#sorry for the grammar in advance

[dnfity]

HAPPY THANKSIGIVING AMERICANS RAHHHH. i wrote this inspired by this beautiful sappy post.

-

Dream takes George to his parent’s house for Thanksgiving. Two years ago, it was Christmas. A lot has changed since then. (sorry for the melancholy feeling idk where that came from)

[joblrcensus]

it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌

before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3

so buckle up and let’s get into it

general questions

Which continent are you from?

Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.

Which country are you from? (optional)

With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)

Drumrolls 🥁…..

Finland - 29

UK & USA - 15

Germany - 11

Poland - 9

Italy - 8

Australia - 7

Sweden - 6

Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5

Croatia, Slovenia - 4

Czechia, France, Romania - 3

Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2

Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1

How old are you?

45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.

Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?

Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈

Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no

tumblr activity questions

How do you participate on JOblr?

a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters

Do you post any of the following?

It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶

Do you also post about Käärijä?

Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much

50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom

joker out questions

How did you find out about Joker Out?

Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:

finding out about JO through Käärijä

through a music blog review

on slovenian radio

Who from the current members is your favorite?

One of the hardest questions but it had to be done

So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:

Bojan - 69 votes

Jan - 42 votes

Kris - 40 votes

Nace - 35 votes

Jure - 17 votes

Have you been to a Joker Out concert?

I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹

If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?

Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple

If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?

Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.

Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?

Drumrolls again 🥁…….

BoJere - 58 votes

BoKris - 57 votes

Jance - 56 votes

The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:

BoMartin

Jan/Jure

Kris/Jure

Nace/Kris

Nace/Jere

poly!JO

aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!

[genimas]

How I think changes are represented regarding team RWBY, JNPR, STRQ

Fair warning: This post is loooong

Team RWBY- Outfit's colour pallets

Volume 2 outfits won't be in here cause I think that's a whole different problem

Ruby Rose

-Beacon Arc: Red and Black, this is the start, nothing much to say

-Mistral Arc- Atlas Arc: Add white, her mother colour, this may be because she start to follow her footsteps, do what her mother did, because she believes her mother is the perfect Huntress she needs to becomes

-Prediction: In Volume 10 she will have less white?

Weiss Schnee

-Beacon Arc- The Schnee's colour is white- it represents snow, ice, cold- and her outfit has cold blue, she got away from the coldness of her family, the ice is slowly melt

-Volume 4-5: The blue is now dominate the white, I also think this blue is...bluer than the Beacon Arc's blue, the impact her friends had left on her is so strong the ice still continue to melt even when she's back home even though it's dull and lifeless but BUT

-Volume 6: I never notice this detail until I started to think about all of this. The RED scalf, she didn't have it in Vol.4-5 because she was at home, she was under Jaques' thump again Whitley is too every time we see him he still not refuse Jaquess no red no RED on him. At the start of Vol.6 she's backs with her friends, her teammates HER FAMILY. Wow that made me kinda emotional, anyway enough rambling

-Atlas Arc: Even if she's back 'house' she's still with her real family so she still has that red on her and the blue now is more like ocean too

Blake Belladonna

-Beacon Arc: White, black and a hint of purple. At this point in time her dominant colour is black because she still in her 'From Shadow' phase *wink wink*

-Mistral Arc: This is a, kinda, special situation. Noticeably, Blake adds purple- her Aura colour- to the outfit, still not sure what this means though. But that not all, before Blake had the black to cover the white part of her outfit, but now it's the opposite, you can say she is wrapped in purity.

-Atlas Arc: Another thing to consider is the black on her outfit slowly shift into dark purple/violet-> she slowly step out of the shadow and become her real self. So the black-ish/purple-ish, maybe the black is the White Fang and after Blake's arc in Vol.4-5 it now wraps around her with the white?

Yang Xiao Long

-Beacon Arc: This is a bit hard; Yang colours, as this post points out, are brassy yellow (most likely her hair), orche, brown and black. Here's the problem, her palette doesn't change at all except in Vol.4

-Volume 4: She still has all the colour but is wrapped in grey (Mercury's colour, maybe) and if I'm right, gold can be dissolved by mercury, so that's how her defeated state is represent. Note: when she gets back on her feets, the jacket is gone

-Volume 5- Atlas Arc: The only thing I can say about her changes is that she's no longer the thrill seeker she was at Beacon and has more practical outfit choice

Team JNPR- Weapons

Jaune Arc

-Beacon Arc: Crocea Mors-The hand down weapon of his family, as he's trying to become the warior like those before him

-Mistral Arc: The shield+Pyrrha's crown thingy. The weapon is now more him, and it represent his growth at Beacon but consider himself unimportant

-Volume 7-8: Atlas upgrade. Less that destructive 'I'm not important' thought, more mature as a fight and a leader

-Volume 9: 3 words- the Ever After (and maybe also V8 final)

Pyrrha Nikos

Miló and Akoúo̱

Nora Valkyrie

-Pre-RWBY: A wooden hammer

-Beacon Arc- Atlas Arc: Magnhild-She is no longer that scared little girl back at S but a bubbly enthusiastic pink lightning 'still little' girl but with low self-esteem problem. Interestingly, no Atlas upgrade cuz her arc, changes, growth happen in V8 so

-Prediction: weapon upgrade for Nora in V10

Lie Ren

Pre-RWBY: His father dagger

Beacon Arc-Mistral: StormFlower-No longer the boy who stand by, he now actively helping people but also have problem with suppressing his feeling

Atlas Arc: Atlas upgrade. Ren has changed after his arc in V5, learn to express his emotion more yay [V9 Epilogue] and now he's one who try to keep the team together, good for him

Team STRQ- Outfit

Now is the part where I speculate the most

When we heard story about Summer and every time Ruby remebered her, she wears [pic.1] but when the tree showed Ruby the real Summer that is not perfect she wears [pic.2]

Qrow tried to be better in V7 and to signify that growth, he got outfit upgrade

Tai and Raven hadn't have their outfit changed, but those are what we saw throughout the course of the show

✨Speculation time✨ this kinda stupid so take this with a grain of salt someone pointed put that Raven's arm guards are similar to Summer's, so what if at Beacon one of them had a significant growth and that was a gift from the other *shrug*. Qrow's old outfit had a similar neck to that of Taiyang👀 no one else like that, maybe(?). I think those who changed are more likely the Branwens, yeah

[diamantdog]

instagram keeps suggesting me posts/videos about louis tomlinson bringing his TV to Glastonbury to watch the England vs. Slovakia match, and i'm, like, "wow, this would've been all over tumblr a decade ago." 👵

[larcenywrites]

Never apologize for not feeling up to writing. I love your interactions with your readers. The asks and your replies get me through my work night by giving me something else to focus on.

I hope you get feeling better soon for your own sake. ❤️❤️

It’s been so frustrating not feeling the want or ability to write for so long now :( and having such horrible brain fog. Because I mean, I do want to, but it’s been so hard focusing and I just haven’t been feeling that spark I always used to have when writing :( you know, I actually haven’t read those superior iron man comics my friend got me a few months ago (I believe it’s every volume?) so maybe exposing myself to more content again will also help tbh!

In slightly random news, I have enjoyed writing in a general sense more lately. I’ve changed my degree from finance (horrible major btw) to writing and publication and have had fun so far! Though it’s still pretty hard and a ton of work, at least I have been writing in general and have (mostly) enjoyed doing it! And also, I literally hadn’t read anything (aside from textbooks) in literal years??? And reading for my composition class has been fun and all, but I recently found a 128 year old copy of St. Elmo and have enjoyed it!! I haven’t enjoyed reading in years 😭

[raynavan]

Ok so, turns out this “princess Mononoke” Submas au was a bit big for a single post (and also I can not do all of this in one day) so I’m only going over the beginning of this story.

Dw if you know nothing about princess Mononoke or have never watched the movie. I’ll fill all that in (to the best of my ability) as necessary.

This is not a fic, and I would not have the energy or time to make this a fic, but I will be treating this a bit like… a campfire story. 

(I am shamelessly stealing this from @/coramatus sorry not sorry love the way you tell stories)

Oh and, I hate that I have to say this, BLANK SHIPPERS DNI yes I’m aware the two characters that are Ingo and Emmet in this au like each other. This is not the case in this story, they are brothers. Please go somewhere else. Thank you. 

Alright so, part one here we go:

Emmet and Ingo live in a small town in the east. There aren’t many people living there and everyone knows everyone. Ingo and Emmet usually are the ones on watch, or leave the town to get goods from other places far off, because they have a particularly large Pokémon team. 

See, while the town is known for taking care of Pokémon and respecting them, not many train their pokemon (or having Pokémon willing to) to such a strength. Mostly, the important thing to note is that they love their partners dearly. 

They carved pokeballs out of stone and wood to keep their partners safe when they go out. The Pokémon enjoyed it as it meant they could be right by their partners side even as they slept.

Ingo was out on an expedition, one that was supposed to only take him a few days. When a week goes by, people begin to worry. 

Emmet had been patrolling the forest's edge, being careful not to enter the forest itself, for over a month looking for him. His partners were tough, but the larger portion of their team had gone out with Ingo, and he did not wish to take any risks. 

It is during one of these patrols that he spots a shadow shifting behind the trees, and huge creeks of straining wood as trees fall down in a straight path. Immediately Emmet springs to his feet and runs to warn the rest of town, as whatever is knocking down the forest is heading straight to the village.

As he glances behind him, though, he spots a horrible mass of pitch black tendrils leaping out of the forest and killing the fields of grain. He can’t even see the things face behind the black- just two bright red eyes. 

As the beast just keeps up with him, Emmet realizes that the town wouldn’t even have time to prepare if he did warn them, so he sends out Eelektross and calls out to use thunder- a devastating attack that… doesn’t really do much but stumble the strange thing from the woods. 

Emmet comes to realize that this must be one of the forest gods, as they are some of the most powerful Pokémon known, and that only they could have shrugged off that kind of attack. Emmet shouts at the god to please not attack the village, but the god does not listen.

It does stop to properly face Emmet, however, bemoaning about the human race, and how destructive and cruel they are. How they deserve nothing but distraction and pain, if they were filled with such greed. 

Emmet asks what the god means, but it isn’t listening, only screaming out and firing a tendril at Emmet that he is too slow to dodge.

“You shall feel my hate! You shall be consumed with it!” 

The tendril wraps around his arm in burning pain, leaving behind deep marks on his skin. Emmet's Pokémon react, shooting attack after attack at the god, only managing to knock off some of the black mass covering its body. 

It starts towards the village again, where people are scrambling to get out, but just as it is beginning to enter its proper, a shadow ball hits its side, making it buckle. 

Emmet looks up and sees Ingo’s ace, Chandelure, screech at the god, covering it with flames. Five others come out and help, beating back the god with over double the firepower. 

They knock off just enough of the black tendrils that Emmet is able to see glints of a gold crown and a gray body. Yet it does not go down. It stands tall a screams out once more-

“YOU SHALL FEEL MY HATE!”

And disappears into the shadows. 

-

Emmet's arm aches as Elesa pours fresh water over it, and the skin hissed like a hot pan in water. The people are worried about a curse possibly befalling the village, but mostly they worry for Emmet and Ingo, who has still not returned and is now without his Pokémon. 

Drayden, the oldest and wisest of All of them, says that Emmet has been cursed with something he cannot mend. The magic is too old and powerful for him to do much, but in the east there is another god that could heal him. 

The god of creation, arceus. 

It has not been seen by them for a long, long time. But if this curse is not healed then it would seep into his bones and kill him from the inside out, while his hatred grows. 

Emmet agrees to go, both to hopefully find a cure, but to also look for his brother. With a hug and a sack of food and tools, Emmet sets off to the west. 

Perhaps, just maybe, he would be able to find out what had made that god so angry as well.

[griponthenews]

no because that meme of someone watching a streamer play their favourite game but they misunderstand it horrendously. That’s literally me with Not for Broadcast. I have yet to see a streamer play it and use like their actual brain and critical thinking skills when choosing whether to side with Advance vs Disrupt. Like the point of the game is nuance and the grey morality of both sides but these people will just assume everything Advance do is bad while supporting Disrupt without questioning any of their actions because Advance are the government and therefore automatically pure evil? Say what you will about Julia’s government, but early game Advance genuinely have some stellar policies. But every streamer I’ve seen play this game always goes fully pro-Disrupt as soon as they have the option to do so, without considering the actual good things Advance are doing at that point, like the Menu Centres or the Assets and Wealth Act. I’m not forgetting about their inexcusable actions later on in the game (if you’ve played it then you’ll know what I’m talking about), but even then that was mainly Julia’s decision rather than Advance’s (can’t remember which ending it is but there’s that tape where Peter is very clearly against what Julia did). Arguably the best epilogue of the game happens when the public is in favour of Advance over Disrupt. But because typically in dystopian fiction the rebel faction is the morally better choice I guess people assume Disrupt must be too? Despite all this the most annoyed I’ve ever been watching someone play this game was when at the end the guy said (in a roundabout way of complimenting her I guess??) that Megan’s actor did a good job at making you hate her. How someone can come out of this game hating MEGAN WOLFE of all characters is beyond me.

sorry for how incoherent and badly formatted this post is I just have to rant about Not for Broadcast or I’ll explode.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSURPRISE PARTY TOUR: CHICAGO DISS TRACK * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where at the Chicago show of the Surprise Party Tour, Chris is not only surprised by the diss track made by his brothers against him, but especially by his girlfriend being part of it.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I'm not a song writer by no means, so I apologize in advance if Y/N's part of the song sucks 😭✋🏻

A/N³: Stream LIKE ME right now!

The orange glow of the stage lights bathed everything in warmth, catching little glints in the shelves to the left of the stage, bouncing off the glossy top of the coffee table sitting between the two orange couches.

Y/N, standing just off-stage behind the curtain with the crew, had that weird ache in her chest she always got right before the surprise segment. She could practically feel the excitement coming from the fans, like static electricity tingling across her skin.

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too hard. She already knew what the surprise was. I mean, how couldn’t she? She was in it.

She leaned forward a little, peeking past the thick curtain, watching the boys from her hidden little corner.

Nick was lounging - well, more like bouncing - in his seat on the left couch, leg jittering, fingers tapping on the cushion, clearly vibrating with excitement. Matt and Chris were sharing the right couch, the former sitting up straight with a smile. Chris, meanwhile, was leaned back with one arm stretched along the back of the couch, his head tilted in curiosity, eyes glued to the giant screen in front of them.

And then, it started.

The big screen flicked to life with a massive countdown in bold white numbers against a glitching screen.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

Everyone in the theater screamed. It was instant.

Echoing. Like someone had thrown gasoline on a fire and let it explode.

Y/N laughed under her breath, clutching her jacket at the chest. She swore her heart jumped with that countdown. It always did.

The screen flickered, and there they were.

Matt and Nick. Edited to be side by side, both in suits and ties, serious expressions. Nick was adjusting his already-too-tight tie, and Matt was patting down his shirt collar, eyes locked with the camera lens.

The crowd absolutely lost it.

Nick leapt up from his couch like someone had shocked him and started doing these little bouncy jumps toward Matt, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. His feet barely touched the ground, boots thudding heavily against the stage floor.

"Oh, Nick." Y/N whispered to herself, soft smile decorating her face, watching Nick’s expression explode into a wide grin as he reached Matt and wrapped him up in a huge hug.

Matt hugged him back with one arm and held the mic to his mouth with the other.

"I’m so excited."

Nick pulled back from the hug, mic now in his hand.

"We've been talking about this all day." He said, turning to the audience. "And I'm so excited that we're about to show this to you guys. I feel like me and Matt don't have many duo moments, right?"

The theater roared with approval, stomping and clapping and shrieking. Chris raised an eyebrow from the right couch, side-eyeing them both with an amused but skeptical expression.

"Oh, here we go." He muttered into his mic, finally standing up.

Y/N bit her lip, stifling her laugh as Chris casually strolled over to the left couch Nick had just vacated, flopping onto it in one fluid motion, stretching out like he owned the place. Which, well, he kind of did.

"Alright, I’m curious." He said, grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it. "I’m suspicious, but I’m curious."

Nick, still standing, grinned mischievously, and held up a single finger.

"Okay." He started, pacing a little as he spoke. "Before we play this video, I know you’re excited. I know you’re screaming. I know you’re probably on the edge of your seat."

People in the front row giggled, phones held up and already recording.

"But this surprise?" Nick continued, voice dropping dramatically. "It’s a little dramatic. It’s a little drama. And it’s gonna be amazing. But I need y’all to listen while you watch it. ‘Cause we only get to watch this once, alright? And I want to make sure that you have the best experience watching it. So, be excited, laugh, but listen, and let's get into it."

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Matt gave Nick a quick shoulder bump before the two of them made their way back to the right couch, both of them trying to suppress the stupid, excited grins tugging at their mouths.

Y/N clutched her chest.

The screen flickered again.

And the video began.

Matt and Nick sat on the edge of Matt's bed, both in crisp white long sleeves, shoulders brushing, Matt with his backward baby pink cap on.

"Me and Matt have some major plans today." Video-Nick said, not even waiting a single second to properly greet the camera. "And it all kinda involves shitting on Chris... Basically, Chris hasn’t done his fair share of shit on us, and going to the studio with his friends and making a diss track seemed just fair."

And that was when the place went feral.

People screamed. Hands flew over mouths.

On the right couch, Chris’s head whipped toward his brothers so fast it was a miracle he didn’t pull a muscle. His face was this perfect blend of betrayal and disbelief, pinkish lips parted in a dropped-jaw expression, blinking like he’d just been slapped.

And before he could even grab his mic to react verbally, Matt’s voice echoed again from the screen.

"Besides Chris’s friends, there’s gonna be another very important person in there with us to help create this diss track about Chris." He turned his head on the video to Nick beside him and added. "Also, Nick has never sung in a studio before. Not even once."

Video-Nick gave a little 'yeah, true' shrug and nodded.

"Never touched a mic for singing, actually. Either way, I feel like I’m more of a singer than a rapper, though."

"Chris needs a rap, not a pop song." Matt replied immediately, barely holding back a grin.

The crowd laughed.

Chris, still holding onto his mic like a lifeline, shook his head with this baffled little smile like he genuinely didn’t know how to react yet.

Then, cut.

The video jumped to a dimly lit studio room, those iconic blue neon lights casting this soft futuristic glow over everything. Matt stood in front of a mic setup, black headphones pushed over his ears, phone in one hand, looking relaxed but focused. He was glancing at someone off-screen.

"... If I have a visual cue of when the beat is gonna drop, it’s gonna be easier for me." He said, pointing slightly with the hand holding his phone.

And then, from somewhere just beside the camera, a familiar voice called out.

"Oh, you wanna see it drop?"

The second that voice hit, the entire crowd lost it.

Chris straight up jolted on the couch, body shooting forward like someone had zapped him. His cap almost flew off. His mic dropped from his hands to his lap - almost fleeing to the ground, and his whole expression screamed 'is that who I think it is?'

Because it was.

Video-Y/N's body walked into the frame. She had a big pair of headphones hanging around her neck, layered gold jewelry below it, catching the blue light.

She looked at whoever Matt had been talking to and nodded, her voice smooth and easy.

"Yeah, that would actually be very helpful."

That was it.

That tiny moment was enough to send the crowd into full-blown chaos. People jumped on their seats, screamed, you could barely hear over the shrieking.

Chris was still frozen with his mouth wide open, jaw starting to hurt, blue eyes staring at the screen, like his brain hadn’t caught up with what just happened.

And then he finally managed to react, dragging his mic to his lips like a man possessed.

"WHAT?!" He practically screeched, his voice cracking with disbelief.

Nick stood up, cracking up as he grabbed his own mic. He turned to where Y/N was obviously hidden behind the stage, grinning.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest for this surprise..." Then he pointed his free hand toward the side of the stage. "Y/N, come out here, queen!"

And right on cue, Y/N appeared, that same smug little smile on her lips like she knew she just turned the theater upside down.

She walked to the center of the stage, waving sweetly to the audience, blowing a kiss toward Matt and Nick’s couch, then heading over to Chris’s one, her movements chill and confident, already used to being on a stage after standing on its side for six shows in a row.

Chris hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He stared at her the entire walk to the couch, his expression a mixture of love and betray.

Y/N plopped down beside him, letting her shoulder bump his casually as she laughed at the chaos around them, thighs touching his jeans covered ones, feeling instantly his body heat penetrating her skin.

Chris dragged his mic back up dramatically, his eyes following hers.

"Did you really make a diss track about your own very good boyfriend?"

The tone was so wounded, so fake-offended, the crowd roared.

