#but character belongs to co author

[devilshelter]

Lotl for my fren

Edit: wait I forgor you have tumblr now @tanela-emerald

[girlygguk]

FIRST CLASS | JJK

SUMMARY in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.

𓍯𓂃

PAIRING rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader

WORDCOUNT 25k+

RATING 18+ MINORS DNI

GENRE smut, fluff, angst. university au, f2l

CONTENT childhood best friends, nepo baby!reader, nepo baby!jk, tae sister!reader, heavy pining, heavy cursing, a bit of crack throughout, (soft?) fuckboy!jk, whipped!jk, simp!jk, kinda emotionally constipated!reader, lack of & miscommunication, the most dramatic fic you’ll ever read, jk has his tats & shorter hair (ref in banner pic), jk is a tits guy and reader has big tiddies, jk & reader are very touchy and lovey friends, reader is kind of a bitch to those she doesn't care about, reader is rich but jk is richer 😩, arguments between mcs, jealousy, bottled up feelings, toxic/unhealthy friendship if u were to really think about it, jk & reader have active sex lives beforehand, reader is in a fwb situation beforehand, there is an explicit scene between reader & a side character (but no sex), punch up/fight scene/blood, potential/near-miss car accident, 2 scenes where characters get badly physically injured, alcohol consumption, use of a few male idol names (mingyu, jaehyun, felix), the rest of bangtan are side characters, the last like 9k(?) is literally just smut helppp, happy ending.

18+ WARNINGS kissing, making out, grinding, dry humping, fingering (f rec.), oral (both rec.), slight exhibition?..you'll see, pet names during sex, dirty talk, use of the word slut in praise, so much praising, biting, jk likes the pain ok, body worship, tiddy sucking, mentions of tiddy fucking, ball play, nipple play, multiple orgasms, bigg dick jk, soft dom!jungkook, subby!reader, unprotected sex, ocs a pro dick riderr 🙂‍↕️, creampie, sweet aftercare

author's note thank you all so much for the love on the teaser! it truly motivated me to finish this quicker than i ever expected. however, proofing such a long piece was a veryyy different experience to what i'm used to, so if u see any inaccuracies or timeline inconsistencies... no u don't <3

first class ; noun /ˌfəːs(t) ˈklɑːs/ a set of people or things grouped together as the best.

The biting cold of the winter evening settles over Yonsei University's lacrosse field, floodlights casting long shadows on the frosted grass. You pull your mink coat tighter around yourself, the chill seeping through despite your layers. Sitting on the bleachers with Park Jimin and his twin sister, Park Minji, you watch the game unfold.

The match is in full swing: Yonsei versus Hanyang, another top South Korean university. The excitement is palpable as the outdoor stadium fills with spectators, creating a sea of blue and green—the colors of the respective teams they are rooting for. Jimin wears a blue puffer jacket in support, while your roommate Minji is swimming in a blue long-sleeve sports jersey that definitely does not belong to her, you think with a smirk.

You initially weren't going to attend tonight due to other plans, which is why you aren't sporting anything blue. But, after a whiny 20-minute call from your insufferable best friend, you canceled on Mingyu last minute and tagged along with the Parks. Not that you would've dressed in all royal blue anyway… you're not fucking crazy. But maybe you would've added a blue ribbon to your hair or something.

Taehyung and Jungkook, co-captains of the Yonsei team, are in their element, dominating the field with effortless skill. You watch as your brother and Jungkook easily clear the opposing team, their movements synchronized and precise.

Jimin nudges you with a gloved hand, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Your brother and Kook are killing it out there," he says, his eyes following the action on the field.

You nod, cheeks flushed from the cold. Giving him a hum in agreement, you glance over at Minji. Her focused gaze keeps drifting back to Number 12, almost subconsciously, before realizing and snapping back to the middle of the field.

You look away in amusement, focusing on the game again and watching as Number 12, Kim Namjoon, swiftly catches the ball flying through the air with his racket before bolting through an opening in Hanyang's layout.

As the game progresses, the Hanyang team rallies, their determination pushing them closer and closer to Yonsei's lead. The crowd tenses as the score tightens, but you remain composed. You've seen this scenario play out countless times before.

There are 20 seconds left in the match, and Yonsei is down by two points. The twins have matching pouts on their lips, beginning to come to terms with your school receiving their first defeat of the season.

You watch as Hanyang makes the pitiful mistake of trying to make a risky pass by Number 1.

In the blink of an eye, Number 1's racket shoots out and intercepts the catch, and with a final burst of speed, Jungkook breaks right through the opposing defense. His eyes lock on the goal, and with a powerful swing, he sends the ball soaring into the net.

The crowd erupts, cheers reverberating across the field as the final buzzer blares, signaling the end of the game. You can't help but smile at Jungkook's skill.

The Yonsei team quickly swarms around Jungkook, their cheers morphing into a sea of bodies that envelop him, eventually toppling him to the ground in a dogpile. As they begin to disperse, Taehyung leans down to his co-captain with a proud grin.

Jungkook takes Taehyung's hand with a chuckle, the elder hoisting him to his feet before draping an arm around his shoulder. Jungkook pulls off his helmet, shaking out his damp curls, which cling stubbornly to his forehead. His eyes then drift towards the bleachers, where he suddenly loses his train of thought.

There you are, in all your glory—wrapped in a long, expensive chocolate mink coat, cheeks flushed pink from the cold air.

Your smooth legs, sheathed in sheer stockings, disappear into boots that likely cost as much as a teenager's first car. He wonders about the color of your skirt hidden beneath your coat—is it brown to match, or black to complement your boots? The color, he isn't certain, but he does know it is either a skirt or a dress. You would never be caught dead in trousers and even avoid jeans if you can. Personally, Jungkook thinks you look spectacular in jeans.

Your hair hangs loose, styled pin-straight but tousled slightly by the breeze, and his fingers itch to tuck the stray strands behind your ear. You are engrossed in conversation with Jimin and Minji as the three of you descend the bleacher seats, now heading towards him and your brother. Your brother, who is now holding his helmet under his right arm, uses his left to tug his best friend out of his trance and towards their friends.

You and the Park siblings weave through the amped-up crowd before finally reaching where the co-captains are peeling off their gloves.

Jimin clasps Taehyung's hand, pulling him into a warm, brotherly hug. "That was a fucking game, Tae!" He exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face before giving the same greeting to Jungkook.

Minji follows suit, hugging Taehyung quickly before turning to Jungkook with a playful smirk. “You had us scared for a second, Kook,” she teases, “thought you weren’t gonna make that last shot.”

Jungkook chuckles, returning Minji's hug before leaning back and chucking his helmet on the ground, waiting for you to finish congratulating your brother.

"All part of the show," he replies to the twin with a wink before you pull away from Tae and float to him like second nature.

Nobody bats an eye as your arms slink around his shoulders, linking behind his neck. His taller frame leans down slightly on instinct, and his arms wrap around your waist. His face buries gently into your neck, pulling you a little closer. Your perfume renders Jungkook dazed, and he knows that he is a sweaty mess and smells like one too, but even if you notice, you don't mention it.

"Hi," he mumbles, his breath tickling your skin, causing you to smile and pull away slightly.

"Hi," you echo sweetly, noticing his eyes flicker down to where your coat has parted and your black Hermès mini-skirt peeks through.

You are about to ask him if he likes it because you just bought it yesterday, but he is quick to draw your coat tighter around you, probably not wanting the cold air to nip at you any longer.

He picks up his helmet and gloves, his tattooed arm slipping comfortably over your shoulder as the five of you head towards the locker rooms.

Your head rests against the side of his chest while you walk, and your friends are still beaming about Yonsei's fourth consecutive win of the season. Jungkook slows his steps slightly, letting the rest of your group pull slightly ahead.

"Glad you came," he says softly, his skin tingling as your nails lightly scratch against his shirt where your hand rests around his waist.

"Yeah, you better be," you hum teasingly, "Mingyu was not happy."

Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat before forcing out a laugh, "Tell him I'll make it up to him. Take him out on a date myself."

Your giggle soothes the ache in his chest before it returns tenfold at your response, "wasn't a date. Was just going to see him."

"Ohhaahah," his attempt at a laugh comes out more strained than he intends, and you snort, amused by his discomfort.

Before he can protest, you interlock his hand with yours and lead him towards the locker room, his steps quickening to match yours. He follows behind you like a puppy dog, as if this was your locker room and you were showing it to him for the first time.

A chaotic mix of celebration and exhaustion echoes throughout the building as you walk through the door that Tae holds open. The smell of sweaty lacrosse players all but hits you in the face, and Jungkook watches in amusement as your nose scrunches slightly. The warm air is welcoming though, and you let out a sigh as it works to defrost your frozen skin.

The changing room is packed to the brim with sweaty college boys high-fiving, recounting the game's highlights, and shedding off their gear. Jungkook lets go of your hand when you and Minji go over to say hi to Namjoon.

Taehyung is caught up in conversation with the coach, who is commending the team's performance and already running through some things they can work on in preparation for next month's match.

"Jaykayyyyyy!!"

"Let's fucking gooo, Jeon!"

"Good shit tonight, JK!"

You release Namjoon from the hug and turn towards the sudden commotion coming from the other side of the locker room.

Your best friend is at the center of the group, his teammates slapping his back and tousling his hair while showering him with praise. You notice his bunny-like teeth peeking out as he grins. No matter how confidently he carries himself throughout the day, he still flushes at compliments, which makes you roll your eyes amusedly.

Jungkook breaks away from the group and heads to his locker to check his phone while you return your attention to Namjoon and Minji, who are now caught in a quiet conversation.

You head over to Jimin, who looks to be passionately explaining something to Hobi and Yoongi, judging by his broad and exaggerated hand movements. He is a drama major though, so you can never be too sure.

A vibrating noise cuts your journey short. You fish your phone from your coat pocket and begrudgingly slip out of the locker room back into the cold air before answering. "Hey, Gyu."

"Hey, Y/N." Mingyu's tone is low and strained, like he’s in pain almost.

You tuck the strands of hair that were getting picked up by the wind behind your ear. "How can I help you?" you ask.

"Y/N," he grunts out a pained laugh, and you click.

You hear shuffling on the other side of the line while he sits up against his headboard.

"Yes? What do you need?" You're not going to do the work for him, and he knew that. He felt pathetic even making the call in the first place.

He goes quiet for a moment, and you pull your phone from your ear to glance at the time. "It's only 8 pm, and you sound like you're already in bed."

Mingyu nods as if you could see him, "I am. I have been for a while," he admits before asking you how the game was. You know he didn't actually give a shit about the game, but you still entertain him and answer

He drags out the conversation for a few minutes, running his hand through his hair at your voice. He doesn't want to hear it through the phone; he wants to hear it in person. He wants you to be in his room right now, like you said you would be.

Mingyu hates how disinterested you sound. Mingyu also hates how that very disinterested tone makes his cock throb in his sweatpants. You couldn't care less about him, whereas all he's been doing since you canceled on him three hours ago is lay in bed and fucking think about you. He sighs before biting the bullet, "Are you still coming over?"

Your brows furrow slightly, "Oh, I thought I told you that I was—"

"Can you still come over?" He rephrases his question, "please?"

Your lips purse as you consider it for a second. You don't have any classes tomorrow, so you guess you could head to his later tonight.

You're about to respond when the sound of the door opening behind you causes you to turn around.

You watch as the wealthiest student in the entire university approaches you, now dressed in a plain black hoodie and a pair of joggers, running a towel through his wet hair. It no longer looks sweaty wet but instead shampooed wet, so you assume he had a quick shower. "Hey, you okay? Why are you out here in the cold?"

"One second," you say into the phone before lowering it and moving closer to Jungkook. He closes your fur coat tightly around you again as it comes open from the strong wind while he waits for your response.

"Came out here to take a call. Too loud in there."

He nods, throwing the towel over his shoulder. "'K. We're going to Hanji's to eat. Did you want to ride with me?"

You're about to agree without even thinking when you remember the boy waiting on the other end of the call.

"Ah," you mutter, lifting the phone back to your ear. "I'll come over at like 11?" you say to Mingyu, not catching the frown that coats Jungkook's lips.

Mingyu almost protests but knows that 11 is better than nothing and stops himself. "Sweet. Just text me if you need me to pick you up."

You thank him before saying your goodbyes and ending the call. You look up at your best friend, his gaze unfocused. "Can I?" you ask.

"Hmm?" he hums, blinking a few times before focusing on your face.

"Ride with you?"

"Yeah," he smiles down at you, letting you link your arm with his as he leads you back into the warm locker room.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Hanji's is loud. The clamor of sizzling grills and busy cooks no match for the chatter of students and customers that fill the room. You sip on an iced tea as your friends laugh and chat, still basking in tonight's victory.

Snug between your brother and Jungkook, you rest your head on the latter's shoulder, sipping your drink through a paper straw. His arm drapes over the back of the booth's chair, allowing you to settle comfortably as he chats with the swim team captain, Jin, who sits on the opposite side of the booth.

Your coat is folded on Jungkook's lap now that you're surrounded by the warm air of the diner, and his tattooed fingers play absentmindedly with the spaghetti strap of your top.

Taehyung leans over and snatches a dumpling from your untouched plate with his chopsticks, causing you to glance at him in faux annoyance. Your brother knows you don't actually care and flashes you a big, toothy grin which you can’t help but return.

You push the plate toward him, wordlessly telling him to have it all and his eyes light up for a split second before his brows furrow. "Why aren't you eating?" he asks concernedly, his words slightly muffled by a mouthful of food.

"Ate just before the game, I'm full," you reply, nodding when he asks if you're sure and watching him grab another dumpling.

Liar. Jungkook thinks as he watches Jin's mouth move but is unfocused on the words he's actually saying.

You don't eat before a link, a habit of yours Jungkook is very aware of, having asked you not to do it countless times before.

It's not that deep, you always tell him; you just don't enjoy sex much with a full stomach, it makes you feel sorta sick. And food always tastes better after sex anyway.

He glances down at you for a second, and you're already looking his way, your pretty eyes boring into his as if daring him to mention anything to your brother. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he turns away, attempting to hide his smile at your attitude.

Jin cracks a joke and glances at you for a reaction, prompting you to roll your eyes and laugh. He pumps his fist in the air triumphantly, earning a playful smack from his girlfriend.

Your friends are always like that—acting as if making you laugh is some monumental achievement. You're not a masochist; you don't avoid laughing on purpose. But you're rich, intelligent, and pretty... It takes a lot to impress you. Jungkook makes you laugh a lot though.

Seated next to Jin is his gorgeous high-school sweetheart, Mia, and next to her is your ever-so pouty housemate, Minji. You quietly observe Minji's gaze as it frequently drifts to the booth adjacent to yours, where Yoongi, his boyfriend Hobi, Jimin, and, most importantly, Namjoon are seated.

Minji sighs softly, snapping out of her daze as she looks down at her cider. Taehyung is laughing at something Jin said, leaning forward in front of you slightly to engage in conversation with the swimmer on the other side of the table. You take this moment to check on your friend.

Your head lifts off Jungkook's shoulder, and he resists the urge to turn and ask why, trying to stay focused on the story his Hyung is telling. You catch Minji's eye, offering her a small, questioning smile. She returns it as best she can before her expression morphs back into a troubled pout, and she shakes her head slightly.

You nod in understanding, tapping Jungkook's thigh as a signal that you'll be right back and ask Taehyung to let you out of the booth. Your brother stands, allowing you to shuffle out, and you grasp Minji's hand, tugging her along to the restroom.

Jungkook glances over, watching you usher Minji away from the table, and from the corner of his eye, he notices Namjoon looking over too.

Fifteen minutes go by, and you're reapplying Minji's mascara, which she cried off during her tearful spiel about her situationship.

"It's like h-he—" she pauses to hiccup, and you move the wand away to let her breathe, "—he just likes to mess with my fucking head! Every time we hook up he's all like 'Minjiiiiyahhh,'" you snicker at her imitation of his voice.

"’I can't get enough of you! I wanna do this forever!' but then when we're with everyone, it's like he's scared to even stand next to me! God, is he like, embarrassed of me or something?" She seethes, shaking her head in frustration.

You lift a tissue to her lash line, dabbing at the fresh tears brewing and scoff. "Embarrassed of you? Don't be ridiculous," you say, capping the mascara and sliding it back into her clutch, giving up on the rescue mission as the tears just keep coming.

"You are gorgeous," you turn your body to lean against the basin with her, linking her arm in yours. "Smart," you continue, resting your head on her shoulder. "Funny... sometimes," you tease, and she lets out a tearful giggle, her trembly hands curling around your arm as she snuggles into you in gratitude.

"God, I'm literally wearing his jersey. How pathetic." She laughs at herself, and your brows furrow slightly.

"How is that pathetic? I'm sure he wanted you to wear it, didn't he?"

"Well yeah... He was actually really cute when he asked if I would. He was all shy and shit. Fuck sakes," she groans in frustration, "it makes everything even more confusing!"

"Maybe he's just shy about showing affection in front of people? I mean, he is literally a computer science major..." You trail off and smile when she whines and wacks the arm of yours that she's leaning on.

"Seriously, though, don't cry over a guy, Min. And especially don't question your worth because of him." The bathroom falls silent except for her soft sniffles at your words.

You hand her the tissue that you're holding before adding, "You need to talk and set things straight with him, or you're just going to continue hurting." You internally scoff at the hypocrisy of your own words, but your roommate is none the wiser, nodding at you in agreement.

After a moment, she speaks quietly, "I wish I could be more like you."

"How so?" you ask, though you already have an inkling.

"You never get attached to the guys you hang with. I wish I could do that. It seems so much more freeing."

You hum half-heartedly in response, watching her dab at her eyes one last time before turning to wash her hands. Her words linger, echoing in your mind longer than they should. No, you don't get attached. Because you already know firsthand just how much it fucking sucks when the feelings aren't mutual.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

It's 11:12 pm. The scent of your Chanel No. 5 lingers in the air, blending with Jungkook's soft hums to his car radio. The warm air from the heater makes your eyes droop slightly.

"You have a nice voice," you murmur, toying with the tattooed fingers resting on your stocking-clad thigh.

He glances at you briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "You always say that," he replies, eyes returning to the road as he stops at a red light.

"Because it's true," you state simply. "Do you disagree?"

He laughs softly at your bluntness, a familiar flush creeping up his neck. "Maybe."

"Hm," you roll your eyes, lifting one of his fingers and letting it drop before repeating the motion with the others. "Whatever, golden boy."

"Ya," he chuckles, squeezing your thigh gently, "don't call me that."

You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "You let everyone else call you that."

His lips purse into a slight pout. "Not you."

You blink at him, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile at his big, boba eyes. He just keeps staring at you, letting you fiddle with his hand. After a few long moments, you giggle at his dazed-out expression. "Light's green, Gukkie."

He snaps out of it instantly, facing back toward the road, and his foot hits the gas pedal a little quicker than intended. That's better, he thinks.

A few minutes later, he turns into the familiar entrance of Yonsei University, steering the car down the path that leads to the Delta Sigma Phi fraternity house. As he pulls into a parking spot in front of the building, you're halfway through sending a text, so he waits for you to finish before cutting off the heater.

You lock your phone and glance up just as he extracts the keys from the ignition. He pats your thigh gently before climbing out of the car. You follow suit, rounding the vehicle to meet him by the driver's side.

Instinctively, he reaches for your hand, fingers entwining, and you rest your head against his arm as you both ascend the front steps to the frat.

The foyer is dark as Jungkook leads you inside. He maneuvers through the hall effortlessly, even without his sight. He guides you up the stairs to the second floor, your hands still locked together, and he turns to face you when you reach the door to his bedroom.

You look up at him with a dumb smile, and he leans down to bury his face in your neck before he says something dumber. His back presses against the door, and as you lean into him, the scent of his clean, linen hoodie fills your senses.

Jungkook's love language is physical touch, and you let him have his moment, keening slightly when he nudges the side of your neck with his pretty nose. YYour phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it, wanting to spend five more minutes with your best friend.

"Do you have class tomorrow?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to be heard by his housemates.

He doesn't say anything, just shakes his head wordlessly, his curls tickling your skin as he does.

"Movie tomorrow then?" you suggest softly, letting him lean back slightly to look at you.

The moment you see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, you know his response before he even forms the words. His pouty lips part, ready to offer an excuse when you squint your eyes and lean away from him.

"Jesus, Jeongguk." You groan, still keeping your voice low, but he can hear the annoyance loud and clear. "Why do you get all pouty and sad when you have other plans? It's okay."

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow. He edges forward, trying to maintain some form of physical contact, but you just shrug him off. "I already agreed to it last night. I'm sorry, Y/N."

You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes. "Why are you fucking apologizing?" Your words have bite, but he doesn't react, simply leaning closer to you even though you continue to distance yourself.

You know you're overreacting in a sense, but every time he has plans with a girl, he always apologizes with that stupid fucking pout and those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes. And it's only when it's with another girl.

You weren't upset; you were well aware of his active sex life. It's like he expects you to burst into tears whenever he tells you he's seeing someone. Why the fuck would you care?

Jungkook reaches out to you in a last attempt to grab your hand, and you just stare at it, not making any move to accept the gesture. He sighs, letting his hand fall to his side while he looks at your pissed-off expression.

"Why?" You try again.

Jungkook's shoulders slump, and he looks down, avoiding your gaze. "I don't know," he responds softly. He barely catches the annoyance on your face fading, soon replaced with something that tugs at his heart even more—boredom.

"Okay then, Gukkie. Sleep well, we'll talk later," you say, nodding as you step closer to him. Your arms wrap around him in a quick hug, and before he can even react, you're walking down to the other end of the hall.

Jungkook's eyes stay focused on the ground, listening to your footsteps getting further away.

It's not until he hears a soft knock on his frat-mate's bedroom door and a fucked-out, "Shitttt, look at you," come from Mingyu that he scoffs, turning into his room and slamming the door behind him.

Thirty minutes pass, then an hour, then two, as Jungkook lies grumpily on his bed, glaring at his bedroom ceiling.

There was an unmistakable bang of a headboard against the wall down the hall at minute forty-five, followed quickly by your hushed voice telling Mingyu to keep it down. Jungkook hasn't been able to close his eyes since.

