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ctrlsht · 4 months ago

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Beneath His Love | Jungkook Two-Shot AU (Part 2)

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: dark romance, psychological thriller, soft yandere

summary: Jeon Jungkook was once just a foreign high school friend until he disappeared without a word after graduation. Years later, he came back, not just to reconnect, but to claim a place in your life as your lover. To everyone else, your relationship is something out of a fairytale, the kind others envy. And for a while, you believed it too until the mask he wore began to slip, revealing a side of him you never saw coming.

warnings: emotional and psychological manipulation, control and possessiveness, obsession, anxiety and mild distress, isolation and coercion, themes of entrapment, smut wc: 20k

parts: (1) | (2)

Your friends haven't noticed yet because they're facing the other way.

“Y/N,” he calls, his voice cutting through the night.

Your friends turn.

“You weren’t answering your phone again.” His tone is eerily neutral. “We have to go home. Now.”

You step forward instinctively, but Mina blocks you.

“No,” she says firmly. “She’s not going with you.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicks to her, his brow arching, lips pressing into a tight line. He stares at her for a long moment before turning back to you.

“Y/N?”

Henry, oblivious to the growing tension, chimes in. “Man, Y/N might stay the night. Chloe booked a room for us since she’s leaving Monday.”

But you wish he hadn’t said that.

Jungkook shifts his gaze to Henry, his jaw tightening. He doesn’t say anything right away, just studies him.

“Henry, right?” Jungkook’s voice is smooth as he twitch is lips. “I haven’t formally met you. I only ever see you when I’m picking Y/N up.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes locked onto him. “How have you been? Last time I heard a news from you is when you were smuggling cocaine into campus during high school.”

Your stomach drops.

Henry’s eyes widen. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Jungkook smirks. “They didn’t know? How is that possible, considering they’re your friends?”

“Jungkook, let’s go.” You reach for him, desperate to diffuse whatever the hell this is.

But Mina steps in again, eyes burning.

“Y/N, you’re staying,” she says. “We already talked about this.”

You ignore Mina and head straight for Jungkook, needing to escape the tension pressing down on you. The longer you stay, the harder it gets to breathe.

Your friends react. Voices overlapping behind you but you don’t look back. Your focus is locked on Jungkook, searching his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

Without hesitation, you reach for his hand, ready to pull him away with you. But before you can, his grip tightens, stopping you in your tracks.

You glance up, and that’s when you see it. He’s smiling.

“It’s okay, love,” he says smoothly, pulling you closer, his eyes flickering toward your friends. “You can stay the night.”

Your stomach twists. “No, we can go now—”

“You can stay,” he repeats, his voice calm, too calm. “It’s Chloe’s last night. I get it now. Go ahead, have fun. I’ll wait for you at home tomorrow.”

“But—”

You hesitate, trying to explain, to tell him there’s no need, that you’ll just leave with him. But before you can get the words out, he cuts you off.

“You will stay.” He said firmly. The smile doesn’t waver, but you know better. You know he doesn’t like this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Before you can say anything else, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Your friends didn’t like what happened. They didn’t like how the situation turned out. But if they thought they were the only ones pissed about it, they were dead wrong. Because out of everyone who hated what just happened, no one despised it more than you.

Shame burned through you. The way you broke down in front of them, the way Jungkook showed up and, without a second thought, you fell right into line. How easily you let him take control. And worst of all, you ruined Chloe’s night.

Pathetic.

You fucking hated every second of it, and the last thing you wanted was to face them now. If the earth could open up and swallow you whole, you’d gladly let it.

But they didn’t let you go.

They didn’t let you walk away, didn’t let you brush this off and deal with it alone. Were they disappointed? Yeah. But they didn’t leave. They stayed.

And as much as you wanted to leave because of Jungkook, because you knew he wouldn’t like this, you realized something else. Maybe it was a good thing he “let” you stay. Because you needed this. More than you even knew.

You’d been so wrapped up in him, so caught in the push and pull of his world, that you forgot what it felt like to just be with your friends. The people who had always been there, long before he ever stepped into the picture.

It hit you then, how much of yourself you’d been losing. How, somewhere along the way, your world had started revolving around him.

But tonight, even just for a little while, you were free.

The party was still on-going, but your friends were done. Without much debate, they decided to head back to the hotel Chloe had booked. You felt bad and offered to stay, but they weren’t having it. They just wanted to get out of there and honestly, so did you.

You already knew what was coming once you got to the hotel. This wasn’t just about tonight. They wanted to know everything. About Jungkook, about the way your life had changed since you started dating him.

And the moment you started talking, it all clicked.

You knew he was controlling. Deep down, you always knew. But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t that bad. That it was just love. Just care. But standing here, hearing your own words spill out, you realized how much of yourself you’d let slip through his fingers.

Every choice, big or small, it had all been him. And you? You just went along with it.

Chloe, sitting cross-legged on the bed, hugs a pillow to her chest. Her voice is gentle, but there’s frustration laced in it.

“We get that you love him,” she says, watching you carefully. “But you know you’re being manipulated. So why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“Because she’s blinded by love, Chloe. That explains everything,” Mina says, taking a swig of the beer they snuck out from the club.

“It’s not just that.” Henry leans forward, grabbing a bottle from the table. “She’s not just ignoring the red flags, she’s doing whatever he wants because she doesn’t want to start a fight. It’s easier to just go along with it than deal with the fallout. It’s not always because she’s blinded by love, but she’s being manipulated.”

Mina shoots him a look. “Wow, you talk like you weren’t smuggling cocaine in high school.”

Henry groans, flipping her off. “For the last time, I was broke, okay? I needed cash, and it was a quick way to make money.”

Mina snorts. “Yeah, yeah. I just can’t believe you were out there selling coke to Jungkook of all people.”

You lean back against the bed, half-listening to them bicker, half-lost in thought. It’s been a while since you’ve hung out like this, probably since before Jungkook.

It’s crazy how much your life has changed since him. The good, the bad… and everything in between.

Chloe, who’s been quiet, finally speaks up. “Babe,” she says gently, turning to you. “I get that you love him. But if being with him is messing with your head, that’s not love. That’s control. And if you keep letting it slide, it’s only gonna get worse.”

She holds your gaze, voice softer now. “Love is supposed to make you happy. Not suffocate you.”

Now that you’re actually aware of what’s going on between you and Jungkook, you have no clue how to deal with it. Do you bring it up? Do you let it slide? Do you even want to address it at all?

Your friends make it sound so simple. Just talk to him, stand your ground, don’t let him control you. Or worse, break up with him. But the moment you even consider doing any of that, your mind shuts down. The thought alone makes you want to retreat. What if it makes things worse? What if he gets distant? What if you regret it?

You’re not the type to challenge Jungkook, not when you know how he reacts. He never outright shuts you down, but his silence, his coldness. It’s enough to make you second-guess yourself. So, most of the time, you just let things slide. It’s easier that way.

Still, a part of you was waiting for him to call or text last night. He didn’t. And now, you’re torn between reaching out first or pretending like it doesn’t bother you. Either way, the weight in your chest hasn’t lifted.

And now, it’s morning. Time to face him. And if you’re being honest, you’re nowhere near ready.

But there’s no avoiding it. No matter how much time you’ve had to think about what to say or how to say it, you’ll never be fully prepared.

Your friends dropped you off at your own apartment, unaware that you had no intention of staying. You didn’t want them to know you were going back to Jungkook. Maybe because you didn’t want to hear their protests. Or maybe because, deep down, you weren’t ready to admit to them or yourself that you still couldn’t walk away.

Stepping inside, you’re greeted by the same apartment, the same furniture, the same neatly arranged belongings. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. It hasn’t been for a while.

It’s past nine in the morning. You don’t know what time Jungkook expects you back, but you do know he expected you to leave with him last night. That’s enough to make your stomach twist.

You sink into the couch, staring at nothing, lost in the spiral of your own thoughts. Flashes of last night replay in your mind. The way your friends looked at you, their words, their concern. And then, memories of Jungkook resurface the good ones, the ones that make it so damn hard to leave.

The idea of walking away terrifies you.

You love him. More than you probably should. More than what might be good for you. And even if this isn’t sustainable, even if a part of you knows something has to change… you’re not ready.

Not yet.

You lost track of time until his message popped up:

‘I cooked lunch.’

That’s it. No questions, no extra words. Just a statement.

As you walk through the lobby of his apartment building, your pulse quickens, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You tell yourself to calm down, but the closer you get, the harder it is to breathe. You wish you could put this off a little longer, but you can’t.

Your fingers shake as you punch in his door code. You hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

And then, without thinking, you step inside.

The apartment is filled with natural light, curtains drawn open to welcome the crisp autumn air. It’s colder now, the season shifting.

He’s at his desk in the living room, focused on his laptop. The moment he notices you, his face lights up. He gets up instantly, closing the distance between you in a few strides, wrapping you in a warm hug, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“You’re finally home. You should eat. I made beer-battered fish.”

His voice is light, casual, like nothing happened last night.

You hesitate for a second before answering. "Okay."

It comes out flat, almost lifeless.

You walk toward the dining table, already set with plates and food, and sit down. You expect him to follow, to sit across from you like usual.

But he doesn’t.

And somehow, that makes you even more nervous.

You’re not hungry. Even if you were, you wouldn’t have the appetite for this. But you force yourself to finish the food he made anyway, each bite sitting heavy in your stomach. It’s not the taste, it’s the way your nerves are twisting into knots, making you feel like you might be sick.

He doesn’t come in while you eat. The silence in the apartment is suffocating, pressing in on you like a weight you can’t shake off.

When you’re done, you get up and head toward the bedroom to change, passing through the living room where he still sits. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word, like you’re not even there.

It’s driving you insane.

A while ago, he seemed fine. Now, he feels like a ticking bomb.

You’d rather he just say something, anything than sit there like this. You know his cold treatment too well; it’s his way of controlling the situation, making you come to him first. But this time, something about it feels different.

You don’t know how. You just know it does.

You’ve already showered, organized your closet, done everything you could think of to keep yourself busy. And yet, the apartment feels empty. Or rather, he feels absent.

Maybe he’s just busy.

But you know better.

Steeling yourself, you step out of the bedroom and head toward the dining area. You don’t even make it halfway before you hear it, his scoff, sharp and pointed.

“So you’re really gonna act like nothing happened, huh?”

There it is.

You turn to see him standing up from his chair, arms crossed, leaning casually against the kitchen’s pass-through window. His expression is unreadable, but his tone drips with sarcasm.

“You’re not even gonna explain last night?” His lips twitch as he watches you, waiting.

You hesitate, then exhale. “Nothing happened. They just wanted me to stay. That’s it.”

You keep it short, simple. The less you say, the better. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But even now, you can’t believe how hard you’re trying to avoid this.

Jungkook shifts, hands slipping into his pockets as he steps toward you. His face is neutral, unreadable, but his presence alone makes your pulse spike.

When he’s finally in front of you, he leans in just enough, his gaze locked onto yours, dark and unwavering.

Then, in a low whisper, he says—

“Why do you make me feel so stupid?”

“No, I’m not!” you snap, voice shaking with frustration. “That’s really what happened! They found out I wasn’t staying the night because you didn’t let me.” You take a step back, putting distance between you.

His brow arches, his expression unreadable. “So you’re blaming me now?”

“It’s not like that,” you grit out. “I told you I’d come home with you, right? But instead, you made me stay.” Your patience is wearing thin, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Jungkook scoffs, his jaw tightening. “Because that’s what you wanted to happen.” His voice drop dangerously low. “You didn’t even pick up your fucking phone. You didn’t give a damn that I was losing my mind, calling you hundreds of times, wondering if something happened to you.”

Your breath catches. He’s right. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t because your phone was buried somewhere in your bag. But that doesn’t mean you wanted to ignore him.

Jungkook shakes his head, his gaze piercing through you. “You love doing this, don’t you? Running off, not answering your fucking phone, making me go insane thinking something happened to you.” His voice is like fire, burning through the tension between you.

A sharp pang of guilt twists in your chest. You can’t deny he’s right, but it’s not like you did it on purpose. It was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, okay?” you say, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t mean to leave my phone behind. They just—” you pause, searching for the right words, “they cornered me, forced me to stay because they were upset that I kept ditching them.” Your voice softens, hoping to ease the tension. “Of course, I wanted to stay. It’s Chloe’s last night before she leaves.”

But Jungkook doesn’t ease up. If anything, he looks even more pissed. His eyes darken, his lips curling into something bitter.

“Oh, right,” he drawls. “Why don’t you just do what you did before? Go out with them without telling me.”

The accusation hits you like a slap. You blink, momentarily stunned.

He catches it immediately, his smirk sharpening. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he says, voice low and edged with something dangerous. “We both know you do.”

He’s right but it was one time. Just once. And you never did it again.

“And did I ever confront you after you did that?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. “I didn’t. And now you wanna question why I don’t like you hanging out with them so much?” He lets out a cold laugh, shaking his head. “Because I know you’d pick them over me.”

“What are you saying? That’s not true!” You shake your head, frustration bubbling up as you take a step closer, reaching for him.

But before you can even touch his arm, he moves away. Fast and deliberate.

"You all act like I’m the fucking villain just because I care about you," he spits, his voice shaking with frustration. "But you never question them, do you? You never doubt your precious friends. Henry did illegal shit before, and you didn’t even fucking flinch. I just don’t get it… Why is it so easy for you to doubt me, but you’d defend them in a heartbeat?"

A lump forms in your throat as you watch the single tear slide down his face. Your body instinctively moves, but something inside you hesitates.

And with that, you see yourself all over him.

"Love, stop—please.” Your hands tremble as they reach for him, but he turns away. “I… I don’t want you to feel that way. I never meant to make you think that.” Your voice breaks, a lump forming in your throat. “You have to believe me.”

You try to reach him hoping he won’t flinch. Your hands find his face, fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw as you gently wipe away the tears, your voice softening. “I don’t think you’re wrong. I don’t blame you. Please don’t believe that.”

He stays silent, letting you wipe his tears, his breathing uneven, his jaw tense. His eyes stay downcast, refusing to meet yours. But when he finally looks up, something in them is cold and distant.

His hands come up, gently wrapping around yours as they rest on his cheeks, but instead of leaning into your touch, he slowly peels them away. His warmth disappears as he steps back, putting space between you.

"I think… it’s better if we take a break," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the thick air between you.

He holds your gaze for a moment, just long enough for your stomach to sink, for your chest to tighten before he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, frozen, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your skin.

You stand there, frozen, the weight of the last five minutes pressing down on you like a tidal wave. It happened too fast, so fast that even now, as the seconds drag on, your mind refuses to catch up.

Where did you go wrong?

All you ever wanted was to be happy, but it feels like happiness always comes at a price. Like the universe waits for you to smile just so it can rip something away. What did you do to deserve this?

Is this love? A love that confines you, that forces you to choose?

Love is supposed to set you free, isn’t it? But instead, you’re trapped, forced to pick between him and your friends, even when you should be able to have both.

He left. No call, no message, no sign of where he is or if he even cares that you’re falling apart.

That day, you cried harder than you ever had before. You wanted it to stop the exhaustion, the ache in your chest, the way your tears wouldn’t stop spilling no matter how much you told yourself to breathe.

Are you really the one at fault? Or are you just trying to convince yourself you are?

Because when you think back, when you trace every argument, every moment that led you here, the path always leads back to you.

Maybe if you had just done what you were supposed to as his girlfriend, this wouldn’t have happened.

Maybe he was only trying to protect you, and you mistook it for control.

Maybe... maybe this is all your fault.

You waited for him that night, but the door never opened.

Alone in his cold, empty apartment, you curled up in bed, the silence pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. The room felt lifeless without him, just shadows and stale air, a place that wasn’t home without his presence.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you reached for your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed his number. The ringing felt endless, each unanswered call chipping away at the hope you were holding onto. Message after message went unread, each one met with nothing but silence.

With every call he ignored, your chest grew heavier. With every text he didn’t even bother to open, your tears only fell harder.

Is this what he felt when you didn’t pick up those nights? When your phone sat forgotten in your bag while you laughed with your family and friends, unaware that he was here, alone, drowning in the same silence that’s now swallowing you whole?

The thought broke you.

You sobbed into the pillow, exhaustion creeping in, but no matter how drained you felt, the tears wouldn’t stop.

‘Love, I’m really sorry. I promise to understand you better. Please come back.’

That was the last message you sent before sleep finally took over as your phone slipping from your grasp.

A soft touch brushes your cheek, warm and featherlight. It pulls you from your sleep, but the pounding in your head makes you wish you could slip right back under. Your eyelids feel like they weigh a ton, but when you force them open, the first thing you see is a blurred figure sitting beside you.

Jungkook.

Even though you feel awful, the second you recognize him, you push yourself up, ignoring the ache in your body.

“Kook.” Your voice cracks as tears spill down your cheeks. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, gripping him tightly. “Where have you been? I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out between sobs, raw and desperate.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently pulls away, his expression unreadable as he wipes the tears from your face. His touch is slow, deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours.

You reach up, pressing his hands against your cheeks, needing to feel him, to make sure he’s really here. You have a lot to say, but nothing comes out. His presence alone is overwhelming, so instead, you lean into him again, wrapping your arms around him, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his body.

“Did I worry you that much?” His voice is soft, almost teasing, as he pats your back.

You nod, burying your face into his shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes before leaning in, his lips brushing over yours in a soft, kiss. His kiss is soft at first, teasing, but the second you open up for him, his grip tightens, one hand cupping your face while the other slides down your back, pressing you flush against him. He groans into your mouth, deep and needy.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him and he pressed you back against the bed, his body pinning you in place. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you couldn't help but arch your head back, giving him even more access to your neck. You let out a small gasp as he began kissing and biting at your collarbone as his mouth continue to explore your body with his mouth.

His hand slides lower, fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts, playing with the fabric but not moving further. His lips ghost over yours, teasing, as he watches the way your chest rises and falls beneath him.

Before things could go any further, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. You both stayed like that for a moment, caught in the stillness, before you gently guided his body to lie next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. He let out a soft chuckle, but you weren’t focused on that. Instead, you rested your head on his chest, your fingers finding his, intertwining them tightly as you settled into the comfort of his presence.

And just like that, everything is back to normal. At least on the surface.

You apologized over and over, making sure he knew you never meant to hurt him. You reassured him that he was right, that everything he did was only for your sake. You didn’t push back, and didn’t ask questions. Instead, you accepted the blame like it was yours to carry.

He never said sorry. Not even once. Not even for leaving you alone the entire night.

But you let it slide because, in the end, it was your fault… wasn’t it?

After that, you chose your words carefully, avoiding anything that might set him off again. You never wanted to feel that kind of loneliness again, the kind that settles deep in your bones, creeping through the empty, dark space he left behind.

You had already made him feel that way before. Twice, actually. So who were you to complain?

Yeah, it’s all on me.

You tell yourself that, over and over, until it almost feels true. But somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice whispers. Is it, though?

Why is it always you taking the blame?

Why does it feel like your feelings don’t matter?

Why is it always you bending, apologizing, making things right?

But before those thoughts can settle, you push them away. It’s easier that way. Easier than starting another fight.

You've come to realize that in this relationship, it's always you who has to bend. And maybe that's fair. After all, every problem you've had somehow traces back to you, doesn’t it?

And just like that, everything is back to normal. Just the way you wanted. You've pushed aside all the doubts, all the nagging thoughts, and focused on the present. You're okay again. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

The next day, you spend the entire day at his place, filing another leave of absence. You would have gone to work, but with his influence in the company, you didn't really have a choice. He wanted you to stay with him, so he made sure of it, calling in on your behalf. It should bother you. It does bother you. But you let it slide. Another argument isn’t worth it.

“Love, I’ve been thinking,” his voice is low, and smooth, as he moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The warmth of his body presses against yours as he pulls you closer. “We haven’t gone on vacation in a while.” His hold tightens slightly as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips nibbling your skin just enough to make you shiver.

You keep your focus on the pan in front of you, stirring the glossy red sauce of the spicy gochujang dish he once taught you to make.

“And where do you want to go?” you ask, keeping your voice light, as if this is just another conversation.

“I want to take you to my hometown.” His voice is smooth, as his chin settles on your shoulder. His arms stay firmly wrapped around your waist. “You’ve always wanted to see where I grew up, right?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Lately, things have been… overwhelming,” he continues, his voice softer now. “I think we could use a break. Just the two of us. What do you think?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes watching you closely, waiting.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course. I’d love that.” The words leave your lips before you even process them.

He grins, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “That’s perfect! We’ll leave this Wednesday. Tomorrow, let’s wrap up a few things before we go.” His tone is light and excited.

You froze.

Wednesday?

You glance at him over your shoulder.

“This Wednesday?” You ask as if you misheard.

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah.” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Something in his voice shifts ever so slightly as he studies your face. “Why?” He tilts his head, and though his lips curl into a small smile, there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. “You don’t want to go?”

The way he says it, it’s not a question. Not really. It’s a warning. A test.

And you already know the right answer.

“N-no… Of course, I like it. But isn’t this a little… sudden?” You try to sound reasonable, careful not to make it seem like you’re pushing back. “Korea is on the other side of the world, love.”

Jungkook tilts his head, watching you with an unreadable expression before raising a brow. “I don’t see the problem.” His voice is calm and dismissive.

You take a breath. “I have work.”

At that, he smirks, like you just said the funniest thing. “And?” His fingers lazily trace patterns on your arm, his touch light but distracting. “You can file a vacation leave, right? Or…” He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours. “If you still want to work, we can set up a work-from-home arrangement.” He says it so easily.

His thumb touches your wrist. “You don’t have to worry, love. Even if you resigned tomorrow, you’d still be fine. You have me.” He smiles, pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead. “I can give you anything you need. Anything you want.”

Your chest tightens, and yet, the words slip from your lips before you can stop them. “Okay.” Because what else are you supposed to say?

“How long are we staying?” You ask, hoping for a solid timeframe, something to hold onto.

Jungkook shrugs, lips curling into a small smile. “I don’t know yet.” His voice is light, almost playful. “But don’t worry, we’ll stay as long as you want.”

Something in your gut tells you the choice isn’t really yours to make.

You’re not expecting anything extraordinary from this trip with Jungkook. To you, it’s just a regular vacation. Your first one together, sure, and your first time traveling so far, but still, just a trip. Something to look forward to, a break from everything.

You tell yourself it’s just that. A getaway.

But what you don’t know is that Jungkook has plans of his own. Plans you wish you had seen coming. Plans that won’t just shift your view of him but will change your life in ways you never imagined.

If only you had realized it sooner, before it slipped beyond your control.

—

Jungkook loves you to the point of obsession. To the point where the thought of losing you tears at him like an ache that never fades. He already has you, but it’s not enough. Not yet. Because if he doesn’t hold on tight, you might slip away.

He tells himself he’s only taking care of you, keeping you safe the way no one else can. But care isn’t enough. He needs all of you. Your body, your mind, and your heart trapped so deeply in him that escape isn’t an option.

You’re fast asleep beside him, your head tilted slightly toward him as the plane hums steadily through the air. Jungkook glances at you, his fingers instinctively adjusting your blanket before brushing away a few stray strands of hair from your face.

His chest tightens just looking at you. His heart beating a little too fast, a little too hard. His fingertips trace the curve of your cheek, lingering for a moment, memorizing the warmth of your skin.

