a small pout as his little one continues to find himself in dreamland.
"Hey, little treasure of mine." Satoru whispers softly, brushing a finger gently across Satoshi’s cheek. "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that? And it’s all thanks to your amazing mom. You should be nicer to mom, okay? ‘specially today. It’s your mom’s birthday, after all."
A soft murmur releases from your son’s lips. Satoru couldn’t help but laugh silently. He could understand him, he supposed. Satoru will take his son’s hum as an answer. He stands there for a few moments longer, lost in the serenity of the moment.
The quiet hum of the house, the soft breaths of his sleeping son, and the comforting presence of you in the next room—all of it fills him with a profound sense of peace and gratitude.
Determined not to waste another moment, Satoru quietly steps out of the room. As he pads down the hallway, he hears the soft murmurs of Megumi and Tsumiki stirring their rooms.
A small smile plays on his lips as he finds himself leaning against the wall by their hall. A little while later, he could see Megumi and Tsumiki padding into their rooms, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
"Satoru–san?" Tsumiki whispers, her voice gentle as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. "Why are you up so early?"
"Yeah." Megumi adds, stifling a yawn as he steps into the room. "And why are you standing there like that? You look like you’re about to pick a fight with someone. It’s weird."
Satoru raises an eyebrow, feigning offense as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Hey, standing around waiting for my kids to wake up isn’t weird. It's dedication."
Tsumiki giggles softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Dedication to what, exactly?"
"To make sure we have the best start to the day, obviously!" Satoru replies with a playful grin. "Besides, today’s special, remember? It’s my wife’s birthday, and I need my secret weapons—aka you two—to help me make it perfect."
Megumi narrows his bluish–green eyes slightly, still skeptical. "Secret weapons, huh?"
"That’s right, you guys." Satoru says, ruffling Megumi's hair affectionately. "You two are crucial to this mission. So, what do you say? Ready to help make this the best birthday ever?"
Tsumiki and Megumi exchange a glance before nodding in unison, their sleepy expressions replaced by excitement. Though, excitement for Megumi is different than it was for Tsumiki. That’s just how his little ones were. Tsumiki giggles as she walks up to Satoru. Megumi hums, crossing his arms as he looks away. But from a corner, Satoru could see his little smile. 
"Okay, secret weapons reporting for duty!" Tsumiki says with a mock salute, making Satoru laugh.
"That’s the spirit!" he replies. "Now, let’s get to work before they wake up and catch us in the act."
Breakfast could be a start, of course. Satoru had all the intentions of making today special just for you. Together, they tiptoe to the wide expanse of the kitchen, careful not to wake you.
The early morning light filters softly through the pastel curtains, casting a warm glow on their little covert operation. Satoru takes the lead on the operations, whispering instructions like a seasoned chef conducting a top-secret mission.
"Alright, Megumi, you're on egg duty!" Satoru says, pointing to the carton of eggs on the counter. "Crack 'em like a pro."
Megumi steps up, carefully cracking an egg against the bowl’s edge. A small shell fragment falls in, and he quickly fishes it out, shooting Satoru with a determined look. "I got this."
"Careful with the eggs, Megumi." Satoru whispers with a grin, leaning in conspiratorially. "We don’t want to serve scrambled shells to your mother."
“Gen–san’s not my mom….” Megumi rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Satoru goes behind him and pats his head. Megumi could feel his ears turn red. "I know, I know. I’m not five anymore…..I’ll do well with Gen–san’s eggs."
Tsumiki giggles as she stands beside them, diligently stirring pancake batter. "You’re not much better, Gojo–san. You almost dropped the syrup a minute ago."
Satoru gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as he looks at Tsumiki with a mock look of hurt. "Hey, hey, this is a delicate operation. We’re dealing with high-stakes birthday breakfast here!"
He then drops the act and winks, making Tsumiki laugh softly and Megumi snicker. “Alright, alright. Let’s do well. You know how sharp their nose is. They’ll smell it from a mile away.”
As the pancakes continue to sizzle on the griddle, the kitchen fills with the comforting aroma of sweet batter and freshly cut blueberries he’s adding onto the pancake.
He smiles as he flips them. Soon enough, he took the eggs from Megumi and thanked him. Satoru starts cooking the eggs on a frying pan on the other side of the burners.  
Megumi soon grabs a plate and starts to put it near Satoru, who thanks him. Satoru expertly flips the pancake and continues with the scrambled eggs. Megumi takes a cup from the cabinet and takes it to the refrigerator, taking the milk and pouring it out onto the cup. He takes more and starts doing the same for the rest. 
Satoru starts to hum as he turns the stove off. He plates your pancake then for him and the kids, before adding the scrambled eggs too.
Tsumiki happily adds the final touches to the batter with a sprinkle of cinnamon, while Megumi meticulously slices strawberries and bananas with a butter knife and adds them directly onto the plates. Satoru thanks the two of them as he carefully puts away everything they used for him to wash in the sink later.
Once the food is ready, the three of them carefully arrange your own food on a tray. They’ll eat their own food later. The blueberry pancakes are stacked neatly, topped with fresh fruit and a dollop of whipped cream.
A small bouquet of a variety of wildflowers from the garden, that Megumi found outside sits in a tiny vase next to a handmade card that Tsumiki decorated with hearts, glitter, and a sweet message inside by the two an Satoru remained etched inside.
Satoru steps back, beaming at their creation. "Alright, team, we’ve outdone ourselves. Let's wake up to our birthday target."
Tsumiki giggles again, picking up the card with pride. "Gen–san’s going to love it."
