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#and I also have been known to joke about my own weird taste

writtingsomestuff · 8 months

Note

Hiii!! How are you? Can I ask for a jude request where both the reader and him go on Ridiculousness and it’s just all fluff and jokes, thanks anyway

Hi! You're so sweet for asking me how I am, sending you lots of love <3

I hope you like this imagine and also, I had to look up for "Ridiculousness" so, yeah I found the program.

Okay guys, I just wrote this on my hometown's bar and it's 3:00 am, and I'm finally going home. GOOD NIGHT!!!

A cute evening - Jude Bellingham

gif not mine

Jude Bellingham x fem!reader Warnings: none ig

After a horrible year as a student, you knew that your dream of entering Oxford for a degree was disappearing. Having accepted this reality after months debating with your own self, you decided to apply for a university in Spain, this way you would complete your dream of meeting the country and its cities, and you would end up getting that degree (if you worked hard enough) anyway.

Little did she know that the capital of Spain would end up gifting her soulmate. Jude Bellingham was a famous, very well known footballer, he was considered a wonder since he showed his skills from a very young age. Cupid, unexpectedly, reunited that small promising football player “made in Birmingham” with a bookworm and future painter y/n from y/c/n.

Jude and her experienced that type of “love at first sight”, as her cousin named it, they met in a discreet cafeteria, not very far from the Bernabéu. They bumped into each other when she was coming out from the ladies’ restroom and he was looking for the gentlemen's one,

They both shared simple tastes in series and movies, as well as in social media humor, they connected since the first time they laid their eyes on each other and they were building their relationship in the best way they knew. However, they also had their differences but both were mature enough to communicate with each other, and talk about them, instead of giving their love up.

During a hot summer evening at Jude’s house, after a Real Madrid win in La Liga, he invited her to his home, where they spent some nights together. The first night was weird and distant, but little by little, they improved over time. Although the climate outside was almost suffocating, with the air conditioner, the couple was able to cuddle while they laughed out loud together. The videos were hilarious, but soon their laughs calmed down, especially y/n’s, until not a single sound could be heard from her, except her breathing.

Jude found the joke so funny that it was weird for him to not hear laugh about it, who could laugh at any small thing. He looked at her curiously, normally she’d be laughing, and found her sleeping. Her day had been tiring, all night studying, meeting in the morning and lunch with her co-employees’; it was a “complete day”. He slowly moved, trying to not wake her up, and as soon as he got up from the sofa, he quickly went upstairs.

When the bed was ready, Jude went back to the living room to pick her up, her clothes, a casual look, were comfortable enough so he considered them as appropriate to sleep. Once she was in the bed, he picked up a cotton with make up remover to clean up her face, something he noticed that she always did.

Jude wasn’t ready for bed yet, therefore, after leaving a small kiss on her left cheek, he left the room quietly, and made his way to the kitchen to prepare enough food, in case you would wake up.

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sl-vega · 2 months

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✧xingqiu's victims friends✧

THIS SERIES IS CANCELLED: announcement about its cancellation

THE SERIES REVAMP IS HERE

✧xingqiu✧-a creative writing major with a minor in literature, second born son of the CEO of Feiyun Corp. discovered his love and reading and writing at a young age. when he was 10 he wrote a fanfic as a joke but to his surprise it went viral. he forgot the account's password so he never got around to deleting it. comes off as an absolute gentleman, but he's actually a bit of a gremlin.

"me? putting chili powder into chongyun's food? what baseless accusations are these-okay fine, i did, but how else is he supposed to survive living with xiangling?-"

✧xiangling✧-attends a culinary school nearby teyvat university. she does the cooking but not cleaning for all her roommates. she has a pet dog named guoba, and her father owns a famous restaurant. she's known for her weird sounding recipes, but they actually taste really good (except for the slime smoothies, that's an acquired taste)

"so we have jueyun chilis, fowl meat, now we just need some some slime secretations!"

✧chongyun✧-mythological studies major with a minor in theology. he went through a ghost hunting phase when he was younger, which turned into an interest in mythology and folklore as he got older. he met xingqiu in elementary school and they've been friends ever since (even though xingqiu constanly tries to sneak him spicy food)

"i know for a fact that xingqiu put jueyun chilis in that"

✧yanfei✧-a student at a law school nearby xiangling's culinary school. she's great at winning arguments/debates, and already has tons of internship offers from many different law firms. she has tons of rules/laws memorized just in case, and can apply them to any situation

"Ah, this weather's got me in the mood for reciting some laws. Let's see... "Commercial Law of Liyue," Chapter 27, Section 6, Article 3 stipulates that— Wait, what was it...? Oh my goodness, I've completely forgotten! What is wrong with me today...?"

✧hu tao✧-forensics science major, and her family owns a funeral parlor (frequently advertises it, telling people that she can hook them up with a free coffin). a bit eccentric, but she means well. she's also a horror and true crime fanatic (criminal minds, forensic files etc.)

"YOU! YES YOU! what if i told you, that if you plan with wangsheng funeral parlor today you can get a discount on your future coffin!"

✧gaming✧-dance major, and a part time uber driver and the designated driver for every outing with his friends. he's the type of driver that talks a ton to his passenger, but he'll shut up if needed. most of his passengers mispronounce his name upon pick up, and he's very used to jokes about his name.

"hi i'll be your driver for today-hm? yes, my name is actually gaming"

additional notes:

-everyone is in their sophmore (second year) of university (19-20)

-everyone in xingqiu's friend group lives off campus together

-yanfei doesn't attend teyvat university, she is in her second year of law school at oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale

-xiangling attends a culinary school nearby oratrice and teyvat university

-xingqiu's a wattpad author. fight me

✧Going off Script✧

synopsis:

Xingqiu's next major project requires him to write a romantic short story, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. all you need to do is stick to the script

spoiler alert: you go off script and end up falling for him

masterlist

(CLOSED) taglist: @freyao7

#xingqiu x reader #xingqiu #chongyun #xiangling #yanfei #hu tao #gaming #gaming genshin #university au #smau #enhypen smau #university smau #genshin smau #genshin au #genshin impact #fanfiction #fanfic #romance

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arcaneafterhours · 6 months

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anyway really long list of sbg headcanon time

i have alot so im just gonna dump them all here

oh jeez where to start

-asexual taylor and ben

-unlabeled ashlyn

-bisexual aiden and gay logan

-tyler has intense internalized homophobia but is probably gay

-tyler and ashlyn probably have really similar music taste

-tyler got into indie and rock music in his middleschool years (and probably had a very minor emo phase)

-taylor has really mixed music taste but through tyler she knows a weird amount of lyrics to random songs he listens to all the time i think thats funny

-if you shuffled aidens playlist its the most mixed thing ever you cannot name a genre for it

-aiden also probably listens to his music at full volume casually

-logan listens to things like cavetown no i dont take criticism

-taylor is a morning bird and tyler has the worst sleep schedule known to man she is constantly dragging him out of bed

-(i have so many thoughts about the twins)

-tyler is probably often favored over taylor, and she tries not to let it get to her because she loves her brother but damm!! she isnt just “tylers twin!!” tyler knows about this and feels shitty

-ashlyn knows sign language because of often going nonverbal in youth and ben asked her to teach him

-logan really admires tyler but is too scared to say it

-taylor has lots of interest in music and singing but never went after it

-logan is far tougher than he looks hes just a kind soul

-taylor also played like the clarinet in 6th grade and loved it but quit

-ashlyn accidentally sits/steps on her braids all the time. every day

-ashs favorite holiday is thanksgiving for the food and she is the only one in the group with that sentiment. everyone else loves halloween

-aiden’s love language is gifts. he buys his friends stuff all the time and theyre like “WHAT why how MUCH WAS THIS” and hes just “:]”

-aiden also wears eyeliner. silly goose

-he tried teaching ben how to wear eyeliner and it didnt go well

-aiden has the loudest most disruptive sneeze ever

-ashlyn has a ton of inside jokes with her dad and they would always tell each other to shut up after sneezing (affectionately) and so she just instinctively tells aiden to shut up after aforementioned sneeze

-aiden and taylor were warrior cats kids and bonded over this

-ben and aiden go ice skating!! they have fun racing around on the ice

-ben has a competitive side

-aiden and taylor are also really good at volleyball. Idk man they’re Pals

-taylor braids her hair out of nervous habit she wants to braid ashlyns hair

-ashlyn misplaces her stuff all the time she gets it from her mom

-(this is simply because me and my sister did it when we were little) the twins used to make their own little dance routines to music and perform it for their parents and it was really silly and cute and theres a video somewhere of them doin a little dance together

that one was purely projection

@planetarymesss @rainbowangel110 yall wanted me to tag yall so smdnsnd

ANYWAY thats whats been on my mind recently- i could go on

#school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg #school bus graveyard #420 posts nice

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ihatebnha · 2 years

Note

I went to bed after encouraging you but blue lock icks would be SO good 🎤

so did i, queen! took a nap on my mom's bed like it was an olympic spork and i was winning.

anyway. i only did Gagamaru (for you), Nagi (for that one anon) and Kunigami (for me) bc I wanted to test the waters, but... hope u enjoy regardless!!!

