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#n do well <3 i rlly mean it when anxiety just fucks me up bcs i'm confident in my own self
1kook · 3 years
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viki & hickeys
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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
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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
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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. 
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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. 
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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?”
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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.”
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Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years
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How did I find your blog? I was looking for soft Kuroo content on google. And your soft birthday hc’s for him came up. And that’s also how I found tumblr
What was the first story of yours that I read? That Kuroo piece ^
Roughly, how long have I been following this blog? Well I found that piece shortly after it was posted so…. Around the beginning of December 2019 I think. Got a tumblr a few months later and you were the first person I followed (had you in my bookmarks bar before that! (still have you in my bookmarks bar and when I share my screen in classes there are occasionally questions. I ignore them))
What’s something I’ve noticed about you personality wise? You’re really clever and funny. But you’re also sweet. But because you’re clever you have no hesitation in setting up and enforcing your boundaries, and I really admire that strength and confidence.
Have we ever interacted, either by PM, ask, or in the comments? What was my perception of you? YES!!! PM, SOOOOO many asks, comments, and you sent me an ask. And reblogged it. And I cried. A lot. My perception: you’re lovely and I want to h*ld your h*nd ….please.
What’s my favorite story of yours? Oh how to choose. Firstly, I’m a nb, biracial, bisexual. Honey, I’ve never made a choice in my life. But let’s try here. Anything you’ve written for Tsukki. Literally all of it is gold. Fight me. I was going to write “especially [piece title]” but I LITERALLY CANNOT CHOOSE ONE. Your Bokuto nightmare piece. Your Kuroo angsty fight. Your Tendou dealing with S/O with parents who yell piece. Your Kinktobers. Your Futakuchi and Mattsun pieces. And your Terushima pieces. Ugh. I CANNOT CHOOSE. OH AND YOUR STREAMER KENMA!!!!!! OKay just… all of it. I can’t choose. I tried, and I failed, and I’m willing to admit failure.
What’s a story I’d love to see you write? I don’t want to say this… because it hurts me… but I just KNOW you’d write brilliant angst. Some of my fav pieces of yours are pained beginnings with happy endings. That fight with Tsukki after a bad day at work. The pieces I mentioned above (nightmare pieces and fighting pieces and angsty home life ha.. ha.ha.ha.). That Oikawa one where the reader wakes up in bed without him and thinks he left. You write these gorgeous atmospheres and descriptive, visceral feelings, and if you chose to use it for evil…. You could get evil shit done. You’re SO powerful. So I want to read it… but also…. I don’t. I’d love to see you write ABO like you mentioned a while back or just see you explore a cutesy soulmate AU or something. I think you’d be really good at writing an AU where you hear what the other person’s listening too. I feel like you’d be so good at making me feel something for someone who was in another city. (think this would be cute with Tsukki cos he’s headphones boy, OR terushima because I like the dynamic of someone flirty, who clearly cares about looks, falling for someone he can’t see) ANYWAY….
Favorite pairing you write for?/fav reader insert? Tsukishima x reader. It’s my fav self-ship. (but also Mattsun, Bokuto, Oikawa, Tanaka, and Akaashi because you write them SO WELL!!!!)
Have any of your stories helped me through a hard time? Of course. Your self-harm piece came at a time I needed it. Iwaizumi’s in particular saved my life. But also your Tendou dealing with S/O parents who fight… came right when I needed it. Also starting college… was hard.. And reading and rereading your fluff really pulled me through it.
Have any of your stories hit closer to home? YES (see above).
Do I genuinely like your blog, it’s aesthetic or posts? It’s overall feel? It’s content? Yes. The aesthetic is, ngl, a wee bit basic. But I kinda love that. And the feel? It feels like home. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Your blog is my safe space. So, yes, I love. It’s content? YES. OF COURSE. Your personality probably could have kept me here even if your content was kinda shit, but I follow you RELIGIOUSLY because of your content. So yes. I adore.
Is English my first language? Kinda??? I grew up in a trilingual household so I kinda learned three languages at the same time while growing up. But no, I don’t need to translate it in my head. Because English was one of the three.
Anything I want to share? Yes. Please keep being kind to yourself, caring for your mental health, enforcing your boundaries, loving Akaashi, and just generally being you. You’re so lovely as you are, and I hope you continue grow, but never change. Also I’m sorry about all your work stuff…. It literally makes me feel sick. And I hope you find a job where that’s not tolerated, or that your work finds a better way of protecting it’s employees. I know you know this, but none of it is your fault. I just hope things improve. AND I love you… a lot. And I’m so proud of you hitting 9K and you deserve so many more followers because your pieces are just... GORGEOUS. I can’t wait until I’m at Barnes and Noble in a few years and I can pick up a hardback copy of your debut novel. I’m so excited to say “I knew Em Akaashi (which is your legal name as far as I’m concerned) before she was so popular among the masses.”
so ive been trying to figure out the correct and worthy way to reply to this ask since the moment i got it......because its so fucking sweet and kind and amazing and pure and perfect and i just dont know how to use WORDS to explain the way it makes me feel so.......i will just reply in bullet points in regards to every question u answered to make it a lil easier :D
- the fact that u found my blog on google ....... like this may be odd and a very specific thing but before i made this blog i always hoped that 1 day my fanfic would pop up in google searches bc thats ALWAYS how i found fics when i was reading them religiously and i felt so much ENVY!!!!! LIKE I WANTED TO BE THERE I WANTED MY FICS TO B POPULAR ENOUGH TO POP UP ON GOOGLE.....that may sound very selfish but its true......so thats just very cool to me... :]
- u’ve been here for so long omg 🥺🥺🥺🥺 if anyone in ur classes ever asks jus promo my blog like its nbd 
- thats so sweet what 🥺🥺🥺 i try my best to advocate for myself and be confident for myself.....ive spent far too much of my time being silently uncomfortable because i was afraid of pushing someone’s buttons seeming rude.....but NO MORE!!!! i know what upsets me, i know my triggers, i know what i dislike experiencing, and im never gonna let myself be anxious or uncomfortable for someone else’s sake, esp if theyre being rude 2 me. i would say its less strength and confidence and moreso me attempting to take control of my anxiety in the places i can (aka on the Internet) bc i am SICK OF ANXIETY ATTACKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
- BBY no dont CRY!!!! im racking my brain trying to think of who u are i wanna know so bad so i can thank u personally for being the kindest person in the world n so i can send u more asks >:(........MY HAND IS URS TO HOLD!!!!! dont tell akaashi tho 
- OMG my TSUKKI pieces.....hes so hard to write why ;-; thank u so much im so glad u enjoy my works<3333
- NOT ANGST NOT LIKE THIS!!!!!!!!! pained beginnings to happy endings are my specialty.....IMAGINE me writing a sad ending like i CANT!!!!!!!!! ive only done it a few times and it is so Difficult.....YALL ARE SO LUCKY IM NOT EVIL!!!!!! ive had this idea for an angsty akaashi fic that i think about and write in my head every night before falling asleep and it Hurts and i wanna write it but i also can’t make myself :D ABO would be very fun but i genuinely do not know how to explore the concept while making it feel like it’s Written By Me.....u know what i mean? same with soulmate aus, i really dislike writing them because theyre just boring to me like they all feel the same everything’s been done for them.....which is FINE!!! but i write enough cliche stuff as it is HAHA, a long distance type soulmate au could be fun and interesting but ldr’s trigger me bc of a past relationship so </3 but hey maybe someone else could use the idea!!!!!