With the tray balanced carefully in Satoru’s hands, they make their way back to your room, hearts full of excitement. Tsumiki tries to suppress her excited giggles as she holds her brother’s hand, following Satoru. This was just the beginning. Today, they’re determined to show you just how much you mean to them—one heartfelt, lovingly crafted breakfast first, before the rest.
They quietly enter the master bedroom, Satoru balancing the tray with exaggerated care. You slowly stir at the sound of footsteps, effortlessly blinking, still rather weary as they came to approach you with their own sorts of excitements on their faces. The sight of all three of them standing there, happily, which can only make your heart melt.
“Happy birthday!” They all cheer, their voices soft but filled with all tones of excitement.
Satoru places the tray in front of you, as you slowly sit up, looking at him. Your husband's cerulean eyes were twinkling as he looked at you and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “Good morning. Sorry for the sudden surprise here.”
“Surprise really is a word to use.” You mumbled at him, teasingly as you smiled at him. “It’s a lovely way to wake up.”
“We made you breakfast, and Megumi and Tsumiki made this beautiful card for you,” Satoru whispers softly, his voice filled with affection as he places the tray gently in front of you. He gestures toward the card, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Obvious by Megumi’s handwriting. Which, you know, could use some work—”
“Hey!” Megumi’s face flushes red, his features contorting in mock indignation. His glare shifts between Satoru and you, though the hint of a smile betrays his embarrassment.
You chuckle, reaching over to give Satoru’s hand a playful smack. “It’s lovely, Megumi. Don’t worry.” Your eyes soften as you glance at the card, the glittery hearts and thoughtful message warming your heart.
Satoru pouts dramatically, rubbing the back of his hand as if you’d truly hurt him. “You didn’t have to smack me so hard, you know?” he says, feigning sadness, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated sulk.
“Hm, sorry about that, my love.” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know.”
“Hey, we had to, babe.” Satoru whispers, his voice filled with quiet conviction as he meets your gaze. His smile widens, the warmth in his eyes making your heart flutter. “It’s such a special day, isn’t it? Celebrating the person who makes our little family whole.”
Tsumiki beams at your side, her hands clasped together. “We just wanted to make sure you felt as special as you make us feel every day.”
Megumi nods, a shy small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it’s not much, but we hope you like it.”
Your heart swells with love, and you urge them together. When they are together close to you, you pull them all into a warm embrace. “I love it. Thank you all so much. This is the best birthday ever.”
Satoru wraps his arms around the three of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You deserve the best, today and every day.”
You sit up, touched beyond words, and pull them all into a hug. “Thank you so much. This is the best birthday ever.”
Your beloved kisses the top of your head, his heart swelling with love. “No, thank you—for everything. We love you.”
Just as you all settle into the warmth of the moment, a soft, familiar cry echoes from the nearby crib. Satoshi's little voice rises, breaking the serene silence of the morning. Your husband Satoru chuckles, quickly pulling back slightly from the group hug.
"Looks like someone else wants to join our little celebration." he says, his bright blue eyes twinkling. 
You smile, beginning to rise, but Satoru gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got this, babe." he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "You relax and enjoy your breakfast."
Satoru turns to Tsumiki and Megumi. “Both of you too. Go and eat breakfast too. We might go out later, to have fun. So you should go and get some strength too.”
“Okay!” Tsumiki nodded and started to pull Megumi with her, who was telling her that he could walk without being dragged by her. But she didn’t listen to him. She just happily pulled him along. You shook your head and smiled, starting to eat your breakfast.
Satoru carefully strides over to the crib, his heart melting at the sight of Satoshi, his tiny fists waving in the air towards his father, his little face scrunched in a mix of confusion and need. Satoru carefully scoops him up, cradling him in his arms with as much gentleness as he could.
"Hey there, little treasure. Good morning.” Satoru murmurs softly, rocking him gently. "Did you miss out on the fun? Don’t worry, we saved the best part for you."
Satoshi’s cries quietly down as he snuggles into Satoru’s chest, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Satoru’s night shirt. Satoru slowly makes his way back into your bedroom and takes a moment to look at you, before he walks back to the bed, sitting down beside you, with Satoshi nestled in his arms.
"Look who decided to wake up to join the party, mama." he says, smiling as he hands the baby to you.
You cradle Satoshi, his soft coos filling the room as he gazes up at you with wide, curious blue eyes. He looks so much like your husband, when he’s waking up. It was all too cute.
“Good morning to you sweetheart.” you whisper, brushing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You wanted to join the birthday celebration, huh?”
“What do you want to do later?” Satoru asks, his voice light, though there’s an earnestness in his gaze. He watches you take a sip of milk, his bright blue eyes softening as they linger on you. “We gotta celebrate your birthday somehow—”
You pause, lowering the glass, and look up at him with a furrowed brow, a bit confused. “But we already are, aren’t we?” you reply, your voice warm with sincerity. “This is already an amazing celebration, Satoru.”
He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he gently shakes his head. “Babe, I know you’re happy with this, but I want you to have a great birthday. Something that feels just as special as you are to me. Just as special as when you gave me our Satoshi here.”
Your heart melts at the tenderness in his voice, but a tiny knot forms in your stomach. “Satoru, I just….” you start, placing the glass down carefully.
“This... this is more than enough. I’ve got you, the kids, and this beautiful morning. I couldn’t ask for anything more. This is as special as Satoshi’s birth to me.”
Satoru leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a quiet determination. “I know it’s enough, babe.” he says softly, almost like a promise. “But I want to give you the world. I want you to feel all the love and appreciation I have for you today.”
You can see the vulnerability in his bright blue eyes, that rare side of him that only comes out when it’s just the two of you, when the world around you fades away. Gojo Satoru is always so strong, so confident, but moments like this, when he’s giving you his whole heart— to show you just how deeply he cares.