He loves you, so much that it gets under his skin. The thought of you slipping away, of someone else touching you, laughing with you, knowing you the way he does, it makes his blood run hot. It’s possessive, a little unhinged, but he doesn’t care because as long as you're his, everything feels right.

He sat there in the dim glow of the cabin lights, watching you. Just watching. Your head rested against the seat behind him, your slow, steady breaths syncing with the quiet hum of the plane. You looked so peaceful, so his.

Jungkook’s fingers twitched, aching to touch you. Carefully, he reached for your hand, his touch featherlight to avoid waking you. His fingers slipped between yours, securing them. He exhaled slowly, lowering himself beside you, his body finally at ease. With your warmth so close, he allowed his eyes to close.

Seoul welcomed you with open arms.

The city was electric, alive in a way that made your eyes shine. Jungkook had seen Seoul a thousand times, but seeing it through you made it feel new. You marveled at the skyline, the pulse of the streets, the way everything felt both familiar and foreign. He loved that look on your face, pure, unfiltered awe.

He wanted to give you a tour, let you soak in every inch of this place, but exhaustion clung to you after the long flight. He wasn’t about to let you wear yourself out. You had all the time in the world here.

Jungkook’s Seoul penthouse was larger than the one back home. More luxurious. The moment he led you inside, he saw the way your lips parted, your gaze sweeping across the expansive space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like a moving painting, streaks of gold and blue reflecting off sleek marble floors. The chandelier overhead cast a warm glow, elegant yet imposing.

Unlike his other penthouse, which leaned toward a more minimalistic style, this one felt fuller, like a place meant to be lived in, not just visited. And now, with you here, it finally felt like home.

Jungkook watched as you moved through the space, your fingertips grazing the polished surfaces, curiosity flickering in your eyes. His stomach tightened. He wanted to freeze this moment, capture the way you looked standing there, fitting so perfectly into his world.

Before he even told you about this trip, he had already made sure everything was perfect. The penthouse, his Seoul home wasn’t just renovated. It was transformed. Every detail was designed to make you feel more at home here than anywhere else. More than the other penthouse. More than the place you called home.

Jungkook didn’t just want you to love this place. He wanted you to feel like you belonged here. That leaving wasn’t even an option.

“Kook, I thought I knew how rich you were, but damn, this is way more than I imagined!” you said, swirling the wine in your glass as you lounged on the couch. The city lights stretched out through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, Seoul alive beneath you.

Jungkook leaned in, taking your free hand in his before pressing a slow kiss to the back of it. But even that wasn’t enough. Sitting beside you wasn’t enough. He wanted more, needed more. Holding your hand was just a weak substitute for what he really craved.

“This is where I lived for six years," he murmured, brushing his lips along your knuckles. “So I wanted it to feel like home.”

Your home.

You tilted your head, watching him with curiosity. “Where are your parents? Do they live separately from you?”

“They’re in Busan,” he answered smoothly, taking a sip of his wine. “That’s my hometown, but I moved here when I started my business.”

You hummed, nodding. Then, the question came.

“Are we going to meet them?”

Jungkook stilled. His lips remained against your skin, but his movements stopped. He tilted his head slightly, a slow grin spreading across his face as he held your gaze.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. “One of these weeks.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had plans for you to meet his family eventually. But not now. Not yet. Right now, he wanted you all to himself, with no distractions, no outside influences. If you met them too soon, they might say things, ask questions, things that could make you think too much.

And he couldn’t have that.

Not when everything was falling into place so perfectly.

His parents were good people. Sweet, jolly, loving. Just like yours. And they loved him, he knew that.

But love didn’t always mean understanding.

Everything changed when they decided to move him away from you after high school. That was their mistake.

His family used to own a food company. It was doing well, until it wasn’t. Bankruptcy hit hard, and they had to pack up and start over in another country, relying on relatives to get back on their feet. Then, years later, some investor showed up, talking big about bringing the company back. His parents ate it up, convinced this was their second chance.

And just like that, they dragged him back to Busan.

For what? A company that was never going to make it? He knew from the start it wouldn’t work, and surprise, surprise. It didn’t.

But that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was being away from you.

That shit messed him up.

The years without you were torture.

They twisted his mind, frayed the edges of his sanity. Every single day without you bothered him, turned his thoughts into something negative, something desperate. He had spent so many nights thinking of you, wanting you, missing you so badly that he almost left everything behind just to find you again.

But, of course, it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that easy. He needed a plan.

And now?

Now, everything he had, everything he built, it was all for you.

And he wasn’t going to lose you again.

Your first few days in Seoul were everything you imagined. New places, new experiences, a whole different world to explore. You wanted to do everything at once, squeezing a week’s worth of plans into a single day.

Jungkook found it cute. Exhausting, but cute.

Still, he didn’t like how restless you were. There was no need to rush. You had all the time in the world here with him.

“I saw this huge library in Gangnam,” you said over dinner in Hongdae, eyes practically glowing with excitement. “I think it’d be nice to spend a whole day there, just working and reading. What do you think?”

Jungkook glanced at you, chewing slowly. “You wanna work there for a day, hmm?” His voice was gentle, but his grip on his chopsticks tightened slightly.

He wanted you to enjoy Seoul, but he preferred to pace things out. He had everything planned, not just for the city, but for the rest of South Korea. And you’d explore it all his way.

“Yeah, I just wanna try working outside your apartment for a change. I think that’d be cool,” you said, sipping your drink.

Of course, your job let you work remotely. Because of him.

It wasn’t difficult to pull some strings, to make sure your company gave you that freedom. Jungkook could’ve had you quit altogether if he wanted, but he wasn’t reckless. He knew better than to push too hard, too soon.

He had limits. The kind that kept you from slipping away.

“Okay, you can do that tomorrow.”

As much as he wanted to be with you every second of the day, he couldn’t. He had business to handle too. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on you.

You weren’t familiar with Seoul yet, and he needed you to be. He wanted you to settle in, to feel at home here the same way you did back in your country because that’s exactly what he planned for.

Of course, he wasn’t reckless. He wouldn’t just send you off on your own without precautions. He had someone watching, just in case. It wasn’t about control, it was about keeping you safe. People might think he was being overbearing, but they didn’t understand. If you have something precious, you don’t risk losing it. You protect it.

And he already lost you once. That wasn’t happening again.

—

Sitting in a high-rise conference room, discussing market expansion with Seoul’s biggest executives, Jungkook casually checked his phone under the table. His screen lit up with your activity, a habit he never planned to break.

You were at home. That was good. But you’d been on a phone call for almost an hour.

His jaw tightened. Who the hell were you talking to for that long?

He didn’t have full access to your conversations, just enough to know where you were and what you were doing on your phone. Usually, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But this? This was new. And he didn’t like surprises.

Jungkook locked his phone and leaned back in his chair, eyes unreadable as the meeting droned on.

It could be your friends. It could be your family. It could be anyone.

But the fact that he didn’t know was driving him insane.

“We’re positioning ourselves as a premium alternative. Market research shows a gap in high-end offerings for this industry, and we intend to fill that space,” Yoongi, the CEO, said, but Jungkook barely heard him.

His grip tightened on his phone as he stared at your activity log. The timestamp kept ticking up. Forty-five minutes, then fifty, then an hour. Who the hell were you talking to for that long?

Mina? Chloe? Fine. He could tolerate that.

But it could also be Henry.

Fuck him.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. He knew Henry was “just a friend,” but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t like you talking to any man, let alone being friends with one. If it were up to him, he would’ve cut Henry off years ago.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook blinked, snapping out of it when he heard his name. He glanced up from his phone, locking the screen before looking at Yoongi.

“Come again?” he asked, voice steady despite the irritation simmering beneath it.

“As I mentioned, we’re positioning ourselves as a high-end alternative. Market research reveals a lack of premium options in this industry, and we plan to capitalize on that opportunity,” yoongi repeated, watching him carefully.

Jungkook exhaled, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Good,” he said coolly. “But I want clear numbers. Expected ROI, break-even timeline, and contingency plans if the initial launch underperforms. Email them to me by my Monday.”

Yoongi nodded, but Jungkook wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He cut the meeting short without a second thought, pushing back his other appointments. He needed to go home. Now.

The thought of you on the phone for over an hour, laughing, talking, confiding in someone while he was stuck in a boardroom made his blood boil. He couldn’t stand not knowing. He needed to be in control, needed to know every little detail, even the things that weren’t his business. Because when it came to you, everything was his business.

When he stepped into the penthouse, the sight of you greeted him instantly. You were in the receiving area, vacuuming, completely unaware of how restless he’d been.

You’d been here for a week already, and as much as he was letting you do whatever you wanted, he was also watching. Watching what you did, who you talked to, how you spent your time.

“You’re home early. I thought you weren’t coming back until dinner,” you said, smiling as he walked toward you. He pressed a quick kiss against your lips, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Yeah, I am,” he said smoothly, shrugging off his coat. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

You turned off the vacuum, stretching your arms a little. “I’m good. Just cleaning up a bit.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered around the room until he spotted your phone on the center table.

“What did you do today?” Jungkook asked, watching you closely, waiting, hoping you’d tell him without him having to drag it out of you.

You glanced at him briefly. “Just cleaned up a little and got some work done this morning.”

Not the answer he wanted.

If you were going to tell him about that damn phone call, you would’ve said it by now. But you didn’t.

He couldn’t ask outright, not yet. He knew how easily thoughts could plant themselves in your mind, and he didn’t need you questioning things. He’d find another way to figure it out.

Then you hesitated, inhaling like you had something to say. Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Jungkook leaned against the counter, loosening his tie. “You wanna say something, love?”

You finally spoke. “We’ve been here for a week already, but… we haven’t really done much for a vacation.”

Ah.

You didn’t even need to finish. He already knew where this was going.

“I know you’re really busy with work, but I was just wondering… how long are we planning to stay here?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment before tilting his head slightly, lips twitching in amusement. “Why? You wanna go home already?”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. “Of course not! I was just curious… I mean, we’re here for a vacation, but you work a lot.”

He knew what you meant, but that didn’t mean he liked hearing it.

“Oh? I didn’t realize we weren’t allowed to work during a vacation.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, one brow raised.

“That’s not what I meant,” you huffed. “I just—I was just wondering—”

Jungkook cut you off, nodding as if he was mocking you. “I get it. You want us to go out more instead of me working.”

“N-no, that’s not—”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” His voice was smooth, sharp eyes locked onto you. “I get your point. We’ll do things your way.”

Except you didn’t need to say it. He already knew what was on your mind. But he wasn’t going to let you say it.

True to his word, Jungkook made sure to give you what you wanted.

For the next week, he took you around the city showing you Seoul through his own curated version of it. He noticed the way your mood shifted, heavier than before, and he knew it was because of that conversation.

But he didn’t have to address it.

Because soon enough, you’d forget about it.

Just like right now.

—

You were sipping a hot coffee, eyes locked on the dazzling view from Namsan Tower. The city stretched beneath you, glowing under the deep night sky, and Jungkook knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Wow. Seoul is really beautiful, Kook,” you murmured, your voice full of wonder.

But he wasn’t looking at the view.

He was looking at you.

You were glowing under the soft moonlight, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. He should be admiring the skyline, but you were the only thing worth looking at. He hated how much he loved moments like this, how much he wanted to preserve them.

So, without a word, he pulled his phone from his pocket, aimed the camera at you, and snapped a photo.

You notice Jungkook taking a picture of you, and without hesitation, you step closer, snatching his phone from his hand. A grin spreads across your face as you switch to the front camera.

“Come on, Kook, smile!” you say, glancing at him before snapping a quick selfie. The first shot catches him off guard, his expression unreadable, but you don’t stop there. You take a few more. Three, to be exact until you're satisfied.

Jungook watches you quietly, letting you have your moment.

“Honestly, a picture doesn’t even do justice to how beautiful this city is,” you say, handing his phone back before turning to admire the view again.

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he finally looks at the skyline, pretending to take in the same sight you are. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says, voice smooth, controlled.

You glance at him, eyes curious. “Since you’ve lived here most of your life, are you used to seeing this view?”

Jungkook leans against the railing, watching the city lights flicker. “Hmm… I’d say yes, but I still find it beautiful.”

You hum in response, sipping your coffee. “Our city is nice too, but maybe I appreciate this more since it’s my first time here.”

A slow smirk tugs at Jungkook’s lips. Good.

Because you’d be here longer than you expected.

And by the time you realized it… you’d already have fallen in love with it.

You both linger around Namsan Tower a little longer, strolling past the endless sea of love locks. The air is crisp, carrying the quiet hum of the city below. You stop at a small booth selling locks, eyes lighting up as you pick one.

“Kook, let’s do one,” you say, already reaching for a marker. You scribble your initials on the lock, then his, before securing it onto the fence. With a grin, you toss the key away, watching it disappear into the night.

Jungkook watches you, amusement flickering in his eyes. You think this lock is what symbolizes your unbreakable bond? That’s cute. But it’s unnecessary.

With or without it, you’re his. He’ll make sure of that.

Jungkook slips an arm around your waist, pulling you in as he looks down at the love lock you just attached. “Unbreakable, huh?” he murmurs, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

If only you knew how true that was.

You’ve done almost everything there is to do in Seoul, and he knows you’ve loved every second of it. From the food to the culture, every little thing has captivated you. And watching you take it all in, smiling like this city is your new home, it’s a sight he could never get tired of.

One of the things he’s grown to love about you is how easily pleased you are. The smallest things make you happy, and that makes you easy to care for. Easy to keep close.

Even back in high school, you saw something in him that others didn’t. When people distanced themselves, you stayed. When they looked away, you looked closer. You chose him, even when no one else would.

Maybe it was a pity. Maybe it was something deeper. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that you loved him, and that was enough. Enough for him to hold on, to fight for this, to shape this love into something unshakable. What others thought of him was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was you, your choices, your opinions. And as long as he could help it, your choices would always align with his. Even if that meant guiding them himself.

He took you around South Korea, but on his terms. It wasn’t the kind of vacation where every day was a new adventure. No, he kept it balanced. Some days for exploring, some for work. That was how it had to be.

You never argued. Never complained. Whether it was because you didn’t mind or because you simply chose not to voice it, he didn’t care. Silence was compliance, and compliance meant control.

And that’s exactly how he wanted it.

Jungkook followed a step behind you as you traced your fingers along the cold metal railing, your gaze lost in the beauty of Nami Island. The soft autumn breeze played with the hem of your pleated skirt, your oversized knitted sweater draping over your frame in a way that made you look so warm, so delicate. He couldn’t wait to take you home, wrap you up in his arms, and keep you there for as long as he wanted.

You stopped suddenly, turning to him with a soft smile. It was enough to make his heart stutter, but there was something in your eyes. Something distant. He quickened his pace, closing the space between you, and without a word, he took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked side by side.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Kook,” you said, your voice light but careful.

He glanced at you, studying your expression. You were smiling, but he knew you too well, something was off.

“It’s a pleasure, love.” He waited, expecting you to say more. But you didn’t.

He hated that.

“How much do you love your stay here?” His tone was casual, but the question wasn’t.

“I really love it here, Jungkook. I really do. Korea is so different from home, but still, I love it here.”

Home.

The word made something dark coil inside him.

He pulled you closer, guiding your head against his chest before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He held you there as you walked together, feeling the warmth of your body against his, the way you fit so perfectly against him. You were his home, his peace. His.

But no matter how tightly he held on, he couldn’t control everything. He could make every decision for you, shape every choice in his favor, but there was one thing he hadn’t accounted for:

The possibility that you might make a choice of your own.

And that was the one thing he wasn’t prepared for.

Jungkook barely had time to remove his coat when he saw the worry in your eyes. You looked like you’d been waiting for him for a while, pacing, rehearsing your words. He already didn’t like where this was going.

“Jungkook,” you started, your voice edged with hesitation. “I just had a meeting with our senior. They need me back for a presentation with new investors and stakeholders. I also have to report to the board—”

He stopped listening. He didn’t need to hear the rest. The way your voice wavered, the way you clutched your hands together, he already knew what you were about to ask.

“Then let someone else handle it.” His tone was clipped, final, like it was the simplest solution in the world.

“I can’t!” Your frustration spilled over, your voice rising slightly. “I’m the Investor Relations Manager. It’s my job, Kook! No one else can do it.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

He had already let you keep your job even though he preferred otherwise. It was his choice to allow it. And now, you were asking him to choose again? To let you go back?

“When are we going home?” Your voice softened, practically pleading now. “Kook, they really need me this time.”

He held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable, then casually looked away as he removed his coat, his movements slow, deliberate.

“I’m not sure,” he finally said, shaking off invisible creases in the fabric. “I’ll be busy for the next couple of weeks. I have deals to close, business meetings to attend. You know how it is.”

You swallowed hard. “Then can I go home first?”

That made him stop. Completely.

His fingers curled around the fabric of his coat, knuckles whitening as the air between you turned still. His dark eyes lifted to meet yours, and something flickered behind them. Something unreadable yet unmistakably dangerous.

“You’re leaving me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but underneath it was something else.

Panic.

You stepped closer, shaking your head quickly. “Kook, I’m not leaving you. I just— I really need to go back. Just for work.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he let out a slow, humorless scoff.

“Wow,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “After everything I’ve done for you, is it that easy for you to leave? Just because they called you? What? Once?”

“That’s not—”

Jungkook’s fingers twitched at his side, his breathing slow, controlled—too controlled. He could feel his patience thinning, unraveling like a loose thread he was trying desperately to keep together.

“They told you before?” His voice was quiet, almost calm, but there was something beneath it. Something sharp. “And you didn’t tell me?”

You flinched slightly. “I didn’t want to ruin your mood,” you admitted.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, jaw locking. “And now you’re blaming me?”

You pressed your lips together, frustration flickering across your face. “No, of course not! I just—I didn’t want to ruin our vacation, Jungkook. That’s why I kept it to myself. But I have to tell you now.”

He scoffed. “And you don’t think telling me now ruins it?”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Well, that’s exactly what you meant, Y/N!” His voice was sharper now.

You blinked at him, startled by the sudden shift. He rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it was like a storm brewing, low, intense, unpredictable.

“I’ve been here, juggling everything. Work, time with you, making sure you have everything you need. And you—” He let out a dry laugh. “The second they call, you’re ready to drop everything. Just like that.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. No words came out.

Jungkook tilted his head, studying you. The way your hands trembled slightly at your sides, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed back emotions you were trying so hard to hide.

He should feel guilty. He should care.

But he didn’t.

“The worst part?” His voice was softer now, but it was the kind of softness that made the air feel heavy. “You prove to me, over and over again, that I will never be your priority.”

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye, but he didn’t move. Didn’t reach for you.

Let you feel it. Let you sit in it.

Because this wasn’t just about work. This was about control.

And he refused to lose it.

“If you’re so desperate to leave,” he finally said, turning away, his voice cold and detached, “then go.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

Didn’t need to.

Because he already knew that you won’t leave.

He couldn’t understand why you insisted on working. It wasn’t like you had to. He was here, ready to give you everything. Yet, you kept holding on to something so insignificant when he had already built an entire fucking empire for you. Every deal, every dollar, every sacrifice, it was all for you.

When he started making real money, it wasn’t greed that drove him It was you. You were the reason he clawed his way to the top, the reason he burned through sleepless nights, the reason he never let himself fail. He stayed away, kept his distance, let you live your little life because he wanted to come back when he was ready, when he was powerful enough to make sure you could never slip through his fingers again.

The person you knew in high school? He buried him. In his place stands someone unrecognizable, someone untouchable. And yet, no matter how much money, status, or control he has, the thought of you walking away still eats him alive.

So before that can happen, he’s already making sure it won’t. Because what’s the point of having everything if he doesn’t have you?

You’re the only fucking reason he has to live.

Jungkook yanked his phone from his pocket, his fingers moving swiftly as he dialed the CEO of your company. He knew you wouldn’t leave. Not really. You couldn’t. But he wasn’t the type to sit back and hope. He made sure of things. He always did.

“Y/N won’t be coming back,” he said the moment the call connected, his tone cold, final. “Fire her. Tell her she’s being replaced by someone more competent.”

There was no hesitation on the other end. Just immediate agreement. As it should be. The moment the call ended, he exhaled slowly, satisfied.

He worked too hard, built too much, just to have you run back to a life that no longer served his plans. Everything he had, his success, his power, it was all for you. But if your choices didn’t align with his? Then you didn’t need choices at all. He still let you think you had them, of course. As long as they led exactly where he wanted.

And sure enough, he was right. You didn’t leave. Because for what? Work? You didn’t have one anymore.

He watched as you withdrew, as you curled in on yourself, as you let the weight of everything settle in. He didn’t stop you when you pulled away, when you cried, when you let yourself crumble under the reality he created for you. He let you feel the loss, the loneliness. Not because he didn’t care. Of course, he cared. He always cared.

But sometimes, he had to let you break on your own. Because only then would you finally see, he was all you had. Just like you were all he needed.

Of course, he didn’t let you cry alone the whole time. He gave you space just enough to let the weight of everything sink in, to let you feel small, lost. But he was always there, lingering in the background, ready to be the only comfort you had left.

Because he would never leave you to suffer on your own. Not when he was the one who put you in this position in the first place. But you didn’t need to know that.

Now, in the dim glow of the bedroom, he held you close, feeling the way your body trembled against his. His arms were firm around you, securing you exactly where you belonged. Right here, with him. He leaned against the headboard, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns on your arm, his presence steady, inescapable.

“I know it hurts now, love,” he murmured, his voice soft, patient, the perfect contrast to the chaos he caused. “But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this happened for a reason. You’ll be fine… Trust me. As long as you’re with me, you’ll be fine.”

He wiped the tears from your cheeks with gentle fingers, studying your face as if memorizing every vulnerable detail. And you didn’t say a word. You didn’t ask for help, didn’t fight to get your job back, didn’t even question why it all happened so suddenly.

Nothing.

Only quiet sobs escaped your lips.

And that was fine. More than fine.

Because as long as this kept you here, exactly where he wanted you. He could live with that.

You stayed home for the following days. Barely leaving the bedroom. Jungkook let you be, giving you space while he handled business, but that only worked in his favor. You weren’t going anywhere, and he didn’t have to worry too much. Not when he had eyes on you the entire time.

Of course, you didn’t know about the hidden CCTV in the apartment. You didn’t need to.

Most of the time, when he checked the feed, you were either sleeping, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, or watching TV. You looked drained, distant. Maybe even depressed. But he wasn’t too concerned. You’d be fine. You always were.

He also monitored your phone activity. He saw the messages, the way you still kept in touch with your friends and family, updating them on your life. But he noticed how carefully you chose your words, how you left things out.

And that? That satisfied him.

You defended him without being asked, without him even having to plant the idea in your head. You already knew what he wanted. You knew exactly what to say, how to make them believe that everything was fine. That’s how he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you.

You were such a good girl for him. So obedient.

He knew your friends didn’t like him especially Mina. Not that it mattered. If anything, it thrilled him to watch you choose him over them every time. To watch you stand by him, no matter what.

It felt so good.

And he wasn’t going to let you drown in misery forever. No, he made sure of that.

For the past week, he took you out every day. Five-star restaurants, designer boutiques, all your favorite places. He made sure you were surrounded by luxury, by comfort, by him. He wiped away every trace of sadness, covering it up with indulgence, making you forget, if only for a moment what had been taken from you.

