moontabi

[moontabi]

‘RED HOT LOVE | lee myung-gi x reader

PAIRING: myung-gi x reader

SYNOPSIS: you were perfect. he knew it the second he saw you—too perfect to be real. you just didn’t understand what that meant yet. so he watched. closer than anyone else ever did. and now you’ll see it too. even if he has to show you from the inside out.

CONTENT: VERY dark fic, yandere!myunggi, stalking, kidnapping, cannibalism, possessive behavior, graphic gore, death, violence, gaslighting, emotional manipulation/trauma, mental instability

AUTHORS NOTE: insp by sarah by tyler the creator … umm idk i just got bored & felt my heart explode when i saw him all bloody in a suit (am i weird?)

words: [9.5k]

MYUNG-GI always had a sort of unattainable type. She had to be beautiful, but naturally. Any girl who tried too hard, in his eyes, was just an attention-seeking whore. She needed to be insanely smart and genuinely kind too; nobody wants to deal with a rude girl nagging them 24/7.

His whole life, he never involved himself in any real relationships. Not because he couldn’t—he practically had girls throwing themselves at him—but because he was waiting. Waiting for the perfect one.

Then you came into his life. It felt like a scene from a movie; you appeared out of nowhere—like an angel dropped from heaven. One look at you and everything inside him shifted. No girl had ever made him pause before, but you did more than pause him— you rewired him.

“Excuse me, do you know where the Myeongdong station is?” you asked, stepping in front of Myung-gi’s seated figure with that soft, unbothered grace he hadn’t realized he craved until now.

As he looked up, something in him snapped. Messy hair, no makeup, soft eyes—you weren’t trying. You were real; unfiltered, untouched. The kind of beauty that didn’t know it was being watched—and that made him want you even more.

He didn’t answer right away—just stared, memorized. You looked directly at him, and something fluttered behind his ribs—something hot, sharp, possessive. He’d never believed in soulmates until that second. Now, he couldn’t believe in anything else.

“Um, yeah, it’s…” he started, trailing off.

Then, suddenly—he got an idea, a way to make sure this moment didn’t just slip away. Why send you off into the city alone when he could go with you? Subway stations were full of creeps anyway. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking around there by herself—not when he was right here.

“Actually,” Myung-gi said, flashing an innocent smile as he stood up a little too quickly, “I’ll show you.”

Your face lit up like it was the easiest thing in the world to trust him. “Thank you so much!” You smiled, having no idea what you’d just invited into your life.

He walked beside you, just close enough to memorize your scent and the way your shoes barely made a sound against the pavement. You talked like he wasn’t a stranger, like you weren’t walking next to someone who had already decided you were his.

You laughed at something small he said and that was it. That was the moment he knew: he wasn’t going to let you go. Not now, not ever.

As you reached the station, you turned to him one last time, meeting Myung-gi’s eyes with that warm, unsuspecting smile. “Once again, thank you!” you said, then turned on your heel and disappeared into the subway.

Watching you walk away felt like someone had reached into his chest and torn his heart out. No—you couldn’t leave him, not yet. He didn’t even know your name.

Without another word, Myung-gi followed.

He kept his distance, careful not to catch your eye. Far enough to stay invisible, but close enough to see every move. You blended into the crowd so easily—so delicate, so unguarded. He couldn’t let this be the end. Not when fate had handed you to him so perfectly.

This wasn’t stalking, it was just making sure you were okay. There were a lot of unsafe places in Korea, he just wanted to be there if something happened to you.

He followed you to every store, every restaurant, every street. Quiet, patient—you never left his sight, not once.

It amazed him how unaware you were. How you didn’t feel his eyes on you, how you smiled so softly at strangers, paused at windows, wandered like the world owed you softness.

It made something burn in his chest. Not anger—need. You weren’t built for solitude. You needed someone to look after you, to keep the world from sinking its teeth into you.

You stopped at a convenience store, stepping inside without a second thought. He waited across the street watching through the reflection in the glass. You bought a drink and a snack—simple. Your choice was cute, innocent. Just like you.

He wondered what you’d sound like laughing in his apartment. If you’d like his cooking, how you’d look as you sat on his bed with your legs tucked under you, completely at ease.

You exited the store and kept walking. He followed quietly, still sure to keep his distance. You didn’t look back once, that made him smile. You trusted the world too much.

Even though you didn’t know it yet, he was already a part of your life. A constant you'd never be able to escape.

For the next few days, he trailed you like a shadow, always near, never seen. He memorized the rhythm of your steps, the stores you visited, the way your fingers tapped against your thigh when you were waiting to cross the street.

You liked sweet snacks from the convenience store, lingered too long in bookshop corners, and sometimes sat on park benches doing absolutely nothing, just staring into the air like you belonged to it.

You became a routine—his favorite part of the day—so predictable it felt intimate, like you were already connected in some silent, unspoken way.

He imagined what it would be like to sit beside you in those quiet moments. To hear you talk about the book you were reading for the past few days, to slip his hand over yours like it always belonged there.

And then today, as if the universe rewarded his patience, he saw you standing outside a bookstore, scrolling on your phone with one earbud in, hair frizzed slightly from the heat and bag slipping off your shoulder every few seconds.

You didn’t even look like you knew you were being watched, like something that wasn’t meant to be touched—but he couldn’t help himself

He adjusted his shirt, fixed his face into something friendly and casual, then approached like it was all just a happy accident. “Oh—hey, we met the other day, right? Myeongdong Station?”

You looked up, surprised for a second before your lips curled into that same soft smile, the one that made his chest feel too tight. “Oh yeah! I remember, you helped me.”

“Yeah” he said with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like a boy who hadn’t been planning this moment for days. “Total coincidence seeing you here. But, uh… would it be weird if I asked for your number?”

You hesitated—not long, but just enough to make his stomach twist, then nodded, unlocking your phone and handing it to him like it was nothing, like this wasn’t the beginning of everything.

He took it with steady hands, smiling as if he hadn’t already memorized your entire schedule, as if this really was fate and not obsession dressed in clean clothes and polite words.

When your number appeared on his screen, he knew it for sure— you were his now.

Even while all these thoughts ran through his head, you didn’t think much of it when he showed up again.

Seoul was huge, yeah—but sometimes the city looped back in strange ways. People crossed paths, passed faces they swore they’d never see again. You figured it was just one of those coincidences, nothing more.

He seemed sweet—nervous, almost. His voice was soft, not too pushy, and when he asked for your number, something in you relaxed. Maybe it was the way he smiled, or the fact that he didn’t linger too close or try too hard.

So you gave it to him. You didn’t feel unsafe. If anything, you were a little flattered that someone as good-looking as him was interested in you.

You texted later that night, just a quick “thanks again!” and when he replied almost instantly, it made you smile. He was just a guy you bumped into twice—no big deal.

That’s what you told yourself.

But in the days that followed, you started noticing small things. Seeing him near the same places. The same café, the same bookstore, the same quiet corner of the park where you liked to sit alone.

Each time, he waved, smiled, said hi like it was another happy accident. And each time, your stomach felt just a little heavier than before.

You didn't want to assume things early on—maybe he just liked going to the same places as you, right? But if this was the case, why are you just now seeing him?

He’d found your address days ago, coming by occasionally just to make sure you were safe. Finding out where you lived felt like the grand prize, confirmation that he was meant to be in your life. And once he had it, more and more details about you began to bubble to the surface.

He knew you always woke up late at night to get snacks, knew you spent most of your time at home in bed on your phone, even that you kept that one window unlocked all the time.

It had to be a sign, though, right? Maybe you knew he was watching, and left it unlocked as a passageway—an invitation into your life.

You acted so oblivious, but you must’ve felt it too. Felt the way his heart exploded into a million pieces every time you looked at him, or how he wanted nothing more than to run his hands up and down your body, covering every inch of skin with warm, soft kisses.

That was all the confirmation he needed. The next day, Myung-gi texted you asking to hang out. It wasn’t intrusive, just a suggestion. He offered to meet at the library you loved and pick out books for each other to read—nothing too intimate, just a quiet place where he could finally express his feelings.

He stared at his screen for a full minute before pressing send, re-reading the message over and over to make sure it sounded casual enough. Polite, interested—but not desperate. He didn’t want to scare you, not when he’d come so far.

You replied fifteen minutes later.

“sure, that sounds fun!”

He sat frozen, phone still in hand as the words echoed in his head like a prayer answered. You said yes. You wanted to see him again, and this time, he’d be able to sit across from you. Hear your voice without needing to follow from a distance, watch your eyes move from page to page and imagine a life where this wasn’t a one-time meeting, but instead the start of something permanent.

He spent the night planning what he’d wear, what books he’d suggest, how close he could sit without making you uncomfortable. He wouldn’t come on too strong—not yet. You still needed time to realize how well you fit together.

That next day, he arrived at the library twenty minutes early, heart pounding beneath his neatly ironed shirt, fingers twitching as he paced the aisles pretending to browse. Every few minutes, he checked his phone—no new messages. But you hadn’t canceled, that was enough for him.

He chose a seat near the windows where the sunlight hit just right, soft and warm, like the glow that radiated off you naturally. He wanted you to feel comfortable—wanted you to walk in, spot him, and smile like this was something you’d been looking forward to too.

When you finally appeared, his breath caught. You looked just like you did the first time. Simple, effortless, unaware of the effect you had on him.

Your hair was tied loosely with a bag slung over your shoulder, thumb scrolling absently on your phone as you searched for him. Then suddenly, your eyes landed on his. As you smiled, his chest tightened.

You sat across from him, greeting him cheerfully, “Hey! I’m glad you picked here, it’s quiet.”

He nodded, swallowing the flood of thoughts trying to rise up all at once. His mind swarmed violently with things he so wanted to say. 

"I missed you" "I’ve seen you every day" "I’ve watched you sleep"

Instead, he offered a small smile. “Yeah, I figured you’d like it. Thought we could pick out a few books, maybe read some together?”

You agreed easily, not knowing that he’d already planned the next two hours in detail—what aisles to take you through, which titles to suggest, how close he could get when pointing something out without drawing suspicion.

Yet all he could think about was how perfect your life would be once you finally understood it belonged to him. It would all be so simple—the two of you spending the rest of your lives together.

You hadn’t expected to enjoy yourself as much as you did. Myung-gi was quiet, a little awkward, but in a way that felt endearing.

He listened more than he talked, nodding along thoughtfully as you rambled about the books you liked. He even surprised you with a recommendation that was already on your to-read list. That made you pause for a second—had you mentioned it before? You couldn’t remember.

Still, he made you feel noticed. As you walked through the stacks together, the conversation stayed light—favorite genres, authors you hated, the type of stories that kept you up at night.

Every now and then, you caught him watching you, like he was trying to memorize your expression. It made you feel warm, but slightly self-conscious.

When you sat down again, this time was closer. You noticed the way he leaned in just enough that his shoulder brushed yours. Barely—light enough that it could’ve been accidental, but it wasn’t.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t move away either. You weren’t sure why, but there was something about him you couldn’t quite place. He was kind, but intense. Attentive, but always a beat too focused, like he was trying to hold back something heavier under the surface.

Still, when he offered to walk you home after, you hesitated for only a moment before saying yes. It was broad daylight, what harm could it do?

The walk home had been mostly quiet, but not in a bad way—at first. Myung-gi asked you a few things here and there, nothing too personal. His voice was gentle, like he was constantly trying not to speak too loudly. He mentioned a few of his favorite books, nodded a lot when you talked, and smiled at things that weren’t even jokes.

But the longer you walked, the more you noticed. Like the way he looked at you, not just a glance—he watched you, like he was trying to memorize every shift in your expression, every movement you made. At one point, you looked over and found his eyes already on you, unblinking.

You gave a tight smile and looked away. Maybe he was just awkward, harmless. Still, something deep in your chest stirred.

When you finally reached your apartment building, you slowed to a stop and turned to him. “Thank you for walking me” you said, shifting your keys into your hand. “This was nice, really.”

He didn’t smile this time. Just looked at you, head tilted slightly. “Do you want to go out sometime?” he asked suddenly. “Like, just us—a real date.”

Your smile faltered. It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong, not really. But something about the way he asked—how quiet the street was, how still he stood, waiting for your answer like it was a life-or-death choice—made your skin crawl.

You hesitated for a second too long, then shook your head gently. “Oh, um… I don’t really date much. But I appreciate it, we can still be friends!”

He kept smiling, but something in his face shifted just slightly. Not disappointment—something else, like the quiet twitch of a crack forming in glass. “No worries” he said, his voice low. “Just thought I’d ask.”

You nodded quickly, already backing toward the door. “Yeah, totally. I should get inside though, have a nice night.”

He didn’t move. Just stood there, watching as you turned the key in the lock and stepped inside. You could feel his gaze on the back of your neck the whole time.

As the door clicked shut behind you, you didn’t even think. You reached up and locked it—twice. Something about him had started to feel… off.

You couldn’t explain it, but for the first time since meeting him, a cold, quiet dread began to settle in your chest.

You told yourself you were overreacting. Myung-gi was probably just a little awkward, socially off. But then again, the way he stared, the way his smile didn’t fade when you said no. It was like he was already living in a version of your life that you hadn’t agreed to.

You walked to the window and peeked through the blinds. The street was empty, not a person in sight. Still, your heart wouldn’t slow down.

You shook it off, took a shower, changed into something comfortable, tried to scroll through your phone and distract yourself. You even drafted a message—hey, thanks again for walking me—but ended up deleting it. Something in your gut told you not to reach out first.

Hours passed. You were half-asleep scrolling on Instagram when your phone buzzed.

Myung-gi • just now goodnight. :)

Your body stiffened as you stared at the screen, that simple sentence digging under your skin in a way it shouldn't have. You'd been home for hours, why was he just now telling you goodnight as you were on the brink of sleep?