You reach across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “You already do, every single day, my love.” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “I’m already the luckiest person in the world, just having this. Just being with you and the kids is everything I need for a great happy birthday. Nothing else matters but this.”
Satoru’s face softens, a smile finally reaching his eyes. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?” he murmurs, the words filled with meaning. 
Your chest swells with love, and you lean in to kiss him softly, a promise to share in this beautiful moment together. “Just as I’m lucky to have you with me. Every day.”
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epilogue
When the excitement of the morning passed you and Satoru spent the whole day with the kids, just playing board games and watching movies. But there was one little detail you couldn’t shake off: Satoru had been extra secretive. And the kids were too. Somehow, you didn’t know what to do about this. 
Satoru’s only secretive for three reasons — he wants to protect you, he wants to hide his sweet treat stash or he’s hiding something from you and that’s either him breaking something or your birthday present. The odds were always interestingly hard to know, when it comes to that. 
As the day went on, you couldn’t help but notice him acting a bit too casual, as if he was trying to hide something behind that trademark mischievously sly grin of his. You had a feeling. No, you knew.
Your husband had something planned. He has to have had something planned. As much as you do say you don't want to do much, you know your husband can be too eager to do something. Even if it's just presents. And knowing Gojo Satoru, it was probably something expensive, flashy, and completely unnecessary.
"Hey, ‘toru." you say, cornering him in the living room as he casually tosses a playful grin your way. “What’s this I hear about you getting me a gift?”
His eyes widen in mock surprise, though it’s clear he’s trying not to break into a full-on grin. “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything, like you told me to.” he says, feigning innocence with an exaggerated shrug. “Cause you know….I’m a good boy.”
“Don’t lie to me, Satoru.” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing as you give him your best ‘I know you’re up to something’ look. "I’ve seen that gleam in your eye before. You’re up to something ridiculous. Plus, Megumi blurted out something.”
Satoru chuckles, stepping closer to you with that playful swagger of his. “I don’t know what you mean, love of my life. Megumi could just be making it up too.” he says, winking.
"Uh, uh. You think our Megumi's the type to do that."
"I mean, it could happen, you know. Teens can be like that!"
"Satoru, he's not a teen yet."
"Yeah, but it still could happen." He points out to you, with a sly look. “Plus I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll love it. You deserve it, after all.”
“Aha! So you did get me a present!” You look at him and he smiles at you. He did not look guilty at all about outing himself. You shook your head at his reaction and then sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly.
"You didn’t spend a ton of money on it again, did you?”
Satoru’s grin falters just for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Well, maybe just a little… okay, a lot.” He pulls a small, shiny box from behind his back with all the dramatic flair of a magician revealing his final trick.
Your eyes widen. "Satoru, no. You promised no big gifts this time! You and I talked about this!"
He opens the box slowly, and inside is a… luxurious watch. The kind that could probably buy you an entire year's worth of groceries. You stare at it, the gold and sleek design shining under the light.
It was probably a one of a kind one too. Satoru never gave you presents that were something people can get in mass consumption. He always wants to make sure you only got the best from him. And he had too much money on him to care about it. Even when you nag at him about it.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t… You didn’t have to do this, Satoru. This is—”
“Absolutely perfect?” Satoru interrupts with a grin, obviously pleased with himself. “I thought you’d love it! It’s a little flashy, but hey, it’s your birthday, babe. You deserve to sparkle just as much as I do.”
You stare at him for a long moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Satoru, seriously. This is too much. We’ve talked about this… I don’t want you spending money like this on me."
He tilts his head, giving you that look, the one that says he’s not going to take no for an answer. “Babe, this is nothing compared to the actual present I was going to get you.”
You blink, your mind trying to catch up. “The what now?”
“Yeah.” He nods nonchalantly. “I was going to buy you an entire island, but I figured that might be a little over the top. You know, for your birthday and all.”
Your mouth hangs open for a second before you burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. “An island?! Seriously? Are you trying to bankrupt us? I know we have a lot of money, Satoru but this is—”
Satoru shrugs, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Hey, I was gonna throw in a private jet too, but… we can save that for next year, actually.”
You shake your head in disbelief but you found youself chuckling at his thoughts. You can't help but feel a rush of affection for him. “I’m going to make you return it.” you say, though you can’t quite mask the smile spreading across your face.
“You won’t.” he says, smirking. “I already wrote a very convincing love letter to the shop owner. And you. It’s done. You gotta accept it!”
You laugh again, rolling your eyes playfully at your husband. “You’re impossible, Satoru. But I love you anyway.”
“Good to know, babe. I love you too.” he says with a wink. “Because I’m keeping that watch, and you’re wearing it every day from now on. Let me spoil you at least, hm? That's your husband's job!”
As you take the watch from him, still shaking your head in disbelief, you know one thing for sure: You’ll never win this battle. You know you can’t. Not when he loves you most in the world.
But at least you’ve got the most ridiculous, over-the-top husband in the world for everyday of your mortal lives together who loves you the most in the world and somehow, that’s more than enough.
"You should have gotten me a Casio."
Satoru narrows his eyes at you. "Baby, I have the money. We are not getting you a Casio."
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carylmeanslove · 1 day ago
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Luke's Floral touch to their meal.
Nicola posted a story picture of a romantic birthday dinner for two from last night. This post of course is just speculation. There are loads of clues as to who's with her. The photo taker seems tall, her smile is so obvious a smile she does with a certain denim blue eyed gentleman, it's a freaking Italian restaurant, the cutlery placement. There is some who even see something in the reflective surfaces. I haven't tried looking that close to that one. I am confident it's Luke.