But he wasn’t blind. He saw the shift in you. The way your smiles were forced. The way your laughter lacked its usual warmth. The way you were starting to notice.

But he didn’t have to do anything about it.

Not yet.

Because sooner or later, you’d understand. The life he was giving you was far better than the one you had before.

And when that realization finally sank in?

You wouldn’t want to leave.

—

Just like he promised, he was taking you to Busan to meet his family. It felt like a necessary step. An assurance of his love for you. A way to solidify things, to remind you that he was willing to give you everything, even parts of himself he didn’t care for.

He also figured this trip would help. A change of scenery. New faces. Because lately, the only person you had been around was him. Not that he minded, but he didn’t want you to feel isolated. Even if, in reality, that was exactly what was happening.

His relationship with his parents had never been close. Even as a kid, there was always distance. But after they dragged him back to Korea, forcing him away from you, that’s when he truly cut them off.

The only reason he still tolerated them now was simple.

They were the reason he worked so hard. The reason he built everything from the ground up. The reason he clawed his way to the top, just to have you in his arms again.

If not for that, he wouldn’t even spare them a second thought.

"I'm really glad you finally visited us after so many years, son. And you even brought your girlfriend with you," Jungkook’s mother said, her voice warm with nostalgia.

Jungkook barely reacted, keeping his expression smooth as he sliced through his food. You and he sat at the dining table with his parents, the scent of simmered broth and fresh side dishes filling the space. His parents were thrilled, probably thinking this visit meant something.

They had no idea how he really felt. And they didn’t need to.

“What do you do for a living?” His father’s voice cut through the quiet clatter of utensils. The question was aimed at you, and instantly, Jungkook felt your body tense beside him. Your hand, which had been resting lightly on the table, twitched just slightly and he clenched his chopsticks tighter.

Before you could even answer, he spoke for you. “She’s taking a break right now. That’s why we’re here for a long time.” His voice was even, but his grip had turned rigid.

You turned to him, your expression unreadable, but he refused to meet your eyes. Instead, he continued eating, slow and controlled.

“Really? But what did you do before?” His mother chimed in, her curiosity laced with harmless interest.

He wanted to shut this conversation down. Shift it away. Stop them from prying. But he had to play along.

“I was an Investor Relations Manager,” you answered, offering a small, polite smile before turning your focus back to your food.

His father hummed in acknowledgment, then turned to Jungkook. “Investor, huh? As I recall, your business is in the same field, isn’t it?”

Jungkook stabbed his chopsticks into a piece of meat, his jaw tightening.

“You never tell us much about your life. Even your business,” his mother added.

"All we know is you’re making millions and millions every day. If only you invested in your own parents’ business, that would be great.”

Jungkook mentally rolled his eyes, keeping his expression unreadable.

He would never invest in something like that.

And he sure as hell would never invest in the very thing that tore him away from you.

Jungkook could feel your eyes on him, waiting for a response. But he kept his gaze fixed on his food, forcing himself to chew slowly. It wasn’t worth talking about. Not now. Not ever.

Sensing the silence stretching too long, you spoke up instead.

“Actually, Jungkook and I met at work, and before that, the last time we saw each other was in high school. That’s where we really got to know each other.”

His mother giggled, a soft, nostalgic sound. “I still can’t believe you two are high school sweet—”

“Honey, they were only friends in high school!” His father cut in with a laugh.

“Oh, right! But if we hadn’t moved back here, maybe you two would’ve been dating since then!”

Jungkook tightened his grip on his chopsticks. The conversation was light, harmless even. But he wasn’t stupid. He noticed how you shifted in your seat, how your fingers grazed the table absentmindedly like you were holding something back. He could read you too well. He knew there was something you wanted to say but you didn’t.

And he had a feeling he knew exactly what it was.

“If only he had introduced you to us before!” His mother sighed wistfully before turning her gaze to Jungkook. “You know, he was different when he was younger. More… open, I suppose. But ever since we moved back here, he became quiet, distant. We knew he wanted to stay in your country, he even begged us to go back but it wasn’t that simple.”

She looked at him then, a sad, longing expression crossing her face. “We’re proud of the man he’s become, of course. We just wish he could be open with us again. Let us back into his life.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. The sound of his father’s spoon clinking against his bowl suddenly felt too loud. The warm aroma of the food became nauseating.

This. This right here was why he had kept his distance. Why he loathed them.

Pathetic.

They sat there, spewing bullshit, acting as if they were the victims. Acting as if they deserved his time, his emotions, his fucking pity. They had no idea. They never took responsibility. Instead, they pointed fingers at him, as if it was his fault that everything turned out this way.

But it wasn’t.

It was theirs.

He was already done with this conversation. Done with this entire visit. He needed to get out of here.

With you.

The lunch dragged on longer than Jungkook would have liked. His parents kept the conversation going, moving from small talk to stories about their old business. Their grand rise and inevitable failure. They spoke as if reminiscing about something tragic, but all Jungkook heard was noise.

He barely touched his food, his jaw tightening every time they brought up the past. He masked his irritation well, but the tension in his grip against his chopsticks was telling. He just wanted to leave.

This was exactly why he never wanted to come here. Why he never wanted you to meet them. They talked too much. About things that didn’t matter. About things he never wanted you to hear.

And now, he could already tell. You had questions. You always did when something didn’t add up. And right now, after everything his parents had carelessly spilled, your mind must be full of them.

Of course, you didn’t ask in front of them. You wouldn’t. But he knew you too well.

And he was right.

Because the moment the car was back on the road, heading toward Seoul, your voice broke the silence.

“Your parents are nice.” Your voice was light, but Jungkook could hear the underlying curiosity.

“Uh-huh.” His response was flat, laced with sarcasm.

“They even wanted us to stay. They’re really accommodating, Kook.”

He saw you glance at him from the corner of his eye, but he kept his gaze locked on the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

“I have a meeting first thing in the morning.”

Without warning, he overtook the car in front of him, the sudden movement making you flinch.

“Sorry, love.” His voice softened, one hand briefly leaving the wheel to rest on your thigh. A gentle caress.

He had spent all his patience back at that house. The last thing he wanted was to talk about his parents again.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother.” Your tone was casual, but there was something beneath it. An unspoken challenge. “It sucks that I only found out now. I just realized… I barely know anything about your past.” You sighed. “I feel bad.”

“That’s why I brought you home to meet them,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound as sarcastic as it felt.

You studied him for a moment, like you were trying to read him. He gave you a small smile, his hand still resting on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles. A distraction. A way to keep you comfortable.

Then, you caught him off guard.

“Kook, why didn’t you invest in your parents’ business?”

His grip on the wheel tightened. He didn’t expect that.

You continued before he could answer. “You’re a big-time investor, right? It would help them a lot.”

“It’s not worth investing in. It’s already a failed business.” His tone was neutral, controlled.

“But they loved that business. Losing it broke them. Isn’t there any chance of bringing it back?”

“No.” His voice was sharp, final. “If there was, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

That was a lie. Even if their business was worth saving, he still wouldn’t do it. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve anything from him.

You looked at him again, hesitant, like you wanted to push further. To unravel the parts of him he kept hidden. But then, you seemed to realize he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.

So you stayed quiet.

Good.

As much as he wanted to tell you everything, how his parents ruined his life, how they ripped him away from you, he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk you looking at him differently.

He’d rather keep you in the dark than let you see the parts of him he didn’t want you to understand.

—

It’s been a week since you and Jungkook visited his parents. And two weeks since you lost your job.

You haven’t told him about it. You haven’t asked about going home either. Not once. And it’s better that way. If you did, he already had an answer prepared, but he preferred that you didn’t ask at all.

You’ve become more obedient, following his lead without hesitation. You don’t ask for anything anymore. You don’t make requests. You just… comply.

It should make him happy. He decides what’s best for you, after all. But he doesn’t want you to turn into a lifeless doll, either. You should still function like a normal girlfriend and hold onto him like you need him.

And you do need him.

Jungkook wants to give you everything, especially now that you’re finally settling into his rhythm. He wonders if you realize how much he adores you like this. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you think this is just another day, another morning, another moment.

But to him, it’s everything.

You’re sleeping beside him, curled up and peaceful, completely unaware of his gaze lingering on you. His love for you grows stronger every day, so intense it nearly overwhelms him. It consumes him.

He rests his head on his arm, watching you, memorizing the way your lashes flutter faintly with every slow breath. His free hand moves on its own, fingers ghosting over your cheek.

His heart pounds in his ears.

The back of his fingers trail down to your lips, tracing the soft curve of them. You don’t even stir. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

Then, his fingers drift lower, down your arm, feeling the warmth of your skin. So soft. So delicate. His.

He could feel a familiar sensation growing between his legs as he touched your soft skin. He tried to ignore it but failed. The more he touched you, the more he thought about how much he wanted to be with you. He couldn't stop imagining all the ways he wanted to touch you, to be inside you. He felt his self-control slipping away as he placed his thumb finger on your lower lip, imagining how it would feel wrapped around him.

He couldn't help but look at your body, the outline of your breasts visible through your flimsy pajamas.

He have touched you several times but the sensation and feeling of your body was so intoxicating and addicting he couldn't get enough.

Fuck, Y/N.

He can barely keep himself from losing control. He desperately wants to bend you over and taste your lips but he knows that's not what he's supposed to do, so instead he slowly pulled his dick out and began to slowly stroke it while you sleep beside him, teasing himself.

He can’t help it but want to press you against the bed, taking in and enjoying every curve of your body, but he knows he can’t do that. Not now. He takes your hand softly in his, holding it warmly. His other hand slowly teases his dick, imagining how you’d feel under him, as he stares directly at your pretty face, his thoughts filled with nothing but how desperately he wants you, yet he holds himself back.

Damn it, love.

He gripped himself tightly, his dick throbbing and leaking a small amount of cum that he eagerly spread over himself, slicking his movements as he pumped it harder and harder, his eyes locked onto your peaceful sleeping face, silently begging for you to wake.

His hands, despite his best efforts to keep them still, began to roam down your body, splaying out over your stomach and slowly inching lower until his fingers splayed out over your pussy through the thin fabric of your sleepwear.

He wanted you to wake up as his body already halfway there even without your touch. He hoped your eyes would flutter open and catch him like this, his pants tented, his hips subtly humping the air, his hands twitching with the urge to grope your body again unconsciously.

"Fuck..." he hissed under his breath, losing control as his hand moved faster over his length, the wet sounds filling the room.

"Love..." he moaned your nickname, imagining it was your hand, your mouth, your heat around him rather than his own hands.

The soft, sensual moan that escaped your lips in your sleep sent electric jolts through him, making his grip on his dick tighten as he continued to stroke himself feverishly. He scooted closer, his fingers teasing your pussy through your clothes, rubbing slow circles over it.

His breath hitched as he felt the dampness seeping through your thin pajama bottoms, signaling your body's unconscious response to his touches. He gently slipped his hand inside, finding your folds slick and warm, a soft whimper escaping his lips at the contact.

As your eyes flutter open, you catch the erotic sight before you. Jungkook was furiously pumping his dick, clear fluid leaking steadily from the tip. The wet, obscene sounds of his strokes filled the air.

“K-kook, what are you doing?” Your voice was low and husky and your arousal was obvious, making him lose control faster.

Without warning, he covered your body with his, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, dominating it as his body pressed you into the mattress. His weight pushed your smaller frame down, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly.

He humped against your center like a wild animal, marking your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses and sucking hickeys onto your jaw. His lips traveled down your chin, your jawline, your neck, leaving red, passionate marks. He was practically dry humping you, his control shot.

"Love..." He growled softly, hearing your shaky voice. Your arousal made him hungry. He yanked your shirt off, his mouth latching onto your breast without warning. You threw your head back with a loud moan as he sucked hard, his other hand pinching and rolling your nipple.

He could feel your softness against his tongue, the way you filled his mouth perfectly. He sucked harder, his hand squeezing your other breast possessively.

He kissed lower, trailing his lips down your stomach, his hands pulling your pajama bottoms down slowly. He peppered kisses on your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your lower belly. "Lift your hips, Y/N..." He whispered, his voice muffled against your skin.

He spread your thighs wider, diving between them. He flattened his tongue against your entrance, licking upwards to catch your wetness. "Damn," He muttered, watching you toss your head back. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly while pushing two fingers inside you.

God, you’re so fucking beautiful.

He watches you play with your breasts. Your fingers twisting your hard peaks made him harder. He pushed his fingers deeper, his mouth suctioning around your clit. Your moans grew louder, your back arching off the bed. His free hand spread your thighs wider apart.

Your nails dug deeper into the bed as you neared the edge. He suddenly pulled back, leaving you empty and disappointed. Before you could protest, he pulled his pants down and pressed the tip of his hard dick against your clit. His head rested on top of you, grinding his tip against you.

"K-kook… please?" He smirked wickedly, watching you throw your head back. He ground his tip against your sensitive nub, teasing you.

He paused his tease and grabbed your face, staring harshly into your eyes. "Remember this...you're mine." He grumbled, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was desperate and hungry, his tongue dominating yours immediately. He pushed his tip inside you slowly before thrusting hard. “Do you understand that?”

"Do you understand?!” He growled, his deep voice echoing. He thrusts his hips harder, watching your breasts bounce. He repeated himself slower, "Answer the damn question." His fingers dug into your hips painfully. "Use your words,"

"Yes!” You answered with a tear in your eyes as his movement became faster.

"Fuck, Y/N," he panted against your lips, his body shaking when both of you reach orgasm. He remained buried deep inside you, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're mine. Only. Mine." He enunciated each word slowly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

—

You’re such a good girl. So obedient. So perfect for him.

Jungkook always knew you’d get there eventually. You’re adjusting—slowly, but that’s okay. He can be patient. He understands that change takes time.

But he’s not blind. He sees how quiet you’ve become, how your laughter has faded into silence. You talk less, do less. Even when he offers to take you out, most of the time, your refuse. You spend most of your time curled up in bed, staring at your phone or watching TV, lost in some world that isn’t his.

That’s fine. You’ll come around.

He tells himself it’s just part of the process. Your adjustment period. You’re still settling into your new reality, learning to accept that this is your home now.

But even if he understands, that doesn’t mean he likes it.

He misses the way you used to be. The spark in your eyes, the way you used to tease him, the way you’d reach for him without thinking. That version of you is slipping away, fading like a dream upon waking.

Does he regret this? Is he having second thoughts?

Never.

This is only temporary. He knows that if he wavers now, if he lets himself get soft, he’ll never have what he truly wants.

So he won’t.

Instead, he’ll remind you.

He’ll give you all the attention you need, fill every empty space in your mind until there’s no room left for doubt.

“Lately, you’ve been watching a lot of baking videos,” Jungkook muses, his voice casual. It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, and he got home earlier than usual. You’re curled up on the couch, a snack in hand, eyes fixed on the TV.

He moves closer, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before catching your lips. He feels you relax beneath him, just slightly.

“Nothing really to watch,” you reply, brushing it off.

Jungkook settles beside you, his gaze never leaving you as he reaches for a snack. His fingers trail absentmindedly along your thigh, slow and deliberate.

“I was thinking,” he starts, his tone light, “maybe you’d like to take baking lessons? Learn how to do it yourself.”

“That’s not necessary, Kook,” you say with a small laugh. “I just find it entertaining, that’s all.”

He hums, rubbing slow circles into your skin. “Then do you want to do something? Yoga classes, maybe?”

Silence.

You hold his gaze, but there’s something in your expression that makes his stomach tighten. You hesitate, as if weighing whether to say what’s really on your mind. And suddenly, he regrets even asking.

He should change the subject. He should pull you back into something softer, safer. But before he can, you speak.

“Well, if you have something in—”

“When are we going home?”

His whole body stills.

For a second, he doesn’t move. The words settle between you, heavy and suffocating. He exhales, slow and measured, before finally standing.

“I’m not sure yet,” he says, already walking toward the dining hall. “I told you, I have a lot to handle, love. I’ll let you know when.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He turns on his heel, heading toward the dining hall. He pulls the refrigerator open as he grabs a bottle of water, twisting the cap off before pouring himself a glass. The sound of liquid hitting glass fills the silence.

He knows you're there before he even turns around.

Your presence lingers, hesitant but heavy. He takes his time, swallowing the water then he finally turns to face you.

“I miss home, Kook.”

Home. That fucking word again.

Ever since you started mentioning home, Jungkook has felt a slow, burning irritation clawing at him. The word itself is harmless, but coming from your lips, it feels like a blade. You and he have different definitions of home, and every time you say it, it grates against his nerves.

“We’ve been here for three months already, and I really, really miss home.” Your voice wavers, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and it makes his irritation flare hotter.

“Aren’t we living in the same home either way?” His voice drips with sarcasm, his patience thinning.

“That’s not what I mean. I miss my family, my friends, my country—”

“And you don’t think I feel that too?” He cuts you off, his tone sharper now.

The glass in his hand meets the kitchen island with a dull thud, his fingers tightening around the rim before he releases it. His gaze, dark and unreadable, locks onto yours.

“Do you think I don’t want to go back?” He exhales harshly. “I planned to stay here for a vacation. But I had to handle so many things because, for what? To fucking build the life I want for us!” His voice rises, his frustration cracking through the surface. “I’m not doing this for myself, Y/N. I’m doing this to secure our future.”

Tears finally spill down your cheeks as you look at him, and something about it. The way you’re crying, the way you’re making him feel like the villain making his jaw tighten.

“Tell me,” he steps forward, closing the distance between you, his presence towering over you, “do you really think I’m keeping you here just because I want to?” His voice dips lower, but the intensity in his stare is suffocating.

You shake your head quickly. “Kook, that’s not what I meant!” Your fingers tighten around his, desperate, pleading. “Of course, I appreciate you! I’m sorry if that’s how it sounded, but that’s not what I meant—”

You keep talking, rushing to defend yourself, but Jungkook isn’t listening anymore.

His mind is elsewhere.

Your words dissolve into the background as something deeper stirs inside him. He watches your lips move, watches the way you hold onto him like you’re afraid of slipping away.

Before you can finish, he pulls his hands away, wiping his own tears like he’s trying to erase the moment entirely.

Then he steps back.

“I think we should give ourselves some space.” His voice is quieter now, but distant, detached. He turns, ready to walk away.

But before he can take another step, you do something that surprises him.

“Jungkook, no!”

Before he can take another step, your arms are around his waist, locking him in place. Your grip is desperate, too tight, too frantic, like you're afraid he'll vanish the second you let go.

“N-no… please, let’s talk about this now! Please don’t leave me again.”

The way your voice breaks sends a thrill through him. You’re crying—really crying—and he didn’t expect it. Not like this.

“Please don’t leave me again! Let’s talk about this now. P-please don’t leave me alone.”

Your hands clutch at his back, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt like you're trying to anchor yourself. When you pull back to look at him, your face is soaked, lips trembling, eyes blown wide with fear. Fear.

His heart pounds so hard it’s almost painful. A rush of something hot, something intoxicating, swirls inside him. You need him.

You really need him.

“W-we can talk about this now. Just please, don’t leave me alone.”

You bury yourself into him again, squeezing so tightly he almost forgets to breathe.

Jungkook stands frozen, overwhelmed by the moment, his pulse hammering in his ears. His breath comes out unsteady as his lips curl into a slow, hidden smile. He wants to laugh. Fuck, he wants to celebrate.

Because this. This is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You’re clinging to him. Begging. Terrified at the thought of losing him.

You get it now, don’t you?

After a long pause, he finally moves. His hands glide up your back, soothing, reassuring. He exhales softly, letting just enough warmth seep into his voice.

“Okay, love. We’ll fix this.”

He’s too happy. A little too happy.

Your reaction, it was unexpected, raw, perfect. The way you clung to him, the way your voice cracked, the way you begged, fuck, it’s all replaying in his head like a song on repeat. It was beautiful. You need him just as much as he needs you. You just proved it.

And that means one thing: You’ll never leave. Not really.

You might resist, you might hesitate, but in the end, you break exactly how he wants you to. He doesn’t just control you, your whole existence is wrapped around him now, woven into his life so tightly there’s no escape.

But then, why?

Why did you suddenly bring up home? Why now, after all this time?

His jaw tightens. Something triggered you. Something. Or someone.

He doesn’t need to guess. He already knows.

It’s past 2 AM when he finally moves. The room is quiet, bathed in the soft blue glow of the nightlight. You're asleep, curled up in the king-sized bed, your breathing slow, steady and peaceful. Completely unaware.

Jungkook reaches for your phone on the bedside table, unlocking it effortlessly with his Face ID. He leans back on the couch, screen illuminating his face, and scrolls straight to your messages.

He knows exactly where to look.

And of course, he was right.

His smirk is slow, dangerous, curling at the edges as he reads.

You: I miss you too! I’ll see you soon once I return.

Mina: As you should. I’m so sick of being with Henry all the time! When are you even coming home? You’ve been there since forever.

Chloe: Yeah, Y/N. I thought you’d only be there for a vacation? You never said you’d stay this long.

You: Not sure with Jungkook. He has a lot of business to do as of now.

Henry: Are you even part of his business? Last time I checked, you and he were there for a vacation, not for business. Seriously, Y/N, he’s caging you at this point.

His smirk twitches.

And then, there it is. A missed video call, two fucking hours.

Yesterday. While he was too busy working to notice.

His fingers tighten around the phone. Of course. They filled your head with bullshit.

How stupid of him to let this slip.

It won’t happen again.

He locks the phone and sets it back on the table, gaze flickering toward you. You’re still fast asleep, unaware that your little secret is no longer a secret.

Jungkook leans back, exhaling through his nose, his mind already working.

He’ll fix this.

He always does.

Jungkook doesn’t waste time.

The moment he discovers what your so-called friends have been whispering in your ear, he takes action.

First thing in the morning, before you even stir awake, he makes a call. The kind of call that isn’t exactly legal. By noon, he’s holding a sleek, black signal jammer in his hands, fresh from the black market. Compact, powerful, and silent.

He won’t resort to something as obvious as taking your phone away. That’s not the game he plays. No, no, no. He wants you to believe you’re still in control. That your world isn’t shrinking. That nothing’s changed.

Because that’s the key, you can’t miss what you don’t realize you’ve lost.

He positions the device in a discreet spot, its range wide enough to swallow every signal in the apartment. But, of course, he’s thought ahead. He installs a high-power signal booster for himself because while your world goes dark, his remains crystal clear. He still needs to monitor things. Track things. Track you.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice. The way your fingers swipe at your screen again and again, waiting for something to load. The way your brows knit together when nothing does. The way you glance around, confused, frustrated.

He sees it all.

Your world is already shrinking, and you don’t even realize it yet.

Jungkook leans back in his chair, a slow smirk forming.

“Weak signals happen sometimes, love. It’ll come back. Don’t worry.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling you onto the couch, wrapping you in his arms as the TV played in the background. What else could you do, really? Without a working connection, entertainment options were limited, and he had to pretend he was dealing with the same issue. TV was the perfect distraction. One that kept you close to him.

In a way, he liked this. No phones, no interruptions. Just the two of you, undisturbed. The thought alone made his heart flutter.

The next day, the situation hadn’t changed, and he knew frustration would start creeping in again. So he took you out. All day, keeping you occupied, keeping your mind off things. You didn’t resist. Why would you? There was nothing to do in the apartment without the internet, no one to talk to, nowhere else to turn.