You hadn’t told him you were going to bed, you hadn’t texted him at all. Your phone stayed face-up this time, the screen glowing in the dark beside you. Simply hearting the message, you just laid there, wondering how he always seemed to know exactly where you were.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. You couldn’t tell.

Eventually, you turned over and pulled the covers to your chin, but sleep didn’t come easy. Every creak in the apartment made you tense, every shadow outside the window looked like it might move. You kept thinking about how long he’d paused when you said no, how tightly he watched you, how little you really knew about him.

Your eyes finally fluttered shut sometime after 3 a.m. Unfortunately, you didn’t see the notification that came in half an hour later.

Myung-gi • just now your curtain’s still open.

You never heard the soft click of your window’s faulty lock, and had no clue that by the time morning came, you wouldn’t be alone.

The sun hit your face earlier than usual. You groaned, eyes squinting against the light pouring through the window, which you could’ve sworn you closed last night. Your body felt heavy, unrested, like you hadn’t really slept at all.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes, then froze. Your curtain was wide open. You stared at it for a long time, stomach sinking, heartbeat starting to race in your ears. You never left it open in the morning. It faced the street and the sun blasted in. You always closed it before bed.

Did you forget?

You got up, cautiously peeking outside. People passed by; a cyclist, a woman walking her dog. Normal—still, a strange chill crept up your spine. Your phone was still on your nightstand. You picked it up with a shaky hand, and the screen lit up.

1 unread message

As you read through the text, you dropped the phone. Your hands went cold as your legs rooted to the floor. Backing away from the window instinctively, your breath caught in your throat as sweat coated your skin.

You didn’t remember that message, why hadn't you hadn’t heard it come in? You had locked the window. You were sure of it, weren’t you?

Slowly, you turned toward the far corner of your room, heart thudding louder than your footsteps. The closet door was cracked slightly—just barely—but you always shut it before bed.

You stared at the gap, skin crawling, and for the first time since meeting him, you felt something deeper than unease. You felt watched.

Suddenly, you snatched the door open with wide eyes, bracing yourself for the worst. But to your surprise, there was nothing there. All your clothes were in the exact same spot, not even being moved an inch. But no matter how safe it looked, that pit in your stomach still persisted.

With each passing second, the anxiety in your chest grew sharper, more unbearable. Frustration boiled to the surface as you tore through your apartment—ripping open doors, yanking blankets off furniture behind the shower curtain.

You didn’t know what you were looking for, you just needed to do something. Prove to yourself that you were overreacting, that nothing was there—but nothing helped.

Tears blurred your vision as terror sank deeper into your bones—a cold, sick feeling crawling up your throat. Your hands shook uncontrollably and you felt like you might throw up.

Deep down, you knew you weren’t alone, but you were desperate to prove yourself wrong—desperate to quiet the voice in your head screaming that something was watching you.

Myung-gi smiled at your obliviousness. From beneath your bed, he watched as you ran through the apartment, panic spilling from your body like perfume.

He shifted slightly, adjusting the grip on the gun resting in his lap. He didn’t want to use it—he never wanted to hurt you. This was just a precaution, something to keep things from spiraling. He knew how emotions could get in the way of love.

You stumbled through the apartment for another fifteen minutes, frantically opening doors, tossing blankets, your breath loud and uneven. It hurt him to see you like this. He loved you, and seeing you this distressed made something twist in his chest.

Eventually, he decided it was time.

Crawling out slowly from under the bed, he crept toward the doorway of the room you were in. You were facing away, knees deep in a closet, tossing around forgotten clothes and boxes from years past. He paused for a moment, just watching. You looked so beautiful like this—raw, vulnerable, real.

Each step he took was calculated, soundless. He didn’t want to startle you too early. He wanted to ease you into this—help you understand. He only wanted to keep you safe, to preserve the light he saw in you.

You were still crouched at the closet, rifling through old clothes, breath shaky. As you shifted, you caught something in the edge of the mirror across the room—a shape, a figure. Your breath hitched.

You turned your head, heart slamming against your ribs as you saw him; Myung-gi. Standing just behind you, eyes wide, chest rising and falling like he’d been holding his breath.

“Myung-gi…?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What are you doing—”

Before you could move, his hand shot out, pressing a gloved palm over your mouth as he yanked you back against him. You screamed into the fabric, kicking, thrashing wildly, panic surging through you like electricity.

“Shh” he whispered into your ear, breath hot, trembling. “Just be quiet. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

You didn’t listen, you couldn’t. You were was running on pure fear. You fought harder, body working on instinct, blind terror surging through your limbs.

“Stop moving.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “Before you make me put this gun to your head.”

Then you felt it—cold metal, unmistakable, pressing against your temple. Still shaking, you froze—everything in you locked up.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a moment, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat, loud and frantic, like it was trying to escape your chest.

“That’s better,” he murmured softly. “See? It’s okay now.”

Your eyes burned with tears, muscles locked with terror. He held you there for several seconds, like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to give in.

Then came the sharp scent, the cloth. Your vision blurred, tunneled. The strength in your body drained all at once, knees buckling beneath you. His voice faded into static, and then—

Black.

Time didn’t pass the way it should have. There was no clear sense of how long you were out—just the slow, creeping awareness of silence pressing down like fog.

The hard floor sat beneath your cheek, a dull ache in your limbs reverberating through your body. Your head throbbed, pulsing behind your eyes like something was trying to claw its way out.

You couldn’t move, not yet. Everything felt heavy, like your body didn’t belong to you. Then, a voice sounded from behind you. It was soft, familiar.

“Hey” Myung-gi whispered. “You’re awake.”

You tried to open your eyes, but everything was blurred. A light flickered above you, casting long shadows on the walls. Your wrists burned—something tight wrapped around them. Rope, duct tape—you couldn’t tell.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up” he said, sitting beside you, his hand brushing your hair from your face with disturbing gentleness. “You scared me.”

He sighed, almost shamefully, as he looked down at you.

“You don’t get it yet, do you? That this is better. For both of us.”

He stood up slowly, pacing in the dim light. Wherever you were—it wasn’t your apartment. The air reeked of dust, like old wood and basement rot. You could make out shelves, boxes, shadows of things stacked against concrete walls.

He'd taken you somewhere else, somewhere no one would find you. “You’ll thank me” he murmured, voice drifting behind you. “One day, when everything finally makes sense.”

You tried to scream, but nothing came out. All you could do was lay there, heartbeat roaring in your ears, as he hummed softly to himself in the dark. The crusted streaks of old tears clung to your skin as you watched Myung-gi pace. Why was he doing this? Why you?

Suddenly, he squatted down in front of you, face inches from yours, eyes dark and unreadable. “You know,” he said softly, tilting his head, “you don’t even have to love me.”

You stared frozen as his voice dropped into something almost gentle.

“I don’t care about all that performative stuff—it’s fake. I just need you to understand that we’re perfect for each other.” His eyes widened, pupils blown, mouth twitching at the corners.

“Do you feel it too?” he asked, breath quickening. “The way my body feels like it’s gonna explode when I’m around you?” He grabbed your bound hands, clutching them tightly in his own. “It’s like fire under my skin.”

You flinched, instinctively pulling back, your whole body tensing. Suddenly, his face twisted with rage. “Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his fist into the floor beside you.

You yelped and recoiled, curling inward, arms shielding your head, breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Why are you so fucking scared of me?” he spat, pacing now, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I did all this for you! I—I made it perfect!” He stopped. Silence stretched thin in the room.

Then his voice softened again, broken and trembling. “Shit… I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He knelt beside you again, brushing your hair back from your face with trembling fingers.

“You’re just overwhelmed. That’s okay. I knew it’d take time.” His smile returned—small, shaky, too calm. “I’ll wait. I can be patient. You’ll see… once you calm down, you’ll see everything clearly.”

You didn’t move, you couldn’t. Every part of you felt like it was sinking, as if your body had left in a pile of quicksand with nobody around to help.

He stayed crouched beside you once again, one hand resting on your shoulder as the other still gently stroked your cheek like he was comforting a child. His breath was steady now, as well as his voice.

“You don’t have to talk yet” he whispered, almost sweetly. “I know you’re scared, I get it. The world’s full of liars and users and people who only want you when it’s easy.”

He smiled at you like he was telling a secret. “But not me, I want you always. Even like this—especially like this.”

Your eyes flicked toward the locked door. You’d heard it click earlier when he dragged you in. No windows in the room, just a single low bulb above your head casting a sickly yellow glow over the concrete walls. This wasn’t a basement—it was a tomb.

“Don’t look over there,” he said suddenly, his fingers tightening on your arm. “Don’t even think about leaving. That’s just the fear talking. When that goes away, you’ll realize how good this can be.”

You opened your mouth, lips trembling, but no words came out. He leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“I know you don’t believe me yet, but you will.” Myung-gi whispered. “You’ll see that I’d never let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe now.”

You were shaking uncontrollably and still—he smiled. Like he’d won this sick love game.

“Now,” he said, pulling away slowly, “you rest. I’ll bring food later—something sweet. You like that, right?” He stood up, brushing the dust from his pants, and looked down at you with that same sick devotion in his eyes.

“I’ll be right outside” he added, almost proud “You won’t even have to call.” Then he turned and walked out, the door closing with a soft, final click behind him.

The lock turned, and you were alone again. With nothing but your heartbeat, the sound of your own ragged breathing—and the lingering echo of his voice still whispering in your ear: "You were always meant to be mine."

It had been four days.

Four days locked in the same suffocating room, the same flickering light, the same stale air pressing down on your lungs. You stopped crying after the first day. Not because you weren’t scared anymore—but because it didn’t help. Nothing did.

Myung-gi had changed—no, evolved. Something inside him was slowly unraveling, thread by thread, exposing the thing he’d kept hidden beneath his soft voice and trembling hands.

At first, he was quiet—careful, almost gentle. Now, he never stopped talking.

He paced constantly, muttering to himself under his breath. His words came fast, sometimes incoherent—about your future together. About people who “didn’t understand,” about fate and purity and how you were the only thing keeping him sane.

Sometimes he laughed at nothing. Other times, he’d sit across from you, staring for what felt like hours, eyes glazed over, lips barely parted, like he was studying something fragile and sacred. You learned not to look him in the eyes when he got like that.

That morning, he came in without knocking. The door slammed against the wall, his hands twitching, mouth moving before the words caught up.

“You’re still not eating.” he hissed. “Why? Hm? Do you think I poisoned it? Is that it?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to stay calm. “No—I just—I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit!” he screamed, and the plate shattered against the wall beside you, scrambled eggs sliding down the concrete like vomit.

You recoiled instinctively, knees pulled tight to your chest. Immediately, his expression snapped back—too fast. A smile stretched across his face like a mask, shaky and too wide.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he said, kneeling beside you. “It’s just… I get scared, you know? You make me feel things no one else ever has. That’s real, right? You feel it too, you have to.”

He cupped your cheek with a shaking hand, thumb brushing just beneath your eye. “I hear you at night.” he whispered. “When you think I’m not listening. You cry in your sleep. You say my name—you need me.”

His face inched closer to yours, breath warm and sour. “That’s how I know we’re right. You’re breaking now—but it’s okay. Love takes time, you’ll see soon enough.”

You said nothing, sitting frozen in that spot for what felt like hours. You were still beneath his touch, praying for him to leave, for the door to shut again. But he didn’t, not this time.

He crouched beside you, hands folded neatly as if he were trying to look nonthreatening. His lips curved into a soft smile, but his eyes didn’t match—too wide, too bright, twitching just slightly at the corners.

“You’re doing better,” he said, voice low, almost cooing. “I can feel it. You’re starting to calm down, starting to see me.” He reached out and gently massaged your hair at the scalp.

“I knew you’d come around eventually. You just needed some time, some silence, some—some real love for once.” His hand lingered on your face, stroking your cheek like he was petting something fragile and breakable. You didn’t dare move. Then, his voice dropped into a whisper.

“You don’t even realize how lucky you are, do you?” He stood up sharply and started pacing, fingers twitching, his breath speeding up as his smile faded into something vacant.

“I cleaned for you, I watched you—every single day. Do you know how careful I was? How long I waited?” he hissed, hands gesturing wildly now. “And you—you act like I’m some kind of monster.”

He stopped mid-step and turned to face you again, that broken grin returning to his lips.

“But I’m not. No, no, no— I’m not the bad guy here,” he said, tapping a finger to his temple. “I’m the only one who’s ever paid attention, the only one who cares.”

He crouched beside you again—lower this time, close enough for you to smell the sweat on his skin, to see the blood vessels flaring in his eyes. “I’ve seen how the world treats girls like you,” he whispered. “Like you're nothing but an object—a toy..”

Suddenly, he slammed his fist into the wall beside your head—hard, loud enough to make you jump and cry out. “I gave up EVERYTHING for you!”

You flinched, hands trembling violently. The rage vanished from his face just as quickly as it came. His breathing slowed, and he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed like he was savoring the moment.

“You make me better. Even when you’re scared. Even when you don’t say a word—I feel… complete.” He stood again, nodding, staring up at the ceiling like he was receiving instructions only he could hear.

“I’ll bring you something tomorrow. Something new, something beautiful. Maybe white lace, you’d look like an angel in it.” He paused in the doorway, back still to you. “Get some sleep” he said, too softly. “You’ll want to be perfect for the ceremony.”

He didn’t explain what he meant—he didn’t need to. The lock clicked, and for the first time, you let yourself cry freely. Not out of panic, but out of pure, helpless dread.

Because now it was clear; tomorrow, something was going to happen, and whatever it was wouldn’t be something you’d walk away from.

You didn’t sleep, even when you closed your eyes, your mind kept spinning. Your body ached from the cold floor, wrists raw from the old, rotting rope. Every creak of the pipes, every flicker of the bulb made your stomach turn.

"Ceremony."