Anyways...I am going to analyze the flowers in this post, because Fran asked me too. So here you go Fran, love ya!
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I have looked on a site to see if there are vases on every table as a house decoration. There isn't a vase of flowers on every table, you can go look on TripAdvisor. So yeah, there is a vase of two medium sized bloomed roses here that Luke could have brought with them or most likely was asked to be added on his behalf when making the reservation. There is one yellow rose and the other a red rose. The red doesn't look very vibrate red, but I am taking lighting into account here. The low romantic lighting would lighten it.
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Yellow Roses
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As you can see it symbolizes the core of their relationship. They are each other's best friend. It makes sense that he would pick this bloom. It represents the core of their relationship. Where it started. The friend part of friends to lovers. That part never goes away. The rest is just added. This is just his way of representing the loyalty, devotion and care of their relationship. I also like to add a spouse is a relative. Not to mention also a symbol of happiness. Spot the perfect birthday gift part.
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Red Roses
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Now on to the lovers' part of their Friends to lovers' story. It is a clear, like their connection is clear to those of us who can understand it, of their love. The symbol of a deep, passionate, romantic love. They are classic expression of love, longing and desire. As well as respect, admiration and devotion.
Yep, it checks, because like their characters these two are also friends to lovers in real life. Reel to Real, indeed. Thanks for the bread crumb and another bit of a look at yours and Luke's beautiful life, Nicola. We love you both so much and we are so happy for you. Glad you had such a wonderful birthday.
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soapcloth · 3 hours ago
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CW: 18+ MDNI, price x scam caller!reader, cyber stalking - unedited - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
Can you imagine being in a rough place when a friend of a friend of a friend manages to rope you into scam calling?
And when your first target ever is John Price?
He knows something is up instantly. He knows you don’t work for a bank, not with the way your voice shakes and tumbles over your script- but he lets you think he believes you, lets you give him the runaround, even throws you one of the gift cards you’ve been told to ask for. It’s not too bad when he gets to listen to your cute voice for the duration of the call, guiding him through the steps.
Slowly and without your knowledge, he gathers information on you and the office you’re calling from- taps into your camera too. He watches you fuss and frown as he begins to mess up small tasks, then when you’re trying to get him back on track, he drops your full legal name.
The line falls silent.
“That’s you, isn’t it love?”
There’s a smile audible in his voice as you sputter with wide eyes, processing what’s happening.
“Don’t hang up-“ he orders and you comply, you can tell it wouldn’t end well if you did. “Not nice to scam old men, you hard on cash?”
You lower your voice so no one else in the room can hear. “Yes, sir.”
He’s grateful for your honesty, but he’d much rather hear a phrase like that while you’re bouncing on his lap.
“I don’t like being taken for a fool, but I’m a nice man.” His tone is self important. “Tell me- do you like this job? Do you feel good when you successfully scam other old folk?”
Through the webcam, you look about ready to cry as your head bows down into the cheap office cubicle. “S-sir, you- th-this was my first day.”
“-Shh, it’s okay love.” He coos “you’re not in trouble.”
You sniffle quietly.
“-But you do owe me back what you’ve taken. I’m not a man you steal from.”
You pale, he had sent you a pretty hefty amount- but it had already gone to the person running the operation. “I-I don’t- I can’t-“
“We can work something out.” He hums as his eyes flit over your home address on the screen in front of him, readjusting in his seat. “-Like I said, I’m a nice man. Now, go home and be good for me, have to send in some reports on your esteemed employer. I have your personal number, love. I’ll be in touch.”
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makeitmakesomesense · 1 day ago
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Starry Night
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Natasha Romanoff x Jealous!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Day 10: I've merged a very fun request from a lovely anon with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 10th of January, which is 'religion'.
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Your linked hands swung absentmindedly in the space between you. 
Natasha’s head tilted as she observed the painting.
After a moment, you felt her attention inevitably turn back to you. You tried to focus on the brushstrokes, the colours, something. At least this one wasn’t about religion.
‘What do you think?’ She prompted.
‘I like the stars.’ You said carefully.
Natasha’s lip twitched. 
‘That’s good. Given it’s A Starry Night.’ She rasped dryly.
You nodded, pretending to keep staring at the painting. Natasha brought your hand to her lips and held it there for a moment. 
Your focus turned readily  to her. It was much more enjoyable anyway, watching her look at the paintings.
‘What do you think?’ 
Natasha glanced back at you. Her eyes crinkled with a more hesitant smile.
‘I love it.’ She admitted. 
You leaned forward and kissed her cheek, ignoring the bustling crowds of tourists around you.
You stayed together, lost in the tiny moment, until a short woman elbowed her way in front of you to take a photo of the painting. 
Natasha’s eyes were full of mirth as she pulled you back to the centre of the room. Her arms snaked around your waist as she stood behind you. 
‘What do you want to look at next?’ She asked softly, her head resting on your shoulder.
You chewed your lip and tried to decide. The paintings all looked the same to you. 
This trip was already perfect without the art. It had been Natasha’s idea. A tentative gift for your one year anniversary. A long weekend spent in Paris. 
It was strange to live, for even the briefest of moments, as if you weren’t part of the Avengers team. Your life had become something unrecognisable in the time that you’d been part of it.
Now, here in Paris, you’d never seen Natasha so relaxed, so completely herself. 
The very first evening, she’d disappeared out of the apartment almost as soon as you’d set your luggage down. She’d returned within minutes, holding all the components for a charcuterie board and a bottle of ridiculously expensive wine.