(warning: icks)

Gin Gagamaru

Picks his nose without a tissue

He’s not even doing it to be gross, like he really does want to clean out his nose… he just… won’t use a tissue and says there’s no need to bring him one

Wears basketball shorts from middle school. They barely go down to mid thigh, holes in the ass and everything

Also has severe knife butt and complains when he’s been sitting for too long

You try to brush his hair and it’s all split ends. And he really doesn’t give a single care about it, either. Like... it’s a non-concern for him

Does that dumbass man shit where he’ll walk faster than you when you’re on dates or walks together

Hiking is also a nightmare because he will leave you behind. It’s barely intentional but you’ll stop to have a sip of water and before you know it’s he’s 50 yards ahead of you and hasn’t even noticed you’re behind him

All his socks have holes, too. All of them. You can literally catch him going to bed with one whole big toe sticking out of them

And he literally does not appreciate when you get dressed up. Thinks you’re hot, sexy, attractive, yeah, whatever… but he thinks that all the time, so any effort to look even better is just going straight over his head

“You didn’t have to do that :)” energy. BUT GAGA, I DID

And lowkey you know the joke about the most beautiful girls who walk around with men in jorts and a t-shirt… That’s y’all

Omg and his heels are constantly sticking off the back of his slides and he does that weird thing where… all his sneakers that aren’t in nice condition for soccer… are being crushed inward because he’s too lazy to tie them up regularly and just shoves him foot in😭

And if it looks even remotely like you won’t be able to finish your meal (even if it’s barely been ten minutes), he’s offering to finish it for you

Couple's yoga is a nightmare because even if you’re good at it… he’s better :(

Rensuke Kunigami

Wears the ugliest fucking slides known to man. It’s so bad, no logo or brand or anything… just straight up foam and plastic that get so dirty and make his feet look freaking awful

Incapable of like… not being nice to you. It’s great most of the time, but then he refuses to pick a restaurant, or which shirt he thinks you should wear to dinner… or when you’re going too far in an argument

It does get better with time, but even when he’s grumpy he’s just sitting there pouting all :| because he doesn’t want to cause any problems

And is definitely one of those guys who tries to handle all his own problems himself. You really gotta fight him to make him think that it’s okay to rely on you

Which is ironic given that he’s always demanding that you let him help with all your problems

But that’s what I mean… he’s NICE!!!

And he may be loyal asf also but he definitely does not badmouth any of his exes. He talks about them like they’re his friends, which is fine because they were probably lovely… but it’s like… Ren… why can’t you just say they’re ugly or SOMETHING

Refuses to delete pictures of them off his phone, too… which is actually kinda funny because they’re all old and bad quality, but still. You Do Not Need Those

He’ll also like, LMFAO, try to snatch your phone or computer away from you if he thinks you’re ignoring him. Literally take the device from you no matter what you’re in the middle of, including assignments or work

And when he try to get it back, he refuses and is like, “computers are so bad for your eyes, you know? We should go for a walk instead”

There are other ways to ask!!!

Drinks green smoothies that taste TERRIBLE though he refuses to admit it. He’s constantly trying to convince you they’re so good even though you can tell he’s forcing himself through it for the health benefits rather than the tase

And his farts are also always disgusting, too. For such a perfect guy, it almost seems like all his flaws (and rage) get channeled straight to his guts because they’re absolutely rancid every single time even if he feels so bad about it

Seishiro Nagi

iPad baby (watches his phone at the dinner table sometimes)

Forgets to clip his toenails until you remind him. It’s not even intentional it’s just like… not on his mind at all so they get really long and weird

He always seems grateful for the reminder… but it’s like, Nagi… how and why did you even let it get this bad :(

He does that thing where you’ll say goodnight to each other and then fifteen minutes later you hear his Nintendo switch booting up

And he’ll do it after sexy time too, like ???

He also always forgets you have work/obligations. He’s constantly telling you to skip your shifts as though that’s not almost impossible

“What do you mean you can’t skip work? Just say you won’t go in???”

I don’t want to say he’s a picky eater… but his palette is very childish. He’ll eat grown up stuff but it’s so funny because he just does it in such a boyish way

You guys are talking about what’s for dinner and he’s like, “hm. Can we have rice?”

NAGI? YES???

Literally cannot conceptualize why you’d ever be insecure. You confess to him you don’t like some part of your body and it’s just, “oh, but I like that part” and he genuinely thinks that fixes it

So not helpful

He’s also a great listener… but can’t provide any advice when you’re in a fight with your friends. You can tell him about it all you want because he likes hearing it, but… he’s really not gonna say anything useful about the situation LOOOL

Doesn’t say excuse me when he farts. He’ll just… ignore it completely

And this is Reo’s fault but… he’s really bad when it comes to picking up hints

You try to pull a smooth… “oh, I’d love to go to the beach!”

And he’s just, “Aw well, I hope you get to one day :)”

Really bad at watching films he didn’t pick. Either you’re bored and he’s instantly turning it off, or you’re enjoying it and he’s trying to turn it off anyway

Also… he lets you go through his phone anytime you want to, but… all his twitter likes are strange and his texts with friends are practically incomprehensible.

Has the weirdest taste in memes.

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ashwithapen · 9 months

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dearest little sister,

(CW for referenced/implied self-harm, (underage) alcohol abuse, referenced/implied suicidal ideation, brief use of f slur, r slur, and t slur)

i realised, very recently, that as the older of us two, i am the one who is going to have to be proud of you.

i know, our age difference isn't staggering, but those, what, two years, four months, and two weeks between us is all the difference in the world sometimes. i wonder, deludedly, in the dark of the nights, if it's our age that made me gay and you straight, and me trans and you cis, and me autistic and you not, and me a redhead and you a brunette. two years, four months, and two weeks, and somehow, despite us being siblings, i have never known two so dissimilar people.

i see you, 14 years old, and i see your 15th birthday coming up in a little less than two months. i see you and your trendy cropped tank tops and your loose-fitting jean shorts. i see your tan lines and your mascara and your colour-changing lights. i see you and your mannerisms and your diction and your dances. i see the way you smile and frown, for nobody, and for everybody, but seemingly never for yourself.

i've wondered, over this past year, how you've been so happy, and so successful, and so okay with yourself all this time, never faltering. when i was your age, it was screwdrivers and pencil sharpeners colliding atop the ledge of my shower, greedy, desperate fingers twisting and turning and pulling until silver lept free and fell harshly across my skin the night before halloween. when i was your age, it was the taste of vodka that knew me best, that outlined my midmornings and evenings and late nights and midmornings again and again for the better part of two years. when i was your age, it was instagram group chats with other fangirls who also fancied the idea of death. it was therapy sessions with a woman i didn't like, and forgotten homework that played ocean and tried to drown me repeatedly, and hoodies in the summertime, and realising that christmas lights didn't make me smile anymore.

i wondered, recently. if maybe you are less okay too, but just in your own way. i talked to a boy who plays golf with you. i asked him: "weird question, but how is my sister?" because i didn't really know, not for lack of trying. i think that's what made me ask: every time my question was directed to you, you would ignore me or, more commonly, tell me to kill myself. when i brought that up to the golf boy, who called you his little sister, he laughed, and the girl sitting beside him—a friend of mine—looked up and seemed taken aback. even with all the wildest stories she'd told me about her own family, somehow she said mine was the worse.

i didn't know it was that bad.

i thought it was normal between us. i thought we were the same as other siblings and i thought that their banter of "but we love each other, really" was only that—banter. a joke with linked limbs and cheesy smiles for the camera accompanied by our own similar brushing off of 'dust' and fixing of clothes afterwards. i didn't think it was unusual for your sister to actually hate you.

but also, i've always hoped, ever since you learnt some choice slurs, that really you did love me, deep down. i hoped, maybe even assumed, that your curled lip and scrunched nose that came for free with every glance you tossed me over your shoulder was just the same as your tank tops and jeans: something that, as a straight, cis, newly teenage girl was necessary for you to wear. then, when i let it slip two weeks later in a park with some other boys that you liked calling me a faggot, they looked surprised and mad and put off in a matter of moments. i had thought you still loved me despite it all, but they said it right there and then how uncool that was. "family doesn't do that shit."

i was glad for the dark; i could have cried, bowing my head as they backed me up out loud, smoke spilling from their lips between remarks. she still loves me, i thought silently, stubbornly. "she's just a kid," i said as if it was some god-compelling excuse. when they heard she was fourteen, they exchanged a certain glance and my heart sunk lower. and that was before i told them about the death threats, the sharpness of her nails, the other words that i'd never heard fall from her lips until after she learnt that i was trans and that i was autistic and that i was just a little bit different from her.

and so i'm stuck. i want to believe that how you hate me is the same as everyone else: that you don't actually hate me and truly love me deep, deep down, and also that everything you've done to me is just a right-now-teenage-phase thing that's been going on for the last 3 years.

i wonder, writing this now, where an 11-year-old learnt to be so determinedly hateful. we live together, we went to the same school, and even share some of the same friends. who taught my own sister that who i am is something sinful?

you won't read this. you don't believe in reading unless it's the bible nowadays.

you may never change your mind. you may never get past this moment, and there may come a day, frighteningly soon, that ends up being the last time i ever see you as i prepare for university a year from now and you try for your early golf scholarships. i need to come to terms with the fact that i may never have a relationship with my sister, i guess. and what a thing to admit to myself!

know that i don't say this to guilt you or to pitty myself. i only wrote this because i saw a video of an older sister reacting to her younger sister's wedding dress for the first time and i realised that, more likely than not, at least as things stand now, there is a good chance that i won't see you get married, and neither you, i. i probably won't get to see you slowly walk down the aisle and be proud of you. you would never invite the retarded, faggot, tranny to your perfect wedding. and i'm not going to marry, not that you'd rsvp.