The word echoed over and over in your mind like a siren. You didn’t know what he meant—wedding? ritual? a fantasy he’d been building in his head for weeks? Whatever it was, it felt final.

You stared at the locked door, trying to calm your breathing. He was sleeping, he had to be. You’d heard his footsteps grow distant, heard the soft squeak of a mattress near you. Wherever he stayed when he wasn’t down here.

You couldn’t wait anymore. You felt the panic rise in your chest again, heavy and bitter like vomit. But you swallowed it down, you couldn’t give up.

Your wrists burned from the rope, the skin rubbed raw and tender, but no matter how you twisted or pulled, they wouldn’t come free. You’d tried for hours—quietly, patiently, rubbing the knot against anything with an edge. It didn’t loosen. If anything, it only dug deeper.

Looking around the room, your eyes scanned every corner. The shelves, the pipes along the ceiling, the single bulb flickering overhead, and then—the door. The hinges, they were on your side.

Your fingers trembled, bound and awkward, but you shuffled toward the shelves, dropping to your knees. You couldn’t grab much with your hands tied, but after a few frantic tries, you managed to catch a piece of thin metal—something rusted and sharp.

You dragged it toward you, nearly cutting your palm as you adjusted your grip. Then, shuffling to the door, you leaned sideways and started jamming the tool against the bottom hinge. You couldn’t do it fast—your hands were too restricted—but the screw started to move just slightly.

A spark of hope flickered as you kept going, teeth clenched, body shaking. The sound of metal grinding filled the room in short, sharp bursts. Every noise made you freeze, but nothing came.

Then, just as you were beginning to shift the second screw— footsteps sounded through your ears. Fast, heavy, and directly above you.

You froze, pulse thundering in your ears. Dropping the piece of metal, your body instinctively curling up, as if hiding could somehow undo what you’d just done.

Silence, then: “You’re awake.”

His voice came through the door like a cold wind, too calm to be safe. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he continued, slower now, amused. “That’s okay. I couldn’t sleep either. I was too excited.”

You stayed completely still, heart racing, chest heaving with shallow breaths. He was silent for a moment, then spoke up gently “You know, I really hoped you’d behave.”

The door handle turned. “You were doing so well.”

You started shaking, inching backward as fast as you could with your bound hands and trembling legs. The metal tool clattered beside you, useless now.

The door creaked open, and there he was, standing in the doorway like somebody summoned him. He looked down at you, eyes wide and glistening with something that almost resembled heartbreak. His smile was gone.

“Were you trying something?” You slid back slowly, eyes fixed on the door. You didn’t answer. The doorknob turned slowly, and you realized—he'd never gone to sleep.

He didn’t move toward you at first—just stood there, scanning the room as if he needed to memorize it.

Then he looked at you. Not that wide, boyish smile he used when he was pretending to be gentle—no, this one was thinner, cracked around the edges, like something rotten sat behind his teeth.

“I watched you breathe all night” he said softly, his voice disturbingly calm. “Every rise and fall, like music.”

He took a few slow steps closer, crouching near your feet but not touching you. His eyes darted along your face, hungry, glassy, burning.

“You don’t get it yet, but I’ve loved you for so long, loved you so hard.” He laughed to himself, a dry breath that held no joy. “You were mine the second I saw you.”

You flinched, and he leaned in just a little closer, eyes never leaving yours.

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispered. “I’d kill for you. I’d rip my fucking heart out if it meant you’d just look at me the way you look at strangers on the street.”

His tone shifted again, suddenly bitter. “But you never saw me, did you? You just smiled and led me on like I was nobody.” His jaw clenched. “I sat on buses with you, ate at the same places, walked behind you to your house so you'd be safe.”

He looked down at his trembling hands. “I didn’t even touch you. Not once. I waited, I gave you time—I earned this.” His eyes lifted again, dark and wild.

“You think this is wrong? You think I’m crazy?” he hissed, the words shaking. “No no, what’s crazy is you walking around like you’re not the most important thing in the world. What’s crazy is you thinking someone else could ever love you more than I do.”

He stood suddenly, hands in his hair now, pacing in a frantic circle. “You were out there talking to strangers, laughing, breathing near other men like it didn’t mean anything—but it did. It did.”

He turned on you again, rage flickering behind the tears in his eyes. “You don’t understand what it does to me when I see that. When I imagine you in someone else’s house, someone else’s bed—”

He stopped, swallowed, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “But that’s okay, because I’ve got you now. No more mistakes, no more distractions. You’re gonna love me—I’ll make you love me.”

You stared, frozen in place, your bound hands useless in your lap, lungs barely moving. Then he dropped to his knees again, crawling toward you, gaze hollow but oddly soft.

“You don’t even have to say it,” he whispered, his face inches from yours. “I’ll wait as long as I have to, and when it finally happens—when you finally get it—it’ll be perfect.”

His voice cracked. “I just want to be inside your head,” he whispered, eyes wide, unblinking. “So deep you can’t hear yourself think without hearing me.”

Then, quieter, he spoke “I want to be the reason you stop sleeping. The voice behind your eyes, the ache in your ribs. I want to take up so much space inside you that there’s nothing left for anyone else.”

He leaned closer, inches from your face now. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “I can feel it already. It’s starting, isn’t it? The way your heart beats faster when I’m near. Even when you’re scared, you’re still beautiful.”

He stared at you for a beat longer, then pressed a kiss to your bound knuckles. It wasn’t tender—it felt like branding.

Then he stood, and just like that, the heat in the room vanished. He turned his back to you, voice now light, like he was discussing something casual.

“I’m going to cook you breakfast tomorrow,” he said cheerfully, like you hadn’t just watched him fall apart in front of you. “Something warm, maybe eggs, or oatmeal. Something soft for your stomach.”

He started walking toward the door, humming softly to himself. It was off-key and slow—almost childlike. “Oh,” he added, just before slipping out, “you’ll wear something different too. I’ve laid it out already. It’s… more fitting.”

The door creaked shut behind him and you were alone again. Except you weren’t, not really. His presence clung to the room like humidity—thick, sticky, and impossible to breathe through.

Your stomach twisted at the thought of the clothes he mentioned, of what tomorrow might mean. You lowered your head, ropes burning against your raw wrists, trying to keep your breath steady. But deep down, a small voice was screaming; You were running out of time.

Time blurred as the air turned stale. You lost count of how many hours passed. You closed your eyes and forced your body still, hoping your mind would follow—but every flicker of darkness behind your lids was worse than what you could see. You kept imagining him standing over you—watching, smiling.

Then suddenly, the bulb buzzed to life, blinding in the pitch-black room. You flinched instinctively, body curling into itself as the sudden brightness cut through the thick fog of exhaustion.

Footsteps followed. They were those same slow, measured steps you'd memorized—and grown to hate. He was humming again, like a child playing pretend. You heard the keys jingle just before the lock twisted.

Myung-gi stepped inside with a tray in his hands. A bowl, a glass of water, and what looked like a slice of toast cut into a perfect heart. “I made breakfast” he said softly, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Setting the tray down in front of you like he was offering peace, his gaze scanned your face, trying to read your expression like it held a secret. “I hope you like it” he added, “You should eat before we get you dressed.”

Your stomach turned. You hadn’t seen what he laid out, but the way he said it made your whole body tense. Turning your face away from his hand, you pressed your cheek to your shoulder.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, in a much quieter voice, he said, “Don’t do that.” It was so soft it didn’t register as a threat until you looked back up and saw the way his face had shifted. The smile was gone again, jaw tight like it was about to break.

“I said I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he murmured, eyes darkening slowly. “So don’t make me.”

He stood abruptly, dragging a small chair from the wall and setting it in front of you, backward. He straddled it, arms crossed over the top, chin resting lazily on them like he had nowhere else in the world to be.

He reached down and picked up the toast heart, holding it between two fingers like a strange offering. “Eat.” he said softly. “You’ll need it.” Then he grinned, “We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

He stood slowly, walked over to a drawer by the far wall, and pulled something out—carefully folded, wrapped in plastic. A pale pink dress. “I want you to wear this,” he said, walking it over and setting it neatly on the tray. “It’s important for today.”

Your stomach turned just looking at it. “Can I… have privacy?” you asked, voice shaking.

He blinked, and for a long second, he didn’t move. Then something strange flickered in his eyes—like surprise, then delight. “Of course you can,” he said softly, almost too softly. “You’re still my girl, I trust you.”

He crouched and slowly undid the ropes around your wrists, fingers brushing your skin longer than necessary. You bit down the panic, keeping your breathing even, waiting for your moment.

Once free, he stepped back. "I’ll be right here" He said, turning around in a corner to shield himself from your body. "Just shout when you're done."

As soon as his face was completely out of sight, your mind exploded with clarity. A voice screaming inside you; run.

Your body moved on instinct. You didn’t even look at the dress, you didn’t even feel the floor under your feet. You bolted.

Across the room, through the hallway.

The front door, the exit.

You grabbed the handle with both hands, heart exploding in your chest. But there were locks, so many locks. Bolts, chains, a twist bar, a digital keypad. Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with them, hands slick with sweat.

Then behind you, the sound of footsteps—fast. You turned around quickly, chest heaving from adrenaline.

Myung-gi stood in the hallway, panting raggedly, hair a tangled mess. His pupils were blown wide, shirt half-unbuttoned as he stood barefoot. He looked like something hollowed him out and stitched the pieces back wrong.

"Why," he said, voice shaking with rage and disbelief, "would you make me do this?"

You backed against the door, scrambling with the top lock.

But not fast enough.

His hand shook as he raised the gun, face trembling—not with sadness now, but pure hysteria. “You weren’t supposed to leave,” he whispered.

And then—

‘BANG!’

The shot rang out, deafening. Pain exploded through your leg, red-hot and instant. You dropped to the ground screaming, the impact making your head snap back against the door.

Blood smeared under your thigh as your body curled up in agony, your hands instinctively trying to hold the wound, stop the blood, the burning.

He was walking toward you now. Slow, measured. His eyes were wet with tears, smile gone. But something stood out—the gun still in his hand, and the expression in his face that looked nothing like love anymore.

Reaching down and snatching your unwounded leg in a tight grip, Myung-gi started to drag your body through the house. Nails in the floor dug into your back and ripped skin off as you screamed, grabbing onto anything you could—hoping, praying to make the dragging stop.

Catching a glass vase in your hands, you acted on pure instinct and flung your arm forward, chucking the glass straight at his head.

“Fuck!” he shouted, stumbling back and clutching his head with his free hand. Blood leaked through his fingers as you kicked your leg violently, desperate to break free.

But he was stronger, manlier. Gripping your ankle even tighter now, Myung-gi looked back at you with blood dripping down his face. Every bit of softness he once had was gone—replaced with pure, wild insanity.

Tilting his head slightly, he pulled the gun from his back pocket again and, without hesitation, fired a bullet straight through the center of your palm.

You let out a lung-rupturing scream, staring at your hand—now gushing blood, a ragged hole burned through the middle. You couldn’t hold it in anymore.

You screamed, cried, let everything out. Every inch of your body burned with pain. You felt like you could pass out—you should've passed out—but you didn’t.

The pain pulsed through your body like electricity, every heartbeat sharpening it. Your leg was useless. Your hand, ruined. Blood smeared across the floor beneath you. Yet still, Myung-gi held on.

Without a word, he started up again, pulling you across the floor like a rag doll. His face was blank now—no trace of rage, no joy, just a cold, eerie stillness. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a second, you swore you saw pity.

You screamed again as your back scraped along the wooden floor, nails coming from the ground ripping your skin like paper.

You reached for furniture, walls, anything, but nothing helped. He dragged you through the hallway, past the shattered vase and overturned chair, past the kitchen where the breakfast still sat—untouched and already going cold.

You knew where he was taking you. The door you'd been trapped in for days, never having a second of daylight; the basement.

“No” you choked out, voice nearly gone. “Please—please, Myung-gi, stop…”

He didn’t answer, just pulled the door open with his free hand, revealing a narrow staircase swallowed by shadows. It smelled like mold and metal, damp wood and bleach.

Your body thrashed weakly, but it was no use. You were already half inside.

The stairs creaked as he hauled your limp body downward, one step at a time. Your broken hand hung uselessly at your side, blood dripping with every jolt. Your vision was swimming while the cold air swallowed you. Soon after, the door creaked shut behind him, plunging you both into darkness.

The light buzzed to life above you with a loud, electric snap. The basement was worse than you remembered—maybe because now you were seeing it knowing what was coming. The chair was still there, so were the ropes.

Myung-gi let go of your leg and stood upright, breathing hard. He didn’t look at you for a long moment. He just stared ahead, silent, hands twitching at his sides.

“You’re pretty fucking bratty,” he said again, voice lower now, teeth clenched. “Did all this for you. Everything.”

He took a few slow steps towards the far wall where a row of tools hung neatly—like part of a workshop. You hadn’t noticed them before, or maybe your mind had refused to.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths as you watched him select something. His hand hovered, then closed around it.

An axe.

Large and slightly rusted—like he’d used it once and put it up for display. Your body went still. Myung-gi turned towards you once again. now dragging the blade behind him. The scraping sound it made against the cement floor was slow and rhythmic—almost teasing.

“I didn’t want it to be like this” he said, voice shaking. “You made me do this. I love you—I love you so much it hurts. But you don’t listen, you just keep running.”

You tried to crawl backwards using your one good arm, your wounded leg dragging helplessly behind you. “Please.” you rasped. “Please help me... You don’t have to—”

But he was already lifting it.

And before another word could leave your lips, the blade came down—fast and jagged, slicing across your chest with a shallow slash.

You couldn't even scream. Frozen in pain, you laid still in the same spot. Breathing—barely, but still alive nonetheless. You stared up blankly at Myung-gi's blurry face, silently pleading for the torture to stop.

His eyes twitched, unfocused, almost dazed as he stared down at you—like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. Like you were the one who forced it to happen.