You’d wanted to unpack and get organised after the long flight but Natasha had insisted that you join her on the balcony. You’d sat together for hours, sharing food and drink and staring out at a nighttime view that didn’t seem real.
You’d understood the magic then. Slow kisses that heated the chilled night air. The sparkling lights of the city reflected back in Natasha’s eyes.
Nothing in any gallery could beat that. 
‘You choose.’ You told Natasha, leaning back in her arms as you surveyed the gallery room. ‘I always like your choices best anyway.’
Natasha hummed to herself, trying to decide. You let yourself focus only on her. The constant thrum of people wandering around the room created an almost overwhelming level of background noise. 
At last, Natasha nodded over to another painting, one with two women watching each other in bed. 
You smiled before you could help it, remembering that morning. 
‘Okay.’ You agreed. 
Suddenly, you felt Natasha stiffen behind you. Then, after a moment, you felt her purposefully relax. You were immediately on high alert. You scanned the room with a new intention, trying your best to identify any threat. 
Your attention caught immediately on a woman across the room. Her stare was entirely focused on your girlfriend. 
‘Is everything okay?’ You asked tensely, staring at the woman whose focus refused to flicker from Natasha’s face. 
Natasha moved easily from behind you to by your side. She looked distracted but her smile was reassuring.  
‘Yes.’ She promised. ‘I know her. Let me go say hello.’
You watched her walk away from you over to the strange woman. The beautiful Parisian woman. The upsettingly beautiful Parisian woman. 
You watched Natasha kiss her cheeks and hug her. You watched their obvious delight at reconnecting. You watched the disgustingly beautiful Parisian woman reach up to touch a piece of Natasha’s hair, you watched her mouth form a comment about its new length and colour. You watched Natasha smile shyly. 
You felt small and then you felt angry. You felt an instinct lock your body in place.
It took a minute for Natasha to look over to you. She took a few steps back in your direction, not quite closing the distance. 
‘There’s this wine.’ She started, clearly excited. ‘I’ve been looking for it all weekend. Elodie knows this place that sells it. It’s right around the corner’
You kept your expression neutral. You hated that Elodie was obviously looking over at you. 
‘Do you mind if we-?’ Natasha trailed off, gesturing between herself and the woman who you were going to make a voodoo doll of later. 
You nodded, throat tight. 
Natasha kissed your cheek.
‘Stay, enjoy the art. I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.’ She promised, an excited glint in her eye. 
You watched Natasha’s hand brush Elodie’s back as they walked out together. 
When you were finally alone in a sea of strangers, you let the feelings wash over you in quick succession. 
Jealousy. Hurt. Anger. 
Your fingernails dug into your palm as the feelings simmered. 
Who the fuck was Elodie?
You walked blindly past the remaining masterpieces and headed for the exit.
Natasha caught a hold of you in the foyer. She looked startled to see you there. 
She nodded back to the endless gallery rooms and gave you a curious smile. 
‘Have you seen it all already?’ She teased lightly.
‘Mmhm’ You hummed tightly. ‘Let’s go back to the apartment.’
Your sharp tone set off the first alarm bells. You watched the realisation dawn on Natasha’s face, the slight widening of her eyes. 
You didn’t give her a chance to speak. You walked out the building and headed towards your apartment. 
Natasha kept pace at your side. You could feel her nervous glances towards you. Her hesitating indecision to say something. 
Something about your stony expression kept her quiet.
By the time you’d reached the apartment, after climbing the endless winding staircase inside the building’s courtyard, the unspoken tension was almost at a boiling point. 
Natasha’s tote bag clinked occasionally as her new purchase bumped against her keys. Your jaw tightened every time you heard it.
You opened the door and walked straight to the kitchenette. Natasha followed cautiously behind you.
It occurred to you then that you’d never had a proper fight before. Never had a reason to be really angry. More than a year had gone by in relative peace. 
Until Elodie. 
You opened the fridge door violently and pulled out the ingredients for lunch automatically. 
You could feel Natasha hovering in your blind spot. 
You hooked a dining chair with your foot and pulled it out from the table.
‘Sit.’ You directed tightly. ‘I’ll make us some lunch.’
Natasha sat with the obedience of a hostage victim. 
You arranged the jars of beurre de cacahuètes and confiture next to the wooden chopping board and placed the bread that Natasha had bought fresh that morning on top of it. You yanked open the cutlery drawer and retrieved the large bread knife.
You felt Natasha wince behind you. You ignored her as you started sawing at the bread.
‘So.’ You said loudly. ‘How do you know Elodie?’
Natasha’s hesitation this time was blatant.
‘Uh.’ You heard her stall for time. You sawed quickly through your first slice and tossed it onto the waiting plate. ‘From a long time ago.’
‘Mmhm.’ You hummed again, eyes trained on the moving knife. ‘And you knew each other well.’
You didn’t frame it as a question but Natasha answered anyway.
‘...Yes.’
‘Very well.’ You said under your breath, tossing another brutalised slice of bread onto the plate. 
‘...Yes.’ Natasha said with obvious alarm as you began to hack at the loaf again. 
‘Lucky Elodie.’ You muttered bitterly. ‘I bet you’ve got wonderful memories of Paris together. Did you drink that wine on a balcony with her? What sort of name is Elodie anyway? I mean that’s practically too French. I mean come on. It’s like a Russian girl being called-’
‘Natasha.’ Natasha supplied.
You kept moving your knife thoughtlessly. 
‘Exactly. Whatever.’ You cut yourself off into abrupt silence as you stewed internally on things you really shouldn’t say aloud.
‘Y/N.’ Natasha called out carefully.
‘What?’ You snapped.