- gotta love tsukishima <3
- im rlly glad my writing could be there for you friend, one of the biggest reasons i write fanfic (and write the kind of fics i write) is bc i know firsthand how much reading sweet stories abt ur comfort characters can help u through the shittiest times - i just wanna offer ppl some support and happy feelings and love cuz sometimes fanfic is the only time we can find those things (and theres nothing shameful abt that either if anyone bullies u for reading fanfic i will fight them)
- I KNOW MY LAYOUT IS LAZY AND BASIC AS FUCK AND THAT IS BECAUSE I DO NOT GIVE A SHIT LMAOOOO so im glad u think its ok...... like i dont have the patience to create a fancy ass layout that actually works are u KIDDING ME??????? I COULD LITERALLY NEVER plus i kinda like that its just the basic kinda ugly boring default layout like it makes it simple and easy and i feel like it brings focus to the only thing on this blog that i care about which is my writing, i rlly only care about the content here and not aesthetics jdbljdabsdk that blue background will be there til i Die......i adore u more btw 
- WHOA trilingual what the hell ur so cool tell me more 
- you have my word, friend, that i will continue to do all of that so long as you do the same. take care of yourself, be kind to yourself - i know u can do it, ur so kind to others and u deserve to be kind to urself, too so this is the part that genuinely brought me to tears because *sappy dumb shit ahead* ok look ever since i can remember the one and only thing ive wanted to do with my life is become an author ...... dreams of book covers with my name written on them and words in pages written by me and fanart of my characters and going into my local bookstore n seeing my book there....these thoughts all haunt my fucking brain because i want it SO BAD!!!!!!!! so bad that it makes me CRY!!!!!!!! ive never wanted something more and just!!!!!!!!!!!! idk how much u meant that part but holy fuck!!!!!! i hope so bad that one day i can send u a free copy of my book as a thank u for being the person u are. u have all my love friend, every last bit of it <333333333
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kyovtani · 3 years
Text
ASKS
hey babies! i’ve decided to answer the asks about back to life one and two like this because ive received so so so many and you guys blew me away so answering every single one of them is the least i can do to show you guys just how grateful i am. thank you so much for giving both parts SO much love, i love and appreciate you guys and the support you’re constantly sending my way with my whole entire heart <33
BYE THE FIC IS SO GOOD SO FAR. MY ANXIETY THO FROM THE ENDING, LIKE PLS KYO REALIZE THE MCS ANXIETY PLS DONT GO OUT WITH SORA PLEASE PLEASE HE SEEN HOW SHE DIDNT LOOK OKAY WHEN HE CAME IN PLEASE REALIZE HER ANXIETY PLEASE
– THANK YOU SO SO MUCH BABY !! this was the very first ask about back to life and it’s honestly the cutest thing ever! I hc Kyoutani to be rally understanding of things like anxiety and depression, generally mental health so that’s why it was easy for him to understand the reader’s situation and mindset! 
BACK TO LIFE!!!!!!!! MY HEART!!!!!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD!!!!! i was really excited when you started posting about it!! i can't wait for part 2, i wanna know how they fix this!
AAAH !! thank you so much for the love and support baby!!!! I really hope you enjoyed part 2 just as much, sending you lots of smooches MWAH
OH MY GOD THE KYO FIC IS AMAZING
THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY !!!!! 
OH MY GOD YOUR KYOUTANI FIC HAS ME ACTUALLY FROTHING I LOVE IT SM
IM NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAY THAT MY JAW ACTUALLY DROPPED AT THE LAST COUPLE PARAGRAPHS AS WELL I CANT WAIT FOR PART 2
AAAH YOU GUYS !!! this made me so happy !!! thank you so much and I hope part two met your expectations and you enjoyed the ending MWAH!! 
HOLY FUCK THAT KYOUTANI FIC WHEW IT WAS SO SO GOOD IM SO EXCITED FOR PART 2
thank you for the food <33
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT BABY !!!
YOUR KYOTANI FIC AHHHHHHH my heart can’t handle this
I AM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT BABY !!!
OW THE END ON BACK TO LIFE HURTED THOUGH GDFGHJDFHJRY
Was overwhelmed by the hurty that I forgot to say how much I ADORE your characterization of Kyoutani. fdjkhgjkgdr
THANK YOU SO MUCH !! honestly- that means the world to me, probably the best compliment you can give me :((
Back to life was so good OMG 😳😳 HELLO??? You're amazing
Thank you so much, my love! it honestly is everything to me when you guys tell me such sweet things I love you so much MWAH!!
the new fic did not help me with my insecurities now i’m just frustrated and insecure. great writing tho.
honestly- same. when I wrote this, I lit indulgent every bit of my mind working into this fic and thats why it means so much to me ?? so youre not alone, my love; but thank you so much <33
The way I panicked at the end of the fic thinking there wasn’t gonna be more to it, holy shi that fox was so good I almost cried thinking they were just gonna end things like that 🥺🥺🥺🥺
I’d NEVER end a fic like that- I hate bad endings and cannot stand cliffhangers but the formatting didn't give me another choice im sorry for the heart attack baby kfhflashsj but am glad you liked it!
@au-roraaa said: ZADE I WAS NEVER A KYO FUCKER BUT I THINK YOUVE CONVERTED ME HOLY FUCKSJFJSJDJSN
THIS IS MY JOB AT THIS POINT I WANT YOU ALL TO TURN INTO KYOU FUCKERS KSSSOH 
UR THE BEST WRITER WTF?? WHEN DO U THINK PART TWO WOULD BE UP... and does kyoutani flirt with sora 😣💔
YOU GUYS- NOOO- pls my heart made a loop :(( I love you so much :(( thank you baby and I think now you know what he does with sora MWAH
@kawakuto said: hi hi zade!🤩 (ajdjs idk if you remember me but i moved main blogs and I was @/gukooky before LOL) THE KYOUTANI FIC ANDJWNS I DIDNT EXPECT THE END WAHHHH🥺🥺 it was so well written omg I loved it!! (wtf kyoutani, you said we were going slow what if I wasn’t ready to call u my boyfriend wtffff😔😔 pain.)
AAAAH OFC I DO REMMEBER !! hope youre doing well baby !!! and thank you SO much for your sweet words, I honestly appreciate them so much :((<33
pls I’m in love with your writing. You write kyoutani so well so now I’ll always be grabbing at any crumbs you send my way 🥵
thank you so so so much baby!!!! these kinda words always hit me right at the heart, I appreciate them so much and I love you sm much
bb i love ur kyoutani fic sm :(( ur rlly so talented <33 i look forward to pt 2 ^3^
thank you so much baby, sending a smooch your way mwah 
zade that kyoutani piece im in so much pain why would u do this to me 💔💔💔💔
believe me when I say It hurt me even more than you </3
I just finished reading part 2 and it waS SO GOODAJSFHJLFG you did amazing!! (n˘v˘•)¬
THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY !!!
Hi! New nonnie coming through :) First time I'm writing something because I'm such a nervous wreck but I just had to
THE FIC WAS SO GOOD THE VIBES ARE CHEFS KISS. IT WAS SO GOOD I LITERALLY DROOLED I CAN NOT GET OVER IT !
Mister kyotani pls rail me thanks 🐱
THANK YOU AAAH YOURE SO CUTE !!! I truly appreciate this with my whole entire heart so thank you so much baby, hope you have a good one mwah
Wait did he do anything with Sora?
nope!! they just went to the party together but in my mind he didn’t even hug her and she didn’t try anything else, too, simply bc she knew how in love he is with reader!!