"Why are you fucking apologizing?"

Your words ring in his head as he tosses under his blanket uncomfortably, giving up before ripping it off his body a bit too aggressively, causing it to fall to the ground.

"I don't know."

Dirty fucking liar, his subconscious snickers.

Of course he knew. He's always fucking known. It's subconscious; the way he can't stop the apology from spewing from his lips every time.

He wants you to be upset. He wants you to get angry at him for sleeping with other girls. He wants you to ask him not to go.

But you don't. You never do. If anything, you encourage it. And there he is, apologizing like a fucking idiot for something that you don't even care about. Every time he sees that disinterested look in your eyes, it feels like a sour punch to the gut.

Jungkook's mind races as he tries to figure out why he keeps doing this to himself. Why he keeps hoping for a reaction that never comes. He thinks about the way you hugged him earlier, the fleeting moment of closeness before you walked away without a second thought. You're so good at that.

He rolls onto his side, trying for the nth time to close his eyes, the sounds of your muffled laughter and Mingyu's low murmurs mocking him through the thin walls.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, the frustration gnawing at him, a constant reminder of what he can't have. He wants to move on, to stop letting you have this power over him. He laughs at the thought.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Two days later, you're sitting in your afternoon Linguistics class, sandwiched between Jimin and Aerum. Why Jimin didn’t take the spot in the middle if he was going to let her sit near you guys, you’re un-fucking-sure.

Aerum isn't part of your inner circle, but she likes hanging around. You know her type—fake and a gossip. She attempts to make small talk with you throughout the class, but your answers are curt and disinterested.

"—even surprised? As if Jeongguk hasn't slept his way through half the campus already." Aerum giggles, twirling a strand of her hair. That gets your attention.

You don't even look up from your notebook, continuing to jot down what the professor says. "Don't talk about him like that," you say, your tone flat, causing Aerum to falter for a second.

She nervously chuckles, "It's not a secret he gets around, Y/N. You know that..."

Unamused, you finish off your notes, letting her brew for a second, before finally lifting your gaze. You lean in a little, and Aerum shuffles closer as if you were about to let her in on some juicy tea.

"I don't care if he took your mother over the kitchen counter and made you watch." Aerum's lips part at your words, leaning back slightly in shock. "Don't talk about him like that. Matter of fact, don't talk about him at all."

She malfunctions for a second before nodding dazedly, quickly turning to face the front of the class for the first time today. You return to your notebook uninterestedly as Jimin lets out a loud snort, leaning over to hide his face in your shoulder.

The class continues without further interruptions, and when the professor finally wraps it up, you begin putting your things away. Jimin holds your bag for you like he always does as you make your way out of the classroom. Aerum follows behind like a kicked puppy.

With no more classes for the day, you and Jimin had planned to go to the campus café for a study date. Much to your dismay, Jimin had invited Aerum when she overheard you talking about it at the beginning of Linguistics. Jimin is kind to everyone, a trait of his that you somewhat admire, but in this case, it just made you want to slam his laptop shut over his fingers.

Once you reach the café, you find an empty table at the back while Jimin goes to the counter to order your usual drinks, Aerum trailing behind him quietly.

As you set your things down, you notice your phone at the top of your bag. You pick it up, deciding to text Jungkook because you haven't seen him in a couple of days, and you miss him. Maybe he can come study.

It's as if the universe heard your thoughts because suddenly, you feel a pair of sturdy arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You smile when his familiar cologne reaches your nose and quickly spin around to pull him down into a proper hug.

"I was literally just about to text you," you tell him as he snuggles into your neck.

"You studying?" he murmurs into your skin, his warm breath tickling you slightly.

"Mhm, with Jiminie and Aerum," you reply, leaning back slightly. He scrunches his nose in protest when you pull away but lets you go.

"Cool, I could use a break," he says, his eyes twinkling as he takes a seat next to you, casually slinging his arm over the back of your chair.

"Where were you heading?" you ask as you both settle down, and he helps you spread out your supplies.

"Just dropping some gear off to coach on campus. Saw you through the window," his gaze flickers over your outfit before he smiles softly. "You look pretty."

You smile cutely at the compliment, and his heart skips a beat.

Jungkook suppresses a sigh. You look so sweet in your white cashmere sweater and creamy plaid Burberry skirt, but the way your body fills it out is anything but. Not a single hair out of place, you look sinfully and irrevocably perfect.

Jimin returns with the drinks and almost gets a fright from the lacrosse captain. "Hey, Kook," he says with a grin, handing you your iced coffee.

Aerum, holding her drink, looks slightly flustered but tries to mask it with a smile. "Hi, Jungkook," she says, her voice a little too sweet.

Jungkook nods at her politely before turning his attention back to you. "What subject?" He leans over to grab your textbook, and before you can answer, Aerum takes a seat and chimes in.

"Linguistics," she smiles, and Jungkook nods while flipping through the textbook.

You're logging into Jimin's laptop while he licks the whipped cream from the top of his frappe like a cat. You snort at the blonde before opening the shared doc that he and you have. You're begin to scroll through the pages, trying to find where you left off last time, but the sound of Aerum's continuous pestering distracts you.

"—again tonight or something?" You only catch the end of her sentence, but by the flirty tone she's only just now using, you assume she's speaking to Jungkook.

"Aish, Aerum…" Jungkook laughs awkwardly, flicking through the pages of your textbook as if it would somehow teleport him away from the situation.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you don't do round 2's. Make an exception? For me?" She pouts cutely, and even Jimin can't resist the urge to cringe into his cup.

Jungkook looks over at you for a moment; whether it's for help or a reaction, he doesn't know, but he's not surprised when you don't even look up from the laptop. Just continuing to scroll through your document.

He can't even stop the words from coming out before he says them, "Yeah, okay."

Jimin's brows furrow in surprise. You keep scrolling.

"Yeah?" Aerum can't hide the surprise in her own voice, giddy nonetheless.

"Yeah." He nods at her, looking down at your textbook, wishing it would telepathically lift up and knock him out cold.

An hour flies by, during which you and Jimin make significant progress on the paper, having already completed a quarter of it.

Aerum, however, proves to be an absolute dead weight, giving weak half-assed responses whenever Jimin tries to involve her in the research. Her focus is solely on flirting with Jungkook.

If she even thinks of attempting to slip her greasy little name on this project once you and Jimin are done, you'll take great satisfaction in bringing her back down to reality.

You finish typing a sentence on Jimin's laptop before locking it and giving him a look. He understands immediately and stands up to pack his things wordlessly.

You're beyond irritated—not because Jungkook and Aerum are practically on the verge of fucking right on top of the café table, but because they're doing it while you're trying to work. Frustrated and disgusted, you uncharacteristically bite your tongue and sling your bag over your shoulder.

"You're leaving?" Jungkook's head snaps to you the moment he notices you standing up, and he follows suit, Aerum tagging along behind him.

"Yep," you nod, grabbing Jimin's arm when he extends it to you and heading for the café exit.

"Are you—shit," Jungkook stutters, jogging slightly to catch up to you, Aerum trailing behind him. "Are you guys doing anything tonight?"

You almost roll your fucking eyes, but Jimin responds with a neutral expression, "Yeah, Kook… the DSP gather? We planned it last week?"

"Fuck," Jungkook coughs out, "Yeah, no, I remember."

You continue walking back towards the main campus where Jimin's car is parked, with Jungkook and Aerum not far behind. When you reach Jimin's Audi, you detach from his arm and head for the passenger seat, Jungkook meeting you at the door.

"Did you still want me to pick you up?" he asks softly, watching you adjust your bag strap over your shoulder in boredom while you wait for Jimin to unlock the car.

“No, that’s okay, Guk. I'll come over with Minji. She's on a drinking cleanse after the Feb blackout, so she can drive," you smile, leaning up to give him a quick goodbye hug.

He leans into it, but you don't let him linger, pulling away as soon as you hear the sound of the car unlocking. You go to open the door and climb in, but he gently puts his hand against it to stop you.

"Are you okay? Can you talk to me, please?" he lowers his voice so no one can hear.

Jimin takes the hint and awkwardly gets into the car, telling Aerum to hop in the back and he'll drop her home. She looks at Jungkook for a long moment before reluctantly getting in.

Jungkook's big, worried, boba eyes make you want to both scoff and run your hand over his face until they ease up.

"What do you mean, Gukkie? Just don't want you to go out of your way. You live there, so there's no point in you driving to get me."

Huh? He's picked you up for every single frat party they hold. He doesn't mind. He insists on driving you. He loves driving you! What the fuck?

Jungkook lets his hand fall from the door in resignation, and his heart clenches at the speed in which you pull the handle to open it, like you couldn't wait to get away from him. He somberly takes a step back from the car to let you get in.

You sigh when you glance back at his scrunched eyebrows and pouty lips. You place your bag on the seat and shut the door with a groan before walking back to your sulky best friend.

His response is immediate. His arms link around your waist when you lean into him, his head nestling into your neck where it belongs. Your nails lightly scratch against his polo, and he squeezes you a little tighter.

"I want to pick you up," he says softly. You run your hands down his arms, grabbing them where they link behind your waist. You give them a squeeze as you gently untangle yourself from him.

"I'm riding with Minji. I'll see you tonight, Gukkie." He watches you walk back to Jimin's car and finally get in.

Aerum's eyes are on Jungkook as Jimin pulls out of the campus parking lot. Jungkook's are on you.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

You weren't always as unbothered as you are today at the age of 21.

Maybe it was maturing, maybe it was the pilates sessions you take twice a week, or maybe it was because a particular situation made you vow to yourself you'd never go through that pain again. Well, whatever it was that made you so emotionally detached, you're grateful for it. You're young, gorgeous, and you have a fruitful and prosperous life on the horizon.

Fun is good. Feelings are not.

You shake your head to get yourself out of your thoughts—the thoughts you don't know why are suddenly floating around in your messy little brain—and yell out to your roommate for a favor.

Park Minji and you share a two-bedroom penthouse on the top floor of Kim Marriott, the Seodaemun-gu branch of your parents' luxury 5-star hotel chain.

Taehyung was supposed to move in with you during your first year, but when he was appointed Frat President, he chose to stay on-site at Delta Sigma Phi. What a humble boy… you couldn't think of anything worse.

He dragged Jungkook along with him, and you dragged Minji along with you, so everything worked out great. Minji is a lot tidier than your brother, anyway.

You're rummaging through your closet for the shoes you swore you had stored there after your last shopping trip when Minji waltzes into your room, holding the box you've been hunting for.

"These ones, right? They were on the kitchen counter, among all your other unopened packages..." She rolls her eyes teasingly.

"Oh yes! Fuck, I love you," you cry, walking up to the blonde and pulling the heels from the box she holds open for you.

"They're so pretty," she compliments before closing the box and tossing it in the living room to throw away later. She looks back at you as you head to your full-length mirror, slipping on the shoes.

"Jesus, Y/N." Minji groans, and you hum in question, eyeing her through the mirror.

"You look so good, what the fuck..." she whines, walking closer to you and standing side by side in the mirror to check on her outfit as well.

The white bodycon mini-dress hugs your body nicely, its low neckline no match for your bigger-than-average tits as the fabric clings to them for dear life. The white-gold Cartier necklace Jungkook gifted you rests prettily on your chest, just like it always has ever since the night he clasped it around your neck.

2 years prior—circa. your 19th birthday

"Get fucked, Jeongguk." The words rip from your throat, venomous and sharp as they slap your best friend's face into a furrowed, exasperated expression.

You yank the jacket tighter around your shoulders as the cold night air whips at your skin, storming down the sidewalk. The urge to rip the jacket—his jacket—off your body is strong, but it's so fucking cold. You may be petty and possibly overreacting a little right now... but you're not stupid.

Jungkook's heavy footsteps trail after you, his calls of your name only pushing you to walk faster. He catches up in no time, your hurried steps no match for his long strides. He tries to gently grab your arm, but you shrug off his touch angrily, spinning around to glare at him. You're about to tell him to fuck off again when he speaks first.

"Come back inside. It's like a fucking blizzard out here; you're going to freeze to death," he says evenly, though frustration laces his words.

"Oh, please," you laugh humorlessly, shaking your head in disbelief. "As if you give a shit if I freeze."

"Don't fucking say—"

"I'm going home. You can tell everyone I'm sick and had to leave. Or don't, I don't fucking care." You turn away and start walking again, his footsteps immediately following.

"You're walking home?" You ignore his question, causing him to huff and run a hand through his hair. "Let me drive you home, please."

You ignore him again, knowing that if there's something Jungkook can't stand more than you yelling at him, it's you not speaking to him.

"Stop doing this. It's your birthday; don't let it end like this—"

"Yes, Jeongguk, it's my birthday," you seethe, whipping back around. "And you brought a random chick none of us even know to my birthday dinner. And you didn't even bother to get me a gift. On. My fucking. Birthday."

"Y/N—"

"Limited edition PlayStation, imported Swedish lacrosse stick, custom painted iPad from your favorite local fucking artist," you list the gifts you've gotten him for his birthday over the years angrily. Jungkook shakes his head, trying to step closer to you, but you hold up your hand to keep the distance.

"Do you even know how much effort I put into the things I get and do for you? And for you to sit there with that... that stupid fucking look on your—God, Jeongguk!" Your voice is on the cusp of being a whine, but you don't care. "Oh, but I'm sure you spent a decent chunk of Daddy's money on Winnie tonight, huh?" You don't care that the Daddy's money statement is also very applicable to you… you're pissed.

Jungkook's jaw clenches at your words, and he steps forward, slipping his hand into the pocket of the jacket you're wearing. Before you can snap at him again, he pulls out a small velvet box and holds it out to you.

"What is that?" you demand, your voice still trembling with annoyance.

"Your gift," he says softly, opening the box to reveal a white-gold Cartier diamond necklace. "I was planning to give it to you when we were in private."

You stare at the necklace, your anger momentarily overshadowed by surprise. The diamonds of the pendant sparkle under the streetlights, and you almost let out a moan. Diamonds are your weakness.

"You motherfucker," you groan under your breath, glaring at the necklace in hopes it will dissipate into thin air so you can continue being annoyed at him.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice a whisper. "Everyone was coming with their partners, Y/N. I couldn't come alone."

You sigh, knowing that. Your comment was a cheap shot, considering Jungkook doesn't hang with a girl more than once, so it would be impossible for him to bring someone you already knew. But Winnie was getting on your last nerve, and you saw an opportunity to sneak in a jab, so you took it.

Not only was his date clearing glass after glass of the expensive wine your friends had ordered as if it were water, but she was also not shy about ordering the priciest dishes on the menu. Judging by her tiny red Zara mini-dress, you highly doubt she'll be reaching for her purse at the end of the night.

Your gaze is still locked on the necklace as you take a moment to think. Jungkook hasn't moved either, continuing to hold the box open for you while he scans your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

"It's, um, engraved and shit," he mumbles, his hand not holding the box lifting to run over his jaw nervously. "And I got a chain one… for me too."

Your eyes snap to his, and he swears his heart stops beating. God, you think it's stupid. You hate it. That's okay. He'll just wait until you turn around so he can sprint to the nearest homeless guy and give him the stupid neckl—

"Like matching?" Your eyes soften, and he slowly feels the blood flooding into his heart.

"Yeah, only if you like, want to," he shrugs cutely, and you can't stop the grin from spreading across your lips.

You're close enough to slide your arms around his torso but still not near enough for Jungkook as he tugs you closer, melting into the hug. "Thank you, Gukkie. I love it," you murmur into his chest, and he feels his muscles relax at you finally using his nickname again.

You lift your head from his black fitted Givenchy dress shirt, which smells a little too good, to look up at him. "But why did you say you didn't have anything when everyone gave me their gifts?"

He looks down at the slight pout on your lips, his fingers twitching with the urge to wipe it off your mouth. Instead, he flicks the box closed with a thumb and holds it out to you. "Don't think Jaehyun would've been too thrilled with me giving you this," he chuckles. "The dude hates me."

You frown up at him, about to chime in and say that isn't true, but his lips tug into a smirk as if to say he couldn't care less about what your boyfriend thought of him. And honestly, if he were Jaehyun, he'd hate him too.

Jungkook had the necklaces made a little over two months ago, and you and Jaehyun have only been official for one. So, Jungkook's intentions behind the gift weren't malicious, he swears…

If you just so happen to wear the necklace and your boyfriend notices his matching one, which then causes a rift in your relationship, resulting in the two of you breaking up… well, that would just be a nice little coincidence.

"Jae knows you and I are close," you explain with a crease in your brow that he wants to massage until it goes away. "I made it very clear to him when he wanted to get serious, and he understood."

Jungkook nods along to your words even if he doesn't fully believe them. Either Jaehyun is a really good and secure guy, or he's full of grade-A horse shit. If you were his and another dude tried to come along and buy you an eleven-thousand-dollar necklace? Fuck, he'd knock the guy out cold.

You untangle yourself from your best friend and lift the lid of the velvet box still in his grasp. You coo at the pretty diamonds before turning to face away from Jungkook.

You gather your hair before swiping it over your shoulder and letting his jacket fall slightly to bare your neck. Jungkook reacts immediately, picking up the necklace before shoving the box in his pocket. His cold fingers brush against you as he carefully fastens the jewelry around your neck.

When he pulls away, you let your hair fall back into place and turn around to face him again. Your smile is soft, eyes twinkling as you look down at the necklace. "It's so pretty, Gukkie. I love it."

You're so pretty. I love you, he thinks.

With a sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in one of the most casual party outfits you've worn in a while—well, to your standards, at least. For some reason, you just don't feel entirely up for it tonight. Something feels off in your stomach. Or your head. You're not sure. You're probably just getting sick or something.

After slipping into the heels, you stand up straight and smush a kiss on the girl's cheek, smiling at the mark your lip gloss leaves on her face. "Ya, I just did my makeup," she gasps, leaning closer to your mirror to dab off the glossy residue.

You pat her bum gently. "You look gorgeous, Min. Gonna have Joon in tears tonight."

"If he even looks at me," she rolls her eyes, adjusting the strap of her Miu Miu dress in the mirror.

"You haven't talked to him yet?" You ask as you apply your perfume, and she turns to look at you with guilty eyes.

"No," she sighs, "I will tonight."

"Good," you smile, resting the perfume bottle back on your dresser before grabbing your phone and holding your hand out to her.

She interlocks her fingers with yours as you both leave the suite, the sinking feeling in your stomach never fading.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

Welp, there goes your ride home.

You watch in amusement as your roommate throws back her fourth jello shot of the night, washing it down with a gulp of beer.

You don't blame Minji for breaking her sobriety, especially after the first thing you both saw upon walking through the doors of Delta Sigma Phi was Namjoon leaning against the foyer wall with another girl in his arms. While they weren't official official, Minji loves really hard. And you think Namjoon knew that.

Needless to say, Minji instantly grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the kitchen, where mountains of various alcohol bottles covered the counter.

Minji's not an alcoholic by any means, but she, just like her twin brother, are quick to take it down and even quicker to bring it back up.

A few months ago, during the Autumn fraternity vs. sorority fundraiser, she got so drunk that she blacked out going down the soapy slip-and-slide.

You and Jungkook—well, mostly Jungkook—carried her all the way to his car. Since he was a sober monitor for Delta Sigma Phi, he drove you both home. He ended up staying at your place for the rest of the night while you slowly sipped on strawberry soju and watched Netflix, checking on Minji every so often.

She hasn't had a drink since that night, so her tolerance is probably super low. But that doesn't stop her from handing you a raspberry jello shot before grabbing another from the table and sucking it down like someone might take it from her.

You giggle, gently wiping away the pink droplet of liquid trailing down the corner of her lip with your thumb. She offers you a dazed smile, her eyes hooded, the effects of the alcohol clearly weaving through her system.

"You okay, Min?"

She beams back at you, a little spark lighting up her glossy eyes, "Mhm. Just wanna have fun tonight."

"Okay," you respond softly, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face.

Her head suddenly snaps to the living room. "Oooh, they're playing spin the bottle! Let's go playyy!" Minji gasps, tapping your arm excitedly.

You glance at the game that caught her attention and scan the players. There are a few of your friends, mixed with other people from school whose names you couldn't remember if someone held a gun to your head.

You pat Minji's hand, which was still tapping your arm, telling her to go play and stay close to Yoongi and Hobi. She nods, rushing over to the game with a big smile and plopping down between your friends.

You look down at the jello shot you're still yet to ingest and put it back on the table. Grabbing a solo cup, you pour some cranberry juice into it, glancing at the types of vodkas on display. Your nose scrunches at the cheap brands, your manicured nail tapping the side of the cup in thought before you remember something.

Cup in hand, you make your way to the cupboard below the kitchen sink and pull it open, smiling in triumph as you spot the object of your desire at the back of the cabinet. Bending down, you reach for the bottle quickly before anyone notices you.

"That's off limits."

The familiar smell of his cologne floods your senses before you process his words. You straighten up with a small smile, resting your cup on the counter and turning to face the boy with the pricey bottle of vodka in your hands.

"Even to me?" Your lips pull into a knowing pout, and Jungkook has to force his gaze away from them. Instead, his eyes trail over your outfit, which, in hindsight, was an even dumber idea.

His breath hitches in his fucking throat at the sight of your dress, doing nothing to support your boobs that threaten to spill from the pretty little white fabric. The knot in the noose, though, is the necklace he gifted you on your nineteenth birthday, resting innocently between the valley of your anything-but-innocent tits.

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly as he steps closer to you. You fiddle with the bottle cap while he closes the distance, giving you a moment to drink in how effortlessly his arms fill out his white box-tee.

"No," he says softly, almost laughing at the thought of ever denying you something. "Not you." He takes his bottle of Belvedere from your grasp and unscrews the cap.

You rest against the kitchen sink as your best friend, now less than an inch from your body, reaches around you to grab your cup from the counter. He doesn't say anything as he pours the vodka into the cup, using his familiarity with your favorite drink to know when to stop. Your finger lightly traces over the tattoos spilling from his right sleeve absentmindedly, and he should tell you to stop, or he might drop the cup. But he doesn't.

Once he deems there's enough alcohol in the mix, he lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip. You wait patiently, letting him do his little lip purse before splashing a bit more vodka into the cup and holding it out to you. You take it with a grateful smile, bringing the drink to your lips to taste it as he leans over to get a solo cup of his own. You almost groan when the vodka cranberry hits your tongue. Obviously, it's perfect. He’s annoying like that.