‘Love. You’re sawing the chopping board in half.’ You froze and stared down at the small pile of sawdust mixing with the breadcrumbs. You yanked the knife abruptly out of the wooden board and placed it down on top of it. You stared for a long moment at the counter. You couldn’t escape the truth of it. The fear that ached behind everything.
‘Did you take her to see those paintings before?’ You asked at last in a small voice. ‘Before me?’
‘Love.’ Natasha said quietly again in a low voice that always made your insides go warm. You heard her move closer and felt her arms wrap around you, tentatively. You let your back press against her.
‘Before you.’ She murmured slowly, and you felt each word vibrate through you. ‘I know it’s not that simple. But before you nothing really mattered.’
Her lips touched your neck and you let your eyes close. You thought about her and you. About the 400 nights you’d spent together. About the sleepy mornings and the date nights and the future plans. 
You thought about the painting you’d seen of the two women watching each other in bed.
‘Before you.’ Natasha whispered again. ‘There was art and good food and fancy wine.’ Natasha’s hand trailed lightly down your front and the back up. Your head tilted back and Natasha dragged her finger along your exposed neck. 
You thought about the starry night reflected back to you in Natasha’s eyes. 
Your body shuddered as Natasha’s fingernails tapped gently over your trachea.
All you could hear were her soft breaths and your shallow ones.  ‘Before you. I wasn’t me.’
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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3
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biancadoes1 · 1 day ago
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this could be proven wrong, but I’m just going to say this ….
If JD was with Nic at that bday, he would have made a story of it.
If that bday was a group dinner, there would have been a story from everyone there especially JD.
Nic and JD did not spend NYE with one another. That is a holiday I would think couples spend together. Even if Nic had a work event, JD would have been there bc that is his pattern. There were not together.
JD has not instinct to be a gentleman to Nic. He is a friend but his first reaction is not to protect or wait for like a partner would - The WT premiere was telling on his part.
Nic went somewhere on vacay after Christmas- tan lines. And she does not tan easily so she was really relaxing. Plus, Nic did not post during those days. Even when hanging with JD , she always post. She Never relaxes- something about those days had her in a state of ease.
Luke liked and commented on her SAG nom. The man has not commented on her post since June or July. And he was met with love.
not all her friends commented or posted for her bday. It is usually your pals that will not see you that will post on your bday. A little tribute bc I can’t be with you. She was with JD for the premiere to celebrate the movie for him and her other friends. But so far, it does not appear she was with him on her bday. Another special night in her life.
Luke is missing!! He did not post her her bday- bc he does not have too. He sees her all the time. He buys her gifts. She loves that camera and I’m sure he bought her something.
luke is a grown man. He does not need attention as much as trolls so desperately want to believe for him.
that Bday is intimate. Dinner for two. Could it be Luke- yes, could be another man- maybe. But at this moment, not JD. Again, he would have let you know.
luke loves pasta. The man loves pasta. It’s seems like an intimate place that’s quiet and cute. Nic is down to earth, this seems like something she would love.
Luke doing a year end photo dump. The man has never done that- to my knowledge or I have read he hasn’t. Some could say, well he was the lead, but he was on bridgerton before this and no year end dump. To me, to me- it seems like he did this as a welcoming to the family of Nic’s friends group.
is Luke in the glassware- not sure on that. That seems far fetched but I’m not going to tell someone they are wrong. That’s not my place.
at a certain point, people have to stop thinking she is with JD bc he is everywhere. People thought this about me and my guy friend. We love each other deeply, but not attracted to one other. Stop thinking bc Jd is there, that is her man. When JD does not do any of the things a boyfriend does. Smile, laugh or any affection. Calling her sweet one is not a clue for romantic love. It’s a term of endearment. In fact, no man, in a relationship would probably use that phrase for his gf or wife. It’s oddly stated.
could I be wrong, yes, but just analyzing clues and keeping the delulu out - things do make sense. Still being rational points more in the direction that she is not with JD.
I love an organized anon who critically thinks.
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sossegato · 2 days ago
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"Using their abuse by society to spew violent rhetoric"
I'm tired of saying this but you fuckass gringos don't get it so I guess I'll keep at it indefinitely.
You clowns wouldn't dare say this about black people. You would not say the Black Panthers' "rhetoric" OR tactics was violent against white people.
And that would be correct.
But you say this of women.
Can you, oh reading-comprehesion gifted, presume why?
"But their rhetoric is being held up by conservative lawmakers"
Conservatives, believe it or not, have their very own ideas. And their so-called discriminatory laws are informed by their own ideology.
Not radical feminism's. Which they despise entirely, being pro-abortion, materialistic, anti-religion, anti-marriage, etc.
Conservatives don't even oppose gender identity for the same reason radfems do. Radfems seek the abolition of gender as a concept entirely. Conservatives seek to uphold it, much like the trans movement. "Oh, we see gender in opposite ways!" cool whatever, you both wanna keep that shit up.
The finger pointing away from me, etc.
"And that flows until you have transphobic ppl who aren't radical feminist parroting this stuff"
Again, it's not radical feminism they parroting.
Whoever's calling it that, be that them or you, is being as stupid as the gullible allow.
Now you wanna strawman that every woman who "calls the cops" on trans-identified men did so out of some incredible remote-conservative-supporting bigotry and not because the whole ass male was threatening her, by all means stuff that straw in.
Actual criminal data on both men and trans-identified men tell you otherwise, but you don't care, 'cause you, like the rest of the world wide, is more than comfortable putting the blame for everything on women, including and most importantly, the actual, real violence of men.
"girls face abuse by society at large and don't become violent misogynists like boys do"
Sis, terfs are right fucking there.