A museum date. He half-expected you to get bored, but to his surprise, you didn’t. You wandered through the exhibits with wide, fascinated eyes, taking in every detail, pointing out the ones you liked best. Jungkook watched you more than the art. Watched the way your lips curved in a smile, the way your fingers traced the air as you spoke. You weren’t hard to please. Anything he laid out in front of you, you embraced, appreciated, accepted.

That was what made it so easy to love you.

And that was what made him tighten his grip.

Because something so easy, so pure, could be taken away in an instant.

He wouldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever. You were already his, and keeping you meant protecting you. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.

For the third, fourth, and fifth day, nothing changed. The signal jammer stayed on, and you stayed unaware. He kept you entertained when he was home, making sure there was always something to distract you. Movies, dinner, his arms wrapped around you on the couch. But when he wasn’t around, all you had was the TV.

That was fine. That was good.

Whenever he was out, he tracked your location. He never mentioned it, of course. He played dumb when you casually told him where you went, what you did to pass the time. It made things easier. It reassured him. You were still being good, still keeping him in the loop, still showing him without even realizing it that you loved him. That you weren’t going anywhere.

And that was all he needed.

Because as long as you kept being this obedient, this trusting, you wouldn’t even notice the strings wrapped around you, pulling you exactly where he wanted.

But of course, no matter how much control he had, some things still slipped through the cracks.

He thought he had everything covered. That as long as you stayed close, as long as you kept looking at him the way you always did, nothing would change.

But even the most perfect plans had flaws.

It was a cold Thursday evening when Jungkook stepped out of the shower, steam curling around him as droplets clung to his skin. A towel hung low on his waist, and the heat from the water still lingered on his body, contrasting the chill in the air. He had just returned from a long business meeting. Another deal closed, another win under his belt. You were in the kitchen, insisting on making dinner, and he let you.

As he pulled on his nightwear in the walk-in closet, he instinctively reached for his phone. But his fingers met empty space. His usual spot? Empty. Bedside table? Nothing. Maybe he left it outside? That was unlikely. His phone was always with him.

The frustration simmered. His brows furrowed as he searched every possible surface in the bedroom. It wasn’t there. His chest tightened. And then—

A ringtone.

Not from inside the room. From outside.

His breath caught. His phone wasn’t on silent. You were hearing it.

A sharp pulse of panic shot through him as he shoved the bedroom door open. The sound grew louder, the vibrations almost rattling in his ears, until he saw you.

Standing at the dining table.

Staring at his phone.

A cold sensation crawled up his spine, harsher than the evening air. His fingers twitched. His heart pounded, slamming against his ribs, too fast, too loud.

Without thinking, he strode forward and snatched the phone off the table, immediately declining the call. His grip was tight, white-knuckled. He could feel your eyes on him, could see the way your expression shifted, shock, realization, suspicion.

Then, you moved.

You pulled your phone from your pocket, swiped through the screen, and then your jaw clenched.

Slowly, you looked at him.

Brows furrowed.

And then, without a word, you turned your phone around and showed him the screen.

“How come you can get calls when I can’t even reach you?” Your voice had that sharp edge, like you were daring him to slip up.

Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened for a second. Just a second before he let out a slow breath. One you wouldn’t even notice.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, meeting your gaze without hesitation. “I’ve had signal since yesterday.”

Your brows furrowed. “What? That doesn’t make sense. I don’t have network service. No internet, either.” You scrolled through your phone, frustration seeping into your voice.

“Maybe it’s your phone. Not the network.”

“Huh? How does that even—”

“I don’t know, love. I’m not a technician.” His tone was casual, a little too nonchalant, as he turned to walk away.

But you weren’t letting it go.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice was sharper now, accusing. “You knew I’ve been complaining about this for days!”

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening, but his voice was still even. “I didn’t notice right away. And I’ve been out, haven’t I? Besides—” He scoffed. “Do you even see me using my phone when I’m home?”

Your frustration boiled over. “Ugh, this is so annoying! What the hell?” You jabbed at your phone aggressively, like pressing harder would somehow force it to work. When it didn’t, you let out a groan, tossing it onto the table with a thud before running a hand through your hair.

Jungkook clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the irritation crawling up his spine. “Y/N, can you calm down? It’s just a phone. We’ll fix it.”

“You don’t get it!” You snapped.

Your voice cracked slightly, your chest rising and falling with every frustrated breath. “That’s my only way to keep in touch with my friends and family while I’m stuck here! It’s the only thing I have to pass the time! I have nothing to do, Jungkook. It’s draining! I feel exhausted just… existing like this!”

His stomach twisted.

Not because of what you said, but because of the way you said it. This was the first time he’d seen you this raw since your last big fight. It was like catching a glimpse of something real. Something he wasn’t supposed to see.

And honestly? He didn’t know how to feel about it.

His fingers curled, nails pressing into his palms, but his face remained unreadable.

“Okay,” he finally muttered. “We’ll get your phone fixed.”

That was all he said before turning on his heel, walking away, leaving you standing there, stunned.

The moment Jungkook stepped into the bedroom, he lost it.

His phone hit the bed with a dull thud, but it wasn’t enough. His hands went straight to his hair, fingers tangling in frustration as he paced back and forth, his mind spiraling.

Anytime now, you could put the pieces together.

Anytime now, you could realize everything.

No. No. No. That cannot fucking happen.

His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, teeth grinding as he tried to force himself to think. He needed a solution. Fast. But every scenario felt like a loose thread, something that could unravel the carefully built illusion he had created around you.

His breath came out sharp and ragged, his chest rising and falling as panic crawled up his spine. His hands curled into fists, nails pressing into his palms.

Calm down. Think.

Would replacing your phone be enough? Could he make it seem like it was just a defective device all along? Should he play dumb, act as if he had no clue what was going on?

Fuck. Think!

He’d always been careful. Always one step ahead. So why was he unraveling now?

Why did this feel different?

He sucked in a slow, shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He was just being paranoid. That’s all this was. He had handled worse. He had controlled worse.

This was just another obstacle.

And like always, he’d find a way to make sure you stayed exactly where you belonged.

But he was wrong.

Because the moment he woke up, you weren’t beside him.

It felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over him, freezing him in place. His body tensed, fingers gripping the sheets as he blinked, trying to process the empty space next to him.

No. No, no, no.

He had stayed up late, trying to think of a way to fix things. He didn’t even realize he had slept in. And now, you were gone.

His hands were already shaking as he pushed himself out of bed, his heart pounding.

“Y/N?”

The bathroom, empty. The closet, empty. The longer he searched, the faster his panic grew.

He stormed out of the bedroom, checking every corner of the apartment, but you were nowhere to be found. His breathing turned ragged, his vision tunneling. His fingers fumbled as he reached for his phone, opening the tracking app.

There you were. Not far.

A mall.

Fuck.

His jaw clenched so hard it ached. He already knew what you were doing.

His mind raced, self-loathing creeping in. How the fuck did I let this happen? He had been so careful. He had planned everything so perfectly. And yet, somehow, you slipped away.

His grip tightened around his phone as he immediately dialed a number. The person he hired to watch you.

“Find her,” Jungkook ordered, his voice dangerously low. “Now. And tell me exactly what she’s doing.”

Ending the call, he exhaled sharply and let his body drop onto the couch, his knee bouncing as he tried to steady himself.

Calm down.

He had dealt with things like this before. He knew exactly what to do. You were easy to convince, easy to pull back into his world. You always had been.

There was no reason to panic.

Because no matter what, he wouldn’t let this ruin everything.

He had come too far, done too much. What was the point of stopping now?

Minutes later, his phone buzzed. An update.

You had bought a new phone.

Of course, you did. He expected it. He had already planned his reaction, the perfect lie to feed you. He knew how to twist things, how to shape reality into something that made sense to you.

He was ready.

This was just another obstacle, a minor inconvenience. Soon, everything would be back to normal.

Or at least, that was the illusion he forced himself to believe.

Because the moment you walked through that door, his world shattered.

All the confidence, all the carefully built lies, gone.

The second you speak the truth, everything he worked for started to crumble.

You stood in front of him, unmoving, while he lounged back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. The apartment felt colder than usual, the lack of sunlight casting a dull, gray shadow over everything, including you.

You looked drained.

Dressed in a white knitted sweater under a long black coat, paired with jeans, you slowly unwrapped the scarf from your neck, gripping it tightly in one hand while your other held a paper bag.

He already knew what was inside.

The new phone.

Your eyes locked onto his, unblinking, unwavering. There was an intensity in them that made something deep inside him churn, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he was the first to break the silence.

“Was it really that hard to wake me up and let me know you were going out?” His voice was laced with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You just couldn’t wait to get your phone fixed, huh? Had to rush out and buy a new one?”

He scoffed, shaking his head.

You didn’t answer.

You just stood there, staring at him with eyes filled with something far worse than anger. Disgust. Your jaw clenched so tightly he swore he could hear your teeth grinding, and then he saw it.

A tear.

His smirk twitched, faltering for just a second.

“What’s with the face, love?” he drawled, tilting his head. “I thought you fixed your little problem?”

His voice dripped with mockery, but something inside him twisted, because he could feel it.

Your tears fell silently at first, but then you inhaled sharply, steadying yourself before speaking.

“My phone was jammed,” you said, voice shaking. “Both my phone and the internet connection were jammed.”

Jungkook felt a flicker of something. Surprise, irritation, but he masked it, tilting his head as if your words were nonsense.

“How would your phone be jammed?” His tone was casual, almost amused, like he was humoring you.

You let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know. Ask yourself.”

The sharpness in your voice sent a ripple of irritation through him.

“How the fuck is my phone jammed while yours isn’t?” You took a step closer, eyes burning with fury. “Does that make any sense to you? Both my laptop and my phone had no signal the entire fucking week, while you were just fine.”

His jaw tightened.

That bastard. The man he hired had left out important details. He hadn’t reported that you had your phone checked.

Fucking useless.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He scoffed, forcing his voice into something more natural. “I didn’t have service either. You know that. We were both—”

“No!”

The single word sliced through the room, loud and unwavering. It caught him off guard.

“I checked your phone this morning,” you continued, voice shaking with restrained rage. “I checked your laptop, too. And both of them had WiFi.”

His fingers twitched. His mind raced.

“Then that’s not my problem anymore—”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, slow and deliberate.

Jungkook felt a chill run down his spine.

“Or…” You took another step forward, your eyes locking onto his like you were staring into something dark and rotten. “Is this just what you wanted me to believe?”

Jungkook didn’t say a word at first. He just watched you, his gaze unwavering, calculating.

He couldn’t afford to make a mistake now.

“I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this.” His voice was measured, carefully laced with disbelief, like he was hurt. “Why would I even do that?”

Then, quieter, like he was nursing a wound only he could feel. “Why do you always blame me when things go wrong for you? Even when it’s your own fault?”

You scoffed, tilting your chin up defiantly. “And how exactly is it my fault that my phone was jammed? That’s not something I could have done to myself, intentionally or unintentionally!”

“No, Y/N.” His voice hardened. “I’m not just talking about the jammer. I’m talking about everything, all the accusations, all the times you’ve turned on me, made me the villain in your little stories.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you even bringing all that up? We’re talking about the jammer—”

“Because that’s the problem!” His voice rose suddenly, sharp and unwavering. “You always blame me. The moment something inconvenient happens, it’s Jungkook’s fault. Like it’s second nature to you.”

He took a step forward, but you stood your ground. Your eyes locked onto his, unflinching, before you exhaled and turned to leave.

Panic flashed in his chest.

No.

In an instant, he was behind you, gripping your wrist, firm, but not enough to bruise.

“Are you seriously walking away right now?” His voice was dangerously low, breath uneven. “We’re still talking.”

You yanked your hand free without hesitation. “There’s nothing left to say. This isn’t going anywhere.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

His fingers twitched at his sides, the rage bubbling beneath his skin.

“What?” His voice was strained, barely holding back his temper. “You accuse me of this bullshit, throw it in my face, and then just walk away?”

You took another step toward the door of the bedroom, but this time, you hesitated. Then, slowly, you turned back to face him.

Your expression was unreadable. Empty.

“Yes,” you said, voice hollow. “Because you’ll never admit it. You’ll just twist everything, turn it all around, like you always do.”

Jungkook felt his stomach twist at the way you were looking at him. It was like you were seeing him now, really seeing him.

And then, without another word, you turned your back on him and walked away.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook didn’t know what to do.

Jungkook felt like his mind was slipping. Too many thoughts, too many emotions crashing over him at once. He couldn’t process what just happened. He needed clarity, needed to understand you. Because suddenly, he couldn't read you anymore.

He hated that.

He stormed into the bedroom without hesitation.

“Why are you doing this to me, huh?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tense air the moment he stepped inside. “Is this your way of getting back at me? Because I didn’t let you go home when that’s all you’ve been crying about for months? Is that it, Y/N?”

You turned to face him, brows furrowing. “What are you talking about? I never said that!”

“Oh, so you don’t say it, but you show it instead?” His heartbeat pounded against his ribs, his breathing growing heavier. “You think I like watching you change? Seeing you drift further away when all I wanted was for you to wait? You think I enjoy having you next to me when I can tell your mind is somewhere else? That you’re just enduring being with me?” The words poured out of him, unfiltered, his voice trembling with something raw.

“I’m not pulling any act, Jungkook. That’s all in your head.” Your tone was flat, detached.

That only set him off more.

“Oh, fuck it, Y/N! Just tell me the truth—”

“No, you tell me the truth!” You cut him off, voice ringing through the room. “Tell me why you jammed my phone! Tell me why you’re tracking me!”

Jungkook froze. His breath caught in his throat.

His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing, but he said nothing.

You took a step closer, pointing at him with a shaking finger. “You think I didn’t know? There’s a tracking chip inside my phone. And what? You’re going to sit there and twist it around again? Pretend it’s my fault that a tracker magically ended up in my phone? Just like how you jammed my signal?”

Your voice was sharp, relentless.

Jungkook didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just stood there, staring at you. Eyes dark, jaw clenched, mind racing.

Jungkook watched you with hollow eyes, his mind spiraling as your words cut through him like a blade.

Enough.

You’d had enough of him.

He should’ve seen this coming. The way you looked at him differently, the way you hesitated before answering, the way you started pulling away, piece by piece. But knowing didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“I ignored all the red flags,” you said, voice shaking, tears slipping down your cheeks, but you didn’t wipe them away. “I kept telling myself you were doing it because you loved me. I swallowed every truth right in front of me, thinking it was for my sake. But everyone was right.”

Your lips quivered as you exhaled shakily.

“You’ve been manipulating me. You’ve been making me blind to everything you’ve done.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled into his palms, his nails digging into his skin.

His jaw clenched. His breathing slowed.

“And you know what?” You let out a bitter laugh, eyes glassy. “You are right. This is my fault. Because I let you do it. I let all of this happen.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going, pushing the knife in deeper. “I loved you. I fell so fucking deep that I couldn’t even pull myself back up.”

That’s when he noticed—

You were packing.

You weren’t just throwing words at him, trying to wound him.

You were leaving.

You grabbed your phone, your wallet, a small pouch, only the essentials. Because you weren’t planning to come back.

The thought made his vision blur with rage.

Something inside him snapped.

His breathing turned eerily calm. The thick mask he had been wearing, the patient, loving, understanding Jungkook you thought you knew, shattered in an instant.

"You think you can just leave like that?"

His voice was soft, almost tender. But it sent ice down your spine.

You froze, fingers gripping your bag. When your gaze met his, your whole body tensed.

He took a slow step forward. Then another. But he stopped midway, slipping his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

"After everything I’ve done for us—" his lips curled into something twisted, "you think I’m going to let you walk away that easily?"

He let out a quiet chuckle. Low. Cold.

Your breath hitched.

And then he saw it—

The way your eyes darted to the door. The way you shifted ever so slightly, like you were ready to bolt.

He tilted his head, gaze darkening.

"Why are you stepping back?" His voice dropped even lower. "Are you scared?"

You didn’t answer.

His smirk widened, his steps slow and deliberate as he closed in on you.

He backed you into the wall, trapping you in place.

"Because you should be."

Jungkook's grip on reality was slipping, but he didn’t care.

He loved you.

Loved you so much that if keeping you meant becoming the villain in your story, then so be it. If he had to be the bad guy to make you stay, he’d do it without hesitation.

His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Is this what your friends planted in your head?” His voice was calm, too calm. Each word rolled off his tongue deliberately, like he was savoring them. “They’ll say anything, won’t they? Whisper the nastiest things to break us apart because they don’t understand. They don’t matter in this relationship.”

He took a slow step backward.

"That’s why I didn’t want you around them in the first place.” His tone was gentle, almost affectionate, but the weight of his words was suffocating. “The more time you spend with them, the more they poison your thoughts. Filling that pretty little head of yours with lies.”

Jungkook sighed, shaking his head like he was disappointed.

“But you just had to be stubborn. Kept pushing my buttons. And now look where we are.”

His gaze flickered down to your parted lips, to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed hard. He move closer to you once again and leaned in just enough to catch the way your pupils dilated.

His smirk widened.

“So yes,” he whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is your fault.”

You flinched.

He saw the way your body trembled, the way your fingers curled into your palms like you were trying to steady yourself. But what made him really grin, what sent a shiver of satisfaction down his spine, was the quick, fleeting glance you threw at the door.

You were considering running.

How cute.

A quiet chuckle left his lips as he watched you inch back, your breathing shallow, your mind scrambling for an escape.

Too bad.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching you with something between amusement and disbelief.

“I can’t believe you’re still thinking of leaving when you have nowhere else to go.” His voice was light, almost teasing, as if the idea of you escaping was a joke.

Then, without warning, he ripped the phone from your hand and tossed it across the room. The sharp crack echoed as it shattered against the floor.

Your breath hitched. “Jungkook, please. You’re scaring me.”

But he wasn’t listening.

He grabbed your laptop from the coffee table, eyes dark with something unhinged, and in one swift motion, hurled it against the wall. The device split in two on impact.

You screamed.

Your breath hitched as you stared at the shattered remnants of your phone and laptop. The metallic clatter of destruction echoed in the room, but it was the eerie silence that followed that made your blood run cold. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The only sound was the erratic pounding of your heart.

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with a satisfaction that made your stomach twist.

It was done.

There was no turning back now.

His fingers twitched at his sides before he took a step forward, closing the distance between you two. You flinched, instinctively stepping back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need them anymore,” Jungkook murmured, voice dangerously soft. “I’m all you need.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “Y-you… you didn’t have to do that.”

He tilted his head, watching you, drinking in your helplessness like it was a drug. “I did,” he said simply as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Now, there’s nothing left to come between us.”

You wanted to scream, to fight, but the weight of his words pressed down on you like an immovable force. There was no way out. No reaching for help. He had stripped you of everything, piece by piece until all that remained was him.

Jungkook reached out, his fingers grazing your cheek, a mockery of affection in the way he cradled your face. “You’re mine,” he whispered, the words sinking deep into your skin, your bones. His grip tightened just enough to make your breath hitch. “Say it.”

You trembled, lips parting, but no words came. A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes before he crushed his mouth against yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was raw and possessive, his lips crashing against yours with bruising force. You struggled, hands pushing against his chest, but he was stronger.

“J-Jungkook, no—”

“You’re mine, Y/N.” His breath was hot against your lips, his grip unrelenting. “You’re fucking mine, and no one will ever have you but me.”

His mouth trailed down to your neck, teeth grazing over your skin before he sucked harshly, marking you like a brand.

You fought. You squirmed. But he didn’t care.

Because in that moment, the last of his carefully crafted mask shattered.

This was him. The real him.

And now, you finally saw it.

You had seen glimpses before, but you ignored them, forced yourself to believe they were nothing. That he was nothing more than a man who loved too much.

You were wrong.

You had unknowingly created a monster. A monster that could no longer be controlled.

And now, it was too late.

Because every path that once led to freedom was gone, every exit sealed shut.

And you were trapped.

Trapped in the darkness with him.

As he pulled away, he wiped a stray tear from your face, his smile almost gentle. “That’s my good girl.”

The finality in his voice made your stomach drop. There was no escaping him.

Not now. Not ever.

-end-

I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it! This was supposed to be a one-shot, but when I started writing, it turned into a two-shot lmao. And just when I was about to finish it, I thought about making it a three-shot, but then I realized it wasn't really necessary hahaha

If you have any comments or suggestions to help improve my writing, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thank you!

taglist: @llallaaa @strawberryberrygirl @taekritimin123 @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @jincapableoflove @jenniebyrubies @sunshineishopejihyo @kooayu

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nobodyfamousposts · 1 month ago

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Scarlet Lady Top 10 Favorite Characters: Number 8

@zoe-oneesama

Number 9 Here

...

Number 8: Nino

Oh Nino, Nino. Canon did you so poorly.

I can’t even preface this with a compare/contrast between how he is in Canon vs how he is in the comic. There’s nothing to compare. Nino in Scarlet Lady is vastly superior.

1. He makes me smile whenever he appears

Yes, I know this reason is particularly subjective, but it’s true. Whether he’s making me laugh from some of his antics or making me smile at how wholesome he can be. He is just a character who cheers me up whenever he appears. Not because he tries to, but because that’s just who he is.

And as such, I’m counting it as a reason he’s on this list simply because he’s so enjoyable.

His expressions vary mostly between cute and hilarious. His attitude towards some of the situations he ends up in are very relatable. Not what he “should” do or what you would expect a show geared towards a specific demographic would have him do, but what a random person in his position would be likely to do—good and bad.

Knowing he will inevitably be bailing Alya out of jail some day.

Screwing with Adrien about wanting to ask out Marinette himself.

Faking dead at the sight of Alya all dolled up for Chloe’s party.

Out of the core group, he is the one who most reminds me that these are teenagers. Sometimes selfish and often immature teenagers. While Adrien and Marinette are dealing with some variation of stress that comes from hero work and Alya is focused on her blog about the heroes, Nino is just vibing. He’s chilling and just trying to hang out and be a good friend.

All the fun antics and wholesome friend and teenage moments I was hoping for in Canon? Where we get to see them just be regular teenagers doing regular teenage things and be happy? They are here in Scarlet Lady. And Nino is one of the characters who shows that best.

He’s a silly.

He’s a sweetie.

He’s an idiot sometimes, but I can forgive him.

Overall, Nino isn’t really mean. He can be a jerk at times, or selfish and dismissive, but we don’t see him really be mean to people and he doesn’t get snarky the way other characters do.

He’s just a very human very chill character living his life and doing the best he can and I love and appreciate him for it.

…though of course he wouldn’t be on this list if that was all there is to him.

2. Nino’s Role

Nino’s role is hard to place when compared to the other main characters of the story. But trust me, it’s there. And it’s actually deeper than most would think.

So in most stories and shows, there is a character who tends to have a non-main plot arc related but still emotionally impactful role. They can serve as a connection to normalcy in an increasingly non-normal situation. It’s not just about showing support to the main character, but being a link for both the heroes and the audience to the normal world that the heroes are supposed to be fighting for. They are a reminder of humanity and what is supposed to matter. They can also see things from the normal world perspective that the heroes would lose sight of because as heroes, they have to focus on the bigger world issues.

Here, Nino is tied to normalcy. While Adrien and Marinette and Alya are all focused on heroes in various ways, Nino is focused on more personal things. He is focused on his moviemaking and his dreams. He is focused on his family. He is focused on his friends and their feelings.