Once Jungkook finishes mixing his drink, he takes a mouthful before returning to you. He catches the way your gaze is fixed on the ground, distraction clouding your eyes, cup resting against your lips as you get lost in your head.

You snap out of it almost instantly when he gets closer to you, putting the cup down next to you so you can slink your arms around his neck when he leans down. But before he allows the feeling of you against his body to make him forget every thought inside his brain, he speaks.

"What's wrong?" he murmurs into the skin of your neck, blindly putting his cup on the counter behind you so he can slip his hands around your waist.

You're quiet for a moment, and if it wasn't for the slight stutter in your fingers playing with the clasp of his Cartier chain, he would think you didn't hear him. He doesn't repeat his question, though, knowing you will answer him in your own time. And even if you don't, that's okay too. But he just won't leave your side the entire night if you're feeling vulnerable.

Yeah, nice excuse for not wanting to leave her alone; his subconscious laughs viciously at him. Jungkook ignores it by burying his face into your neck further.

Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck while you take a deep breath, the calming scent of him grounding you. "I don't know," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tightens his hold on you, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. "Are you getting sick?"

"Yeah, probably. I've just had this weird feel—"

"Kookie, there you are! I thought you got lost getting my drink—oh, hi, Y/N!"

Jungkook stiffens before he lifts himself from you slightly at the sound of Aerum's voice.

You untangle your hand from his hair, poking your head around the side of his large frame to look at the girl strutting into the kitchen. She's pretty, you think as you give her outfit a once-over. If only she wasn't such an insufferable phony, maybe you'd be a little warmer towards her. Maybe.

"Hey, Aerum," you greet uninterestedly, leaning away from Jungkook and ignoring the way he tries to keep you near him.

Lost in his own house? You internally roll your eyes. Why even bother saying something so stupid—

"Is it this one?" she smiles once she reaches you both, grabbing your cup from the counter and taking a sip. "Oh wow, Kookie, it's so good! Is it vodka? Shit, what brand is this?" Aerum squeaks as she takes another sip of your drink.

Jungkook's lips part as he's about to say something about the drink, but you reply with a bored expression, "Belvedere."

Aerum lets out a confused hum as you name the $300 bottle of alcohol. "Huh. I've never heard of it."

You nod, grabbing a bottle of cheap beer as you brush past her to leave the kitchen. "Exactly."

Jungkook and Aerum's hushed conversation fades into the background as you move further away. You reach the living room, where Minji is giggling between Hobi and Yoongi. She grins widely when she sees you enter the room. "Jagi! Come and play!"

You laugh at your roommate, who now has two more empty Jello shot cups and a bottle of cider beside her, which explains the affectionate nickname.

Once you reach the circle, Yoongi and Hobi lean up to give you a hug in greeting before you smush a kiss on Minji's forehead. "Maybe later, jagi. Have you seen our brothers?”

“Mhm! They went outside for a smoke!” She replies distractedly as she’s staring intently at the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle.

You run a hand gently over her hair before turning to Yoongi. Since he’s sober D for his boyfriend tonight, you ask if he can keep an eye on her while they finish their game and if she needs to go home or gets too much to handle, to come and tell you.

Yoongi nods at you with a smile, and you return it before spotting a familiar head of black hair peeking over the back of the couch on the other side of the room.

Approaching the couch quietly, you softly put your beer on the ground before leaning over and covering his eyes with your hands. Mingyu flinches at the unexpected contact, his phone falling from his hands to his lap, but then relaxes as if something clicks.

His warm hands come up to yours, removing them from his eyes before he turns to you with a stunned smile. He takes you in for a second before shaking his head and leaning up on the couch.

You're about to give him a hug but he suddenly wraps his arms around your body, easily pulling you over the couch and laying you down beneath him. You squeal loudly in surprise before it's replaced by soft giggles as Mingyu attacks your neck with kisses, peppering them over every inch of skin he can find.

You draw a breath when there's a slight break in his assault and gesture to your heels digging uncomfortably into the couch. He leans back immediately and pulls them off your feet, placing them on the coffee table with haste that makes you laugh.

Turning back, he lowers his frame to you, your legs subconsciously separating to let him press closer, and he resumes his work on your neck. His kisses move lower, and you let out a sigh at the feeling before he reaches the exposed skin of side-boob peeking from your dress. You let out a quick gasp, grabbing his face with your hands and pulling him up to your face.

He grins at you cheekily, knowing he wouldn't get far but can't find it in himself to regret the action. "Was wondering when you'd get here," he says softly, his voice filled with affection. Your pouty fucking lips covered in that pretty fucking lip gloss distracts him for a moment, and he breathes a dazed sigh, leaning down to rest his face on your chest.

You blame it on the alcohol when the sick feeling in your stomach suddenly returns at the touch of Mingyu's skin on yours.

You blame it on the alcohol when all you can think about as you run your fingers through Mingyu's hair is how it's not as soft as Jungkook's.

You blame it on the alcohol when you let Mingyu snuggle closer into your neck in hopes that you'll feel the same warm sensation as when Jungkook does it.

The nausea, the thoughts of your best friend while you have a gorgeous man on top of you, the pounding in your head as his lips get closer and closer to your necklace. You blame all of it on the alcohol.

The one single sip of fucking alcohol you've consumed tonight.

"Can you pass me my beer, please?" You choke out as his lips are a millimeter away from reaching the skin where your necklace sits.

Mingyu pulls back with a smile, and you almost want to frown at the sweet boy. He deserves so much better. "It's just on the ground over there," you point to the back of the couch, and he nods, leaning over and grabbing your drink.

You release a heavy breath while you play with the hem of his dress shirt when something catches your attention from the corner of your eye. Your fingers tighten slightly around the fabric.

There, leaning with his back against the living room wall, is your best friend with Aerum's lips attached to his neck like a blowfish. Jungkook's brows are furrowed, most likely in pleasure, and his eyes are squeezed shut.

Another wave of the sick feeling washes over you, and you almost let out a frustrated grunt. What the actual fuck is going on with you?

Mingyu leans back on the couch, now with your beer in his hand. Before he can open the cap for you, you snatch it from his hand and toss it to the carpet carelessly. He looks at you curiously, about to ask you what's wrong, but you sit up and swing your leg over his thigh, effectively lodging the words in his throat.

His brows shoot up in surprise before he catches on, his hands finding your waist when you don't waste time pressing your lips to his. Mingyu groans into your mouth when you suckle on his tongue lightly, starting to move against him. Your dress begins to ride up with your movements and deepen the kiss while simultaneously grinding harder into his lap. You can feel him getting harder through the fabric of his jeans, and you zone in on it.

Squeezing your eyes closed tighter to focus, you drag yourself over his covered cock, letting the zipper of his pants graze against your panties. Mingyu detaches from your lips at the sensation, his head throwing back onto the couch as his breathing picks up.

Your hands rest against his chest as you swivel your hips quicker, trying everything you can to spark something in you. Mingyu chokes out a strained fuck when you find the outline of his shaft and let the lips of your covered pussy drag along it.

Nothing. You feel nothing. What the fucking fuck.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is losing himself. His head is still thrown back in pleasure, and you take the opportunity to lean forward and latch your lips to his neck. Your teeth nibble at the skin below his jaw, and he shivers at the action, his hands losing grip on your waist and falling to the swell of your ass. Your movements still haven't relented, grinding against him like you're the only two in the room, and Mingyu doesn't want to admit just how fucking close he is.

He's about to suggest that you guys take it to his room when he feels one of your hands trail down from his chest. His head lifts up to see what you're going to do next, and god, he wishes he didn't, because when you cover the hand of his that's loosely resting on your left asscheek and squeeze? He almost cums in his fucking pants like a teenage boy that just discovered the wonders of third base.

Mingyu does as you wish, grabbing a greedy handful of the flesh with his left hand and uses his right to slide up the back of your neck, returning your mouth to his. You fall into the kiss willingly, letting him lick into your mouth. Letting him take whatever he wants. Mingyu has always been a good kisser. Not even a week ago, he had you dripping from a 10-minute make-out session on his bed. But right now, something inside you tells you that even if you went at it for an hour, it still wouldn't be enough.

You push the sadistic thoughts from your brain and tangle your hands in his hair, nodding against his lips when his hand on your neck drops to your other asscheek and squeezes tightly.

Yes, you think. Touch me. Anywhere. Everywhere. Something is bound to—

"What the fuck?"

Your lips immediately detach from Mingyu's at the sound of the familiar voice booming behind you. You adjust the front of your clothes, which have twisted out of place, and quickly climb off Mingyu's lap. Pulling down the hem of the dress that also rode up a few minutes ago, you blink guiltily at the man staring at you with a disturbed look.

"On my couch? That's disgusting. Take it upstairs or take it to your place, Y/N." Taehyung grits, shaking his head as if it would somehow rid the image of you mounting his frat-mate from his memory.

"Sorry, Tae," you reply to your brother with a purse of your lips before getting over it and looking around for your phone that fell from the pocket of your cover-up.

Mingyu is speechless, gawking at his frat president in horror, not knowing what to say or do. He watches as you finally find the phone wedged between the couch cushions before you lean back onto his chest and scroll through your notifications, un-fucking-concerned.

Mingyu chokes on air, gently lifting you off him and sitting you back up on the seat properly. You give him a confused look, and he returns your gaze with a panicked expression, glancing between you and your brother, who is still standing there glaring at him.

You roll your eyes, lifting Mingyu's arm and throwing it over your shoulder, returning to your previous position. "Don't take him seriously, Gyu. I can't even recall how many times I've accidentally walked in on him and my own friends from high school. And they were doing a lot more than dry humping."

The fact that you aren't bothered helps Mingyu to calm down a bit, but he's still on edge with your brother staring him down.

You glance up at Mingyu when his chest remains stiff beneath your head, and you sigh before turning to your brother. "Tae, you're scaring him. We won't do anything else on your couch, okay? Now shoo, please." You wave him off with your hand.

Your brother just rolls his eyes, looking a little too much like you for your liking, before he nods and says he'll return to patrol the room in 30 minutes.

You watch Taehyung disappear behind the door frame as he heads into another room, and you turn to Mingyu with a teasing grin. "30 minutes? We could be done twice in that time…"

His eyes widen, and he gives another pathetic attempt at suggesting you go upstairs, but when you press your lips to his, the words fizzle out on his tongue as you entwine it with your own.

Jungkook is fucking fuming.

He's absolutely clocked out of the make-out session with Aerum, and she can probably tell that his mind is elsewhere, but he can't bring himself to care, and she makes no move to pull away either.

He feels her getting angsty, desperately wanting to escalate the situation from the way she's pressing harder against him, but Jungkook keeps the pace steady.

He needs to stay in the living room to keep an eye on you because you're obviously not in the right state of mind right now. You're not drunk; he knows what you look like when you've been drinking, and you're basically stone-cold fucking sober. But yet, there you are, one layer away from riding his housemate's cock on his very own fucking couch.

Jungkook would have intervened a long time ago, had he not seen with his own eyes that you were the one initiating every part of the act.

With every swivel of your hips, Jungkook’s heart pounded furiously against his chest. It clenched with every firm squeeze Mingyu placed on your ass, and it shattered completely as you nuzzled into Mingyu’s neck, kissing and nipping at it, just like you did to him in his dreams most nights.

He can’t tear his gaze away. He’s tried—oh, how he’s fucking tried.

He attempted to focus on the pretty girl currently whimpering into his mouth, begging him to touch her, to take her right there in the middle of the room if he so desired. But he couldn’t. His eyes were uncontrollably drawn back to you, to the way Mingyu’s hips lifted to meet yours, each movement a sharp twist to the knife lodged in his pathetic heart.

"Shit," Mingyu groans when the curve of his cock straining against his jeans meets your covered core. "We needa go upstairs, or I'm gonna take you right here on the couch, Y/N."

Your laugh comes out breathy from the frantic movements of your hips as you ignore him, and you lean up so his face can nuzzle between your tits. Your boobs are very sensitive, and that usually does the trick to turn you on.

Why. Isn't. It. Turning. You. On.

You let out a frustrated groan that Mingyu mistakes as a moan of pleasure as he leaves wet kisses against the exposed skin of your tits before he reaches the necklace that's wedged between them. "Fuck, I love this. It's so pretty but looks so dirty on you."

Your skin suddenly fires up at his words, and you feel your hips stutter slightly. "Yeah?" you question in a rush, grinding harder against him to chase the feeling.

"Mhm," he nods, brushing his nose over the pendant.

"Bite it."

He looks up at you, his gaze locking with yours filled with a hunger that hadn't been present all night.

"Bite it?" he repeats, his voice a mix of confusion and intrigue, hips meeting yours halfway as your movements become sloppier, more desperate.

Your head tilts as you nod desperately, "Please bite it."

Mingyu's eyes flicker down to your chest, and he leans in, his lips grazing the skin near your necklace. Your breath catches as he nears the pendant with its two little conjoined rings. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the whine that threatens to escape.

He plants a lingering kiss on the surrounding flesh before finally catching the pendant between his teeth. You can't hold back the loud moan that escapes your lips—

It happens in the blink of an eye.

You tumble onto the couch cushions as Mingyu is abruptly yanked away and thrown to the living room floor.

You watch in shock as Jungkook pounces on him instantly, Mingyu barely having a moment to react before Jungkook's fist comes crashing down. It connects with Mingyu's jaw with a sickening crunch that reverberates through the room, drawing the attention of a few partygoers.

Mingyu attempts a recovery, throwing a jab that snaps Jungkook's head to the side, but Jungkook quickly regains his focus. He reels his fist back and hammers another brutal punch into Mingyu's face, then another, then another, then another.

Jungkook doesn't know how many punches he's thrown, or how long he's been on top of his housemate, or whose arms grab him from behind to pull him off Mingyu.

His breathing comes in ragged gasps, his knuckles sting with a throbbing pain, and a fierce rage burns through his veins, consuming him entirely. Adrenaline surges through him as he watches Yoongi and Hobi lift a bloodied, struggling Mingyu off the ground.

"What the fuck, Kook?" Taehyung's voice snaps him out of his daze as he and Jimin drag him to his feet.

You remain frozen on the couch, not shifting an inch. Your gaze is fixed on Mingyu as a cluster of people surround him. One person carefully presses a damp rag against his bloodied face while he leans heavily against the wall, another extends a bottle of water towards his shaking hands.

From the grasp of your brother, Jungkook's eyes follow you as you rise and weave through the crowd around Mingyu.

His heart clenches as he watches the pained expression on your face, the saddest he's ever seen. He watches as you whisper something to Mingyu, who shakes his head weakly and reaches out to pull you closer. Instead, you gently grasp his hand, stroking his knuckles with your thumb as tears start to pool in your eyes.

He sees the moment you utter one final word to Mingyu before you let his hand drop softly to his side and walk away

You return to the coffee table, grabbing your shoes and phone before immediately heading for the exit. You spot Minji, who has tears flowing down her cheeks, and she breaks from Yoongi's hold before pulling you into the tightest hug she can muster.

"Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay? What the fuck was that?!" she cries into your shoulder. You almost smile, knowing her emotions always spill over when she's been drinking, but you couldn't muster one even if you tried. Gently pulling away, you dab at the tears under her eyes before turning your attention to Yoongi.

"Can you take her home, please? I'm going to catch an Uber and I feel like being alone for a bit," you half-lie. You're going to walk home, but he doesn't need to know that. He wouldn't let you walk alone at this time.

"Y/N," Yoongi sighs. He didn't miss the way you dodged her question. He wants to urge you to let him drive you home as well, but the resolve in your eyes tells him you won't budge. "Yeah, I'll make sure she gets home safe."

"Thank you," your voice cracks slightly at the end as you squeeze his hand and leave the room before he can stop you.

You can hear footsteps trailing behind you as you reach the door, and you abandon the mission of slipping into your heels, quickly slipping out the door and slamming it behind you.

The cold concrete bites at your bare feet as you hurry down the steps of the frat house, but you barely notice. The sound of the door swinging open behind you only quickens your pace.

"Please, Y/N. Wait. Please."

The tears you've held back since the moment he climbed on top of Mingyu suddenly fall without your permission, and you scoff, wiping them away furiously.

You don't say anything as you reach the path out of the university and continue your trek to your penthouse. It's dark, the sparse lights of the school providing little guidance, but you don't care. You just keep walking.

When Jungkook catches up to you and tries to take your hand, something inside you explodes. You snatch your arm away furiously, your heels and phone dropping from your hands as you turn to face him. Before you know what you're doing, you push against his chest, shoving him away from you. He barely moves and that makes you even angrier. “Fuck you, Jeongguk!” You shove him again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you," again, "Fuck you."

Your voice trembles on the last words, and you can't stop the sob from wracking your body. He reacts instantly, stepping forward to pull you into his arms as you break down.

His hands cradle the back of your head as you shake against his chest, his heart clenching at the sound of your cries. "I'm so sorr—"

You pull away from him, running your sleeve over your face to wipe at the tears. "What about your future, Jeongguk? What if he presses charges? If this gets back to your parents? Affects your student record?" You shake your head in utter disbelief, your hands running through your hair in an attempt to ground yourself. "Mingyu is such a good guy, how could you even—fuck." Mingyu.

Your heart clenches at the memory of him trying to keep you close even after he had the shit beaten out of him. You brought him into this mess. That was all fucking you.

"You can't do shit like that, Jeongguk! You c-can't," you stammer, batting his hand away as your voice cracks again, "You had no right to do that."

"I know, Y/N!" His voice rises, and you see tears welling in his own eyes. "I fucking know! I know I didn't have any right to do that. And I fucking hate it!"

You're speechless, but Jungkook isn't finished, "I had no right to punch Lee Seo-jun when he gave you your first kiss, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Kang Doyun when you told me he felt you up for the first time, so I didn't. I had no right to punch Jeong Jaehyun every time I watched him have you like I wanted to have you, so I fucking didn't!"

Tears stream down your face unchecked as Jungkook's hands gently cup your face, his thumbs trembling as they try to wipe your tears away. "I had no right to punch Mingyu because he has everything I want. But I did. And I know you don't want to hear it, but I don't fucking regret—"

"I hate you."

Jungkook doesn't know what to do when he hears you say those words. He stumbles back slightly, his throat tightening, and his heart slams against his chest so hard he thinks it's about to crack through his skin.

A trembly shake of his head, "No—"

Your tears stop as abruptly as they came, your gaze hollow and resigned. "We need some space. This is unhealth—"

"No, please," the tips of his ears turn red as he chokes back a sob, "I fucked up, baby, I know. I'm gonna fix it. Let me fix it. I don't want space, I-I can't have space," his words tumble out desperately, completely unaware of the nickname that slips out. But it doesn't matter; nothing does, if you leave him.

You pull your face from his grasp and take a small step backward. The weak light posts give you just enough vision to see his bloodshot eyes and broken expression. Your hand twitches, yearning to brush his hair away from his face and wipe his tears—the tears he's crying for you.

Don’t be fucking stupid, your subconscious snarls.

Those tears aren't for you. They're for the idea of you.

If he doesn't have you, who's he going to cuddle up to at night when he's bored and doesn't have a pussy appointment to get to?

Who will pass on his Instagram handle to their classmates when they rave about his insane dick game and want to try it for themselves?

Who will drag him to mandatory family gatherings, knowing his dad would slash his trust fund for missing yet another one?

Not Kim Bora, his first kiss, a week before your own with Lee Seo-jun.

Not Park Soojin, the first girl he felt up under the shirt, three days before you let Kang Doyun do the same to you.

Not Cho Eunji, the only girl he ever took on a second date, the night that you made things official with Jeong Jaehyun.

You spent countless nights crying over a boy who saw you merely as a friend. The little sister that tagged along to playdates because her brother wasn’t allowed to have fun without her. The spoiled daughter of his father’s closest friend, who he was obligated to protect at school because she never hesitated to voice her blunt opinions, especially to those she thought sucked.

The same girl who saved the most sacred part of herself for her best friend. The girl who, without hesitation, turned down every single guy who promised they'd cherish such a precious gift. The girl who prayed to a God she didn't even believe in, hoping Jungkook would realize that the person who loved and cared for him most was right before his eyes all along.

All for that very boy to carelessly give his innocence to some random chick at a high school party, not even bothering to call her the next day.

That was the moment your perception of love shifted. That was the moment you stopped looking for what his words and touches could mean, and started seeing them for what they were. Friendly. Insincere. Meaningless.

You thought the day Jungkook confessed his feelings would be the happiest of your life. You imagined it would erase all the pain, all the tears, as if they were nothing more than a pathetic nightmare.

But you don't feel happy. You feel angry. Angry that the words you've longed to hear don't make you want to fall into his arms and never leave. Instead, they make you want to run and never come back.

So you do exactly that.

You ignore your phone and shoes lying on the pavement. You ignore your best friend's croaky shout of your name. You ignore that the stony road leading away from the University grounds only grows darker and darker the further you go. You ignore the sharp ache in your feet from the rocks beneath your bare soles. And you run.

You run faster than you ever have in your entire life. You run until your legs burn, unused to anything but your two weekly low-impact fucking pilate sessions. You run until Jungkook's yelling fades into the distance behind you.

You run until you can almost see the lights of the main street. You run until you hear his footsteps gaining on you, the stupid lacrosse captain clearing the distance twice as fast as you ever could. You run until the thumping of your heart drowns out the pain of the sticks and rubble digging into your feet.

You run until the light gets brighter. You run until the light gets closer. You run until you realize they aren't streetlights. You run until you realize it's the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. You run until you can't stop yourself quickly enough. You run until you hear the scream of your best friend behind you. You run until you don't feel the impact of the hit. You run until the world around you fades to black.

Your head hits the pavement hard, bouncing slightly.

Jungkook's arms are around you in an instant, cradling you close as he sobs, "No, no, no, baby, please."

The driver of the car, a college kid who looks just as shaken, gets out to check on you, his face pale and stricken.

"Go to the frat house and get Taehyung. Now." Jungkook barks at the boy, though his eyes never leave your face.

The kid nods frantically, dashing back towards campus, stumbling in his haste. Jungkook pays him no attention, his tears falling onto your face as he holds you tighter.