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mrsmangi · 1 day ago
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Hibiscus 🌺🌺🌺
late night call - luigi mangione
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♡ flower prompt: hibiscus - the realization of a friendship becoming something more - meaning: in victorian times, the gift of a hibiscus bloom meant that the giver was acknowledging the receiver’s delicate beauty. ♡ w.c.: 1k ♡ a/n: hi, love! thank you so much for your request. srry for the delay, i'm a bit backed up with requests. she's a short one, but i hope you enjoy!
♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested
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“Do you ever think people realize just how loud their ceiling fans are?” 
His voice comes through the phone, low and scratchy, like he’s been lying on his back for too long, staring at his own ceiling. You giggle softly, shifting against the pillow propped against your back. Your own fan spins above you, a rhythmic hum filling the space between his words and yours. 
“It’s white noise,” you say, quieter than usual. “After a while, you get used to it and stop hearing it.” 
“Mm, not tonight,” Luigi sighs. “It’s like the fan’s trying to keep me awake for as long as possible.”
You laugh again, a soft, breathy sound that feels just a bit too loud in the stillness of your room. It’s past midnight–long past the time you’d planned to be asleep–but this is how many of your nights with Luigi go. What starts with casual texts morphs into a phone call, then into hours of talking about nonsense; everything and nothing.
“Maybe it’s just your thoughts,” you tease. “What are the voices yelling at you about tonight?” 
He pauses on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of his breathing audible. You know Luigi well enough by now to know he’s not actively ignoring your question; he’s only deciding how much of himself to give away. 
“Life,” he answers lamely, though the vagueness of the reply altogether makes it clear there’s more to it than that. “Do you ever feel like no matter how much you do to succeed, it’s never enough?” 
You roll onto your side, pressing the phone closer to your ear. The dim glow of your bedside lamp casts uneven shadows against the wall. 
“All the time,” you reply honestly. “It gets exhausting, though. I feel like I’m just running a race no one even cares to watch.” 
He exhales, a sound that crackles through the receiver. When he speaks again, his voice carries the kind of understanding that comes from being seen. “Yeah. I get it.” 
The two of you fall into shared silence, the steady hum of your ceiling fan whispering across the line. You let yourself picture him for a moment–probably sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes. His phone would be balanced in his other hand. The image feels familiar, like something you’ve seen a thousand times before, even though you haven’t. 
“Can I ask you something?” His voice breaks the quiet.
“Always.” 
He’s quiet again, but you don’t rush him.
“Do you think…” He pauses again, and you can hear the shift of his breathing. “Do you ever think it’s possible for something to change without either person realizing it? Like, to wake up one day and feel like everything’s changed, even though nothing is actually different?” 
“Maybe,” you say cautiously, voice softer now. “Sometimes things can change so slowly you don’t even notice until it’s already different. Then, you find yourself wondering how long it’s been that way.” 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s exactly what I mean.” 
You stare up at the spinning fan, asking him, “What’s different, Luigi?” 
He doesn’t answer right away. His continuous pauses make you grow somewhat uneasy, stretching a distance between you. “Us,” he says. “I think we’re different.” 
You exhale slowly. “Different how?” 
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But it’s like every time we talk, it feels different. More important, somehow, like there’s something there that wasn’t before.” He stops and you can nearly hear the way he’s turning the words over rin his head. “I used to just…enjoy talking to you, but now, it feels like I catch myself waiting for it. I’m counting down to the next time I’ll hear your voice. And when we’re not talking, I’m thinking about what I want to tell you the next time I see you, or wondering what you’re doing, or–” He breaks out into nervous laughter, cutting himself off. “Um, does any of that make sense or am I just rambling?” 
It makes perfect sense. Too much sense. Your heart picks up speed, the weight of his words pressing against the thoughts you’ve tried to push to the back of your mind. You notice it too. You’ve felt a change in the way you catch yourself thinking about him at odd moments–when a song reminds you of something he’s said, or when you replay the voice messages he sends just to hear his laugh on repeat. Tonight, he speaks heavier, like he’s cracked open a door you have both been staring at for weeks, maybe longer, unsure of who will turn the handle first. 
“It does,” you whisper. 
There’s a small, nearly imperceptible breath on his end, like he’s been holding it and didn’t even realize. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip, letting the word sink in. “I didn’t know if I should say anything. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.” 
“Me neither,” he says, “but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it. I do. All the time.” 
You close your eyes, the glow of the lamp behind your lids is a soft orange hue. “So, what now?” 
“I’m not sure,” he says. There’s no pretense, no cleverness to soften the edges of his words. “But maybe we can figure it out. Together.” He says his last word carefully, almost like it’s fragile–like it may break under the weight of its meaning if he doesn’t say it the right way. 
You hear him shift, the faint sound of fabric rustling through the receiver. It’s a small thing, but it makes the moment feel so real, tangible, like he’s not just a voice in the dark. You let his words settle over you. Luigi doesn’t have the answers to all your worries and neither do you. But, it feels comforting somehow–to know that he’s with you in this journey, and you with him. 
“Okay,” you say. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You know he can hear it, even if he can’t see it. Your heart is full of love for this boy as you exhale: “Together.”
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 days ago
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Diavolo: Barbatos?
Barbatos: Yes, young master?
Diavolo: ...
Diavolo: Are those—
Barbatos: Yes, MC decided to return the gifts I had given them.
Diavolo: ...
Diavolo: Barbatos, are you disappointed?
Barbatos: ...
Barbatos: *smiles* Of course not, young master.
Barbatos: It is reasonable for them to distance themselves from anything linked to me. After all, most people would prefer to avoid reminders of a past relationship.