Y/N just rolled her eyes, leaning in more - as if it was even possible with how close they already were -, plump lips covered in pink gloss pressing a quick kiss on his milky cheek, leaving glitter behind, and leaned back with a shrug, turning her head to the screen.

"Gotta keep you humble."

Chris stared at her like she’d just invented fire, completely smitten, then dropped his head back with a groan into the couch.

"Unreal..." He muttered into the mic. Though he was smiling so wide, it nearly broke his face.

On screen, Y/N turned to Matt, pressing just one side of her headphones against her ear, listening to what Matt and Nick had sung until now while waiting for the producer to do what Matt had proposed.

"'I’m the favorite child, you can go and ask your father' is literally the best thing you could think of, Matt." She said, eyebrows raised, half-laughing in this low, amused tone that came straight from her chest.

From behind the camera, Nick cackled.

Matt just nodded super fast, his whole face smug, a crooked smile already spreading.

"No, exactly! If he comes with that shit of 'Oh, I have the best tour surprise', dude, I’m getting my gay brother who watches RuPaul’s Drag Race four times a week and his girlfriend who’s obsessed with him to come to this studio and diss rap him for hours."

Y/N snorted.

"Guilty." She muttered, tossing her free hand up dramatically, one foot tapping the ground to the beat that was still echoing from her headphones directly to her ears.

The crowd was still going wild as everyone’s attention kept glued to the screen, the video now slowly fading into what looked like the start of a music video.

The screen lit up with Nick.

Back to the camera, hood up, shoulders squared, and standing in front of a closed elevator.

The hoodie was pitch black and decked out in silver spikes that looked like they could kill someone if he turned too fast, catching the dim light of the scene and gleaming like daggers.

The second his figure appeared, there was a wave of gasps.

"Oh my God." Chris's voice echoed from his mic to the speakers, his eyes darting from the screen to Nick and back again.

DING

The elevator doors slid open, and Nick stepped in without hesitation.

Inside the elevator, the vibe somehow got even cooler.

Matt was standing on the left, looking like he had just gotten out of an important meeting, body covered in an all-black suit. He gave Nick the quickest up-and-down look, raising his eyebrows before turning back to face the closed elevator door again.

The crowd was already going crazy again. People clapping, some laughing with his reaction.

But then the camera moved again, and there she was.

Right side of the elevator.

Leaning back on the wall like this was the most boring situation in the world.

Her body was covered in a black faux leather pleated mini skirt that sat low on her waist, a wide belt looped around it, thick and grommeted, fastened with a large silver buckle that sat slightly tilted.

The skirt was paired with a long-sleeved black mesh top, fitted close to her body, dotted with tiny, scattered rhinestones. Her sleeves extended into fingerless gloves that wrapped around her hands decorated with silver rings.

Black shiny boots to her knees. Choker on.

She had her arms crossed, one knee bent, chewing gum like she could not care less about the world.

She didn’t even look at Nick.

Didn’t acknowledge anyone.

Just chewed her gum with this bored expression.

And that’s when the entire room collectively combusted. Someone yelled 'HOT' so loud it echoed above the screams.

Meanwhile, Chris went through five stages of falling in love all over again in two seconds.

His eyes lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, and this huge smile just took over his face. The kind of smile you try to hide but it’s too late, it’s already there and it’s so obvious you’re whipped.

His body acted almost on instinct, reaching for Y/N and just gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders. His fingers pressed into her upper arm like he was making sure she was real, and he tugged her softly until she leaned into him.

Her laugh was caught in the mic, soft and warm, tilting her head to look at him, but Chris, still staring at the screen, shook his head with the most insane look of awe.

"That's my girl right there, everyone." He said into the mic, taking more screams out of everyone.

Y/N didn’t even try to hide her grin. She leaned fully into him, nuzzling her head briefly on his covered shoulder before turning to look at the big screen like everyone else, her cheeks a little pink from the screaming crowd and the way Chris was looking at her like she hung the moon.

[When you get dressed, you should think a little longer]

On screen, the elevator dinged once more. The doors opening.

Only Nick stepped out, walking to the corridor that stretched in front of him. Neon purple lights on the ceiling. He walked forward, still not looking at the camera.

[First verse + Chorus]

[... Yeah, he wanna be just like me]

The space was bathed in neon purples and soft violets that kissed the black, curved walls. One big circle light glowed from above, dead center, like a spotlight from another planet.

And then, Y/N stepped into frame.

She moved with this crazy mix of confidence and chill, her steps slow and controlled as she slid into the middle of the frame like she owned the place. Half-lidded eyes decorated with shiny gems just below her lower eyelid locked with the camera in that way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

"You talk big, babe, but you're softer than my skincare. Actin’ like a player, but your game’s just not there..."

Y/N’s voice wasn’t sweet. It was smooth, sultry, sharp as glass wrapped in silk.

The crowd gasped.

Literal gasps. Audible whispers.

"Holy fucking shit." Chris's voice sounded choked against his mic, his tongue poking out to wet his lips in a hypnotized manner, pupils intensely widening.

"You say you run the house, can’t find clean underwear. Yeah, I date you, it’s a choice, but let’s not go there."

She bounced gently with the beat, arms moving effortlessly, shoulder dips, slow turns causing her skirt to dance around plump thighs, little half-smirks on the beat drops.

[Middle verse]

[... I'm the favorite child, you can go and ask Mary Lou]

The music video jumped into the next part. Purple. Neon. Glowy and deliciously moody.

"Your brothers roast you, I just add the spice. Lucky that I love you, boy, I’m way too nice."

There she was.

Y/N on the screen, in that dim, vibey room, with a glowing purple haze washing over everything. She was standing front and center, with Nick and Matt behind her, each on each side of her.

Nick was bobbing his head from his place in the left back of the dark room, smirking.

Matt had this calm confidence on his face, nodding along in the right back, his arms moving to the beat while his eyes locked onto the camera, blue bandana moving with each movement.

A smug smirk stretched across her face, exposing the two tooth gems glued to her pearly canine teeth's.

Two silver stars, shining below the camera flash.

"The gems!" Chris yelled on the mic before pointing it to the big screen, blue eyes widening. "Oh, you're gonna have to use those every day now."

Y/N laughed, her body shaking against his.

"It looks amazing, doesn't it? I was the one who told her to use them." Nick nodded from his place on the couch, a smug look taking over his features.

"And we all say 'thank you, Nick'." Matt muttered against his mic, snorting.

Then the video flickered.

Now it was all white neon light. Their dark silhouettes danced and vibed in perfect sync. Just their outlines, glowing in white and shifting around with the beats.

"So sip your soda, flex that 'Rizz God' fame. But let’s be honest, you'd forget your own name."

Every word, she looked straight into the lens like she was talking to someone specific.

Back on stage, Chris turned slowly to her and narrowed his eyes.

"You’re lucky I love you."

"Aw." She said into his mic, pouting her lower lip with the fakest sweetness ever. "You’d forget your own name without me anyway."

[Last verse + last chorus]

[... Yeah, he wanna be just like me]

When everyone thought the music video was over with how the beat got lower, the final scene started.

The crowd screamed, gasping in surprise.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Matt's voice yelled from his place, echoing from the speakers and bouncing against the theater walls. "There wasn't-"

"The song ended... it ended with that chorus! Wha-" Nick picked up from where Matt abruptly stopped, body sitting a little more straight on the orange couch, frowning.

Dark neon purple again. But this time, deeper. Intense.

Y/N was back, alone in that glowing room.

She was staring straight into the camera, half-lidded eyes, lips already curled into that smug, almost daring little smirk. Her head purposefully tilted just slightly to the side.

She had a Fresh Love unreleased black cap pulled low over her forehead, the brim shadowing her eyes a bit. But not enough to hide them. Not even close.

They were sharp. Locked in.

Her lips were red now, glossy and full, a little too perfect.

And then, she rapped.

"Okay, but listen, he’s mine, so tread light. Y’all can joke, but I swing when it doesn't sit right."

And holy shit.

Chris audibly choked on stage.

Nick had to grab Matt’s arm, jaw dropping so hard that anyone who paid close attention knew it hurt.

Matt let out the longest "AYOOOOOOOOO" into his mic like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

And the crowd?

Feral. Hands in the air. People screaming.

On the screen, Y/N's hands moved as she spoke, smooth and expressive. Her long black nails with silver glitter caught the light and sparkled as she pointed to herself on 'he’s mine'.

She looked down for just a split second, then licked her lips casually as the next line dropped.

"You call him the worst? Nah, he’s my favorite view."

She dragged that line with the softest rasp, just enough flirt in her tone to make the entire crowd go still for half a second like they needed to process it.

Chris's hand flexed around Y/N's shoulder, discreetly adjusting his hips and legs in a manspread position to try and hide how turned on he actually was, jaw flexing and adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, watching the screen like he could devour her video version with his eyes.

"Say what you want, but he’s better than the two of you."

The screen paused on her face for one last beat. Her smirk still there. Her eyes still locked into the camera like she was daring anyone to come for her man. Like she was saying, 'go ahead, try me'.

And then it all fades to black.

The music stopped.

And for a second, the theater was pure silence.

Until the crowd exploded.

Screams. Claps. Cheers. Laughter. Chaos. Literal hysteria.

Nick had his eyes still locked on the big screen, mic frozen halfway his mouth, while Matt glared at Y/N with a playful hard gaze.

"Oops?" Y/N pressed her lips in a fine line.

"How did you even record this part without us knowing?"

Y/N just sat there all smug, doing a little shoulder shrug.

"I just went back to the studio a week later. Me and the producer had it all planned since day one." Her eyes darted from Matt to Nick. "And then, I talked to the crew that helped us record the music video and asked them if we could film the last part and add it to the already edited MV. The one you both received didn't have this part."

"I'm shocked. This is actually insane, Y/N." Nick shook his head, looking at the crowd with raised eyebrows. "I guess we all were surprised tonight, guys."

Y/N jokingly rolled her eyes at him before turning to look at Chris with this soft little smile, one that was completely different from the cocky on-screen version of her. One from the girl who loved him too hard, who wrote verses like that not to roast him but to make him laugh.

Her fingers were affectionately tapping against the inside of his thigh, her arm resting comfortably above his legs, cheeks glowing with the most genuine happiness.

Meanwhile, Chris was just staring at her with this look, like she was the only person in the room before turning to the crowd.

"Y’all heard that, right? That was a threat." His eyes moved to his brothers. "I would watch my back now if I were you two."

Y/N giggled and grabbed the mic from him, casually resting her free hand on his chest.

"It was a love letter, babe. Relax."

The crowd screamed again.

Matt shook his head, fixing his cap before looking at her again.

"You’re so scary sometimes."

Chris snorted, pressing his mouth to the side of her head before turning to the mic again.

"I don’t care what anyone says... you’re better than all of us."

Nick nodded.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, the protector of Chris’s dignity, the queen herself, give it up for Y/N."

The cheers were deafening.

Y/N peeked down to the crowd, eyes wide, lips bitten back into a shy smile, shaking her head.

Under all the lights, with all the noise, the chaos, the screaming, Chris leaned in, whispering in her ear just for her.

"So just to confirm... I’m your favorite view, yeah?"

She turned to look up at him, eyes shining.

And without even thinking, she kissed him.

Just a peck. Quick, sweet. Pure instinct. Pure them.

Everyone screamed as loud as the whole crew thought it was possible, the stage shaking with it.

"Oh for fuck's sake- Chris!" Matt yelled, throwing his free arm up.

"CUT THE CAMERAS." Nick followed right after, standing up and waving his hand in a frenetic way, holding back his laugh.

Chris just held her tighter, his own laugh echoing like music around the speakers.

RECORD BREAKING FIRST RELEASED SONG - IS THERE ANYTHING THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS CAN’T DO?

By E! News Staff

The Sturniolo Triplets have officially made their mark in the music world. Nicolas and Matthew's debut single, LIKE ME, has climbed into the Top 20 Most Streamed Songs on Spotify less than 24 hours after release, garnering over 1 million streams. The track, which features Chris Sturniolo’s girlfriend, Y/N, has taken the internet by storm.

Alongside the single, Chris’s fashion brand Fresh Love released a limited-edition black cap that Y/N wears in the music video. The drop sold out in just six minutes, reportedly bringing in over $100,000 in merchandise revenue within the first day.

With viral success, chart-topping numbers, and a fast-growing presence in both music and fashion, the Sturniolo Triplets are proving they’re more than internet personalities. They’re building an empire.

© vanteguccir

[bubblyi3]

Residuals PART 3 | JJK

"you were always the ‘what if’ in the back of his mind."

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: childhood best friends, lovers to enemies to strangers, fratboy!jungkook, heartbreak, uni!au

word count: 16.5k

content warning: angst, mild smut, mild languages

summary: jungkook used to be your everything. your best friend, your first love. but you both grew up and grew apart. he’s now the campus heartbreaker, a cocky frat boy who runs with the worst crowd. when a cruel dare asks him to destroy you just for the fun of it. everything shatters. trust. hearts. and maybe the chance to ever put it back together.

author's note: hiiiiii everyone!! so sorry it took forever to update, but the long awaited part 3 is finally here 🤍 TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED <3 there's so many of you on it... that’s insane :o anyways the angst still isn’t over 😭 but thank you so so much to everyone who’s been keeping up with this series (and my other stuff too) it honestly means the world to me :) ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵠᵘᶦⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵗᵉⁿᵗᶦᵃˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʳᶦᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ

if there are any grammar mistakes, i apologise in advance 😅 anyways happy reading ✨ and pls do send me more of your thoughts and opinions 💭❤️ i love reading them and responding to you all 😊💬💖 :)))

© disclaimer: please do not copy, translate or reproduce any part of this work without my permission. thank you!

PROLOGUE || PART 1 || PART 2

🏷️ taglist: @whoa-jo / @username23345 / @kelsyx33 / @toosweetforyall / @junniesoleilkth / @literallyjimin / @jeeykey / @stars4kooo / @delulutofr / @smoljimjim / @elithenium / @mysoulherofriend / @ukndtwme / @somehowukook / @songbyeonkim / @miakay98 / @sundains / @bjoriis / @kooever / @dragonflygurl4 / @labbbaaa / @cherricherryy / @jeongguks-posts / @rexana19 / @ppeachyttae / @ssbb-22 / @anydzia / @multifanbigbang / @fairyflorasworld / @miakay98 / @taetaecatboy / @mangify / @lachimolalajeon / @mikrokosmosellen / @blueberriesm / @aliceinthewornderland / @taebreezs / @yunhoswrldddd / @ayecannot / @aestheticalime / @llallaaa / @softchannie / @nikilig / @amarawayne / @vinylphwoar / @gizaspicebag / @jkwritez / @prettyjmsworld / @00frenchfries00 / @ennvfv / @bhonbhon / @kissyfacekoo / @alextgef / @zorj4yrk / @roguesthetic / @avawants2havefun / @hoelychildofgod

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] His fingers closed around the cold neck of a beer bottle that someone handed him. It was a simple gesture, but one that anchored him to the moment, and made him feel a little least invisible. The condensation slipped down onto his skin, grounding him in something real, something physical, while his mind buzzed with everything he was trying to ignore. You. 

Jungkook could feel the bass thumping through the floor, see the blur of bodies moving in and out of the living room, the warmth of alcohol loosening conversations around him that he wasn’t really part of. He wasn’t sure why he came tonight. But Jimin had insisted he should come and meet the guys. 

From his perspective, if a friend group had a label, Kim Namjoon would be the leader. The young man looked steady, observant, and he was instinctively respected by everyone, without him ever needing to say much. Namjoon leaned forward from where he sat on the armrest of the couch, eyes settling on Jungkook. “So, what are you studying man?” 

Jungkook blinked, startled by the sudden question, then gave a small shrug. “Majoring in film production.” 

Namjoon’s face lit up with an easy approval. “That’s awesome, man. Are you looking to direct in the future or…?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Jungkook said, settling down the beer bottle on the small coffee table in front. “Something behind the camera, maybe. Cinematography, editing. I like building things from the background.” 

There was a pause. A small, knowing hum from Namjoon. 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You seem like someone who notices the details. The stuff most people miss. That’s what makes films good, y’know?” 

Jungkook didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t used to being seen like that. Especially not by someone he barely knew. His default was to shrink back, to play it cool. But there was something disarming about Namjoon’s tone. Like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and that’s something Jungkook secretly envied. 

Jungkook murmured a soft 'Thanks,' his fingers brushing the bottle on the table before he took a slow sip. The taste was sharp, almost sour, but it was enough to ground him, distracting from the tightness in his chest.

Across the room, someone laughed too loudly, and another song took over the playlist, its bass vibrating through the floor. For a moment, Jungkook let the noise wash over him, pretending things were simpler than they were. Pretending he didn’t feel like he was being pulled in two directions. He cares about you… he really does. That was never in question. But sometimes, that care felt more like a duty than a choice. That care came layered with so many expectations. From his parents, from yours, from everyone who ever saw you two side by side and assumed it was only a matter of time. As if love was something that came with a checklist. 

And then there was everything else. The uni experience, the friends, the freedom, the girls, the version of himself he hadn’t fully lived yet. The late nights, the recklessness, the adrenaline of being young and answerable to no one. He knew he was supposed to be better than that, but part of him craved the chaos. 

You made him better, and that terrifies him. Because you also made him vulnerable. And no one else could touch that soft, exposed part of him… not even himself. And then just as if Jungkook knew that the silence was a bit obvious now and how he lost he was in his own thoughts. He gave a small shake of his head and turned to Namjoon. 

“How about you?” Jungkook asked, more to fill the space than from any real curiosity. 

Namjoon smiled, tipping his bottle toward Jungkook before answering. “In my third year in Psych. Planning to go into counseling eventually. I wanna help people figure out their mess.” 

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “That’s heavy.” 

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed, leaning back. "But I think it’s kind of worth it... Humans are so complex, you know? It’s fascinating, and then there are moments where it’s just like, 'What the fuck?'"

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was brief, the atmosphere shifting again as if someone had flipped a switch. Another guy, grinning just across from Jungkook, jerked his chin toward the girl Taehyung had just been making out with. “Yo, ever fucked someone that hot before?” At that moment, Jungkook's surroundings started becoming clearler as Namjoon wasn’t the only person keeping him company, there were others. Observing and listening. 

 The room erupted in hoots, whistles, laughter that felt sharp around the edges. 

Jungkook froze. The question landed like a punch he hadn’t braced for. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Until Jimin, quick and composed, stepped in. “Hey, JK’s got a girl, alright?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise.

All eyes turned to Jungkook. 

He swallowed and forced a steady breath. “Yeah. Y/n. She’s my childhood bestfriend. She also studies here… we’re not together or anything. But I care about her. A lot.” 

The room slightly quited as if they hadn’t expected the sincerity. Jimin gave him a short nod, one that said I’ve got your back, even if his eyes flickered with something else. Guilt, maybe. Or something close to it.

Hoseok, ever the provocateur, smirked from the couch and nudged him. “So... is she hot?”

Jungkook blinked, a little thrown by the pivot, but answered without hesitation. “She’s more than that. She’s beautiful. Inside and out.”

One of the guys exchanged a look with another, like maybe Jungkook had missed the tone of the conversation. But Jimin’s expression shifted. It was less teasing now, more proud. Like he didn’t expext Jungkook to say it, but was glad he did. 

“That’s actually kinda cute,” Yoongi laughed, shaking their head. 

“Yeah, man,” Jin chimed in, grinning. “You’ve got it easy. A childhood bestfriend and a girlfriend if you ever feel like calling it that. Built-in relationship… practically arranged marriage, huh?” 

The guys laughed, but the comment hit something deeper in Jungkook. Because it wasn’t far off. 

He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but suddenly he was back in his hallway, no older than thirteen, pausing at the corner when he heard both your mums talking in the living room. The door was slightly ajar, the warm hum of their voices drifting out with the smell of dinner.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if they ended up together?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it more than once. They’re so close already. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?” 

“They balance each other out. Jungkook’s a little wild, and Y/n grounds him. And she lights up whenever he’s around.” 

He hadn’t known what to make of it back then. Just flushed, embarrassed, unsure if it was something he was supposed to want too. And now, years later, it lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost that never really left.  

Namjoon leaned in again, but his voice had changed. No longer friendly, but testing. “That is cute. But if you’re thinking of hanging with us more, man… might wanna rethink that. With us? Girls are just noise. Drama. Mind games.” 

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. He looked down at his beer for a second before shaking his head, calm but firm. “Y/n’s not like that. I trust her.”

Jimin gave him a quiet, approving smile. But Jungkook caught the way his eyes dropped after, guilt shadowing them like a secret not yet confessed.