YOUR MINDDDDD!! THE KYOU FIC WAS SOOOO GOOOD!! Omg i hope you do a part 3 😭😭
i have a Little sequel which is really really soft but I'd love to write some more for it! 
@soranihimawari said: Part 1 & 2 with kyoutani was amazing as always Zade! I really liked the ending. This was such a fun read. I was wondering who’s else would be sharing the apartment with Kyoutani. What made you choose tattoo artist Iwa & Oikawa? Those two made me chuckle with the way they came in like that. Hope you have a great day/evening/late night/etc.
✌🏼&💜
—sora—
aaah thank you so so much, baby!! I truly appreciate your sweet words, youre the cutest! regarding your question: You shares an apartment with Iwa, Oikawa and Yahaba (who also works at the tattoo studio!) and i don't know to be really honest- I just like the thought of these three being really good friends so after contemplating whether or not to go with iwaoi or matsuhana, I ended up going with those two dorks! hope you have a good one baby mwah!!
@sakusapetals said: PLEASEE I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH
AAAH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH BABY !!! I LOVE YOU SM 
How long did it take you to write the entire two parts? Like wow that’s alot👁👄👁 i adore long fics though
oooh- hm ?? tbh i don't really know ?? I can’t remember ?? I think it took me about a month or like three weeks since I did write it all in one go yk? it was the only WIP I worked on during that time and it felt SO relieving to publish it! 
AAAHHH the kyou fic was a masterpiece bb!!! ❤️❤️
thank you so so so much baby!!<33
U LITERLALT WRIYE KYOU THE BEST ABSOLUTE BEST. he’s so aggressive and demanding but he still is willing to show someone special his vulnerability. I LOVE READING STUFF ABOUT HIM FROM U
AAAAH thank you so much- you guys have no idea how much these kinda comments mean to me- I love you so MUCH MWAH 
I just read the first part of "back to life" an it had me speechless so many times, almost cried at the end, it's honestly so well written. I'm off to read part two. Have a nice day 🐰
sdoalfsla thank you so much baby! I hope you enjoyed both parts equally as much and thank you for all the love mwah!!<3
Hana is a baddie
SHE IS!! she’s literally the baddest bitch to ever exist ft. saeko ofc but nobody acknowledges it </3
@tonhwa said: I’m in love with the way you write kyoutani pls. Even your previous fics on your old account ( if you don’t mind me mentioning it ) are so fucking amazing. GOSH YOU CHARACTERIZE HIM SO WELL AND THE PLOT IS ALWAYS SO JUICY AND INTERESTING I CANT HELP BUT GO BACK AND READ IT. and then you release this fucking wonderful piece and I feel like it’s my birthday even though it’s already passed LOL ty ily have a wonderful day I’m sobbing tears of happiness
YOU GUYS PLEASE- the fact this made me tear up when I first read it- thank you SO much honestly. knowing you guys enjoy my characterization of my favorite character is honestly everything to me so thank you sm I love you baby have a good one!!<3
I’ve been on this app from high school, and now I’m a college grad. I have to say I’ve never sent a message to anyone I’ve followed. But that tattoo artist! Kyou fic, part 1 and 2 are 😩💕 *chefs kiss* you are one of my favorite writers I’ve ever followed since joining this app. You NEVER disappoint!
-💕 a very satisfied reader
thank you so much baby!! aaah this is honestly so so sweet :(( thank you for taking the time out of your day to send me such a sweet thing, I appreciate it and you so much mwah!!
i gotta say babe THANK YOU FOR THE KYOTANI CONTENT!! muAAAAHH💞💞
NOO THANK YOU GUYS FOR GIVING IT SO MUCH LOVE MWAH!!!
i love kyoutani and he obvs deserves his dick sucked 🤧🤧 but i catch him posting up with other girls I DONT CARE THE SITUATION he gonna catch these hands for a real one 👊🏼👆🏼🤜🏼🥊🥊 kidding 😐😐😐 he’d body me
pls the way this had me chuckling like crazy bc same sajlskjpw he can get mad all he want but he better stay his pretty ass where he is- by my side  😌
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sugarpun-fairy · 5 years
Text
BEING A FAN AND DATING JOEL PIMENTEL - HEADCANNON
A/n: i was just fooling around w my mate @brattybombshell when this came up LAST MONTH I’M LATE FOR EVERYTHING SO PLS FORGIVE ME
also this is huge so yeah, enjoy urselves 
-x-
He meets you on the meet&greet  
You're all shy and nervous and almost pass out too like the girl from that vid and he's enchanted
P.S. it's your first show ever
And you bring everyone a letter with a small gift in it
The boys joke with you the entire time, trying to make you loosen up a little
You notice some of Joel's looks at you but you're like  
Nah, fam, me? Nop.
But the thing is that YES, FAM, YOU!
He's curious about you, your laugh and puns (that are just worse than Erick's)
He looks like a KID trying to find you when he's on stage  
But he can't
You were too far for him to see you and oh if he could bring you closer (like to his side) HE WOULD
After the show he's asking the whole staff to find you  
They can't
So he nicknames you Cinderella
You stole his heart and left without letting any traces
But he remembers your letter
He search for it like a dog searching a bone it dug on the backyard
He wants anything he can find about you, he NEEDS
A name, an address, an user
Homeboy is SO relieved when he finds your letter  
When he reads it and see your number there? He's on the clouds
He could swear he wouldnt complain about ANYTHING ever AGAIN  
Well, if you answered to a number from another country at least
He calls you  
He text you  
And you're like WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING MATE
That's when you pick up and he's like "hey it's me Joel"
You almost faint right there
Let's say that the show was on a Saturday and he's calling you at like
3 AM
And he's like PLEASE COME MEET ME I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU and you're like FUCK
Your flight is booked to the afternoon
You dont have this much time
The two of you don't even sleep
He sends a car to pick you up and you're a bit scared but SO excited (bc let's be honest the world is rlly dangerous for girls/women)
You didnt had time to put on makeup, just a quick shower so when you meet him you're all "oh boy I should have dressed up better why didnt I listened to my mom" AND HE LOOKS AT YOU AND HIS EYES FUCKING SHINE
That's when you stop, freeze and thinks  
"Fuck  
He's too much sand for my paper truck"
Then you see he's wearing the choker you gave him
And you melt
He's like "do you know a place we can go?" And you're like "I DONT LIVE HERE FUCK HE MUST THINK IM PATHETIC AND MUST BE REGRETTING CALLING ME HERE”
He finds it adorable how your body language shows your nervousness  
You can't keep eye contact  
But then you do
And then he's like "fuck" and you're like "fuck"  
And he's like "if you dont feel uncomfortable we could just get some snacks and stay at my room and talk about life" and you're so nervous you just shake your head
You see the amount of letters and gifts in his bed and you're like  
"IM REALLY HERE HOLY FUCK"
He doesnt make any move if he feels you're too uncomfortable  
So by the sunrise you're both sitting beside the other eating something from room service and he's listening to you rambling about your life
(He finds it adorable how distracted you get when you're talk and how sometimes you mix languages)
Then you stop talking and just sits back  
He's like omfgwhatdidido
And you're like imtalkingtoomuchheprollythinksimboring
You two stand there in silence and you look at the window
Sun is rising
His window is pointed straight at its direction
Mate
You love that boy  
But theres nothing more magical than the sun rising so you just go
And he goes after you
Mate it's beautiful
The sun, all the colors
But hes not looking at it
Hes looking at how even more beautiful your smile gets when the sun hits your face
"I'm sorry can I kiss you?" He snaps  
You're pretty sure you heard it wrong  
"What? Wait really? Yes please!"  