He is focused on making sure his best friend has a good first school picture day.

He is focused on helping his bro try dating the girl he likes.

He is focused on supporting a friend in the middle of a panic attack.

He is focused on supporting his girlfriend during a tough time.

He is focused on partying with his friends.

He’s just focused on hanging out and having a good time and making sure others are happy.

Nino focuses on things on a personal level from the viewpoint of a normal kid.

As such, when he DOES get involved in heroics, it’s primarily regarding the impact it has on him on a personal level—to save his little brother during a major monster attack. To try and stay safe during an akuma attack. And yes, to support his girlfriend after she finally catches on that her hero is a fraud.

Nino isn’t attached to the world of heroes the way that the other three members of the Quartet are. Some may say this makes Nino lacking, but I would argue that this gives Nino a perspective that the other three are missing.

It should say something that Adrien and Marinette have gotten so used to Scar’s antics that as much as they hate it, they’ve lost track of how truly problematic it is. It reached the point that it didn’t register to them that other people were in a position to finally see what they had been dealing with, much less that anyone would be freaked out by that reveal. They had long since moved past shock and anger to simple annoyance and resignation.

Adrien seemed to be bitter but still more or less resigned to his unfortunate circumstances while Marinette was willing to put up with it so long as she was able to help Chat in some way. They come to accept that working around Scar and dealing with her attitude is just part of the job to the point they lost awareness of things outside of that. This doesn’t make them bad or uncaring, but it does emphasize a need for a character who isn’t so entrenched in the issues and constant crisis with lack of assistance that he can notice and bring attention to the smaller and more personal things. Their regular proximity to Scar has left them detached in a way and unaware of how she’s impacted others.

Nino is in a prime position to see and care—far enough to not be dragged into the drama but close enough to those affected to notice the effects. It is through this difference in position that Nino offers a perspective that the regular heroes can't. It’s what lets him be aware of other people, their needs, and the changes that they go through. Even when they themselves don’t realize it or the need for it.

This actually ends up being where Nino develops as a character. Because originally, he was…pretty bad at this to put it mildly. Maybe not Kim levels of oblivious, but still problematic.

Nino shows the makings of a leader. He has to if he wants to be a director. We see it in how he was able to take charge in Horrificator and Party Crasher. But leadership only works if it’s tempered by compassion and awareness regarding the other people involved, and that was something Nino struggled with.

He had a hard time picking up on things. He had a team but wasn’t really able to lead them or work with them properly because he was stuck in what he wanted or thought would be a good idea in the moment and didn't consider the feelings of those around him. He needed people at times to tell him what was going on and what impact he was having. And at times, even when he was told that something was wrong, he struggled to really listen. It stood to reason that he ended up with a mess, but at least he ultimately learned from it.

This kind of ends up becoming the core of Nino’s growth. He improved after the mess in Horrificator and wasn’t nearly as much of a jerk, but he still struggled with being able to read people. He acknowledges it as a weakness and actively tries to do better.

This is Nino’s arc. It isn’t as obvious or big or shiny since it’s one of the only ones not directly related to either of the main plots of Hawk Moth attacking the city or Scar/Chloe being the absolute worst. But we get to see over the course of the story how Nino is doing more to improve himself and be a better friend, a better person, and ultimately a hero.

As a result, Nino comes off as perhaps one of the more mature and levelheaded characters in the story…certain moments aside.

With Marinette focusing on helping Chat and Adrien focusing on surviving, it stands to reason that being the emotional support for their friends and helping resolve their personal NON-world crisis level problems would come as a secondary priority…and likely wouldn’t be addressed at all if things continued as is without intervention.

Nino ends up being the one who takes on that role. And it ends up being one of the most important roles in the story.

Remember, he is the one who helps Alya calm down from a panic attack in Animan. He later supports her as she's coming to terms with the reality of Scar not actually being heroic. He again helped her as Foxtrot to find a new goal for herself in Sapotis. He also reassured Chris in that same episode. He supported Adrien getting to be a normal teen with normal teen experiences in Bubbler. And again later with the reveal of Gabriel being Hawk Moth—both in taking the jerk down and knowing full well how much trouble this will bring Adrien.

And let’s also recall that this is all during the timeframe Nino is noted to have been struggling with this very thing and trying to improve. Alya calls him out on it in Dark Cupid. In Intermission 1, Nino was shown to still have mistaken Adrien’s crush as being on Marigold since Adrien’s lie the previous episode in Dark Cupid. He promised to “step up his game” after and be more aware.

And it shows. The very next episode is Animan, where Nino kickstarts the whole thing by setting up the hangout to allow Adrien and Marinette the chance to see if they could be more than friends.

These moments seem like such little things when compared to the bigger plot points of a super villain turning people into monsters or a hero stealing credit for city-saving she’s not doing, but they hit on a much more personal level because he is getting personal with people in a way they need but would otherwise be overlooked in the face of those “bigger problems“.

And the kicker is that said “bigger problems” would be continuing to keep the endgame events from happening without Nino there.

NINO is the one who helped Alya come to terms with her hero being a fake and guided her on how to move forward. If not for him, she might have tried to rationalize it and double down on her defense of Scar—that it’s her way of being a leader and staying out of the direct fighting in order to keep her Miraculous safe, which is a reasonable conclusion given that is Gabriel‘s assumption in the story and that it would be a valid tactic in any other situation if it weren’t for it being Chloe being the one doing it. And even if she had accepted the truth, that hardly meant she would do anything about it. She might just have deleted her blog and gone into a depression, doing absolutely nothing the rest of the series. Meaning no Koki Marina, no expose on said fake hero, and no leads to the main villain.

NINO is the one who set up the all boys party in Party Crasher. Kim might have had the idea, but Nino was the one with the plan and the excuses already planned. Bad move? Yes. A choice that I am going to rag on him for? Definitely. But it’s also the reason that Ivan and Kim completed their character arcs and became heroes. That’s not to say other things couldn’t have happened to give them that chance, but this specific event is why it happened and if not for this, it may not happen at all. Fu was the one giving out Miraculous at the finale and he specifically chose those who had been chosen previously. Meaning that without this, there is a likelihood that there would have been less heroes to help out in the final battle. Or whatever heroes were chosen last minute would have had similar issues as Zoe being the new Bee hero with no prior experience or knowledge of the akumas.

NINO is the one who taught Adrien what friendship actually is. Adrien’s whole speech in Despair Bear about friendship? How they watch out for each other? Consider each other’s feelings? Make each other feel good when they’re together? THAT’S NINO! He’s a huge part of the reason Adrien grows and is able to recognize healthy relationships and what isn’t healthy. Nino taught Adrien what friendship is. Nino gave Adrien the knowledge and strength to confront Chloe and Gabriel.

And here’s a huge one: NINO is the one who helped Adrien realize his own improved emotional and physical state, lessened stress level, and that he doesn’t have to continue to deny himself a relationship or things that would make him happy in general. Up to that point, Adrien fully wanted to date Marinette but had decided to forego trying because he was too stressed and busy dealing with Hawk Moth and akumas on his own while being dragged down by a partner who wasn’t helping. While Marigold joining certainly helped the situation, Adrien had been carrying the weight alone for so long and had been so accustomed to denying/being denied things he wanted that he didn’t actually notice how much better he was doing until Nino pointed it out. In Adrien’s own words: “Can…can I really? Is it possible? Am I allowed?”

Yeah, no movement was going to be made there because Adrien had spent so much time convincing himself he couldn’t until Nino pointed out that he could.

Without this insight, odds are we wouldn’t see Adrien and Marinette getting to date or reveal their identities as long as Hawk Moth was still around. And when they did finally take him down, dating would probably be the last thing on their minds.

Nino helped progress a major plot point. If I’m being snarky, I would say he did more to actually help get them together than Alya did with all of her attempts in Canon. Just going to prove he is the better wingman.

It may not feel like that much in comparison to some of the other major arcs in the story, but sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest impact and Scarlet Lady is a story that rewards us for paying attention to the little things.

Without Nino encouraging him to try, the endgame romance wouldn’t have happened. But more than that, since Adrien and Marinette getting together came with the reveal of their identities, that would also mean that Adrien wouldn’t have had the support he needed after his father’s defeat.

We saw it when he was talking with Fu. Adrien was trying to minimize the severity of the situation and pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t. He wasn’t able to let himself break down until Marinette showed up to force the matter.

Marinette was able to support him and know just how bad it was because they knew each other‘s identities by that time—something that Fu clearly didn’t want them knowing even at the end. And while the friends were all willing to support him and house him, they didn’t actually know the extent of it. It’s one thing to find out your father is a supervillain. It’s another thing to be the one who had to help take him down and see the full extent of what he had done and was willing to do…and how little he cared.

That? All of that? Everyone being in prime position to be where they would be needed? Nino contributed.

To be fair, maybe things could have still worked out without Nino, but I’d be willing to bet they wouldn’t have worked out nearly as well.

That’s part of what makes Nino work. As a character. As a friend. And as a hero.

3. Nino The Hero

When you have a storyline that involves other established characters becoming heroes and joining the main hero team—even if only temporarily, there needs to be a reason. Or at least more to the choice than that they are the main character’s best friend and it’s obligatory that they get first pick.

I dislike making the comparison in this case because they’re different characters with different situations in different versions of the same story, but I have to say that of the two, it makes the most sense to me that Scarlet Lady Nino was the first temp hero chosen compared to his Canon version or even Canon Alya.

I can’t even try to make a comparison with Anansi because we all know there is nothing to compare. For what should have been his hero episode, he was stuck playing referee and barely did anything with the Miraculous he was given.

So instead let’s look at how they handled the situation in Sapotis.

In Canon, we see Alya rather ineffectively and pointlessly trying to corral her akumatized sisters while seeming to forget that trying to talk down akumas generally doesn’t work and that she couldn’t control them even when they weren’t akumatized. Then her arc for the episode was a mix of secret keeper and trust exercise when neither were ever acknowledged in Canon to be an issue for her previously.

In Scarlet Lady, Nino isn’t dealing with the Akuma problem, he’s just trying to rescue his little brother—a much better and more reasonable use of his time and efforts as something he could feasibly accomplish without superpowers. Not easily, of course, but still possible. Or at least more possible than trying to talk down endlessly multiplying gremlins without any idea which were the originals or had the item.

When Nino sees Chat Noir, he begs him for help to save his little brother. Then when he’s given the offer to help out himself, he jumps at the chance—not to be a hero but to save Chris. Becoming a hero is a means to an end for him, even amidst the wonders of learning about kwamis and having superpowers, Nino’s primary focus was on saving Chris.

This shows Nino has good focus. He’s also a team player, because he goes along with Marigold’s overly complicated plan even if he doesn’t really understand it or how it is supposed to work. He trusts at least that they will help and that they have a plan that can work. Plus he got a good zing at Scar by emphasizing Chat and Marigold as the heroes of the city and the ones he will take orders from. It was a callout but a more mature one by emphasizing Chat and Marigold’s efforts rather than simply insulting Scar the way that most of the other characters did. Because that’s how Nino is.

By this time in the story, he’s already working and making progress towards being a better person. Something that becoming a hero both helped with and confirmed this progress in. We see it in his acts as a new member of a team and in his actions as a singular newbie hero. He prioritized and rescued Chris even as the Sapotis were being dealt with (in contrast to Scar who is concerningly chill with letting people die because she can just bring them back anyway). And after taking Chris back and being on a time limit, he still took the time to help Alya under the guise of a new face and gave her direction and an outside perspective when she needed it. That’s what makes him a good hero, he’s got heart.

Alya put it best: “You comforted me, even as Fox Trot, like the sweetheart you are. Of course you’d be a super hero.”

Of course he would be a super hero! Of course he would be picked as the first temp hero! Not because he’s Adrien’s best friend or the convenience of Chris being involved and them needing an extra person, but because Nino has the qualities to be an effective and supportive hero. He’s caring, he has good ideas, his work with music and movies makes him a good fit for the Fox and powers of illusions, he is capable of working as part of a team, and he’s good at seeing problems and helping to come up with solutions. He has heart!

It’s something he holds on to throughout the series. It’s why he gets akumatized on Adrien’s behalf and then again for Alya in the finale. It’s why he reaches out to offer Adrien friendship and tries to support him when he needs it while also tempering some of his antics. It’s in the way he supports Alya without dismissing the problem or fixing things for her. It’s in the way he helps guide people to realizations and solutions without taking away their agency.

Nino is a huge reason why things worked out. For the endgame, for the relationships, for the heroes, for the city.

Scarlet Lady gave Nino the focus, development, relevance, and character that makes him worthwhile. And that is why he more than deserves a spot on this list.

#ml analysis #scarlet lady #scarlet lady analysis #scarlet lady top 10 list #scarlet lady is better than canon #ml salt #nino lahiffe #give the boy some credit #and love #he deserves it #niño deserves better #for zoe

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heeseungiez · 1 month ago

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crushology 101 | part 1

synopsis! after a bad breakup with a guy you didn’t even find attractive leaves you reeling, you vow never to date anyone you don’t actually find hot… problem is, somehow, you ended up with five of them in your life, all at once?

featuring! tomorrow x together and many other idols (for like 3 seconds)

pairings! ot5 x gn!reader

genre! college au, fluff, inspired by crushology 101 (the kdrama) and the og work bunny and her oppas by nieun!

word count! 8k

a/n! to be completely honest, i initially wanted this to be a one-shot? but then i thought it might be more fun to cut it off where i did. i can also post it now instead of waiting longer yano... soooooo enjoy this silly little realistically unrealistic college au with tubatu

check out my masterlist!

part 1 | part 2

Choi Yeonjun. Choi Soobin. Choi Beomgyu. Kang Taehyun. Huening Kai.

Five guys, each more handsome than the other. All of them vying for your attention. How did you end up here? Well… the story isn’t exactly short. But there is enough time to at least get into the important parts.

So, where shall we begin?

Right…

A year ago, a few months after you started your first year at university, you found a boyfriend. However, he wasn’t exactly conventionally attractive. You told yourself that it didn’t matter though, as long as your boyfriend genuinely liked you. And he was so nice, or at least he seemed to be.

Your friends, Emma and Chloe, weren’t very convinced of his act and judged him harshly. Back then, you thought it was because they just didn’t find him attractive, so all of his faults were all the more obvious to them. But it wasn’t his looks that were the problem.

The son of a bitch dated you for months, only to try to prove to his friends that you were easy. Jokes on him, because you were nowhere near that. He didn’t get into your pants even after months of his stupid act, and you ended up nursing a broken heart over what? A scumbag who wasn’t even all that.

And he had the nerve to say you — YOU — were out of his league. Honestly… you might not be a top model, but when a man who is three steps away from being an incel says that about you… it does hurt. (And you hurt him back, though beating up your boyfriend turned ex did no good things for your reputation.)

From that point forward, you promised yourself to only date men that you found attractive. At least, so you can cry over someone other people won’t call a rat, or would sympathise with you rather than give you judgy looks.

Yet your best solution for the following semester was to just… not date at all. It was easy too, when people remembered you as the crazy ex who managed to break a guy’s rib.

So you didn’t date. You lived your life in sweet, sweet peace all the way until the summer semester of your second year. Until he appeared in your life. The first of five…

It’s a regular day for you as you go to class. Your first day of a new semester and a new subject for credits. Everyone you know from the upper years has had only great things to say about the professor teaching it, so you couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to register for it and witness the teachings of Professor Lee himself.

Not to mention it’s actually incredibly hard to get into the class since it has a limit of twenty students per semester, and prioritizes both speed and overall grades when signing up for the course. So being first to sign up doesn’t mean you’re in, but having a perfect score but signing up late also doesn’t guarantee it. Which also means none of your friends got into the subject.

You enter the class, entirely oblivious to your surroundings as you scroll through your playlist, music blasting in your headphones. A bag with your laptop hangs on your shoulder, and thinking back to it, you should’ve paid attention.

Colliding with a student who was busy talking to someone was certainly not on your itinerary. Even worse, your loosely slung bag falls off your shoulder, the loud thud of your laptop and other belongings almost reminiscent of the dip your heart makes.

Every piece of work you have ever made is on that laptop. Sure, the most important bits are saved on external drivers and the cloud but the small things, the seemingly unimportant things, the ones waiting to be used, those will never see the light of day if your laptop breaks.

“Fuck, no, no…” You instantly crouch to check the state of your laptop. Is it intact? Yes. Will it boot? You can’t say for sure until you open it.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The person you bumped into apologizes, though you don’t blame him at all. His hands reach for the other items that spread across the floor while you check the state of your laptop. “I can pay for repairs if it’s not—”

His voice dies down when your laptop boots, and you let out a huge sigh of relief at the device’s tenacity. Finally, you can look up at the man that nearly caused you a heart attack by practically blocking the entrance.

And your heart actually stops.

One of the most beautiful faces you have ever seen graces your vision, and your eyes widen in disbelief. He has the kind of look that reminds you of summer, of full fields of colorful flowers, and running through meadows under the bright sun in the middle of July. It’s the boyish kind of look your teenage self would most certainly write heartbreaking love songs about, imagining an infinite amount of “what if” scenarios.

“I know you,” the guy breaks your daydream, a smile appearing on his pouty lips. “Y/N, right? I’ve seen you around a lot.”

“I—” you can’t believe a man like this knows who you are. Mainly because you don’t know who he is, and you swear you would remember him if you met him before.

He chuckles at your flustered state, understanding the situation easily. “I’m Yeonjun. Choi Yeonjun,” he introduces himself casually, as if it made all the sense in the world that you don’t know him, but he knows you. “I was wondering if you’d take the class this semester.” He grins like he’s happy to know that you are taking it.

The more he speaks, the more confused you get. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head, and he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck in the most captivating way possible. His T-shirt rides up the slightest bit, revealing a toned torso that you did not need to catch a glimpse of.

“Why would you—”

“Well, you’re a music major, right? Most people want to get into Mr. Lee’s class.”

“But you’re not a music major,” you say plainly, because you would remember, okay? You would know if this man shared your major.

“No.” The corner of his lips rises in a soft smirk. “I’m a dance major, actually, but I’m really interested in producing, so I signed up and got in.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun repeats with a soft grin. “You here alone? Wanna join me and—” He points toward a row of seats with a bunch of people you are familiar with. Like Seo Changbin, a third year music major. “Well, them.”

“Uh, sure. Yeah, I guess I can do that,” you stutter out, internally freaking out. Not only is this beautiful man asking you to sit with him and his friends, but one of those friends is also among the top students in your major.

“I promise not to bite.” Yeonjun winks at you, and your entire world stops again, processing the whole interaction.

He laughs. “Come sit with us. We plan to grab lunch after class, too, so you can join us.”

“Me?” You point at yourself quizzically, looking around. But everyone is already diligently seated, so it’s only you and Yeonjun at the entrance.

“Well, unless there’s a really stunning spirit I can’t see standing next to you, then you are definitely the person I’m asking.”

You meet the second of five on the same day as Yeonjun. Because people tend to forget about the music room at campus, you use it for your own benefit quite often. Today is no different as you take advantage of the community instruments to work on one of your many projects. With headphones on your ears as you strum on the bass, trying to figure out the notes, you don’t notice anyone entering the room.

And he doesn’t notice you at first, either. He types away on his phone as he walks forward, completely unaware of his surroundings until his foot catches on one of the many scattered cables on the ground. He stumbles, and although he doesn’t fall, the phone in his hands does escape his hold, landing practically on your lap. Not before it hits you in the head, of course, to make the experience even worse.

“Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The guy runs up to you immediately, inspecting you from head to toe as if the phone were a weapon that could cause you internal bleeding and a concussion.

And maybe it did, because when you look up into the face of the guy who is practically on his knees, begging for your forgiveness, your eyes make angel wings sprout from his back, and a halo levitates just above his golden hair.

He makes you think of the fresh spring air, walking through a cherry blossom path. He would catch a petal from the air for you, only to notice that there are already many of them stuck in your hair, and he would laugh so softly, with such affection in his eyes, that it would make your heart burst with love and adoration.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, hand hesitantly reaching for the spot where his phone hit you. “Did I hurt you?”

You reach out for his hand, stopping him before he could touch you. It’s warm, his hand, and with the redness of his cheeks, you assume it’s from the slight embarrassment he currently feels. With your lips pressed tight together, you shake your head.

“I’m fine,” you reply simply. “What happened anyway? Did you throw your phone at me or something?”

“Oh… you didn’t see?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, but your confused expression tells him enough to let out a breath of relief. It means he didn’t embarrass himself more than he thought he did. “In that case, I’d rather not disclose that information.”

“Fair enough.” You nod, ready to go back to your work. But the guy lingers by your side rather than leaving you alone. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m Huening Kai,” he introduces himself with a smile. “You’re Y/N, right? I’ve seen you around campus a bunch of times.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And I really like some of your projects. Professor Min has a habit of throwing around a lot of praise when it comes to you,” Kai shares the information with a grin, standing back up. He towers over you now, and you have to crane your head to see his face. “I think we’re in his class together this semester.”

“Oh, that’s great. We’ll see each other every week, then.” And your eyes will be blessed with the sight of one of the most good-looking creatures to ever exist on this earth — but you leave out that part, of course.

“And if you don’t have anyone to work on group projects with, then you can have me,” he adds light-heartedly, but the idea of working alongside someone as striking as Huening Kai sounds almost absurd to you. This is the second handsome guy suggesting to either sit or work with you in a class. And the phrasing? You can have me. Someone save your poor heart because it might explode.

What the hell is going on?

“You’re not just trying to get a ride on my back, are you?” You raise a brow at him suspiciously, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“I’d never!” He raises his arms in defence. “I just… kinda don’t really have friends.”

“What!?” you spit out in disbelief, staring at the boy.

“I mean I do have friends. It’s just that I don’t share any classes with them because they’re in different majors. That’s what I mean.” He chuckles nervously, looking away from you.

“Right… That makes sense.” You nod to yourself. “Sure, though, I wouldn’t mind working with you if there are any group projects.”

“That’s great.” Kai grins. “By the way, do you mind if I share the space with you? To be honest, I thought nobody’s gonna be here.”

“No problem. I come here for the exact same reason anyway.” You smile at him.

The two of you spend hours inside the music room in silence aside from the occasional question here and there. Huening Kai does make a habit of stealing glances at you quite often, and you’re not any different when it comes to watching him work.

You meet the third of five at the bus stop. It’s late at night because you completely forgot about the time, and Huening Kai was no help either. The only reason both of you realized how late it had gotten was because Kai got a call from his younger sister about missing dinner with their parents.

Usually, at this late hour, nobody sits at the bus stop. But today, a guy stands tall, leaning against the frame of the bus schedule, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

Even from here, you can see he’s handsome. And uninterested too, which makes today somewhat easier as compared to what you experienced with Yeonjun and Huening Kai.

The guy glances at you only when you walk toward him, stopping next to him to wait for the bus. His brows furrow as something catches his attention.

Before you know it, his attention is fully on you, a huge grin adorning his lips. “Are you listening to KARA?” he asks, pointing at your headphones. You had no idea that your music was that loud.

“Yeah…” you reply.

“I love KARA!” the guy exclaims.

“They got me into music.” You smile at the memory and shrug. “I like to take inspiration from their songs when I’m working on my projects.”

“Oh? A music major?” the guy asks, and when you nod, he adds: “My friends study music at Yein University nearby, are you by chance—”

“Yeah.” You nod again. “And you?”