Then, slowly, methodically, he adjusted his grip on the axe. With one last inhale, he brought it down again—this time lower, heavier, landing hard in the center of your chest.

Your body convulsed violently, the air ripped clean from your lungs. You didn’t feel the sharpness as much as you felt the weight—a crushing force that cracked through your bones like old wood.

Blood spilled out in waves now, warm and endless, pooling beneath you like a dark halo. Your body began to shut down, nerves firing in chaotic bursts, every part of you pulsing with agony.

You weren’t moving anymore.

No twitching fingers, no pleading breath, no more glassy, blinking stares. Just stillness—silence. Blood reached the bottoms of his feet, warm and sticky. The sound of it dripping echoed in the basement like a slow, ticking clock.

Finally, Myung-gi dropped the axe. It hit the concrete with a dull, wet 'clank', but he barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on your body—limp, twisted, a lifeless version of everything he once adored.

He dropped to his knees beside you. For a moment, he didn’t speak, just stared. Then, carefully, he reached forward and rubbed your bloodied face with his hand

"You're so beautiful." he spoke, smudging crimson around your cheek. "It's so peaceful when you're quiet, isn't it?"

He laughed, but it cracked halfway through, twisting into a sob. A sudden, sharp sound tore from his chest as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, shaking.

“I didn’t mean to do it like this...” he gasped, voice breaking apart. “You were supposed to see me—love me. Not leave me.”

His hands clutched your body, pulling you into his arms. Blood soaked into his clothes, pooling in his lap, but he didn’t care. He rocked you gently like a doll, murmuring apologies between dry, choking breaths.

“I didn’t want to.” he kept repeating. “I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to…”

His voice broke into silence, only the hum of the basement light remained, and the sound of him holding something that could never hold him back.

"Don't go yet… please" He begged, staring down at your cold, bloody body. Tears fell from his face onto yours as he sobbed loudly, snot pouring out of his nose. "I need you forever, even if it's only a part of you." He couldn't bear the thought of losing you completely, clinging to any remnant he could find.

Looking at the shredded pieces of skin and meat hanging off of your chest, Myung-gi sniffed softly. There was a way you could be closer to him than ever—inside of his body.

He bent down quickly, taking the fragments of your chest inside of his mouth. It was bitter—sour even, just like you before your demise. He kept chewing, crushing the rubbery bits of body between his molars.

His mouth was littered with the taste of blood—but none of that mattered. It was yours. The act felt like a final, twisted embrace. A desperate attempt to keep you with him always.

But it wasn’t enough. Even if it dulled the ache for now, he knew it would crawl back—hungrier, louder, more feral than before.

His hand trembled as he reached for the gun lying on the floor beside him. The metal felt weird against his skin—cold, distant, like it belonged to someone else entirely. He pressed the barrel to his temple, breath shuddering.

Silence pressed slowly, just him, the gun, and the weight of everything he’d destroyed. Closing his eyes with a slow, trembling breath, he pulled the trigger.

The blast shattered the silence, echoing through the basement like the end of a symphony. His body dropped beside yours with a heavy thud—limp and final.

Blood spilled out, meeting yours in the middle, mixing into the cracked concrete like a signature neither of you could take back. Two lives, forever tangled in violence and delusion.

As the last of his breath slipped away, a single tear traced down his cheek and fell onto yours. It lingered there—quiet and cold. Myung-gi died with a smile, satisfied by the twisted peace he'd crafted—because in his mind, you were his forever.

But your peace would never come, not even in death. Because even in the afterlife, you were still bound to him—tethered to the madness he called love.

Forever.

[moontabi]

can u write dae ho x reader who still sleeps with stuffed animals please? thank you!!

do they have names? ✩ kang dae-ho

pairing: dae-ho x reader who still sleeps with stuffed animals

warnings: none!

a/n: thank you for the request anon!! as someone who still sleeps with stuffed animals.. i just knew i had to write this☺️

also please comment below the name of your stuffed animals because i’m curious and i think it’s so cute— mine’s named fluffy 🐈‍⬛

 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 

• dae-ho thinks it’s so cute and endearing that you still sleep with stuffed animals. even if you’re a little embarrassed about it, cheeks pink as you show him the pile of stuffed animals on your bed, he doesn’t care. 

• will learn all the names of your stuffed animals and actually take it seriously. if you have any backstories to any of the stuffed animals, he’s gonna try his best to understand them. 

“wait, so these two are married?”

• the type to kiss all of your stuffed animals goodnight🥹 every individual one. if you fall asleep before dae-ho, he’ll tuck your favorite stuffed animal into bed with you, and kiss your temple softly before climbing under the covers with you. 

• he’ll buy you new stuffed animals all the time. whether it’s one you saw in the store window and fell in love with, or just one that he swore reminded him of you, he’ll buy it, and sometimes he’ll even name them. 

• dae-ho refers to himself as the “dad” of your stuffed animals. and trust me, he’s more than happy to be a father to stuffed animals. 

• i don’t think dae-ho had a stuffed animal of his own growing up, but maybe just a comfort blankie. it’s a little tattered but he’ll show it to you sheepishly, murmuring something about how it was his favorite growing up. 

[moontabi]

can i lick please?

[moontabi]

NEED THATTTTT

[moontabi]

smell ya later — thanos scent kink hcs

pairing: thanos x f!reader

warning: nsfw, read under the cut! sorta proofread

sweat kink thanos! who loves watching you try on different perfumes, letting you bring the bottle up to his nose to give him a whiff

sweat kink thanos! who indulges in your wishes, buying your cart for you so you don’t have to choose between vanilla and citrus

sweat kink thanos! who watches you with a grin as you happily apply the perfume, giving your ass a playful squeeze when you cuddle up to him, thanking him for spoiling you

sweat kink thanos! who secretly hides your perfumes —the ones he bought you! — when summer comes around, sympathizing with you when you complain about the heat and humidity making you soak your undergarments with sweat

sweat kink thanos! who brings you to ice cream parlors, hungry eyes glued to your lips as your tongue lolls out of your mouth, lapping up the creamy goodness

sweat kink thanos! who switches his car seats to leather during the summer, for the sole purpose of seeing the outline of sweat your pussy makes when you get up

sweat kink thanos! who waits for you to get out before pressing his nose to the leather, inhaling your scent deeper than any vape he’s sucked on

sweat kink thanos! who loves being clingy with you as the temperature rises. it’s become second nature by now, feeling the rapper nose at your neck, breath ticking your skin.

sweat kink thanos! who whines if you refuse him, complaining that he’s ‘just trying to get his fix of you’

sweat kink thanos! who offers to do your laundry for you after hearing you complain about sweating through your clothes.

sweat kink thanos! who grins like a madman, pocketing your damp, salty underwear — a toy for later!

sweat kink thanos! who presses your soaked panties to his face, nose devouring your essence on the cloth that was just pressed to your cunt a few hours ago. his other hand works tirelessly, fisting at his cock as he moans at you

sweat kink thanos! who’s mouth suckles on the dampness of the undergarment, coating his own hand with cum the moment he tastes you on his tongue

sweat kink thanos! who — despite your requests — is automatically nosing at your pussy the moment you get home after a looong shift at work

sweat kink thanos! is eager. his ego flies completely out of the window at the thought of your sweaty cunt pressed to his lips, your scent overtaking his own

sweat kink thanos! who almost cums his pants when you agree to let him fuck your armpit, dick throbbing at the thought of his precum and your sweat acting as the perfect lubricant

sweat kink thanos! who’ll use your armpit as a gateway to use any part of your body that gathers sweat as his own fucktoy. the backs of your knees, between your thighs, don’t be surprised if he asks to stick his cock between your feet next!

sweat kink thanos! who’ll try to get you just as obsessed with his natural scent and sweat. he’ll skip the post-gym shower, hair and body damp with sweat as he presses up against you, his tongue finding solace shoved down your throat

sweat kink thanos! who can never go back to clean and tidy sex, only being able to finish with the messiest, sweatiest, spit and squirt-coated orgasms

☆彡

a/n: are yall shocked? this is definitely not the regularly scheduled program HAHA- is this my thanos debut? i had this thought in my head for a bit but i wasn’t sure if it’d fit with namgyu, so i gave it to good ‘ol subong

let me know how yall like this! thanks for tuning in, feedback is read and appreciated!

☆彡

tag list:

@namgyucat @dgaftilwedie @cybrasigilism @nuttybeans @miss-conjayniality @rohjaewonlvr @ffsjustletmesleep @allmyocsarebritish @namgyushands @celestialmatcha7 @preppyfellaa @princeofkhaenri-ah @jennie-xqv27777 @flwerangii @hhrtfelt @moontabi

[moontabi]

I MIGHT SAY SOMETHING STUPID ; Choi Seunghyun

track 04 of the BRAT SUMMER CHALLENGE

@gdinthehouseee thank you so much letting me be apart of this, and for being so sweet and kind 🤍

pairing : Choi Seunghyun x Fem!Reader

genre : fluff

description : You and Seunghyun have been dating for a few years now, and five minutes before a concert, there’s a sent text to the wrong number, about how he wants to marry you.

; ; ;

Being in love with Seunghyun was like living in two worlds at once.

There was the public world, the one filled with overly bright, flashing lights, airport papparazzi, the never ending thought of whether he would be seen by media everytime he walked out the door. That Seunghyun was polished. Perfect.

And then there was your Seunghyun. The one who couldn’t cook to save his life but insisted on trying for your sake - because he felt bad you were the one cooking everything recently and wanted to surprise you. Which later ending up with the smoke alarm blaring, causing you to wake up and the sweet surprise to be ruined. But you were happy.

The one who left post-its in your planner when he knew you had a rough week. The one who called you “jagiya” with the sleepiest voice at 3am after rehearsals.

You’d been together for nearly a three years now. Not secretly. But quietly. In your own world, away from the media, where the public eye hadn’t a clue about what happens in your relationship. And he intended to keep it like that - shielding you from the brutality of his world.

It was worth it though, every delayed date, every hidden goodbye, every half-second of panic when someone looked at you a little too long in the same café he’d just left.

But still, there were moments when you wondered if the private lifestyle ever wore on him, the way it sometimes wore on you. In the sense that you guys had to be so careful with everything you did, every step you took, every movement.

Tonight was the final stop of BIGBANG’s MADE tour. You were seated discreetly backstage, tucked toward the side where no camera would ever catch you. Your lanyard said “Guest”, your hoodie was unbranded, but your heart? That was screaming.

He looked good. too good; on stage, hair slightly damp with sweat, eyes full of fire, and a smile that made your heart clench, as he performed like he was born for it. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing he’d texted you.

Seunghyun had done this a hundred times; tighten his in-ear monitors, run vocal warmups half-heartedly while bouncing his knee, let a stylist fuss over his hair. But tonight, the adrenaline was sharper. Everything was a little louder, a little faster. Probably because he knew you were there.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing he’d texted you.

Because it wasn’t what he meant to send.

-

The backstage area was a whirlwind of activity. Staff members hustled to and fro, finalizing last-minute details before the concert. Seunghyun stood near his dressing room, his phone in hand, attempting to send a message to his group chat. His fingers moved quickly, composing a playful message to his members.

“Bro this is the last tour stop, after this i’m proposing for real” he sent to the BIGBANG group chat, one that had a profile picture of the four members in their early days.

“she has no idea” Youngbae wrote back, tucked away in his own dressing room as if he had all the time in the world.

“you got a ring yet Hyung?”

“Can we be there when you do it?”

A staff member rolled by warning him five minutes, to which he absentmindedly nodded, turning his phone back on once he picked up his sunglasses, which were purely for decoration, and was greeted with his phone wallpaper. A picture of you he took not long into the relationship but was still his favourite to this day, you were sipping coffee at 7am, half asleep on his sofa, curled under his arm, trying not to fall back asleep when he snapped the picture the moment you looked at the camera with the same smile he fell in love with.

“I might say something stupid though like, ‘please let me marry you’” He wrote back quickly, hurriedly, trying to not fall behind concert schedule. Him and Jiyongs rooms were right next to each other, and the two walked to where the stage would lift them up, their conversation carrying on as they then stood with the other two members.

A message whirled through to his phone. A simple, ‘what? are you serious?!’ from you. His first thought was that he had done something wrong, something stupid like not bringing you fresh coffee, or not telling you the concert was starting. Until he opened the chat to check. And there was his message.

Wrong chat.

Wrong fucking chat.

The one that outright said he wanted to marry you, and suddenly he was already sweating half of his stage makeup off in a panic frenzy, showing the other members the situation, muttering curses under his breath.

The message was in a private conversation.

With you.

His girlfriend.

You, who had no idea he’d already been to two jewelers. You, who still blushed when he brushed your hair behind your ear in public.

In all honesty, Youngbae was laughing at his stupidity, whilst Daesung, who was more excited for the proposal then Seunghyun, made a ‘nooo’ as if all hope was over. Jiyong stayed half-quiet, completely shook that he had managed to do that.

His fingers worked quickly once again to type, ‘wrong number baby, ignore that lol i’ll see you after the show’

And suddenly, his friends ‘Yah!’ in protest to his message made him regret sending that.

“Hyung that just makes you sound dumb, or that you wanna marry a different girl” Jiyong commented. Of course you wouldn’t think that. You trusted him, but Seunghyun clearly was overthinking all of this.

With a racing heart and a mind full of dread, he shoved his phone into his pocket and made his way to the stage.

Your heart thudded so loudly you almost didn’t hear the lights go down.

Seunghyun performed like a man possessed. Fans screamed, confetti rained, and the entire stadium vibrated with energy. But all he could think about was how you’d taken the message.

He caught glimpses of you near the wings a few times, but your face was unreadable. Smiling. Cheering. But were you freaking out? Laughing? Panicking?

Did I blow it? he wondered mid-dance break, somehow still hitting every step. Did I just confess via a wrong chat

The final song wrapped with a group bow. He smiled at the crowd, waved, and said all the right things into the mic. But inside, he was bracing for disaster.