i hope you look stunning in your dress when the time comes, little sister. i hope that you really love him and that he makes you happy and treats you well. i hope that i'm wrong and you don't hate me, that i'm right and you do love me. i hope you are okay, now and for the rest of your life, because for as shitty as i've gone through and for as shitty as you treat me, i can't help but care for you, and i will never hate you back.

that's all.

all the best,

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elegantkittycat · 1 year

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i'm watching never let me go and i actually like it and i just checked it on mdl and no one likes it in the comments? and i wonder

i mean, nevermind, to each their own but like, i saw some ppl bringing up palm, and i dunno, guess him not being all teary-eyed over his mother's death and such and i'm like. that's trauma for you. it has like, a million faces. and what, he's known that woman for a month or so? i'm not saying that to sound heartless, but it's a complicated relationship. she's never been there for him, and this time is not by choice either. of course she grew to like him, love him even, but that's a product of circumstance rather than intent, too. she would've been perfectly fine living all of her life without his son. and said son knows that. how painful that must be? it's complicated and i think it was carefully written and well-executed. Palm practically mourns a barely stranger. from his heart and from duty at the same time. a concept and a friend more, than a mother.

anyway,

the day my dad died, and after i was told through the phone i wrote a badass assignment in constitutional law. the best i ever did. i loved him dearly, don't misunderstand. his death destroyed my life and ruined practically everything in it. but you know, even after one year of it happening i don't think i had a grasp on reality much. i may even have joked some. trauma is weird as hell and Palm's reactions, his clinical attitude, his fits of depression and rage and then denial and his clinging to Nueng above anything else all rings relatable to me from my own traumas. but maybe i'm just a shitty human, who knows.

[and really this is just a side-note but Palm seems to be a guy who makes peace with bad facts of life and hardships thrown at him in a minute. he seems to accept the inevitability of suffering, of death, of lows and highs pretty easily and without much fanfare. i got a vibe from his character that he's like a deep, peaceful lake amidst the mountains. just there, calmly existing with everything. sure, when things ripple him badly he's ready to drown the offenders but it's not very personal. except in the case of Nueng.]

another one people seem to go on about, that Palm is a shitty bodyguard. i mean, yeah, really?? the whole point of the series is that he isn't a fucking bodyguard, he's just a boy who was dragged into this and fell in love, unfortunately. XD or is it just me who thinks that? i mean they point it out multiple times but idk. his dad was quite effective i think, for those what, seventeen years he protected Pipop but Palm is just a fisherboy. it is repeated like mantra throughout the show. in school they gossip about him being the son of the bodyguard forced to be around Nueng. which he technically is. Mrs. Tanya is using them both. Uncle Non's subservience and his willing sacrifices and his offering of a son Nueng's age. it's not a malicious abuse of power - it's subtle and seems justified and we're all so brainwashed alongside Uncle Non that we collectively forgot that that's a bad thing – wealthy people using us to their pleasure and convenience.... this show makes very strong points, (it seems way too subtly) imo.... and there's this strong implication in the first ep too, that Palm mostly grew up alone. he learned hard shit but his father was busy being an actual bodyguard in Bangkok, and he couldn't exactly teach his son that at the same time in some faraway village he grew up in... he must've been an absent father. of course Palm's terrible, it's a wonder he grew up to be this respectful and decent at all XD

also i'm not saying that Phuwin's and Pond's acting is the best I've seen but I don't know, tastes really do seem to differ cause i'm so uncomfortable with Chimon's acting (or presence, it's unclear at this point) omg. everyone has the hots for him and i'm just sitting here deeply uncomfortable. that's just a personal thing i guess but when i looked at his character first in this series (i never watched anything with him in it before) i thought he was fishy. and i just can't seem to shake that off. at first i thought it was the character but as it turned out he's a good guy. XD he gives me the creeps tho. idk, sorry man, i'm sure you're nice. maybe too nice. i can't believe a word he says. i'm so sorry.

oh but Perth is flawless. his is an outstanding performance and i'd love to see more of that but man if they really gonna have a series with Chimon i have to man up...

oh, and the Chopper's dad issue is a funny one too XD like, "the villain is so simple and his motivation is just money and he only talks and could've killed his sister-in-law a thousand times" etc...... i thought that was the whole point? like i seem to misunderstand everything here, but i truly genuinely thought that the villain being simple, kinda dumb and well, villain-y in a bad sorta way is intentionally disillusioned? that's why we know it's him from the get-go?! this is not supposed to be a mystery genius, this is to make us feel terrible and uncomfortable and uneasy, because that's the healthy real-life reaction to fucking criminals!? who murder their own family, no less. (i can't believe i'm saying this, being the biggest dark lord apologist in history but come on, this is not that type of fiction T_T ) he's like that because criminals are that simple sometimes?? they are big mouthed bullies sometimes? there is a reason he wasn't high up in the hierarchy and his brother looked down on him and never allowed him to manage big things?? because he's unstable, he's all talk, he's hateful, pitiful and a little dumb?? and that's a villain for you? also you wouldn't believe the LENGTHS simple people are willing to go for money... money is never an unworthy motivation, it's one of the single most important ones for criminals, business owners, bankers, bakers, kids, adults, actors and actresses', doctors, writers, your fave youtubers, moms, dads, uncles, mob bosess... you get the picture. duh.

(for me Uncle Kit's character was actually nice after the endless romanticization of criminals ~ i'm not looking at you kinn/porsche, i love you {kinda} but I'M SIDE-EYEING YOU. WTF WAS THAT AND WHY??!? SO FUCKING SICK AND TWISTED AND SORRY GIRLS but criminals are not all sweaty-sexy misunderstood and miseducated and mentally whacky and forced by their daddies but still somehow genius Vegas'?????? whatever the plural of this name is, i'm making grammar up as i go, sorry, rant over, i love you Vegas BUT WTF ~ )

all in all, i'm vibing to something entirely different than the rest. as per usual, i guess.

i especially loved Palm's mother and the difficult to swallow life lessons packed up in there. motherhood, self-love, selfishness, children, responsibilities, desires, duty, suffocation in a loving relationship, personal freedom... that was a good one. never seen that before in a thai bl either. you either have the devoted parent or the angry not so agreeable but ultimately i-love-you-and-i'm-here-for-you parent. but an absent parent by choice....... i felt like she was brilliant.

and i love Nueng's mother too. the very little we've seen of her is amazing. strong, no-nonsense but with a heart. devoted to her family, ready to kill for them but ultimately she's the one who gets almost killed. she seems the complete opposite of Palm's mother but not at the same time and i'm here for it, okay? i'm in love with that.

also i gotta admit that i haven't watched ep.11 yet but i just cracked up a little and this rant felt good to let out. sorry not sorry

and i would like to emphasize it: this post does not have an agenda to convince you to love a series that you don't enjoy or anything. we are all allowed to feel differently about everything under the sun (and above it and beyond). this is just my singular experience with a piece of media, wich provoked strong feelings and made me think about many aspects of humanity.

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agentnico · 1 month

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Drive-Away Dolls (2024) review

Do not see this movie with your mum. I repeat, do not not see this movie with your mum!!

Plot: Jamie regrets her breakup with her girlfriend, while Marian needs to relax. In search of a fresh start, they embark on an unexpected road trip to Tallahassee. Things quickly go awry when they cross paths with a group of inept criminals.

The Coen Brothers are behind some of the most thrilling crime capers in cinema history, and are known for their flashy neo-noir style and highly convoluted plots featuring eccentric characters. However recently the brothers decided to temporarily part ways and focus on their own separate projects, with Joel adapting the famous Shakespeare play Macbeth, which by the way was a superb piece of post-modern black-and-white cinema, and gave Roman Polanski a run for his money. Honestly, Tragedy of Macbeth was visually striking, as it stripped down the classic Bard play to its narrative and perceptible essentials, and also the cast was terrific! Then again, you can never go wrong with Denzel Washington. I honestly don’t know a single person who doesn’t love Denzel!

Anyway, whilst Joel was up to his master-class ways, what has the other Coen bro been up to? We would have found out last year if it weren’t for the strikes, but now we finally have an answer - Ethan has decided to go back to his roots and make a road trip movie that is infused with the 80s/90s goofy feel to it, and he even brings back the briefcase from Fargo! Or from No Country for Old Men. Or The Big Lebowski. Or Hail Caesar!. Pretty sure Brad Pitt also seeks a briefcase full of cash in Burn After Reading…. Honestly what is it with the Coens and their briefcases!? Not only that, I swear most of the time it’s the same model briefcase that’s used! So anyway, Ethan Coen is evidently driving down memory lane here, but is it a drive across the greatest hits, or a drive-away to disappointment?

It’s the latter unfortunately. Now we have seen the true colours and know which of the Coen bros is the talented one and which is riding on their sibling’s success! I’m kidding, everyone has a bad day at the office, but Ethan Coen has really made a stinker with Drive-Away Dolls. Playing out in less than an hour and a half, this is a very short film, so on a plus size is does whiz past you. However the storyline is so thin and disengaging, and the jokes are also really unfunny. The Coen Brothers are known for their signature wit and hilarious dialogue, however none of that is present here. Additionally, similar to how I found Poor Things to feature one too many sex scenes for my liking, Drive-Away Dolls features a lot of lesbian friction throughout, to unnecessary amounts. I thought it was bit too much, and too icky for my tastes.