“I go to Batu University for media management, but it kind of goes hand in hand with the other guys… I’m Soobin, by the way. Choi Soobin.” He offers you his hand.

“Y/N,” you say with a smile.

The bus arrives then, but as you both pleasantly find out, the two of you live in the same street and are practically neighbors. So after exchanging numbers, you promise to see each other at a normal hour of the day, too.

You bump into the fourth boy in the library. Unfortunately, studying at university as a music major doesn’t actually mean that it revolves around playing instruments, singing and making the music itself. Sometimes you do have to bury your head deep into textbooks and learn about the history and theory of it all, so you can either take inspiration, or learn from your predecessor’s mistakes in order to create a new generation.

And sometimes, it’s simply a consequence of a terrible choice when it came to elective — entirely unoptionally optional — courses.

You tend to not pay much attention to your surroundings when you study at the campus library. With headphones on your head, music blasting loudly, but at a healthy level, you lose yourself in a world of words that make sense on their own but lose their meaning once they’re strung together in a ludicrous line of academic bullshit.

Today is different though. Because despite your desire to cram at least a few names into your brain and what they entail, your phone keeps blowing up with messages from your friend group chat, or either of the three boys you have met so far. Even when you put the phone on do not disturb, it’s as if your brain still catches the waves of each blocked notification on the device.

To make matters worse, you can’t shake the feeling of somebody staring at you. But when you look around yourself, there is no one. Or, well, there are people — obviously, you are sitting in a crowded and very shared area for students — but none of them are interested in you any more than they are in the books they pretend to read.

You decide to give up studying after two hours of sitting and barely three lines of notes in your notebook.

The chair creaks as you stand up, but your peers ignore the sound, disregarding it with sympathy because the thoughts of giving themselves a break are probably floating in their heads, too.

Leaving the library is a freedom you allow yourself only because you’re barely one week into the new semester.

You did not expect to step on a pair of glasses on your way outside of the library. But here you are, listening to the loud crack of glass and plastic under the rubber sole of your shoe. Your eyes widen as you look down, noting the expensive looking frames, and fairly thick lenses.

“Has anyone seen my glasses?” A voice asks nearby, and your heart drops into your stomach, knowing that you probably ruined this person’s only pair of glasses and completely disrupted their way of life until they get new ones.

You pick them up despite yourself, a huge frown appearing on your lips as you assess the damage.

Spoiler alert: it’s bad.

“I think I found them,” you say regardless, turning in the general direction of where the voice had come from.

To your relief, you think, the person is already wearing a pair of glasses. He’s pretty, in a good way, you’d say. With dark hair falling into his eyes in styled waves. Quite tall, too. He’s what people would call the resident cute nerd, someone who you’d want to tutor you when you pretend to be dumber than you truly are.

“Fuck. I knew I’d dropped them,” he curses under his breath, not even considering the fact that you stepped on them and it’s entirely your fault they’re ruined. “I always carry spares in case,” he adds and points to the glasses already sitting on his nose. “Blessings of a minus five vision, I guess. Can’t function without either glasses or contacts.”

“I’m so sorry. I can pay for a new pair,” is the first thing that leaves your mouth when the guy approaches you, and he shakes his head.

“No, it’s not on you,” he says, looking at you sympathetically. “I dropped them here, it’s my fault. They could’ve gotten stolen too, and nothing much would change.” His nonchalance throws you off guard because the pair truly seems expensive.

“I have dozens more at home if it puts you at ease,” he adds as if he could hear your thoughts, his words seemingly leaving his mouth at a mile per hour. “You could say I have a record of being reckless with my glasses, but contacts tend to irritate my eyes.”

“Oh…” you don’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry. Uh, I’m Choi Beomgyu,” he introduces himself to you. “I didn’t mean to randomly talk your ear off, it’s just a self-defence mechanism in embarrassing situations.”

“I feel like I should be the one embarrassed and apologetic,” you say, a soft smile making its way to your lips. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, if you really feel apologetic, would you mind giving me your number?” Beomgyu asks.

“What?”

The boy simply grins as if it’s a completely normal situation. “I’m easy to please, really. If you treat me to a cold beer, everything can be easily forgotten and forgiven.”

“Is that what it is?” You raise a brow at him. “A ploy to get free beer?”

“Well, I didn’t plan for my glasses to get broken today, but if I can get your number and a free beer, I will be very satisfied.”

“Truly a man with simple needs.”

“Never needed to be anything more.”

You met Kang Taehyun on a completely random Tuesday. Walking through campus, you mind your own business until a commotion catches your attention by the basketball court available mainly to P.E. majors.

Normally, you would disregard the situation because why would you care about a bunch of sweaty boys playing with a ball? But then you catch sight of three familiar faces — guys from your major — all playing against one man, and losing. Which piques your curiosity to the max.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you ask someone on your left, when you make it to the tiny crowd, and the person turns to you with an excited grin.

“They made a bet to play three on one. If Kang Taehyun loses—” the person points at the only guy you don’t recognize— “then the third year P.E. majors gotta buy a feast for the music majors. If those guys lose, they buy for Taehyun and his friends.”

“Isn’t that a bit unfair?” You furrow your brows, but the person merely shrugs.

“Well, it seems not,” they say, clapping when Kang Taehyun scores another point against the three fumbling music majors. “That’s 5 to 1 for Taehyun,”

You glance at a group of more familiar faces standing back and merely laughing at their friends’ misery rather than helping them out. Rolling your eyes, you step onto the small court. With your luck, one of the music majors throws the ball in your direction rather than his teammates, and you catch it with ease, tilting your head to the side.

“You guys made a bet and can’t even play this game properly?” you ask with a raised brow. Then you turn toward the crowd, your gaze firm on who you want to play with. “Heeseung, stop laughing your ass off and get here. And you too, Nicholas!” you call the two guys you’ve known for years. They’re what you would call your occasional friends — and also the people that used to play competitive basketball in high school.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? This is between us and the—”

“Music majors, right? Well, we’re also music majors,” you say confidently, staring down the guys trying to stop you. “How about we do a fair game of 3 to 3 with a change of players and same stakes, since you guys believe in your basketball skills so much?”

Kang Taehyun, the one who’s been playing the whole time walks up to you with big enough eyes to fell a tree out of sheer cuteness, though it does not fit the way his lips form a determined smirk.

“I’d get just changing players, but also trying to make this fair puts you at another disadvantage,” says one of Kang Taehyun’s friends because it doesn’t seem that he’s the overly talkative type.

The corner of your lips rises in a challenging smirk. “Might be.”

But Heeseung and Nicholas are already standing by your side, matching the height of the P.E. majors. “You sure about this, Y/N?” Heeseung asks.

“Do you want to have at least a sliver of a chance at free food?”

“Fair argument.”

In short: you lost. However, the difference in score was not as embarrassing as the original trio going against just one.

“Not bad,” Kang Taehyun speaks up for the first time since you saw him. His voice is slightly deeper and much quieter than you would expect it to be. “Almost had us in the end.”

“We haven’t played in a few years.” Nicholas shakes his head at the compliment, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “A little heads up next time would be appreciated.”

“I’m a spontaneous person.” You shrug, though in reality, you don’t know why you did this. You aren’t the kind of person to try and outshine someone — let alone go against the P.E. majors out of the blue. Yet your eyes always end up at one place: on Kang Taehyun.

The man seems both absolutely oblivious to the outside world and acutely aware of everything that happens around him. Like he wants people to disregard him, but knows to keep distance regardless. What might act as a repellent to others, is like a magnet to you.

“Well, if you guys are ever bored, we’re always looking for more people to play with us,” one of the older guys says, Fuma, you heard him be called at one point. He puts his hands on Taehyun’s shoulders as if to massage him and grins.

“Don’t you have a whole faculty just for that?” Heeseung questions, amused.

“They suck.” Concise, straight to the point — that is Kang Taehyun. He doesn’t speak unless necessary, and he never says anything he doesn’t mean. To other people, it might seem like he’s cold, aloof, and doesn’t care about anything or anyone but himself, but getting to know him and slowly peeling off layers of armor that was never truly there is a reward in itself.

“So, just a question, but we’re not the ones buying food, right? It’s still them?” Heeseung points toward the original trio that made a bet with zero skills to back it up.

“Nah, forget it. We appreciate a good game,” says the tallest of the three P.E. guys, you heard Fuma call him Kei during the game. He high-fives Heeseung with a grin.

“I wouldn’t mind buying you a coffee, though.” Taehyun’s voice nearly startles you, especially because he’s speaking to you. Staring at you. With a hint of expectancy in his big brown eyes.

“Hm?” Your brain stutters. Heeseung and Nicholas laugh at you, nudging your arms from each side as if you were kids in middle school, watching somebody confess their feelings.

“You’re entitled to say no, but I just thought I’d give it a shot.” Taehyun’s voice is nonchalant, but the way his lips twitch and his expression slightly changes with the anxiety of possibly being rejected, you can tell it would hurt his pride.

“You might need to raincheck, because vocal training starts in ten.” Heeseung, as helpful as ever, destroys the moment by checking the time on his phone. “Aaand we’re on the wrong side of the campus because we just spent our break playing basketball instead.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, I’d love to get coffee sometime, but it’ll have to wait. So sorry.” You barely manage to get out your apology before Heeseung has you by the wrist and is dragging you along in his sprint, so you can make it to vocal training in time.

“Dude! You never do this kind of thing?” Kei hits Taehyun’s arm with an amazed smirk, staring at him with wide eyes.

Taehyun hides his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shrugging. “I just like people who aren’t afraid to stand up for themselves.”

“I don’t even remember their name,” Fuma notes, running a hand through his head. “But they played well.”

“It’s Y/N,” Taehyun says, liking the way the name sounds on his lips.

You could sense Yeonjun’s staring from a mile away. Except he’s not even six feet away. He’s sitting right next to you, disrupting your work flow as you try to write down every single piece of information that leaves Professor Lee’s mouth.

It’s almost impossible to breathe with his annoyingly handsome face glued to your side, a smile gracing his lips as he doesn’t even bother to hide the fact that his attention is purely on you. It’s to a point where it irritates you more than it flusters you, because how can he just not pay attention to what Professor Lee says when his class is generally the hardest to get into in the whole faculty?

“Do you want to fail this class so badly?” you ask under your breath, most of your attention still on the front because you could not bear looking at Yeonjun.

The warm sound of his chuckle sends shivers down your spine and sets butterflies off in your stomach. It’s quite maddening because there is no way in hell that someone like Choi Yeonjun would actually like you.

Yet he never misses the chance to include you in anything group related, nor does he ever stop inviting you to hang outs and campus events that you would normally miss out on to work on your many unfinished projects. When you keep declining his offers, he doesn’t even seem to be any less determined if not more motivated. But you’ve seen the way people generally gravitate toward Yeonjun, so you can never fully understand — why would it be you?

“You’re so cute when you worry about me,” he remarks, eyes never leaving your face. “But Changbin’s actually voice-recording all classes, so I have no need to listen when I have you right next to me.”

“Flirting is a really bad habit for you.” Shaking your head, you dare to glance at Yeonjun from the corner of your eye. He grins at you as if he won at life. But the small voice in your head still doubts — if your ex-boyfriend had secretly been an asshole, what if Yeonjun’s intentions were even worse? What if this is simply an elaborate joke between him and his friends? Just another plot to break your heart.

You could not give in.

Not again.

“I don’t flirt,” he replies, a pout forming on his lips.

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

Yeonjun follows you even after class, almost like a stray cat who got attached to the first person it came across. “You don’t trust me,” he says eventually, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans while you’re trying to pick out an appropriate lunch in the campus cafeteria.

Eyes follow him wherever he goes, because if there is anything Choi Yeonjun does, it’s drawing attention to himself without even trying. It isn’t something you can fault him for, but it makes you even more suspicious.

For one, he doesn’t let you pay for lunch. Two, he’s friendly with everyone who dares to greet him. And three, Choi Yeonjun isn’t the only good-looking man in the world.

Your phone lights up with a notification. A message from KARA lunatic popping up.

[12:54] KARA lunatic: Next time you forget something at my place, make sure it’s valuable, so I can sell it later. [2 attached photos]

The photos include a scrunchie you’ve been trying to find the whole day, and a photo of Soobin wearing it around his wrist to remember that he should return it.

Between the two of you, a tacit agreement of sorts formed last week. Sometimes, when either of your roommates decide to have visitors over, you simply remove yourself from the situation by going over to Soobin’s place, which is practically three steps away. And Soobin lets you stay, as long as you don’t disrupt his personal space.

And then another message finds its way to your phone from a contact named friendless guy.

[12:55] friendless guy: professor min approved the changes we made for the spring festival theme! yayyyy [1 photo attached]

Huening Kai doesn’t fail to send a selfie of himself doing thumbs up.

You smile to yourself, reading the messages. It makes Yeonjun straighten in his seat across from you, elbows leaning on the table as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Am I that bad?” he questions, sporting that damned adorable pout. “I’m really sorry if I did anything to offend you, Y/N, I’m just—”

“You did nothing to offend me, Yeonjun.” You shake your head, setting your phone down. Staring him in the eyes, you don’t believe they belong to those of a liar. But he is right; you cannot trust him. Not yet. “But you’re so— you. And I’m… me.”

“Stunning?”

You laugh in his face. Not at him, obviously, but at his words. He is calling you stunning? When your ex-boyfriend said you were out of his league? It just feels like one strange, elaborate joke from fate itself.

“This campus is full of people that already adore you, Yeonjun. So why—”

“Because,” Yeonjun says, a smile forming on his lips. He never breaks eye contact with you, gazing at you as if you hung the stars in the sky.

“Because?”

“Because.”

Despite your skepticism, Yeonjun doesn’t waver. Instead, he seems to appreciate that you don’t instantly jump at his feet, ready to do whatever he asks of you. It makes you all the more real to him — a genuine person. (And he likes you so much more for it.)

“What would you say to a casual hang out then? As friends, let’s say. You, me, and some of my other friends.”

“When? I have work to do, Yeonjun…”

“Not now, obviously. But I’d let you know.” And he attempts to wink at you, but both of his eyes close instead, and you can’t help but giggle at the action. It’s adorable, and entirely uncharacteristic of his otherwise perfect, flirty image.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I can do that.”

“Really?” Yeonjun barely contains his excitement, attracting the attention of a few students. Their sour expressions turn into ones of pure awe when they realize it’s Choi Yeonjun they were about to scold, though.

“Really.”

“You won’t regret it!”

Working in a pair is strangely comforting. You smile to yourself as you listen to the faint buzzing of speakers and Huening Kai’s scribbling against the paper. He writes down notes as they come to him, while you work on a mix of sounds to get a melody that’s been stuck on your mind the whole day out of your head.

The two of you have gotten comfortable around each other quickly. In the same way you find solace in Soobin’s presence and apartment on nights when you need it, Kai is your sanctuary during the day when there is nothing much to do on campus.

“What would you think if I said I want to start a band?” Kai asks rhetorically, humming to himself. The sound of a pencil scratching against paper stops as Kai turns to look at you. “I saw this poster, you know, that said the school will hold a competition during the spring festival.”

“So you want to start a band to join this competition?”

“The prize money is really good,” Kai says, nodding. “And we get free coffee in the campus café for the rest of the year.”

Your eyes widen. “I can… see the appeal.”

“Would you join?”

“Your band?”

Kai nods.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just didn’t want to assume.” Kai shrugs a smile forming on his lips. “But if I’m on the drums and you’re on the bass, we might still need a good deal of people.”

“Just guitar and piano probably,” you say without much worry. “Those are the most common among music majors anyway… and I kinda have ideas.”

“You do?”

“Well, for guitar, I’d try asking Park Jongseong. He’s really good. Or Choi Taeyang. Maybe both. And piano… I guess, Kim Jungsu?”

“You know a lot of people in our major,” Kai remarks, turning in his place to look at you.

“I participate in way too many events, I guess.” You bite the inside of your cheek, eyeing Kai from the corner of your eye. “But you don’t, since I didn’t know about you…”

Kai chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “I prefer avoiding public events. And when I do, I only keep to my friends or myself.”

“Fair enough,” you say, grinning. “I hope you’re ready to let the world know that Huening Kai exists, though. Because you’re not gonna be left alone after that.”

“I’ll just use you as my shield.”

“Damn. Can’t wait.”

Kai laughs softly, and you relish the sound, subconsciously recording it to tuck away in a corner of your mind for later.

The restaurant near campus buzzes with life as people file in and out for a quick lunch between classes.

You are not an exception to the rule, entering with an excited grin on your face.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name makes your head turn, and a squeal leaves your lips at the sight of your friends, Emma and Chloe. You haven’t seen them in ages, although you attend the same university. But being in different faculties complicates your ability to meet up.

“It’s been so long!” you exclaim as you practically run to them.

They envelop you in a tight hug, smiles plastered on their faces.

“Too long.” Chloe frowns. “I was starting to forget what you look like.” She dramatically places a hand over her forehead before her eyes set on you, scanning every part of you like a hawk.

“We’ll take lots of pictures later,” Emma says, giggling. “But you’re doing okay, right? I heard you’re working on the spring festival’s soundtrack.”

“Yeah! It’s actually going really well. Main theme being love and all, it’s pretty easy to satisfy the masses.”

“Anything light and upbeat would probably do.”

“Exactly. The expectations are so low that it’s easy to exceed them.” You smirk, proud of the tiny reference that you haven’t given up since your childhood. “But anyways, can we get something to eat first? I’m starving.”

“You’re reading my mind.”

The three of you spend an hour catching up and eating your lunch. Chloe rants about linguistics classes, while Emma shares information about her upcoming performance at the local theater.

“By the way, do you guys know Choi Yeonjun?” Emma asks with a slightly raised brow, leaning her elbows on the table, because she is about to share vital gossip.

“Duhh,” Chloe responds, rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows Choi Yeonjun. Dude’s campus famous.”

You don’t say anything. All you can do is purse your lips in thought and nod solemnly. Knowing Choi Yeonjun is certainly one way to put it. Thinking about it, you probably have a few unread messages from him on your phone right now.

“Well, someone found out who one of his exes is!” Emma exclaims, pulling out her phone to search something up. “Look. That’s literally him and the Karina, cozying up together on campus.”

“Damn. How old is that photo?” Chloe questions, and Emma shrugs in response.

“Like two years back maybe. They were campus sweethearts in their first year. Before she, you know, dropped out and became famous and all that stuff.”

“Why’s that important anyway?” You don’t want to sound jealous, because you’re not— you shouldn’t be. You have zero reasons to be jealous over a past relationship from a guy who doesn’t have to be anything more but your friend.

“Karina’s coming back to our faculty. Dance major, obviously. To finish her studies.”

“Wait. You’re telling me Karina is going to be breathing the same air as me? Walking the same paths as me? Living around the same campus as me?” Chloe freaks out, while you lef out a breathy, amused laugh. “And she’s Choi Yeonjun’s ex. That is insane news.”

“For you, maybe.” You shake your head, feigning ignorance rather than acknowledging the fact that once Karina is back on campus, Yeonjun’s attention will probably divert back to her.

And the idea of it totally doesn’t upset you.

Chloe and Emma both look at you with raised brows, eyes piercing through you as they try to read your body language and grasp at all the words that are left unsaid.

“How do you know Choi Yeonjun?” Emma asks after a minute of awkward silence, finally coming to her own conclusion.

“He attends Professor Lee’s classes,” you don’t lie. “We have a few group projects together.”

“And you haven’t said a thing?” Chloe sounds appalled, expression bemused.

“It’s not that important.” You try to brush it off, but the girls are already on you, grabbing your phone off the table.

Not only does it show a long thread of messages from Yeonjun, however, it also contains Beomgyu’s rant about baroque music, Soobin’s invitation to have fried chicken near your apartments, and Kai’s list of things the two of you have to work on before the spring festival.

Their mouths drop to the ground in disbelief as they look through them, eyes glued to the profile pictures of each boy.

“Holy shit.”

“There’s no way.”

“Our child is actually growing up.” Chloe feigns a tear, glancing at you. “I was scared you were letting your ex ruin every possible relationship you could have in the future.”

“Those are my friends,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Not when they’re this hot.” Emma shakes her head. Knowing your passcode and having full access to your phone, she opens Soobin’s contact first, his picture taking over the whole display.

“Oh, this is insane.” Chloe and Emma join their heads together as they scroll through your private messages, but you let them. Perhaps you should’ve updated them at least a tiny bit about what’s been going on in your life.

Someone clears their throat near you.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” The voice makes your eyes widen, head snapping in the direction of Kang Taehyun. You were beginning to think you might never see him again.

Chloe and Emma ignore him, too absorbed in your phone to pay attention. You leave them be, and smile at Taehyun instead, shaking your head.

“Not at all. I—”

“You never got the chance to give me your number,” Taehyun says, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “And my offer for the coffee still stands.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He nods, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile. You watch him take his phone out, offering it to you, so you can put your number in.

When you give his phone back, you watch him type in a name for you, and you’re certain it was not your name he wrote in there. “I will text you to figure out when we both have time, then.”

“Okay.” You nod, and Taehyun grins. Departing before your two friends can even notice that he was ever there.

Or, before he texts your phone number, reverting their attention back to you.

“Who is this guy asking you to save his number?” They question, opening up Taehyun’s profile. “He’s—”

“Good-looking?” you ask, well aware of the fact. Obviously, you’re not blind, so you know that each of the boys you have come across these past few weeks are incredibly attractive. But…

There is a line you shouldn’t cross with either of them.

Yeonjun scheduled the hangout with his friends for Friday. Which you were not opposed to. You didn’t have any plans, and all you really cared about these past few days was the song you and Kai have been trying to finish for the spring festival, so he can focus on starting his band.

“I think if we layer our voices a bit more, it will come out great,” you point out, playing through the current demo.

“Okay. We can do that.”

Kai leans over your shoulder to stare at the screen of your laptop, his breath tingling the back of your neck. You do your best to ignore the way your heart speeds up in his vicinity, and the way he places his arm on the desk, caging you in from one side.

“I think we should also remove some of the riffs. It makes the song sound too heavy for something spring-themed,” he adds, biting the inside of his cheek in thought. “It’s about love that blooms slowly over time, not a fast-paced summer fling.”

Humming, you nod. “I guess you’re right.”

“I think we could finish this by Friday, and then we can start working on recruiting band members.”

“That sounds great, but I’m only free until four on Friday.”

“Me too, actually. To support a friend. Apparently, I gotta meet and I quote: the love of his life. Said he needs it to be casual or something.”

“Probably doesn’t want to come off too strong on the love of his life.” You imitate Kai’s voice as you say the last part, and the boy chuckles, nodding.

“I’ll be honest, though, I’ve never seen him be this excited about a person. Not since his last breakup, at least,” Kai shares, smiling to himself. There is a glint of happiness for his friend in his eye as he looks at you.

Forgetting how close he is to you, you make the mistake of turning your head in his direction, meeting his gaze from barely a few centimeters. His eyes briefly flicker to your lips, but it happens in a matter of seconds that make you wonder if you haven’t made it up.

“What about you?” you ask, your attention back on the screen of your laptop.

“What do you mean?” Kai tilts his head, brows furrowed.

“Don’t you have any exes you’re trying to get over?” you question a bit too eagerly, but Kai doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he chuckles dismissively and shakes his head.

“God, no,” he replies. “I’ve never dated anyone before. And I think it’s for the better.”