"Hold on, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over his sobs. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

You lay limp in his embrace, your breathing shallow. His tears mix with the dirt and blood on your face as he presses his forehead against yours, his entire body shaking with sobs. He holds you tighter, rocking back and forth as he brushes the hair away from your face.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he sat there in the dark, the cold night air wrapping around you both. What was realistically no more than two minutes felt like two hours. The distant sounds of the campus were muffled, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Jungkook's tears didn't stop, his heart breaking more and more with each passing second of your silence.

"Ow, fuck." You groan weakly.

Jungkook's grip tightens as he lifts his head. "Y/N," he chokes softly, his hand supporting your head as you try to sit up. "D-Don't try to move too much. We're gonna—we're gonna get you to the hospital, okay?"

You looked at him, your eyes filled with confusion and pain. "Did I really just get hit by a fucking car?"

He shook his head with a teary laugh, his fingers gently caressing your hair. "No," he sniffled. "I managed to tackle you b-before... But you hit your head when we fell. I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, your hand resting on his head when he rested it on your chest, and you couldn't help but run your fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry."

His breathing stops, and he looks at you with the most saddened expression you've ever seen. "W-why the fuck would you say that? Don't apologize. None of this is your fault," Jungkook shook his head, his tears falling anew.

"I'm sorry for saying I hate you," you said softly, your hand resting on the side of his neck as he trembled. "If anything’s going to teach me of all people a lesson, it’s a near-death experience...” You let out a pained laugh, “Would hate if that was the last thing I ever said to you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "Y/N, you don't know how much I l—"

The sound of frantic footsteps interrupts him. Taehyung's voice calls out in panic, and within moments, he’s kneeling beside you, his face a mix of fear and relief.

"Oh fuck, Y/N," he said, his voice shaking as he quickly assesses your condition. "C'mon, we need to get you to a hospital," he says through teary eyes.

With Jungkook's help, you managed to get to your feet, leaning heavily on him for support. Taehyung saw you struggling to keep your balance and quickly scooped you into his arms, jogging over to his car he left running. He gently placed you in the backseat, and Jungkook was on the other side in an instant, getting you comfortable while your brother rushed to the driver's seat.

As you drove to the hospital, Jungkook didn’t let go of your hand.

Not as he forced you to drink from the water bottle Taehyung passed back to you. Not as he leaned your head on his chest, gently inspecting your scalp for any severe cuts or bleeding. Not as you grunted at him when he jiggled you slightly every time you closed your eyes for a second too long, worried that you were losing consciousness.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

"You've got a mild concussion," Dr. Choi said with a reassuring smile, her voice calm and professional. "You were fortunate. Your head hit the ground hard, but thankfully, there are no signs of severe trauma or bleeding."

Beside you, Jungkook's grip on your hand tightened. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his gaze fixed anxiously on the doctor. "So, she's going to be okay?"

In the cushioned armchair next to your hospital bed, your brother shifted slightly in his sleep. You reached over to gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, careful not to wake him.

Lately, his roles as frat president, lacrosse captain, and his involvement in the family business had worn him thin. The exhaustion had overwhelmed him, and he had fallen asleep almost as soon as he settled into the chair. This really is the last thing he needs to be doing, and so with a final look of guilt, you let your brother rest and turned back to Dr. Choi.

Dr. Choi responded to Jungkook with a nod. "Yes, she'll be fine," she assured him. "Concussions can cause symptoms like dizziness, headache, nausea, and fatigue. She might feel drowsy and out of sorts for a few days, but with rest and avoiding any strenuous activities, she should recover fully within a week."

You blinked, your head still throbbing but feeling a bit more relieved. "So, I can go home?"

"Yes," the doctor confirmed, writing some notes on your chart. "I'm going to release you shortly. Make sure you rest, avoid any physical exertion, and stay hydrated. If you experience any worsening symptoms—like severe headache, vomiting, or confusion—come back immediately, okay?"

Jungkook gave the doctor a firm nod. "We will."

Dr. Choi smiled at him, a soft expression on her face. "Good. And make sure she avoids screens for a bit—no phones, no computers, no TV. Just rest."

You groan while Jungkook just signals his understanding.

As the doctor turned to leave the room and finalize your discharge papers, she glanced back with a knowing smile. "And maybe a break from the drama for a little while too?"

Jungkook's head hung low as he continued to gently caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

"No more boys and no more running into traffic, got it. Thanks, doc." You nodded at the middle-aged woman, who gave you one last amused look before leaving the room.

That was six days ago.

The throbbing ache and, more importantly, the big ugly bump that was once on your forehead have now almost completely faded. If it hadn't, and you were stuck with a permanent scar on your face, you would've hunted down the kid who nearly hit you with his car and told him to finish the job.

Speaking of that kid, he tried to reach out to you quite a few times since you've been absent from classes. He couldn't get in direct contact with you since Jungkook had confiscated all of your devices, but he was persistent. He bugged almost every person he knew to be a close friend of yours until finally, on the second to last day of your 'quarantine', being the chronic people-pleaser that he is, Jimin cracked and brought him to your penthouse.

You were lounging on the sofa, your head resting in Jungkook’s lap as he read aloud to you, when Jimin ushered him in. You felt Jungkook stiffen instantly, and it took your sitting up and pressing down on his thigh to keep him from lunging at the poor boy.

His name is Lee Yongbok, an exchange student from Australia. He's a freshman, 19 years old, and his Korean dialect is fucking adorable.

Yongbok’s eyes were brimming with tears when he saw you, apologies tumbling from his lips for what felt like an eternity before you gently cut him off.

You first asked him if he was crying at your appearance and he just shook his head with a wobbly lip and said he’s just really happy to see you. Thank god. You were worried there was another bump somewhere that Jungkook hadn’t told you about.

You told him it was okay, that it wasn't his fault. That you were the crazy lady who ran in front of his car. That he did nothing wrong.

He dropped to his knees at your kindness, something nobody had ever done before. In fact, "kind" was probably the last word anyone would ever use to describe you.

He offered to pay for any medical bills, any necessities, anything you might need or couldn't afford. You giggled at the thought.

You thanked him for coming to see you. You told him not to lose any sleep over it, that you're okay and he's okay. You gave him your number and told him that when your grouchy caregiver returns your phone, you'd send him a text.

When he was about to depart, he asked if he could give you a hug. You nodded, telling him to come closer because Jungkook's hand was not letting go of your waist.

Yongbok happily pulled you and Jungkook into a joint hug since he refused to move. Jungkook reluctantly participated, giving the kid a pat on the back while he snuggled you both and you couldn't stop the loud laugh that escaped your lips.

Yongbok thanked you one last time before he left with Jimin and Minji, telling you to please let him know if you think of anything you may need. What a sweet boy.

Aside from making amends with Yongbok, and your close friends visiting your penthouse throughout the week to bring your schoolwork and random gifts, you haven’t had much interaction with the outside world.

You haven’t seen Mingyu since that night.

In person, at least. You've been texting frequently and even FaceTimed a few times. His eye was healing well, for which you’re very grateful.

The night Jungkook brought you home after the hospital, you found several missed calls from Mingyu on your phone that Yoongi delivered when he saw it on the ground outside whilst taking Minji home.

Your device ban hadn’t started yet, so you called him back immediately and spent over two hours talking and crying. You apologized for everything you had dragged him into, and he insisted you had nothing to be sorry for.

Mingyu truly is the kindest and most gentle soul, and you’ll always regret hurting him the way you did.

During that conversation, he told you he loved you.

Even though it took a messed-up situation to realize it, you knew you had love for Mingyu too. He had always been there for you whenever you needed someone, whether the nights you spent together were fueled by lust and sexual frustration or not, they were meaningful and amazing. He made it so easy to love him, even if your feelings couldn’t match the depth of his.

Mingyu had undoubtedly gotten the short end of the stick in your relationship, always giving more than he received. In your newfound friendship, you are determined to make it up to him. And you will.

Jungkook, too, had been deeply affected by the night’s events. After you finished up with Mingyu, Jungkook took your phone when you handed it to him and disappeared for an hour.

As far as you know, Jungkook apologized and they talked it out. Neither of them like going into much detail with you about it, which is a little frustrating, but you respect their privacy and don’t push further.

Jungkook did come back into your room with red puffy eyes though, and you softly teased him about crying before you snuggled up together and watched a movie.

Jungkook had taken a week off classes to look after you. You rolled your eyes when he first told you, not taking him seriously. But when you woke up the next day, cuddled against his chest while he scrolled through his TikTok feed, you started to believe him.

And when you tried to lean up and see what he was watching, only for him to immediately turn the device away, adhering to the doctor's orders of no screens, you realized just how serious he was.

Over the past six days, you've fallen into a stupid little domestic routine. Now, as you're almost fully recovered and preparing to return to classes tomorrow, a grey cloud looms over you both. The topic you haven't dared to address since that night is getting closer, heavier. You can both feel it.

That's why, as Jungkook slowly packs his clothes into his overnight bag in preparation for tomorrow and you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your nails, the room is enveloped in a heavy silence.

You knew it was a bad idea to let him stay. To ignore everything that should've been sorted the first morning after the incident. But instead you chose to live in blissful ignorance for six days while you play fucking house.

But come on. Having Jungkook dote on you and care for you for an entire week? Please, that's every female student at Yonsei's wet dream. Quite a few guys, too.

You look up from your nails as he zips up his bag, kicking it to the corner of the room before resting the clothes he'll wear tomorrow on your dresser. He looks over at you, walking to the edge of the bed. For the first time in all the years you’ve consciously known him, he hesitates to touch you.

You blink at him, not moving, not saying anything.

Finally, Jungkook breaks the silence, his voice quiet and raspy, "Should we talk?"

You swallowed, nodding slightly. "Okay."

He sits down beside you, close but not touching. "I meant it, you know. Everything I said."

You hesitate, your gaze fixed down on your painted toes. "And what did you say?"

You can feel his eyes on you, but you don't look up. He brushes some hair—that's growing out nicely as you put it—behind his ear before taking a deep breath. He can't fuck this up.

"I've been in love with you since I learned what love was."

The room goes silent. Neither of you dare to even breathe.

"Wha-huh?"

"I've been in love with you ever since I learned what love was," You repeat.

You finally look at him, and he can't decipher the expression on your face. His eyes flicker between yours, searching for any sign that this is a prank, that Minji is about to burst in with a camera and tell him he's on live television.

"Maybe even before that," you continue, "but I just didn't know what it meant."

Jungkook’s heart races, each beat erratic and intense. He feels like he's about to pass the fuck out.

"No," he croaks.

You blink, "No?"

"No," he shakes his head, "you can't. Y-you can't be. That's not—you're n—what—what the fuck?"

You watch, silent, as he struggles with your revelation, the weight of your words clearly unsettling him.

Oh, you think. You've freaked him out by dropping the L word.

Well, you definitely misread the room there.

It’s not like you haven’t said "I love you" before. You tell each other that often enough—when he drops you off somewhere, at the end of your phone calls, when you give each other random gifts that remind you of the other.

But "I'm in love with you"? Yeah, that one’s a bit new…

Your stomach tightens, but you stay quiet, watching as his hand moves desperately through his hair, as if he doesn’t know what to do.

After a few minutes, he stops and turns to you. He didn't plan for it to go this way. He doesn't know what to fucking do.

You sigh, “I know this changes shit. Ruins everything. I thought I had it under control, but I really don't. And I'm not strong enough to keep pretending. So, if you're okay with still being in each other's lives, we need to set some clear boundari—"

"I fucking love you, Y/N." He kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands into both of his larger ones. "I've been obsessed with you since your mom brought you over to my house when we were five, and you told me my eyes looked like boba pearls."

You look into his eyes as he says that. They really do remind you of tapioca pearls…

"I can't remember a single day of my entire life where I haven't been in love with you. There is no me without you. You are all I can see when I think of my past and all I can see when I think of my future. No matter what you are to me, you're there. In every plan I make. In every dream I have. It's you. It's always been you."

You bite the inside of your bottom lip, fighting back tears. You’ve cried more in the last week than you have in your entire adult life.

"We are so fucking stupid." You sniffle, tipping your head back slightly to try and blink the tear up into your duct.

"We are," he agrees, gently tilting your head down and running his thumb under your lash line to catch the tear.

Once your face is dry, Jungkook's thumb travels down and brushes lightly over your bottom lip. He smiles when it feels exactly as he had imagined, another item mentally ticked off his bucket list.

You're about to ask if he's high when he suddenly springs into action, tackling you back onto the bed. You bounce slightly against the mattress as he holds himself up, careful not to squash you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you try, and fail, to suppress a smile at the idiot above you.

"It fucking sucked seeing you with other guys," he confesses, the words he’s been holding back for years finally breaking free.

Your fingers dance across his back, tracing idle patterns on the fabric of his shirt as you respond, “It fucking sucked seeing you with other girls.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you, a pout on his lips. "You should've told me, and I would've—"

“You should've told me!” you interject, giving him a playful smack on the chest. His frown deepens for a moment before breaking into a wide, uncontrollable grin.

He buries his head back into your neck, and you can feel him smiling against you. "You're such a loser," you giggle as you feel his teeth on your neck, not in a sexy biting way but because he's literally fucking grinning against you.

Time slips by quietly as your fingers sketch invisible designs across his back. Eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you think we knew?” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Hmm?” you hum, your hand pausing in its motion to thread through his hair.

He shivers slightly under your touch before elaborating, “Do you think we knew that we were in love with each other?”

Your movements resume, alternating between letting his hair slip through your fingers and gentle scalp scratches. “Yeah, I think so."

He nestles closer, the sensation of your nails against his scalp coaxing a suppressed groan from him. "Why do you think we didn't say anything?"

"I don't know," you reply honestly. "Maybe we were too comfortable. Or maybe we were scared of what it would actually mean."

Jungkook lifts his gaze to meet yours, searching your eyes for answers. “What does it mean?” he asks quietly.

You smile, continuing to play with his hair. “You have a lot of questions,” you tease gently.

His nose scrunches at your evasive reply, and you run your finger down the bridge of it. "Such a pretty nose," you hum.

His eyes flutter shut at the touch, then snap open again. “You’re distracting me.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards. "Am I?"

He nods, making no move to stop the traces of your digit along his face. When your finger brushes the edge of his lip, he turns his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of your finger, his actions drawing a gentle smile from you.

"You don't—do you not want to," he starts, hesitating mid-sentence before pushing himself to continue, “be with me?”

You bite your lip thoughtfully, finishing your gentle explorations of his face, your hand settling back onto his back. “I want to be with you more than anything else in the world, Gukkie.”

He lets out a breath of relief at your words, but his face falls slightly when he senses your hesitation. "But?"

"But," you say softly, "I'm scared. I'd rather have you in my life as my best friend than not have you at all if things don't work out."

He shakes his head, his hand cupping your face gently. “I told you. No matter what you are to me, I want you in my life. Isn’t that the same for you?”

"Of course it is, but you can't guarantee we'll feel this way in—"

“You’re such a beautiful,” he interrupts, planting a soft kiss on your jaw, “intelligent,” another on your neck, “incredible,” he continues down to your collarbone, “pessimist.” He finishes with a kiss just above your heart.

He gazes up at you with a mischievous grin as you narrow your eyes at him. "I will always want you in my life, no matter what shit ends up happening. Even if you tell me you hate me, or you like, fuck my dad or something…" He looks at you seriously, and you roll your eyes, unable to stifle your snicker.

"Well, your dad is kind of a DILF—"

“I’ll never willingly leave your life. And I’ll never do anything to make you want me to leave. And I promise you, on everything that is holy,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to a tender spot below your ear, “I’ll want you in mine for the rest of my fucking days.”

“You better,” you tease, his smile pressing into your skin before you grow serious, “because I can’t lose you.”

Jungkook’s sigh warms your skin, his nose nudging your head back as he murmurs, “You really don’t understand just how obsessed I am with you, do you, baby?”

His gaze lingers on your exposed throat, tracing every swallow, every breath. Unable to resist, he leans in, his lips finding the base of your throat, humming in contentment at the little noise you make.

Slowly, he makes his way to the side of your supple neck, his lips never detaching from your skin on his journey. You feel his breath as he hovers over the area for a second in pausing, and you wonder if it's because he can hear your heart slamming against your ribcage.

No strenuous activities.

His lips finally latch onto the skin of your neck and you feel the tiniest flick of his tongue as he suckles at the flesh.

Avoid physical exertion.

You let out the softest, breathiest fucking moan he's ever heard, and he pulls off your neck with a wet pop. His bunny teeth poke out to nibble at the now moist skin as he slowly moves to your collarbone.

Make sure you rest.

His kisses get lower, hotter, wetter, until finally, his face hovers over your thin little sleep shirt that he's considered throwing down the garbage disposal since you put it on. Bra, nowhere in sight, your hardened nipples taunt him through the pathetic excuse of a t-shirt. He glances up at you with eyes darkened with desire.

Fuck it, you've had enough rest.

You slide your hands up the back of his neck and dra him down to you, your lips meeting his with urgency. You swallow the surprised groan that escapes him, his arms framing your face as he looms over you.

Jungkook feels the tension in his muscles melt away as he surrenders to you. When you part your lips slightly, inviting him closer, he doesn't hesitate.

Your body ignites when his tongue slips into your mouth, lapping against yours and exploring as if it had always belonged there. As your back arches towards him instinctively, he slips large hand behind it, pressing you flush against him.

The countless times he's imagined this exact scenario could easily label him a certified stalker, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. He was absolutely fucked.

You're lost in the sensation, the warm air of your bedroom enveloping you blissfully. Nothing but the sounds of your mouths moving against each other's, tongues melting into one. Jungkook swallows the breathy whimper that escapes your lips with pride, his hips shifting forward at the fact that he's the one drawing such a noise from you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down, urging him to erase any space left between you.

"Fuck, Y/N," he chokes out, parting from your lips to suck in a deep breath as he feels the warmth between your thighs through his sweatpants.

"I know," you nod dumbly, mind foggy as you grind your hips into his desperately.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "It's never fucking felt like this," he confesses, each word punctuated with a thrust that draws a deeper moan from your lips.

"I know," you whine in agreement, your left arm linking around the back of his neck as you meet his movements, your entire body responding to his every move.

It hasn't felt like this. Ever. You've thought that you've had some pretty good sex in your life, but this is… different. All you’ve done is kiss and grind a little, and yet you can feel those tingles in your fucking toes that people always sing about.

It would be easy to say that it's because it's been eight long days since your last orgasm, but you know that's not the case. It's because it's him.

You've never wanted a cock in you so badly. Especially not after just three measly minutes of dry humping. But god, you're so turned on right now you're pretty sure if he pulled your panties to the side, it would spray at him like a fucking fire hydrant. As you said, it's been eight days; you're a little feral right now…

You feel him stiffening through his sweats, your back arching a little more as you shift and wiggle to try and usher his covered cock through the folds of your covered pussy.

Jungkook's hips stutter when he feels you trying to line him up, and his head jerks up to look at you. He drinks in your blissed-out features; lip between your teeth, head tilted slightly, eyes closed. So pretty.

Your eyes flutter open at the long pause in his movements, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

Cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, eyes hooded.

You almost let a giggle slip when you see the similarities between his horny face and his drunk face.

"Do you want to take a nap?"

You blink at him.

"I'm sorry?"

The pink tinge that coats his cheeks creeps down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. "I just thought—"

"What?" you ask, maaaybe a little offended, "you don't wanna fuck me?"

His brows furrow as he sits up, his heels resting under his butt as he stares at you like you've just kicked a puppy before his very eyes. "First of all, I want to fuck you. I've wanted to fuck you since you made me pop my first boner at your dumb little pool party—"

"Jeongguk," you cringe, "we were like twe—"

"I've never wanted to fuck someone more than I. want. to. fuck. you." You almost laugh at the serious expression on his face but bite it back when you notice the undertone of worry in his gaze.

"I just want it to be perfect," he sighs, his tattooed hand lifting to brush through his hair, one of his nervous tics. "There's so much I want to do... and I want it all to be, like, perfect... god, Y/N, I'm being such a little bitch—"

"No," you cut him off simply, "you're being really fucking hot."

He looks at you with a slight pout as you shoot him a small smile before sitting up and mirroring his position. Your bare knees touch his that are covered by the gray Celine sweatpants you bought him last Christmas as a stocking stuffer. You're a good deal shorter than him, so your head is tilted up slightly, blinking at him slowly through your lashes.

You watch his gaze soften and you internally smirk. There we go.

You've waited far too long for the man sitting in front of you on your queen-sized bed—staring at you with more lust than you know what to do with—to prolong this any longer.

You can have your perfect night when you're not a week into an unplanned celibacy course, and your clit doesn't feel like it's going to shrivel up and snap off if left unattended any longer.

"If you want to wait, we'll wait." You shrug as you look from his left eye to his right, then down to his swollen lips. "But I haven't touched myself in eight days... And it hurts, Gukkie."

Your head hits the pillow as his mouth is back on yours in an instant. You moan in satisfaction, your lips parting eagerly to let him in further. Your legs wrap back around his waist happily, and your foot trails down to rub soft patterns against his hamstring while his tongue plays with yours.

"This is just a practice run," he grunts as he separates from you, kissing his way down your chest before he gets to the valley of your breasts.

"Yeah, yeah, grace period, whatever you want, baby, just keep going," you blurt in a huff, eyes closed in anticipation as his mouth is about to finally do some damage.

You almost scream when he stops.

You snap your eyes open and look down at the son of a bitch breathing hot air onto your already hot skin while he just smiles at you.

"Say that again."

"Say wha—"

"Baby. You called me baby, say it again."

You stare at him for a moment, your idea to tease him diminishing with the last of your patience.

"Baby," you add a shy pout to really sell it and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, "can you suck on them for a little?"

You watch as Jungkook's smile fades and his eyes unfocus, like he just transported into a different state. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he nods once, almost to himself, before he takes the bottom of your shirt that's ridden up to your belly button and lifts it to rest under your chin. Your tits bounce slightly as they spill from the fabric, and he lets out a soft "fuck" before diving in.

His hot mouth latches to your left nipple, groaning when he feels the bud pebble against his tongue. His lips pucker around the nub, sucking it into his mouth desperately, and he lets out a loud moan. This is it. This is heaven, he thinks.