Namjoon raised his bottle, tilting it slightly with a smirk. “It’s bros before hoes around here, like it or not.”

The words hit the room like a dare. Everyone exchanged grins, waiting to see if Jungkook would fall in line.

Hoseok leaned, his tone slick and easy. “Think about it, man. Why get tied down? Girls are just trouble. They’re clingy, insecure, cheating messes. We’ve all been burned. It’s easier when it’s just casual, no mess, no strings.” 

Jungkook glanced around the circle of grins, half-baked wisdom, and barely concealed resentment.

“Alright, JK… why don’t you bring her around?” Namjoon said, gesturing to the group. “We wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

There was a pause. Just a few seconds too long. The kind that made it obvious he was thinking too hard. His fingers curled tighter around the bottle again, knuckles whitening ever so slightly. He could still hear the music, the bass thrumming beneath his feet like a heartbeat he couldn’t shut out. But it all felt distant now. Muted.

Bring you around?

It should’ve been a simple request. Hell, if this were any other moment, any other group, he might’ve said sure and left it at that. You would’ve smiled at them, probably brought a snack to share, maybe even teased Jungkook in front of them and made it all feel easy.

But this didn’t feel easy.

But then, just as quickly, the version of himself that always felt like he had something to prove kicked in. The part that hated silence more than confrontation. The part that didn’t want to seem like he had anything to hide.

So Jungkook exhaled through his nose, forced his jaw to unclench, and gave a small shrug. “Sure,” he said, with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jungkook stayed frozen on the edge of his bed for a long while, phone still glowing in his palm, the words from the group chat staring back at him like vultures circling.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. The urge to shut it all down, to tell them to fuck off, to admit that this wasn’t just a game, was strong. A flicker of something real sparked deep in his chest.

But just as fast, his pride doused it.

Because the moment he admitted that the kiss meant something… that you still meant something… was the moment he handed them power. Gave them reason to question him. And he couldn’t afford that. Not when everything about his place in that group, hinged on keeping up the version of himself they expected.

The unshakable, unbothered golden boy. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To feel free? To dive into the party life, the girls, the games? To never be tied down by anyone or anything, to live on his terms without the weight of expectations or the messy emotions that came with real connections?

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned back, tossing his phone on the mattress like it burned him. He stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.

You were different now. Stronger. Softer in ways that made his chest ache and harder in ways that reminded him he couldn’t reach you like he used to.

And yet, despite the distance and time, you still let him in. You still kissed him back. It felt hesitant, unsure... but you did.

Was that love?

Or just muscle memory?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Not when it complicated everything.

He wasn’t ready for complicated. He wasn’t ready for you.

What he was ready for was the game. The one they all expected him to win. The one he said he didn’t care about, but still hadn’t walked away from.

So, he grabbed his phone again, shaking off the urge to just ignore the chat entirely.

Jungkook typed slowly, carefully choosing his words.

[Jungkook]: She kissed me back. Easy.

He hit send. Delivered. Read.

A fresh wave of messages followed. Laughing emojis. Shit talk. Praise. Hoseok even dropped a gif of someone fake bowing in admiration. And Jungkook laid there, letting it all wash over him, blank-faced.

The truth was, it wasn’t easy.

It felt like shit.

But none of them needed to know that.

This version of Jungkook. Frat Jungkook, ego Jungkook. He was untouchable. Confident. Cruel, if he had to be. And for now, he had to be.

Because if he stopped and let the real Jungkook through. The one who still remembered your favorite snack, the one who used to race you home from school just to see you smile when he let you win. The one who you've seen cried at the end of sad movies. He’d break.

And breaking was not an option.

He got up, stripped off his hoodie, and headed to the bathroom, trying to shake the feel of your lips from his skin, like maybe a cold splash of water could cleanse him of the guilt.

But it clung to him. Silent. Invisible.

That kiss had felt like something.

But tonight, he’d pretend it wasn’t.

And tomorrow, he’d keep playing the part. Because his pride still mattered more than the truth.

And his ego?

Still louder than his heart.

The days crept by, and Jungkook still had no idea how the hell he was supposed to fix what he broke. Whatever this had become. How to get you back on his radar, to look you in the eyes again without feeling like a stranger in a place that once felt like home. It wasn't just miscommunication or time apart. It wasn't subtle. Not a flinch or a misread. It was because he crossed a line.

A line that had always been blurry between you two, but still unspoken. At the night he kissed you, everything changed.

He knew why you were avoiding him. And you were good at it, too.

He’d catch glimpses of you through your bedroom window, hear your footsteps upstairs when he stopped by with his parents for dinner or a chat. But you always found a way to slip out of reach. Like tonight, Jungkook had come over with his parents. The kind of casual weeknight dinner that used to mean movie nights, teasing over who got the last piece of chicken, and you curled up next to him on the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And your mum who's always composed and always warm, placed a dish on the dining table with that same practiced smile. "Y/n had an early dinner. She's in her room studying… or doing God knows what."

"Or sleeping," your dad added, chuckling softly as he poured himself a drink.

Jungkook had forced a smile. He didn’t say what he was thinking, that he knew you weren’t sleeping. That he’d heard your desk chair scrape against the floor a few minutes ago from upstairs or some faint mumbling going on behind your door.

Anyways it was clear to Jungkook you were avoiding him... not dinner, not studying.

“Kook, did your mum mention anything about Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party at the community hall?” your mum asked casually, reaching across to top up the banchan.

“Oh! That totally slipped my mind,” his mum said, letting out a soft laugh as she covered her mouth, still chewing on a bite of japchae.

Jungkook blinked. “Mrs. Kwon?” he repeated, brow slightly furrowed. He glanced at his own mum beside him, who gave a small nod as she sipped her tea.

But then it clicked.

Oh.

Mrs. Kwon.

His eyes softened with recognition.

She was you and Jungkook's old elementary school teacher. The one who used to call you two the twins even though you looked nothing alike. Who would jokingly separate your seats because “one giggle from her and you’re both done for.” The same Mrs. Kwon who became a close friend to both your mums after you graduated.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, letting the memory settle. “She’s retiring?” he asked, still surprised. “Isn’t she still pretty young?”

His dad gave a small smile. “She is. But I think she just wants more time for herself. Travel, pottery classes, yoga retreats. She said she’s done wrangling kids and chalk dust.”

“Honestly,” your dad added with a laugh from the other end of the room, “she’s earned it. Thirty years of dealing with other people’s kids? I would’ve retired ten years ago.”

Jungkook shook his head with a grin. “Man. It's been so long. Those were the good old days.”

Your mum’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary. “You know she still asks about you and Y/n."

Jungkook froze for half a beat, then glanced toward the staircase.

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Yeah?”

“She’s always had a soft spot for the both of you,” his mum said. “Said it was nice, watching two kids grow up so close.”

Jungkook didn’t reply right away.

Just traced his thumb over the edge of his glass and let the quiet speak.

“So, about the retirement party,” your mum began, glancing between Jungkook and everyone else at the table. “It’d be great if you and Y/n could run a few errands this Friday. Pick up some things from the list, decorations, maybe a cake or even a gift from both of you.”

“Don’t worry too much about the food,” she added. “Your mum and I have that covered.”

“As for the invitations,” his mum chimed in, gesturing with her chopsticks, “We’ll leave that to the old men. Your dad and Y/n’s. They’ll take care of getting the word out. Just make sure we invite as many locals as we can... anyone who knew Mrs. Kwon.”

Jungkook, quietly sipping his soup, hummed in response.

“Would you be alright to help, Jungkook?” your mum asked, turning to him. “Or will you be too caught up with uni work?”

He paused, lowering his spoon.

Technically, yes. He had a deadline this week for a film analysis report in which he yet needed to finish. But this? This was an opportunity. He wasn’t dumb. This was the perfect excuse to pull you out of your room… and into his space.

Driving around together. Picking out party supplies. Arguing over whether to go with a chocolate cake or something fancier. A chance to chip away at whatever wall you were building, without making it obvious he cared enough to try.

“Actually,” he added, more confidently now, “it sounds like a good way to take a break from studying.... I’m keen.”

There was a beat of silence, then your mum gave a pleased smile and nodded. "I'll let Y/n know."

And Jungkook just nodded back, reaching for his glass of water, fingers curling gently around it as if grounding himself.

He didn’t let his face show anything. But his heart?

It was already upstairs.

Waiting. Wondering that maybe somewhere, buried beneath the silence and space. He was still in there. In your heart. Even if you didn’t know what to do with him anymore.

It was now the first Thursday of the semester break, and you still had another full week before uni started up again. A whole week left to keep avoiding him, to sit with your feelings.

You’d tried everything to stay distracted. Kept your head down, nose buried in business assignments. You were now halfway through your marketing research paper. Highlighting sentences you’d probably have to reread anyway. You have even reorganized your folders and colour-coded your calendar. Just for the illusion of control.

You knew Jungkook had come over for dinner with his parents last night. You'd made sure to eat something earlier to avoid being tempted. But as the evening wore on, the delicious smell of your mom’s cooking wafted upstairs, and your stomach betrayed you. Reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

Still, you stayed put. Ear pressed half-heartedly to your pillow, mind tuned in to every laugh from downstairs, every familiar voice drifting through the walls. It felt wrong, this strange game of hide-and-seek in your own house. But you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

You tried to ignore it, pushing the hunger aside as you waited for him and his parents to leave. The moment the front door clicked shut and silence settled again, you crept out of your room and rushed downstairs to raid the kitchen for leftovers.

Ever since that kiss, Jungkook's been louder than usual. Some nights his music blares through the walls, followed by bursts of laughter at whatever he's watching. You've laid in bed more than once thinking, What the hell is he on?

You wanted to text him, Tell him to keep it down.

But no. You're not going to be the first to cave.

You'd rather call noise control than send him a message.

Which brings you to now. Sitting in front of your laptop, and on the other end of the video call, Hana’s jaw drops, eyes bulging in disbelief.

“He did what now?!” she nearly shrieks, sloshing her drink dangerously close to the edge.

You flinch. “Shhh!” you hiss, immediately glancing toward your door. The last thing you needed was your parents overhearing this conversation.

Without another word, you slip up from your chair and quietly close the door, pressing it shut like sealing off a secret.

“Hana, seriously, keep your voice down.”

“No, because what the actual fuck,” she fires back, already too far gone. “Jungkook kissed you? Your Jungkook? The same one who’s been acting like you don’t exist and probably collecting STDs like Pokémon cards?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Can you not call him ‘my Jungkook’? He’s not my anything.”

Hana narrows her eyes at you. “Oh no. Don’t do that thing where you downplay it. Start talking. How, when, where?”

You sigh, defeated. “It was after my Halmoni’s house. He drove me home. We barely said a word the whole ride, and then he just pulled over. No warning. Just looked at me like… like he didn’t know who I was, or maybe he did and hated it. Then he kissed me.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the call. Hana blinks, “And?”

“And I kissed him back. For a second.” You exhale, voice small. “I let it happen. I don’t even know why. Then I snapped out of it and told him he doesn’t get to do that. He dropped me home and left.”

Hana stares. “You’re telling me that the human disaster who ghosted you on your birthday, humiliated you in front of his dumbass frat friends, and ignored you for months just waltzed back into your life and kissed you like nothing happened?”

You shrug, half-hearted. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Hana leans in closer to the camera, her eyes narrowed. "Okay, this guy does not get to make you his unfinished business."

You blink. "I know."

She raises a finger, like she’s about to drop some serious wisdom. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You almost laugh, but the sound gets stuck in your throat. "You think he's playing me? I mean, since we’ve been home for the break, I’ve pretty much got the upper hand. I could literally tell his parents what kind of influence he’s been hanging around."

Hana’s eyes widen. "Ohhh, you wouldn’t."

"Maybe… maybe not," you reply with a shrug.

There’s a beat of silence between you, the soft hum of your laptop fan filling the void as your gaze shifts to your untouched research paper. On the other end of the screen, Hana is now sprawled out on her bed, her laptop teetering on her knees, a look of pure academic defeat on her face.

“Honestly,” she sighs, shoving her hair into a messy bun, “I need a break from these goddamn business papers. If I have to reference Porter’s Five Forces one more time, I’ll commit an actual crime.”

You snort. “Same. I opened a blank doc and somehow ended up trauma-dumping instead of writing anything useful.”

“Valid,” she says with a lazy nod, sipping from her chipped mug. Then her expression shifts as something sparks in her mind. “Oh! Omg, I almost forgot to tell you. I saw freaking Park Jimin at the gym yesterday.”

You blink, confused for a second. “Wait, Park Jimin as in Jungkook’s Jimin?”

“Yes!” she grins. “Like, actual golden-boy, smile-that-could-end-wars, Park Jimin.”

You sit up a little straighter, curiosity piqued.

“He is so hot. Obviously. But also... surprisingly nice? Like, I was lowkey panicking because I dropped my drink bottle and it rolled across the floor, and he actually walked over and picked it up for me.”

“Classic Jimin,” you murmur, the corner of your mouth lifting.

Because out of all the frat guys Jungkook had introduced you to that night. Jimin was the only one who hadn’t treated you like a punchline or some extension of Jungkook’s ego. No sideways smirks. No stupid comments. Just a small bow, a kind smile, and genuine conversation about your classes. It had surprised you then, and stuck with you.

Hana raises a brow. “Wait, you’ve met him before, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice softer now. “He was actually the only one who wasn’t a total ass.”

Hana hums thoughtfully, picking up on the subtle shift in your tone. “Then why’s he even hanging out with them?”

You pause, eyes flicking back to your laptop screen before forcing a breath through your nose. “Doesn’t matter,” you say, a little sharper now. “Hot or nice doesn’t mean anything.”

You sit up straighter, like you're brushing it all off. “You know that saying.... ‘birds of a feather flock together’?”

Hana nods slowly on the other end.

“Yeah, well... if Jungkook’s an asshole, then deep down Jimin is too. They all are. That’s the company they keep.”

A silence settles after your last words, the kind that isn't uncomfortable, just weighted. Like both of you know there's more underneath, but neither of you wants to touch it.

The gentle whir of your laptop fan fills the space again, joined now by the faint golden light bleeding in from the window beside you. It's warmer than before, softer. You blink and glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. 4:27 PM.

You rub your eyes, surprised. “Wait… have we seriously been on this call since, like 11 AM?”

Hana glances at her own clock and groans. “Holy shit. We’re disgusting.”

You both laugh, and for a moment, things feel lighter again.

“I haven’t even eaten a proper meal today,” you mutter, stretching your arms above your head. Your shoulders crack in protest. “I think I’ve fully fused into this chair.”

“Girl, go feed yourself,” Hana snorts. “I think my spine’s permanently curved from sitting like a shrimp.”

You smile, the tension from earlier finally easing. “Alright, I’m logging off. Let’s pretend we were productive.”

“We were productive. Emotionally,” she smirks.

You shake your head, fondness curling at the edges of your chest. “Talk later?”

“Always.”

The call ends with a soft click, the screen blinking back to your cluttered desktop. But without Hana’s voice, the room feels a little too quiet, a little too still.

You lean back in your chair, exhaling deeply.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about Jimin again. And then, inevitably, about Jungkook.

But you don’t go there.

You get up instead, heading downstairs for the kitchen, telling yourself it’s just hunger. Not the ache of things left unsaid.

As you finally made your way downstairs, the warmth of home greeted you, mingled with the faint scent of jasmine perfume and musky cologne lingering subtly in the air. Your eyes caught your dad lounging on the couch, half-watching one of his usual TV shows, while your mum was at the dining table, carefully putting away plates and cutlery like she was trying not to make a sound.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you. “Oh, there she is! Finally out of her cave,” your dad teased with a grin, not even looking away from the screen.

You blinked for a moment, slightly taken aback. It wasn’t the joke that caught you off guard, but how put-together both your parents looked. Your mum, usually in house slippers and a robe by this hour, was wearing pressed dress pants, a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly at the waist, and just a hint of makeup that brightened her face.

Your dad of all people, had actually combed his hair, swapped his usual tee for a button-up, and even wore cologne. For someone supposedly just relaxing at home, it all felt... suspiciously polished.

“Y/n, I saved some dinner for you,” your mum said sweetly, motioning toward the covered dishes on the bench. “Made your favorites.”

“Oh... you guys already ate?” you asked, glancing at the untouched place settings.

“Well, not exactly,” she replied, a spark in her tone. “Your dad and I are heading out in a bit. Double date with Jungkook’s parents. We’re going to that comedy night in town.”

“Wow,” you said, raising a brow. “And no invite for me?”

Your dad chuckled, finally turning off the TV and rising from the couch to grab his coat. “We figured you’d be buried under uni work, and honestly... we booked the tickets ages ago."

“Next time, okay?” your mum added gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a soft kiss to your temple before moving past you.

As your dad pocketed the car keys and straightened his jacket, he gave you a small wave. “Don’t wait up. We won’t be too long.”

You gave a half-smile, returning the wave. “Alright, have fun. And don’t go too crazy.”

They both laughed lightly before heading to the door. Just as your mum reached for the handle, she turned back casually, as if it were an afterthought.

“Oh, and before I forget,” she said. “Jungkook will be coming over soon to keep you company. I asked him to swing by so you two can catch up. I was also hoping you could make time to run a few errands with him tomorrow morning. Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party is this Saturday, and we need a few things picked up. Decorations, cake, a few bits and bobs. It’d be a big help.”

You froze slightly, the mention of his name shifting something in your chest. Your expression faltered for a second, but your mum had already turned away, smiling as she stepped out the door.

“Be nice,” she added with a wink, then closed it behind her. Leaving you alone in the silence of the hallway... with the unwanted thought of the one person you hadn’t planned on seeing.

Once the door shut, the house settled into a stillness that felt louder than it should have. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, shoulders sinking slightly as you turned away from the entryway.

With nothing better to do and your stomach reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, you padded toward the kitchen and lifted the food cover your mum had mentioned. The sight alone made your stomach flutter with anticipation. Steaming rice, glistening teriyaki chicken, and a generous serving of cheesy tteokbokki on the side, the melted mozzarella still holding some stretch. Hell yes!

You sat at the table and ate in comfortable silence, demolishing the entire plate without pause. It tasted like everything you've been craving.

After cleaning up and washing the dishes, you wandered back toward the stairs, but instead of heading straight up, your eyes flicked toward the mirror in the hallway. You looked… okay. Still in your oversized hoodie and sweats, hair in a loose bun. It was comfortable, sure, but suddenly, you found yourself hesitating.

It’s just Jungkook, you told yourself. Why the hell did it matter?

But your feet were already carrying you upstairs. Within minutes, you changed into something a little more presentable. A soft-knit top and loose black pants. Hair down. A swipe of lip balm. You hated how subconscious it made you feel.

You made your way back down, trying not to think too much about it, and collapsed onto the couch. The quiet hum of a random drama played in the background, but your attention was fractured. You glanced at your phone. The screen lit up. No new messages. Not even a quick “on my way.”

Why would you even expect that? This wasn’t the Jungkook who used to spam you with dumb selfies and memes when he was two minutes late. This was the new Jungkook. The distant one. The one who became someone else.

You found yourself walking toward the front window anyway.

From the living room, the view into Jungkook’s place was partially blocked by the hedges, but you could still make out the soft golden lights inside. No signs of him stepping out. You watched for a moment longer than you wanted to, then sighed and backed away, arms folded across your chest.

Time passed. You checked your phone again. Somehow, over an hour and a half had slipped by. You were now lying sideways on the couch, the show long forgotten in the background, the half-watched episode just white noise to your thoughts, and you had slowly dozed off. Your eyes slowly closing.

And then... the sound of the doorbell snapped you upright.

Your heart did something strange. You blinked, disoriented by how fast your body reacted.

You sat frozen for a moment, just staring toward the door.

It was him. It had to be.

You swallowed, then slowly got up, smoothing the creases from your pants with clammy palms. And as you made your way toward the front door, every step was a quiet reminder.

It’s just Jungkook.

It’s just Jungkook. So why did it feel like anything but? Hana’s words looped in your mind, her voice sharp and warning. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You swallowed, knowing she was right. Though you're still the Y/n that Jungkook grew up with since diapers. You were never blind. You knew how to read between the lines. You weren't naive. So if Jungkook was playing whatever game this was, whether it was guilt, avoidance, or something more complicated. Then two could play at that game. But could you? Could you keep up if his presence was exactly what you wanted?

The thought made your grip tighten on the door handle as you pulled it open slowly. You’d expected… something colder. A distant nod, a mumbled hey, maybe that faraway look he’s been wearing. The one that made it seem like he was always halfway somewhere else, even when standing right in front of you.

But instead you've met with something entirely different.