He nods and laugh  
You're smaller so he's leaning down and suddenly you're so nervous YOU BURST OUT LAUGHING
Your next thought is "I fucked up" so yeah you cry a bit  
You can't lie and say you hadn't cried already because the whole thing was SO UNREAL
The show  
The meet  
Being there with him
When he tries again it works
His hands are around your face then on your nape  
You dare to put your on his shoulder and his hair
His hair is SOFT
You guys keep touch
Using instagram since you doesnt have iOS (you tell him you hate it and won't ever trade your lil samsung, he gives you one anyway just bc he can)
You're not sure how to feel about it
First you're on the show  
Second you're kissing him at sunrise on his hotel room  
Third he's sending you gifts just so you can talk more?????????
Anxiety kicks in OF COURSE it's way too much
He stops telling he's single on interviews  
The boys tease him about it all the time
Talking about his Cinderella
There's a whole move on Twitter to find out who she is
You know who she is
Sometimes you're insecure  
About his career  
About you two  
About the fandom  
About EVERYTHING
He's always reassuring you about how he feels and doesnt care about anything else
(Your answer is always the same: anything else but music)
You're scared you'll start annoying him w your insecurities
So you start talking to the other boys too about it
Guess who slips that Joel wants to take you to tour with them when you can?
its hard to convince your parents, your vacation from work and college are not at the same time and you're like FUCK
the tour ends and you cant go and you're feeling so down
until he texts you saying he'll go to your country to see you
WE GOT POSTS EVERYWHERE "Is he going to see his so called Cinderella? So that means they met during the tour? Make your bets everyone"
it's crazy
you spend the first nights with him at the hotel before going to your house
the feeling of him being too much for you hits you everyday
gets worse when he goes to meet your family and youre like oh boy
you're so nervous you almost throw up
and everyone be like IM SORRY WAHT and you be like WE NEVER DID ANYTHING STOP RIGHT THERE
he spends that night at your house
its you, him, and your pet
and when you wake up you starts crying because you still can't believe
he also loves to hear you sing, even tho HE'S the singer there
its just a thing he likes, how you try your best even if you hate your own voice
a couple days before he goes back home he's like "get your passport i want you to go with me" and youre like "SO IF I TELL YOU ITS NOT THAT FAST WHAT WILL U DO"
and he just goes "JUST GET UR PASSPORT I HAVE A COUPLE MONTHS OFF AND I WANT YOU TO MEET MY FAMILY TOO"
At moment you're thinking if you could just leave everything behind and go live w him
part of you wants to
part of you is like "WHAT IF HE GETS TIRED OF YOU AND LEAVE YOU AND YOULL BE ALONE IN ANOTHER COUNTRY WHAT WILL YOU DO"
U insecure again
he talks to your parents, assure them you'll be fine
so you go
at first is just a short time
no one will die because of a little vacation right?
WRONG you're both destroyed when you have to go home
what do to? what to do?
stay? go? (SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO TANANANANA sorry)
you know he wants to ask you to stay, he knows he cant ask you that
you turn to him and be like "if i find a job here and have the proper documents ill stay" bc you dont wanna be a burden and want to have your own independence too
also california  im not sure if he does live in california but for fictional purposes the answer is yes
one of your dreams
so you stay
he finds a small ap for you to share and his mom helps you find a nice job
when you're all set he turns to you and be like "i want to make us public" and you kinda just freezes right there
you've been together for almost a year now so why not? you end up going for it
-x-
taglist: @southside-sweets @batboys-and-other-messes @imaginesandideas @brattybombshell
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sophia1644 · 7 years
Text
Hot Water
Pairing: Theo x Reader (bc I'm theo trashhh) Warnings: swearing, blood and mentions of injuries, not quite smut but flirting, nakedness and undressing, couple being in a bath together (but not like smutty, it's actually rlly fluffy) (but at one point it's kind of heated so yeah) Summary: Y/N gets worried that Theo forgot about their plans, but it turns out he got hurt badly somehow while with the Pack. So, Y/N being the amazing girlfriend she is, helps give him a bath to clean off all the dirt and blood all over him. A/N: can we just all take a moment of appreciation for tHEO rAEKEN. like seriously, this boy is finally being brought into the Pack and I'm LiViNg for it. Hope you enjoy this cute little fic I wrote today and thx for 100 notes on the last one ;) HOT WATER I sigh, standing in front of the mirror, just staring at my reflection. The bags starting to form under my eyes were absolutely hideous. I'd been up since 10 pm waiting for Theo, who said he'd be here by then. I reach out, over the bathroom sink, grabbing my phone and looking at the time. 1:47 am, and still no sign of him. I was honestly starting to get worried. It wasn't like him to forget about plans, and on the rare occasion that it did slip his mind, as soon as he remembered he would send me a text. But, no, no text. I start getting restless, my mind reaching crazy impossibilities like he'd been captured by Gerard or maybe Scott stopped thinking he'd changed from his old ways and just killed him. I shake my head, dismissing the ideas that were clouding my common sense. My unsteady hand moves forward, grasping the sink handle and pulling it, a stream of water pouring down the spout. I cup my hands together, bending over and splashing the pool of water into my face. I pull out the top drawer below the sink, retrieving my hairbrush and beginning the task of calming the wild strands splaying across my head. It kept me busy for a while, until the thoughts of Theo came flooding back into my mind. I click the power button of my phone on again, seeing that it was now 3 am. I gave in, tapping onto his contact and pressing his phone number. No answer. I try again. No answer. I groan, pushing both of my hands into my hair, combing it back. My brows lift and my eyes light up. Before I can rethink my action, I dial Scott's number. It rings once, my foot tapping impatiently. It rings again, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. "Y/N?" A panicked voice asks. "Scott? What's wrong?" I ask, hearing some wailing in the background, and the terrible engine of Roscoe. "Y/N, we're coming over to your place right now!" Scott shouts, the worry in his voice making my anxiety rise. "Scott-" I begin, but he hangs up. I look at my reflection with wide eyes, hoping that nothing too bad had happened. I leave the bathroom, going down the hall to my bedroom and throwing on one of Theo's oversized t-shirts over my nightgown. I call out for my parents, but no one answers, meaning they decided to book a hotel room instead of driving an hour back home. Thank god for weekly date night. I rush down the wooden staircase, my heart pounding as I open my front door. I'd rather sit on the front steps, basking in the moonlight, where I could see the blue Jeep pull up, rather than wait inside. After what feels like forever in the warm, summer air, I hear a car driving down the far end of my street. I perk up, standing to peer over the bushes blocking my view. I let out a breath I was holding in, feeling the happiest I've ever been, seeing that worn down Jeep. Stiles parks Roscoe dead in front of the path that leads to where I'm standing, Scott jumping out, even before it fully stops. He runs to me, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. He grabs onto my shoulders with his hands. "He'll heal, okay? Just remember that," he whispers. "What?" I query, my hands shaking. I wiggle my way out of his grasp, looking over his shoulder, physically weakening at the sight. Theo stands limply, wincing as Malia and Stiles try to help him get into the house. My breathing quickens, Lydia emerging from behind him, running over to me and wrapping me in a hug. "It'll be okay," she whispers. I take in a deep breath, managing to nod in response. As he gets closer, my eyes trail over the rips in his clothes, the gashes in his chest, and how he's basically covered head to toe in blood. His cool blue eyes meet mine, in a sort of determination, his movements becoming faster. He reaches me with the help of Stiles and Malia, Stiles moving so that I can take his place. I gently lift Theo's arm over my shoulder, trying my hardest to not break at how hard he's trying to conceal his pain from me. I don't care about the droplets of bright red dripping down his face as I kiss his cheek. "Are- they h-" his voice is hoarse, so I stop him, my hand resting on his chest. "Stop pushing yourself," I whisper soothingly, knowing that him trying to talk right now, was not going to help anyone. "And no, my parents aren't home. They're staying at some hotel for the night." He gives me a forced smile, and I motion to upstairs, silently asking if he thinks he can reach the top. Being who he is, he nods firmly. "Okay, let's just take it slow," I whisper and he nods again. Malia lets go of his right side, so he can grip onto the railing himself, but I stay by his left side, taking each step slowly with him. "There you go," I encourage. "Only two more steps till the top." He groans, pausing and taking in a sharp breath. "You know I love you, right?" He states through uneven breathing. "You have no idea how much I love you," I retort. His eyes scan my features and I grin, urging him to keep going. "Raeken, you're not quitting on me now," I laugh weakly. At my words, he takes the last two steps, reaching the top and falling into me. I gasp, but quickly regain my own balance to