Your legs shakily unlatch from around his waist, and you rest your feet on the mattress, your knees bent and pressing against his sides while he makes out with your tits.

His teeth graze gently over your nipple before he gives it a little nibble, which causes your back to arch. Doing so forces more of your boob into his mouth and he lets out a low muffled groan through a mouthful of your flesh.

"Mmmf've wanted these in my mouth for a long fucking time..." He slurs when he pulls back. His big hands cup your big tits, his gaze concentrated and focused as he jiggles and plays with them, like he can't believe what he's seeing.

"Do you wanna fuck them?"

Jungkook lets out a loud groan at your filthy words, spoken with such an innocent tone his cock is almost confused as it swells like a fucking water balloon in his pants.

His left hand continues to rub soothingly at one of your tender nipples while the other slips down between you. He looks up at the blurry need in your eyes, and his traveling hand almost misses the waistband of his sweats.

"I always knew you were dirty," he breathes out, the words muffled as he plants soft, wet kisses on each of your nipples, sending shivers down your spine. With a strained groan, he frees his painfully hard erection from the confines of his briefs. "But fuck, baby, this is gonna kill me."

God, the way he says baby. Straight to the fucking core.

You tap his bum with your foot and a pretty smile, sitting up on the bed when he lifts his frame to let you slide out. His angry red cock is flush against his stomach, only the top few inches visible from the briefs that rose back up to cover him.

He lets you usher him to sit at the edge of your bed, his feet digging into your fluffy rug as he tries to ground himself while you settle. Your shirt is still being held up on its own because your tits won't let it fucking fall and Jungkook shakes his head in awe at the sight. Fucking unbelievable.

The moment you kneel on the ground, the tops of your feet flat against the carpet as you lean up slightly, your eyes fixate on his throbbing cock like it's a priceless painting. Jungkook loses his mind.

Your eyes slowly lift to his when you hear his heaved, choky breathing. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you fight the urge to smile. "You're so pretty, Gukkie."

"You're prettier, baby," he replies without missing a beat, one hand supporting his weight on the bed while the other gently caresses your face.

A radiant smile spreads across your lips as you turn your face to place a fleeting kiss on his palm. His lips tug upwards at the action before the air is suddenly ripped from his lungs.

Leaning forward, you pull his briefs fully down, unsheathing his entire shaft. You tug the boxers and sweatpants so they rest under his balls, cooing at the way the elastic slightly pushes up his length, making it even angrier as a dribble of liquid gathers at the tip. You lift his shirt absentmindedly to get it out of the way, and he understands, lifting a hand to the back of the neckline and pulling it off his torso.

You barely have a chance to appreciate his tight abs, tiny waist, sinful ink that coats his skin, or the sparkling Cartier chain that dangles from his neck, a mirror of your own.

Your head tilts as you admire the prettiest dick you've ever had in front of you, each vein and ridge perfectly imperfect, complementing each other in a way that would look strange if a single one were to go missing. "Needa..." you hum, entranced, "get it wet first."

"Fuckkkkk," Jungkook moans as you lean down and lick a fat strip from the base of his balls all the way up his shaft, sucking the tip into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed on their own, the feeling of his heavy cock weighing your tongue down, making you drowsy and floaty. The scent of your body wash wafts from his skin, igniting a possessive fire in your gut you didn't even know you had as you suckle at the head. The moment he twitches against your tongue, any thought of titty-fucking flies right out your penthouse window. You're not letting him out of your mouth.

"Ohhh-hhh," he stammers as your tongue focuses on the ridge of his tip, lapping at his frenulum like it's your favorite blueberry flavored lollipop.

His hand, which had dropped back to the bed when you took him in your mouth, lifts to run through your hair, brushing it out of your face when it threatens to get in the way of your masterwork. Your eyes blink open in thanks, looking up at him dazedly, and when you catch his own, he throws his head back with a groan.

"Fuck!" He curses as you hum around his shaft, letting your lips part slightly so saliva can drip from your mouth and trail down his cock. His head snaps up to watch as you keep pushing more spit until you deem there enough before your right-hand lifts to clasp around the member.

Jungkook's eyes roll back, the grunts falling from his lips not even registering in his brain as they spew. "Fuck, baby," he huffs out. You wiggle your fingers until you have a good hold on his cock before giving it a few lazy squeezes to get the blood pumping.

"Fucking fuck!" He's absolutely done for, his entire vocabulary vanishing from his mind as you play with his dick like a joystick. Your tongue gives a final flick to lap up the precum spilling from his glan before you inhale deeply through your nose and start to feed the shaft down your throat.

The walls of your throat contract slightly as his thick girth tests your boundaries, but you push through the resistance and force it further until your lips reach your hand gripping the base of his cock.

"Oh my fucking god," Jungkook almost falls backward, but the hand that's not holding your hair out of the way steadies his balance, shaking as it works to keep him upright.

His hips jerk unconsciously when you move your hand from the base, resting it gently against his balls as you inhale through your nose again and finish him off. "Baby! B-fuck!" Jungkook would like to say that it was a manly groan, but it was a pure and outright whine.

His vocality goes straight to your cunt, your clit aching and throbbing against your underwear, screaming at you to let it breathe. You resist the urge to trail a hand down and relieve the pain, instead using it to cup Jungkook's full ballsack and roll it between your fingers. His whines get louder at that, and you almost smile around his cock.

You wait until you feel the familiar sensation of the cockhead tickling the back of your throat, the automatic gag rising through your entire body, making you swallow harshly against his shaft. 

When you swallow, you rid the excess saliva that was in your mouth, so you lift off for a second to gather more. As you do, you look up to your best friend and see him staring down at you like you hung the stars, and the smile finally breaks its way to your lips.

You lean up to give him a kiss, and he meets you halfway, his hand falling from your hair to cup your face as he melts into your mouth. It's short, sweet, and soft, yet it makes your entire body flush with goosebumps.

"I love you so much," Jungkook breathes when you pull away, and you coo at the softy, pressing a gentle kiss against his pretty nose.

"I love you more, my Gukkie," you reply sweetly before returning to the task at hand.

"Not possi—" his words are cut off when you let a stream of saliva drip from your mouth before taking him down in one swift motion.

"Oh," he moans, both hands gathering your hair into a loose ponytail, following the rise and fall of your head as you deepthroat his cock. "Oh, fuck. Yeah, fucking shittt."

You quicken your pace, your right hand like a magnet below your lips, gliding up and down his length as you squeeze it intermittently, picking up on the subtle jerks of his hips. The spit coating his cock squelches with every stroke, the filthy noise echoing in your bedroom, making your hips shift against the heels of your feet. You're so turned on. Why is his dick so fucking pretty?

Your mouth is lethal, dragging all the way until the only thing left in your cave is the tip before gulping all the way back to the base. "Yesss, baby," he chokes, "taking it so well, my baby. So fucking well."

His praise loosens the final screw in your hazy brain, your hand on the base moving to grip his thigh as you gurgle as deep as you can, the tip brushing against your uvula. You gag, hard and loud, spit spilling from your lips as your teary eyes squeeze shut. Your nails dig into his skin, and he lets out the loudest moan of the night, his hips jerking forward roughly, forcing another gag from your throat.

"Mmmmmfh," you moan desperately, squeezing his thigh tightly and running your free hand back to his balls. You roll the sack in your hand, lifting your head up and down his cock with no mercy, sloppily choking on his throbbing length.

His hands tangled in your hair are shaking, his abdomen tensing as he's overwhelmed with pleasure. "God, look at you just taking it all babyy, hhffuckk,” he praises through a grunt, watching the saliva spill out from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to his balls while you fondle them. “Best fucking girl, you know that? Making me feel so fucking good. Just want me to come down your tight little throat, don’t you, my baby?"

Your eyes roll back behind your closed lids as you nod pathetically with a mouthful of his cock. You lift off with a wet pop, your eyes blinking open as you guide your hand from cupping his balls up to his shaft. You jerk him tight and sloppily before leaning down and taking his sac into your mouth. It's big, barely fitting in your mouth, but you force your jaw wider, using your tongue to usher his balls inside.

"Ahhhhffuck," Jungkook whines, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your tongue laps around his balls ruthlessly as you quicken your tugs on his shaft. When you moan greedily, wiggling your head as the sac pulses and rolls against your tongue, Jungkook feels the familiar sensation flooding his body. It's faster and harder than ever before. He tries to gesture you off him, afraid if he speaks he will lose control, but you don't relent.

"Baby, y-you gotta hop off," he heaves, his ass cheeks clenching together to try and hold off the urge to cum.

"Mm-mm." You hum a no through a mouthful of ballsack, eyes fluttering open to look up at the gorgeous man trying to take away your meal. Your hand, running amok on his cock twists and squeezes, never halting as you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes.

"Ah," he whines with a shake of his head, his hips thrusting into the air, your mouth jolting with the movement as it's attached to his balls. You hum happily, tongue flicking against them. You can't wait to see his cum dripping down his abs—

Your mouth is ripped from his balls, hand unwillingly releasing his cock as he throws you back onto your bed with purpose. "Hey—"

Jungkook swallows your whine with his mouth, cutting off your thoughts at the source when his tongue delves through your lips, lapping at the taste of him lingering on your tongue. He successfully makes you forget what unimportant thing you were going to say as he devours you, your mouths moving together, sloppy and wet.

He pulls your tongue into his mouth and suckles on the muscle while his hand runs gently over your still-exposed nipple before trailing down to your shorts. Jungkook groans around your tongue when he brushes lightly over your heat, feeling the fabric coating your pussy-lips wet to the touch.

With a final suck on your tongue, he lets it slide back into your mouth before parting from your lips. He looks down at the area he's tracing light strokes on, and his cock twitches at the sight.

"Oh, baby..." He coos, his thumb running over the wet patch in awe before looking to you. Your lip is drawn between your teeth as you nibble lightly on the flesh, eyes clouded as you stare at him with a mellow haze. "So wet, pretty... Gukkie didn't give her any attention, and she's all achy now, hmm?"

"Mmhm," you nod softly, the pout on your face still visible even with your lip tugged between your teeth. Jungkook pulls his gaze from his thumb and looks at you, all soft and sweet, just for him.

"Need the ache to go away, don't you, pretty?" He mumbles against your mouth, not applying pressure but just letting your lips rest against each other.

"Yes, please, Gukkie." You respond, voice soft as you stare at his lips patiently, waiting for him to give them to you.

"Good manners, baby," he praises delicately before leaning forward and giving you a slow, gentle kiss. You melt into him, the sound of his pleased sigh making your muscles all mushy.

Jungkook pulls back and then presses three quick, rapid kisses against your lips, making you giggle. That seemed to be his goal when the side of his mouth curved upwards at your laugh as he lifted himself off your frame.

He kicks off his sweatpants the rest of the way, and they fall to the floor next to your bed, but he tucks his still painfully hard cock back into his black briefs to hold it for the time being.

Jungkook looks down at his effortlessly beautiful best friend, lying prettily on her bed, hair sprawled out against the pillow while she waits for him to take her any way he desires. Teenage him would be freaking the fuck out if he could see him right now.

His gaze drags slowly up your body, a lingering moment spent on the meat of your thighs, and he swallows before finally locking onto the space between.

You try to will yourself to be patient despite the aching throb coming from your heat, but your leg betrays you and twitches slightly. Jungkook catches the movement instantly.

"Gonna flip you on your tummy, okay baby?" he says distractedly, eyes never straying from the wet patch on your shorts.

"Oka—"

You don't get to finish your sentence before his hands are on your hips and he flips you as gently as a horny lacrosse captain can. A surprised squeak slips out when your face hits the mattress, and you both giggle, Jungkook leaning down to kiss your shoulder with a soft, sorry pretty.

Jungkook has always been a tits guy. Tried and true. It may have stemmed from growing up with a best friend that he was hopelessly in love with who happened to develop the greatest rack he'd ever seen in his life... But right now, as Jungkook stares at your soft, round asscheeks stuffed into those little cotton sleep shorts, he's beginning to rethink his entire life choices.

He kneels at the edge of the bed, using your ankle to gently pull you further toward him. You slide down the bed without any complaints, trying not to arch your back so you can be even closer to him.

Jungkook continues his ministrations on your curves before trailing up to the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them done, your panties coming with them, and he groans at the way the flesh ripples when released from the fabric. He grabs a greedy handful of each cheek with his big hands and gives them a rough squeeze, relishing in the way you push back into his grip.

"So pretty, my baby," he hums, continuing to knead the flesh as he dips to pepper kisses all over the flushed skin.

You whine, your hips grinding into the bed in an attempt to put some pressure on your ignored clit. He notices your movements and presses one last kiss to your right asscheek before sitting back and pulling your bottoms off fully. They fall into a pile next to his discarded sweatpants, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the freedom from the confines.

When one of Jungkook's hands slips between your belly and the mattress, you can't stop the noise of satisfaction that leaves you when he gently ushers you to your hands and knees. You quickly tug your top the rest of the way off, slinking it over your head and handing it back blindly to Jungkook. He takes it from you instantly, chucking it at the growing pile of clothes next to him.

On instinct, you fall to your forearms, nipples rubbing against your duvet as you arch your back, biting your lip when even the warm air of your bedroom feels cool against your burning cunt.

"Fucking hell..." Jungkook chokes out, the sight of your soaked pussy spread and bearing for him, making his mouth water.

"Ah-fuck!" A high-pitched squeal rips from your throat when he leans down and delivers a long, broad lick up your slit.

He lets out a loud moan into your pussy when you jerk back into him at the feeling. You're so fucking wet from being so worked up, and his cock throbs against his briefs at the taste of your juices leaking onto his tongue. Jungkook's hands slide to the front of your thighs to steady you as he loses himself, his tongue wrapping your clit, sucking the hardening nub messily into his mouth. "Mmmmfh," he sighs contently like he was taking a sip of a well-made café latte instead of feasting on your cunt like a madman.

When he releases your clit, dragging the flat of his tongue from the button all the way to your opening, your knees buckle. "Yes, Gukkie, fuckk yes!" You cry, writhing against his sinful tongue.

Jungkook almost purrs in delight, lapping up the slick between your folds, trying to get every last drop. His tongue finds its way to the entrance of your core, teasingly dipping in and out once, twice, before he loses control and thrusts it as far as it can go. "Uhhh-shhhittt," your head falls forward with a shuddery gasp, your walls clenching around his tongue, pulling a low groan from him.

Jungkook's hands slide up from your thighs to rest on your asscheeks, and before you can process the realization that he hasn't used his fingers on you yet, he's gripping the flesh and pulling you harshly into his face. "Uh!" You moan, your ass flush against his face as he buries himself, nose and tongue, right into your cunt.

"Hhhhhhhhhh," you're not even saying words anymore, just useless, incoherent noises spluttering from your lips as you quiver, grinding your pussy back into his face.

He tries not to focus on your other hole, the tight little puckered fucking one that's basically blinking at him. Taunting him. He closes his eyes as he focuses on losing himself in your pussy. Another day, he thinks.

Jungkook's mouth is covered in your juice, his head shaking from side to side as he drags his tongue furiously around your cunt. The filthy sound of your sopping pussy getting devoured by his tongue resounds around your bedroom, Jungkook's hips rutting into the edge of your bed needily.

"Yes, Gukkie, yes!!! So good babyyyy--ohhh fuckkkk!" You scream, your nails digging into the mattress as you grind your pussy back into his face.

Jungkook's eyes roll back, his moans getting swallowed by your slick folds. Fuck oxygen, he hopes he passes out.

He takes one of the hands resting on your ass and brings a finger to your leaky entrance. He pulls away for a millisecond to suck in a breath before dropping down instantly and enveloping your clit with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth. And with that, he finally pushes his middle finger into your hole.

You try to moan, but with the pressure on your clit and the sensation of finally being filled, the only sound that escapes is a strangled gasp. He lets your clit slip out of his mouth before his tongue quickly darts out to flick against it vigorously, his finger delving deeper into your hole with every jab of his tongue.

Your body shudders as he expertly works his tongue and finger in tandem, each movement driving you closer to the edge. "G-Gukkie, I'm so fucking close," you whimper, your thighs trembling around his head.

Jungkook's free hand tightens on your ass, pulling you even closer as he tries to add a second finger, his eyebrows furrowing at the resistance. "Relax baby, gotta let Gukkie in." He gives a particularly hard tongue of your clit, a pleased hum declared into your pussy when he feels your walls loosen to let his other slip in.

His tongue flicks faster, more determined, as he feels your walls flutter around his digits. He pulls back a hair to mumble against your clit, "You can let go now, my baby. I've got you."

With a harsh flick of his tongue and a curl of his fingers, you tense up. "Oh my fuck, Gukkie, yes!" You cry out, your body convulsing as he pounds against your g-spot with his thick fingers. Your eyes roll back, a final scream ripping from your throat as you shatter, your orgasm ripping you apart from the inside out.

Jungkook doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers relentless as they pull every last drop of pleasure from your shaky core. The hand of his that is still gripping your ass slips up to gently rub against your back when you collapse into the mattress.

Tears well in your eyes as Jungkook delivers a final drag of his tongue from your bud to your hole, swallowing every last drop of juice leaking from your cunt. He withdraws his fingers carefully, replacing them with soft, soothing strokes along your inner thighs.

It takes you a solid minute to come down from your high, your limbs still tingling from the hardest orgasm you've had in, well, ever. Jungkook continues his soft strokes against your thighs while you catch your breath, his head spinning and mouth still coated in your remnants.

"I get it now." Your voice is muffled by the comforter you face planted into, and you currently don't have the strength to get up.

"Hm?" Jungkook hums amusedly, his hand still tracing gently over your skin.

"Why girls always want your dick so bad. I get it now. If your tongue is that good, fucking hell..."

Jungkook snorts, leaning down to press a kiss on your lower back before flopping down to lay next to you. You finally lift your head from the blanket to look at your best friend, who's already smiling down at you, his tattooed arm tucked behind his head while he rests against the headboard.

His brow raises when you giggle suddenly and sit up. He doesn't have time to admire your bare tits almost in his face when your hand lifts up to his mouth. You're still giggling as you wipe at the shiny substance that coats his lips. A shocked gasp leaves Jungkook's lips, and he grabs your hand in a flash, his eyes holding clouds of pure betrayal.

"Why would you do that?" He's genuinely upset!

It's your turn to snort this time, lifting a leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "I'm sorry, Gukkie." You entertain him with an amused eye roll, leaning in to plant a sweet kiss against his lips.

Jungkook dissolves into the kiss, about to deepen it when you pull away. His eyes snap open, ready to protest, when suddenly your tongue flicks out, dragging flat across his lips to gather your slick that coats his mouth.

"Mm," you hum, making sure to get every bit around the corner of his lips and even the speck of gloss you see on the tip of his nose.

Jungkook is frozen. His cock thrashes against his briefs as he stares at you in complete awe, your tongue sliding back into your mouth to swallow the juices—your juices—that you just lapped up from his fucking lips.

Your lip darts between your teeth as you try not to laugh at his darkened expression. Looking down at the source of the throbbing against your bare pussy, you let out a teasing coo. "That looks really sore, Gukkie..."

Jungkook swallows. He needs to calm down or he's going to pin you into the mattress and fuck you open, raw.

"It is." He manages to choke out.

You pout, lifting your gaze back to him. "Don't want you to be sore."

"You don't?" He returns softly, dragging his hand over your bare thigh.

You shake your head so cutely that he almost shivers. You lean closer, gaze flickering from his pretty nose and then back to his eyes. "I could make the pain go away if you want..."

"Yeah? You wanna make Gukkie feel better, pretty?"

You nod, the hazy feeling taking over again as he runs his hands gently up your hips, resting gently on the swell of your ass.

You lift off him slightly, his hands moving with you as they're glued to your bum. Jungkook bites his lip at the wet patch you left on his boxers, and he thanks God he did because it muffles the pitchy groan that escapes him when your hand slithers beneath his waistband.

His eyes flutter shut when you give his painfully red cock a few gentle strokes, his head dropping back to hit the headboard.

"Baby," you giggle, "you're so fucking hard."

He lifts his head to give you a deadpanned fucking obviously look, and you just snicker, leaning forward to kiss his pouty lips.

"Oh no. Fuck."

He jerks forward slightly at your serious tone, his hands moving from your butt to cup the one of yours that froze around his dick worriedly. "Huh? What's wrong?"

Your eyes soften as you don't respond verbally, a devastated look clouding your gaze. He sits up seriously now. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I don't have any condoms." Your brows are pulled together so tightly, which Jungkook still doesn't like, but he releases a breath at your words.

"Fuck, Y/N. Don't do that. You scared me, I thought you were hurt or something." His head falls back to rest against your headboard in relief instead of pleasure this time.

You frown. "Why aren't you upset? Oh, did you bring some?" Jungkook almost laughs at the thought, lifting his head to watch as you release his dick to glance behind you at his overnight bag.

"What-no, baby. Of course I didn't bring condoms. This is probably the last thing I ever expected to happen."

Your pout is in full swing now, turning back to Jungkook with a very unhappy look. He just shakes his head at your pretty face, planting his hands on the mattress beside him and pushing up to press your lips to his.

When you pull away, Jungkook is about to ask if you want to grind on him over his briefs because he would be finished in approximately thirty seconds—

"I'm on the pill." You say softly.

He swallows. "I know."

"Do you-are you clean?"

"Yeah," he chokes out, "haven't ever not used a condom. And tested after that scare the other week with...uh..."

"Did you really forget her name?" You squint, shaking your head incredulously at his genuine look of confusion.

"I-uh, yeah I don't know... All I remember is that it kinda burned when I peed—"

You roll your eyes. "Her name," you press a quick kiss to his lips, "was Yejin."

"Ohh, yeah—"

"You also did that stupid 10-packet spicy ramen challenge that day." Another quick kiss to his lips.

"Hey, that was for a fundraiser—"

"And I'm clean... Tested with Mingyu."

"Oh." Jungkook's heartbeat picks up. Not at the Mingyu part, okay maybe a little, but mostly at the fact that you're hinting at him taking you fucking raw right now.

Your lips purse, his response suddenly making you feel stupid for asking. Jungkook picks up on the look instantly, his hands cradling your face when you try to look away.