Backstage after the show was a whirlwind. Interviews. Quick outfit change. Water bottles shoved into his hand. He snuck away the first chance he got, slipping into a storage hallway where no one would bother him.

A text from you. Ten minutes ago.

“So i also might say something stupid? Like yes?”

He stared at it. Read it again.

Then he let out a shaky breath and laughed. The kind of laugh that came from deep relief and overflowing love.

And that’s when the door creaked open.

You stood there, hoodie sleeves pushed over your hands, your expression unreadable.

“You sent that text to me,” you said softly, as if he wasn’t completely aware.

“I know.” He responded, still gaining his breath back from both the panic and the concert. You looked beautiful. The simple outfit and minimal makeup was the times where he thought you looked somehow more then perfect.

“Meant to send it to the boys?” You questioned gently, a hint of a smile on your face.

“Yeah.”

“Did you mean it?” You asked after a beat. Both your hearts racing like it was your first date all over again n

He nodded briefly, “I did.”

You stepped closer. “So… was that the proposal?” The question came out, as you were entirely unsure of what was going to happen.

He blinked. “Wait, no. No! That wasn’t it. I had a whole plan, with a rooftop and candles and Daesung was gonna-” He trailed off as you started laughing.

“You are such a mess,” you whispered, eyes shining. “But I love that mess.”

He stepped toward you, his hand reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Then let me do it right,” he said, quietly. “Not now. Not here. But when it’s perfect for you.”

You nodded, smiling. “Until then, I’ll just keep pretending I didn’t see that text.”

“You’ll pretend?” He asked, looking down at you with a soft smile, one that was real, as if all the relief was finally washing over him.

“Well… maybe I’ll keep the screenshot. Just in case you ever try to back out.”

Seunghyun grinned. “Now that’s reckless.”

-

A couple weeks later, when sunset was dawning upon Seoul, and a calmness washed over the both of you.

The rooftop was warm under the fairy lights. Summer had settled into the city, and music from a portable speaker played softly in the background.

Seunghyun stood beside you, eyes shining nervously, and his hand, pinky intertwined with yours, his lips ghosting over your forehead before peppering kisses softly, savouring the sweetness of the moment and the way you looked at him when he pulled away.

“I’m not sending this one by text,” he joked.

You laughed, eyes misting over. “Good. Because I already know my answer.”

“The guys wanted to be here but I told them they couldn’t” he quietly told you, before he sank to one knee on the ground, his heart full and his eyes full of adoration.

And this time, when he said something stupid- like Will you marry me? - it was the smartest thing he’d ever done.

[moontabi]

OUT OF THE FIRE : Kwon Jiyong x reader

pairing : obsessive!possesive!jiyong x reader

genre : 18+, kind of dark themes (obsession, possessiveness)

warnings/contents : very suggestive content towards middle/end, no actual smut // MDNI! very slight manipulation? fluff entailed in parts of it.

description : Jiyong has a break in between concerts so what does he do? Spend every last moment with you. Or at least trying to convince you to do so.

requested by : anon : thank you for being patient and for the request 🤍

Jiyong was obsessed. Not in the casual way, but in the most gut wrenchingly soul stricken way. A way that blurs in between the lines of control and love.

You’ve been dating him secretly for over a year, and now that he’s on a break between concerts, he’s practically glued to you, insisting that you stay with him in his penthouse apartment for a week straight.

He doesn’t get angry when you try and put some distance, even if just to go to the bathroom, he gets clingy. Passive-aggressively hides your purse so you ‘can’t leave yet’. Buys you matching designer pajamas and insists on doing skincare routines together. And at night, he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish by morning.

You think it’s a bit much at first, but he’s so soft with you; cooking you breakfast, always wrapping himself around you on the couch, leaving gentle kisses along your cheek and jaw, getting pouty when you even look at your phone too long.

“It is the girls,” you said with a laugh, tilting your head to kiss the top of his hair. “You want me to show you the texts?”

He didn’t answer. Just nuzzled closer, long arms wrapping around your waist as if he was trying to fuse your bodies together. Typical.

Ever since his tour ended, he’d practically barricaded the two of you inside his penthouse apartment. Not in a bad way, you’d wanted time with him too. But it had been five days now, and you were starting to forget what sunlight looked like.

“You’re clingy,” you teased, brushing his hair back from his eyes, with care that made him want to keep you there even longer.

“I haven’t seen you for two months.” Jiyong defended. It’s not like it would make a difference if he wasn’t on tour, he’d still want you completely surrounded by him and his presence.

“You FaceTimed me every night.”

“ ‘s not the same.” His grip tightened a little. “You’re not allowed to leave again for at least a year.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just going to the store.” you tried to reason, but the way his lips pressed against your jaw gently again, and his hand around your waist tightens more, made you resign slightly.

“I’ll order whatever you need baby.” He persuaded, hesitant of even thinking of letting you go.

“I want to go,” you said firmly, stretching your arms. “I need to breathe. You’re gonna have to survive fifteen minutes without me.”

He frowned, like the concept personally offended him. “Is someone meeting you there?”

“What?” You blinked. “No. I’m just going alone.”

“Good,” he muttered, another kiss to your jaw. “No one should be seeing you like this but me.”

You blinked. “Like what?”

“You’re too pretty to be walking around alone,” he said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Someone’s going to look at you the wrong way. And I’ll get upset. You don’t want me upset, do you?”

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t a threat. It was a confession.

You’d seen it before, at shows, at events. The way he wrote the song ‘Ride or die’ for you. The lyrics.

How he tensed up whenever male staff hovered too close to you. How his arm would circle your waist tighter when someone looked at you too long. How he never let go first when he held your hand.

“You’re mine,” he whispered now, lips brushing your cheek. “I like you best where no one else can touch you.”

He stared at you like you’d just declared you were moving to another continent. Then, reluctantly, he let go, but his hand lingered on your hip, his finger looped in one of the belt loops of your jeans.

Still, you left — with a promise to be quick. And even then, your phone buzzed the entire walk.

You were halfway down the street from his apartment building when your phone buzzed.

“Don’t talk to anyone.”

“I saw your location — why did you stop walking?”

“Are you okay?”

“Please come back.”

“I miss you baby.”

“I need you home, Iye and Zoa miss you”

“Now.”

You didn’t text back. Not because you were upset, but because you knew what was waiting.

And when you returned, breath caught in your throat, you found it: the apartment dimly lit, fairy lights glowing, your favorite snacks laid out, a blanket folded with new pajamas on top.

And him, waiting on the couch, jaw clenched, trying so hard not to look relieved.

You dropped your bag.

“I wasn’t gone that long,” you whispered.

“It felt like forever,” he said, rising. “Don’t do that to me again.”

You stepped into his arms without a word. He held you too tightly, like something might come tear you away if he ever let go.

“You know I’ll always come back, right?” you murmured into his chest.

“No.” His voice was firm. “You won’t come back. You won’t leave. I’ll keep you here. Right where you belong.”

It wasn’t a complete truth, he wasn’t psychotic, and he wanted you to have space to breathe, but he was also half serious on keeping you with him all the time

Your heart should’ve raced, but it melted instead.

Because even though his love was obsessive, consuming, maybe a little insane…

It was yours. It was out of pure love and affection.

And you never wanted to belong to anyone else.

You realize Jiyong’s obsession isn’t about control. It’s about fear. Fear of losing the only part of his world that’s real.

By the time you’re pressed against the bedroom door, you’re not sure who reached for who first.

His hands are on your hips, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, and your breath catches as he lifts it over your head in one swift movement, eyes never leaving yours.

“You left me,” he murmurs, voice low, like he’s scolding you.

“I went to the store,” you reply, breathless, one hand tangling in his hair, the other limp around his shoulder.

“For almost an hour.” His fingers slide along your bare skin. “You said fifteen minutes.”

You tilt your chin up, challenging. “So what are you going to do about it?”

His jaw flexes. You see the shift in his eyes, from pouty to possessive.

“I’m going to remind you,” he says, guiding you backward, “that this” he presses a hand flat between your thighs over your underwear, “belongs to me.”

Your breath hitches.

“You like saying things like that,” you whisper, even as you lean into his touch. “You like hearing me say it back.”

He leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Say it, then.”

You feel his fingers press more firmly between your legs, not enough, but almost, and he smirks when your knees buckle slightly.

“I’m yours,” you breathe.

He kisses you then, deep, hungry, claiming. His hands move over your body like he’s trying to memorize you all over again, like you’ve been gone for years instead of hours.

Clothes disappear fast after that.

He lays you on the bed like you’re fragile, but his grip is anything but gentle; a hand wrapped around your thigh, the other trailing possessively along your neck as he settles between your legs.

“My pretty baby” Jiyong murmurs, cupping your jaw gently to make you look at him.

“You’re mine,” he whispers again, voice husky. “No one gets to see you like this. No one gets to touch you. Just me.”

The following morning, you woke up to the weight of Jiyong wrapped around you. Again.

You blinked awake slowly, warm and boneless, limbs tangled in his.

He was already awake.

Jiyong lay half on top of you, eyes heavy-lidded and pouting a little as he blinked down at you, messy hair falling into his eyes. His hand was stroking up and down your bare back in lazy, aimless circles.

“Hi,” you whispered, voice scratchy.

He didn’t say hi back.

“Never leave again,” he murmured instead, tucking your head under his chin. “I mean it this time.”

You gave a tired laugh, voice still half-asleep. “You say that every time I take a step toward the door.”

“I’m serious.”

His fingers curled slightly against your hip. Not hard, just enough to remind you he was there. Still clinging. Still not done with you.

“You could move in,” he said suddenly, voice low, almost too casual.

You froze. Then pulled back a little to look up at him.

“You serious?” You questioned. He chuckled under his breath, pulling your head gently back to his chest, peppering kisses to your hair, gentle unlike how he was last night.

“Yeah..you already have a toothbrush here, I’ll buy you everything you need, I’ve already cleared out space in the closet for you. Plus, the cats hate when you leave” He spoke softly, his hand trailing over your hip now in small, hypnotising circles.

“The cats hate when I leave, or you hate when I leave?”

“Both” He smiled, his lips still against the top of your head, “Just stay..you can stay here when I’m away, and I’ll bring you with me whenever I can”

A beat shuddered between the two of you. You were barely contemplating it, you already knew the answer.

“You planned this?”

“Obsessively,” he said without shame.

You laughed, pressing your forehead to his. “You’re insane.”

“I’m yours,” he corrected, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to kiss you.

And when your arms wrapped around him again — when the kiss deepened, and sunlight broke in through the curtains, and his body settled against yours, you realized you’d already made the decision.

This wasn’t just where you were staying.

This was home.

[moontabi]

that boys a gooner!

based on this request

summ: namgyu’s gooner antics

warning: goon. not proofread!

18+ content, read it below the cut!

nothing can convince me that this man doesn’t have a goon cave, even has a separate device just to store outrageous numbers of different types of porn

nasty with it too, has all sorts of flashlights to pick from, his favorite being the clear ones so he can see how deep his dick reaches into it

being in a relationship with namgyu does not mean he’ll stop his gooning tendencies!! if anything, having a partner gives him an excuse to use your holes instead of his toys <3

one of his favorite categories are threesomes and orgies. he dreams of partnering up with his buddies (team thanos) to absolutely wreck someone

also a pretty huge fan of a role play. usually, his position at work reduces him to someone who works to serve others. being said, he gets unbelievably hard at pov videos, especially when the girl on the screen looks into the camera, calling him ‘master’

namgyu loves getting head as much as the next guy, but what really gets him going is deep throat-fucking. he’s talking balls slapping against chins, drool splattering onto the ground, mascara running down cheeks, borderline vomiting levels of roughness

every now and then, namgyu veers into the darker side of adult videos, opting for scenes of masked men kidnapping innocent girls. as gloved hands tie their victim to a chair, shoving colorful pills down her throat, he’s palming his dick through his pants in anticipation. as he watches her panicked eyes eyes scream for help, namgyu grins as her kidnappers cut her clothes off of her body, knives shining in the darkened room

if you’re his partner and you catch him in the middle of his goon-tivities, he won’t stop. he’ll give you a lazy grin, sliding a fleshlight off of his lubed up dick

“while you’re here, come help me finish the job”

lowkey, goes through boxes of tissues and lotion like it’s water. he needs at least 2 goons a day to keep his sanity, otherwise he’s like a bitchy cat

he never consumes physical pornography, keeps it confined to an ipad like his saved videos are top secret files

i think that him and thanos would send each other links of porn they think the other would like, or videos that made them instantly horny

namgyu definitely has a twitter account specifically dedicated to watching porn, his bookmarks full of his favorite videos (if you’re his partner, he’s sending em to you as reference vids)

same with reddit, he’s in countless communities with names like ‘r/blowjobsgonewild’

☆彡

a/n: i hope this was enough to answer your request? LOL?! drop another ask in my inbox if you’d like a more detailed post!

☆彡

tag list:

@namgyucat @dgaftilwedie @cybrasigilism @nuttybeans @miss-conjayniality @rohjaewonlvr @ffsjustletmesleep @allmyocsarebritish @namgyushands @celestialmatcha7 @preppyfellaa @princeofkhaenri-ah @jennie-xqv27777 @flwerangii @hhrtfelt

[moontabi]

MASH COMEBACK WHO ELSE CHEERED

von dutch

summary: semi enemies-to-lovers, but make it high, horny, and full of regret.

warnings: drugs (in the words of nm: dOnT Do IT ZoNt ZoO It)

a/n: sooooo it's been a while. but good news! i'm graduating - yay! so let's continue this brat summerrrr. thank you to @gdinthehouseee for organising this event! and to everyone taking part, readers, writers and more - i love you all

"You lied to me."