The cast features a lot of talented people, all of whom I’ve seen give great performances in other projects, however here they were either miscast or simply wasted with their minimal inconsequential screen time. Margaret Qualley is way too over-the-top and silly as the fast talking Jamie with a cringe-inducing accent twang, and she got really overbearing by the end of the movie. Geraldine Viswanathan as Marian plays the straight faced counterpart to Qualley’s annoying energy ball. Again, it’s not the first time we’ve seen such a dynamic in films, yet Viswanathan can’t seem to find any interesting layers within her one-dimensional character and as such came off really boring. The rest of the cast comes and goes, some for sheer forced comedy and others to at least make some attempt to have a cohesive plot, but even then are taken out of the equation quickly and pointlessly. Pedro Pascal, Colman Domingo, Beanie Feldstein, Matt Damon, Bill Camp, Miley Cyrus….all wasted.

The movie also features very sloppy editing, and also the transitions! We have to speak about the transitions! What the hell was going on there? So from scene to scene we’d get these weird wacky psychedelic kaleidoscopic inserts, and I mean in a stoner film this would probably serve more purpose, but in a movie like this it felt totally random. To be fair at the end a character does mention about something that happened years ago that somewhat mildly justifies these inserts, but even then having so much of them throughout the film felt like a useless gimmick. I’m all for filmmakers trying something different and unique visually, but as long as it serves a purpose to the overall narrative, which in this case it did not.

It’s really disappointing as I’m a major fan of the Coen Brothers works, however this was such a messy misfire, I’m honestly shocked it made it through to actual release. It’s silly but not in a fun way, featuring wasted talent and bland gags, and one should simply drive away from this as far as possible.

Overall score: 2/10

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bytchysylvy · 1 year

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Oasis: 1, Latikam: 7, Casarin: 10, Hydrel: 18

(oasis) What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Approximately 10 minutes. This assumes "nothing" does not include keeping a watch out, navigation, watching to make sure casarin is paying attention, making snide comments and flipping off other pilots while on the ship. If he's being responsible she likes to go harass alex in the back. On land she's always wandering off on her own away from casarin either picking up essentials he's forgotten again or non essentials lol. She can also be found playing "lets throw bricks at susarikas" (he loves it) to pass the time.

If there's NOTHING to do, she's trapped just waiting, she'll usually pull something she uh found in the street (finders keepers) and carve into it with her knife. No this is mine, see its got my name on it and a little pony too, oh and on this side its got a snake eating a watermelon.

(latikam) What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

The thing with living for centuries is that at a certain point, everything and nothing causes nostalgic, its the experience of every vazuvyr. BUT latikam has lived through the occupation AND does not live in his homeland anymore, in a way he is a child who remembers past lives but cannot apply any of it to this one. The biggest trigger is that mokubat learned how to cook from vokutlvek, and while they have their different styles every now and then something lines up, he can taste his brothers work in his sons. Its... a lot. Thats the taste he's known through centuries of heartache and love and pain and joy and healing, yet for once he's not here for it. The person who's always been there to run to, lay his head on, and protected him isn't there this time. Somehow disorientating and grounding at the same time.

Seeing casarin and hydrel also remind him A LOT of vokutlvek and azrem. Their stupid little dramas, playing footsies at the table, shoving food into his mouth. Latikam said "I know what you are".

(casarin) What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

God why did you have pick THIS one for him how did you hone in on this choice. My man keeps repeatedly telling a very specific lie about how okay he is. "haunted" probably isnt the word Id pick exactly. During sf its less of the burden of knowing he lied and more of the fear of someone finding out the truth. And in act 2 when someone confronts him about it he doubles down on "everything is fine" until he's dragged kicking and screaming to the warm saucer of milk. At the end of his life he looks at those years and realizes how stupid he was for putting himself through it and not asking for help, especially now recognizing fjinmars and adaen saw the problem and wanted to help him but he never gave them the chance, but at this point he's too preoccupied by the good run they had and how thats going to be gone.

A specific instance he told this lie to his mother, who he never lies to because she is telepathic, clocked him immediately and he broke down about the whole thing. The thing that hurts him is that he doesnt know why he lied, mama never made him feel bad about this before, he just... felt guilty and embarrassed about all this. idk.

(hydrel) What embarrasses them?

The austisms. He's had people "just tease" him for his expressions and taking things literally and when he's last to the joke. Doesnt like to ask what people mean by things because that usually makes it worse. It's not obvious in the main script but its worth noticing how much differently he acts with his family vs with casarin. Weird. Sure its nothing. Also bringing up past incidents is the fastest way to get 🧑‍🤝‍🧑-- points with him, VERY embarrassed when he realized after the fact he overreacted or was rude when he didnt mean to be. Just let him learn and move on.

Also extremely embarrassed if you catch him farting lmao. How dare you accuse him of having a bodily function. I want a bestie divorce.

#''love how these all came back to casarin in some way'' yeah im mentally ill for him #sf #oasis #casarin #hydrel #latikam

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haru-sen · 1 year

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Writing Update

Finished up revisions on book two. The working title is The Wolfsbane Trail. Passed it on to my second round beta readers; also have an optional smut chapter for it and a 23k novella that takes place two weeks afterward. I’m 34k into book 3, considering a 2.6 novella from a kid character’s perspective, and debating the merits of starting a new YA or MG fantasy after this.

So as a lot of you know, I’m querying for The Foxglove Pact right now. It feels like a mash-up of job-hunting and online dating: you need to find the right candidate with mutual interest, who you can work well with. They also need to be really into you, because they need to turn around and sell you to a publishing house. So you, as the queri-er have to deal with a lot of rejection from the quer-ee (the agent). Everyone’s heard the stories of well-known authors receiving tons of rejections, so I figured I was pretty prepared for it. (Insert joke about my dating life/job hunting experiences.) And you know, compared to ten years ago, it’s a lot nicer. I have a friend (published and an excellent writer) who received a letter from an agent who told her to stop writing. Very rude. Most form responses now include a line about how the rejection is a matter of personal taste, the agent does not feel like they are the best representative for this work at this time, and that the writer should not give up. Honestly, on its own, it’s not too bad.

And then you get several form rejections in one week. Oof, real cumulative DOT with a mood debuff. I’ve since made rules about not checking that email box first thing in the morning. I also have a couple full manuscripts requested, which helps with the salt.

A majority of agents use Querymanager for submissions, though a significant number still use email. As the writer, I use the sister system Querytracker to check for updates from other people on the site. (Agent A switched genres. Agent B is active again! Agent C went on hiatus.) It can be very helpful. (Agent D doesn’t actually want more of this genre. Agent E is notorious for ghosting people. Agent F is really nice, but might not get back to you for a year.) It can get obsessive. (Agent G normally rejects people after 14 days, but asks for a manuscript after 20. It’s been 30 days. Oh shit, they’ve responded to someone after me. WTF. I need to check my submission confirmation! Maybe they didn’t get it! Oh, here’s the confirmation…) I’m considering a premium membership just so I can better use filters, i.e. hide the rejections. I don’t need updates on the agents who passed on my work. No hard feelings, I’m just focusing on the people who are still options for me.

Unsurprisingly, my most useful feedback was from agents who read the full manuscripts. They liked the voice, they enjoy the story, but… Here’s the weird little nugget that I’ve learned over this process, and I get it. “I already represent something too close to what you have.” Obviously, you should be approaching agents who wishlist the genre you’re writing, but keep an eye on their author list, because most seem to have an (understandable) issue with splitting resources between too-similar clients.

After a couple months of submission, I think my base query letter is solid. I am improving it, as well as my comps and other meta additions. (biography, comparisons i.e. like Skulduggery Pleasant meets Monstress or Sandman Slim meets the Ancient Magus’ Bride), My one-line pitch could use some work. But not everyone asks for one. What do you mean “tell me about yourself?” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

Ahem.

Anyway, need to get back to book 3.

#writing #query process

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mando-abs · 2 years

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An Eastern Southern Girl’s Review of Buc-ee’s

Alright. As you may or may not have heard, in the big ol’ state of Texas, there comes a chain of gas stations known as Buc-ee’s (pronounced Bucky’s, like the Avenger). This gas station/convenience store has been a Texan staple for quite a few decades. But if you asked anyone closer to the east coast, we wouldn’t know what you were talking about.

Until now.

Looking back, I probably should have taken more pictures, but you’re gonna have to roll with it.

I didn’t even know what a Buc-ee’s was until one popped up Calhoun, GA, and everyone and their mother decided to pay their respects to the beaver like he was a saint.

Suddenly, every native Texan crawled out of the woodworks and started floating about their proud establishment. I, not exempt from this, heard many-a stories about it at my local college from out-of-state students. And for about a year now, my family has been planning to go, but always delayed. Until today.

It wasn’t that long of a drive to the place (my keyboard wants to auto-correct the name every time I type it and I’m growing frustrated) but it was still a nice little pilgrimage. My family arrived at peak lunchtime, which was not a good idea. But hey, the place is open 24/7. We got time.