hold him up. I guess those workouts he forced me to do with him, actually came in handy. Scott, who was walking close behind us the whole way up the stairs, clutches onto the other side of him. Theo grunts at the impact, but gives Scott a thankful smile. "The bathroom," I say. "I need to get him washed up." They nod as we make our way down the hall, the trail of dark red liquid seeping into the carpet. I pray those stains will come out or else I won't hear the end of it from my mom, not even mentioning how to explain how the crazy amount of blood got there in the first place. (Maybe lying and saying I had a huge nosebleed. No? Okay.) I let go of Theo, creaking the bathroom door open to let Scott haul him inside. Scott softly helps Theo down onto the floor as I run to my room to grab a few towels. I return with the layers of cloth stacked in my hands, when Scott stops me outside of the bathroom by grabbing onto my forearm. "Are you good to deal with this on your own?" He questions. I scoff, patting him on the back. "If anyone can deal with Theo, it's me." "True," Scott laughs. "We'll all be just a phone call away." "Yeah!" Malia yells from downstairs. I chuckle light-heartedly, thanking Scott for helping while the rest of the Pack leaves. "Anytime." He kisses me on the top of my hair, in the brotherly way he always did, saying a goodbye, and closing the front door behind him. I turn back to Theo, who's propped his back up against the wall while sitting on the cold tile. I kneel down next to him, giving him a sad smile, dropping the towels onto the floor beside me. "What the hell happened?" I query. Theo chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know." I bite back my questions, knowing to fix him up, then interrogate him after. I take ahold of the hem of his shirt, looking up at him. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?" "Trust me, Y/N," he remarks. "Whenever you take off my shirt, it's far from hurting me." My jaw drops and I slap his arm lightly. He raises his arms in mock defense, the wince from it not going unnoticed by me. "Just saying," he laughs. "Raeken you're very lucky that you're injured right now." "The person in pain would say otherwise." I roll my eyes, going back to the task at hand. Theo helps me by raising his arms, him wincing too many times for my comfort, as I pull the fabric upwards as fast as possible over his head, exposing his toned chest. I take the time to examine his wounds carefully, my thumb grazing over a gash that makes Theo take in a sharp breath. "Sorry," I apologize, widening my eyes and tenderly grabbing his jaw in my hand, rubbing his cheek with the pad of my thumb. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. "It's okay, just finish undressing me." "Normally, we're in different circumstances when you say those words." "Oh, trust me I know," he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows wildly at me, causing me to stifle a laugh. I stand up, putting my hands out to help him up as well. He's hesitant at first, but eventually grabs on. I surprise both myself and him when I'm able to hoist him up with little help on his part. "Fuck," he says incoherently. "How did I now just realize how hot you look in my shirt?" Heat rises to my cheeks as quickly as he utters those words, resulting in a smug look on his face from how he was capable of making me blush with only a few words. I bend down, still a bit flustered, undoing the button and zipper on his jeans, my fingers digging into the waistband and pulling them down. I start the bath, pushing the knob all the way to the hottest temperature, just how Theo liked it. Countless mornings had taught me that, along with how he enjoyed his pancakes with an ungodly amount of syrup. Theo's fingers hook beneath the thin material of his boxers, but I stop him. "Let me," I breathe. A smirk plays across his lips as he looks down at me, but I ignore him. I pull down his last article of clothing, and shimmy under his arm to help him into the bath tub. He sighs in relief when his foot hits the water, the rest of his body easily following. Within milliseconds, his whole body is submerged under the hot water, except for his shoulders and up, an expression of euphoria plastered on his face. The mirror above the sink starts steaming up when I remember something. "I'll go get some bath salts," I say, knowing that they helped me relax, so it wouldn't hurt for him to test them out. "Okay, just come back quick." My mouth turns upwards at his neediness, finding it really cute. I close the distance between us, bending down and pushing back the messy hair on the top of his head. I plant a wet kiss on his forehead, my hand trailing down to his cheek, Theo brushing his lips against the palm of my hand in response. I pull away from him, the warmth abruptly disappearing without his touch. I go into my room to get the pink salts, returning almost immediately. I pour some of them into the bath, at the far end of the tub. I sit down on a yellow towel laying on the floor right beside Theo, shamelessly staring at the beautiful boy soaking in front of me. Even with dried blood caking parts of his brown hair, he looks damn good, and I kind of hate him for it. His thick brows are a deep brown, complementing his strikingly bright blue eyes. His rosy lips were another story; just the thought of them against my own made butterflies erupt in my stomach. The dark stubble dotting along his jawline, that often rubbed against my cheeks, made me tremble a bit. Every part of this boy was breathtaking and I knew there'd never be a day that I would get tired of the sight. "Y/N," Theo mumbles, his eyelids still shut. "Stop staring," he teases, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his blue eyes open to focus in on me. "Am I not allowed to check my boyfriend out?" I ask, dipping my hand in the water and splashing his face. His jaw slacks, looking at me with wide eyes before splashing me back. "Theo!" I squeal, my clothes getting completely drenched. "Sorry, but payback's a bitch," he jokes. I scoff, pealing the wet t-shirt off of me. Theo's eyes rake over my body, his tongue skimming over his lips, his posture straightening. "You're going to kill me," he growls. I furrow my brows, looking down and realizing that the slip I was wearing was a little more translucent than I thought, especially because of how soaked it was. I smirk, my hands twirling all the strands of my hair on top of my head, creating a messy bun. My eyes stay glued on Theo the whole time, watching him devour my every movement. "Now who's staring?" I tease, my hands resting on my hips triumphantly. "If it weren't for me being in pain every second I move, you would be so paying for wearing that thing. Or rather, lack of." "You're drooling, Raeken." "Please come in here with me," he begs, splashing the water around as he moves to make room for me, wincing at the motion. "I'll have to think about it," I say while pursing my lips, looking up at the ceiling, and feigning deep in thought. "Please," he groans. I laugh, but fall for those puppy eyes of his when I look back at him. They were my all time weakness when it came to him. I honestly believed that those things could stop wars. "Okay," I agree, his eyes lighting up. "But, only to scrub you down." Theo smiles as my right foot dips into the tub behind him, the water rippling. I sink into the hot bath, squeezing my legs on either side of him and getting a perfect view of the expanse of skin that was Theo's back. His hands find my thighs, his fingers swirling designs over the delicate skin. I extend my arm out of the bath, clutching the body wash. I put a dollop of the soap in my hands, rubbing the product to create some bubbles. I know a lot of girls enjoyed abs, but the muscles that flexed as my hands rubbed into Theo's back were way too underrated. I massaged the apple-scented foam into his shoulder blades, a contented sigh leaving Theo's mouth, his body relaxing more with every passing second. "Feel good?" I ask, my hands pausing. He reaches behind himself, grabbing onto my hand and pushing it against his shoulder again. "Don't stop," he mumbles and I obey. This goes on for a while until his whole back is clean of any dirt or blood, his eyes closed in a state of bliss. "Can you lean back for me?" I whisper, him complying swiftly, his bare back flush against my chest, his body comfortably settled between my legs. I begin rubbing the product into his torso, feeling the faint heartbeat under my fingers. Theo turns his head a little, his mouth capturing my neck, sucking at some places while just leaving pecks at others. I notice that his gashes and scratches were already at the later stages of healing, so he was perfectly able, at this point, to do this himself, but I couldn't stop, because he just looked so happy; how his dark eyebrows were raised slightly, how the corners of his lips upturned, and how he lay kisses on any part of me that was exposed to him. I finish lathering him with the body wash, squeezing the shampoo into my hands. Theo had a massive thing for me running my fingers through his hair; he practically begged me to do it whenever we were together. So, the moment my nails scratch delicately against his scalp, he lets out a guttural moan. "Fuck," he murmurs, my fingers running through his soft brown hair, wondering who was enjoying this more. "I honestly don't deserve you," he states, giving me a genuine smile. I laugh, tugging his hair back gently so that I could give him a chaste kiss on his cheek. Even after I finished washing him up and all his wounds healed, we stayed in the hot water, his back against me as I played with his hair, his lips on my neck every once and a while. "You still haven't told me why you ended up like this," I say, my brows knitting together. Theo bites the corner of his lip, turning to face me and shrugging. This boy was something else.