Dressed in tight leather and heels that already numbed your feet, suddenly all the effort you’d poured into your appearance felt like a waste.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Chae-rin slid closer to you in the booth, placing a warm hand on your thigh as she pushed a shot of tequila into your hand. “But I knew you wouldn’t come otherwise.”

You knocked it back, knowing you'd need something to dull your nerves if you were going to survive the night.

The club was packed wall to wall with A-listers from every corner of the performance world. All of them gathered here for one reason.

To celebrate the birthday boy himself: G-Dragon.

“Ugh, I hate him,” you muttered, setting the glass down and wiping your lips.

CL just laughed.

You and Chae-rin had known each other since you were kids. Grew up causing chaos together. When you’d finally moved to Seoul permanently two years ago, she’d been the one to usher you in to her world.

She introduced you to the spotlight.

And that's when you fell into his sights.

Things with Jiyong had been... heated.

That first night you met, there were drinks. Laughter led to kisses shared at the bar - until you could taste the lime on his tongue. He’d asked for your number with a smirk that made your skin tingle.

But two hours later, you saw him kiss another girl. Right there on the dance floor like it meant nothing.

You had stormed over, cheeks hot, pride sharper than your eyeliner, and demanded for him to delete your number - loud enough for people to turn their heads.

He hadn't been so compliant.

Ever since, things had remained tense.

Sharp glares and petty jabs - you threw them like darts. And every single time, he just laughed them off.

Like he wasn’t the one who ruined it.

As if he liked that you hated him.

Charming asshole.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

A ripple of energy spread through the club.

You didn’t need to turn around to know he’d arrived.

Jiyong.

A swarm of people immediately closed in around him - idol friends, models, socialites - pulling him in for photos, pouring drinks, screaming his name. Camera flashes popped like fireworks.

But of course, none of that distracted him for long.

Because soon enough, there he was. Pushing past the velvet rope into the private booth, all swagger and shine - black Chanel sunglasses still on despite it being well past midnight, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and a grin that made your jaw clench on instinct.

He leaned down, arms wrapping around CL. “Chae-rin-ah,” he drawled, voice low and warm in that way that made people melt.

Then he turned to you.

“I’d hug you too,” he said with a smirk, “but I think I’d end up with a knife in my back.”

You glared at him. “You know me so well.”

He laughed like it was the best compliment he’d ever received, shrugging as he sank into the seat beside you and - without asking - swiped your drink, taking a casual sip.

“Hey, I’m just happy you’re here.” He then turned to CL. “Thanks for bringing my present with you - I love seeing my number one fan."

He winked right at you.

Chae-rin leaned forward to lightly swat his arm. “Oppa, you said you’d behave if I brought her.”

“I am behaving!” he grinned. “I’m always nice to her. She’s the one that hates me.”

You rolled your eyes. “And yet you won’t leave me alone.”

“Never.” He beamed. “You love me really. Let me live my fantasy.”

You scoffed, snatching the drink back. “Go steal some other girl’s drink.”

Before he could come up with a retort, the rest of the Big Bang boys appeared - TOP, Taeyang, the usual suspects - arms full of champagne bottles and sparklers. Jiyong’s eyes lit up.

“Don’t need to,” he said with a devilish grin, leaping to his feet to grab a bottle.

You should have predicted it the second his fingers twisted the cork.

He turned, shook it hard, and sprayed it directly into the booth.

Shrieks of laughter erupted. CL ducked, Daesung closed his eyes in acceptance. Champagne rained down like liquid gold.

You didn’t shriek. You didn’t laugh.

You turned away, shielding your face with your hand - but it was too late. You were soaked through, the cold sting of it dripping down your neck.

You stood up, jaw tight and chest hot.

You were convinced he aimed most of it right for you.

You pushed into the bathroom, soaked and fuming.

Bom was already standing at the sink, touching up her lipstick in the mirror. She glanced at your reflection and raised a perfectly sculpted brow.

“You get into a fight?” she asked, half-smiling. “Do I need to knock a bitch out?”

“Yes,” you snapped. “He’s wearing Chanel sunglasses and throwing drinks on people.”

Bom laughed, shaking her head. “Say no more. I’ll slap him later.”

You grabbed a wad of paper towels and dabbed at your chest and shoulders, trying to salvage your appearance. Your makeup was still intact, miraculously. But you were pissed.

Bom paused, capping her lipstick.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

You hesitated.

You’d thought about it. You didn’t want to - your friends were here, and you rarely got to see CL since she started touring. But the idea of spending another hour dodging Jiyong’s smugness was enough to make you want to crawl out of your skin.

“I swear to god,” you muttered. “He’s just so obsessed with himself. I can’t stand it.”

Bom’s mouth curved into a smirk.

“He’s not obsessed with himself. He’s obsessed with you.”

You glanced at her.

She leaned in slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“And it’s only gonna get worse tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

She gave you a once-over, like she was debating something.

Then she reached into her clutch and pulled out a little bag, discreet and dainty.

“We brought some fun with us tonight....” Her smile widened. “You wanna do molly?”

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

An hour later, the club had morphed into something euphoric.

The lights painted everything in candy colours and the music hummed in your ears. The world was softer, sweeter, and infinitely more alive.

You were perched across CL’s lap in the booth, your arms slung lazily around her shoulders as the two of you giggled like teenagers, declaring your undying love in half-whispers.

“I missed you so much,” you sighed, nuzzling her hair. “I love you, like for real, you’re my soulmate, no one else gets me.”

“I’d literally fight the world for you,” she mumbled against your cheek, her eyeliner slightly smudged, glitter stuck to her cheekbone.

Bom had reappeared somewhere along the way and was now dancing with Minzy just beyond the velvet rope, a glass of something neon in her hand.

Daesung had curled into the corner beside you, gently twisting a lock of your hair between his fingers. “What do you use?” he asked, as if it were the most important question in the world. “Your hair’s so soft.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Champagne.”

Everyone burst out laughing. Even you. Especially you.

The earlier drama - Jiyong’s champagne stunt - had melted away in the warmth of the moment. Whatever irritation had clung to your chest was now floating somewhere on the ceiling with the balloons.

You were buzzing. You were glowing.

So when the music dipped and someone grabbed the mic, your attention shifted towards the sound like a moth to a flame.

“Alright, alright, alright,” the DJ’s voice boomed. “Make some noise for the birthday boy!”

Cheers erupted.

You watched Jiyong being pulled up into the booth - arms thrown around the DJ, head tilted back with laughter, sunglasses still somehow on. His grin was all teeth and gold and glory.

“It’s fucking G-DRAGON in the building!”

The crowd roared. People climbed onto couches, phones flashed, bottles popped.

He leaned into the mic, voice low and rough. “Say my name.”

“G-DRAGON!” they all screamed.

He grinned wider, head turning slowly, eyes falling to the private booth.

His sunglasses obscured his expression, but you could feel it - his attention like a spotlight. The one that had been on you since you met.

“Say it again, girl,” he said into the mic, gaze locked.

And without a care, you shouted it with the crowd.

“G-DRAGON!”

He threw his head back and shouted, confetti cannons erupting on cue, showering the crowd in silver and gold. The music kicked back in - louder, faster - and the room exploded into motion again.

A second later, he jumped down from the booth, weaving through bodies until he reached you.

You didn’t move. Neither did CL.

He leaned down to curl his arms around the both of you, pulling you in with a lazy grin.

And this time - you didn’t push him away.

“Ohh?” he teased, drawing back to witness your happy expression. “You’re not fighting me tonight. Should I be worried? Or honoured?”

You giggled, the drugs keeping your usual defences softened. He took that as encouragement and tightened his hold, practically lifting you off CL’s lap.

You screeched as you were pulled into his embrace, feet off the ground. “Jiyong!”

He laughed, spinning you once before setting you down again, hands lingering on your waist.

“You were chanting my name,” he murmured in your ear.

“So was everyone else,” you shrugged back.

He cocked his head, mouth inches from yours. “But I only heard you.”

CL rolled her eyes. “You two need to get over yourselves.”

Then, in one swift motion, she stood and shoved your heads together.

Your lips collided.

It was messy and heated, and long overdue. His hand shifted to the back of your head, holding you in place as he pushed against you harder and you nearly collapsed beneath both the pressure and pleasure.

When you finally pulled away, dazed, flushed, heart racing -

You grabbed his face and screamed, “I wanna fuck G-fucking-DRAGON!”

He leaned closer and mumbled against your lips, “Fuck, I’m so in love with you.”

You grinned wickedly, head tilting back as his lips traced your jaw. “I'm your number one.”

"You're my number one." He nodded, his laughter ringing in your ears, boyish and bright - and then kissed you again, hard.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

CL was now doubled over, breathless with laughter after someone had just taken a body shot from her cleavage.

Bom and a model had Daesung bent over the booth, demanding an ass shot from him. He was giggling, breathless, face pressed into the seat as they tugged and pulled at the back of his belt blindly.

TOP sat beside the chaos, arms crossed, laughing behind the rim of his glass. “Be careful with him," he teased, not budging when someone tried to pull at his shirt.

The whole thing was a fuzzy vision of bodies and heat and euphoria.

You were laughing into Jiyong’s shoulder when he turned, his voice pitched just for you. “C’mon. I’m not waiting any longer for my turn.”

You stared up at him, breath catching. “Your turn?”

He pointed to the table, eyes gleaming.

You couldn’t stop the grin from stretching across your face as you climbed atop the cold glass table, a shiver running up your spine.

“God, you’re ridiculous,” you said, giggling.

“I’m devoted,” he corrected, already lifting the hem of your shirt. “Don't move.”

You gasped as the chilled tequila pooled in your belly button, the liquid cold and sharp. You tried not to squirm, muscles twitching, but he was keen not to waste a drop.

He bent down immediately, mouth hot on your skin as he licked, slurped, kissed. It was wet and messy and dizzying, and he didn’t stop there - his lips trailed lower, kissing just beneath your navel, teeth now grazing your belt -

“Seriously? I was gone for ten minutes.”

Taeyang had reappeared, blinking at the scene before him like he’d walked into a porn shoot.

“Okay, nope.” He clapped his hands together. ���Come on. I’m putting an end to this. We’re not having a scandal tonight. I will not be canceled because of your sex lives.”

The girls groaned in protest as Daesung fixed his clothes, flopping onto the booth like a disheveled god.

Jiyong pushed up from over your body, licking his lips as he grinned down at you. His hands caught your thighs and dragged you toward the edge of the table.

He helped you up, steadying you when your knees wobbled, a quiet chuckle in his throat.

You stared at him, breathless.

Then you grabbed his silver chain, tugging it, drawing his face towards yours.

“Not fair,” you mumbled with a pout.

He raised a brow, amused. “Are you jealous?”

Your grip tightened.

“Yeah,” you said plainly. “I still want my turn.”

He grinned.

“I’ve got a full bottle at mine.”

You smiled, slow and dangerous.

“Then it’s settled.” You slipped your hand into his. “Party at yours.”

He kissed the back of your hand, turning and already tugging you along.

Behind you, CL shouted, “I call maid of honour at the wedding!”

You both just laughed, disappearing into the glitter-drenched night - your pulse already quickening at the promise of what came next.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You woke up with a groan, your tongue dry and stuck to the roof of your mouth. Your limbs were sore, your top missing but underwear still intact and your thigh tangled in a sheet that smelled like expensive cologne.

Sunlight streamed through sheer curtains, far too bright for your current state.

And then you noticed him.

Lying beside you, shirtless, tousled, and far too comfortable.

Jiyong.

He was propped on one elbow, watching you with a gentle smile.

Your heart kicked into a sprint.

“Holy shit,” you flinched at his proximity, practically launching yourself back against the headboard.

He didn’t move at your startled reaction. Just smiled, sleepy and smug. “Morning.”

“Oh my god. Did we...oh my god.”

He exhaled slowly. “No. I think we tried to, though.”

You both took a moment to scan the room. Clothes were strewn across the floor like a crime scene. Your heels were by the TV. His shirt was hanging from the lamp.

You glanced at his neck. A constellation of hickies bloomed across his skin.

You reached for your own neck with a grimace. It was already tender. Your fingers brushed over what was likely matching marks.

Great.

He stretched lazily, voice low and rough. “You want breakfast?”

You gave him a scowl. “No. I don’t want breakfast.”

He looked away for a beat, then turned back, mischief tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You wanna hate-fuck?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’d rather just hate you.”

He sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Happy birthday to me.”

You slumped back against the headboard, reaching for your phone. Dead. Of course. You dropped it on the mattress with a groan and rubbed your temples.

Then, like he forgot you were still in the room, he started talking.

“You know…” His voice was quieter now, pensive. “I thought I’d have more accomplished by now. At thirty.”

You glanced sideways. “What do you mean? Look around - designer pillows, cats with diamond collars… Isn’t this the dream?”

He smiled faintly but didn’t laugh. Instead, his finger traced the pillow beside him. “I mean important stuff. Like… marriage. A family. I want those things. More than all this.”

You said nothing for a second.

“…It’ll happen for you,” you offered quietly. “One day.”

He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, but I fuck it up every time. Even with you. I really liked you, and I still fucked it up. The first night.”

You sighed, reluctantly pulled into the gravity of his honesty. “Well… I guess I’ve been holding onto that night for too long now.”

He turned to look at you, eyes softening.

“I’ll admit it,” you muttered. “You’re… better now.”

He grinned, seizing your words like you'd tossed him a lifeline. “I am. I was in a different headspace then.”

You smiled a little, letting yourself relax into the bed, into the moment. “Yeah, I guess you’ve been pretty loyal to chasing me since. Some would say obsessed.”

He chuckled. “Definitely obsessed.”

The tension between you had shifted. It wasn’t sharp anymore. It was something slow and intimate.

You glanced at him. “Jiyong… I think I would like to stay. For breakfast.”

His expression lit up, wide and warm. “Yeah?”