Diavolo: You are right. Anyway, I hope MC uses this vacation as an opportunity to recover completely.
Barbatos: I hope so too.
Diavolo: ...
Solomon: Hey, why weren't you answering my calls?
MC: Sorry, I didn't know my phone was ringing.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: Did you eat yet?
MC: I had breakfast.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: MC, it's already dinnertime.
MC: Is it? That's weird... I don't feel hungry.
Solomon: *sigh* Are you skipping meals?
MC: No... Let me just grab a quick bite— Oh.
Solomon: What's wrong?
MC: *staring at the fridge filled with dishes they made but forgot to eat, left there to be eaten later when they felt hungry*
MC: ...
MC: It's nothing.
Solomon: ...
Solomon: Are you sure you're fine alone?
MC: Yes. Don't worry.
MC: *sitting on their bed, hugging their knees with their head resting gently on top*
MC: ...
MC: I should cook something...
MC: And send them to Beel...
MC: But not too much or Lucifer will scold me... *their eyes closing*
MC: ...
Simeon: Solomon?
Solomon: *extremely worried* MC hasn't picked up their phone for days now.
Simeon: ...
Simeon: I'll go with you.
Solomon: Thank you— *then hear the familiar notification from his D.D.D*
Solomon: *immediately checks it to see that it's a message from MC*
'Sorry, Solomon. I fell asleep. — MC'
Solomon: Who falls asleep like that for days?! You're not Belphegor!
Simeon: ...
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strwberri-milk · 7 hours ago
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Hiii I love your work 🥺♡ can I request reader comforting LADS boys over their insecurities? Since we're always the one being comforted, I think they deserve some love as well 😌♡✨️
its slightly adjusted, just a little for me to like. make it fit better for them lol
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Zayne struggles with feeling good enough for you. He doesn't ever voice it but he hears the way other people talk about their partners and wonders if that's how you feel about him. He worries that he isn't around enough for you, that his genuine desire to help every patient that comes into his unit giving him incredibly long hours. Then, by the time he gets home he's exhausted and unable to give you the attention you deserve.
You watch him puzzle over his schedule, a deep furrow in his brows as he tries his best to figure out how to balance these two priorities in his life. It's normal for him to try and figure out the schedule best so you can spend time together but this is the first time you hear him muttering about not being good enough for you.
Before he can continue his quiet ramblings you throw your arms over his shoulders, hugging him tightly from behind. He's surprised you're there and even more surprised when you tell him that you heard him talking to himself. He sits quietly, taking in your words as you comfort him. You remind him that you love him, that everything he does makes you fall in love with him more and more. He likes being told directly these affections, making it easier for him to accept your love.
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Xavier knows he's not the most emotive and he worries that you don't know how much he loves you. He shows it to you through gifts, buying you little things or through acts of service and cooking meals for you - well, trying to.
You've never doubted his love for you because you've learned all the quiet ways he does so. You adore him and know he does you. You've never told him so in so many words, thinking that he already knows you know. However, you can tell that something is off when his affectionate patterns seem to increase tenfold.
You get the sense that he's overcompensating for something, asking him if something's wrong. He doesn't want to say anything directly to you, a little embarrassed by his inability to cook you proper meals. When he tells you what's wrong you laugh a little, holding his hands and reassuring him that you know he loves you. You don't mind his quiet way of loving you, knowing that it's comforting to have something so gentle to come home to.
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Rafayel is always worried about being forgotten, something you know well because of how much he talks about it. He thinks he's being subtle but that's because to him, he doesn't tell you often enough how desperate he is for him to remain in your memory indefinitely. The thought of you forgetting him, even just for a moment makes him want to curl up in a ball and die.
The only way for you to reassure him would be by holding him tightly, gently running your fingers through his hair. You let him rest his face in your neck, mutter whatever it is he wants to about you forgetting him and abandoning him. You let him get whatever it is he needs to get off his chest, then comfort him through your words.
You reassure him that you would never forget him willingly, that you think about him all the time. He occupies your every thought. You're obsessed with him, and you show him so by showing him all the photos you have of him, of his art, tell him that you constantly re-read the texts he sends you because you like to remember that he loves you just as much. He needs this closeness often, and that's the only way he can cope with his feelings of abandonment.
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Sylus thinks you don't know that he does indeed love you. The two of you tease each other and he likes to mess with you sometimes. He's not good with his words, not really able to verbalise "I love you" without tripping over the simple syllables. It's something he's trying to work on but can't quite comprehend, finding himself growing frustrated from his repeated failures.
You overhear the twins teasing him about not being able to say "I love you", Sylus simply ignoring them both because he's got far too much work to do to really worry about it. He doesn't know that you're listening in, quietly shooing them off so you can speak to him personally.
You tease him just a little bit at first, amused that somehow, he's been so obvious about worrying about this shortcoming that the twins caught on. He doesn't really blush, but you can sense that he is a little flustered with the extra line between his furrowed brows and the way he pretends he doesn't hear what you're saying to him. Soon enough though you climb into his lap, holding him tightly as you reassure him that you know he loves you and you've never doubted it for a second.
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iminjomama · 2 days ago
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ohh my heart. this is so beautiful and like. ur a genius oh my god i actually cried THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL!! i love them so much thank you universe for gifting me sherlock and co oh my god this conversation makes my heart ache oh sherlock thank you!!! world for gifting me the sherlock ever
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THE GLORIA SCOTT - part 2, and a follow up to my comic for the first half of this scene! thanks sm to @crashingmeteorz for allowing me to source validation for my whimsical cosmic approach to this moment <3
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