But holy moley, this place was hoppin. Like I stated before, everybody and their mother was there to witness it. I even spotted a whole group of middle-aged Eagle Scouts walking around the place. So, if you’re overwhelmed by crowds, I would advise avoiding peak eating times. (Although, later sitting in the car, I was entertained by a dilf in like classic greaser clothing letting his toddler burn some energy while his other kid bought an airplane set that was the size of him. So, lose some, win some)

Of course, the first thing I did was use the bathroom. I have heard from many sources, including @just-here-for-the-moment , that these bathrooms are no joke and the cleanest around. Given the high volume of people coming in and out of the bathrooms, I was skeptical. I’m happy to report that they were spotless. Like, almost all the toilets were occupied and the floors weren’t even grimy. Each toilet is in its own little room. It has enough space for you to take a breather or have a meltdown before you head out on the road again. The wildest thing, however, was the fact that they had toilet cleaner you could dabble on some toilet paper and wipe down your seat AND hand sanitizer before (and after) you touched the doorknob. 🤯🤯🤯

Apparently, this is in the men’s restroom and y’all…

Are men finally going to hand sanitize themselves after touching their penis? This is revolutionary. So many sanitizers it’s hard for them to ignore it. And yes there are sinks with soap. But if you’re like me and you just wanna get out of there bc there’s so many people, sanitizer will do. (Also just before the bathrooms, this is where they try to sell art, and that’s just weird and unsanitary to me)

After relieving myself, I made my way over to the snacks section to get one of my favorite snacks: beef jerky. Now, this place is know for having a beef jerky bar, but like I said, so many people. And they had a wide variety of prepackaged selections so I don’t feel cheated in the slightest. I found out later they had a whole beef jerky wall but even then I still had my own little corner of beef jerky heaven.

I decided on peppered jerky (since that’s my favorite Jack Links flavor). It probably wasn’t the best flavor they had, but the jerky was still jerky and I’ve eaten half of it already.

I went searching for watermelon gummy rings but they were sold out 🥺🥺🥺 Very sad. This just gives me another excuse to stop here again. My mom got Beaver Nuggets, which I don’t know exactly what they are. They seem like puffed up corn with a sugary glaze on them. And I’m going to have to apologize to the Texans hyping these up. I didn’t think they’d be great, but I tasted a few and they were really good, not too sweet, just right. I will definitely be getting those next time I go.

Then, I went to go search out their tacky merch section for my own tacky beaver shirt and found this lil beauty

It was a little bit expensive for just a t-shirt ($17) but t-shirts are practically my wardrobe so…it’ll pay for itself. It was when I got this shirt that I started noticing people taking pictures of the place and vlogging in the store. Wild. The only other time I’ve seen someone vlog in a store was in and around Disney World (one video of which my family was caught in it lol)

Finally, it was lunchtime. The most popular item they have for lunch and dinner is the in-house bbq brisket sandwiches…of which I also didn’t get 😂😂😂 I was gonna get it but then I saw thick-cut bbq turkey. “But Abs! Turkey is normally dry.” Yeah, I know. I just wanted something less greasier and something that goes easier on my stomach. Those sandwiches were expensive, about $7-8 and the bbq sauce was mediocre. Trust me, you are better off going to your local bbq place if you live in the south. I hear they have breakfast biscuits and tacos in the morning. I would hold out for that more than this. I also had their in-house chips. They were pretty good, reasonably priced. It’s a good road snack. The best deal however were their drinks. You could get a oversized extra large American to-go cup filled with Pepsi products, Arizona tea, Gatorade, and store branded sodas for less than a dollar. Now that’s a bargain. And for good measure, I got a homemade rice crispy treat because they’re my weakness.

All in all, it was worth to see what the commotion was about. If you’re driving down the interstate and see a beaver head, take a moment to stop, and pay your respects to the beaver.

#abs reviews #buc ees #I took all my strength today to not say bussy

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godsg111rl · 10 months

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things i can never say to you:

i just want you to keep my name out of your mouth and your eyes off me at all times.

you’re jealous of me and have shown that in so many ways and for the life of me i cannot figure out why.

i haven’t had a sober convo with you since 2018. i only really spoke to you when drunk. so the paragraph texts? the cursing out? all of that? drunk. bc that’s really the only time i’m stupid enough to believe that someone so deeply attached to their victimhood like you will listen, not try to play victim, and actually talk your shit. never happened by the way.

i should’ve taken you up on your offer to do therapy together because that likely would have helped me understand why you move so….weird.

i pity you and your unruly upbringing. i do.

you’re a mean girl and you’re delusional for thinking it’s the other way around. i may have not been the nicest to you in recent years but i gave you an inch and you took a mile so i feel very justified in giving you a taste of your own medsss.

i was shook when we rekindled and you were still the same girl (in your thought process and ways).

you have control issues and i AM the right and wrong person to try to control

i cannot believe you really had people believing we were cousins. it’s 2023 & i’m still having to debunk that lie.

i can’t believe you’d also go on to say that we mutually agreed to lie about being cousins like you didn’t TELL me to lie to people about us being related. you know it’s bad when you can’t even remember your own lies.

i’m glad we both agree that i’m smarter. no take backs.

i think you instigated that fight that one summer night. you know the one.

i honestly think you lie about how our fall out impacts or impacted you bc it’s always been more important to you to seem unbothered than to wear your heart on your sleeves like you do.

dating your ex was a mistake that i can’t take back or undo no matter how hard i try or have tried.

does it even matter that i dated your ex when you were never a friend to me? or do lines suddenly get blurred when it’s you that’s been wronged? PEMDAS.

it fucked with me how you went out of your way to tell everybody i was copying you just to copy and paste my existence after we rekindled.

i stopped telling people my secrets and vision for my life after rekindling w you. pretty sure meeting another unoriginal and conniving leech like you is on my top 10 worst fears list.

you need some milk.

you can’t keep friends unless they are a million miles away from you & it shows.

i hate that i still have room in my heart to genuinely root for and cheer you on knowing how you tried to play me not once but several times.

charging white boy prices just to sell me a gram was very narc of you. i should’ve known then you weren’t fwm like that.

remember when you talked my head off about your home warming & created the illusion that I’d be somehow invited or participating? just to not actually invite me at all? then the day of i watched you broadcast your party on insta & tried to joke it off by saying, “well i guess i’m not invited huh?” you responded with a lie about how only your co-workers were invited? that was fucked.

i really do have a Pinterest board with over 200 pins/receipts of you not only doing weird shit but being weird to me.

i’m glad your mental health hats and business were a flop. you really don’t know how sick that made me given you were in my inbox a few days prior hyping up the blueprint you bought from me & MY mental health business.

remember when i told you i pray for you and you told me you don’t pray for me & want me to go to hell? yeah, God saw it all.

us not being friends anymore makes so much sense. i just wish i had seen it in 2008 not 2014.

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many-gay-magpies · 2 years

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mags mags i am abt to scream and i figured i’d tell you bc why not I JUST DYED MY HAIR RED LIKE FUCKING R E D AND IM LOSING MY MIND. i love it but also sO much of my hair fell out during the process which is a MASSIVE YIKES and i will be monitoring/caring for it

anyways i also have to add traveling the world and writing some books to my vampire list. i actually thought about it and . is it weird that if i were immortal and stuff i would just want to buy a maple tree/maple syrup farm up in vermont and live peacefully there? just tend a nice flower garden and see to the syrup production there and be calm? idk i think that would be a lovely way to pass an eternity

i can see that Exact scenario with jaan and heli KDNSJDBDV JUST JAAN VIBRATING IN DISTRESS

levanter does absolutely HIT i will admit, but as a girl who never left her emo phase and also adores noise music i cannot say it’s my personal favorite. i love the louder, more hard-hitting stuff- like thunderous really scratched my brain itch. ofc not everyone’s gonna like that 😅😅 but i’m vibing with skz’s new stuff a lot

uhhh idk what else to say hope u have a nice day and minho loves u too

- vrvr anon

OH NO-- but also oh YES hgsjfhfj i bet it looks great!! i love red hsjffjfbg, take care of it well!! (i cld lowkey never dye my hair hsjdhjfbf im way to attached to how it is now and id be scared of ruining my scalp-- but dyed hair is so cool tho id probably do it in like. an alternate universe where i had bad hair lol)

ahhh the vampire list!! yeah theres literally so much that could go on there. and no yeah that totally makes sense like... in THEORY id want to travel the world but in reality (presuming theres ever a "reality" where i become an immortal in the first place) . id probably just start a savings account or something, fuck off and sleep for a few centuries, then wake up to a bunch of accumulated savings with which i would buy a nice lil plot of land, maybe start my own farm (nothing giant, just a few chickens and maybe a horse) and chill there for the rest of my infinite life. i could have a little cottage! i could write books in the little cottage! i could go sit by a lake and read! i could watch the sun rise! i could make friends with the local townspeople and become known as the mysterious but kind specter that lives in the farm up the hill and only comes into town every other month or so to check in, and also mysteriously has appeared to live on the farm for ages despite not visibly aging whatsoever!

NO JAAN AND HELI. im just thinking about jakah thrown into the scenario too, because he's another one with an actual sense of responsibility and braincells, but hes ALSO not nearly as anxious about it as jaan probably. so while jaan's busy freaking out hes like "man chill out, we're immortal anyway, we cant die until we get stabbed through the heart with a wooden stake. the worst that could happen is the helicopter crashes but WELL still be fine" and jaan just looks at him incredulously and goes. "fucking hell jakah being immortal doesnt mean crashing in an on-fire helicopter wont HURT."

i can admit as far as skz (and also kpop in general) goes that i am not the biggest noise music fan. like i dont hate it or anything and there are a lot of more noisy songs that i love, but its just not my Thing like it is some peoples' (and thats fine! peoples tastes are different! no hard feelings have been had). so a lot of skz's newer music doesnt appeal to me as much HDJFBFJJF (altho maniac was amazing like that shit slapped. no joke). i tend to like more vocal stuff, which is why levanter was It to me and also why i like vrvr's stuff so much-- even some of the "noisier" tracks have almost entirely vocal choruses and it just makes my vocal brain go brrr!!! so yeah :>

i hope u have a nice day/night as well!! and i hope your hair looks nice and stays (relatively at least) healthy :3

#also just bc i wanna clarify . the paragraph about skz and noise music is not meant to be salty At All hsjfbfjfb #i actually rly love talking about conflicting music tastes with people!! i like how different tastes can be its vv fun to me to figure out #-where mine does or doesnt overlap with another person #asks #anon 📝#vrvr anon

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1kook · 3 years

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viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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jtrokujo · 3 years

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂¿

paring: Mikaela Hyakuya x fem!Reader

(they’re 18+!!!)

word count: 4k

warning: this story contains sexual content

gerne: smut

summary: there are days when they get along well but there were also days when they hated each other like the plague and even though they love each other?