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sunbaethehuman-blog · 7 years
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Indecisive - ( Pt. 1)
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Yoongi Angst | Taehyung x Reader
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (coming soon)
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader | Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff, BTS x Reader, series
Author’s note: SECOND FANFIC AYYYYY. I’ve been writing this one since….. this summer maybe?? lol idk im lazy af and i still have other stuff to write. RLLY GOOD STUFF TOO. ive been into angst stuff lately bc i love to break my heart over n over again :’))) thats my kink guys!!! getting my heart broken!! haha jk im srry i will sto p anyways. I love yoongi with all my heart,,,, but i also love taehyung with all my heart so i was like WHY NOT AHAHAHA bias vs bias wrecker ok now i’m overdoing this author’s note thing im srry pls enjoy btws i posted this without rlly reviewing it so YEAH LETS GET IIIIIIT
“Ew, what kind of face is that?” a low voice asked, looking at the screen on the phone you were holding up, the front camera facing you and raven haired male that sat next to you as you took a selfie. You had your face scrunched up, eyes rolled up to the point where the only the whites of your eyes were shown, you clicked the camera shutter.
“What’s wrong with silly pictures?” You pouted and turned to your date. As he looked back at you, he scoffed, “you call that silly? That’s more ugly than it is silly.” His tone was serious but you knew his humor consisted of roasts.
You couldn’t help but laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, “Okay, okay. We’ll take a good one.” Your hand still in position, you smiled at the camera showing teeth, while the young man smirked. Click. “There we go.” You cooed. The lights began dimming, indicating the movie was about to begin so you put your phone away.
You were amazed by the fact you were able to ask Yoongi out on a date to the cinema. You weren’t sure how to go about it but you asked your best friend, Taehyung for advice, he seemed weird about it but eventually he said to just go for it. You and Yoongi were good friends to begin with but you felt something else go on between you two (a lot of sexual awkward tension to be exact). For a while, neither of you acknowledged it, knowing it could possibly ruin your friendship, and that’s something the neither of you wanted.
Deciding to see a romantic comedy, Yoongi was first against it, but it was the only thing you could stand watching. Horror wasn’t your cup of tea, so Yoongi let it slide. To your surprise, you heard Yoongi laughing along beside you. Looking at him laughing, you couldn’t help but smile too.
Then, a sudden burst of happiness hit you. It was weird–it would happen from time to time and it’d come at the most random times. The feeling was strong and passionate that just couldn’t be ignored.
“Hey, Yoongi…” you began, but you stopped. Yoongi’s phone was vibrating in his pocket. As the screen lit up, his eyebrows knitted together, “ahh, what can I do..” he flashed his phone at you, “it’s Suran. I’ll be back.” Answering his call in a low whisper, he got up from his seat and walked while crouching, trying not to block people from veiwing the movie and walked outside of the movie theater.
All of your firey passion was gone in an instant. Your heart’s content was quickly replaced with sadness. ‘Why am I being like this..? It’s not like he’s leaving.. Ohmygod. Am I jealous?’ You felt frustrated about your own feelings. ‘No! I can’t be. They’re both my friends.’
Holding a burdensome conversation with yourself, a voice whispered into your ear, “I’m so sorry,” it was Yoongi. Making you snap out of the lonesome quarrel, you turned your head towards him, “Suran is… in need of my help. I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
To your understanding, you nodded, “alright. No worries, I hope everything’s fine..!” and with that, he rushed back out.
Trying to keep your cool, you sunk into your seat, ‘they’re both my friends… then why am I feeling like this?’ you could only ask yourself that same question over and over.
‘Next time, maybe?’ you asked yourself. The autumn night breeze blew your hair, chilling your cheeks and runny nose. The hoodie you wore under your jean jacket kept you warm. After Yoongi left, you had been in a sour mood and decided to leave without finishing the movie. You felt like you needed to take a walk, and that’s what you did. It felt nice to have some time to yourself and sort out these senses.
Getting home, you plopped down onto your bed, spreading your limbs out. Staring at the ceiling, you contiplated whether or not to text Yoongi. And after many debates, you finally decided yes. Pulling out your phone from your purse and clicking the message app, you picked Yoongi’s contact.
YOU: Hey, how is Suran doing? Is everything okay?
After a few minutes, you recieved a reply.
Yoongi-nie: Hey, everything’s fine, I guess. her boyfriend broke up with her so she needed my moral support… how was the movie? sorry i didn’t stick around long enough to see the ending. did they end up together?
YOU: oh no that’s terrible. HE DIDN’T DESERVE HER. HE’S AN ASS. I got her back, tell her that. and the movie was good. :) you lied guess we gotta redo this lil date so you can find out for yourself! haha
The reply from Yoongi took a little longer than you had hoped.
Yoongi-nie: Date? i didn’t know this was a date… i thought we were only hanging out….
What–. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Your heart was pounding hard against your chest.
YOU: Oh, hanging out? lol then do u want to go on a date sometime with me…?
At that point, you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Turning your screen off, you screamed while throwing your phone to the other side of your bed. The anticipation and anxiety began to build. “WHY DID I DO THAT? JEEZ, FUCK. OHMYGOD. NOOO. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK–” Ding! You received a message.
Quickly crawling to the other side of your bed, you flipped over your phone and rushed to unlock it.
Yoongi-nie: No. Sorry. I don’t like you like that. I always thought I treated you like my annoying little sister, but I don’t want to keep leading you on. I’m sorry but I don’t feel that way.
Your heart sunk. It was the end. Honestly, you didn’t know what you were expecting. Your life isn’t like the romantic comedies. You weren’t going to get the boy. It happens.