“Sorry for the wait,” Jungkook said, his voice light, almost too casual. He held up two steaming boxes of pizza in one hand and a cold bottle of Coke Zero in the other, like some peace offering wrapped in garlic crust and carbonated bubbles.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

There he was. Bathed in the warm hue of the porch light, eyes bright, skin soft and golden like he’d just stepped out of a memory. His hair was tousled like he’d run his fingers through it on the way over, and he wore one of those effortlessly oversized hoodies paired with gray sweats that somehow made existing look like an aesthetic. He looked like comfort. Like the version of him you hadn’t seen in far too long.

And he was smiling. That familiar smile, lazy and warm. A little crooked at the corners. The lip ring he wears now was gone, and your gaze faltered for a beat too long at his mouth. Those lips. The ones that were on yours days ago. However, the Jungkook that is now standing before you felt real, warm and familiar. Not the stranger from the frat parties, not the guy who never texted back.

You folded your arms instinctively, a half-hearted shield. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, tone cooler than you meant. “I can look after myself, you know.”

Jungkook tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes, but you kept them trained elsewhere. On the bottle of soda, the floor, anywhere but his face.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “but where’s the fun in that?” There was a beat, a pause in his voice. Then, a little quieter, “And… I wanted to. Plus, we should probably talk. About… you know. That night.”

Before you could respond, he stepped inside, breezing past you like muscle memory, like he hadn’t spent the last few months being emotionally MIA. He handed you the chilled Coke, the condensation cool against your palms, then toed off his shoes and headed straight for the living room.

He placed the pizza boxes gently on the coffee table, like it was any other night. And you stood there in the doorway for just a second longer, your heart a little too loud, your mind a little too full. Because the one thing you weren’t ready for was the version of him that actually looked like he cared.

Jungkook glanced at the TV, the flickering light reflecting in his eyes. "Wait... is this Never Have I Ever?"

You gave a small shrug, still standing with the bottle of Coke in hand. “Yeah. I rewatch it when I don’t know what else to put on.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Classic comfort show. Still team Paxton?"

"Always," you muttered under you breath, trying not to smile.

Jungkook chuckled and settled on the floor in front of the coffee table, already lifting the lids off both pizza boxes. The warm, cheesy scent hit the air instantly. Garlicky, spicy, a little sweet. It filled the room like nostalgia.

“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna make me eat all this alone, are you?”

You sighed like it was a hassle, but your body was already moving toward him. “You’re lucky it smells good,” you muttered, placing the Coke bottle on the table before heading to the kitchen cupboard.

He made a satisfied little sound as he picked up a slice, steam still curling from the crust. “Mmm... this is so hot,” he said through a mouthful, not even trying to be graceful.

You grabbed two cups and returned, lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. Well, not beside him. You gave yourself some breathing room, settling cross-legged just far enough away that your knees wouldn’t accidentally bump. The space felt necessary, like an invisible boundary you weren’t ready to cross.

Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He was already flicking through Netflix titles with the remote, chewing like a man who hadn’t eaten all day.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, eyes still on the screen.

“I actually had dinner not too long ago,” you replied, pouring the Coke into the glasses. “Mum made teriyaki chicken and cheesy tteokbokki.”

He paused and looked over at you with mock betrayal. “Without me?”

"Well sorry but I'm actually her daughter. My mum doesn't need to feed for two kids."

“Tch.” He shook his head. “That’s cold, Y/n. Real cold.”

You handed him a glass and picked up a slice for yourself. “Relax. I can still manage two or three slices. It’s pizza... we make room.”

“That’s the one,” he said, raising his glass like a toast.

You clinked your glass gently against his without thinking, then took a sip.

For a few quiet minutes, the only sounds were the soft hum of the TV, the crinkle of pizza crust, and the shared silence between two people trying not to say everything they were actually thinking.

And as Jungkook scrolled aimlessly through the movie options, mumbling indecisively about rom-coms versus thrillers, you wondered if he was stalling. If maybe, like you, he didn’t want to rush into talking about that night.

Not yet.

Jungkook finally stopped scrolling, landing on some flashy action flick with explosions, car chases, and intense background music already playing in the trailer.

“Ooh,” he said, eyes lighting up. “This one’s got Michael B. Jordan. Heard it’s sick.”

You glanced at the title, fighting the urge to protest. Action wasn’t exactly your go-to, but… Michael B. Jordan was in it. And you weren’t in the mood to start a debate.

“Fine,” you said, biting into another slice. “But only because of him.”

Jungkook smirked knowingly as he hit play. “I mean, who doesn’t have a crush on him?”

You let out a small laugh. “Exactly."

The movie started, the opening scene loud and dramatic, but your focus drifted in and out. Not because it wasn’t good. But because sitting this close to Jungkook again after all that time was... disorienting. The space between you two felt physically small, but emotionally stretched. Like everything that hadn’t been said was sitting in that gap between you, unspoken and waiting.

As the movie played, the two of you exchanged casual commentary. Snarky one-liners, shared reactions when a twist hit, small laughs that softened the air.

“Okay, that was cool,” you muttered after one particularly clean fight sequence.

Jungkook nodded, mouth full of crust. “Right? The stunt work in this is crazy.”

You didn’t look at him when you spoke, and yet you could feel his presence beside you so acutely. It was like your body remembered this closeness even when your brain tried to play it off.

And what you didn’t notice or pretended not to, was how Jungkook kept sneaking glances your way.

They were brief. Almost too quick to catch. The kind of glances that happened in the in-between moments. When you laughed at something on screen, when you reached for another slice, when you tucked your hair behind your ear like you always used to do.

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize something.

Like he missed something.

Like maybe he was finally realizing just how long it had been.

But when you turned your head even slightly, he always looked away. Back to the movie, back to the screen, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position and curling one leg under the other, hugging your knees loosely to your chest. The buzz of the action scene played on, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness, to the way his knee occasionally brushed yours when he moved. Not intentional but not avoided either.

It was almost funny. How the two of you could sit there and pretend to be casual. Like your friendship hadn’t changed at all.

You reached for your Coke, taking a sip, eyes still on the screen.

And beside you, Jungkook smiled to himself. Not because of the movie.

But because you were still here.

And for once. Subconsciously, the bet was at the back of his mind.

The movie was still playing, but neither of you were really following it anymore. The sound of distant gunfire and dramatic dialogue had faded into background noise. Your half-finished glass of Coke sat forgotten on the coffee table, and the warmth of the pizza had long settled in your stomach.

Jungkook shifted beside you, just enough for you to notice.

And then, without looking directly at you, he murmured, “We should probably talk about it.”

You didn’t need to ask what it was. You already knew.

The silence stretched for a second. Maybe two.

Your stomach tightened, and instinctively, you looked away, pretending to focus on the screen. But nothing about the movie held your attention anymore. You drew in a slow breath, steadying yourself.

“Okay... let's talk,” you said, even though you didn’t need to say it out loud.

Jungkook finally turned to face you. His jaw was tense, his brows drawn together in that way they always were when he was working up the nerve to be honest.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That night. After Halmeoni.”

There was no hiding the shift in the room. The mood. The weight of memory.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he added, voice tight with regret. “Not when everything was so raw. Not when I didn’t even know what it meant for me yet.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your pants. “Yeah. You shouldn’t have.”

The words were sharper than you intended, but not untrue. That kiss had thrown you off balance. Stunned and shocked in a way you hadn't expected. Deep down, you thought he’d say something, explain himself. Instead, after you pulled away first, still trying to make sense of it all, you told him to just drive you home. And once you arrived, he handed you the keys without a word and walked back to his house, leaving you standing alone in the quiet aftermath.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I didn’t mean to mess things up between us.”

“You did, though.”

He looked down, jaw tightening. “I know.”

You sighed, the fight leaving your voice. “I get it, Jungkook. Things have been different. You’re at uni, trying to find your people. Make your own life. You don’t owe me anything.”

He looked up at you then, fast. “But I do. I do owe you something. I owe you more than disappearing on you like that. I owe you the truth.”

You stared at him, letting him speak this time.

“I’ve been acting like I don’t care. But I do. So much,” he said, voice low, shaking slightly with the weight of the admission. “Yes... I’ve been trying to fit in. Trying to keep up with everyone and everything. The guys I hang with, the late nights, the drinking, the parties... I thought if I threw myself into it hard enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about all the things I left behind.”

Your chest ached, but you said nothing.

He leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared down at the floor. “But I still think about you. Even when I don’t message. Even when I pretend not to notice you walking past me on campus. I still care, Y/n. That hasn’t changed.”

You swallowed hard, blinking quickly, your voice soft but steady. “Then why did it feel like I was the only one who did?”

Jungkook looked at you then and it was different. Not the careless glances from across campus corridors. Not the soft stares during movie nights when you were younger. But something that cracked him open just enough for you to see inside.

“I didn’t know how to be both,” he said. “The guy trying to figure out who he is... and the guy who still carries you with him everywhere.”

The room felt so quiet now.

Just the two of you and everything unsaid slowly unraveling between the lines.

Jungkook exhaled, slow and deliberate, like the next words took everything in him to form.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For everything. For pulling away. For confusing you. For not being the friend you deserved. I know I can’t take it back, but…” He paused, eyes locking with yours. “Can you forgive me?”

The question hung in the air, still and fragile.

Your heart tightened painfully, but you carefully masked it, refusing to let it show. And damn, this was exactly what you’d feared. No matter how much you convinced yourself you could stand your ground, Jungkook’s vulnerability cut straight through you.

“Jungkook,” you said, voice quiet but unwavering, “you can’t just come back with two boxes of pizza, flash that smile, and ask for forgiveness like nothing happened.”

He flinched, just slightly. But he nodded. “I know. I get it.”

You sat up straighter, meeting him head-on. “You hurt me. You ignored me. You forgot my damn birthday. Like it didn't matter. Like I didn't."

Sure, missing a birthday isn’t the end of the world. People forget things all the time. But this was different. This was part of the childhood you and Jungkook shared. The small moments that built everything between you. A milestone marking another year of growing up, side by side.

So yeah, him missing your twenty-first birthday was a big deal. A fucking big deal. So screw him.

Jungkook's expression cracked. Just a flicker of guilt and recognition before he dropped his gaze. “You’re right,” he murmured.

“I’m not going to forgive you just like that. You have to earn it,” you said, voice soft but firm. “I’m not going to pretend the past few months didn’t happen. I’m not going to pretend you didn’t change.”

He looked at you again, and this time, something steadier lived behind his eyes. “Then let me try. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

You opened your mouth, unsure what to say, but he cut in gently.

“Maybe we can’t go back to the way things were. Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said, shoulders relaxing slightly. “But what if we start again? Still be friends, but… not like before. No pretending. No lies. Just… moving forward. Together. Making new memories that don’t feel so heavy.”

You stared at him, a swirl of emotions gathering just beneath the surface. There was still hurt. Still doubt. Still all the pieces of you he hadn’t shown up for.

But there was also the boy who used to know you better than anyone.

You took a breath. “If we’re going to be friends again. It has to be honest. And I’m not going to carry it all alone anymore.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t smug. It was grateful.

“Then I’ll be honest. And I’ll show up,” he said.

You nodded once, slowly. “Okay. We’ll see.”

He reached for another slice of pizza, eyes still flickering toward you, this time without guilt. Just quiet hope.

Outside, the sky had gotten darker, but the space between you and him… felt a little more open.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was the same night Jungkook and his parents were going next door for dinner with your family. But Jungkook lay sprawled on his unmade bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other holding his phone above him, the dim light casting soft shadows on the ceiling.

The group chat was muted, but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances. The flood of messages was exactly what he expected:

Taehyung: yo you guys should check out nayeon's thirst trap on insta Hoseok: fuck i saw that aye. she's gorgeous or should i say... jugs are gorgeous hahaha Jin-hyung: anyone actually studying? lmao Yoongi: let’s get lit next week. I need to black out or drop out. either’s fine at this point. Taehyung: jungkookie, u alive or what? u been ghostin us harder than my dad Namjoon: bet’s still a go right? or did golden boy catch feelings

He locked his phone then, jaw clenched, face blank. He hated that it still got to him. The way they talked about you like you were just another game. And worse, that he hadn’t shut it down from the start. He could still hear your voice in the car after the kiss. “You don’t get to do that.” Like you’d finally seen right through him.

He tossed the phone aside with a groan, covering his face. His chest felt tight ever since that night. Guilty, restless, like no distraction could quiet the ache. And the worst part? The loud music and laughter you’d been hearing through your bedroom wall? That was on purpose.

He turned the volume up knowing you could hear it. Let the bass rattle the silence between you. It was stupid. Immature. But if he couldn’t say what he felt, maybe he could make enough noise to hide from it.

Or maybe, he was hoping you'd hear it and care.

Then a soft buzz.

One new message. Not from the group. But from Jimin.

[Jimin]: yo. u good? been quiet. just checking in. lmk if u need anything

Jungkook stared at it. Didn’t open it. Didn’t reply. But he didn’t look away either.

Then the phone lit up again. Jimin was calling.

One ring. Two. Three.

With a sigh, Jungkook dragged the phone to his ear, answering without a word.

“Bro,” Jimin’s voice came through. It sounded tired but kind. “You gonna keep ghosting me too or what?”

The silence stretched.

“How’s your break going?” Jimin tried again, softer now, like he wasn’t sure how much to push. “I just wanna know if you’re okay. I know when you go quiet, it’s not nothing.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, knuckles brushing his temple. He let out a breath that barely passed as a response. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to go through with the bet, you know,” Jimin said gently. “You know how the guys are. Especially Namjoon and Hoseok... they talk big but half the time they're just trying to get under your skin.”

Jungkook scoffed quietly, exhaling through his nose. “It’s whatever. I don’t care.”

Jimin paused. That answer didn’t sit right.

“Yeah,” he said carefully, “but I know you.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, eyes narrowing at the ceiling.

“You’re reckless, sure,” Jimin went on, tone lighter but still firm. “You pick fights. You party too hard. You kiss girls you shouldn’t sometimes. But you’re not… cruel, Jungkook.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.

Jimin’s voice dipped lower, more hesitant. “You wouldn’t hurt her just to win something stupid. Not Y/n.”

No answer.

That silence said more than denial ever could.

Jimin let it hang a moment before pressing on. “I’m not saying you have to confess or blow it all up or whatever. But don’t sit there like none of it matters. I saw your face that night. You shut the whole table down when the guys joked about her. Hell, you wouldn’t even let Hoseok shoot his shot.”

That struck. Hard.

Jungkook sat up abruptly, elbows digging into his knees, palm dragging down his face. The pressure behind his eyes was dull but relentless.

“Then what does that say about you, huh?” he asked, voice rough, words coming out before he could stop them.

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“If you know I’m not like that... If you see that, then why’d you bring me around them in the first place?” Jungkook’s voice wasn’t angry, but there was weight behind it. “And why are you still hanging around like it’s all fine? Why are they even your friends, Jimin?”

He paused, words tightening in his throat before spilling out softer, but no less pointed. “Come to think of it… I’ve never even seen you act like them. Not once.”

There was a pause on the other end. Jimin didn’t answer right away.

“They’re my brothers,” he said eventually, voice quiet. “I grew up with most of them. High school, dorms, hell, and Namjoon... he's practically like an older brother to me.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh. “So what, that means you just look the other way?”

“No,” Jimin replied, more firmly now. “I pick my battles. I speak up when it matters. Like right now.”

Jungkook blinked.

“I know they joke like it’s all just for fun. But I also know when something’s eating at you,” Jimin continued. “And this? Whatever it is… it’s getting to you.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Because Jimin already knew.

“You care about her,” Jimin said softly. “You can lie to them, but you don’t have to lie to me.”

Jungkook stared at the floor, fingers curling around the edge of his hoodie.

He wanted to argue. To deny. To shut it all down.

But he didn’t.

Because for the first time in days, someone wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t treating it like a bet.

Someone actually saw him.

And that, somehow, made everything harder to ignore.

“Look, man,” Jimin said, voice steady, “you’re lucky to have a best friend like Y/n. A childhood friend, someone who knows you inside and out, sees past the noise. Not everyone gets that. Most people don’t get it at all.”

There was a pause, heavy but sincere.

“Whatever you do… don’t fuck it up. You’re the one who gets to choose what kind of person you want to be. Don’t lose her and don’t lose yourself.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, the words sinking deep.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” Jimin added quietly. “You already know how I feel. You care about her. You always have, even when you were trying not to. That’s obvious.”

Jungkook stared at the phone like it might answer for him.

“But this is your choice, Jungkook,” Jimin said firmly. “No one else’s. Not mine. Not Namjoon’s. Not the group. Just yours.”

Jungkook’s chest ached less than before. This was what he needed to hear. Not to fix him, not to judge him, but to remind him he still had time.

Time to choose.

Between his pride… and you.

Jungkook helped clear the coffee table, stacking empty glasses and gathering the stray napkins left behind. He didn’t say much, just moved with a quiet ease. Like this wasn’t the first time in a long time that it was just the two of you again. He took the pizza boxes out to the bin, brushing past you with a faint “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, you were already curled up on one side of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, your phone resting idly in your hand. Jungkook dropped down on the opposite end, leaving a respectable space between you both. Comfortable, but cautious.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you, “how’s uni going? Still dying over those research papers?”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve got one due next week, and my brain just isn’t braining.”

He smiled, the kind that softened the sharp edges of him. “What’s it on?”

“Marketing psychology. How consumer behaviour’s influenced by social proof. It’s interesting but I don’t know... something about the angle I’m taking just feels off.”

Jungkook leaned back slightly, arm resting along the back of the couch. “You want help with it?”

You glanced at him. “You don't take marketing. And there’s no need... I’ve got it.”

“But I want to,” he replied, voice gentle but steady. “If you’re stuck, I could at least look over your outline or something.”

You met his eyes, something wary curling in your chest. “Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother,” he said, a bit more firmly this time. “Come on. Just let me help, even if I don't take marketing or may not understand, but who knows.”

You looked at him for a beat, reading the sincerity in his face, the way his expression held no trace of obligation. Just that quiet insistence of someone who still knew you too well.

“…Okay,” you said finally, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, satisfied smile.

You stood from the couch, stretching slightly before turning on your heel and heading toward the stairs without saying much.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you, his brows knitting in quiet confusion. “Wait... where are you going?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, one foot already on the bottom step. “To study,” you said, your voice steady but edged with something unreadable. “You said you’d help, didn’t you? Or was that just you being nice?”

There was a flicker in his expression. Something between surprise and amusement. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees before rising to his feet. “No, I meant it,” he said, his tone softer now.

You gave a small nod and turned, continuing up the stairs. He followed, the air between you both still thick. But there was something else there too... familiarity settling back in like muscle memory.

By the time you reached your room and flicked the light on, it wasn’t comfortable, not quite. But it wasn’t awkward anymore either. Just two people figuring out how to be in the same space again, quietly navigating the in-between.

Jungkook stood silently at the doorway, taking in the familiar warmth of your room. Through your window, he caught a faint glimpse of his own bedroom across the way. A subtle reminder of how intertwined your lives are or had been. Your childhood space looked nearly the same. The same soft-toned walls, the same bookshelf stacked with stories and secrets. But now, your desk was cluttered with scattered uni papers and an overworked laptop plastered with half-faded stickers. A remnants of a different kind of growing up. A few bags lay by the door, clothes and things for had brought with you for the semester break. Everything around him felt like a snapshot of your life. The past, present, real, and lived-in.

And just like that, Jungkook was in your world again. The air held a kind of intimacy. This was the room where you once let him see you for the first time. Not just in the way of laughter and childhood secrets, but in the way skin met skin, and silence meant more than words. Where childhood faded into something tender and complicated. Where secrets were whispered under the covers and teenage hearts beat just a little too fast.

Where the lights were dim, breaths uneven, and everything change. Even if no one dared to say it out loud.

His eyes drifted across your shelves, and then, they landed on something small and familiar tucked behind a candle and a pen holder. It was a worn photobooth strip. He reached for it without thinking, gently sliding it out.

It was the two of you. About twelve years old, grinning wide with chocolate-stained mouths, hair windblown from the amusement park rides. One frame was blurry, the second was of you flashing peace signs, and the last… he remembered it clearly. You were hugging him, both of you laughing so hard your faces were scrunched up.

That day, you’d gotten separated from your parents for nearly an hour. Maybe they were distracted, or maybe Jungkook had just wandered off like the curious kid he was. And you, naturally, had followed. You were panicked, teary-eyed, and scared, but he’d held your hand the entire time until the staff found your parents.

You didn’t let go of his hand for the whole car ride home.

He held the photo up, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

You looked up and instantly tensed. Without a word, you reached out and snatched it from his hands, shoving it back onto the shelf, half-buried again.