“Really? You never liked someone?” You fight the urge to look Kai in the eye because he has yet to move back, and you cannot handle staring down at him from such a close distance again.

“I mean… it’s not that I didn’t want to. I guess it just never felt right, you know?” Kai shrugs, finally stepping back from you, giving you the space to properly breathe. “I’ve had people confess to me before, but I’m not exactly someone who’d go for it just because someone showed interest. I can’t do it if my heart isn’t in it.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you keep quiet. He isn’t wrong. You completely understand his point because that is exactly what you think as well. Though it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t have this mindset before, and swore off dating because of it, too. Why are you still getting affected by something an asshole had done ages ago?

You should’ve been able to move on by now. But it’s so hard to trust people.

“Are you okay?” Kai asks after a minute of silence.

“What?” You blink. “Oh, yes, I’m fine. I was just… thinking, I guess. Sorry.”

“Thinking about what?” Kai laughs softly, an unidentifiable emotion flashing in his eyes.

“Just… that you’re not wrong.” You press your lips together, running a hand through your hair. “Dating someone you don’t actually like is not a good idea.” You should never have given in to your ex-boyfriend just because he was persistently chasing you.

“So I’m guessing you are dealing with an ex,” Kai says, his tone reassuring. “That bad, huh?”

“If pretending to like me for months just to get to fuck me is bad then yes, you could say that.”

“What.” Kai’s eyes widened, disgusted shock contorting his features. “Did—”

“No, actually. That’s the funny part, I guess,” you reply, a self-deprecating laugh escaping your lips. “I shouldn’t be so hung up on a guy I wasn’t even that interested in, right? Like, I was just entertaining him because he said he liked me.”

“Man, that’s insane.” Kai sighs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair before you feel both his hands on your shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. “That can totally mess with your trust.”

A smile forms on your lips. The way Kai understands spreads warmth through your chest, and you lean back, more into his touch — into him.

“If I’d known you earlier, I would totally teach that guy a lesson,” he says under his breath, and you giggle quietly, your hand reaching up to rest on the top of his on one of your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you say softly. “But I may have roughed him up a bit myself when I found out…” you admit, averting your gaze to the ground.

“Good!” Kai exclaims, another low chuckle leaving his lips. “Wait… you’re the ex who broke some music major’s ribs!” The realization comes to him slowly, eyes crinkling with sheer amusement at the thought. “I always knew there was a story behind it.”

“Yeah…” You nod, biting your lip. “That is me, I guess. The crazy ex. Yay.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Kai says, his hands still a heavy weight on your shoulders. “I never thought you were crazy since I first heard about it, anyway. And now I think you just had a reasonable reaction to finding out that someone you chose to trust betrayed it…”

[14:24] KARA lunatic: MAN [14:24] KARA lunatic: this is so messed up [14:24] you: what is? [14:25] KARA lunatic: t1’s playing against g2 today and i can’t watch [14:25] KARA lunatic: this is HELLL [14:25] KARA lunatic: what sins am i being punished for [14:26] you: why can’t you watch? [14:28] KARA lunatic: i’m being forced into society tonight [14:28] KARA lunatic: pray for me [14:30] you: you’re so dramatic

The finished song sounds better than you expected. It’s calm, yet energetic, capturing the beginning of a slow, yet powerful love story. In a way, it is exactly the type of song you would associate with Kai, so it only makes sense that he was the one helping you make it.

“What time is it?” he asks when you finally click the send button, sharing the song file with your professor.

Checking the clock, it seems to be about time to start packing up for your meet with Yeonjun. “We’ll have to go, I think,” you say, pursing your lips.

“I thought so. Where are you heading? Maybe I can walk you before I have to make an appearance with my friends,” Kai suggests, crossing the music room to grab his denim jacket.

“The Chinese restaurant near campus. Not that far away, so I’ll be fine.” You wave your hand dismissively, but Kai stops mid-putting-on his jacket, tilting his head to the side.

“I’m actually also heading there, though.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Kai smiles, shrugging on the jacket. “So I get to walk you regardless.”

“I suppose that’s how fate wants it.” You chuckle, throwing your laptop inside your shoulder bag.

“Is your friend the punctual kind?” you ask in front of the restaurant.

Kai shrugs in response. “Not usually. But I think he might be for this one.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he’s not entirely sure if he likes the idea of you meeting up with another guy — someone he doesn’t know. But at least he’ll be in the same restaurant.

“Alright then.”

Nodding, you walk inside the restaurant together. Choi Yeonjun sits inside a booth with two other guys, their backs facing you. Spotting him inside the packed restaurant is far too easy, and you hate the way your heart skips a beat when you see him laugh at something his friend has said.

“Oh, I see my friend,” Kai says, just as Yeonjun stands up because he noticed you. “Yeon–”

“Y/N!” Yeonjun exclaims giddily, waving you over. Though his excitement quickly turns into confusion once he notices Kai standing next to you, his brows furrowing.

You glance at Kai. “Don’t tell me—”

“Yeonjun is the guy you’re meeting?”

“Yeonjun is the guy who said I’m the love of his life?”

Kai faces you, nodding slowly. But when you look back at Yeonjun, it only gets worse. His two friends have stood up, too, and when they turn, you recognize both of them, too.

Choi Beomgyu.

Kang Taehyun.

And then someone rushes inside the restaurant, nearly body-slamming into you because he’s busy staring at his phone.

“Soobin?” Your lips part as you gape at the tall guy.

“Y/N?” He looks at you. Then his eyes fly over to the boy standing next to you. “Kai?”

“You know each other?” Both boys question with their eyes wide while they stare between you and the other.

“Holy shit,” you murmur.

tags: @moonpri @addictedtohobi @dainsleif-when-playable @cloverwalker @ttaesoob @ivvees-blog @semi-wife @starrias @yunjica @lun4mizuka

feel free to ask to be tagged!

#txt x reader #txt fic #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader

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luvwestwood · 1 year ago

Text

"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru

4,120 words.

warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt

notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.

To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.

You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.

Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party.

Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.

She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..

You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."

"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.

You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.

It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."

You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.

As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.

The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.

Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.

You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”

She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”

You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..

A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.

The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.

You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him.

He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"

Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"

You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.

You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.

It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.

The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time.

"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"

It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.

The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.

You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.

"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."

You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."

"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.

Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.

You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.

"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.

"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.

"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.

"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."

"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."

He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”

Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.

”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”

He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.

As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.

By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"

"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."

You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.

”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”

You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.

For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something. Is he… reaching for a..

He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.

”You smoke?”

You looked at him. “What do you think?”

”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.

He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”

”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.

”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.

You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”

You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.

He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”

Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”

Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”

He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.

”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”

You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.

”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”

”Okay, what now.”

”Do it, take a hit.”

You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.

”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.

You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.

”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”

The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.

“Good girl, see? No coughing.”

You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.

”..How’d I know if it hit me?”

He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”

All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.

You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.

Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.

”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”

You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again.

Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?”

Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”

”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”

You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”

”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”

“Okay, why not.”

“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”

You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”

”Aww, it was worth a shot.”

“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.

”You ever had a boyfriend?”

”Once. But I was like sixteen.”

Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”

“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”

He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”

Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”

He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”

You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”

”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.

It was your turn to ask question again.

”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”

”Dunno. Why’d you think?”

Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong.

You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.

”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”

His next question came out immediately.

“..Wanna see for yourself?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.

”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”

Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser.

You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.

A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.

You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.

Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.

”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.

His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”

A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?

You gently crawled over across the bed, closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.

He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.

You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved.

The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.

He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.

You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.

Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.

His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?” Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.

You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.

It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.

He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.

The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.

You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.

Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.

Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.

”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”

He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.

You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”

You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.

Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”

Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.

”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.

He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.

”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.

”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.

You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

”Heyyy, you there?”

You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.

”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.

You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.

Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.

Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.

He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.

”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.

You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.

“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.

As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet. Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.

The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.

“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.

He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.

“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.

No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.

The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.

It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”

You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.

Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.

“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.

The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”

You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.

And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto suguru #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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tumblingxelian · 7 months ago

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Why I Think Chloe is a Skilled CQC Fighter:

So, I wanted to cover in slightly more detail why I tend to think that Chloe is a genuinely skilled fighter and why I feel it is supported by at least the first three seasons of canon materials in MLB.

1: As Anti Bug, Chloe was able to combat, match and then quickly overcome Adrien in closed quarters combat. One could claim this was him holding back due to friendship but that'd be even more of a HC and he looks pretty comfy.

One could claim it was just because he needed to be in peril for the story but the fact is that still means he lost the fight.

2: In Maledikator Chloe demonstrated strong martial art based kick forms, which by itself is fairly minor but these things add up.

3: During Heroes Day, Chloe does demonstrably better than the other two reserve heroes and is even able to cover for them wen they are unable to fight.

She also l lasts even after they begin turning and needed to be ambushed to be removed from the fight.

4: During Miracular, Chloe has a one on one fight with Mayura in which she does very well and given Mayura is one of the top fighters in the setting I feel that says a lot.

5: This is also where she expressly demonstrated Street Savate style martial arts moves which no other character does. This indicates its a Chloe thing not a Miraculous user thing.

6: This last bit is more of a HC than the above, but it does feel worth keeping in mind both Adrien & Felix were expected to learn a martial art. So it seems like this may well have been normalized among them and so would not be particularly unusual.

Conclusion: Ultimately, Chloe shows herself to be very good fighter.

What's more, she does so with enough frequency and in unique enough circumstances and ways that it does not feel like animators just being careless or having fun. Otherwise we'd see more of this from others. The fact that Chloe stands out here is notable and as whether one takes her as knowing a specific martial art or not is besides the point that Chloe is evidently very tasty in a fight.

#cmlb fandom #miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #analysis #Jock!Chloe #If characters demonstrate a skill enough times in a plot important way I am fine with just assuming they have that skill #I don't feel the need for the author a show bible; or the character to give me backstory or confirmation on it #If they show it & its plot relevant & its frequent its there.

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ghostlyferrettarot · 1 year ago

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★Pick a Picture:☁️🩵Things your FS would love about you🩵☁️

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

🩵If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩵

🩰Masterlist🩰

🩵Hi pile 1, Your person loves how smart both emotionally and intellectually you are,they feel as if you outsmart them sometimes.

They love how your energy radiates when you enter a room, I feel like they will talk about you a lot with their peers. You brought a new perspective to their life, its like you brought back the "adventurous" side to them.

You are probably someone with a good sense of humor, really clever and witty; they also adore this. You are your FS comfort space, they apreciate how atentive and understanding you are with them; they may not open up easily but with you this changes, you are nonjudmental and grounded, they admire this and hopes to bring this support to you as well.

☁️Song:

🩵Hi pile 2, Your fs loves how attractive you are. You are probably soemone who is effortlesly flirty and alluring, they like to show you off a lot, in a good way of course.

They love how charismatic and entertaining you come off, for them even a little "wild". You are autentic, in a way they never knew before; you make them curious and they adore that. I feel like you two would be partners in a crime, "ride or die", they will put their entire trust in you blindly.

"Dreamy" is what i keep hearing, you are the kind of person they always dreamed to be with, their dream come true. Theres a balance in your personality, you know how to have fun but also how to be serious when needed, and thats what makes them trust you with their life. They just completely adore you Pile 2! Lucky you <3

☁️Song:

🩵Hi pile 3, Your Fs loves how your presence in their life makes them happy. They see you as their source of happiness and joy, they could be having a bad day but if you smile at them, they whole day its saved.

I feel that you also confuse them in a good way, its like they cannont point out what but they feel like you always surprise them in some way. You may have some kind of mystical understanding and they really admire this about you, maybe you even connect them more with their spiritual side. They also love the way you dress, maybe you have an unique style, piercings, jewerly, haistyle, etc.

You are just so lovable and unique in their eyes, they trully see their entire future with you by their side.

☁️Song:

🩵☁️Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated ☁️🩵

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aliensunflower-fics · 2 years ago

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My Recommended Fic List

So, I got this ask awhile ago, and since I have been re-reading a bunch of my old favorite fics as a way to cheer up after work I figured why not. This list will be long... and varied but mostly its older fics cuz idk there my favs. Now lets go:

Fashion Upgrade - By @soap-lady : Straight up one of my favorite fics ever, its fun, its creative, it never fails to make me laugh when I need something warm and wholesome after a bad day. Also go check out the rest of her stuff there's so much good okay like shes just a writing queen. Shes on AO3 I don't want to spoil you on her other stuff just GO experience it for yourself.

Ode To Decoy pt 1 / 2 / 3 - By @a-marlene-s : Ive always liked this short sweet little fic about Lila getting caught. Its Lila + class salt though so avoid if that's not your flavor.

EVERYTHING - By @unmaskedagain : They have salt, they have sugar, they have funny, they have crossovers. Like honestly they are a just a great writer with so much variety so go check out the masterlist I linked and I guarantee there will be something there you like.

@ravennm84 Is a writer on the saltier side but they have a wonderful selection of weird wacky tales from the salty but oh so well written Damning Evidence that sees Lila get caught in the best way to the 3 part Horror inspired Serafina other great fics from them include Marinettes Family Court Circus pt 1 / 2 and Of Moldy Bread and Cockroaches / Be Kind to Servers honestly its worth giving there blog a look.

@mochinek0 Is another writer with several beloved fics. They write a lot of Maribat and we love them for it. Ones to check out would be Blind Date / Bruce vs Gabriel just go check out there tag list of daminette for more.

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette - By @lady-literature : This is a wonderful idea and a wonderful little fic and I just... I just like it okay. Sadly I haven't read a lot of there other stuff... But I might after finishing this list considering how much I enjoy this one.

@nobodyfamousposts I love a LOT of there fics. They are one of the best when it comes to striking that sweet spot of calling out the show for some of its garbage while not getting so salty that you cant have fun lighthearted goodness. I have been looking for a masterlist of there work but cant find one so just go stalk there tags. I do recommend there Chloe's Lament Series 1 / 2 exploring how certain 'wishes' would backfire. Guardian Assistant Kevin is also a good one Miracle Queen Aftermath pt 1 / 2 / The 8 parter Burn the Witch series / The Wisdom Teeth Reveal / Kagami Vs The Wall of Faces / Resigning With Grace & Spite / I tried to give a lot of links cuz they have a lot of stuff

Kill Them With Kindness - By @luki-fanfic : Well written, good salt without going overboard. Just good vibes. I havent stalked there other stuff but if its anything like this fic its probably excellent quality.

Stephen Vladislav pt 1 / 2 - By @stormiclown : Adrien centered salt on the idea of finally giving Adrien his own proper rival. I like the idea of Adrien having a rival because its usually Marinette and this was just the right length to get those creative ideas flowing. Also just well written what more can you ask for.

Power Trip - By @storygirl000 : This was the first fic that made me go... Wait would it be more fun if Lila was actually competent? And that set me on the path to writing my own fics where Lila is more villainous and more capable. Its short, well written. Good.

Your Wish is My Command - By DemiGoddess28 on AO3 : A great 11 chapter fic looking into Lila's life if she were to win and get a miraculous wish. Its got sugary goodness for our protagonists and the class and salt for our dearest friend Lila.

LadyBugOut AU - By Miraculous-Content on AO3 : A 50 chapter fic made up of snippets and ideas. I found it really inspiring in many ways. I also love how it redeems Marinettes classmates showing how and why they were tricked but holding them accountable anyway its just... Good.

Juleka vs The Forces of the Universe - By goldenlaurelleaves on AO3 : For those of us not yet ready to accept the death of luka/mari we have this wonderful fic showing Juleka being the biggest wingman as she helps these idiots find there way together.

ChaoticNeutral on AO3 has there own Chloe's Lament fic as well as a Gabriel's Lament fic for people who need sweet salty of those two characters.

BroadwayCutie16 was Inspired by the person above and DemiGoddesses your wish is my command fic to write Lila's Lament fic going over Lilas failed wish. Honestly I always love these fics because there just so interesting and the way wishes can be taken and twisted is always a fascinating idea to me.

#WayneAngel - By Tired-Writing-Teach on AO3 : For us Maribat lovers. Its fun and lighthearted with some good gags and some light fluff.

Damian in Paris - By Lilliesandliveries on AO3 : A sweet Maribat series showing what would happen if Damian ran away from home and found himself in Paris and getting therapy.

How a Demon Commissions an Angel - By AlixAnonymous : Damian blackmails Marinette into letting him be her client so he can get his bros the best gifts, they end up becoming penpal buddies.

Mythomania - By LadyEnna_50 on AO3 : Proof that I dont hate Adrien or Mari/Adrien. In this fic Adrien's spine gets titanium plating and he sees just how bad Lila is hurting Marinette and does something about it.

The Contingency - By AbyssalGuardian on AO3 : SALT. Also Tim/Mari but even still I love the way this was written, the style, and some of the ideas just ugh love it. Its not for those who dont like salt so just avoid at your own discretion. Its about a chaotic Marinette done with her life running away to Gotham where she meets her true black cat, and gets her life back on track.

The String That Binds Us - By FaithAndATypeWriter on AO3 : Okay so is there any Mari/Bat fan who hasnt already heard of this one? Who cares its good, its cute, I love it. May the author be blessed with snacks.

The Great IKEA Game - By @batsandbugs : Okay again... I think every Mari/Bat fan has probably heard of this one already because its just that good and that popular. But who cares I am recommending it anyway. Don't read if your allergic to fun I guess.

If this list still doesn't somehow have enough salt for you then try @goggles-mcgee fics here is a link to there Masterlist. They are in a way a professional at salt and angst and they make you want to adopt Marinette and pop her in a blanket fort.

Honestly I could keep going but this list already feels so long for other great recs though I can link you to @jayphoenic who has some great Daminette Fic Recs and some Lila Salt Fic Recs!

Feel free to reblog this and add some links to stuff you would think I or others might like! Also lets just acknowledge how many talented authors the community has like wow.

#its just me #miraculous ladybug #not my fic #fic rec #lila salt #dc x mlb #daminette #kagaminette #adrienette #lukanette #ml salt #adrien salt

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deathbyhertouch · 10 months ago

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Kinktober 2024 list

all of these will be shorter fics, as i need multiple days for the normal longer fics i usually do

characters will be a surprise! as i think it will be fun!

I will update links to each post as i release them

hope you enjoy!!

day 1: squirting Phoebe Bridgers x f!reader

day 2: bondage Katie Gavin x gn!reader

day 3: mirror Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

day 4: hair pulling Hope Van Dyne x f!reader

day 5: free use Sasha James x afab!reader

day 6: public Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

day 7: threesome Emily Prentiss x f!reader x Jennifer Jereau

day 8: milf!reader x daughter’s girlfriend Milf!reader x Daughter's Girlfriend! Jo Maskin

day 9: dirty talk Basira Hussain x gn!reader

day 10: sex pollen Yelena Belova x f!reader

day 11: creampie (g!p) Julien Baker x f!reader

day 12: power Agatha Harkness x gn!reader

day 13: spanking/impact play Naomi McPherson x f!babydoll!reader

day 14: corruption Chloe ST200 x afab!reader

day 15: somnophilia Lucy Dacus x gn!reader

day 16: sloppy/ spit Steve Rogers x f!reader

day 17: praise Danny Wagner x f!reader

day 18: thigh riding Jackie Taylor x gn!reader

day 19: cockwarming (g!p)

day 20: hate fuck

day 21: perversion

day 22: lactation

day 23: choking

day 24: uniform

day 25: food

day 26: monsterfucker

day 27: deity

day 28: pantysniffer

day 29: sex toy

day 30: breeding

day 31: body worship/aftercare

fandoms that will be included for this (please comment if you want another one included)

-boygenius

-criminal minds

-muna

-brooklyn 99

-marvel

-detroit become human

-the magnus archives

-yellowjackets

-greta van fleet

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gguk-n · 1 year ago

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Eternal Luxury (Arthur Leclerc x fwb!reader)

[Part 2 of Luxury in Love's blind spot]

Part 1

Summary- Maybe falling in love with your friends with benefit wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[Reader's POV]

"Eww, your moustache is showing" Lance whispered in my ear. "At least one of us can grow facial hair" I retorted. "I'll have you know, this is a goatee, and it's my choice" he grumbled. I couldn't help but smile. We were at a business party held by my family and Lance's family were our guests. I was only acquainted to Lance a year back when our families decided to do business together. He was an absolute menace; I didn't ask for another brother but I got one. We were constantly bickering. But a new found friendship really helped me forget about my heartbreak. Did I forget about Arthur completely? Nope. But having a friend who took care of you helped.

"You should come to the race this weekend" Lance whispered. I'd never been to one, but I really wanted to go since forever; all my insecurities started to bubble up when I asked, "Would it be ok? you know, if I came" I asked. He looked at me quizzically, "I'm inviting my friend to watch me race" I thought about it for a moment before replying, "I want Aston Martin merch to wear to the race and pictures and autograph from Fernando Alonso" "I thought you were gonna ask me for an Aston Martin" he laughed. "Oh no, I don't need that; I got one as a birthday gift this year" I responded earnestly. "And they call me a nepo baby" he mumbled. "Hey! Grandpa said it was my birthday present" I hissed.

I showed up to the race in my Aston Martin, at the same time as Lance. I got out of the car and was greeted by Lance. "You brought your Aston Martin?" he asked. "Couldn't show up in a Ferrari now, could I" I whispered giving him a hug. "Let's go. I'm so excited. I even did my nails green, LOOK" I exclaimed. "I see why you and Chloe are friends" he chucked. We walked into the paddock together, while I spoke to him animatedly and Lance signed a couple autographs. People can be quite mean, I heard some 'fans' say some offensive shit. "Is it really not okay if i punched a few people? I mean you could bail me out" I huffed. "I'm not bailing you out from a foreign prison" he snickered. "You're no fun" I grumbled.

On the way to the Aston Martin hospitality, my eyes met Arthur's in the Ferrari hospitality. I instinctively grabbed Lance's arm and speed walked away. "Woman, what was that for?" he questioned. "Really wanted to meet Fernando" I said while looking around. He squinted his eyes at me before speaking, "Did you have a one night stand with some driver?" "What? No" I replied in disbelief, the shock exaggerated. Lance shook his head, "Just don't let the media know. They'll have a field day" he said while walking in.

Today was race day, so Lance was busy with some media and prepping for the race. I had met Alonso and almost embarrassed myself with the fangirl moment I had but he was quite nice and entertained me like you would a child. I decided to get some snacks while I waited for the race to start. On my way back while munching on my pretzel in one hand and my cold drink in another; I was stopped by none other than Arthur. "Can we talk?" he asked. "You tell me" I replied. "I had something to say to you and I haven't been able to reach you" he muttered. "Yeah, well, I have you blocked every where" I retorted. He pleaded with me for a couple minutes of my time.

"Go on" I prompted. "Okay" he sighed, "Just hear me out, then you can say whatever you like" he continued. I nodded my head. "I know I don't deserve a chance and you're with Lance now, but after the day you confessed" I interjected, "I'm not seeing Lance. He's a friend" I wanted to hit myself, why'd I say that. The saying you are blinded by love is right. "Oh" he visibly seeming to relax before continuing "I haven't been able to get you out of my head. I tried contacting you but it was of no use. I hoped I'd run into you in Monaco but you never showed. I kept up with the tabloids to know what you were up to." I cut him off, "Get to the point, Arthur" "Yes, sorry for the rambling. I like you, Y/N. I have for a while I guess. It just took me losing you to realise it" he finished speaking waiting for me to reply. "You told me you didn't feel the same" I commented. "Yes, I know but I was an idiot" he stated. "You hid me, like I was a dirty little secret" I snapped. "That was a mistake. I was stupid. I really have no words to explain myself" he answered gravely. "I'm not a toy you can play around with and then discard once you're bored" I spoke. "No, no please. Give me one chance. I promise I'll make it up. If I can't then I'll never trouble you again." I mulled over the suggestion. "I'm free after the race" I expressed. "Okay, I'll meet you at the entrance at 7?" he asked. I gave him a thumbs up before leaving.