YOU: Ahhh. Okay. Sorry, I misunderstood. I probably made you feel uncomfortable. Thanks for telling me the truth, though. I really appreciate it.
Yoongi-nie: Are you okay? I don’t want you to be depressed or anything.
At this point, your heart felt destroyed.
YOU: OMG. Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I just need some time if that’s okay.
Yoongi-nie: Take all the time you need. Again, I’m sorry.
YOU: Don’t apologize. It’s okay, seriously. Goodnight.
Yoongi-nie: Goodnight.
Recieving that last text, you set your phone on silent and played music. You didn’t think playing your favorite songs could make you feel so sad.
———————————————————————————————————–
The next day felt draining. Although you didn’t have work, your morning wasn’t as enjoyable as it could’ve been. Doing what you usually do on your day off, you jumped into the shower. Since you had no plans of going out, you only changed into comfy sweats and a t-shirt, and tied your hair up into a pony-tail. Next, you cleaned your apartment while listening to music that blasted through your speakers. It was a good distraction until you heard a knock at the door.
Turning down the music, you took a look at yourself in the mirror that hanged in the hallway before the front door and moved away misplaced strands of hair out of your face then opened the door.
It was Taehyung wearing his baggy tan hoodie and ripped blue jeans. He had what seemed like bags filled with food in his hands. “Good morning!” He smiled. You were able to keep it together since the night before and all morning but for some reason, seeing your best friend’s face made you break into tears. “Taaaaaehyuuuuung..!” you sobbed.
The brunette’s smile was wiped off with concern and confusion, “woah, woah what happen?” He closed the door behind him and placed the bags onto the table before wrapping his lengthy arms around you.
His warm embrace made you cry into his chest even harder and hug back. All that was heard were muffled sobs. “There, there.” he said softly, stroking the top of your head. He was patient with you, he always was. And it was rare to see you cry, Taehyung knew you were a strong when it came to your feelings. Stress, frustration or even just sad movies never made you cry.
After a few minutes of ugly sobbing, you stepped back, letting go and looking up at him through your blurry vision. Taehyung looked back into your eyes and only chucked, “well that’s a sight for sore eyes.” cupping your cheeks, he wiped away your tears as you sniffed. “Are you ready to tell me what happen?”
The only response you gave him was a slow nod. Tired of standing at the door, the both of you moved the conversation to your living room, where you told him about your heartbreak.
You sat at one end of the couch in a little ball while Taehyung sat at the other end. “Ahhh… this is so embarrassing…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and sniffed.
“Why are you embarrassed? These are your feelings. There’s nothing you should be embarrassed about.” Taehyung comforted.
You sighed once again, “ah… why did I have to fall for Yoongi? I should’ve just fallen for you instead. We’re practically married,” leaning your head against the leather cusion of the couch and giggled.
Only a corner of Taehyungs lips lifted, “that’s food for thought.” He leaned over and patted the closest limb he was able to reach, which was your foot, weird but it still felt comforting, “I don’t know what else to say but to move on–things like this happen. I don’t want to sound like a jerk and tell you this but it’s the truth,” he sighed, “and I don’t want you to keep bringing your hopes up for them to be suddenly broken down again.”
Taking a deep breath and rubbing your eyes before combing through your hair with your fingers, you looked at him, “aghhh, you’re right. I have to get over him…. and I’ll start by eating that food you brought–where it at?” you got off the couch and quickly walked to the table in the hallway where Taehyung left the bags.
Opening the bags, it felt as if the food itself was glowing and shinning on your face. Was there a choir of angels singing? Who knows but you could hear them loud and clear. All you could do was mischievously laugh to yourself, “oh, Taehyungie. You know me so well.” The bags were filled with all of your favorite snacks and drinks.
“I thought we could watch some movies and chill all day while eating junk food,” the owner of the low and husky voice popped in, watching you drool from the hallway.
You looked up at the direction it come from and smiled, “Taehyung, you have perfect timing.”
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wyrmsandrocs · 6 years
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*kicks your door down* aLL THE FUCKING ASKS YA BINCH
1. selfie - cant link a photo on mobile but click this lmao 2. what would you name your future kids? - Bob. I have very little idea lmao i cant even name my characters 3. do you miss anyone? - Yeah, but everyone i miss was shit anyway so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ lmao4. what are you looking forward to? - tomorrow bc i can see wyna again lmao ((yes i know you asked but like just saying”when i can see you again” sounds weird in a general post)) 5. is there anyone who can always make you smile? - Wyna lmao 6. is it hard for you to get over someone? - yes 7. what was your life like last year? - pretty good but I was struggling to detach myself from toxic people 8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? - y e s 9. who did you last see in person? - aside from my fam, @canipetyourdragon and @softbutchnepeta 10. are you good at hiding your feelings? - when I want to, yeah 11. are you listening to music right now? - No but I have Merano from Chess in my head god save me 12. what is something you want right now? - A MOThERFUCKING APPLE FRITTER. PLEASE. 13. how do you feel right now? - pretty good, kinda tired, kinda numb but hey thats life
14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you? - like two hours ago when my lil bros hugged me
 15. personality description - ((im guessing this means my personality?)) Stressed, depressed, but well dressed. Anxiety Incarnate. Allergic to chill. ambitious, traumatized, FocusedTM. I’d like to say im funny but who knows. wyna am i funny? most likely annoying. 16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t? - y e s 17. opinion on insecurities. - a normal part of being human 18. do you miss how thing were a year ago? - n o p e im really really happy with how things are now, and I don’t truly miss the way things were
19. have you ever been to New York? - nope20. what is your favourite song at the moment? - Vincent (Starry Night) by Josh Groban. its so beautiful and im sobbing. 21. age and birthday? - ummm i dunno i stopped counting a few ceturies back. it’s been a while and no one remembers it any way so *shrug*22. description of crush. - Smart, funny, kind, a complete dork. Her hair is always rlly curly and it’s adorable but she usually keeps it back in a ponytail or smthn. a ridiculous hufflepuff nerd and a rlly Cool Person. ((disclaimer: platonic crushes only))23. fear(s) - Being abandoned, myself, getting into another bad relationship, spiders, and taxidermy. 24. height - im like almost 6 feet tall25. role model - uhhh idrk if i have a role model. Nina Zenik lmao 26. idol(s) - Leigh Bardugo27. things i hate - Spiders, idiots, assholes 28. i’ll love you if… - you send me asks or buy me cute stationary. 29. favourite film(s) - Fight Club, the animated Anastasia movie30. favourite tv show(s) - Voltron, Stranger Things, and Turn 31. 3 random facts - Polar bear fur is actually clear, the things on giraffes heads are called osocones, and the same opening literary device was used in The Odyssey, Romeo and Juliet, Sweeny Todd, and Hamilton. 32. are your friends mainly girls or guys? - No. most of my friends are nb 33. something you want to learn - To play the piano, to cope better. 34. most embarrassing moment - okay kiddos buckle up it’s story time. once when I was like 9 and on Quotev I saw this comment thread that said “lyric chain.” I thought this meant people were making up lyrics, so i scrolled to the end and continued “She’ll fade out tonight, straight down the line” with “straight down that liiiiiiiiine,” extra vowels and all. It was only years later that a song played on the radio and i did a spit take. this was the song that I had added to years ago. I asked my mother what it was. It was the a team by Ed Sheeran. I have now died of embarrassment 35. favourite subject - history 36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill? - Publishing a book, being fluent in at least two languages, publishing a book of poetry37. favourite actor/actress - okay ngl first thought was jeremy jordan bc im musical theatre trash 38. favourite comedian(s) - umm im not really sure 39. favourite sport(s) - no 40. favourite memory - going to the leigh bardugo book signing in august with @canipetyourdragon @snicksnackknickknack and @a-digital-ace 41. relationship status - very very single lmfao 42. favourite book(s) - anything by Leigh Bardugo, specifically Six of Crows 43. favourite song ever - oh man idk maybe Believer by Imagine Dragons or anything off of Melodrama by Lorde 44. age you get mistaken for - like early 20s 45. how you found out about your idol - my gramma gave me a book she wrote 46. what my last text message says - And in crying bc this isn’t my freddy I love Freddy he’s a brilliant clever puppet master asshole 47. turn ons - um ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 48. turn offs - ¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯49. where i want to be right now - with wyna 50. favourite picture of your idol - ooh there was a rlly great selfie she posted a while ago on insta51. starsign - taurus sun libra moon 52. something i’m talented at - poetry 53. 5 things that make me happy - wyna, books, writing, music, chocolate 54. something thats worrying me at the moment - the future 55. tumblr friends - @sunshinesorbet we dont talk that much but ur great n ily friend 56. favourite food(s) - spaghetti, waffles, cake, and stroganof ((idk how to spell that)) 57. favourite animal(s) - cats, owls, doves, deer58. description of my best friend - amazing and great and kind and funny and wonderful. 100% a dork and i love her a lot 59. why i joined tumblr - bc of someone I dont talk to anymore lmfao.