“I’m surprised I do,” you muttered under your breath. “Should’ve thrown it out a long time ago.”

The words hit harder than you intended, and you saw it in the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, the light in his eyes dimming just slightly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly, the softness gone from his voice now. “Don’t act like it meant nothing.”

You didn’t respond right away. The silence pressed in thick, almost suffocating.

“I’m not saying it meant nothing,” you said finally, your voice tight. “I’m saying I don’t know what it means anymore.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long moment. Not just looking but searching. For understanding, for something to hold onto. But whatever he was hoping to find wasn’t there. Not yet. You letting him up into you room. Your space. This was good.

He looked at the photo, now half-buried on the shelf like a memory you weren’t ready to hold, then back at you. And in that quiet second, something settled in him. An unspoken reckoning.

Stop digging through the ashes, he told himself. Start planting something different.

If he wanted to be in your life again. It couldn’t be through nostalgia or guilt. It couldn’t be about reaching into the past and hoping you'd meet him there. You deserved more than that.

He took a slow breath, grounding himself.

If he wanted a place beside you now, he had to earn it. Patiently. Genuinely. Not with apologies or half-measures, but with presence. With consistency. By showing up for the version of you that stood here today, not the one he left behind.

No shortcuts. No rewinds.

Just small steps forward, steady and sure

Now, he looked at you and saw not the girl he once knew, but a woman. Radiant, grounded, quietly strong. A grown version of Y/n he’d been lucky enough to grow up alongside. But the thought hit him. Could you say the same about him?

Was he someone worth growing up with?

Fuck no, he thought bitterly. He wasn’t the same. Neither of you were, but while you had evolved, found direction, he had become someone else entirely. An ego-driven, impulsive mess. Caught up in his own pride, his own shit choices. Maybe it wasn’t the crowd around him, maybe it wasn’t even the noise of growing up. Maybe the problem was just… him.

Then your voice cut through his spiral, grounding him like it always did.

You pulled out the chair at your desk, flipping open your laptop and motioning toward the mess of half-scribbled notes and open tabs.

“Okay, genius,” you muttered, not even sparing him a glance, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle as he closed the door halfway and pull a small cushion pink extra chair you had. Jungkook sat down beside you, his shoulder a safe distance from yours, close enough to feel his presence but not so close that it crossed any lines. He glanced at the screen, then at the scattered notes, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh.

“So this is your outline?” he asked, reaching for one of the pages. His voice was neutral and careful, like he didn’t want to disrupt whatever fragile comfort had settled between you both.

You nodded, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m trying to build a case around how social proof affects buyer confidence, but it’s feeling kind of flat. Like I’m stating the obvious, you know?”

He scanned the page in silence, eyes moving quickly as he took in your scribbles and bullet points. “I mean… you’ve got the structure down. Maybe it just needs a stronger hook. Something a little more personal to tie it together?”

You glanced at him. “Like an anecdote?”

“Exactly. Something relatable. I know that you always had a way of making theory feel… grounded.”

You looked away at that, eyes flickering toward your laptop as you tried not to react to the unexpected compliment. The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… present.

“Okay,” you murmured, tapping the trackpad. “So say I talk about online reviews. That moment when you’re about to buy something but you hesitate until you see a five-star review from a stranger.”

Jungkook leaned in slightly, nodding. “Yeah. Or even something simple. Like going to a new restaurant just because it’s always full. That’s social proof too.”

You clicked your tongue, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Okay that's a good one, I'll put that down."

Time passed quietly.

It was just focused, steady, full of pencil scratches, keyboard clicks, and the occasional back-and-forth about your topic. You didn’t expect it to go this well. As for Jungkook, for all his cockiness and unpredictability had a mind that knew how to connect dots. How to pull abstract ideas into something clear and grounded. His insight was sharp, his perspective surprisingly thoughtful. He asked questions that made you pause, reframe, rethink.

You found yourself in awe because this is someone who majors in film, not marketing. He had no formal background in this, but still he somehow saw things you didn't. At one point, you caught yourself just watching him. Focused. Leaning over your screen, fingers tapping against his lip as he read through your points.

Something fluttered in your chest. A dull ache... and the occasional butterfly in your stomach you tried to ignore. Because this wasn’t supposed to feel like anything. You weren’t supposed to feel anything.

But it was hard not to, sitting here beside him like this. Close but not touching, breathing the same air, working in quiet sync like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook, had never really left... that he’d been here all along.

By the time you closed your laptop with a soft sigh of relief, the clock on your bedside table blinked 8:03 PM. Outside, the moon hung low in the night sky, its pale light filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow across your room. You rubbed your temples and leaned back in your chair, shoulders aching but heart lighter than it had been all week.

“Well,” you murmured, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “I guess I owe you one.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back on his hands. “Guess you do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, too late,” he grinned, and for a second, it felt like he was still the boy who used to copy your homework just to spend more time with you.

You stared at him a beat too long before looking away, standing to stretch your legs. You could feel his eyes on you, still soft, still searching.

The truth was, you wanted to believe that this version of Jungkook, the one who was helpful, present, almost gentle, was the real one. Or at least the one that was here to stay.

But somewhere deep inside, a small, persistent voice echoed. Maybe it was Hana's again. Be careful.

And you weren’t sure why. Or maybe you were. Maybe it was the history. The familiarity. The patterns. The way he could pull you in with a look, a joke, a memory. Only to vanish behind that familiar wall of ego once university resumed. To slip back into the embrace of his crowd, the endless parties, the hollow validation he breathed in like oxygen.

You didn’t want to feed into it. You didn’t want to be the girl who got too hopeful, too soon.

So instead, you leaned against your desk and crossed your arms casually, tossing him a smirk that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, don’t expect a thank-you parade or anything. I’ll mention you in the footnotes, maybe. Small font.”

Jungkook chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair, but something in his expression faltered. Like he could feel the distance you were keeping. Like he knew exactly what you were doing and maybe even why.

Still, he didn’t push.

And neither did you.

Because this version of things was safe. And that little voice inside your head wasn’t wrong to be cautious. After all, once you were back at uni, who’s to say he wouldn’t go right back to being that guy? The jock with the smirk and the swagger, the one who always left you second-guessing where you stood.

So you tucked that voice away, but not too deep.

Just far enough to enjoy this moment without breaking your own heart over it.

Jungkook shifted slightly in the chair, the silence between you both stretching.

“So…” he began, voice a little softer now.

“Would you maybe be keen to help me with my film theory paper sometime?”

You turned to glance at him, one brow raised.

“I figured since I just saved your grade, maybe you could return the favour,” he added quickly, eyes flicking to yours with a cautious smile. “Or… if not that, maybe you’d want to see what I’ve been working on? Just... I don’t know. No pressure.”

It caught you off guard. Not just the request, but the vulnerability tucked behind it. As if he didn’t just want your help. As if he wanted to show you something. A piece of his world. Let you in.

But before the words could leave your mouth. The front door opened downstairs, followed by the familiar sound of your mum’s voice calling out, “Y/n? We’re home!”

You blinked, straightening. “Oh! mum and dad are back,” you said, glancing toward the doorway as you rose from your seat.

Jungkook nodded and stood too, slower this time, brushing his hands down the front of his pants.

You followed the familiar voices into the kitchen, Jungkook just behind you. Your mum was unpacking a small tote bag while your dad sorted through takeaway containers on the bench.

“How was comedy night?” you asked, leaning casually against the wall, trying not to look like your heart had been racing a little ever since you stepped downstairs.

Your mum looked up with a grin. “Hilarious. Honestly, I haven't laughed that hard in ages.”

“Except when you tripped on the steps during intermission,” your dad added with a chuckle.

“Oh, hush!” she swatted at him playfully before turning to Jungkook. “Your mum, by the way, had the best time. I swear she was wiping tears the entire show.”

Jungkook’s smile widened. “Sounds like her. She would’ve been in her element. She’s got the loudest laugh in any room.”

Your mum nodded, pointing a finger at him. “Oh, she did! And honestly? I think she laughed way more tonight than she ever has at your dad’s jokes.”

Everyone laughed at that. Even your dad, who threw his hands up in faux surrender. “Brutal.”

You found yourself watching Jungkook again. The way he blended so effortlessly into your home, your family.

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth chatter about the show, the parking, your mum’s snack hoarding. Jungkook shifted his weight and cleared his throat gently.

“I should probably head back,” he said, glancing at the time on the microwave. "Really enjoyed tonight." Jungkook says more to you.

Your parents both waved him off warmly.

“Alright son.” your dad said.

“Thanks again Jungkook” your mum added.

Jungkook smiled and looked at you, eyes warm. “Bye, Y/n,” he said, then paused just a second longer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You blinked. “Tomorrow?”

He raised a brow, amused. “Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party? The errands? Your mum said you and I are in charge of the list.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. Your mum had mentioned that to you today.

“Oh... yeah,” you nodded quickly, recovering. “Of course. Tomorrow."

Jungkook gave you a crooked grin at your awkwardness before bending down to put his shoes back on near the front door. Your parents had wandered off to the living room by then, leaving just the two of you again.

He opened the front door, stepping one foot onto the porch. Then suddenly stopped as you called out, “Wait!”

You stepped forward, reaching for his arm without thinking. Your fingers curled around his sleeve, stopping him in place.

He turned back slowly, eyes searching yours, and you knew he could feel it. The heat rising off your skin, the way your touch lingered, hesitant and unsure. The night air felt cooler in contrast to the warmth pulsing between your hand and his arm.

He didn’t speak. Just waited patiently.

“I’ll help you,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“With the film theory stuff,” you clarified, eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “I’ll help.”

A flicker of something soft passed through his expression. Jungkook gave you a quiet nod, the corners of his lips tugging up into a small smile.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, voice lower now. “Really.”

You let go of his sleeve slowly.

“Good night, Y/n.”

And with that, he stepped off the porch and into the quiet evening, hands in his pockets, smile still lingering, and you stood there for a moment longer, the imprint of his presence still pressed into the air around you.

You walked back inside slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The house was calm now, your parents now probably in their room, calling it a night.

You headed upstairs, your room exactly as you left it. Laptop open, notes scattered, that damn photobooth strip still half-tucked behind the candle. You paused in front of it, chewing your bottom lip before slowly pulling it out again. The faces in the photo smiled up at you, frozen in a moment that felt both impossibly far and painfully close.

You sighed.

You wanted to believe in second chances. You really did.

But as you set the photo down again. Not hiding it this time, just letting it sit there, exposed. And just as you were about to step away from your desk, your phone suddenly buzzed.

This time, the message preview made your stomach drop and flutter.

[Jungkook]: You should probably close your curtains unless you actually want me to see you

You froze mid-step, eyes widening. Slowly, instinctively, you glanced toward your window. And sure enough, across the way, Jungkook was standing at his bedroom window, phone in hand, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He gave a small wave, smug and warm, the kind that screamed gotcha.

You rolled your eyes, flustered but smiling despite yourself. Your fingers hovered over your screen before you started typing back.

[You]: Goodnight, creep.

You hit send and watched as he read it almost immediately. He didn’t reply back but you caught his slight nod through the glass before he pulled his curtains closed.

You drew your own curtains shut slowly, the quiet click echoing in the room. The tension lingered, heavy and unresolved but somehow, it was exactly where it needed to be.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was a Friday night when Jungkook invited you to meet some of the guys he'd been out with more lately. From your knowledge and from what Jungkook had mentioned to you. Two of them also major in film and the others from either Hospitality Management, Communications, Health Science and Performing Arts. Over time, Jungkook had gradually made his way into the frat scene. He started hanging out and studying with them more often, eventually moving into a shared house just off campus. The kind of place where every surface felt a little sticky and the music never really stopped, even on weeknights.

You had hesitated.

This wasn’t your scene. And more than that, these weren’t your people. You knew it the second Jungkook described them with that offhand, casual tone. Like he was trying not to sound like he cared too much about fitting in with them. Like maybe he already did.

But still, you went. Because he asked. Because part of you wanted to understand this new world he was drifting toward. The one that seemed to pull him further away from you each week.

When you arrived, the place was buzzing. Music thumped through the walls, people you didn’t recognize moved in and out of rooms like currents, red solo cups in hand, someone shouting over a beer pong table in the back. It was far from the quiet hangouts you were used to with Jungkook. This wasn’t his bedroom, or your porch swing, or even his car with the windows down and some soft R&B playing. This was his world now, or at least the one he chose to show you tonight.

Jungkook led you in, hand briefly brushing yours. Not enough to hold, but enough to steady you. Like old times.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “They’re chill.”

You gave a tight nod, trying to suppress the rising awkwardness as he brought you to the group sprawled across the couches.

“Yo,” Jungkook called out. “This is her. My good friend, Y/n.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking between you and the guys. “We’ve known each other forever.”

A scattered chorus of hellos followed, laced with low chuckles and exchanged glances. You noticed Namjoon eyeing you with mild curiosity before lifting his drink in a lazy toast.

Jin, already tipsy, leaned forward with a lopsided grin. “This Kook’s girl? Damn, no wonder he dips early sometimes. She’s cute.”

Jungkook laughed it off, shaking his head. “She’s like my little sister. Practically family.”

Your stomach turned a little. Little sister wasn’t the label you expected or wanted. But you kept your smile in place, even as your chest tightened.

Then came him. Hoseok, all charm and mischief, sauntering in from the kitchen with a beer in hand and an easy smile stretched across his face.

“Ah,” he said, eyes landing on you like he’d just discovered something interesting. “So this is the famous Y/n”

“Famous?” you echoed, unsure.

Jungkook chuckled nervously. “They’ve just heard me mention you, that’s all.”

Throughout the night, you stuck close to Jungkook’s side as he navigated through the crowd, stopping now and then to introduce you. And then you met Jimin.

You’d only heard a little about Jimin from Jungkook.

Jungkook had mentioned him offhandedly. Just a guy he met at a club event, someone who quickly became part of his inner circle. He didn’t say much beyond “Jimin’s cool. We just clicked, I guess.” But the way Jungkook spoke about him, with an ease he rarely used for new people, made you curious. You were happy for him. Genuinely. Especially knowing how selective he could be about who he let close. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised. This was Jungkook now. Frat mode activated, surrounded by a crew of wildly different personalities, and somehow fitting right in.

Jimin was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, radiating warmth with that easy smile of his. When Jungkook introduced you. “Yo Jimin, this is Y/n."

You noticed the flicker in Jimin’s eyes. He stepped forward, offering his hand with that easy charm. “Hey, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin."

You blinked, a little thrown by how warm he seemed, and how intently he was looking at you. “Yeah… I’ve heard some things about you.”

His smile tugged wider, just bordering on playful. “Good things, right?”

You shrugged, half-teasing. “Guess that depends on who’s telling the story.”

Jungkook let out a short laugh beside you, rubbing the back of his neck again like he always did when things edged toward awkward or interesting.

Jimin laughed, stepping closer. "And same here, Jungkook talks about you all the time."

“Really? like what?” you asked, curious.

He grinned. “I'll say it's confidential. But don't worry Jungkook speaks of good things."

You laughed, a little flustered. “I hope he does.”

Just then, Jungkook leaned toward you, gently touching your arm. “I’ll be right back. Just gotta take care of something upstairs,” he said, nodding in that direction.

You hesitated, unsure whether you really wanted to be left alone in a room full of mostly strangers. But before you could say anything, Jimin caught the shift in your expression.

“I got you,” he said easily. “Promise. You won’t even notice he’s gone.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel just a little more at ease.

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook said, giving Jimin a quick nod before moving his way past people and heading upstairs.

With him gone, the atmosphere subtly shifted. Less pressure, more ease. Jimin had a way of pulling you into conversation so naturally that before long, the awkwardness faded. The vibe turned playful, the exchange of words coming without effort. Still, your mind drifted now and then, eyes flicking toward the stairs to check if Jungkook was coming back.

But as the minutes passed, you found yourself relaxing. Jimin was good company. Surprisingly so.

“A myth?” you echoed, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Jimin nodded, eyes playful. “Like this mysterious best friend he’s known forever who ‘just gets him’ and ‘knows too much.’ Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you were real or a ghost from his past.”

You smirked. “I guess I’m real enough.”

He offered you a drink, which you politely declined, and then leaned against the counter beside you, still clearly intrigued.

“So… childhood best friends, huh? That’s wild. How far back are we talking?”

You smiled. “Since babies. Our moms were friends before we were even born. We kind of… grew up side by side.”

Jimin let out a soft, impressed whistle. “Damn. That’s something else.”

“It is,” you nodded, your voice a little softer now. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Jimin turned slightly to face you, genuinely curious. “That kind of connection… I love that. Someone who just knows you. Your moods, your weird habits, your history. That kind of constant. It’s rare.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “You never had that growing up?”

He shook his head. “Moved around too much. Friends came and went. Made great ones, sure but nothing that stuck like that. Nothing… unconditional.”

The air between you settled into something quieter, more thoughtful. You felt him watching you, not in a way that made you uncomfortable, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“You and Jungkook ever…?” he started, then hesitated.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ever what?”

He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, that’s probably nosy. I just... Jungkook’s talked about you like you’re this constant in his life. I was just curious.”

You glanced across the room, where Jungkook stood talking to someone, though his eyes occasionally flicked over to you.

“It’s complicated,” you said finally. “We’ve always been close. But I don't ever picture going further with him. We are like family." You lied, well partly lied.

Jimin nodded slowly, taking that in. “That makes sense. Still… it must be hard. Being so close to someone for so long and never really knowing what could’ve been.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t have to.

He saw the answer in your eyes.

Before he could say more, Jungkook reappeared at your side, arm brushing yours as he leaned in. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just talking.”

Jimin gave Jungkook a friendly smile. “She’s great, man. You didn’t tell me your best friend was this interesting.”

Jungkook gave a small smirk, eyes lingering on you for a beat too long. “She’s a lot of things.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a warning. Maybe both.

And just like that, the quiet moment with Jimin dissolved back into the noise of the party. But something had changed. You could feel it. For Jimin, maybe it was finally being able to put a name and a story, to the girl behind all the mentions. And for you, it was a flicker of something unexpected.

And for Jungkook… well, maybe noticing Jimin’s attention, leaned down to you and asked, “Wanna go upstairs? I wanna show you my room.”

You gave Jimin a small smile and excused yourself, following Jungkook up the stairs with a curious kind of comfort tugging at your chest.

His door was slightly ajar when you reached it, and you hesitated for just a second before pushing it open.

This was probably what he’d been doing up here. Tidying up. Resetting the space a little. The faint scent of clean linen lingered in the air, and the trash bin was newly empty. His bed was made, sheets pulled tight like it was something he rarely did but felt like doing tonight, just because you were here.

His room wasn’t anything special, it very him. But it was quiet, familiar in its own way, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were back in your own little world again.

It stopped you at the door.

The lighting was soft, almost dreamy. Purple LED strips lined the top shelf and cast a glow over the whole space, painting everything in a wash of calm lavender. It made the white of his plain tee look crisper. The corners of the room felt tucked away from the world, safe.

The bed was low and made, with dark sheets and a single hoodie draped over the back of his chair. A tangle of earbuds peeked from beneath a pillow. And on the wall above the headboard, LED stars were pinned like constellations. A little soft. A little romantic. Like him. And it felt strangely intimate to be standing in the middle of it.

Your eyes drifted to the shelf beside his desk, where the purple LED glow softly illuminated a small, silver picture frame. It was tilted slightly, like it had been picked up and put back down more than once. You stepped closer.

It was a photo of you and Jungkook. Years ago. The two of you maybe thirteen, maybe even younger. You were both barefoot in the grass, sun in your eyes, your arm slung lazily around his shoulders, his grin wide and boyish, two teeth slightly crooked before braces straightened them out. Your head was tilted toward him, like gravity had always pulled you in that direction.

You stared at it.

And suddenly, the quiet in the room felt heavier. Not peaceful. Not warm.

Just quiet.

Because when was the last time you felt like that with him? Like his gravity hadn’t faltered? When was the last time he laughed with you like you were still the most familiar part of his day?

You didn’t notice he’d moved until he was right beside you, gaze locked not on the photo, but on your expression.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You didn’t answer. Just stepped back slightly, arms crossed loosely over your chest. The weight of the past few weeks. Him not showing up, his dry one-word replies, settled between you like fog.

He saw it now. You watched him realize it.

Jungkook reached out slowly and took your hand.

You blinked, startled at the sudden gentleness.

“Come here,” he murmured.

He led you to the edge of his bed and sat down with you, his fingers still wrapped loosely around yours. You didn’t pull away. You just… waited.

He exhaled hard through his nose, staring down at your intertwined hands like they were something breakable.