"Baby," you're about to apologize when he continues, "it's your choice. I'd fuck you wrapped in a garbage bag if you asked me to."

Your lips wiggle as you try not to smile, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes. "You're really cute, Gukkie."

"Oh?" He hums, "I thought I was a pussy eating God... but cute works too I guess."

You snicker, falling into his lips and he swallows your soft giggles with his tongue. "So humble," you whisper against his lips when you break away.

Jungkook's about to tease further, but you don't give him the chance, your hand slipping back down to wrap around his shaft. A soft shudder leaves him, his hands falling from your face to grip your ass again, squeezing it firmly.

You're still a bit sensitive, but nothing you can't handle, and you shift forward a little so the lips of your pussy press against his length.

"Oh-fuck." He moans at the feeling of a bare pussy on his cock. And it's your pussy. Holy fuck.

You place both your hands on his thick thighs, leaning back to get the right angle before you slide your hips up and down, dragging his length through your wet slit. Jungkook's hands sprawl over your back when you lean back, cradling you almost, and he keens at the sloppy, squishy sounds that fill the room.

Your clit is alive again, thumping against his cock every time it drags through your lips, and you heave out a strained moan at the fresh wave of arousal that washes over you.

Your hand pushes against Jungkook's chest gently as you sit up, determined. He lets himself fall back against the headboard, face flushed, neck vein visible, while he watches intently. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his thighs as you lean forward, your hand reaching behind you blindly to grip his shaft before you line it up with your entrance.

Your brows furrow, and you bite your bottom lip hard as you try to press the bulbous head in. Your opening does its best to stretch around the intruder and you let out a relieved whine when it finally gets sucked in.

"Fuck." Jungkook whimpers, his head slamming back hard against the headboard. Your walls burn as you struggle to accommodate his huge length, and he can fucking feel it.

You let the tingles flooding up your spine settle for a second. Then, you take a big breath, and drop.

"Mother fuckkkkk." Jungkook groans, his hands squeezing your ass tightly in shock as you take his entire length in one go.

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back in pleasure as you bask in the feeling for a moment. Every inch of you is filled with his thick girth. You've never felt so full and so fucking good.

You're so wet. So warm. So tight. Jungkook is grateful for the pause in your movements because he thinks he actually would've fucking come if you—

Your hips lift up until all that's remaining in you is his fat cockhead before you sink back down and take it all in one swoop.

Lewd noises spew from his lips as he forces his eyes to stay open, watching you swallow his cock over and over and over.

"So fucking good at that, baby, shit..." Jungkook grunts.

Your nails dig into his thighs at the praise, your head lifting back up to look at him as you increase your pace.

You begin to move faster, riding him with an increasing intensity that makes the bed creak beneath you. The friction and fullness send waves of pleasure through your body, making you gasp and moan. Your hands find his shoulders, using them as leverage as you bounce on his length harder.

"Godssooo fucking good," you pant, your voice a breathless slur. "So deep, Gukkie. C-can feel it in my tummy."

Jungkook's hands slide up your back with a growl, pulling you closer until your chests are pressed together. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as the rhythm of your hips grows more frantic. The slick sounds of your bodies slamming together fills the room, enveloping you both in desire.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. "Taking it so good, my baby," he worships against your collarbone. "So fucking perfect."

The praise spurs you on, your movements becoming pathetically desperate as you chase your release. You can feel the burning tension coiling in your core, ready to snap, when suddenly his feet move to plant themselves into your mattress and he begins to thrust up into you.

"Oh fuck yes, fuck!" You gasp, your knees trembling as he plows relentlessly into you from below.

"Shittttt," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you up and down on his cock, balls slapping against your ass as he pistons furiously into your pussy. "So good at riding cock, baby, taking it all like a proper fucking slut."

You cry loudly at his words, your nails digging into his shoulder slightly as you writhe against his thrusts. "It's the pilates," you choke out, "developed good core strength. Great for riding dick."

Jungkook lets out a loud laugh, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck while his thrusts get even deeper. He feels your walls tighten around him sorely, and he heaves a shaky breath before slipping a tattoed hand between you two, thumb attaching to your clit. Your fucked-out uh-uh-uh’s echoes in his ears with every plunge of his cock, fueling him to go harder.

The sloppy bud twitches under his touch, his thumb slipping from how soaked you are, but he doesn't back down. He chases the hard nub and flicks it in time with his thrusts, cock jittering as you let out your loudest moan of the night.

"I'm gonna come, Gukkie. I-I'm gonna fucking come! Oh my goddddd!" you're bouncing on him wildly, your walls clenching furiously with no pattern, completely run with pleasure that you can't control it.

"Come on, baby," he whines through a thrust, his balls squeezing as you get impossibly tighter, begging to let them release their fluids, "Ohh-h-ffuck, can I come too, baby? Can I come in you? Oh fuck, fuck."

You don't even get to answer as you completely shatter, your orgasm taking control over your whole body that you swear you see the light. You cry out his name as best you can, your body convulsing, shaking around his length.

You can't possibly speak as you collapse against his chest but as you fall, you see the pained look in his eyes as he tries not to come. You want it so bad. More than you've ever wanted anything in your life. Before you know what you're doing, your thighs tighten around his legs, your mouth moves to the nape of his neck, and you bite. Hard.

Jungkook spasms, the deepest growl of a moan rips through his throat as he throws his head back and cums, deep and hot, right into your cunt. You whimper around the chunk of flesh captured between your teeth, his thick load tickling your walls as it fills your hole.

You feel complete.

Jungkook's hands gently stroke your back, grounding you as you come down from your high. Nothing but the sound of both your heavy breathing fills your ears before Jungkook breaks the silence. "You did so well, baby."

Your tongue laps and licks softly at the skin of his neck to soothe the subtle teeth marks you left, and he lets out a pleased noise through a shiver. Your head lifts to look into his eyes, a hazy smile spreading across your face when you take in his blissed-out features. "I didn't know sex could feel like that."

Jungkook's eyes flutter open at your words, his stomach clenching in pure joy that his softening cock still tucked up inside of you even lets out a shudder. "Yeah?" He asks softly, a hand lifting to tuck some of your messy hair behind your ear.

"Yeah," you nod with a flutter of your eyes at his gentle touches, "the fact it was you was probably the main factor," you mumble dreamily against his neck when you rest your head on his shoulder, "but that was still the best dick I've ever had."

His heart swells infinitely. You were by far the best pussy he's ever had, but he didn’t think you would share such a thought. He should've known by now that if you are many things, predictable is not one of them.

You wrap your legs around his waist, nuzzling into his neck happily as his cock stays plugged inside of you, keeping his load intact and secure.

Jungkook's arms slink under your arms gently so he can pull you even closer, wrapping you around his chest (and his length) like a koala.

"This has been the greatest night of my entire life, Y/N." He whispers honestly against your cheek before pressing a soft kiss into the skin. "Thank you."

You hum contently, tilting your head up slightly to look at him with a pretty smile. "I love you, Gukkie."

"I love you, pretty." He replies, peppering your lips with another three quick kisses, smiling in satisfaction when another you give him another giggle.

You let the comfortable silence wrap you for a moment before breaking it. "Do we have any pasta left from dinner?"

The mention of dinner makes him think for a moment. He cooked pasta for the two of you, which you ate not long before coming into your room. You ate before sex. And you don’t look like you feel sick.

He gazes down at you, his smile broadening, heart fluttering. "'Course, I made heaps. Are you hungry?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon then," he says, giving your bum a gentle pat, ready to lift you off him and clean you up before feeding you.

"'nna minute..." You mumble sleepily against his neck, and he stops his movements, hands settling back to rub soothing strokes on your bum.

"You want me to carry you, don’t you?" he teases, suppressing a smirk as he feels you clench around him absentmindedly at him reading your thoughts.

"Noo...." your voice trails off, not even trying to conceal your lie. Jungkook chuckles softly, feeling your smile against his skin.

He makes sure he has a tight grip on you, and you him, before he carefully lifts both of you from the bed. He leads you into your ensuite, his long arm reaching out to snatch some toilet paper and a clean hand towel from your shelf as he gently places you on the sink counter.

Jungkook captures the liquid that seeps from your core with the paper as he slowly withdraws. He gives you a chuckly sorry when you wince a little, the thick head of his cock tugging at your walls as he retreats. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips to distract you and slips out with a final tug.

After discarding the used toilet paper, he dampens the towel with warm water and tenderly runs it over your core gently, pulling a pleased sigh from your lips.

Watching your best friend in awe through half-lidded eyes, he makes sure to thoroughly clean up the mess on and in your pussy before he half-heartedly uses the towel to wipe at his wet length.

He chucks the rag into the laundry hamper on the other side of the large bathroom. It lands directly in the basket from his athletic skills, and he turns to you with a cocky smirk.

You shake your head in amusement, "you're a loser."

"Don't talk to me like that, gonna get me hard again."

Your eyes widen in mock shock, before you giggle into his chest. "Knew you'd be into shit like degradation... Just had this feeling."

"Only with you though." It's cliché, but he means it.

You lift your head from his chest. "Only for me, huh?"

Jungkook nods, still standing between your legs as you look up at him from your bathroom counter. His gaze turns a little more serious. "Only yours."

Your head tilts as you blink up at the most gorgeous boy you've ever seen in your life. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jungkook responds instantly and certainly. His thumbs tremble nervously against your thighs while he waits for your response, and they pull to a halt when you lean up to rest your mouth against his.

"Good," you murmur softly against his pouty lips, "because I'm all fucking yours."

END.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

thank you so much for reading. let me know what you think? love you <3

[sundrop-writes]

Black Suit

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader

Summary:

After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong.

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 2,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is part of the BAU; very minimal mentions of typical CM themes (murder/crime scenes/etc.) - the primary focus of this fic is smut; the reader character has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns;the reader and Emily are in an ongoing dom/sub relationship - this includes the background element of safewords (that are not used) and pre-discussed kink negotiation that doesn’t happen during this fic; Emily is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader kneels for Emily; mentions of subspace (but it’s not directly called that in the fic); the reader wears a collar (no petplay, just as a symbol of her submission to Emily); Emily’s strap-on is referred to as ‘her cock’ or 'her dick’; a very light hit to the face that could barely be considered a slap (not in the name of pain kink, in the name of dominance); hair pulling (reader receiving); strap-on blowjob (the reader sucks it); Emily is fully clothed and the reader is naked; slight cockwarming; strap-on sex - the reader rides Emily’s strap; Emily calls the reader 'babydoll’, 'doll’, 'greedy slut’, 'good girl’, 'pathetic slut’, 'stupid slut’; Mommy kink - Emily refers to herself as Mommy and the reader calls her that; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Emily’s fingers); Emily is generally condescending toward the reader in this, maybe it strays into degradation kink or humiliation kink; verbal degradation; mentions of pulling on the collar - but not quite choking? and I believe that is it.

A/N: This cover is not my favourite - I love the pictures of Emily but I’m not a fan of how dark the background is on the right. This whole fic was inspired by the picture on the left - her sitting in the most beautifully gay way, so I absolutely had to include it in the fic cover. In general, I also just go nuts whenever she wears a pantsuit on screen. It makes me feral. So this was partially inspired by that.

...

“Come on. Come to Mommy.” 

Emily had a unique talent for knowing exactly what you needed at any given time. Whether it was a cup of coffee perfectly timed with your three am yawn on an all-nighter case, or her packing a throw-blanket in her go-bag so that you could have a nap on the jet - she was so in tuned with you that she seemed to know exactly what you needed, even before you did. 

Today - after a particularly hard, long haul case - what you needed was to be mindless. The stress of the victims, the haunting glow of their eyes in the crime scene photos, it was weighing on you. You needed to be her perfect, sweet toy. And she knew that the minute that the two of you got in the door. 

She had mumbled in your ear, telling you to strip as she carried both of your bags toward the bedroom. It was a quiet, but firm order that had you shivering with anticipation seconds. Already, you felt your mind melting out of your ears as you watched the wave of her black hair disappear down the hallway. 

Feeling calmed by the acts, you did as you were told. 

You stripped completely naked, and then you knelt down on the corner of the living room rug, your hands lightly placed on your thighs, your eyes completely on the floor with your head slightly bowed. It was a submissive position that Emily loved to see you in, patiently waiting like an obedient pet for her. 

Just the thought that doing this would please her already had you melting into that soft, comfortable headspace. 

It was a simple routine that already had your stressed insides melting into calmness as you did nothing but sit there holding the position, waiting for her. You listened to the sound of her heeled shoes quietly clacking across the floor, and took great interest in the fact that she hadn’t yet taken them off. 

While you held the position, not looking up, you listened carefully as she came into the room. Then, quite expectedly, she reached down and wrapped the cool leather of your collar around your neck. Being as obedient as possible, you stayed entirely still while she did it, feeling tingles of satisfaction flow through you as the collar settled onto your neck. 

This simple act finished the process of melting your brain completely, and now, you could think of nothing but Emily - nothing but Mommy, how badly you needed her. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shameful at the fact that there was a sticky wetness between your legs and she hadn’t even touched you yet. She had trained you well enough that just these simple acts, just the feeling of your collar around your neck made you so desperate for her touch. 

Emily then walked over to the large armchair that she had in the corner of the room. It was something she had there for reading books or enjoying TV (during the little time off between cases that the two of you had). 

Mostly, she had the elegant leather chair for moments like this. 

“Come on. Come to Mommy.” 

It was only when she spoke the words that you had your implicit permission to finally look up at her. 

She sat in the chair with her legs spread, a mighty presence in the room with her suit still on. The only difference you noticed from how she had looked for most of the day was a distinct bulge around the zipper of her pants. The idea that perhaps she had taken off her pants, put on her cock, and redressed just to appear this put together for you… it was thrilling. 

She had been paying attention when you said you liked the way she looked in the suit. It was meant to be a perfectly innocent comment when you saw the way she was dressed for the day. A simple ‘you look nice today, Em’. But she saw right through you - the lustful spark in your eye, the way you bit your lip. She knew all of your tells too well, and she knew exactly what to do with the information. Something she had been saving until now. 

You couldn’t help but to savor the pure air of dominance coming off her with the black blazer and black dress pants draped over her, her black heeled boots still on. Her black button up blouse was still on, but she had a few more of the buttons undone than before. 

This showcased the golden key necklace that sat between her breasts. It was something that you had a matching lock necklace of, but you had taken it off and tucked it away with your clothing knowing that it was going to be exchanged for your collar because you were now in the privacy of your home. 

The necklace was something you had lovingly gifted her, showing that you truly belonged to her in every way and absolutely loved it. 

“Fucking. Crawl.” 

Emily ground out the words harshly when you didn’t move fast enough for her liking. 

You had become so distracted by her gorgeous appearance, but you rushed to meet the demand when her words hit your ears. 

The sound of her voice caused goosebumps all over your skin as you were distinctly reminded of who was in charge. Reminded of why you needed her - because you went so braindead when you became lustful. You needed her to guide you in order to get what you truly wanted. 

You crawled to her, making your way to her on your hands and knees. In a very rehearsed part of the ritual, you placed your head on her thigh, looking up the length of her torso at her. You heavily enjoyed how much she towered over you while you knelt at her feet. She gently combed her fingers through your hair while she admired how sweet and submissive you looked. 

“What do you need, babydoll?” Emily asked, continuing with that firm but quiet tone that you loved so much. Something that showed her power with an epic subtlety. 

You eased your head forward until you were nuzzling at the bulge that was threatening to burst her zipper. You felt nothing but firm silicone under your nose, which caused excitement to pulse through you. 

“You.” You told her, your voice slightly breathless already. “Just need you, Mommy.” 

You looked up at her with your best pleading doe eyes, knowing that she would give you exactly what you needed without you even having to voice it. She knew you too well. And she always knew what you needed before you even did. 

Emily skimmed her knuckles along your cheek, gently prodding her thumb between your lips. In the most natural fashion, you began sucking on the digit, enjoying the feeling as she forcefully pressed it onto your tongue. 

Once again, she easily knew what you needed. 

“Such a pretty doll for me.” She hummed, clearly enjoying the sight of you on your knees for her. 

You hummed happily around her finger at the comment, and she smirked. 

“Get my cock out for me, doll.” She ordered, her beautifully calm voice making the words sound like a song. 

She gently pulled back her thumb, causing a wet smack as it suctioned from your lips and she ran the tip of it along your bottom lip. Knowing that you were likely foggy, already mushy between the ears, she gave you a light tap on the cheek with her open palm to prompt you into following her instructions. 

You grinned at this, letting out a moan as a pleasant warmth spread through you. 

You loved it when she took control over you. 

You reached up and popped the button on her pants, and the zipper practically burst open with the force of her stiff silicone cock behind it. You helped get it out nicely, almost drooling at the sight before you - her black pants stretched over her thighs where they were spread wide to accommodate you, her bright red, veined strap-on sticked out from the fly of those pants with just a bit of her dark pubic hair visible above the strap’s harness. It was so fucking beautiful that you could have cried. 

In fact, you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes as Emily reached down and forcefully grabbed the back of your hair, guiding your head toward her dick. 

You hadn’t even realized that your mouth was open wide with your tongue lulled out, needy and panting like a dog - not until she slid her cock so perfectly into the opening. She easily stuffed one of your needy holes and made the other throb almost painfully, making you wish there were two of her so that you could be filled from both ends at the same time. 

“Such a greedy slut.” Emily chuckled. “There ya go, suck Mommy’s cock.” 

You moaned gratefully around her cock as the thickness of it stretched your jaw open and forced your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth. Your hands naturally fell to sit on her thighs, a lovely heat on her flesh through the material of her suit. She couldn’t help but to sit back and admire you, effortlessly guiding your head up and down on her dick. You were so pliant at this point, almost ragdoll-like, your muscles like clay that needed to be shaped by her touch. 

“You gonna warm up Mommy’s cock?” Emily posed, her sweet, soothing voice causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You felt wetness smearing against your inner thighs and you definitely weren’t surprised. 

You moaned in affirmation of this, loving the feeling of your lips becoming slightly swollen and sore as she fucked your face on her dick. 

“There ya go. Good girl.” She cooed. “Need it nice and wet so you can sit on it, babydoll.” 

You moaned even louder at this, and Emily couldn’t resist any longer. 

She pulled you up, loving the way your mouth hung slack, showing the messy trail of spit from your lips to where it glistened all over her cock. 

She didn’t waste any time then. 

She quickly got you up into her lap, having you straddle her with your knees over her thighs. 

You were impressed by the fact that her suit was somehow almost perfectly pristine - her pants were barely wrinkled and her upper half didn’t look touched at all. It was something that turned you on to no end, the visual of her in that powerful suit jacket as you sat astride her. 

(This would definitely be something you thought about every single time you saw her in a suit on the job from now on.) 

She began teasing the stiff cockhead along your dripping folds - apparently all it took was a few moments of her teasing, having your mouth filled and the switch of her dominant persona electrifying the air to flood your pussy. She then used a bruising grip on your hips to pull you down onto the hard length of her cock, perfectly impaling you with it. 

You let out a harsh whimper at the feeling of being filled up by her, and Emily smirked at you in a perfectly devilish way. She felt so whole, having you as a perfect naked prize in her lap. She didn’t know how anyone else in the world could be satisfied if they couldn’t have you. (But she also knew that if anyone else tried to touch you, she would have to break their fingers at the very least.) 

You sat there for a moment, waiting for her to fuck her hips up into you - waiting for her to fuck you senseless in that perfect way that she always did. After sitting there for a moment and simply having that hardness filling you up, your pussy leaking freely around the girth of her cock (surely smearing your wetness all over the seam of her pants where her cock was poking out through) - you pouted loudly and gently bucked into her. 

Emily’s smirk only widened, and she looked ever more like the Cheshire cat. Greedy and satisfied as she leaned back in her chair, relaxing into a comfortable stance with her elbows casually resting on the large arms of the chair. She poised the nail of her first finger up to her lips, holding it tentatively between her teeth as she continued to look at you expectantly. 

“Oh, did you want my help?” She asked, pretending to be completely oblivious of your needs. 

“Yes.” You moaned out. 

Your whole body unconsciously flinched toward her, causing you to move only slightly on her cock, a deeply unfulfilling feeling. It was a harshly nagging fullness with no pay off that begged for more. 

“Yes, please, Mommy!” You added on desperately, tears clutching at the corners of your eyes. 

“Do it yourself.” She told you, her tone entirely domineering but not lifting a single decibel higher than it had to. 

She commanded the attention of your entire body and soul with such simple movements, such a calm voice. It was something that had you clenching around her fake cock and moaning deep inside your chest. 

Emily grinned at you and continued on. 

“Come on, babydoll.” She told you sweetly. “If you need it so badly, you’ll fuck yourself on my cock like a good girl.” 

Of course, you couldn’t resist such gentle dominance. You couldn’t go against her orders. 

You reached your hands out and with a subtle nod from her, you knew it was okay to grip onto the lapels of her suit jacket for support. Then, with your knees planted on either side of her thighs in the chair, you began to fuck yourself on her cock. 

After the exhaustion of the day, your body wasn’t prepared for the effort. Your hips soon started shaking and Emily watched in utter amusement as you started whining bitterly after only fucking yourself on her cock half a dozen times. She held back a delighted giggle, not wanting to mock you quite yet. She wanted to see how far you could get. 

You couldn’t keep the pace - if you were honest with yourself, you had barely even started to reach your desired pace from a lazy crawl. The more you felt jolts of pain shooting through your muscles, pure burning tiredness, the more your sounds turned into petulant whines and the tighter you gripped onto Emily’s suit jacket (wrinkling it quite a bit now). 

When you were finally reduced down to mildly humping yourself against her, grinding your hips against hers in slow, lazy strokes, Emily let out a quiet chuckle - a mocking sound that cut right through you (causing your gut to twist with pleasure). 

“You having some trouble there, doll?” Emily asked, once again putting on a tone that was playfully ignorant toward your obvious problems. 

“I - I can’t do it.” You whined out, feeling tears of frustration bubbling up in your throat. “Mommy, help me.” 

“Oh, you can’t do it?” She cooed, clearly teasing you now. “You need Mommy’s help?” 

You nodded furiously at this. 