-------------------------------------------

Arthur had booked a fancy restaurant for us. I did have an outfit change because he requested me to dress up and that he wanted to take me out properly. The car ride there was quite, we spoke about the changes in our lives since we last met. At the restaurant, he opened the car door for me, the restaurant door for me and even pulled up my chair. The bar is on the floor I thought while cooing at all his actions. We ordered our food and waited around. The place was beautiful, the light cast a warm hue all across, the flowers were few and far between but pretty enough to give a romantic ambiance. I stared at a couple across from us where the boy held onto to his girlfriend's hand while he ate. "How's work?" Arthur asked, breaking me out of my thought. "yeah, it's been good. Made new friends so it's exciting." we kept the small talk up until dinner was over.

Arthur looked at me with a mix of vulnerability and longing, "You know when I said I didn't feel the same, I thought I was saving our friendship. I didn't know how much I would miss you and miss not having you around, watching you smile or laugh at stupid memes. I never realised how much I missed having you close" I listened to him intently with hope and caution, "I understand. I always wondered what could've been. I never truly moved on, you know. It wasn't easy for the both of us, but being here and listening to you; I just, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions. Part of me wants to believe that maybe just maybe we could make it work. But I'm scared and I don't want to get my hopes up." Arthur's trembling hands reached for mine, "I don't want to hurt you. I tried suppressing my feeling but seeing you today with Lance just made everything so real. I realised I didn't want to see you with anyone but me" I patted his hand, taking a moment to process it all, "I...don't know what to say. I never expected this. But I can't deny that a part of me feels the same. Maybe....maybe we could take things slow. See where it leads us. But you gotta promise me something, that we'll be honest with each other; going forward." I said. He nodded along, "I promise. I'll be honest from now on. I just can't imagine losing you again" he whispered. "Okay, let's give this a chance. But remember this won't be easy. We'll have to work together and navigate this path together. Are you ready?" I smiled softly. "I'm ready if you are. You are worth every risk" he said while bringing my hands to his lips and kissing the both of them, one at a time. I leaned in and pecked his cheek. Before I could sit back down. Arthur got up slightly, cupping my cheeks and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I promise to keep you happy as long as I'm alive" he said poignantly. "I'll hold you to it" I replied while holding his hands.

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coldkidcookieneck · 1 month ago

Text

Title: Collateral Attraction

Summary: A stupid dare. A locked house. A very armed, very grumpy Frank Benson. She was supposed to run, not come back for coffee.

Author's note: Hi, my dear readers! This is my very first Frank Benson story, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy the chaotic tension, awkward flirting, and soft banter as much as I did! Please let me know what you think 😉

Pairing: Frank Benson x Fem Reader

Warnings: Language and Mild Violence

Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 here

Cross posted on AO3

===========================================

Your living room smelled like takeout, cheap rosé, and candle wax from the third failed attempt to light the "Happy Birthday" sparkler cake. Streamers clung to the ceiling fan like casualties of war, and glitter was everywhere — a sure sign that your best friends, Chloe, Liam, and Amanda, had taken over décor duty.

“You’re officially 22,” Chloe declared, handing you your third slice of pizza like it was your birthright. “Time to do something legendary before the night’s over.”

“Legendary how?” you asked, wiping sauce off your chin.

Chloe’s grin was pure chaos. “Truth or dare.”

You barely had time to protest before everyone was already sitting cross-legged on the floor, drinks in hand, the tension building like a bad horror score. The first few rounds were harmless: someone drank hot sauce, another admitted to kissing their cousin’s boyfriend. Then it was your turn again.

“Dare,” you said, full of birthday bravado.

Chloe’s eyes gleamed. “I dare you… to sneak into General Frank Benson’s house and get out again. Without him noticing.”

The room froze.

Even the playlist paused like Spotify itself whispered: “Girl, no.”

“You’re joking,” you blinked, halfway between laughing and throwing your pizza.

Amanda screeched, “That’s a literal suicide mission! Have you seen that man? He probably sleeps with a bayonet under his pillow!”

Liam leaned forward, solemn as a war general. “Then I’ll command the mission. You’re my agent. I’ll be in your ear. Like the hot ones in spy movies.”

Chloe held up her hand like she was swearing into Congress. “Five hundred dollars if you do it.”

And suddenly, it wasn’t a joke anymore.

You glanced toward the window — at the looming Victorian next door, shrouded in shadow and pulsing with generational trauma. That was his house. Everyone in the neighborhood knew it: the fortress of General Frank Benson — retired military legend, silver-haired menace, living scarecrow of your childhood.

You’d been afraid of him since you were six. Literally.

Your parents used to weaponize his existence like bedtime folklore.

“If you don’t get home by curfew, the General will snatch you and ship you off to boot camp!” “Don’t run off — Frank Benson might put you in a tank and roll you into a battlefield!”

One Halloween, you dared to ring his doorbell.

He didn’t answer.

But the porch light flickered on.

You screamed so loud you peed a little and ran home with your witch’s hat falling off.

Since then, even walking past his house made you clutch your mom’s hand and whisper apologies to the wind.

But now?

You were older. Bolder. And… just the tiniest bit intrigued.

Especially after the annual neighborhood committee meeting a few months back — the first he’d attended in years.

You remembered it too clearly. He’d walked in wearing a sharp black coat, silver hair slicked back, eyes cold and assessing like he was planning battle formations. He barely spoke — but when he did, his voice was low and gravelly and cut through the chatter like a bullet through glass.

And something inside you shifted.

You weren’t afraid anymore.

You were… fascinated.

And maybe, okay, kind of into the whole grumpy, emotionally disturbed war-daddy thing.

“Come on,” Chloe was saying now, waving her phone like a stopwatch. “He’s probably not even home. Just sneak in, sneak out. Easy. We’ll be waiting by the back gate with your victory pizza slice.”

Amanda looked like she was going to throw up from secondhand panic. “If she gets arrested, I’m not bailing her out. But I will organize a candlelight vigil.”

Liam saluted dramatically. “For honor. For glory. For the birthday girl.”

Your heart pounded. Your brain screamed are you serious, but your ego — freshly 22, slightly tipsy, and painfully susceptible to peer pressure — just whispered:

Let’s do it.

“…Fine,” you muttered, pushing off the couch and finishing your wine like it was armor. “But if I get court-martialed, I’m haunting all of you forever.”

Chloe whooped. “Operation: Birthday Break-In is a GO!”

“Okay, squad. Stick to the plan. Eyes sharp. Feet quiet. Asses low.”

Liam crouched behind the overgrown rhododendron bush like he was auditioning for Mission Impossible- Suburban Edition, holding a plastic cup of wine like it was a grenade. Amanda was huddled beside him, just out of sight from Frank Benson’s back fence.

Chloe, ever your partner in crime, adjusted her hoodie like she was going to war. “I swear if I die out here, I want ‘Dare Queen’ on my gravestone.”

“I’m already designing the shirt,” Amanda whispered, pulling out her phone to record. “You two are legends in the making. If this goes viral, I want credit.”

You glared at her, “If this goes to prison, I want a decent lawyer.”

Everyone else chuckled nervously. The stakes were stupidly low and yet wildly high. You peeked past the bush.

Frank Benson’s house loomed at the end of the yard — tall, dark, dignified. A once-white Victorian that had surrendered to time: ivy clung to its brick like secrets, and its turreted attic window glared down at the street like a silent sentry. The back of the house had a small porch with a flickering light and two steps leading down to a mossy stone path. Two gnarled oak trees flanked the yard like bodyguards.

You could see three windows on the ground floor: one half-open, one shut tight, and one obscured by heavy drapes.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Liam said, dragging a stick through the dirt like a military strategist. “You two — that’s you, birthday girl, and Chloe — take the side gate, sneak across the back yard, and go through the half-open window. It’s probably the kitchen. You go in, sneak to the other side of the house, and come out through the sunroom window on the east side. That’s the one facing the hedge. We’ll be posted there with flashlights and pizza, ready to pull you out and declare victory.”

“Simple enough,” Chloe muttered, tying her hair up. “Break in, sneak across, break out. No blood, no alarms.”

“Exactly,” Amanda said, filming you in selfie-mode now. “Tonight’s forecast: 30% chance of arrest, 70% chance of glory. Let’s go.”

You inhaled sharply. The house looked still. No lights in the upstairs windows. No movement.

“Alright,” you said, pulse quickening. “Let’s do this.”

The gate creaked as you and Chloe slipped through, then padded silently across the dew-covered grass. You both wore black hoodies and sneakers, looking like the worst-dressed spies imaginable. You paused at the half-open window.

Chloe gave it a gentle push. It opened with a soft screeetch.

You winced.

“…That sounded like a horror movie door,” she whispered.

“Keep going,” you hissed, heart hammering.

The kitchen was exactly what you imagined Frank Benson’s kitchen would look like: neat, cold, and full of sharp corners. The countertops were spotless. The lights were off. There was a kettle on the stove — black and steel — and a single mug next to it, like he was halfway into making tea for one.

You stepped inside first, Chloe right behind you. Your feet made the faintest sound on the tile. You both paused, eyes wide.

Nothing.

Just the faint tick… tick… of an old grandfather clock somewhere deeper in the house.

“Alright,” Chloe breathed. “East side window. Let’s move.”

You crept through the kitchen and into a narrow hallway with wooden floors. On your right was a darkened sitting room, all leather armchairs and old bookshelves. On your left was what looked like a dining room, table polished, a lone set of dog tags resting on the center dish. You glanced at them — initials etched in metal. F.B.

Your stomach twisted. You felt like an intruder.

Because you were.

“Chloe,” you whispered. “I think we should—”

You didn’t finish the sentence.

Because you tripped on the edge of the hallway rug.

Your foot slipped.

You fell like a plank of wood.

Chloe toppled after you, landing hard on your back with a loud thump.

You both froze.

Tick… tick…

Creaaaak.

There was a sound from upstairs.

A door opened.

Floorboards groaned under heavy footsteps.

Then — light.

A hallway light flicked on.

And footsteps began descending the staircase fast.

“OH MY GOD!” Chloe hissed, jumping off you and scrambling toward the sunroom.

“I found the exit, hurry up!” she cried, pulling open a window.

You staggered up, adrenaline surging.

But it was too late.

A shadow lunged down the stairs, and before you could reach the exit, a strong hand grabbed your arm, spun you around, and slammed you down on the floor with a practiced, efficient force.

You yelped, wind knocked from your lungs.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” a voice barked.

It was gravel and thunder, and it made the air vibrate.

The figure above you slammed the sunroom window shut with one hand, blocking Chloe’s exit route as she screamed your name from outside.

He turned on the light.

And there he was.

General Frank Benson.

Silver-haired, towering, broad-shouldered in a black t-shirt and loose sweatpants — but somehow still looking like he could command a battalion. His jaw was clenched, eyes sharp and full of fury. There was a glint of something silver in his hand — a gun. Not pointed at you, but very, very present.

You blinked up at him, stunned into silence, face flushed from the fall, the fear, the fact that he was... ridiculously hot in this lighting.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled. “And what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing in my house?”

You gulped, lips trembling, and scrambled to explain.

“Sir—it was a dare! A stupid $500 birthday dare! I swear, I didn’t mean any harm—my friends dared me to sneak in and out—I didn’t even think you were home—I tripped—Chloe—Chloe was supposed to—”

He glared at you, nostrils flaring, eyes scanning your face like a threat assessment.

“...A dare?” he repeated, incredulous. “You break into my house... for five hundred bloody dollars?!”

Frank Benson was halfway through pouring himself a cup of Earl Grey when he heard it.

Thump.

His entire body froze.

He didn’t move — not at first. Years in combat zones taught him that reacting too soon was how you got killed. First came the listen. Then came the lock.

He strained his ears. There it was again. A scrape. A muffled whisper. Someone — two someones — moving in his home.

His jaw tightened. The mug was already back on the counter, untouched.

He moved.

Fast. Silent. Lethal.

A shadow ghosting up from the kitchen to the hallway. His left hand grabbed the pistol off the console drawer near the stairs — muscle memory. His right flicked on the light in a single fluid motion as he descended the staircase in three thunderous steps.

Footsteps.Too light for a grown man.Maybe teens. Maybe a weapon. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter — unknown is a threat until proven otherwise.

He saw movement in the hallway and bolted forward — years of force recon training kicking in. His body moved before his brain could catch up.

Target. Two. Female. Not armed. One tripped. Second, trying to run—

He grabbed the first — you — and brought you down with a sharp twist of the arm and shoulder, pinning you hard but careful, just enough pressure to restrain without crush.

You yelped.

The girl in the hoodie outside screamed and fumbled at the sunroom window.

He snapped it shut with one arm, blocking her escape route, then pointed the gun not at you, but toward the floor — visible. A warning. His voice followed, deep and sharp like thunder cracking open the sky:

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Your eyes were wide, terrified, blinking up at him like prey caught in headlights.

No weapon. No mask. Just panic. Not a threat. Not yet.

He exhaled slow, steadied the beast inside.

“Who the hell are you,” he growled, “and what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing in my house?”

You stammered, breath shaking. "Sir—it was a dare! A stupid $500 birthday dare! I swear, I didn’t mean any harm—my friends dared me to sneak in and out—I didn’t even think you were home—I tripped—Chloe—Chloe was supposed to—”

Frank stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

A fucking dare? Jesus Christ.

“You break into my house... for five hundred bloody dollars?!”

You nodded weakly.

He scoffed, the sound sharp as flint. “You’re lucky I didn’t break your neck. What kind of idiot thinks sneaking into a veteran’s home is a good idea?! You’re lucky I didn’t assume you were a threat and react accordingly.”

God, where do they grow kids like this? Is idiocy contagious?

You opened your mouth again, but he raised a finger — commanding silence.

“And you,” he barked toward the window. “Get your friend back here before I call every emergency service this side of the state line.”

Chloe let out a terrified squeak from outside.

“I—I—sorry!!” she stammered, stumbling back in through the front door, looking white as a sheet.

Frank looked between you and Chloe, eyes narrowing, jaw grinding. Then… something shifted.

His posture eased. Not soft, but no longer a threat.

“You’re the kid that used to hide behind your mum whenever I walked past,” he said slowly.

Your eyes widened. “You remember that?”

He chuckled — a low, rasping sound, like a car engine after too long in the cold. “Hard to forget a child who screamed like she saw a ghost every Halloween.”

Of course, I remember. You were the little,wide-eyed thing who used to cry if you saw me in uniform. Your mum once said they used me as a bedtime threat — ‘Come home before dark or General Benson will send you to boot camp.’ Bloody hell. I’ve become the neighbourhood bogeyman.

“I—um—I guess I did…”

He stood straighter, lowering the gun to his side — no longer threat-mode, but still on edge.

“So now you’re all grown up and sneaking around my yard,” he muttered, giving you a long, appraising look.

You’re not a kid anymore. That much is obvious. Hair’s longer. Lips trembling. That’s a woman’s jacket, not a school uniform. Goddamn. She’s trembling like I’m going to arrest her. I should. But hell, if this isn’t the most excitement I’ve had in months.

Then your next words caught him off guard.

“I… I saw you at the committee meeting.”

You blushed fiercely, gaze darting away. “I… I saw you at the committee meeting.”

He blinked once. Twice.

Ah. That’s it.

Not a dare. Not really. Curiosity. Maybe something more.

Shit. He shouldn’t let that twist of intrigue hit him. But there it was.

He gave a small smirk. Nothing warm — just sharp. Teasing. Testing.

“Well,” he muttered, holstering the gun, “if you wanted to know what’s inside my house so badly… next time just knock. Like a normal bloody person.”

You stared. Then let out a weak, nervous laugh.

Chloe looked like she wanted to disappear into the nearest plant.

Frank folded his arms. “Tell your friends you managed to ‘escape’ through the back window. Go get your prize money. And get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

You hesitated, still rattled. Your gaze flicked to the door. But Frank was watching you closely now.

Your flushed cheeks. Your parted lips. The way your chest rose and fell in the silence.

She’s not a kid anymore. That realisation sank in like cold water down the back of his neck. Christ, I shouldn’t even be thinking that.

He paused.

Then, quieter: “...Happy birthday, by the way.”

Your head whipped up. “How did you—?”

He lifted a brow. “You think I don’t know what the neighborhood kids are up to? Liam and Amanda aren’t exactly CIA material.”

He turned and walked back into the shadows of the hallway, the light fading behind him.

And you were left standing there in his kitchen, adrenaline still high, heart pounding, and the terrifying realisation that the man you once feared… now occupied a very different corner of your imagination.

You and Chloe locked eyes—both pale, panting, done.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered.

You didn’t answer. You were already running.

You ran like hell.

Straight out the side gate, heart hammering, hair sticking to your forehead, lungs burning like a bonfire lit under your ribs. You didn’t even realize your knees were scraped until your friends came sprinting from the alleyway, cheering like lunatics.

“YOU SURVIVED!”

“Oh my god, she did it!”

“You better have filmed it, Chloe—wait, where’s Chloe?”

Chloe came jogging a moment later, wheezing. “He looked at me and I panicked! Like—retired general death glare level ten!”

You wheezed out a breathless laugh-slash-sob and stumbled into Amanda’s arms, who immediately started shaking you like a maraca.

“YOU LEGEND!! YOU JUST EARNED FIVE. HUNDRED. DOLLARS. Do you know how many bubble teas that is?!”

Liam tossed a hoodie over your shoulders like it was a medal of honor.

“General Frank Freaking Benson. The man who made our dads stand up straighter at neighborhood barbecues. You just walked into his den and LIVED. What was it like? What did he say? Did you get a peek at his kitchen? Was it cold and terrifying? Did he say anything like, ‘You have 10 seconds to explain before I neutralize you’?”

You stared at them, still breathless, trying to piece together the shock and the adrenaline and the very real fact that you had just been pinned down by Frank Benson’s arms, and that he had remembered you, and that he had said—

“…Happy birthday, by the way.”

Inside the house, Frank stood at the second-floor window.

Lights off.

Curtains parted.

Just him, silently watching the gaggle of chaotic teens erupt into hugs and fist bumps and high-fives.

Idiots, he thought. No sense of danger. No sense of consequences.Except her.

His eyes found you — standing just slightly apart from the group, hand still hovering near your arm where he’d grabbed you, eyes a little far-off. Processing.

He felt it in his chest. A sharp, quiet pull.

She looked at me like I was a monster. But now... not quite.That’s the look someone gives when the monster turns out to be a man.

He frowned.

Backed away from the window.

She’ll stay away now. They always do.Good. Better that way.

He turned, heading for the stairs.

So why the hell am I still standing here thinking about her?

You’re still catching your breath when Chloe grabs your arm like a human grappling hook.

“Say nothing about the gun. Just look cool. Say you Mission: Impossible’d your way in and out. Got it?”

You nod. Kind of.

Back at the house, your friends are waiting with pizza crumbs, half-filled cups, and $500 in a cereal box because apparently Liam thought that was “stealthy.”

“SO?”

“Did you do it?”

“Did you survive General Doom himself?!”

You glance at Chloe.

She does the tiniest nod.

And you go full Bond Girl.

“Yeah. Slipped in through the side window, skirted the dining room, ducked when I heard footsteps. Almost got caught. But didn’t.”

The group goes feral.

Liam throws the $500 at you like confetti. Amanda screams into a pillow. Someone cranks up music again and shoves a slice of pizza into your mouth mid-laugh.

Only Chloe sees how you keep glancing out the window.

The Next Morning

You knocked on his door at 8:13 a.m.

Why?

Because you couldn’t sleep.

Because your guilt was loud.

Because something about him—his voice, his eyes, the way he hadn’t yelled just to yell—was still stuck to your skin like aftershave.

The door opened a sliver, and there he was.

Sleep-ruffled hair. T-shirt and sweats. No weapon in sight, just an eyebrow raised like a challenge.

“You again,” he said flatly.

“I—um—just wanted to say thank you. For not calling the police. Or yelling louder. Or shooting.”

Frank stared at you.

Then let out a breath that sounded like half a laugh, half a groan.

“You’re here to say thank you for trespassing?”

You winced. “Also to tell you that I got the $500.”

His eyes narrowed. “And that’s supposed to impress me?”

You grinned. “No. I was thinking I could treat you to something. As an apology-slash-celebration. Coffee? Bagels? Explosives?”

A beat.

Then Frank opened the door a little wider and leaned against the frame.

“You really think I’d let a little idiot like you buy me breakfast?”

You shrugged. “I mean, you tackled me. So I figure we’re close now.”

He smirked. A very dangerous, very warm smirk.

“…Next time,” he said, “let me be the gentleman.”

Your heart may have actually skipped.

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, and shut the door again.

But not before giving you one last glance—measured, curious, not entirely annoyed.

You walked home lighter.

Still scraped, still bruised, still $500 richer.

But also—

Something had started.

You just didn’t know what yet.

He leaned against the door after it closed, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

That damn kid. That crooked grin. That stupid, reckless heart.

He should’ve been furious. Still could be. But instead...

He sighed.

“…Coffee,” he muttered to himself. “God help me.”

Then he went to put on real pants.

EPILOGUE

Local Café | Two Days Later

The coffee shop smelled like cinnamon, burnt espresso, and bad decisions.

You sat across from him, two mugs between you. Yours was adorned with whimsical doodles and the phrase “Espresso Yourself.” His was a plain, no-nonsense black ceramic mug. Classic.

You stirred your latte three times before sipping. “So...General, do you come here often, or only when you’re guilt-tripped by teenage gremlins who trespass on your property?”

Frank raised an eyebrow over his coffee. “I’m still deciding if this is penance or a government experiment.”

You smirked.

He came. He actually showed up. On time, no less. He still looks like a man who has backup plans for backup plans. But his jacket’s unzipped. His hair’s still a little windblown. He looks… less like a warning label. More like a question mark. And I’m not sure if I want the answer or the chase.

He didn’t smile. Not exactly. But his eyes? They didn’t look away.

She’s nervous. She’s trying not to show it, but she is. And yet she’s here. After everything. After the fence hop, the bruises, the chaos. She sat down across from me like it wasn’t a death wish. Like maybe… she wanted to. Idiot kid. Brave kid. Dammit.

A beat passed. Then you slid your phone across the table. The lock screen was a screenshot of your bank app. $500.00. Still untouched.

“Proof I haven’t spent the blood money yet,” you said.

Frank leaned back, arms crossed. “Didn’t say you had to keep it.”

You tilted your head. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

He huffed—something between a scoff and a laugh. “Troublemaker.”

You grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

And for the briefest moment, in the lazy warmth of a café too small to hold this much tension, something softened. Not broken. Just… bent. In a good way.

Two mugs.

One look.

No promises.

Just the beginning of something slightly stupid.

But maybe… worth it.

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#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #frank benson #frank benson x reader #eye in the sky

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