“I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. “For the past few weeks. For being distant. For leaving you on seen. For acting like I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

You didn’t say anything, and it made him press on.

“I didn’t mean to disappear. I just... I don’t know. Everything’s been moving so fast lately. New people. New expectations. And I guess I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought I could juggle it all. I thought maybe you didn’t need me the way you used to.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

And he looked lost in the kind of way only someone you’ve known your whole life could look.

“That’s the thing, Jungkook,” you said quietly.

He swallowed hard, thumb brushing against your knuckles like muscle memory.

“I miss you,” you said. "I just miss my best friend. I just needed you to show up.... I mean you could've communicated better."

Jungkook wanted to say that he misses you too. God, he did. But his throat felt tight, caught between regret and something unspoken that hung in the air like fog.

Instead, he just nodded, once. You both sat there, side by side on the edge of his bed, your hands still tangled loosely like old routines you didn’t know you missed until they came back.

For a moment, it felt okay again.

Not fixed.

But… okay.

That is, until the door burst open without warning.

“Yo!”

Loud laughter and heavy footsteps flooded in as Hoseok and Taehyung barged in, completely oblivious to the shift they’d just shattered.

“Damn, Kook!” Hoseok grinned, not even pretending to be apologetic as he flopped into Jungkook’s desk chair like it was his own. “Didn’t think you were bringing your girl up here already.”

Taehyung whistled low under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. “We interrupting something?”

Jungkook shot them both a flat look, clearly not in the mood for their timing. “Can you not?”

But Hoseok just smirked, spinning slowly in the chair. “Relax, man. You could’ve just put a sock on the door or something.”

Taehyung grinned at you, a little sheepish. “Hey Y/n, hope you're enjoying the party so far.”

You offered a tight smile, trying to pretend your hand hadn’t just been in Jungkook’s. Slowly, you pulled it back into your lap.

Jungkook noticed.

And even through the interruption, the noise, the teasing. His eyes didn’t leave you.

Hoseok leaned back in Jungkook’s chair, arms behind his head like he was settling in for a show. “Anyway,” he said, smirking like he knew exactly what kind of moment he’d walked in on, “you two should come downstairs. Namjoon’s been pacing around like he’s hosting a TED Talk and no one’s listening.”

Taehyung laughed. “Yeah, he’s already asked where you were like… three times.”

Hoseok grinned wider, adding, “Don’t want to make him jealous now, Kook. You’ve got your favorite girl up here, and poor Joon’s left babysitting the beer pong table alone.”

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But endearing,” Hoseok said brightly.

“You wish.”

You tried to hide the smile tugging at your lips, but it was hard. The shift in mood was jarring, but maybe needed. You could still feel the weight of what had been said between you and Jungkook lingering like warmth in the air… but it didn’t feel like it had been erased. Just… shelved for now.

Taehyung tilted his head toward you. “You coming?”

You glanced at Jungkook, unsure if you should stay or give him space. But he caught your eye and gave you the smallest nod. Like he was saying Don’t go just yet. Not like that.

So you stood. Smoothed your hands over your jeans and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Jungkook got up too, his hand brushing the small of your back for a second. So quick it could’ve been nothing, but you felt it anyway.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

The four of you filed out of the room, and as you reached the top of the stairs, Jungkook leaned a little closer, voice low, just for you.

“We’ll talk more later,” he said. “Promise.”

You looked at him, heart doing that familiar ache again.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And somehow… you believed him.

Eventually, all of you headed back downstairs. Jimin was nowhere to be found. But even in the chaos, being by Jungkook’s side again after days of him pulling away gave you a sliver of happiness. You tried to hold onto that.

The boys were all talking over each other. Namjoon throwing out a plan for Korean BBQ after class tomorrow, Taehyung already texting someone to reserve a table. Hoseok started talking about some girl he’d hooked up with last week, and the conversation veered toward crude jokes and casual bragging. You didn’t say much. You were starting to feel out of place.

That’s when you noticed it.

Jungkook, who, you’d say, normally thrived in this chaos, usually loud and quick with comebacks seemed… distant. His laugh was a second too late. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. And every now and then, you caught him staring off at nothing.

It was subtle. But you saw it. And it made your stomach stir.

And then Hoseok leaned over, voice just loud enough to cut through the din. “Yo, you mind if I get a pass?”

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“You know… with Y/n.” Hoseok jerked his chin toward you. “She’s hot. I’d fuck her.”

At first, you didn’t register it. The background noise blurred it out. But when you saw Hoseok’s eyes land on you, that smirk curling at the edges of his mouth, it hit you. The words slammed into your chest, knocking the air from your lungs.

And Jungkook?

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even hesitate.

He just shrugged. “By all means.”

The group roared with laughter, the sound swallowing everything. But not for you. For you, time stopped.

You stood there, frozen.

What? you breathed, the word barely forming on your lips.

You turned to him, waiting desperately for something. A joke. A correction. An apology. A flicker of the person who just stood next to you upstairs, who said Promise.

But he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t even look at you.

And you… you were too stunned to speak. Too stunned to even fathom how fast he had switched up. How the boy who made his room feel like home moments ago could reduce you to a punchline like it meant nothing.

Like you meant nothing.

You didn’t want to scream or cause a scene, but the curse words spilled out faster than your mind could keep up with. Your chest burned and your throat tightened as you turned away, weaving through the crowd, desperate to hold back tears. You just needed to get out.

And just as you reached the door, weaving through strangers, a hand gently but firmly grabbed your arm.

It was Jimin.

He looked surprised at first, like he hadn’t expected to catch you leaving so soon. “Hey,” he said, a half-smile on his lips. “Already heading out?”

Then he saw your face. The smile dropped. “Hey… are you okay?”

You couldn’t look at him. Not at first. But eventually, you met his eyes, and he looked so concerned, so sincere, that you had to answer. “Yeah,” you lied. “Just getting late. I’ve got an early class.”

He didn’t believe you, you could tell. But he didn’t press. “It was nice finally meeting you,” he said softly.

“Likewise,” you murmured, your voice small.

You slipped out the door before the tears could break free, the cool night air hitting your face like a shock as you tried to steady your breathing. The ache in your chest was raw, threatening to spill over, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to move forward.

Behind you, Jimin made his way back to the group, slipping into the familiar chaos.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Taehyung grinned, slinging an arm around Jimin’s shoulder. “You missed Hoseok’s thirsty ass.”

Jimin raised a brow. “What happened?”

“Hobi thought Y/n was cute,” Taehyung snorted. “Asked if he could hit.”

“What?” Jimin blinked.

“Yeah,” Taehyung laughed harder, clearly buzzed. “Well Kook didn’t even care. Seems like he doesn’t really care for her as much as he says he does.”

Jimin’s smile didn’t return.

His gaze slid across the room until it landed on Jungkook, who was slouched deep into the couch like he wanted to disappear. One leg bouncing. Cup in hand. Not drinking. Not talking. Just... elsewhere.

Avoiding eye contact. With himself. With everyone.

Jimin watched him quietly, head tilting slightly.

He and Jungkook were just two years apart, but sometimes it felt like more. Still, somewhere along the way, maybe between club events or late-night cramming. He started thinking of Jungkook as someone solid. A little brother, who at time can be annoying, impulsive, big-hearted. But good.

And yet, even now, with all the noise and music, Jimin felt it. The faint flicker of envy. Because Jungkook had you. Had grown up with you. Someone by his side since childhood.

That kind of connection? That kind of loyalty?

The truth was, Jimin used to have that too. A long time ago.

He's never told anyone, not even the guys. But sometimes, late at night, he still remembered the sound of her laughter echoing in empty spaces, the way she used to loop her arm through his and call him her person. Her safe place.

You reminded him of her, in a strange, aching kind of way.

Same softness. Same fire. Same way of looking at the world like it owed her answers and she wasn’t afraid to demand them.

But where that story of his ended, left something hollow in its place. He never talks about it. Never says her name out loud anymore. Not since...

Jimin’s jaw clenched. He blinked hard.

“You idiot,” he muttered, eyes still on Jungkook.

He didn’t even know who he was talking to anymore. Jungkook. Himself. The universe.

Maybe all of them.

[littlemissfix-itfic]

After the Bad Days

Weeks after one of Dean’s really bad days, you’re in a diner, grabbing a quick bite with Dean, Sam, and Cas after a hunt. As you’re walking back to your table, you can hear Cas and Dean talking, but you’re not near enough to make out any of the conversation. You round the corner away from the bathrooms, and you hear the soft vulnerability in Dean’s voice as he murmurs, to himself more than to Cas. Sam and Cas pause, looking at him with surprised relief, and you slide into the booth next to him. Noting the pause in the conversation becoming awkward, you elbow him softly with a smile and offer up a few shining compliments about his work on the hunt you had just finished up. Your food arrives, and you all dig in, conversation resuming their regular flow. You can’t help but notice the smile that stays on Dean’s lips, and hope to yourself, and whomever or whatever else might be out there that cares, that it remains longer than the last smile did.

[COVERED IN BLOOD] Perhaps the world is slightly brighter having me in it.

[recordingmae]

sukuna ryomen x fem!reader texts

Random texts, modern era!, maybe a bit ooc?, GRAMMAR IS DOGSHITTTT, slightly suggestive!

Author: I just wanna say sorry in advanced for how bad the grammar in this is but I got way to lazy to fix it😭💔 ALSO THE LOVE FOR MY LAST POST??? Ugh Tysm Tysm Tysm it means the world to me that people have actually read my work!, promise my next post will be better. Also please feel free to give me feedback!

(he ended up buying you a Kit Kat, ramen, and flowers when he came back)

[gothcsz]

Hands To Myself | Javier Peña x Black Latina F!Reader | ~4k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You get to know the handsome stranger sitting next to you on your overnight flight to Mexico.

Tags: smut, reader is ovulating, hand job, fingering, dirty talk, lust at first sight again, sexual acts in public (on a plane), let's just pretend this is realistic okay, pwp, blowjob to completion, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: this is all @probablyreadinsmut's fault tbh. coming into my inbox with horny thoughts, knowing i have to do something about it 😩 hehe i hope you guys like this, it's nothing special... i just need this man in any way i can get him! let me know what you thinkkkkkk🖤

You knew you were fucked the second you saw him at the gate. He isn’t just attractive—he’s ridiculously attractive. The kind of hot that only exists in movies or in passing, like some guy you make eye contact with and never see again. Except this time, he wasn’t just passing through. He was standing right there.

To make matters worse, your hormones are out of control. Peak ovulation. Just being around a man has your skin buzzing, like your body is betraying you on a biological level.

So yeah, you looked. How could you not? He’s tall, has broad shoulders, leaner than what you usually go for but still built in a way that makes your brain short-circuit.

Then the universe really had to mess with you—you are assigned the seat right next to him for the overnight flight.

Your stomach drops. Suddenly, your go-to comfy travel outfit, leggings and a cardigan, feels way too basic.

“I’m at the window seat,” you say, trying to sound normal.

He looks up, meeting your gaze, and smiles—actually smiles. His brown eyes are warm and a little intrigued as he gives you a once over.

“Okay.”

Just that one word and you are already overthinking. How good his voice would sound in your ear as he’s—

No, you won’t make things harder on yourself by having intrusive sexual thoughts about some stranger. No matter how good looking he is.

You shove your carry-on into the overhead bin and awkwardly step aside so he can stand and let you in. His body brushes against yours, and you get a whiff of his cologne, something woodsy, mixed with the unmistakable scent of whiskey from the airport bar.

Okay… so maybe you’d been watching him for longer than just at the gate. But who could blame you? The man is truly a sight to behold. It’s not like you were being a creep about it.

You mutter a soft “thanks” and sink into your seat, trying very hard to act normal while the flight attendants go through their safety spiel, though it’s hard to focus when you can feel his presence right next to you.

You need a distraction—fast. So, in a last-ditch effort to stop acting like a feral idiot, you pluck your book from your backpack and try to read.

It works, kind of. Not really.

“So, what’s waiting for you in Playa del Carmen?”

His voice, low and raspy, cuts through your attempt at reading—not that you’d absorbed a single word, still stuck on the same page since you opened it.

You glance over, and of course, he’s already looking at you. His leather jacket is gone, leaving him in a short sleeved button-down, a few undone buttons teasing the tanned skin of his neck, his thick biceps straining against the fabric.

You take too long to answer because he tilts his head slightly, lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk. “Sorry—abrupt fuckin’ question.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You stumble over your words, mentally cringing at yourself. His brows raise slightly, amused, and you don’t miss the way his mustache tics when he presses his lips together. 

“A friend’s birthday trip. I got caught up at work, so I had to take a later flight at the last minute. What about you?”

He hums, the sound deep and thoughtful. “Work.” That’s all he offers. “Not as fun as what you’ll be getting up to, I’m sure.”

You bite your lip, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your book. “I’ve heard the beaches are beautiful. I’m excited to just lounge and take in the sun. It’s been so long since I’ve gone on a proper vacation.”

Your tongue is loose despite the way you’re vibrating under the weight of his attention.

“I know that feeling. Don’t even think my body knows what a vacation is…” He trails off, leaning back in his seat, thighs spreading in that way men do, which you usually find annoying but something about the way he does it has your pussy clenching, and you try no to let your eyes drop down to his crotch.

“How’s the book?”

You blink slowly, returning your attention to the paperback in your hand. “Got a slow start but so far it’s been alright.”

“I bet. You’ve been stuck on the same page since we took off. Must be the most riveting paragraph ever written.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and if it were anybody else, you’d be weirded out by their observation. Being hot does have its privileges. “Maybe I just like rereading. Really taking in the point the author is trying to make.”

“Uh-huh, right…” He chuckles softly and that sound triggers the desire that seeps into every pore of your skin.

The conversation continues flowing thereafter, which you definitely did not expect. His name is Javier, and he’s constantly traveling for work—though he’s vague on the details, and you’re not about to grill a stranger for his life story.

Instead, the topics meander, easy and flirtatious, both of you toeing the line between casual and something else.

You swear he’s flirting. He leans in slightly when you speak, holds your eyes captive just a beat too long, like he’s in no rush to look away.

You’re noticing everything the deeper you get into this… thing. The way lips form around each word, full and obnoxiously kissable. The way his brown eyes glint when he talks about things that should be trivial but feel interesting because he’s the one saying them. How the tendons in his forearms flex whenever he gestures, his fingers long and strong, the kind of hands that could make a woman very happy.

Your horny brain is spiraling.

“A mango marg is my go to. Preferably one of those ridiculously oversized ones with sugar on the rim.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You arch a brow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He scratches his jaw, flicking his tongue over his teeth. You admire how chiseled his jaw is. “Means you like to have fun. You probably get away with a lot.”

“And you think I get away with things?”

His eyes flick down to your lips, just for a second. “I think you could, if you wanted to.”

You cross your legs, shifting in your seat like that’s going to help anything. It just makes it worse. Focus. He’s just a hot stranger. A hot stranger that smells like whiskey and cedarwood and keeps throwing you these amused little glances like he knows what the fuck he’s doing to you.

You should probably end this before you embarrass yourself. But instead, you just keep talking, keep flirting, and keep waiting to see just how far this can go.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Javier’s voice snaps you back to reality, and you blink, heat settling on your cheeks as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“Sorry, what?”

His lips curve slightly like he’s fighting a grin, but his eyes give him away. “You keep staring at my mouth…” He trails off, but there’s something in the way he says it. As if he’s caught you red-handed and is enjoying watching you squirm.

Your stomach clenches. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Fuck.

Panic surges through you, and suddenly, the cabin feels way too small, the air too thick. “No, uh—there’s nothing there. I just… I zone out sometimes.” You clear your throat, fingers fumbling with your seatbelt. “Would you mind letting me get to the restroom?”

You sound as pathetic as you feel, but Javier doesn’t let up. His smirk stays put, eyes flicking over your face like he’s contemplating something.

Still, he nods. “Sure.”

He stands, stepping aside, and as you squeeze past him, his hand just barely grazes your lower back. Light enough to be innocent, intentional enough to send a full-body shiver down your spine.

You swallow hard, pretending not to notice—pretending not to feel the slick heat between your legs pulse at the contact—and walk as casually as possible down the aisle.

The moment you lock the restroom door behind you, you press your palms against the tiny counter, breathing hard.

Your reflection stares back at you, pupils blown, lips parted like you just stumbled out of a damn makeout session. 

You’re hot. Turned on from nothing but a little eye contact and some shameless flirting. And the worst part? It’s not going away anytime soon. Especially since you’re sitting so fucking close to him. Your body is wound tight, aching at the worst possible time.

Your panties are soaked, borderline ruined, pussy crying to get some relief, and you actually consider slipping a hand down there and rubbing one out. But you know yourself. Getting off with your fingers is a slow, frustrating process, and the last thing you need is to be locked in an airplane restroom, chasing an orgasm while Javier is sitting just outside, existing like that.

So you suck it up. Splash some cool water on your face. Take a deep breath. Get it together.

When you step back into the aisle, he’s already standing, leaning casually against the row of seats as if his demeanor and charm aren’t totally putting you under his spell. He looks even better now than he did before you left.

You give him a tight-lipped, awkward smile as you slide back into your seat. He follows, sinking into his own with a quiet grunt, the sound low and rough enough to send another spark of pleasure straight to your cunt.

“Everything good?” He asks smoothly, but there’s an undercurrent of playfulness to it, like he already knows the answer.

You force your legs to stay still, clenching your thighs subtly as you nod.

“Mhm.”

He hums. “You don’t have to lie, you know.”

Your eyes snap up to his, heartbeat hammering. “What?”

“I know when a woman’s turned on. And you haven’t exactly been subtle about it.”

Your stomach drops, your whole body flooding with embarrassment. “That’s ridiculous—”

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He shrugs. “Been thinkin’ about how good your ass looks in those leggings since I saw you back at the airport.”

Oh, you’re so fucked.

Your breath stutters, fingers gripping the armrest as if that’ll do anything to ground you. Maybe this is a dream, it has to be. No way he’s reciprocating the horny vibes you’ve been exuding because of your damn ovulation cycle. 

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips, shaky, uncertain.

His expression doesn’t change—still cool, still lazy, but there’s a darkness to it now. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything…” His knuckles graze your thigh, featherlight, making you shiver before he pulls away. “But I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I’m not attracted to you.”

You lick your lips, watching the way he follows the movement, how his hand balls into a fist against his leg. The cabin is dim now, most passengers lost in their own worlds or asleep, and the seats around you are conveniently unoccupied. The flight attendants have finished their last walkthrough, leaving you tucked away in a private little pocket of space.

Your pulse thrums, a decision forming in the haze of arousal clouding your mind. “What if…” You hesitate, but then let the thought take control, logic be damned. “What if I wanted to do something?”

Javier’s brows lift slightly, intrigue flashing across his face. The shift is instant—his relaxed posture stiffens, his jaw ticks, and his eyes dip just slightly as if assessing exactly how far you’re willing to go.

You’re barely breathing as he lifts the armrest between you, his body pressing in tight, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You almost pass out.

“Yeah?” His voice is nothing but a whisper, matching the lust that’s thrumming in your veins. “Like what?”

The warmth of his breath has you letting out a soft, involuntary whimper.

“Anything,” you murmur, fidgeting with your fingers, the need unbearable. “I just need you to touch me.”

Javi exhales a low, quiet laugh through his nose, and you can feel his smirk against your skin. His lips ghost along the side of your jaw, teasing, taunting.

“I can do that.” His fingers then trail up your thigh agonizingly slow, stopping just at the hem of your leggings. “Just need you to keep quiet.”

You nod weakly, head tipping back against the seat as his mouth finds your neck. He starts slow, pressing soft kisses along the sensitive skin before sucking lightly, dragging his teeth over your pulse. You resist the urge to squirm as his large palm moves up your body, fingertips teasing along the curve of your breast over your top.

Your nipples tighten instantly, and when he pinches one between his fingers, both of you let out a quiet groan.

“So sensitive. You need more?”

You bite your lip, nodding desperately again. “Yes.”

His hand slips beneath your shirt and finally—rough fingertips meet your bare skin. He palms your breast, kneading, tugging at your nipple, sending sharp little sparks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You shift, desperately trying to find any friction. Your horniness is maddening and he knows it.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs against your jaw, tongue flicking out to taste your skin. “So worked up already. Bet you’re soaked.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you whimper, hips rolling ever so slightly.

Javier groans at the movement, shifting even closer, his thigh pressing against yours as he works your tits over with a practiced hand.

His lips move up to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, eyes locking with his for a brief moment before you both give in—lips crashing together, mouths desperate and hungry.

He can kiss.