ty so much for asking ily forever now!
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cumonbucky · 7 years
Text
Pick Me
Request: Can you do a Bucky x Reader X Steve fluff(maybe smut), where the reader needs help with a world history unit about World War Two and they go to them??? And they fight over who's going to help the reader??
Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Steve
Warnings: none rlly (I’m so fucking sorry, ik you probably wanted smut but the cold hard truth is I fucking suck ass at writing smut and I don’t want to make y’all cringe)
A/N: Hello my name is Victoria Martinez (just call me Tori), I was born on December 25th, 1999 (I’m 17), I love reading and writing, I have a fucked up sense of humor, I attend Primavera online high school bc public school gave me bad anxiety, panic attacks, made my depression worsen and much much more. I only have one friend (I’m a loser, I know), and ye homies. If ya have any questions for me/about me I’ll be happy to answer them. I just want you guys to get to know me better.
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Putting down your pen, you release and frustrated sigh. You had to write a 5 paged essay about World War 2 for your World History class that was due at the end of the week (granted that your professor gave you nearly 3 weeks to work on it). You look down at your paper and read over what you had wrote down.
Y/N Y/L/N
March 8th, 2017
World History
The Second World War
That was it. Your mind went completely blank after that. You looked over your notes once. Then twice. Now nearly six times and still nothing. You tried reading the articles your professor suggested but to no avail.
You pick up your pen again, tapping it on your desk before dropping it and throwing your head back, not forgetting to let out a loud groan. You couldn’t put this aside any longer - you’ve already done that for two weeks.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” you mutter into your hands. You didn’t want to look at that god awful paper again. Then, an idea hit you. “Friday, where’s Bucky - or Steve?”
“Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers are in the living room.”
“Thanks.”
You stand up, taking your pen and notebook with you as you rush down the hall. Nearly slipping twice, you make it to the living room and spot the two men sitting on the couch while watching some movie.
You tuck your hair behind your ear and walk around the couch, waving your hand to catch their attention. “Hey guys.”
“Hey Y/N.” Bucky spoke first, throwing a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
“We just started watching this.. Kids cartoon, I think. It’s called Sausage Party. You can join us if you want.” Steve added, glancing over at you.
You laugh. “You’re in for a rude awakening, my friend.” he looks at you with confusion written all over him but you decide to move on. “Um.. I actually came here to ask for your help - or Bucky’s.”
At the mention of his name, he looks over at you.
“What is it?” Steve asked, turning his body towards you as you took a seat on the far end of the couch.
“I have this five paged essay to turn in at the end of the week about World War Two but I dunno I’m just having a hard time doing it.” you sigh. “I mean, I’ve gone over my notes so many times and I’ve read the articles but-”
“The articles are bullshit.” Bucky says. “They always have the wrong information.”
“Which is why I came to you guys for help.” you gesture to them. “Maybe you can put it in a way that I’ll understand? Since, you know, you guys were there and all.”
Steve makes a face. “Sure, I can help you.”
“It’s cool, Steve. I can help her.” Bucky sits up, body now turned towards you.
Steve turns to his friend. “No, it’s fine Buck. I’ve got this.”
“Steve, I can do this. I was there.” he smiled and you knew they were about to start arguing.
“Well so was I.”
“Yeah but,” Bucky scoffs. “I was there.”
Steve frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It mean that... Well..” Bucky pauses, trying to word it correctly but Steve interrupts.
“I was in that war, Bucky.” he spoke.
“Yeah but you weren’t there in the beginning, I was.”
Steve huffed. “It’s not my fault that I was a skinny man and no one..” his voice became background noise when Bucky sighed.
“Here we go again.” he rolled his eyes before preparing for the conversation. “No one said it was your fault, Steve.”
“Well obviously you are because-”
“Steve, don’t start.”
Steve pursed his lips like an immature child. “You don’t think I was a good enough soldier.”
“Oh god.” Bucky breathed, closing his eyes for a split second before looking at Steve. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” he huffed. “I only saved your life, nothing too major.” sarcasm laced his words and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent you from laughing. You’ve never seen Steve get like this before and it was honestly hilarious.
“You wanna go there? Fine, let’s go there.” Bucky sat on the edge of his seat. “You let me fall of the damn train.”
Steve gasped. “I did not!”
“You did!”
“I tried to get you Bucky!”
“Well you didn’t try hard enough and because of that, I fell off the train, lost my arm and was captured by Hydra.” the soldier crossed his arms.
“Don’t blame this all on me!” Steve shouted.
Deciding that you should stop them from arguing, you interrupt.
“Hey uh, I really need help with that five paged essay. Really important.” you say, causing the two to become silent as they glare at one another.
“I’m helping Y/N.” Bucky spoke.
“No, I am.” Steve hissed.
“You weren’t even there for the first part of it, how could you-”
“Oh, I’m sorry that I was too damn skinny to be enlisted, Bucky!”
“Don’t go there!”
“You already did!”
“You think you’re Mr. Perfect? You didn’t even bother looking for me after I fell!” Bucky argued.
“I thought you were dead!”
He scoffed. “Well clearly I’m not.” he gestures to himself.
“Bucky, I’ll help Y/N because unlike you, I was there till the end.” he smiled sweetly.
“You little shit-”
They start bickering back and forth and finally realizing that you would get help from neither of them, you up and leave the living room, bumping into Tony and Sam along the way.
“What are the old men arguing about?” Tony questioned.
You wave your hand. “Something about Steve leaving his condom wrappers out in the open.”
Tony looks at Sam. “I told you Rogers was getting laid!”
Sam rolls his eyes and they continue on their way towards the elevator. You make it to your room and you’re about to shut the door when you hear Bucky’s voice.
“Where’s Y/N?”
There was a pause.
“See, I told you, you were gonna scare her off!”
“Me? More like you scared her off!”
“Don’t turn this on me, Bucky! If you-”
And you shut the door.
A/N: I didn’t know how to end this so ye. I hope ya guys like it, it was pretty fun to write. Tell me what at think :)
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