—

The weather is neutral, but I wish it got better.

The sun is obscured by the gray clouds, but it's not windy or anything.

You could even go out with a top.

However, y / n decided to take a seat in the four walls with a number of different books and a tall pile of books right next to them.

As she gently leafed through the pages of the somewhat older book, she felt a stab.

Of course it didn't hurt since no one was attacking her, but it felt like someone was watching her.

Without presenting her feelings, she took some books and put the rest where she got them.

Immediately after leaving the library, she stopped in the middle of the path and said with an annoyed sigh, "Bathory, I know you're here."

He stands grinning in front of y / n, but could hardly show a disappointed face.

With his head tilted to one side, he looked at his prey and smiled at her immediately. "I prefer you to call me by my first name, dear."

“I do what I want and not what you want, Bathory. Besides, I have better things to do than waste my precious time being influenced by you. "

When they told the vampire, she continued on her way, or at least intended to.

As quickly as he came, he grabbed her arm just as quickly. "But y / n, why is it in such a hurry?" asked the vampire, amused, pressing more and more on hers with every second, so slowly you could hear her bones. Y / n had to react immediately!

Without thinking for a second, she dropped all of the books on the white floor and immediately grabbed her gun. "You should let go of me!" y / n's voice rang out down the hall and immediately shot the vampire in the arm.

His blood spurted around her.

Y / n got his blood on her face as well as on her clothes - it was the same with Bathory, also the wall and especially the floor got his blood.

"Disgusting." mumbled y / n and wiped the blood on her face, although she knew herself that it would be of no use.

"What's going on here?" Everyone but not him.

"Hello Mika!" said Ferid with delight and turned to get a better look at him.

"Have you lost your nerve again?" he asked me annoyed, but he only looked at me for a few seconds and immediately saw Ferid's blood spatter.

"What do you mean 'again'?"

Even if we've known each other for a long time, we both have to admit that one and the other have diverged. Sometimes it was his fault, sometimes it was me. There were of course moments when we got along really well, but in the end they weren't enough in my opinion.

"Since you've lived with us, at least one vampire must have got something from your weapon."

Said the blond-haired vampire while his eyes stared at me.

I'm not understating when I say that his eyes alone make me feel naked.

Mika only manages to control me through his eyes, even though I should be the one who should control every vampire or the various books I spend most of my time on just one more bad joke.

It was enough for vampires to exist and more than hundreds of people took their own lives just to be able to enjoy themselves. To this day I cannot forgive any of the vampires for what they did to me or those around me. I know myself that there are bad ones, but what is their goal?

Or do you have a goal?

"Y / n." I heard his voice.

Awakened from my trance, I see his eyes again. However, they do not have this previous aura, no, they are a little stricter this time. When I gave him a sign of his attention, the lecture immediately came, "You are old enough to know how to behave and with whom to behave. If you show this behavior to someone else, I'll let that person do it . " and do what they want, because I haven't had the nerve for someone like you for a long time. So finally know your limits before I use my weapon against you! "

Impressive. From sentence to sentence his voice grew louder and louder. Seriously, I never expected or even had the idea of this side of Mika in my life, but here it is. Wonderful y / n, now you have managed to sink deeply with Mika, which is actually the very last thing I ever wanted to achieve in my life, but life has never been a paradise.

With a chuckle, Bathory put his arm and my shoulders and spoke to Mika.

"But, but Mika shouldn't be so strict with her. She's just a little girl again, not even now, is she?" "If I were that little girl, you would surely have two arms instead of one." After saying my sentence, I picked up the books that were still on the floor and didn't say goodbye to anyone, why should I?

Bathory is nothing more than an idiot who uses his satisfaction to see others suffer rather than provoke them too.

While Mika nudges both children like a father, although the other is to blame for everything.

When I got to my room, I put the books on my table and sat on my bed, thinking about the old days. However, I don't think of the days with loved ones that I lost, but of those that I spent with Mika before he gave me a “better life”.

I could leave it all behind at any time and either not start an old or a new life, but I love to have him in my heart for it.

Sighing at my thoughts, I give up and stood in front of my closet for the next minute.

While the lukewarm water felt the white bathtub, my clothes landed on the floor.

This life is more of a calling expected of others than a life of its own. A break does no harm to anyone.

I said to myself and after a few seconds I closed my eyes.

After my bath or a break from the real world, I'm just choosing which book to read.

As I was about to start the new book, someone knocked on my door.

Hesitantly, I said the door was open and waited for the person behind it to appear. Please leave it all but Bathory.

Sighing, I immediately put my hand on my left breast and saw him, Mika.

To be honest, I'm happy to see him, but I'm not, but I don't need an explanation. "Good evening." he said in his usual tone. Without making a big head out of it, I repeated it myself, but added if he needed anything from me.

Shivering, I answered my question in the negative and came up to me with slow steps.

The only thing I could do was do nothing. I stopped. When our faces are a few centimeters away, his arm came slowly towards my body, until he reached for something, when he had this in his hand, he came back with a few steps and immediately held a book in my face.

"I really recommend it, I have to say, you have pretty good taste when it comes to books. I've read it several times because these stories, the writing style, the plot and most of all the characters are up to me." uniquely well written down to the smallest detail. "

I looked at the vampire in amazement. "You read that too?" "Y / n, if I hadn't read it, I wouldn't have a clue either."

A little ashamed of my oh-so-intelligent question, I also looked at the floor.

The whole time there was nothing to be heard, neither a little intoxication, nor even breathing. But after a few seconds, Mika also broke the embarrassing silence by taking a few steps and holding out his arm to me. I don't understand it about myself. When Mika is around, I either act annoyed or neutral. However, countless butterflies gather in my stomach when I think of him alone!

"Y / n ... y / n?!" Mika looked up, gave me a neutral look and at the same time held a few strands of my hair and asked me if he should tie my hair up with a towel. I gently took the wet strands of hair from his hand and began to giggle at my discomfort and nervousness. The thought of me being weird was always out of the question.

"I think I'll blow dry my hair. I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow."

"I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow." repeated Mika before she disappeared from my room.

Locked in the room and caught in his deepest thoughts, he stared over the ceiling.

The reviews of that day haunted him to this day when he also dreamed them.

Sleeping now wouldn't be for him, even though it is shortly before 2 o'clock.

But what can you do about it?

The vampire rose from the bed, stretched out, and decided to go for a walk immediately.

As he walked through the empty corridors, he always hoped not to meet anyone.

Whatever stays that way.

Bored and hands in his pockets, the floor caught his attention. It didn't take long, however, because he was amazed to get up when he saw the light coming from someone's room.

He was more than sure whose room, or rather chamber, it was.

It was Y / n's.

He stopped in front of it, thinking, held out his hand and wanted to knock on the door. At the same time he quickly put his hand in his pocket. This scenario takes about 3 minutes. But it wasn't the vampire's nervousness that was unusual, no, why should he be at y / n's door? This is funny.

Doesn't he often seem annoyed or stern in your presence?

Well, he doesn't even know what's going on in his head.

After an eternity, the vampire finally knocked on the human's door and immediately heard "Come in" from the other side.

Without telling himself twice, he opened the door and saw her. He saw her spread out on the large bed with several notes and books.

Stressed out. You can't see it from the outside, but even Mika can confess that he thinks it is strange to see y / n at this time.

"Do you need something?" she asked him and fixed him with her gaze.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping long ago?" he asked and at the same time crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mika, I could ask you that too, don't you think?" sigh y / n and slowly start piling up her notes and books together.

When Mika offered her help, she politely declined and slowly and carefully put the things on her desk.

"If you have nothing special to do, you can always keep me company, you know?"

Yes, even if there is an argument between the two, they still get along well. However, they don't seem to be as close as they used to be. Without saying anything, Mika accepted the offer and sat next to y / n.

Was that really wise?

The smell of y / n gets over his head, but he's not as easy to lose control as other vampires.

Breathing hard, Mika rubbed her eyes and hoped that this unbearable smell would go away any moment.

Easier said than done.

If only I had drunk blood in the last few days. The vampire cursed.

Y / n noticed his unusual behavior and tried to communicate with him, but to no avail. She called his name several times, tapped him on the shoulder, and shook him a little. He seems trapped in his own world. For the first time she seemed to see someone so trapped in his own world. When will he regain his senses?

Annoyed, she hit his skull with her fist, which led to a groan of pain from Mika's mouth. "What does this mean?!"

“If you are tired, please go to your room and sleep there.

Both rolled their eyes in annoyance.

"You have nothing to say to me, human."

"Oh really? What are you going to do about it, vampire?" It wasn't a mistake by y / n, but rather Mika's mistake. If he hadn't called her a human, she wouldn't have called him a vampire. Nobody except Mika knows right now how much he hates vampires and yet he is one himself, but you have to remember that he never wanted to be one. Not everyone is lucky in life.