She leaned forward and hooked a finger into your collar, yanking on it suddenly in a way that made you moan as your torso was forced to collide with hers and the thickness of her cock jostled inside of you. 

“Mommy-!” You gasped, panting against her chin now as she held you there, trapped you in tight proximity to her. 

She didn’t let you get any more words out. 

“You’re such a pathetic slut.” She scolded you harshly. 

You moaned out loudly as she held you close, keeping that one hand with a finger tucked into your collar, holding you tight to her in a way that caused an even, grounding pressure across your neck. She used the other to dig her nails into the meat of your hip, partially fucking you up and down on her cock as she words her hips into you from below. 

With her feet planted firmly on the ground, she had the perfect angle to fuck your needy pussy. 

In a moment, she had built up a harsh, but slow pace that had you aching and moaning for more. She forced you to stare her in the eyes the whole time, keeping her burning charcoal gaze on yours as she held you there, the tightness of the leather around your neck and the stiffness of her length pushing up inside of you reminding you exactly where you belonged. 

“You can’t even fuck yourself on Mommy’s cock, huh?” 

She teased, her voice becomingly slightly breathless from her efforts. It was just another thing that made you wetter - hearing her sex-worn voice, still somehow composed. 

“You need me to do everything for you, don’t you, babydoll? Need me to make all your decisions for you. Need me to do all the thinking so that your dumb little brain doesn’t even have to try.” 

Her words had your pussy fluttering around her cock, trying to milk an orgasm out of the plastic because your body needed her so badly. But that was one of the best parts - because she couldn’t feel her cock, she could fuck you for hours without the curse of overstimulation that you felt. Just another reason that she could be so composed while you fell apart. 

“Yes!” You moaned out. “Yes, Mommy!” 

“Stupid slut.” She spat the words against your lips, causing you to moan out in an utterly whorish way as she fucked into you harder. “But you love it, don’t you? You love being Mommy’s dumb slut. You love Mommy filling up your needy holes, don’t you?” 

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoy it, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you want to see more things that I have written about Emily, or if you enjoy my style of writing in general, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or my other Masterlists.

[stephstars08]

Hidden Feelings

Jack Champion x Actress!Reader

Warnings: Some Angst but mostly Fluff, Insecurities, One year age gap (Reader is the same age as Bailey), and Rumors.

Summery: Y/N L/N and Jack Champion are apart of the young cast for the long waited Avatar sequel, Avatar The Way Of Water. Jack has had feelings for Y/N since the day he met her of set while Y/N just started having feelings for Jack when the press tour began. Their co-stars Jamie, Bailey, and Trinity know about their co-stars feelings for one another but both of them are too shy and scared to admit it to each other since both have reasons why they are keeping those feelings to themselves. Will Y/N and Jack ignore those worries and admit their feelings or will they stay hidden?

Word Count: 3,422

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I hope you all are having a good Friday so far! I am so happy I am finally able to release something to you all since I am so behind on my writing due to many reasons that I am not going to get into. I am almost done writing a mini Ethan Landry series so I will be typing that up soon! I hope you all enjoy this one shot and I will hopefully be able to be more active on here while you all wait on my next series! I hope you all have a wonderful and day and wonderful weekend! Love you all!

Y/N has just arrived at the studio where she is doing interviews with her co-stars for the new movie Avatar: The Way of Water. Y/N plays a Na’vi who belongs to the Metkayina which is an oceanic group of Na’vi. This isn’t Y/N’s first movie role since she’s been acting since she was eight years old but this is her biggest role so I guess you can say that this is her big break.

Y/N had just got her make up done and was following a director down the hallway to one of the lounge rooms. “Here you go, Ms. L/N.” The director said, opening the door for her. When Y/N walked in she only saw her one co-star Jamie. “You can stay in here with Mr. Flatters and we will let you both know when it’s both of yours turn for the interview.” The director told her with a kind smile. “Thank you.” Y/N said returning the kind smile. “You’re welcome.” The director said and walked out of the room closing the door behind them.

Jamie was doing something on his phone as he sat down on one of the couches. “Well, it’s about time you showed up.” Jamie said to her in a teasing tone as he looked up at her from his phone. “Oh, shut it! For once you aren’t the last one here.” Y/N told him walking over to one of the chairs and took a seat.

This is the fourth day of interviews. Tomorrow is the last day of interviews since Saturday night is the world premiere for the movie. There are multiple premieres since this is a long waiting sequel to one of the best movies ever made.

“Where is everyone else?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone referring to their other young co-stars. “Jack and the girls are already on set doing their interview.” Jamie answered, putting his phone into his pocket. Since Y/N’s character and Jamie’s character are love interests they are partners for interviews while Jack is partnered with Bailey and Trinity. Y/N just gave him a nod.

“Were you worried about your boyfriend?” Jamie asked her as his lips curved into a teasing grin. “Jamie!” Y/N hissed shooting a glare towards him. Y/N has the biggest crush on her other male co-star and best friend Jack who plays Spider. The young cast members basically grew up together on the set and Y/N has a strong bond with everyone including Jack. She didn’t start to have feelings for the brunette curly haired boy until they started doing the press tour for the movie. They have been spending so much time together that she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be more than friends with Jack. The only person that she has told is Jamie since he figured it out himself, but he did blab the secret crush out to Bailey and Trinity since he couldn’t resist plus Trinity pulled it out of him.

“What the hell is up with you today? Is it annoy Y/N Day or something?” Y/N asked him in annoyance. Yes, Jamie loves to pick on her, but he usually isn’t this annoying. It may be strange since they play love interest on screen but her and Jamie have a brother and sister bond. Jamie sees her as a little sister, and she sees him as a big brother. “No.” Jamie said as he shook his head. “But it is convince Y/N to tell Jack her feelings day.” Jamie added which made her roll her eyes at him. She should’ve known that was coming.

“C’mon Y/N! You need really need to tell him!” Jamie told her wiping the teasing look in his eyes away as they changed to serious. “What’s the point when he most likely doesn’t feel the same way!” Y/N told him with frustration in her tone. “And why do you think that?” Jamie asked as leaned up in his seat on the couch. She was sitting across from him. “Well, for starters I’m one year older than him.” Y/N said looking down at her hands that were resting on her lap. “That’s not a valid reason.” Jamie told her in a stern tone. “C’mon, what’s the real reason?” Jamie said reading his best friend’s mind like a book. Y/N just stayed silent as she avoided Jamie’s strong gaze.

Jamie let out a sigh as he stood up and walked over to her. “It’s okay Y/N, you can tell me.” Jamie reassured her as he squatted down in front of her so he could look into her eyes. “What if I tell him and it ruins our friendship because he doesn’t feel the same way.” Y/N told him looking at him with soft eyes. “I think that’s a chance you should take. You never know unless you give it a shot.” Jamie told her with a soft smile. Jamie may love to get under her skin sometimes but when it comes to stuff like this, he’s always there for her to give her good advice but then again it does make sense since he’s the oldest out of the young cast. Before Y/N could say anything back a different voice spoke.

“Give what a shot?” Trinity asked, walking into the room with Bailey and Jack behind her. “Oh, this new tea that Jamie has been telling me about.” Y/N said quickly standing up and finally able to change the subject. “Right, Jamie?” She said as Jamie stood up. “Yeah, I’ll have to tell you all about it later.” Jamie said giving her a side glare for lying.

“Hey Y/N.” Jack said to her with a smile that just makes her heart melt. “Hi.” Y/N said in a shy tone which made her curse at herself in her mind. She spent two years filming a movie with this guy, why is she being so damn shy?

“What took you so long to get here? We thought Jamie was going to have to do the interviews by himself.” Bailey said to her with the same teasing smile Jamie gave her when she first got here. “It was my mom. She made me try on like a hundred outfits till we both agreed on this one.” Y/N explained with a heavy sigh. Don’t get Y/N wrong, she loves her mom but when it comes to what she has to wear, her mom gets very bossy. “Well, I think you girls picked right since you look beautiful.” Jack told her which made her cheeks turn bright red. Bailey and Trinity shared a knowing look while Jamie couldn’t help but cringe at Jack’s comment. He really needs to teach this boy how to flirt.

Before Y/N could thank Jack, the director called her and Jamie’s name saying it’s their turn to do the interview. “We’ll finish this conversation later.” Jamie said taking Y/N’s hand and following the director to the set with her following.

Jack let out a sigh as he walked over to the couch and plopped down on it. “You are such a lovesick fool.” Trinity told him with a teasing grin as Bailey giggled. “Trinity!” Jack hissed with frustration. “You know she’s right! You need to tell Y/N that you have liked her ever since the day you met her.” Bailey told him in a stern tone as she put her hands on her hips. “Why should I? Just tell her just so she can shut me down, yeah, no thanks.” Jack said as he folded his arms over his chest. “And why would she turn you down?” Trinity asked in a curious tone walking over to him and flopping downright next to him which made him let out a groan.

“Because she obviously likes Jamie!” Jack answered which made Bailey roll her eyes. “In the movie! They are just best friends!” Bailey told him for like the hundredth time. “That’s not what the internet says.” Jack mumbled but the girls heard what he said clearly. “Okay, so you rather believe the internet than your friends who actually know Y/N!” Bailey said starting to get annoyed with him. “Ugh! Can we not do this! Can we just please drop this topic and talk about something else.” Jack said with a groan of frustration. “Fine!” Both of the girls said at the same time.

Jack doesn’t want to believe the rumors that are flooding the internet that Y/N and Jamie are dating but at the same time he can’t help but think they are true. He sees the way they are around each other. The way they mess around with each other and how they bicker like an old married couple. How can people not ship them in real life?

--------------------

Y/N and Jamie were sitting next to each other answering the interviewer’s questions about their characters and the movie. “Okay, I have just one more question that of course I have to ask.” The interviewer said with a big smile on their face. “Here we go.” Jamie whispered to Y/N since they both knew what the question was.

“Online there are a bunch of rumors going around that you two are more than friends. Are those rumors true or false?” The interviewer said to them in a curious tone. “Even though I can see why people are saying that I have to say that those rumors are completely false.” Y/N answered the same question with the same answer every time. “Jamie and I do have a strong bond since we spent the most time together to build the chemistry for our characters but off screen, we are just best friends.” Y/N added to her answer. “Also, she has a crush on someone else.” Jamie added in with a devious smirk. “Jamie!” Y/N hissed looking at him with a glare giving his arm a smack.

“Oh really! Would you like to say who the mystery person is?” The interviewer asked in a curious tone as Jamie tried to hold his laughter in. “Not really since I would rather, the person find out from me in private not from an interview.” Y/N answered as she tried to keep her cool and not rip Jamie’s head off. “Okay, I understand.” The interviewer said with a nod of the head which made Y/N relax. She was scared that the interviewer was going to pressure her into telling who her crush is since some interviewers are very pushy.

“Thank you so much for answering my questions.” The interviewer said to them with a kind smile. Both Y/N and Jamie said you’re welcome and thanked the interviewer for being nice and kind. The interviewer closed the interview by saying when the movie will be out in theaters. “And we’re out!” The director shouted. “Okay, we’re going to be taking a thirty-minute break so Y/N and Jamie you free to go back to the lodge room you were previously in.” The director told them which earned them a nod from both of them. Before Y/N and Jamie left they thanked the interviewer again and walked out of the room together.

“I hate you.” Y/N hissed at him folding her arms over her chest as they walked down the hallway. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jamie said wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder.

--------------------

It was the next night and the cast had just finished doing their last interview and were back at the hotel resting for the world premiere tomorrow. Y/N was hanging out with Bailey and Trinity in her hotel room. They were just having a girl’s night in which they have had many of.

“Y/N, do you have a crush on Jack?” Trinity asked her, which took her by surprise. It also took Bailey by surprise, but she was also confused because she already knows the answer to that question. Y/N was going to lie but to be honest, if she doesn’t tell her about it, Jamie will tell her since he’s such a blabber mouth. Why does she tell Jamie stuff, she has no clue. “Yes, I have grown a huge crush on him for a while now.” Y/N confessed answering the question. “Great because he has a crush on you too.” Trinity told her which made Y/N’s heart rate speed up.

“Trinity!” Bailey said taken by surprise since she wasn’t expecting her to just tell Y/N that. “What? She deserves to know!” Trinity said to Bailey who knew she was right since Jack is too shy to tell Y/N his true feelings. “Jack, likes me back.” Y/N said still in complete shock. “Yes, he’s actually liked you ever since we started filming the movie.” Bailey told her which made Y/N’s eyes go wide. “Holy crap! That long!” Y/N said in a surprised tone. “Why didn’t he tell me?” Y/N asked. “Because he thinks you like Jamie even though we told him like a hundred times that you two are just friends.” Bailey explained to her. “Stupid rumors!” Y/N hissed with frustration.

“I need to go tell him.” She said standing up from her seat on her bed. “Wait, Y/N!” Bailey said quickly standing up from the couch she was sitting on with Trinity and grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Jamie may have told us that you wanted to tell Jack in a romantic way so how about you tell him at the premiere.” Bailey told her. There is going to be an after party after everyone sees the movie. There will be lights and music so that could be a romantic place to tell Jack how she feels. She knew it would be perfect. “Okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow at the premiere.” Y/N said with a smile on her face which also made Bailey and Trinity smile as well. Y/N was excited for tomorrow night but was also a tiny bit nervous as well.

--------------------

It was finally the night of the world premiere of Avatar and Y/N was getting finishing touches on her make up. She was getting ready with Bailey and Trinity. They were both already to go but they wanted to wait with Y/N so they could head downstairs into the lobby together.

Bailey was wearing a stunning puffy purple dress and Trinity was wearing a strapless black dress. She also had long black gloves that go with the dress. Y/N was wearing a hi-low black and white dress. The top of the dress was black and had off the shoulder sleeves and the hi-low flowy skirt was white.

When Y/N’s make up was done the girls made their way down to the lobby where Jack and Jamie were already waiting at. When the girls met up with the boy’s Y/N and Jack’s eyes immediately locked. They were both starstruck at each other’s appearance. Y/N thought Jack looked extremely handsome in his suit and his black bowtie was so adorable since he is more of a bowtie guy than a tie guy. Jack was completely blown away by Y/N’s appearance. She looked like a beautiful princess to him. Bailey and Trinity shared a smile because of Jack’s reaction. Jamie gave Jack a little nudge which made him step closer to Y/N.

“Hi Jack.” Y/N said with a soft smile looking up into his brown eyes. “Wow you look just… wow.” Jack said, trying to find words. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. “Thank you!” Y/N said as her cheeks turned a shade of bright red.

When the limo arrived, they all packed into the back of the vehicle and of course Y/N and Jack sat next to each other. On the way to the premiere the friends talked about how excited they were. Y/N took one of Jack’s hands which took him by surprise, but he didn’t let go. He actually gave her hand a light squeeze.

--------------------

Right when the whole cast got to the premiere, they started taking photos on the blue carpet. Of course, the carpet is blue instead of red because well Avatar. Y/N took some photos of just herself. She took some photos with the whole cast and just the young cast as well. In all of the group photos Y/N made sure she was posing right next to Jack. After photos the cast started to do their own separate interviews. Y/N was telling a reporter about her character and gushing over her character since she is so in love with her character and was honored to be playing a character with so much love and kindness.

“Now we know you have been working on this movie for more than two years, so you basically grew up on set. What was it like growing up on a movie set?” The reporter said into their microphone and then leaned it towards Y/N for her answer. “It was actually pretty fun! I mean growing up on a movie set isn’t for everyone, but James made it really fun and memorable. Plus, I grew up alongside really great and amazing people.” Y/N answered the question into the microphone.

“Who do you think you were the closest to onset?” The reporter asked into their microphone and then shifted it back towards Y/N. “Um, I don’t think I was the closest to just one person since I have grown close to everyone and developed a tight bond with everyone.” Y/N answered into the microphone obviously not being able to pick just one of her cast mates.

“Okay, last question. Who do you think of the young cast members had the biggest glow up or who has matured the most?” The reporter asked into the microphone and then leaned it back towards Y/N again. Y/N’s cheeks turned bright red. “Jack.” Y/N answered with a big smile. “Wow, no hesitation.” The reporter said with a smile. “He grew up very handsome. He’s the one that I think had the biggest glow up and he’s just so fun to be around. He’s always there when you need him to be.” Y/N answered into the microphone as her cheeks got redder and redder with every word she spoke. She looked over to the side and saw Jack doing an interview as well. “He’s the best person to be around.” Y/N said as she looked at him with awe.

--------------------

When everyone went into the theater to watch the movie Y/N sat next to Jack. When a romantic scene would come on, she would take his hand and hold it tight just like he did to her hand in the limo. The reason why Y/N has been holding his hand any chance she gets is to drop a hint that she feels the same way about him so that when she tells him it won’t be a complete shocker.

Right when the movie ended everyone headed to the after party to celebrate the launch of the long-waited sequel. Y/N was talking with Bailey when a slow song started to play. She looked over and saw Jack talking with Jamie and Trinity. She knew now was the perfect time to tell him her feelings. Bailey wished her good luck and watched Y/N walk over to Jack.

“Hey Jack! Wanna dance?” Y/N said to him with a sweet smile on her face. Jack couldn’t get any words out, so he just nodded his head. She giggled as she took his hand and walked out onto the dance floor. As they slow danced their hearts were beating out of their chests. “I know you have a crush on me.” Y/N blurted out which took Jack by surprise. “Y-you do?” Jack stuttered since he was in shock. “Is it that obvious?” He asked as his cheeks turned a bright red. “No, um Trinity told me.” Y/N told him. “Damn it! Of course, she did!” Jack said with frustration in his tone which made Y/N giggle. “Jack, I like you back.” Y/N confessed which made his eyes go wide. “You do? But I thought you liked Jamie.” Jack said in a surprised tone. “We’re just best friends and that’s it.” Y/N reassured him. “Oh well, in that case…” Jack started finally getting the confidence he needed.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?” He asked her. Y/N smiled as she leaned up and connected her lips with his which took him by surprise, but he returned the kiss. When they released themselves from the kiss, they rested their foreheads against one another. “I would love to go on a date with you.” Y/N answered his question with the biggest smile on her face.

*Tags* 

@athenalive  @rhiannonhippiegirl @netey6m

(IF YOUR NAME IS CROSSED OUT FOR SOME REASON TUMBLR WOULDN’T LET ME TAG YOU! SORRY)

[calicomarie11]

“You love me?” Sandy said, his voice shaky and unsure. He wiped a bit of soot off of Ricky’s face, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone.

“Si, mi amor.” Ricky smiled at him fondly.

“But why now?” Sandy asked, his brow furrowed. “Today wasn’t even bad. You could have told me after the earthquake or the mudslide or the shark attack? Or that time you were trapped and I thought you were dead or the time I actually died for a moment. Why now?”

“Because I saw you holding that cat and I realized I really couldn’t wait one more moment to make you mine.  You belong with me, Sandy, and the cat can come too. Tyler will love him.”

Sandy laughed, his face radiating with joy. “I love you too, by the way. And me and Mittens will happily follow you home.” 

Ricky reached up to cup the back of the blond’s neck, drawing him down for a soft kiss. It tasted of love and hope and the future and Sandy never wanted it to end. 

————

Lucy sets down her phone with a sigh and glances up to the ceiling, blinking away tears.  She loves reading about those two adorable idiots getting together.  She had been a fan fiction reader in college and rediscovered her love for the medium during the last time she’d been stuck at home recovering from an injury.  It was perfect for those times when she didn’t have the focus for new characters or to read in between calls and it was comforting to be able to read the tags and know what she was in for. 

The Hotshots fandom was a new obsession.  There was just something compelling about the show and the characters of Sandy and Ricky that drew her in.  Of course, the rescues they went on were completely ridiculous and both characters should have died, been permanently injured, or fired more times than she could count, but that was part of the fun.

And the bond between the two men was admirable, the way they seemed to be co-parenting Tyler, Ricky’s autistic teenager, and how they showed up for each other time and time again. Even if the show seemed determined to keep them apart, introducing new love interests for them so that at least one of them was always involved with someone as an excuse to keep them from realizing they would be perfect together.  At the least the show had a queer couple, Bea and Janet, which is more than most of the other shows currently airing had. 

Tommy sits down on the couch across from her, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches her wipe away the stray tears she didn’t manage to catch. “Reading Randy fanfic again?” he teases.

Lucy huffs, “Yes. What do you care?” She glares at him, although the quirk of her eyebrow undercuts the seriousness of her stare. 

Tommy leans back against the couch, spreading his arms along the backrest. “I learned something interesting about that show the other day.” His smug grin communicating that she won’t like what he’s about to say.

“Oh, really. Well, share with the class. I know you won’t be happy until you do.” Lucy rolls her eyes preemptively. She knew that talking about Randy at work was a mistake, but after the episode when they revealed that Ricky and Sandy had keys to each other’s places she couldn’t hold it in anymore. And she had some supporters on the crew, others who could see the breadcrumbs the show was laying down.

Tommy smirks at her. “Do you remember Taylor Kelly?”

Lucy frowns. What an odd question. Of course she remembers Taylor, she had been particularly persistent after her miraculous catch. “Yes, I remember Taylor.”

“Well, apparently, Taylor is one of Buck’s exes. And also the author of the book that Hotshots is based on. She’s working as a consultant on the show now.”

“So?” Lucy doesn’t get the connection.  Although Taylor as Buck’s ex makes sense of the animosity she always felt when they would interact. 

“So, the book was about the 118. About Evan and Eddie and Hen and Chim and Cap. Which means the show is about Evan and Eddie and Hen and Chim and Cap.” Tommy settles back in his seat, his expression expectant. 

Lucy frowns, thinking about what he’s just said. She thinks about the characters on the show and the friends she still has at the 118. Her eyes go wide as she really thinks about the parallels  and her mouth drops open in horror. She gives Tommy a death glare. “Fuck you Kinard. Why would you take this away from me?”

Tommy just laughs. “Hey, I figured you’d appreciate the heads up that you’ve been reading about Evan and Eddie’s imaginary courtship. Plus, I told Evan that I would tell you and I can’t wait to share your reaction with him.”

Lucy flips him off. “Damn it. Now I have to find a new ship to follow.” Lucy pouts while glaring at Tommy until her expression softens. “Hey, are you okay? Knowing that people think your man belongs with someone else?” 