His tongue slides against yours, tasting and exploring. The fingers at your breast keep working, rolling your nipple between his fingers, twisting just enough to make you gasp against his lips.

“Javi…” His name is exhaled breathlessly. “More. Please.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Yeah?” Leaving your tits, he moves down between your legs and you spread your thighs, giving him enough room to begin rubbing you over your leggings.

You let out a sharp gasp, back arching slightly. The pressure has you melting, chasing the touch you so desperately need.

Javier watches you, drinking in the slight furrow of your brow, how your lips purse. “Goddamn.” He can’t help but nip at your lower lip, gripping your thigh with his other hand as he grinds a little harder against your pussy. “You soaked right through these.”

Your fingers dig into his forearm, the teasing unbearable.

“You’re so—” You shudder, exhaling shakily and he’s living for it. “You’re so fucking hot, I couldn’t help it.”

“I could probably make you come just like this, huh? Needy little thing needs her pussy played with so bad, she’s whoring herself out on a fuckin’ plane just to get an orgasm.”

Your jaw hangs open at his filthy words.

Javier is clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. His fingers keep moving, slow and firm, while your hand drifts down, pressing against the hardness straining beneath his jeans. Even through the thick denim, he’s big, and when you squeeze just slightly, his hips jerk into your palm.

He groans into the kiss you’re sharing, enjoying your touch. “This is risky, you sure?”

You nod, struggling to think through the fog of lust clouding your mind. “I don’t care.”

That’s all it takes.

He pulls back, just enough for both of you to move quickly. You shrug off your cardigan, tucking it beneath you before slipping your leggings and panties down to your mid thigh. You’re not about to put your bare ass on this plane seat.

He unbuckles his belt, freeing himself from his jeans, and holy shit.

Your mouth goes dry. He’s thick, a swollen, flushed cock with a prominent vein running down the side, curving just enough to make your walls flutter at the thought of him fucking your cunt.

Javi catches your lingering gaze and smirks. “You just gonna look, or—?”

You drag your tongue across your palm before wrapping it around his leaking cock, your touch making him shudder. Slowly, you stroke him, spreading the precum with your thumb, gliding it over the sensitive head before giving a firm squeeze, earning a growl from deep in his chest.

His fingers slip between your thighs, spreading your pussy lips open, and he wastes no time in teasing your sensitive labia, dragging his touch up and down attentively.

You moan quietly as to not get yourself caught. He groans at the feeling of you, slick and hot, his digits smearing your arousal all over your pretty pussy before pressing against your swollen clit.

“If we weren’t on this goddamn plane I’d fuck the shit out of you.”

You can’t hold back your soft whine, your head tilting back, wrist still moving, his own fingers working magic between your thighs.

“How? Please Javi tell me how you’d fuck me.”

He buries his head into your neck, licking, biting, sucking at your skin, his thick fingers now breaching the mouth of your cunt.

It’s pure bliss—the stretch so much deeper, fuller than your own fingers ever manage. His thick digits work you open, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you. The way he drags against your inner walls has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but it’s the relentless pressure on your fleshy pearl that wrecks you, erasing every thought but him.

“I’d have you spread out, my head buried between your legs, fucking you with my tongue until you’re wet enough to take this big cock.” His hips grind into your jerking palm to emphasize his point.

You can only imagine how his wet tongue would feel up against your flesh, tasting every crevice, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you.

“Probably start over you, wanna see that pretty face while I slide inside this tight pussy baby, fuck,” he groans, fingers now knuckles deep inside your cunt and you moan, slipping into this fantasy with him, imagining how good it’d feel to have his dick stretching you out.

“Not really a missionary girl but I know you’d make me feel good, Javi.”

His thumb is slick with your sticky wetness, allowing him to swirl your clit around, massaging it and making your pussy drool even more. Your nipples are hardened and oversensitive, adding to the bliss when they brush against the fabric of your shirt with every deep inhale and exhale you take. 

Javi’s fingers begin to thrust into you more earnestly, the soft squelch of your pussy getting finger fucked thankfully drowned out by the hum of the plane. “How would you want it then? Tell me how you’d take it.”

Another bead of precum dollops from his slit and your mouth waters, picking up the pace to match the stroking of his fingers inside you.

“On top. I’d bounce on your cock until you’re filling me up. Put my tits in your face, make you suck on them.”

A thin sheen of sweat clings to your temples, the heat of his kisses still lingering on your neck making your temperature spike like a fever you don’t want to break.

Javier gets desperate, leaning in to put his lips on yours, imagining the way your pussy would feel while you rode him. You clench around his fingers, your orgasm on the brink of making a mess all over his hand.

“You’d let me come inside you?” His voice is a husky murmur, almost taunting, laden with lust as he cups your jaw with his other hand before sliding lower, wrapping firmly around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding, keeping you in place as he curls his fingers, brazen eyes boring into yours.

Your breath stutters as ecstacy coils impossibly tight. “Mhm,” you nod weakly, tears welling in your eyes from how good it all feels.

A wicked smirk spreads across his lips, his grip keeping you steady as he drags you closer. “Naughty girl,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’ love that.”

His lips crash against yours again, swallowing your cries as his fingers work you harder, scissoring inside you, his fat thumb flicking your clit rapidly. 

It sends you tumbling over the edge, your entire body clenches, muscles locking as waves of pleasure ripple through you, your release coating his fingers while you moan into his mouth, trying to keep quiet, trying not to let the whole damn plane know what he’s doing to you.

Your grip on his cock tightens but you lose your rhythm as he lets you ride out your orgasm, whispering praises against your lips, not seeming bothered by the lack of attention at his shaft.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to catch your breath, blinking away the stars clouding your vision while he pulls his fingers out, a sticky web following.

Javier lifts his fingers between you, still slick with your release, dark eyes flicking to yours as he takes in the scent of your pussy before he’s licking at them, using the hold he still has on your neck to bring you in so you’re both making out with his wet fingers between the two of you, your tongue moving sinfully, getting lost in the act.

You break away when his fingers are licked clean, attempting to catch your breath. After regaining some control, you continue to work his cock, urging him to slide into the unoccupied third seat by the aisle so you have room to take him in your mouth.

Javi blinks, caught off guard, dick twitching in your grasp as he registers what you’re suggesting.

“You sure?” His hands flex like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Yes. Don’t want to make a mess, right? Just make sure no one’s looking.” You purr, pulling your legging and underwear back up before shifting your body and bending over to lick at his tip, circling around his head before you’re taking as much as you can into your mouth.

The positioning is a little cramped and awkward, but you don’t care. He tastes so good, feels even better on your tongue. The blood is roaring in your ears, you can’t even hear any of the quieted noises you’re pulling from him but you do feel his hand landing on the back of your neck and he pushes you further down, forcing you to take almost the entirety of his cock down your throat.

You fondle his balls, sucking in your cheeks and bobbing up and down quickly. His stomach tightens and before you know it, ropes of warm and salty cum are filling your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin. You moan around him, slurping him up before pulling away with a soft pop, wiping at the corners of your mouth where the fluids had smeared.

He looks just as wrecked as you had when you came, his cheeks a little pink, eyes dilated, breathing heavily. He exhales a quiet, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair before tucking himself back into his pants, watching you with something dangerously close to admiration.

You lean in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to his lips, returning the favor and letting him taste the last traces of himself.

“Where are you staying? This can’t be the last time I see you.”

You tell him the name of the resort, watching as that familiar cocky smirk creeps back onto his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, mind already made up. “Can’t let you walk away after that. Pussy’s too good. Hope your friends don’t mind me stealing you for a night or two.”

He caresses your cheek and you melt into him, resting your chin on his shoulder, staring up at him with starry eyes. You already know you’re going to get the lecturing of your life once you disclose what just transpired to your homegirls.

“They will. Maybe I should extend my stay just a little longer…” Your fingers fidget with the buttons on his shirt.

“I’ll pay for it. Anything to see you again.”

Oh god, is this irresponsible of you? Probably. But you’re not thinking with your brain right now, no, you’re straight up thinking with your pussy.

“Deal.”

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7. @mandaloriankait . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @clubsoft . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @biapascal . @angiewatson .

[marvel-spidey]

We’ve Still Got Time

Summary: After receiving some life-altering news, you try to make Bucky understand that it's time to let the past go. Inspired by the song “Falling Slowly” (in my mind it was written just for Bucky ok 🥺) Pairing: Bucky x reader Word count: 3.1k Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, lots of tears, extreme fluff. A/n: English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy! also, happy 2025 for us bucky girlies!!! our man is coming back soon! ✨

Bucky woke up to the sound of running water and a toothbrush being used. The white light from the bathroom spilled into the bedroom you both shared. The clock on his nightstand read 4:07 a.m. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to the side, realizing your side of the bed was empty. Furrowing his eyebrows, he wondered why you were up at this hour brushing your teeth. Unable to think of a reason fast enough, he decided to get up and check on you.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked in a confused tone, his hoarse voice carrying the weight of sleep. His hair was a little messy, and his metal arm reflected the soft light from the bathroom. He was shirtless, and his gray sweatpants hung just above his hips.

“I’m sorry I woke you, Buck,” you replied, drying your face with a small towel. “I don’t know. I think I must have eaten something that didn’t sit well with my stomach. I just woke up feeling really nauseous. I threw up, but at least I feel a little better now.”

Bucky closed the distance between you, moving toward you slowly and giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. His expression was serious, his lips almost forming a pout.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? I feel bad knowing you were sick all by yourself.”

He held your face softly, and you looked up at him, scanning his features and silently admiring how concerned he always was for you. You couldn’t understand how someone so caring could think such terrible things about himself and carry so much guilt when this was the man he really was: calm, reliable, attentive. You prayed he could see it someday, too.

“I wouldn’t wake you,” you replied, caressing his cheek gently. “I know those nightmares have been coming back these past few weeks, haven’t they?”

He looked down, ashamed he hadn’t been able to hide them from you. You always knew.

He sighed and nodded, reluctantly admitting the unpleasant truth. His nightmares came in phases. Sometimes, they haunted him almost every night with terrible flashes from his past – people he had killed, accidents he had caused, futures he had destroyed. Or worse, scenarios in which you would get hurt. Sometimes, by him. Those were the worst ones. Other times they would come less frequently, almost letting him believe that he was making progress in his “healing journey”, as you liked to call it. But they eventually came back. To him, they were proof he would never truly be at peace, never able to leave the past behind.

“Yes, as usual,” he admitted. “But it’s okay. You don’t need to worry.”

“That’s impossible,” you replied, already recognizing his habit of downplaying things and subtly pushing you away, retreating into his world of self-loathing. “I’ll always worry. I just wish you would have talked to me about it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said while engulfing you in a warm hug. He had a defeated expression in his features that made you even more worried. God knows what kind of thoughts he was having about himself. You wish you could take them away.

“Let’s just go back to sleep, so you’re rested and feeling better in the morning. Deal?” You smiled weakly and decided to let the matter go, for now. “Deal,” you agreed, letting him take your hand and guide you back to bed. For the next few weeks, you continued to have moments where you felt unwell.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your body started to feel different. Your stomach was more sensitive than usual, leaving you with the now-familiar waves of nausea. You felt sleepier at random moments during the day, and your stamina during training sessions at the compound suddenly diminished. You felt more out of breath during workouts and sparring. And food began to smell and taste different. One morning, the pancakes Bucky made you almost daily for breakfast smelled “eggier” than usual—you could smell the eggs in the batter from what felt like miles away.

After weeks of feeling like this, you thought it was probably due to low vitamin levels and decided you should schedule a routine doctor’s appointment soon.

But in one of your weekly sparring sessions with Natasha, you started to feel a slight dizziness, so you asked her for a time-out.

“Are you okay?” she asked, raising one of her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I just—I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of weak for a while now,” you admitted, closing your eyes and resting a hand on your forehead in an attempt to steady yourself. “I think I just need to get some blood work done. It’s been a while since my last check-up.” “Weak how, exactly?”

“I feel like I’m always tired lately. More worn out. And my appetite is all over the place.”

Natasha looked at you with a suspicious expression before asking an unexpected question.

“Hmm, feeling weak, huh? Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

Your eyes shot open, and you stared at her, trying to process what she had just said. “What?”

“Yes, have you?” Nat repeated, crossing her arms and leaning into one hip with a slight smirk as if she knew something you didn’t.

“I- No, I- I didn’t… My period is only two days late, which is sort of normal for me. Do you think I should?” you questioned her, not knowing if you were talking more to yourself or to her.

“(Y/n) yes, you should! Have you talked to Barnes about it?”

“Not really. I didn’t pay much attention to this. I didn’t have time to.”

The truth was, you and the whole team had been preparing for an important mission in a few months, one that had been weighing heavily on Bucky’s mind especially, since it involved Hydra. The team was set to infiltrate a secret Hydra base in Hungary in order to retrieve intel on potential undercover Hydra agents within S.H.I.E.L.D.

You were almost sure this was the reason Bucky’s nightmares had gotten worse. He tensed up every time you or someone else mentioned the mission, or during training, probably dreading the feeling of going back to a place so connected to everything that he wanted to forget. He tried so hard to hide it but for you, it was so easy to sense his anxiety. The way his blue eyes grew distant, drifting to the floor as if trying to escape his own thoughts. Or how his fists clenched, fingers pressing into his palms almost to the point of pain, while he tried to take deep breaths every time Steve went over the mission details with the group.

“Then take the test,” Natasha urged, stepping closer and putting a reassuring hand on yours when she noticed the frightened look on your face. “If you’re pregnant, you need to know before the mission. And you need to tell Barnes. You both need to decide if going on this mission is still an option.”

“But Nat” you began, squeezing her hand, feeling so scared and unprepared for the scenario she just mentioned.  “I- I don’t know if Bucky is in a good headspace for this now. He’s been so off lately. The Hydra stuff has been really getting to him.”

Natasha offered you a comforting smile, her confidence and support unwavering.

“You’ll both be fine. I’m here if you need me. And Steve is, too.” Later that same day, you found yourself in a situation you never imagined you’d be in right now.

Trembling hands, tears streaming down your face, and your heartbeat drumming loudly in your ears. A white and blue pregnancy test sat on the marble counter of your bathroom. You stared at the word that appeared on the small screen.

+ Pregnant

You froze. You looked at yourself in the mirror and blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming. You weren’t. A wave of happiness washed over you. So much happiness. It was unexpected, yes, but you had always told Bucky he would be a wonderful dad. Yet every time you brought up the subject, he’d say he would like to be a father someday, but that it probably wasn’t a good idea. According to him, he could never be a good role model for a child.

Your first thought was running to Nat or Steve. You wanted to tell one of them and hear that everything would be alright, that Bucky would be alright with all of this. But it was already kind of late. They’re probably asleep by now, you thought to yourself. At the same time, you knew the person who really needed to know about this was in the living room, watching a random reality TV show with Sam.

You couldn’t bear to be alone another minute. The anxiety was overwhelming.

You decided to text Bucky and ask him to come to your room. If you went to the living room, there was no way Sam wouldn’t notice something was up, and you didn’t need another situation right now.

“Can you please come to our room, it’s urgent.” You texted and hoped he would check his phone as soon as possible.

Not even five minutes later you heard the door of your room open, followed by anxious footsteps entering the room.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I just got your text.” Bucky asked, his voice filled with concern.

“Hi, love” you said, stepping out of the bathroom and faking a half smile, searching for his hand and guiding him to the bed. You were terrified but at the same time you didn’t wanna scare him. “Come with me, I need to talk to you.”

“What happened?” Bucky questioned, his eyes quickly searching your face for any clues of what might have happened. You could see the worry creeping into his expression.

You sat next to him on the bed and held his hands tightly. The cold touch of his metal hand on yours offered a brief distraction from what you were about to tell him. You took a deep breath, still unsure how to begin. You decided that starting with some context might be easier.

“So, basically, for the past few weeks, I’ve started to feel a little… off. Do you remember the night you woke up because I felt sick in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, I do” Bucky answered calmly, trying to figure out where you were going with this.

“Well, besides that, I’ve been feeling different. My stomach has been constantly upset, my appetite has been strange, I’ve been feeling more tired than usual, and I–”

“(Y/n), are you sick?” Bucky interrupted, already imagining all the worst scenarios in his head.

“Buck, no” you replied quickly, closing your eyes and trying to breathe to calm yourself down. “Listen. As I was saying, I talked about these symptoms with Nat today and she… she asked... if I had already taken a pregnancy test.”

You paused, watching his face closely for a reaction. He seemed to freeze, taking a few seconds to process your words. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath – a breath that felt heavy with sadness. It broke your heart.

He opened his eyes again and they were glistening with tears. His eyes looked even more blue than they already were.

For a moment, you considered not saying anything more, but you knew he needed to hear it – all of it.

“So, I… I took a test just now,” you continued, your voice trembling as tears began to run down your face. “And it’s… it’s positive.” You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your sweater, struggling to keep your composure.

“I’m sorry” you said crying, heartbroken because this was the reaction you had been dreading. You felt like you had ruined his life.

Now, he was the one silently crying. He still held your hands, his thumb softly tracing circles over your palm, his gaze fixed on your intertwined fingers.

“Please, say something, Bucky,” you pleaded, the silence only giving your mind space to imagine horrible possibilities.

“No, I’m the one who should be saying sorry, (Y/n),” he finally said, his voice breaking as tears slowly streamed down his face. “This baby deserves someone better. You deserve someone better.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, reaching out to hold his cheek, your heart breaking at the words that he had just spoken. “What do you mean, ‘we deserve someone better’?”

“Yes! Yes, you do!” he exclaimed, his voice rising as he finally let the storm inside him surface. “How is this baby going to grow up knowing all the awful things I’ve done?”

He got up from the bed, putting some distance between the two of you. He was still crying quietly, and it felt like he had been keeping this inside for so long. His body was facing the window. He couldn’t even look at you.

“You didn’t do those things, Buck. The Winter Soldier did,” you spoke clearly, hoping that he would somehow believe it.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I still did it.”

“Of course it matters! You didn’t have a choice!” you raised your voice, frustrated at how he could still blame himself so much.

“Everyone tells me that, but it doesn’t help, you know?” he replied, turning his body back toward you. His voice was low. “When I lie down to sleep, I keep seeing their faces. I can still hear their cries, begging for help, for mercy.”

“Buck, I—I’m so sorry,” you told him, holding your tears back again. You’d give anything to take his sadness away.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be free from what they did to me,” he stated, his face showing a defeated expression. “I know Ayo got the Hydra programming out of my mind in Wakanda, but still… it’s all here,” he said, pressing his index finger to his temple. “I remember all of them, and I always will.”

You got up and decided to close the distance between you. You raised both of your hands to his cheeks and held his face gently, making him look at you. You needed him to hear every word you were about to say.

“Honey, look at me,” you began, your voice serious but soft. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. And I want you to know I’d do anything – anything – if I could to make this suffering go away. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain and not be able to do anything-”

“No, sweetheart, but you do,” he interrupted you, wiping the tears from your face. “You have no idea how many ways you’ve saved me.”

He closed his eyes and kissed your forehead. Both of you were crying again, and you could feel all his gratitude in that one kiss.

“You save me every day. It would be impossible for me to survive those nightmares if I didn’t have your face to look at every time I wake from one of them.” He gave you a sad smile while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your cheek afterward.

You leaned into his metal hand and kissed his palm. Your eyes were once again glistening with tears.

“Do you see this, James?” you asked, hoping that he would understand what you were trying to show him.

“This is you,” you continued, placing one hand on his heart. “This is Bucky Barnes. The man who has a metal arm and touches me like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. The man who makes pancakes for me every morning. The man who’s afraid of punching me too hard in our sparring sessions, even though he knows I’m a kick-ass agent.”

“That you are,” he agreed, both of you crying and laughing at the same time. You quickly wiped his tears away.

“The man who watches trashy reality TV shows with his friend on a Thursday night. This is you. And this is the man who is going to be the father of my child,” you finished, placing his flesh hand on your belly.

He continued to cry. You just prayed that your words would finally make their way into his heart.

“So tell me, how could you say I deserve better? That this baby deserves better?”

He was still looking at his hand on your belly, trying to understand how he could still be worthy of having a family after he had destroyed so many others.

“Look at me, Buck,” you called, guiding his gaze back to you. “You suffered enough. More than enough. You’ve warred with yourself for so long. It’s time that you won.”

He closed his eyes and tried to absorb the words he had just heard. It was so hard for him to accept that he deserved happiness, but he was so grateful that you have never stopped trying.

“You made it. We’re here, and you made it. Now we’ve still got time. We’ve still got all the time in the world for you to finally live. Your life, how you want it,” you continued, kissing the palm of his metal hand again. It was your way of showing him that you loved all of him, even the part that brought him the most pain.