As I said, even if it was his own fault that she reminded him, he completely lost his nerve. Slowly she approached y / n, she already felt the dark aura coming towards her. However, y / n did not want to show the fear that is in her and slowly rising above her head. She will regret it. "Repeat when you have the pity." "What is the problem? You called me human and I called you a vampire, but you know what makes me be silly, get out of here, vampire. ”Without further ulterior motives, Mika grabbed her wrist and squeezed the bones with her hand listened from print to print. When she wanted to reach for her gun, which is under her top, Mika was a second faster and threw it directly to the end of the room. When Mika immediately released his hand from Y / n's wrist, she saw an emotion in his eyes, sadness.

He was hurt, but shouldn't he care? What should a little person who plays with little guns do against a vampire, ask him about a game? However, he saw her more as a person, he saw her as someone he can love, with whom he can laugh, of course he had had these people before in his life, but they have long since disappeared. Oh how much he loves her.

If only she knew how many letters he wrote her, but never gave them to her, but hid them in his room.

"I'm really stupid." Mika muttered trembling to herself. Y / n heard it and slowly walked up to him "Mika, that was very childish of me and, to be honest, I'm sorry." When she tried to touch his shoulder, he knocked her away and looked into her eyes, it was their fault.

“I don't want your decisions! I never wanted to be a vampire! If you don't know anything about me, please be quiet and think twice before you open your door! ”The whole room went quiet, pretty quiet. It was rather uncomfortably quiet for y / n, but she preferred to keep her mouth shut because it looked like Mika was looking for the right words. "Why do I love you? Tell me Y / N, how can I love you when you hate me so much?" His voice was fragile and it was tormented to hear it that way. "Mika, I had never hated you before." Exhausted, Mika sat down on the floor and looked at the gun at the other end of the room. "Every time I see a gun like that, I hate myself even more." “Even if it sounds a bit clichéd, for example because of the current situation, I have to and want to admit that I love you Mika. You are in such pain and apparently you have torn old wounds. You didn't deserve that, nobody deserved that. ”Y / n sat like Mika on the floor and hugged him. Her warm body against his cold one. As if in slow motion, their faces stood a few inches apart until their lips met.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

With my hands on the back of his neck and my tongue seeking his, his fingertips dance from my thigh under my top.

Only he managed to make me shiver everywhere in a few seconds with the help of his touch. Not through his ice-cold skin, no, only through him. In keeping with the mood, the cold raindrops hit my window pane. "Waiting." he whispered to me.

Not a second later it was pitch black in my room. The butterflies in my stomach just like Mika don't know when to stop, but I love it, never let it stop! His lips kissed every inch of my skin and whispered to me how divine my body was. His hands slide up my top until it finally brushes over my head. The first item of clothing is already on the floor. My legs were around his waist so he could pick me up and lay me on my bed. When he did that, his lips were still on my skin.

As I lay down comfortably, I watched his clothes land piece by piece on the floor. His belly is built like that of a Greek god and although it is dark the moon shines on him. One could have immediately thought it was a godsend. The boxer shorts were the only items of clothing that remained. While I was about to take off my pants, Mika took my hands and indicated that he could do it himself. When my pants peeled off my skin, he looked at my legs in admiration and immediately threw my pants on the floor. Now stand half-naked in front of my bed. The red cheeks on his cheeks were clearly visible. "Are we really supposed to pull this off?" I asked Mika and looked him in the eye. His lips approached my ear and he breathed softly, "Y / n, the question is not, we should, but we can. A human and a vampire, is that a good chemistry?"

"Why don't we want to find out?" I whispered and kissed his shoulder in time. Now he looked at me again, but with clearly red cheeks you could have thought he had a fever, but I can't blame him, because even when his ice-cold body is on top of mine, my body manages to have a hot temperature.

As our tongues played with each other again, our hands explored each other's bodies. While one hand pinches my buttocks, the other is right on my bra clasp.

Moaning slightly, I also pinched his buttocks and felt my muscles tense. A low gasp left his delicate lips, which made me even weaker. My temperature rises more and more with each of his touches.

I can not stand it anymore!

He knows very well that he has the upper hand!

When my bra, like the rest of the clothes, landed on the floor, his ice-cold hands brushed my arms up to my hips and brushed the last piece of clothing across the floor.

I was breathing hard down in my zone.

His hands were on each thigh so I couldn't pinch my legs together. Apart from the horniness, I could hardly move my legs because of his strength, you can not say that he is so strong. The horniness in me is going like crazy! With every breath Mika takes against my area, the butterflies in my stomach fly crazier.

When his tongue brushed my cervix for less than a second, I let out a gasp. Immediately afterwards he pressed his tongue against it and danced with it at the same time. That I'm getting wetter is not only clear to me, but also to Mika, when he was his tongue in my entrance, she explored every single inch inside.

Overwhelmed by shame and lust, I pressed one hand against my mouth so as not to make a noise from you, and the other on his white-blonde hair.

Every time his tongue penetrated deeper and he spread my thighs wider and wider, it honestly hurt, but I don't care about that at the moment because as good as he makes me feel no one is going to do it and I want it too nobody does it because I just want them. Because I just want Mika.

When I thought it couldn't get better, I was wrong. When he started sucking, I was done. My lustful moans got louder every time I sucked, but I do my best that nobody but Mika can hear it. When he freed his tongue from the entrance again, he stuck his middle and ring finger in the next second and didn't give me a second to get used to it. The speed of his fingers is unique!

No matter how much I press my hand against my mouth, my moans stay louder.

Several times his name groaned, which only drove him to increase the speed. My orgasm is nourishing. When I groaned and said I was about to be there, he didn't stop but continued. His tongue dances on my cervix and his fingers successfully hit the G-spot every time, it's just breathtaking!

When my orgasm came, I screamed his name with relish and breathed heavily as I stared at the ceiling.

His beautiful face approached mine, but he devoted his lips to my ears and whispered, "A second round won't hurt you." Aren't my trembling legs enough for him? In the middle of the kiss, I slowly felt his member inside me, but my nails clawed behind his back in pain, we continued the kiss. Now it was Mika who groaned in the middle of the kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed my chest as his hips began to dance. Is it still normal for him to make me feel this way? Because on the one hand I can no longer, on the other hand I want more! Mika's one hand is on my thigh while the other is on my chest. The way he plays sensitive nipples is superb.

I don't know how he makes me feel so good, but I want him to never stop. "Mika, don't stop." I moaned in his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist. When he saw me, I didn't know how to feel. Because his eyes are blood red! He slowly approached my neck. That cold breath worried me even more. He didn't bite me, however, but instead scratched his designated spot with his fangs as the blood flowed from the wound, so it propelled him and made him much faster than before. The clap of our skin was just as loud as the satisfying moans from our mouths. "Y / n." he groaned my name and immediately turned me around. Now my back was visible to him. With both hands on our hips, our bodies clapped together. When I moaned his name one last time, the orgasm came, Mika pulled his member out of me and rubbed it with his hand until finally the white sperm speared out of his body.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

After Mika helped me cleanse my body, we are back in bed naked. "Do you think we can do it?" Mika asked out of nowhere. “I don't think so, I know, Mika. And I think you should too. "The vampire looked at me lovingly and finally kissed me on the lips and immediately afterwards whispered" Good night, y / n. " "Good night, Mika."

#mikaela hyakuya #owari no seraph mikaela #owari no seraph #mikaela x reader #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #female #x you #love story #smut #seraph of the end #yuichiro hyakuya #shinoa hiragi #ferid bathory #guren ichinose

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brivetaroundtown · 3 years

Text

Is it almost 3am on the day the collab is due? Yes. But you know better here then never right? THANK YOU SO MUCH @seita for letting me join your Corrupt A Virgin collab. Go check out the other awesome contributors! It’s very yummy if I do say so myself and I do say so

Link Here

Also I did look up if ducks could drown so that’s now a thing in my search history.

Aged Up Tsukishima Kei x Fem Reader

TW: LEMON ALL THE LEMONS. NSFW SMUT. Dub Con, Tsukki being an asshole, Corruption kink, yan vibes, my writing, virginity loss. use of lamb asa pet name. If you see anything else PLEASE let me know so I can tag it.

2,342 words

Tsukishima wondered if you had grown up in a bubble. That could be the only way someone could have been kept so pure, so innocent. So utterly unequipped to handle even the most mild of flirtations. Surely, you had to know that everyone on the Sendai Frogs has been flirting with you at some point or another. More importantly, he has been flirting with you. Sure, he isn’t the most generous when it comes to niceties, but my god woman you had to have had some sort of clue by now.

But as Tsukishima stares down at your innocent face, he realizes that you have absolutely no idea the effect you have on him. That only makes him want you more.

“Y/N” the smirk couldn’t leave his face even if he wanted it too “you want me to walk you home.”

“I don’t want you to go out of your way or anything! I-its just getting dark and I am not used to this side of town…”

“Of course not, wouldn’t want our little manager to get lost.”

Such a sweet thing you were, thinking of others. Let’s see how far he can push that… accommodating… spirit.

30 minutes later they had finally arrived at your place. Kei could have cut that time in half by taking a short cut you knew nothing about, but where would the fun be in that? Besides, as you got to your apartment door, he knew that you would feel obligated to let him in. Kei did go out of his way to help you home after all, it was the least you could do.

“Thank you for walking me home Tsukishima-san! Ah w-would you like to come in for a drink or anything? I feel bad for making you walk all this way.” Blush staining your cheeks, you unconsciously bit the corner of your lip, a nervous habit of yours. Kei doesn’t even think you know that you do it. “Of course, a water would be nice.”