You smirked. “And maybe we can fuck after. If the food’s good enough to impress me.”

“Well, I can’t cook so…” he began, already moving.

Before you could think, he grabbed your leg and dragged you down the mattress with a smooth tug, making you shriek and laugh.

“Let me impress you here instead,” he murmured, rolling on top of you, body heavy and warm and now familiar.

“God, I hate you sometimes,” you breathed, but your hands were already in his hair.

“Yeah,” he whispered against your mouth, “keep talking like that. I'll change your mind."

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

sorry if i didn't capture the entire vibe of the song, life is busting my ass rn 😮‍💨 but i wanted to take part so pls enjoy <3

love always,

mash xxx

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife , @sylviavf , @ldydeath , @wonyluvi , @deliciousmagazinequeen , @heartubeatusalon , @imminsugasgf , @steponupbabe, @moontabi , @1950schick , @wcnderlnds

challenge taglist: @szonyix6277 , @aizshallnotbefound , @keiraryan , @sternilei

[moontabi]

HIDE AND SEEK

› cw:: not proof read. nsfw, fem!reader, being hunted down/fear, public s*x, oral (m!receiving), vaginal s*x, blood + death, anxiety, threesome, choking, pet names, no protection, overstimulation, drug use (they’re high), size k!nk, squirting.

› a/n:: my first post!! this basically takes place during the hide and seek game in season 3 of squid game, if thanos were to survive season two. enjoy :3

your heart practically thumped from your chest as you stared down at the key placed articulately in two fingers, as your hand shook terrible from the anxiety rising in your chest and belly. your throat was dry as you swallowed hard, a lump forming in it as you heard a nose follow behind you.

instinctively, you flipped your whole body around to look, gasping and bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to fall from your lids… but it was another blue member. who grabbed their chest in delight that it was another blue team.

“oh, goodness!” the black haired woman spoke, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “you scared me half to death! here, we should—“ a loud crunching noise sounded from her back as her face grew a blank expression, then tears rolling from her hollow eyes.

her body lumped onto yours as you then threw it to the side in disgust and shock, your eyes then staring up to meet with a face. a smirk, pulling at his lips (which is what you happened to stare at first), then- a sadistic stare in his eyes.

an excited scream left someone’s lips before you realized it was number 230.. thanos, was his name. you couldn’t ever forget that name. but the scream? that was nam-gyu, the man right behind the purple haired one.

he grabbed thanos’s shoulders with a laugh, clearly not seeing you until he noticed 230’s fixated stare. “oh, shit. it’s her.” he bit his lip as he looked at you, almost… intrigued.

frozen in your steps, your legs trembled as your stomach dropped. then, a hand to your throat that you were unable to dodge, from thanos.

a breath choked in your throat as his fingers clutched your jugular, not tight enough to cut off your airways, but more of a warning. nam-gyu couldn’t get enough of it, taking his knife and joining in by grabbing the hem of your sweatshirt and shirt, revealing your stomach.

you jolted, feeling the blade of a knife drag across your stomach threateningly. “pretty skin, dollface. what if i..?” nam-gyu slightly dug the tip of it in your skin, making you yelp. “shh- sh sh-! the red team will hear you,” thanos warned, having too much fun with his best friend.

they both let you go. falling to your knees, you grabbed your throat and began to gag and cough harshly. there was a door to your left that thanos looked at, crouching down to grab the key from your neck and ripped it off before using it on the door.

nam-gyu grabbed you by the back of your shirt and threw you in, before thanos shut the door behind the three of them. you landed on your stomach and face, hard. you sat up so fast to your knees, spinning around to face them. “pl- please! no, i- i don’t wanna die! i-“ you choked and cried, begging with your hands clutched together, “i’ll do anything! anything-!”

that’s when it went quiet, and the two looked at each other proudly. before nam-gyu crouched down behind you, soon kneeling as he guided you to sit on your butt. “wh-“ you began to speak, but nam-gyu covered your mouth with his large hand, and that’s when you couldn’t help but began to feel something knot between your legs.

thanks crouched down to you, his hands guiding from your waist up to your chest. “anything?” thanos questioned, making nam-gyu giggle softly. “she looks just like a baby fawn, ready to be eaten alive by two wolves.” the black haired male whispered gently in your ear, making you squirm and grunt under his grasp.

nam-gyu wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. “and your smell… it’s..” he huffed your hair into his nose, closing his eyes before huffing out. “that fear, it’s so damn sexy.”

god, you felt pathetic when you began to find yourself aroused by these two men playing around with your fear. why were they suddenly doing this? you were nothing but a cowardly dork, who was currently terrified of what would come next, but also… so enticed.

thanos reached his hands forward, both runninf through your locks of hair, twirling them around his tattooed fingers. nam-gyu on the other hand let his fingers (that were wrapped around you) begin to travel, lower.. lower…… until they were at the hem of your track suit pants. you breathed heavy under the palm of his hand, gasping and squirming as his grip on you was so strong.

the purple haired male then grabbed your wrists and held them down to the ground, sitting on your outstretched legs as nam-gyu pulled your pants slightly down to reveal your underwear. “pff.. cute, she wears that?” thanos judged the pair you wore, and nam-gyu couldn’t help but laugh as he toyed with them hem of your panties.

his callused fingers then slipped in, sliding down your stubbly skin and in-between your labia, rubbing circles around your clit. your head immediately flew back onto his shoulder. “fuck.. thanos! she’s soaked!” he teased, circling his middle finger around your hole. “i think she might be ready for us soon… soon.” he teased as thanos smirked as he watched in entertainment.

his finger then slipped in, gently and carefully. he knew exactly what he was doing, and began to curl his finger inside you as he pumped in and out, deep enough to reach his third knuckle. “oh, baby.. you probably sound so good.” he mocked, considering his hand was cupping your mouth so hard, they could hear nothing.

you were drooling on his palm as he entered a second finger, watching as thanos began to slip both your pants and underwear off to your ankles, not completely taking it off.

he then palmed the center of his pants before pulling them and his boxers down. your eyes widened when you saw his cock bounce up from his clothes, and his was hard.. and huge. his was thick and his tip was already leaking just seeing you like this. “damn, look how riled up you got me, y/n.” he mentioned, somehow knowing your name. “nam-gyu, take your shit off.”

nam-gyu smiled as he dropped you and took his fingers out, you gasped so loud and fell onto the floor behind you, watching as nam-gyu began to undress himself and switch places with thanos. you were weak, helpless.

nam-gyu lifted your legs up to bend at your belly, revealing your bottom and your soaking pussy. “fuuck.. i need to fuck you.. now.” nam-gyu mentioned, scooting closer as he lined himself up with you, and when you looked down? holy shit. nam-gyu’s cock with just as big, if not bigger. he was holding it with his hand as he lined himself up with your hole, that wouldn’t fit! there’s no way!

“w-wait-!” you started, before he slammed his dick inside of you. you went to scream, before thanos shoved his dick in your open mouth—turning your head to the side to face him first. you choked on the length and gasped as the girth inside of you.

“holy fuck.” thanos and nam-gyu echoed from each other, your mouth was hot and wet on thanos’s dick, while your vagina engulfed nam-gyu.

the raven haired male began to thrust, and it wasn’t slow. he was fast and ragged, slapping skin could be heard and you mouth so loud against thanos, who also began to thrust down your throat.

you tasted skin, and felt so much inside of your stomach, feeling nam-gyu hit every curve inside of your walls. you murmured loud moans against thanos’s shaft and tip, feeling him against the back of your throat as your body had been overstimulated with waves of pleasure and enjoyment.

“she’s so fucking tight, thanos.” nam-gyu grabbed your thighs tightly as he pounded into you, his hand sliding down and groping an amount of your ass into his hand. his movements were precise, and well timed, his tip hitting your g-spot over and over. you’ve never felt this way, never felt so overwhelmed with two men fucking your lights out like this. you’ve only had sex with one other man, a sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend.

thanos grabbed your jaw as he stroked himself with your mouth, but you stopped him by placing a hand on his stomach, using your head to make rhythmic movements across his cock- bobbing your head and swirling your tongue around him. “oh, yeah. that’s the fucking stuff.” thanos grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged to look at you.

you were a mess to say the least.

you had tears running down your face, slobber around your lips, hands and legs shaking. but the boys seemed to adore it, love it, and even want more of it.

“you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. such a damn whore too. didn’t even fight this shit.” nam-gyu said, trying to hide his moans of pleasure as he handled your pussy with intense care from his cock.. but his movements began to grow sloppy.

you popped your lips off of thanos’s cock and looked up at nam-gyu, “mo-more! please, pleaseplease-!” your begging made nam-gyu focus again, and suddenly he was pushing your knees to your chest and fucking you insanely hard and fast. you began to growl out moans as thanos cupped your mouth, “that’s why we have to shut you up, princess.” thanos reminded, pulling his dick back near your mouth.

“wa-wait! i’m gon-gonna!” you felt a huge knot arise, your pussy throbbing with pure pleasure as nam-gyu smiled proudly hearing your pleas. thanos forced his way back into your mouth as soon as nam-gyu pulled out and watched you squirt, to which he soon bent down and licked up the remains that were dripping.

you moaned so loudly and sloppily against thanos’s cock, which was pounding in you. “i’m not done yet,” your eyes then turned to nam-gyu, who slipped back inside of you, making you scream with an overwhelming amount of pleasure, almost too much.

but it was quicker than you thought, as he pounded fast and sloppy inside of you while you sucked off thanos just as messily, your spit dribbling off of his cock and on the floor.

soon enough, you felt a spurt of juices pouring into your gut, as well as down your throat.. before both men exited you. you gasped heavily as cum slipped from your hole and your mouth, sliding down your throat as you soon spat it on the ground. “bitch,” thanos teased as you watched him slip his dick back inside of his pants, while nam-gyu carefully slid your clothes back on too.

nobody is gonna believe this, are they?

[moontabi]

manhandle me

LAWWDDDD

[moontabi]

i really need to get back on top of my requests…just know i see every single one and i will get to them eventually!! <3 thank you guys for being patient with me

[moontabi]

girls need love

pairing: thangyu x midsized fem!reader

summary: the one where reader has a breakdown before date night with namgyu and thanos.

warnings: body image issues, mental breakdown, domestic!thangyu, fluff, namgyu and thanos being total sweeties (shocker!)

a/n: i coincidentally put a bigbang reference in here let’s see if you can find it! also there may be a part two to this since i need to do a bit more research on threesome dynamics!

As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, you were only met with disappointment at the sight of your body.

This wasn’t how you intended to feel today of all days. You had just finished getting ready for your dinner date with your boyfriends Thanos and Namgyu. Fast forward to now—you were now wearing a black bodycon dress paired with some black heels. You were disgusted with the way the clothes clung to your body. You picked at every curve and roll that was very evident through the material of the clothes. You hated it.

You always had a love-hate relationship with your body, which stemmed from your childhood. Being the heaviest girl in all of your friend group only made your insecurities fester into what it was now—hatred. You couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach as you stared back at your reflection. You were too caught up in your appearance to hear the sound of your bedroom door opening behind you or the faint footsteps that followed. You were in your own world until a familiar voice spoke.

"Baby are you ready yet? Gyu's just finishing-" Thanos says, but before he could complete his sentence, you turned around. His jaw dropped as soon as he laid his eyes on you, now raking his eyes up and down your body. "Wow...you look fantastic, baby," he says with adoration.

"You think so?" you ask, your cheeks now at flushed after hearing his compliment.

"Of course I do. Why would you ask me something like that?," Thanos asks you, a puzzled look now taking over his face.

"It's just...I don't feel pretty. This dress doesn't hug me in the right ways." you confess to him with your head hung low. You felt ashamed.

“Are you kidding me? You look fucking amazing right now," he praises.

You should feel happy to hear him talk so highly about you in this moment, but it just made you feel worse. You didn't get what he saw in you. I mean how could he see past all the rolls you had or all the cellulite on your skin? Not only did he seem to, but so did Namgyu on multiple occasions. The thought of it alone was enough to make you start to get teary eyed. Thanos had seen the shift in your facial expression along with the faint tears that decorated your lower eyelids. Shit.

“Hey hey hey…don’t cry sweetie. It’s okay…” he says softly. He inches closer to before wrapping his arms around you. You can’t help but lean into the hug and bury your head into the crook of his shoulder while sobbing.

“I-I’m not good enough for you guys…y-you could do better than me,” you croak loud enough for him to hear.

“Listen to me…you are perfect just the way you are,” he reassures you as his hands run through the tresses of your hair. “You are more than enough. I promise you,” he continues.

“Hey babe, have you seen my watch any-“ was heard from behind the two of you, enough to startle you guys. “What’s going on here?” Namgyu asks out of concern due to Thanos having his arms around you.

“Our girl doesn’t think she’s pretty or good enough for us,” Thanos says to the raven haired man. “Told her none of that’s true.”

That was enough for Namgyu to walk closer to the two of you. “May I?” he asks Thanos, discreetly asking if he could chime in to which Thanos silently nods his head at before pulling away from the hug. “What’s got you feeling this way, huh?” Namgyu asks, the pad of his thumb coming up to your face to wipe away any tears that were still falling down your cheeks. “Was it something we did?” he asks.

You don’t answer right away which only makss Namgyu more anxious to hear your answer. See, contrary to popular belief, Namgyu did have a soft side. Hell, he didn’t know he had one before he met the two of you at Club Pentagon. Namgyu didn’t plan any of it. He thought he didn’t have time for love, but you guys changed his mind in the long run. He didn’t care if it made him seem weak to others. All that mattered to him was your guys’ happiness. And right now, you were clearly in distress.

The silence in the room only continues for a while longer before you finally get enough courage to spit out the words. “It’s this dress…it makes me look big…” you trail.