“This baby is so lucky to have you as a dad. And to be honest, this kid is going to brag so much to the other children about how his dad’s got a metal arm.” For the first time, you heard an honest laugh escape from his lips. The sound was wonderful.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but it must have been something really good,” he replied, finally pulling you close and giving you a warm kiss.

“I love you- we love you.”

“I’m so scared. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to… be a role model for someone.” You could see the worry in his eyes. He was genuinely scared.

“Bucky, yes, you do. You just have to be you. I don’t need you to be perfect,  I just need you to be here. Can you do that for us, Sergeant?”

He gave you a warm smile, filled with gratitude and hope - the hope you had just given him. He looked at your lips and kissed you once more, holding your belly delicately.

“Yes, I can, ma’am. Yes, I can.” he agreed easily “but.. speaking of sergeant, now there’s no way you’re going on that mission.”

“Excuse me? I’m still in the first few weeks of this pregnancy. And how about you? This baby will need both parents.”

“Okay okay, so we’ll let Uncle Steve decide who's going and who’s not. Deal?”

“Okay, sir. Deal.”

Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice, you had a choice You've made it now ~~ Falling Slowly (from the musical Once)

Feedback is always welcome, feel free to comment, like and reblog! Hope you enjoyed 🤍

[caramel-maveeato]

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: a private moment with your (lovable) red-headed bastard can lead to something a lot… harder.  ♡ Pairings/Love interest: Akabane Karma x GN!reader ♡ Genre: suggestive, fluff ♡ TW: sexual theme (but no you’re NOT having sex), a lot of kissing, boner (Karma’s), cursing, Karma is a simp, awkward virgins. ♡ Word count: 2.3k

Note: All characters originated from “Assassination Classroom” except for y/n.  All characters are 18 or older. English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Akabane Karma likes to control other people. 

He’s cocky. He’s sadistic. He’s a little piece of shit. Not that he’d be a toxic control freak in a romantic relationship, Karma still thrives on that feeling of holding power over someone, aided by a heart full of love for dominance and a twisted idea of justice. Oh god, he’s a fucking menace. 

Yet he finds himself being reduced to uncontrollability the moment you crashed into his life.

It’s uncomfortable and it hurts his gigantic ego. But when you throw that ridiculously pretty smile at him, when you giggle in a heart-achingly adorable sound when he tells a good joke, when you flip him off so badass-ly as his bullshit irritates you, the list goes on—what should’ve been a stab to his pride suddenly turns into tender sparks of light in his stomach. 

Akabane Karma knows he’s severely fucked. 

But hey, he has no mind to be thinking all that now. Even his most favorite superhero or whatever movie is fading into the background, leaving only thoughts and appreciation for the pleasant weight he holds dear to his lap, for every sweet sound of breathlessness as his lips dance with his partner’s. Karma doesn’t care about anything else but you right now, let alone giving a shit about that unimportant throb of shame at how desperate he’s being. 

“Open your mouth a bit more…” Your boyfriend murmurs. His soft, plump lips coaxing yours to part further, creating more space for his greedy invasion. 

You oblige immediately. Karma wastes no time tracing your warm tongue with his own, sucking gently on your bottom lip. His hands move from your hips to the underside of your thighs, tugging you even impossibly closer even though there is already no distance left between you two. 

Kiss after kiss after kiss. Each one drives him mad with a turbulent need for more. Like a limitless void nothing could ever fill up but you. You. 

You’ve destroyed him. 

“Karma…” You breathe out against his lips, your own deliciously kiss-swollen and you could tell the redhead almost rushes to chase after them again just by his impatient look. “I… Break’s over, I still need to finish that essay.”

Karma gives you an unapproved look, his voice low and rough from kissing for what felt like five minutes straight. “Oh c’mon, you just gotta ruin the mood, huh?”

It’s not like you want to abandon the fun either. But you have no choice, this research paper is due at midnight and worth a hundred points. As much as it pains you to separate from your unbelievably charming boyfriend during such a passionate moment, you have to lock in. “You mean I should save the mood and ruin my grade instead?”

Karma argues stubbornly. “Why care so much? I can just help you finish it later. Easy.”

“The offer is appreciated, but this is my education so… No.”

Your determination has Karma roll his eyes in annoyance. Holding eye contact, he slowly closes the distance in to press a kiss on your chin, his stupidly handsome face does a great job at slipping the seductive act through your guard. “Not even five more minutes?” 

You hesitate, heart thumping as loud and clear as a drum. “No.”

“Hmm…” You feel his soft mouth on your jaw this time, following a path down the side of your neck. And before you can even gather all those strength left and tell him off, your head already automatically tilts to give him more access, earning a satisfied chuckle from your darling devil. “I promise will make it worth your precious time.” 

It’s unrealistically hard to refrain from giving in when he’s like this, and Karma knows that fact very well. He’s extra observant when it comes to people he cares about, so imagine the tenfold effort since you’re literally on top of his pyramid. 

The way you’re so obviously fascinated with him is just enhancing his chance to break that paper-thin wall you called “I still have to work.”

His hot breath fans your skin as he inhales deeply and exhales, relishing the sweet scent he’s grown too attached to. Karma draws soft kisses on your pulse point while his calloused fingers travel up your spine, creating lines of goosebumps despite the T-shirt you’re wearing. His low mumble muffles against your neck. “You’ve been on that laptop all day, can’t even spend a few more minutes entertaining your boyfriend?”

Meeting your protesting gaze, Karma only tilts his head innocently, piercing Mercury eyes sparkling with both mischief and victory, and adoration too, just for you. “What? I thought you said you love me.”

To be fair, that class is just a random elective you take that has nothing to do with your major. So since his very first offer to ditch the assignment, you already made up your mind to do just that. But dating this arrogant little brat, you sometimes can’t withstand the urge to play hard to get. “Fine…”

Seeing that familiar shit-eating grin blooming on his face, you quickly add. “Only because you won’t stop complaining.”

“Yeah yeah, as if you aren’t also bored out of your ass reading those 5 feet long documents.”

You roll your eyes, yet feel no annoyance as you warmly bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing across the soft skin that had dusted rosy from the previous affection. Suddenly, you want to see even more of that pink tint as something in your chest floats gently on air when he leans into your palm. 

“Kiss me again.”

Karma raises his eyebrows ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, then smirks. “Oh? You want me to do what? Couldn’t quite catch it.”

You want to get mad, although embarrassment and giddiness kind of overcrowd that specific emotion, plus you can’t really deny that Karma’s hypnotizing way of acting smug is one of those traits that wooed you in the first place. “Kiss me again before I change my mind.” 

“How bossy.” He lets out a pleased snicker. But instead of the persistent teasing like the bastard he is, you receive that lovely softness on your lips in no time. 

The taste of your lips always manages to knock the air out of his lungs and Karma was quick to feel his head spin again. Doesn’t matter if this is the nth time you’ve kissed, he just simply can’t take it. Not with that attitude of yours he finds so endearing, not with your thighs on either side of his hips, not with your sweet lips melting against his own in a silent declaration of fondness. 

Fuck. His first thought as you gently bite his lower lip, your fingers fluidly tangling in his hair. Every little action of yours easily becomes his weakness and you never miss a chance to exploit it. But oh fuck. He loves it. 

Karma is a human, he has limits. And here his beloved treats his poor self-control like a jump rope, hopping up and down and back and forth so naively while he fights for his life. One of his hands grips your thigh tightly, the other cups your jaw, tilting your face to his heart’s content as he devours your mouth. Nothing is enough. The need for more and more is escalating like vines crawling up a trellis once he’s gotten a taste of heaven. 

You two pull away after a long, breathless moment, panting for oxygen in spite of the mutual eagerness. Karma stares into your eyes, admiring the exquisite color of your irises between half-opened lids. That’s until he notices a purse of your reddened lips, forming a shy thin line as you slowly look down at his lap. 

Seated on his thighs, you, of course, feel it as clear as day that something is awake and poking at your lower stomach. You avert your gaze right after the discovery, however, since you’re still in the early stages of this relationship, just the sight of his excited tent is already enough to render you both speechless. 

Your boyfriend edges forward, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, shielding his expression. But judging from his pink ear, you suppose the prior smoking-hot make out session isn’t the only reason he’s seeming all bashful now. 

“Ignore it.” He mutters against your skin, his voice slightly strained. “I’ll calm down in a minute.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” You answered, carding your fingers through his hair with wordless reassurance. Inexperienced most of his life due to trust issues, while it’s apparent that Karma tends to mask his vulnerability with brashness and confidence, you can still imagine how he feels right now must be similar to mentally being stripped naked for the first time, awkward and confused. 

And aroused. 

When you start rubbing his head, Karma still falls headfirst into your affection like a cat, welcoming in a small breath as his nose is once again stuffed with your scent. “Well, I guess I’m happy that you don’t mind.” 

Despite his relief that you’re not bothered by the unexpected fuss inside his pants, he’s still just a little bashful that you saw him at any moment that is not ‘cool.’ Yes, your kisses usually end up with him being more than a little worked up, but it’s not typically this… reactive. 

Not getting an answer from the redhead, you speak. “I mean it, Kar.” 

Internally giggling at the dumb nickname, you gently plant a peck on his temple, muttering into the soft, silk strands of crimson you wholeheartedly adore. “I don’t mind seeing your… ‘friend’ react to me so strongly. Honestly, isn’t it just trying to say you like me a lot?” 

You hear a tender sigh emit on the crease of your shoulder, either an abashed huff or a sheepish laugh. “You’re not helping, y’know.” 

You grin, patting his head. “Then stop hiding and tell me what’s gonna help.” 

“I’m not hiding.” 

Before you can resume your smugness, he continues, timidness too faint to be located in a pool of accusation. “It’s your fault, ‘s all your fault.”

Karma finally forces his own face out of the comfortable spot he was burying in. His cheeks are cherry red, almost identical to the beautiful shade of his hair. Oh, and it’s definitely tugging at your heartstrings, giddy but lingering like a rain pouring on thirsty earth. “How the hell is it supposed to be my fault?”

He rolls his eyes, smirking in an attempt to regain his composure. “See? You’re acting up and conveniently, I happened to find it hot.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” 

Karma only laughs in response. Not that he thinks you’ll be weirded out just because he has a physical reaction. It’s more of a personal thing for Karma because he hasn’t had much chance to open up to anyone in his life, so intimacy like this is kind of new and foreign and intimidating. He wants to take it slow so he doesn’t lose himself in the feeling. It’s impossible not to, though. 

“Now, since it was entirely your fault…” He drags out while staring at you with intense, calculated confidence. “Hurry up and fix what you’ve started.”

The previous shyness is already thrown far away behind his head so motherfucking fast it’s scary, you soon find yourself feeling small and cornered in his embrace. “...And how should I do that?”

A tiny pause goes by. Karma smiles lazily. “Kiss me.”

You blink, before returning the smile with a more challenging one. “Oho, sure you can handle it? I can see your… ‘brother’ hasn’t calmed down yet.” 

Karma can see you glancing down at his misbehaving problem, which is still standing there gloriously despite the betrayal inflicted on its owner. 

His throat feels thick and dry, forcing him to unconsciously gulp down. Karma reaches out a hand to grip your chin, tilting your head back up towards him. “What if I told you I don’t want to calm down?”

You look at his lips out of instinct, equally tempted even if you wish to conceal it. To conceal how much you’re aching to fulfill his request right away. “If you say so, don’t mind if it stays up that way for a bit longer.”

“Oh, I surely wouldn’t mind that.” The sentence’s finished with you getting engulfed in another kiss. 

This one is hard, bruising in a way, as if he’s trying to tell you something in between the flawlessly melded lips. Whatever that is, you might’ve said yes instantly if he worded it out loud. 

Each caress and whisper of your mingling mouths sends heat straight to his groin. Karma is a normal, healthy guy— a young adult whose hormone level is at the highest peak of his entire life. Especially now when he has his most favorite person on his lap, looking all gorgeous just for him and carrying out so perfectly the ultimate duty of loving him. Your warmth permeates like stars appearing between gathered clouds. Your touch blooms like unfurling flowers. Your everything feels like home. 

Not the empty house that burned loneliness in his skin, reminding him of a boy that was no different from a shadow in a world full of light. No, you feel like his real home. 

You mauled his sanity. You murdered his willpower. 

Karma’s self-control is purely non-existent in your vicinity. The night ended with your lips swelling and your clothes almost off. Almost. Your research essay’s been taken care of excellently under the hands of academic weapon Akabane Karma. Let’s just say it was a win-win.

A/N: So I caved in and actually wrote a Karma fanfic because I miss him so much and seeing those 10th anniversary on Twitter had me bawling I miss my sillies sm (especially shitty lil Karma my husband our kids miss him) Anyway hope you had fun reading. HAPPY KARMA'S DAY 🎄♥️

[satoruandjinwoobrainrot]

Scars don't define you💫

Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars

Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader

Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol

Wc: 1121

Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡

The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.

You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.

But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.

Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.

As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and  those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.

He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.

When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.

you, his everything

He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.

Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.

As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.

You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.

All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.

Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.

He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.

His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;

"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"

"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.

"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"

After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.

He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.

"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated 

With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.

[nymphea0]

Then can I request a continuation of that oneshot with Matthias? I was wondering what their marriage life and parenthood is like. Thank you in advance!! 🥰

The Duke And His Secret

Yan! Matthias x Reader

Oneshot Story (Special Chapter).

(Warnings : Balcony mature scene at the end.)

*Minors are prohibited from reading this story🚫*

Manhwa : 울어 봐, 빌어도 좋고.Cry, Even Better if You Beg. Cry, Even if You Pray.

Author & Ilustration : Solche & Van Ji

Word Count ; 1.395 word.

Hello this is Neva🦋, hope you have a nice and happy day, it's been a long time since I updated any story whether it's manhwa or Oc. sorry about that, I'm currently very focused on making a "supernatural" expecially Vampire character series project investigating and deepening it so that the character I make doesn't seem stiff and my darlings enjoy reading it. So heres some matthias cup of tea story (^3^), hope you like it Anon🦋, Lots of love - Neva🦋🦋

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story, much love.- Neva🦋

- Main story : The Duke and His Secret

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The residence of the Duke of Arvis, the kingdom of Berg.

The atmosphere of the residence was very cheerful, full of laughter from the 2 children of the opposite sex.

One had jet black hair like the color of a crow's feathers, with bright blue eyes like the sky. The other had snow-white hair with amethyst purple eyes.

The servants in the residence could only blush in excitement seeing the two children who were only 8 years old.

2 children, siblings, with different genders. The older brother was a man with black hair like a crow, while the younger sister, a woman with snow-colored hair.

Both of them played and ran with each other in the garden

While on the other side of the garden under the tree, there was a table with a complete set of tea and also a light side dish for the mouth that went well with tea, Pastry.

There were two women sitting there, one was no longer young, estimated to be 80 years old, while the other, still looked young but not so young, estimated to be 50 years old.

The two women were, Elysee von herhardt, and Norma Catharina Von herhardt, daughter-in-law and mother-in-law, who were both watching their grandchildren.

Felix Von Herhard and Airedith Von Herhard. Felix and Aire. Siblings who were only 1 year apart. The servants said they were Irish twins. Because they were only 1 year apart.

Norma stared at the two little children playing with each other, the woman was no longer young, she felt very sad if she couldn't play with them.

While Elysee occasionally smiled and drank tea elegantly, her eyes staring towards the balcony of their manor house. There Elysee could see her affectionate son and daughter-in-law.

In fact, as Elysee remembered when Matthias brought you to the Herhardt residence for the first time, a forced marriage that made your parents agree, you really didn't like being close to Matthias, but as the saying goes, struggle will never give disappointing results. The fact that Matthias desperately shows that he does love you, sincerely even though his way at the beginning was wrong.

Slowly you accepted Matthias, he never forced you to make love or do things he wanted but you didn't like, he listened to your wishes, all your anger, even though at the beginning you were afraid Matthias would hurt you, but he didn't do that.

Matthias even went to a psychiatrist to help overcome how to eliminate apathy and grow an attitude of sympathy and become caring and willing to accept differences of opinion, rejection and so on.

There Elysee could see how Matthias kissed your cheek affectionately, if Elysee remembered again the woman wanted to laugh at how Matthias' expression said love but with a flat expression.

Like father, like child. The fruit does not fall far from the tree, that's Matthias, just like his father.

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You are relaxing on the balcony, enjoying the hot spring, so warm but shady.

Down there, in the garden, you see your mother-in-law, Elysee and Matthias' grandmother, Norma, busy staring at Felix and Aire who are playing with each other, your and Matthias' children.

While your husband? Matthias, the man is busy cooing affectionately behind you, kissing your bare shoulder affectionately because you are wearing an Off-shoulder dress. Damn, this man knows the opportunity in adversity.

Many things have happened during the 9 years you have been with Matthias, you have faced the ups and downs together, but you know that Matthias wants to learn and tries to prove himself. As a result, the man becomes like a cat in heat, always wanting to be close and not wanting to be far away.

"Matty! Don't bite! Later mom and grandma will see, I'll be embarrassed"

You complain because this time Matthias bites and sips lovingly leaving a mark on your bare shoulder.

While Matthias, the man is only busy kissing, sucking your shoulder and neck, his hands also don't stay still on your thigh, stroking affectionately. Never mind that it was currently in public, but fortunately the balcony railing was 100% covered with carved marble, so the people below only saw that Matthias and you were just hugging.

"Don't refuse like that my love, it's your own fault for wearing such revealing clothes, this is called an invitation for me"

Matthias continued kissing and nuzzling your shoulder and neck.

"Felix and Aire are already 8 years old, isn't it time for them to have a new sibling?"

"No! Wait until they are 10 years old, then a new sibling"

Too bad, your husband didn't accept the rejection, instead Matthias stared with a mischievous grin.

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.

Elysee chuckled softly at what she had just seen, causing amazement at Norma and the 2 little kids who were currently sitting in front of them, resting because they were tired of running and playing.

Norma snorted and drank her tea slowly, softly asking.

"What made you chuckle so cutely Elysee?"

Elysee just smiled shaking her head, and poked Felix's cheek which was a copy of Matthias and also rubbed Aire who was busy eating pastry.

"Nothing mom, I think we need to build another house"

Blinking one eye mischievously at her mother-in-law Norma, while Norma who was given that just laughed happily.

Wiping away tears slowly because she was tired of laughing. Norma knew exactly what Elysee meant, a new presence, a new member, Felix and Aire's future sibling.

"Well, at least our Matthias is full of energy to want to have lots of children"

The two middle-aged women laughed together, making the two little children in front of them look at each other, shake their heads slowly and just continue eating the pastry served in front of them.

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On the balcony, Matthias was still busy kissing your shoulder and neck affectionately which was so tempting to his desire.

His hands were so adept at entering your lower dress, rubbing your soft thighs gently with full squeezes passion.

"Matt! Not here!"

You tried to protest Matthias, but like talking to a wall, Matthias ignored your protest.

Until his ladder slipped into your underwear, rubbing your sensitive intimate area slowly.

"Matthias!?". The more firmly you refused, the wilder Matthias became.

"What love? I know you enjoy it"

Matthias naughtily sucked your neck slowly, while his 2 fingers were busy moving back and forth in your sensitive area, so deep and expert.

You were only able to hold back your moans, afraid that a servant would pass through the balcony door or Grandma and mother would see you both suspiciously from down there, as much as possible you acted normal.

"Come on love, don't be so shy, I know you enjoy it"

Your ass was slapped lightly by Matthias deliberately full of temptation.

His hands got faster when he felt your walls squeezing his fingers.

"Want to come out love? Yes? Come to me love, came to my hands"

Until, you came hard! Both of your hands covered your mouth to muffle your moans, your eyes closed while your legs shook unable to bear the weight.

While Matthias' fingers were still busy moving slowly, down there, Matthias could feel and see the puddles of water falling. You squirted, it turned out.

Matthias chuckled softly and kissed your cheek tenderly.

Matthias passionately devours your lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth, tracing every inch of your mouth. Claiming it to be his.

You who are out of breath try to pat Matthias' chest, but Matthias this man is full of passion, so you bite his lips and scratch his neck, causing blood spots on his lips and neck.

Matthias just winces softly before pulling your hair back, not too roughly but not too slowly, enough to make you look at him.

Matthias' passionate eyes stare directly at you, whispering sensually right in front of your lips, while licking the corner of your lips affectionately.

"Feels so good love? Do you want to continue here or in the room hmm?"

Damn, your fate is so unlucky to marry this shameless nobleman but god, you cant hold your heart, you love this man, as same as matthias love you.

His secret, his little heaven secret.

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Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Story.