Kei’s first look at your little studio apartment confirms his earlier assessment of you. Innocent. Still classy, what with the greys and blues in the modern style but the stuffed narwhals and other cutesy sea creature decorations offset the steel bookcases and matching steel appliances. What also doesn’t surprise him is how organized the place is, having seen some of your spreadsheets for the team and your current struggles to organize the equipment closet.

Kei watched you move around your little kitchen. The way you stood on your toes to grab a glass, shirt lifting enough to give him a teasing glance of your smooth skin underneath. It was enough to make a lesser man beg. Thankfully, Kei considered himself not to be a lesser man. He wouldn’t be the one begging tonight.

You felt nervous with Tsukishima’s eyes on you. It’s always hard to normal tasks when someone is watching. But it’s especially more intimidating when that someone is Tsukishima Kei. He was so smart and quick. He made you nervous, you felt clunky around him being so much shorter than he was. Rounder too.

But whenever he included you in on a joke or smirked at you, you felt the butterflies in your pulse, heat rising to your cheeks. Special. It was a little crush, one you were pretty sure was one sided. And now that crush was seated at the island bar in your kitchen. Looking ridiculously tall in such a little space.

You slide him the glass of water while rapidly trying to think of something to say, feeling like an awkward duck drowning in a pond. That’s how dumb you felt, you’re not even sure ducks can drown.

“Can ducks drown?” Wincing at the realization that you said something that stupid out loud. You go to save yourself trying to ramble about your weird thought process but were thankfully stopped short.

“I guess if they weren’t able to produce the oils to stay a-float they would. Why do you ask? Save a drowning duck recently?” The warm chuckle and smirk were comforting. In its own weird way.

‘Look at you,’ the thought comes, ‘breaking the ice and being able to maintain your awkward status. You should win a medal.’ Thankfully, this is not a thought that comes out loud.

“N-no, that would be silly, not even sure what I would do in that situation.” The giggles come unabated, a pleasant combination of flustered joy.

“It’s one of the many things I like about you,” Tsukishima continues “you always have the most interesting thoughts.”

“You have things you like about me?” Your face is hot. Butterflies turning into waves as you try to assess. The whole moment is overwhelming.

“Do you think I would have walked you home if I didn’t?”

Tsukishima doesn’t expect an answer. Enough is enough, if not now when? Taking advantage of your flustered state, Kei had rounded the little island, cornering you to a counter. Hands placed on either side you.

“You asked me to walk you home because you liked me too, didn’t you?” his voice was low in your ear, breath hot on your neck. All the sensations, the heat coming from his tall body, the smell of his cologne and him was becoming too much. Everything was just so new for you.

“I..i..i”

“Well now you have me here. Wanting you like you want me.” He quirks a brow “you do want me don’t you? Or are you just a slutty tease? How cruel of you.”

“N-no!” You weren’t a tease, you did like him, you did want to get to know him more. This was just all.. s-so so much. Too much. “I like you, I..i do! I-“

With his soft lips against yours Kei cuts you off. Its unexpectedly soft for someone re-known for their vicious tongue. Who knew that that the words of a devil hid behind the soft lips of a saint?

Easily lifting you to sit on top of your counter, Kei slips his body between your thighs as he continues to taste you, drinking your soul that comes out in whimpers. “So sweet Y/N-chan.” His lips keep softly pressing along your jaw, softly nibbling on your ear.

“Do you know what I think? I think you have been wanting me for a while. Tell me, do you think of me when you touch yourself here” long fingers teased along your inner thighs, under your skirt, to trace along your quickly dampening panties. Your head shaking no, body feeling thick with the unknown powers of lust, words not able to make it past your lips. Then he rubs your clothed clit, and it is nothing like the brief moments you have touched yourself. It’s a test that Kei has definitely studied for, your body instantly reacting, the lust building, knotting in your stomach.

Moans singing from your throat, you didn’t even realize that you had gripped onto his arms. As if they could anchor you to reality when all of your nerves were shooting off to space. Kei watched as you climbed higher, and once you were close to the precipice, so close to shattering he pulled back, kissing you soundly. “Now now, don’t want to be selfish. Don’t you want us to come together?” His grin is sharp but he still kisses you so softly. The difference makes your head spin.

“I..i have never done anything before… s’much too so-“ your whimpers are silenced by the soft lips of the devil. “I haven’t done much before either” he lies “but don’t you want me like I want you?” Of course you couldn’t, Kei thought, he wanted to own you.

“I never thought you would be so selfish Y/N” your head began to shake on your own. You weren’t selfish, you did like him. You did! Your frantically whispered “please” had the sharp grin in place.

Kei lifts you towards your bed in the corner of the room, thankful for your studio layout. Sinful tongue tracing down your neck as you are laid upon the bed. He slips skillful fingers beneath your clothes, taking his time exposing your skin. The slow burn of your innocence rising like smoke. In this moment you experience the clarity that, whatever happens tonight will change you forever. And you are powerless to stop it.

Too much too soon too much too soon too much too soon “ahhh” the shocked scream leaves your throat as Kei suckles a nipple into his mouth. The knot tightening in your stomach, winding you higher, overwhelmed by all the new textures and sensations. Nothing was as you imagined, you could have never prepared for this. “K-kei” his name spilling from your lips did something to him, grazing teeth against the sensitive nub.

As he continued to show attention to your sensitive nipples, his fingers had been tracing your bare pussy lips, gathering the wetness from between your folds. The long digits searched lower, gaining entrance into your wet heat. Stretching you open, exploring to depths that you have never dared go before. Pleasure rising within you, you begin to pant as you reach a higher peak than before, knot tightening and yet you still could not break.

“We should come together.” Kei mummers against your skin as he slowly rises up your body. You are just so small compared to him. Kissing you deeply, he moves your legs to be around his waist, letting you feel the warm hardness of his length. Looking down, nervousness began to coincide with the rising of your impending crash, he was thicker and longer than you would have ever imagined. Similar to the rest of him, the red tip angry and leaking precum as Kei rubbed it along the wetness leaking down your thighs.

“Its not going to fit” you whimper out, head tossing at the pleasure of his tip hitting your clit. “Shh shh my little lamb, don’t get selfish, you can take this like a good girl. Watch, I will show you how good you can be.” With a groan Kei grabs his length aiming at your entrance. “We will go slow, let you feel all of me”. With that he began to rock in, tip breaking through the first ring.

Head thrown back with a groan he continued to slowly rock his dick inside of you, inch by slow inch. Thumb constantly playing with your clit, rubbing against the side of the hood as he paused to let you stretch. You were so unbelievably tight, even beyond virgin expectations. Your breathing was labored, your whole world focused on the stretch between your thighs, unknowingly clenching against the intrusion. Too much too soon too much too soon.

“Easy lamb, breathe for me” Kei spoke through gritted teeth. He was capable of kindness, you were his after all. There would be plenty of time to slam into you later. You began to loosen as he cooed at you, Kei never stopping the slow rocking of his hips. After what felt like eons, he had finally broken through, balls deep inside of you, letting you adjust to his length while he caught his breath, gloating at being the one to experience your tight heat enveloping him, of being your first. And your last, if he had any say about it.

“My sweet little lamb, being such a good slut for me” Kei cooed kissing away your tears that you hadn’t even realized were on your face. “Lets cum together yea? Would you like that?” you nodded your head, ready for the fall, for the anything you just needed him to move. “Use your big girl words” Kei admonished still holding still, even his thumb had stopped moving.

“P-please Kei please move, I w-want us-s to cu-m together-r” you moaned, not even finished with your desperate pleading before Kei pulled his hips back to begin ricking his cock in. A steady yet faster pace than he had originally intended, but he was only human after all, and he needed you to cum with him. He needed you to need him.

You were overwhelmed, only capable of strangled moans of Kei, and too much, and don’t stops. His thumb continuing its assault on your clit, the pace of his hips steady and fast and deep. You could swear you could taste him, he was hitting so deep inside of you, his thick length dragging along your walls. Driving you higher and higher, to where pain was pleasure and pleasure was pain.

Kei was close. He knew you were close, could feel it as you fluttered around him. Lifting your legs to his shoulders he changed the angle, searching for the spot inside of you that would completely push you over the edge, would ruin you. With a keen cry tearing from your lips he knew that he found it. Angling his thrusts he kept up his pace knowing that it was only a matter of time.

“S’too much stop. cant cant cant” your head knocked back and forth, your body on fire, electric almost nuclear reactive. “Yes, you can. Cum for me lamb” Kei demanded. His voice hard, determined. As if his words could control sin, you shattered, body spasming as you fell back to earth, hitting every rock along the way. It was a relief filled with sharp edges, causing tears to fall and shakey breaths. Kei cooed at you, telling you what a good little slut you were for him as he fucked you through your orgasm, quickly cumming himself as you milked him dry, painting your inner walls white.

Kei pulled out, a stretched out beside you, gathering you on top of his chest. “What a sinful little lamb you are, letting me do all of that to you.” Exhaustion was overtaking your body, as you gathered your wits about you, shame starting to replace pleasure.

You tried to defend yourself, but Kei interrupted you “its ok to be a slut for me lamb. Because you want me, and now I have you.”

#seita collab #Corrupt A Virgin Collab #tsukishima x reader #Lemon #no minors allowed #minors begone #dreaming of Kei's fingers #yandere #Brivet Writings #Brivet Filth #Brivet Dark Filth

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