It takes Namgyu a few seconds to process your words. How could their girl say something like that?…something so unbelievably untrue. It pained him to see you like this. Hell, he knew it was killing Thanos as well even if he wasn’t saying anything at the moment.

“I think I speak for Thanos as well when I say this…you are the most breathtaking girl we’ve ever laid our eyes on. We don’t know how we pulled such an amazing girl like you, doll,” Namgyu coos, his hand now clutching yours as he rubs soft circles across the soft skin of your hand. “Isn’t that right, Thanos?” he asks.

“Absolutely fucking right,” Thanos says in return. Without hesitation, he inches closer to you and Namgyu. “You’re like a work of art in every single way. No matter how you see yourself, you will always remain perfect in our eyes. We’re always gonna be here to reassure you of that when that pretty little head of yours thinks otherwise, got it baby?” Thanos asks rhetorically.

“I’m sorry about all this…I’ve ruined our date night already and it hasn’t even started,” you say shakily.

“You haven’t ruined anything. We’re just so glad you told us about this. Me and ‘Gyu always wanna make sure you’re okay,” he affirms.

“I love you guys so much…I really do. Quite frankly, I don’t know what I would do without you guys,” you say, your voice and emotions betraying you in the process as you feel the tears start to fall again.

“Hey hey…don’t cry for us….c’mere, we’ve got you,” he says with a smile.

The three of you come together for a group hug, one that’s as comforting as a soft blanket. Namgyu and Thanos take turns caressing your head with their soft hands, enough for you to lean deeper into their warm embrace. At some point, the two men start to switch off kissing you on the lips as if you were the most fragile porcelain to ever exist, the rest of the world fading in the process.

The moment lasts for a while longer before you finally pull away with a newfound smile on your face. The expression is enough for them to look at each other with a sense of relief and happiness that came from being able to help you. That was all they wanted. You were their safe haven and they wanted to make sure they could provide you with the same sense of security you had given them so many times.

“Are you okay now?” Namgyu questions you.

“I think I am…all thanks to you guys,” you say with a weak chuckle.

“We’re just doing our job, baby,” Namgyu says in response.

“Damn right we are,” Thanos says cockily, earning a laugh from you, which only makes his heart beat faster for you. “Now c’mon, we’ve got a dinner date to get to,” he chides playfully.

And with that, the three of you slowly make your way downstairs with all of your hands intertwined with one another’s as you did so. You felt nothing but comfort with them by your side and that was enough for you to let all of your troubles float away, even if it was for the time being. You knew that as long as you had them, you would be okay. Hell, more than okay. They were everything you ever wanted out of life despite all of the hardships that came with it. What you guys shared was something that nobody else would ever be able to experience. They were your rocks, your best friend, and your home— all in one.

Safe to say, you weren’t going anywhere and neither were they.

[moontabi]

Track 03: Sympathy is a knife

Brat summer writing event!

Summary: you’re Jiyongs ex and you find out he’s got a new girlfriend and you can’t help but always compare yourself to her.

Warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, Self hatred, breakup, heartbreak, insecurities, cheating (Ji on his new partner).

A/n: my part of the brat summer writing event! Thank yall so much for having me. I will warn you this will not be as good as any of the others on here because it was rushed and smut is my strong point NOT angst (sorryyy🙏💔). Anyways please go and support these writers, they’re extraordinary.

A/n edit: this was not meant to be a smut fic and I’m completely aware it goes of plot. Just go with it.

You didn’t expect him to move on so fast, especially when your heart still so desperately ached for him. You often laid in bed, bundled in the same sheets you and him shared so many memories in. You hadn’t changed them since he moved out, you knew it was probably seen as disgusting but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The faint lingering scent of his cologne on the expensive sheets was the only thing getting you to sleep at night.

You stared up at the ceiling wondering where it all went wrong, wondering if his mind was filled with thoughts of you like yours was of him. You had hopes that maybe he would come crawling back to you. even if he for some reason looked happier than ever without you.

That hope lasted, until it didn’t. Of course dispatch being their usual selves can’t give idols a single ounce of privacy. So that’s how you found out Jiyong had found a new girl. She was a pretty model, way prettier than you were in your eyes. She was perfect. Slim figure, killer style, prettiest features. You couldn’t help but almost feel happy for him. I mean he was doing so much better probably because he’d found someone a hell of a lot better than you.

You decided to make it worse for yourself and scroll through the pictures dispatch had uploaded. They were caught kissing, holding hands, going on cozy dates. Just like he used to do with you, you didn’t even realise you were crying until a tear had slid of off your face and onto your phone. You quickly wiped it and threw your phone onto the other side of your bed and tried to fall asleep.

From then you completely spiralled. Your friends noticed and tried to tell you that you were enough and Jiyong didn’t know what he lost. But that voice in your head told you that he knew exactly what he lost and he’s probably happy about it. Probably laughing with his new girl at old photos of you and picking apart every.single.flaw. You don’t say anything about it though, you just smile and nod blinking back tears. You need the fucking sympathy.

The voices in your head were there constantly. Every time you woke up the first thing you’d think about is them. How he was probably waking up tangled together with a girl who is everything you could never be. Everytime you looked in the mirror you saw every single flaw stand out like it was highlighted in bright yellow, constantly comparing yourself to her. The wild voices in your head were slowly but surely tearing you apart.

Everyone was worried about you but you didn’t give a fuck. In your head this was normal, you deserved to feel like this. Every single drop of sympathy you received, you told yourself was a lie, it felt like a fucking knife being stabbed into your heart over and over again. You couldn’t even be her if you tried and it fucking hurt, you were at constant war with your head and it felt never ending. It was so so exhausting.

Your friends had tried to be nice and bought you tickets to Jiyongs first show in Seoul. You weren’t going to go but you were practically dragged. You walked into the venue, hat low, sunglasses covering your eyes so no photographers saw you. You knew what they were like. If they saw you at Jiyongs show they’d assume you were back together or something and you didn’t want to ruin his new relationship Infact you didn’t even want him to see you tonight. You were too insecure now, you felt disgusting compared to his new girl.

You had actually forgotten about everything going on in your head for awhile. The atmosphere was brilliant, energetic crowd, beautiful vocals of course from Jiyong and pretty lights. It was all good until you decided to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and you saw her. The girl who had unknowingly made your life hell. The girl who had completely ruined your confidence even though she didnt even know you. The girl who had been taking over your brain so much, that if anyone could see inside your head they’d probably think you were in love with her.

She walked straight past you, and you were glad. You wouldnt even know what to do with yourself if she had spoken to you. Break down crying? Act nice? You had no clue. Your eyes lingered on her as she walked off, beautiful smile plastered on her Perfect face. God it was like she was made of angel dust. You watched as she headed off to go backstage.

Your stomach turned. That was you once upon a time, happily chatting with security as they led you to see your sweaty, tired but none the less perfect boyfriend after he’d finished performing. And now you were so easily replaced, it almost felt like someone was ripping out your insides just at the thought of it.

You pulled out a pack of cigarettes and leaned against the cold hard wall, lighting the blunt and taking a long drag. As you exhaled you heard footsteps, you thought it was security coming because you were smoking and that wasn’t allowed in the venue. But when you looked up and saw Jiyong, you were shocked.

“You know you shouldn’t be doing that but I’m not going to stop you” he said, voice kind of rough after performing but still held that softness that it always had.

You didn’t even know what to say. It had been ages since you and him last spoke and you expected him to be backstage with his girl.

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your girlfriend? I just saw her go backstage.” Your voice was shaky half because of the cold and half because you were so nervous it was almost humiliating.

“You were always observant.” He said leaning back against the wall next to you. “But no, that’s actually the reason I’m out here because she’s complaining I don’t spend enough time with her.”

He didn’t sound bothered about it at all which concerned you because he would always make enough time for you back when you two were dating.

“So instead of fixing that, you’re out here with your ex? Very convenient.” You scoffed but you weren’t mad, how could you be?

He watched as you took another drag, almost mesmerised.

“Yeah no I actually came out here to find you, I heard you were coming.” He gently took your jaw making you look up at him.

Your breath hitched as his hand made contact with your skin, it felt so right yet so wrong. You leaned closer testing the waters and he smirked cockily.

“So eager hm?” He murmured before connecting his lips with yours. You shivered as he did so, all of the feelings rushing back to you. A wave of nostalgia hit you, he still tasted the same after all of this time. Like mint and cigarettes.

You jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Are you okay with this, Jagi?” His voice was raspy as he said it making you blush. You nodded as you reconnected your lips with his.

He slips a hand under your shirt, his cold ring-decorated fingers making you shiver. You felt him growing hard between your things and every worry about the situation in your head disappears.

When you lifted your arms up he took it as a signal to pull off the shirt you were wearing. His eyes gaze over you like he’d been waiting for this moment, it was making you shudder.

His fingers slide around to the clasp of your bra and he slides it off, your breasts bouncing as he does so. He licks his lips before flicking it over your already hardened nipple. He kisses all of the way up your chest and neck before stopping at your parted mouth.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He whispers, breath hot on your lips. “But I just can’t help myself around you.”

This was the most content you’ve felt since the breakup. It was pathetic really but you had missed this. His lips met yours again, his tongue carefully exploring your mouth while your hips started grinding against him.

“Fuck Jagi I’m not going to last if you keep doing that to me.” His voice was strained and it was so fucking hot.

Your hand reached between you both to hold him through his pants that he had worn on stage. He let out a throaty moan as you rubbed him up and down.

He sets you down and works his way down your body, kissing and licking every part until his mouth stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He slid them off and smirked when he saw the wetness on your panties.

“We won’t be needing these.” He chuckled. He then slid off the Lace material, fingers tickling.

As soon as his mouth is on you, your back arching and you grinded onto his face. You let out desperate needy cries as he took his time sucking your aching, throbbing clit into his mouth. The pleasure jolts through your body and he lets out a little grumble that you felt vibrate on your pussy as his tongue worked its way up your folds making you cry his name out.

You thought he would have relented by now due to how much you were squirming and moaning, but it was not. He secured his arms around your legs, pinning you in position, holding onto you tighter when the overstimulation causes you to start squirming. Watching him bury his face in your pussy, devouring you and moaning happily after so long was too much.

“One more baby.” He murmured into your pink flesh.

And uninevitabley your body does exactly what he asks.

“That’s a good girl.” He cooed before climbing back up your body and brushed out sweat-dampened hair from your forehead. Your sweaty palms struggled to un do his pants but when you finally did you pushed his boxers down watching his hardened cock spring free, you moved your hand up and down and watched him as he groaned in pleasure and his eyes rolling back into his head.

You tasted yourself as you pulled him back in for a slow gentle kiss while also feeling him thrusting it into your hand.

“I dont have a condom with me, it’s not something I’d usually bring to me to a performance.” He said with a chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind or we don’t have to do it if you don’t feel comfy without.”

You shook your head softly, “no I don’t mind Ji.” The nickname still slipping out after all this time.

He lines himself up with your entrance and gently slid himself in. You had had one or two hookups since you and Jiyong broke up but nothing too serious and this was ten times more intense. You feel every bit of him inside of you.

He panted into your shoulder as he adjusted to being inside of you after all of this time.

“Fuck y/n you feel so good, all wet and ready for me.” His voice was deep and needy.

He starts thrusting himself into me hard, your skin was ready to burst into flames and every hair on your body was stood up and you wanted more.

“Mm please Ji harder and faster.” You wrapped your legs around him and crossed your feet at the bottom of his back.

“mm shit y/n I won’t fucking last, you feel so good.” His voice was more desperate than ever.

You started to use your feet to lift your hips and slide up and down him and rolled your hips when you got to the tip.

You wanted him to fuck you right into the wall until you both lost your minds but Ofcourse he always wanted to be careful with you.

“I don’t care Jiyong.” You said with honesty. “I’m begging you to give me all you’ve got.”

You see a smirk flash across his lips as he put his arms under you and gripped your shoulders. You were trying to hide your excited expression but he Ofcourse noticed it and his smirk grew wider.

“Right, hold onto me and remember you asked for it.” He said smirk wider than ever.

His hands that were gripped onto your shoulders tugged you down as he rammed himself in and out of your pussy. Each thrust had you crying in pleasure into his mouths and your nails leaving marks on his broad shoulders. Your legs were vibrating and every time he goes deeper your legs tightened around him.

“Jiyong.” You cried.

“I know baby, I know.” He said, resting his forehead on yours and his lips smash onto yours in desperation.

“You’re such a good girl taking it all.”

“Im close Ji” you cried out, grabbing the back of his neck with your sweaty hands.

“Come for me baby let me feel you.”

“Jiyong, mm fuck.”

Your whole body melts as you cum all over his cock. His body collapsed onto yours, both of your body heats mingling together as you felt him throbbing inside of you.

After you two had gotten dressed Jiyongs phone buzzed. He read the message his eyes lighting up slightly before looking at you.

“My girlfriend, or should I say now ex, has left so I can take you backstage and clean you up properly if you want.” He didn’t want to be un gentleman like and just let you go home.

You were quite surprised at this, mostly expecting him to just forget about it ever happening. “Yeah alright if that’s okay with you.” A small smile already forming on your face.

“It would be a dick move if I didn’t do aftercare, it’s the bare minimum baby.” He gently grabbed your hand, his fingers warm and comforting against yours.

Maybe Jiyong really did love you and didn’t see you for just how pretty you were but also you. And given the past few weeks, that alone made you feel better than ever.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Taglist: @thanosspills @moontabi @steponupbabe @sylviavf @madzzz0797 @nsainmoonchild

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[moontabi]

I love your yandere thanos headcanons would you ever do a yandere seunghyun or no

absolutely!!! i plan on doing some hcs for him sometime in the future :)

[moontabi]

hihi just stopping by to drop off some daisies i picked for you 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

thank you my sweet🥹🥹 heres some for you too 🌼🌼🌼🌼

[moontabi]

sometimes i feel like i try too hard to be liked and it makes people dislike me