Tommy chuckles, a fond smile on his face. “Don’t worry about me. Evan couldn’t stop laughing when I told him about the whole ‘Randy’ thing. He said, and I quote, ‘that would be an epic disaster’. I’m not worried he’s going to realize he’s in love with Eddie and leave me. Besides, Bobby will clear things up.”

“Bobby?” Lucy asks.

“Oh, yeah. Captain Nash is the new technical advisor for the show. I’m sure he’ll point them in the right direction.”

Read on AO3

[aki-bara]

I am not the author. This link has been posted with the author's permission.

I am losing my MIND over this fic. The story is basically a what if scenario where in exchange for protecting Percy, Poseidon helps Thalia and co. make it to camp. Obviously this changes a LOT of things, but it's not all sunshine and daisies! Thalia seems drawn to protect Percy (their are reasons!) and young Percy is just so desperate for friends that he latches onto her immediately as a guardian/protective figure. Seeing them interact like this is so sweet and so touching? At the same time I am terrified of what the future holds for these two and for what it means for the prophecy.

Thalia and Percy sibling bond is something I never knew I needed in my life and now I crave it so much that I am desperate for updates to this series. Please suffer with me.

Unintended Trade by @triscribeaucollection

“Thalia Grace,” said the man, the god, as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Your father has just killed someone I cared very deeply for. I’m here to make certain he doesn’t do it again." Shit. Before Thalia or Luke or Grover could react, the god reached behind him, and pulled out- -a kid. A little kid, no bigger than Annabeth. A boy with curly blonde hair, and red-rimmed eyes, who stared at the four of them with the sort of dazed expression that belonged on people just rescued from the wreckage of natural disasters.

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians (General & TV 2023)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Characters: Thalia Grace, Luke Castellan, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase, Poseidon, Percy Jackson

Relationships: Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Thalia Grace & Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan & Annabeth Chase & Thalia Grace

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sally Jackson (Mentioned), Protective Thalia Grace, Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Pre-Canon, Protective Poseidon, Poseidon Loves Percy Jackson, Grief/Mourning, Shock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Part 1 of The Trade AU

[morteraphan]

Very quick night art for Matthias, but I HAVE to draw him this way! This is still our AU where Lucian is a mermaid and Matthias is a lighthouse keeper. A "very cute" lighthouse keeper, as Lucian says. :D Character belong to my co-author @sinealas

[zileans-big-cl0ck]

hello ive never sent a request b4 not sure how this works pls bare with me too 😿😿 ive seen that u write for pyke and camille (my two fav characters) and i was wondering if u could write anything sfw/nsfw for one of them because theres barely any content for them, ty in advance 😸

✦–Pyke & Camille General Headcanons.✦ (SFW & NSFW)

✦I see someone’s taste never misses, Camille and Pyke as favourite characters!

✧ prompt: ✧ just feeling inspired today to actually write.

✧ champions: ✧ Camille, the Steel Shadow; Pyke, the Bloodharbor Ripper.

✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral.

✧ author’s note: ✧ I feel like Camille isn’t my champion to write tbh, I absolutely cannot caught her character; please pardon me. PYKE ON THE OTHER HAND- But, really, you don’t even know how I’ve been DYING to write something for my favourite boy Pyke. Ignore any mistakes; as much as I enjoyed writing this, I’m really tired :sob:.

masterlist

✦Camille, SFW:

Maybe she is a dominant, noble woman, but you still should valet her, treat he with the greatest respect. That amuses her.

Taking care of her well-being is your sacred order. The lady must be always pleased, cherished.

Of course she can treat herself right. She is a proud, self-respecting woman. But that doesn’t mean she does not enjoy making you submit, serve and obey.

Camille treats you, like you deseve to be treated - like an adorable pet that belongs to her.

And she rewards you generously, always making you accompany her, even if it means sharing with you and her wealthy co-workers the same secret informations of her important work. That is Camille’s way to bestow you with her trust, which is shared like a true gift, making you her little secretary and confidant.

She always keeps you near herself in case anything worrisome happened - or in case someone decided to profane her delicate belonging. Camille is a jealous and controlling woman who holds a firm border between her partner and anyone who may cross their path; she openly fears that the others, the vociferous people, may have bad influence on you. And you must stay as her property, and only hers.

Unfortunately, this entails with her sometimes treating you infantile, like you are not fully responsible. But don’t worry, it also means that she is always ready to do something for you, even if it is the hardest, most cumbersome work that requiers a professional. Because that’s who she is - a capable, deadly woman.

✦Pyke, SFW:

He always watches you from a distance. Pyke is a protective lover, but he desires to stay unseen by the others, all because of his well-known esteem as the Bloodharbor Ripper, the doom of captains. Even if you are not aware of his presence, he is alwats with you, stalking from the shadows, creeping around somewhere between the realms of the dead and mortals like a ghost, keeping an eye on you in case anything disturbed your peace. He would never stand anyone troubling you, which unfortunately can happen anytime in this perilous land. He is almost like a guardian angel, scared for your life and positive to take care of it, but cursed himself.

When he isn’t working, he likes reading. And I will not elaborate on that; Pyke has literally a Shakespeare quote in his own voicelines. He loves reading and you comming up with new book titles and recommendations for him, since he doesn’t have much time exploring this topic himself - his work consumes most of his sacred time, which he divides only between the ardous hunt for his victims and - you.

Though he appreciates your interest in his work, your questions about his day, even if their seem to serve no higher purpose than to start a conversation, he doesn’t want you to know all about his job. Not the things he has done to fulfill the meaning of his afterlife and cross all the names from the manifest. As Pyke came to conclusion, he might be unsure of your possible reaction to him being a killer, which you probably know either way, just never saw it on your eyes. At least he took care of it, to never commit such a dirty work before you. It’s not like he didn’t give you his whole trust, but you seeing his murderous persona might change your feelings towards him- that’s what he believes. And moreover, you might not want to see him how much pleasure he takes from killing.

He would never want you to risk your safety in order to try and get any information about his past, if you ever came up with idea so preposterous. Even if you were convinced that you might get into your hands a piece of knowledge that was out of reach for Pyke for years, maybe even decades. Of course he had shared with you the scraps of memories he still remembered, but there was never nothing solid, declaiming a consistent story. And he stopped caring about it long ago, entombing all the lost feelings in exchange for a new life (well, afterlife), new purpose, new emotions, even if they were ment to be irrelevant forever. Pyke befriended the truth - he, his new self, was never ment to meet with the man he was once before. Even if you were sweet enough, determined, to try and fight, he would turn you off - it didn’t matter if he couldn’t even remember it.

But he hoped it didn’t make you think that he didn’t trust you. He always answers your questions without keeping any bloody details to himself, just doesn’t tend to cover the subject by himself.

✦Camille, NSFW:

The first rule to obey: refer to Camille only as ”Ma’am”, ”My Lady” or, eventually, if she lets you, ”mommy”, so she could jovially call you her pet. A good, obedient little one, who can follow her around.

She would show you to her family, acquaintances, or co-workers with a proud, lustful look. She owns you not only so she could command you, but also to show a little off, to parade with her affable pet.

But you will always remain as her little one, the one under, the once she could crush, quite literally.

She loves the control she wields. Camille is a competent person who clearly deserves her position in the social hierarchy, same as under the cover of blankets. Or just thin walls of her office, where she also adores having you weak before herself.

She often wants you to wear revealing clothes, so the others could trace their lustful gazes, unnoticed as first, but over you. It is a perilous game - she always takes whatever she wants and her feelings are deep, sharp and adamant like blades, incandescent like fire. But you are tantalizing for her, especially when trying to get rid of woeful surrounding.

Camille would never let anyone else touch you, not even get close to you, but how she enjoys watching other people desiring you, yet not being able to ever caught your attention, as your heart belongs to Camille and only her.

Walking around her apartmnet nude, pitiful, with remorse in your eyes, is a sudden turn on for her. She knows you taunt her, tantalizing by the move of your hips, the place where she wants to dig her nails in while putting you in your place, right under her.

Her legs are obviously her deadliest weapon, but also the sweetest gift she can offer. She wants your head between them, squized and trapped in something between a full of pleasure, hot moment and a bewildering threat of her scissors-like blades.

Oh, how she enjoys crushing you under herself, sitting, rolling her hips just to make you squeak, beg and cry for more. And for a opportunity to breathe, as she toys with your fear.

Camille uses her voice to order you around, as she expects unquestionable obedience. The cybernetic, blue lights of her eyes never leave you, always scanning, petrifying, searching.

She never reaches her climax first. She can hold her pleasure back, just until your own release, just to see you succumb to her will and her orders. Only then Camille lets herself cum too, her moans being the sweetest reward you could get.

✦Pyke, NSFW:

What comes first, is that he is not needy at all. Even if Pyke desires touch, he would never willingly admit it, claiming that he is a ruthless murderer. He doesn’t need anything so prosaic.

So you are the one bestowed with the great honor to initiate sex.

And when it actually comes to it? He is absolutely melting, so quickly turned on. Though he wouldn’t admit that, again.

And what turns him on the quickest is probably you admiring him, tracing your fingers over his tattooed arms, your body near his chest, pulsing with pure life, so innocent in its vitality. Because it is something he lacks and therefore - desires with curiosity.

And though it might seem unusual for someone like him - bodyworshipping. An absolute lover for this one, especially when you praise or compliment.

He gets hot very quickly, which always makes him curse under his breath; especially whenever you test his patience. Because of his protectivness, it isn’t unusual of him to grab you with one of his hands onto his lap, always looking for an opportunity to touch you and to be touched, to have you really close. Just to have your beating heart near his quiet presence. Oh, and he is never immune to your teasing, even the slighest move of your hips, even your fingertips brushing his bare chest, is everything to make him grunt with approval.

The sensation of your soft skin, so different from the harsh world around, the fearsome depths, his disgusting prey made from men, intrigues him, alongside with the sick fascination with the contrast between you - a mortal that if he hurts, will surely suffer, and him - a shadow of the past, a revenant, whose heart doesn’t beat anymore.

But he fears you escaping him, like his victims always try. So he pins you, either to the bed below you or any other surface, making sure that you can not hide or run away. Maybe even ties you, but holding you by your wrists with his firm grip until you fully comprehends that you are trapped, usually works.

Despite Pyke’s protectivness, he is nothing close to being gentle in bed. He doesn’t even remember the word gentle anymore, therefore it is natural to treat you they way he thinks is satisfying. It's not like he is brutal, but he takes unimaginable pleasure from pinning your body, much smaller in comparison to his own, by his bare hands sculped with tattoos with force, to pull you hair and to have you whimpering into pillows.

Let him choke you. He is fascinated by the thrill of holding your life in his hands, the same hands that killed countless of men, now showing mercy to someone so dear to him, fragile and mellow. A person he could never harvest the life from, but still takes a sadistic kind of pleasure from playing with this idea. He could do anything to you, because you trusted him, but he won’t cross your boundaries - and he would never let anyone else do that.

Whenever you turn pale under him, white from fear, his gaze stalks covetously, devouring and claiming. But you can read nothing from his face, even if he takes his mask off, as he stays unmoved - but not stoic, he was never a philosopher. Rather in awe, like a conqueror having the key to his soul beneath him.

Your shaky breathing is tantalizing, when you struggle to inale, seeking mercy with your pitful eyes. Because he prefers them on himself, when gorgeous pupils trace his moves, fixed on his body, proudly towering over you.

Pyke is also well aware of the impact that his voice has on you. He is a wraith of his past self, yet he kept his deep, throaty voice that makes you shiver and obey.

Therefore he is suprisingly good at dirty talking, making the voice a great advantage.

Pyke can’t help himself and when with you - doesn’t hold back. Your presence, you squeezing around him, moaning, letting him do these things to you, doesn’t let him last for too long. Even with being the bloody killer, you are his only weakness and therefore - the ultimate form of pleasure, when he can do nothing against your charm, the muffled sounds you let out and the hot atmosphere. Often cums before you, which doesn’t mean he is done.

May be also a little egoistic becausae of the ignorance of your pleas to be more gentle. Just a little.

Also a fan of drunk sex, Pyke is a pirate after all. It’s probably in his blood.

[lamplightstudios]

Beneath the Mirror Tree

Summary

Far below the fae realm lies the realm of the goblins. A place of broken glass, devoid of food and light. Mushroom forests dot the horizon while creatures tunnel above to a world they do not belong. When a fae princess and an eternal vampire fall into the goblin realm, they will need to rely on each other to survive. But no one escapes the goblin realm. Not without a price.

Beneath the Mirror Tree will be posted once a month with early release available on Patreon. The story will be available digitally through Itch.io and upon completion, will be bound for purchase.

About the Authors

Both Zinnia and Poppy are two friends that have been writing together for close to four years. Beneath the Mirror Tree is one of the many stories they have co created together. Zinnia is also the author of the interactive fiction The Night Market, and Poppy is a digital artist specializing in interactive fiction characters and D&D OC's. Both of their blogs are linked below.

Zinnia's Writing

Poppy's Art

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (21/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2271

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Arianwyn meets Aemond in the Godswood.

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk

Author's Note: This chapter has some of the first writing I ever did for this fic! The last chapter had a couple lines, but this is where Aemond and Aria's (I really need an official ship name for them) story began. I had to make some changes, as the plot did evolve on its own once I started from the beginning, but the spirit of my initial burst of inspiration is still here.

Beneath the Weirwood Tree

“Marry me.”

Arianwyn’s heart stopped.

“What did you say?” she asked, the question hardly louder than a sigh.

Aemond swallowed and dropped her chin. Flustered, he turned his rapidly blinking eye away from her as he tried to compose himself.

Years ago, in this very spot, she had told him how she feared being married. How she did not want to return to a strange castle with a strange man – a man who may mistreat her.

He knew now that was not all she feared.

She was afraid she would meet the same fate as her mother. Rhea Royce had married a strange man, and it cost her not only her happiness and reputation, but her life.

Throughout their childhood, Aemond had always thought that Arianwyn’s love of legends and fairy tales came from the sincere, romantic belief that her life would be as full of magic and wonder as the stories they read. After all, she had taken to calling herself the “girl in the tower” when she was first confined on Dragonstone. But all along, she had been reading for the same reason as him: to escape from the confines of their grim realities, if even for a moment.

For the precious minutes they spent reading those hallowed words, Aemond was not a forgotten second son whose fate was limited to playing a small part in the grand tales of his more important siblings, but a valiant prince destined for greatness. He was not the sinister one-eyed monster he knew the court and smallfolk thought him to be, but an honorable knight who desired only peace – for his people, for himself, and for his princess.

In the world of their stories, Arianwyn was not a child borne of hatred, eternally haunted by the sins of her father, but the noble daughter of two ancient bloodlines fated to rule her people with kindness and grace. She was not a powerless girl locked in a tower, living in dread of what her future would bring, but a woman able to determine her own fate, and find her true love.

Arianwyn deserved her fairy tale. And though Aemond knew he could not give it to her, he could at least free her from Daemon’s grasp.

He turned back to her. “If you marry me, you will no longer belong to your father.”

“I would belong to you,” Her face was twisted with confusion as her heart resumed its hammering. But it didn’t feel like rage. Her pulse raced, yes, but it carried an exhilarating chill through her body.

Yes,” Aemond breathed, “but I could never command you, Aria. I would never even try. You know that. In all the ways that truly matter, you would be free.”

His face was as open as she had ever seen, his beautiful eye almost pleading, and she knew he didn’t just want this for her.

But now was not the time to confront that look or what it meant. Her mind was racing too fast to acknowledge that her blood was singing in response to his words.

“You would do that for me?” she asked. A Prince’s hand in marriage was one of the most powerful diplomatic tools the Crown had. To marry in secret could have consequences that rippled all the way across the Narrow Sea, not to mention how Daemon would react.

He looked almost hurt that she would ask. Again, he enveloped her hand with his, bringing the other up to brush the tears from her cheeks.

“I would do anything for you, Arianwyn,” he whispered.

The urge to kiss him nearly overwhelmed her. But she summoned all her remaining strength to hold herself back. If his plan worked, she would have the rest of their lives to kiss him as much as she wanted.

Squeezing his hand, she gave her answer. “Then I will happily marry you, Prince Aemond.”

Raising a prayer of thanks to each face of the Seven, Aemond pulled Arianwyn into his chest in an embrace so tight he was sure she would feel his heart pounding. But he did not care. Every wish he had ever made was about to come true.

“My Prince?” Ser Criston’s voice broke them apart. Thankfully, the Kingsguard ignored the impropriety of their embrace, only concerned with their safety. “Is the Lady alright?”

“I’m perfectly well,” she replied, “thank you, Ser.”

Again, she had forgotten the twin trails of blood running down her throat and the beginnings of bruises lining her jaw. But Aemond had not.

“Send a man to fetch Grand Maester Orwyle,” he commanded, lacing his fingers through Arianwyn’s protectively. “And another for Brynna Taler. Have them meet us in the Sept. The rest of you will accompany us to Septon Eustace’s chambers.”

Cole glanced at their held hands and the flush on both their faces. “May I ask for what purpose, my Prince?”

Aemond raised his chin as he answered, challenging the knight to object. “The Lady Arianwyn and I are to be married this night.”

Rather than raise any objection or even question why they were doing this in secret, Cole only smiled and bowed his head. “Of course, my Prince. And may I be the first to offer my sincere congratulations.”

“Ser Criston?” Arianwyn called as he turned away to gather the men. “Not the Sept. The Godswood, and the Weirwood tree.”

Aemond looked down at her with a questioning gaze, and she offered him a thoughtful, sweet smile. “I think it would be wise for us to seek the blessing of as many gods as possible, don’t you?”

They would certainly need all the protection they could manage when Daemon found out. Aemond nodded to her, then to Ser Criston. “The Godswood,” he affirmed.

-

By the time they reached Eustace’s door, Aemond and Arianwyn were both gasping for breath. Though they were accompanied by Ser Criston and ten Runestone guards, they still ran through the Keep for fear of Daemon finding them before they had the protection of their vows.

Aemond pounded on the door, fully aware that the old man was likely deep in sleep. After a moment, the Septon emerged, tired and incredulous.

“What could you possibly want from me at this hour, Prince Aemond?” he asked, though his eyes widened with nervousness when he beheld the near dozen guards surrounding them.

“I need you to marry us,” Aemond replied, his grip on Arianwyn’s hand firm. “Now.”

At first, Eustace looked like the victim of an elaborate prank. Though as Aemond explained his plan, his dark eyes gained a grim clarity.

The Septon sighed, fixing the pair before him with a probing gaze. “You realize that to do this without the permission of the King, or Prince Daemon, would put me in mortal danger?”

“We understand,” Arianwyn said, gripping Aemond’s hand as if her life depended on it. “But we wouldn’t ask this of you if we weren’t desperate.”

Eustace looked at their clasped hands and the wounds on Arianwyn’s neck. “Desperate,” where her father was concerned could be equally dangerous as defying the King. With a sigh leaned back into his quarters, pulling his ceremonial robes off their hook.

“We shall require a cloak.”

-

The full moon set the leaves of the Godswood ablaze with silver as the ceremony began. Arianwyn lingered outside the entrance to the Heart Tree courtyard, Orwyle tending to her wounds while Brynna dabbed at the bloodstains on her dress. Aemond stood before the giant Weirwood with Eustace while the Septon recited the traditional prayers.

Was she really doing this? Marrying in secret in the middle of the night? Shackling herself to one man simply to be free of another?

But this wasn’t just any man. She was not being sold to a stranger, some second son she barely knew, or an old man seeking to use her only for her noble womb.

This was Aemond.

The person in the world she knew better than anyone or anything. She had known him almost her whole life. This was a man she had grown up with, played with, and studied with.

They had discovered and chased their passions together. Spending countless hours together, in the library, in her rooms, and in the Dragonpit.

He had been there the first time she rode Emrys, and she when he claimed Vhagar.

When her father ripped her away to Dragonstone, he had written to her every day, even while healing from the loss of his eye.

It was he who had held her and wiped her tears that very night after her father had come so close to killing her.

This was the man she loved, though it had taken her years admit it.

She loved him. With every beat of her heart and breath in her lungs, she loved him.

It had been that love that had kept her alive on Dragonstone. That fed the wild hope that one day she would see him again, and they would be together until the end of their days. Along with his beautiful letters, that hope had sustained her.

But even before they were separated, she had loved him. Why else would she have gone with him to claim Vhagar? What else but love would have made her fool enough to approach such a massive beast? Could anything else have made her heart soar to the heavens themselves when she watched him finally fulfill a lifelong dream?

All her life, Aemond was there. Alicent once told her that when they first met as babes, they had smiled when they saw each other. Had they somehow known, even then, what they were destined for?

Arianwyn felt like a fool for being so blind for so long. Had she known the true identity of her feelings, she would have fought harder for him. She never would have allowed them to be torn apart.

“Bride, approach.” Eustace’s voice ripped her from her thoughts.

Brynna groaned, “But I have not fixed your hair!”

“That’s alright,” Arianwyn said with a smile for her oldest companion. Though this was not how she imagined her wedding, she was exceedingly grateful for Brynna’s presence. “I believe Aemond likes my hair just the way it is.”

With a light kiss to the girl’s forehead, Brynna stepped aside, allowing her to step forward and take Ser Criston Cole’s hand as he led her into the heart of the Godswood.

Arianwyn tried in vain to calm her racing heart as she climbed to the base of the Heart Tree. She wore no veil, so there was nothing to hide her flush as she faced Aemond.

Seeing her nervousness, he reached out a hand to take hers before remembering himself and pulling it back. Eustace spied the movement and smirked as he instructed Aemond, “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

It was a borrowed cloak. White, as her bride dress should have been. Ser Criston Cole had offered it without prompting and gave it with his blessing.

Now, Arianwyn gazed into Aemond’s violet eye as he swept the cloak around her shoulders, taking an extra moment to make sure her hair lay just right upon the fabric, the silver curls and white cloak aglow in the light of the full moon. She could find no trace of nervousness on his face, only the slight edge of a smile on his lips. It began to reflect on her own before she could help herself.

Eustace continued. “I stand here in the sight of the gods to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Now with the proper cue, Aemond took her hand, as he had done so many times that night and in all the years before. But this time was different. His hand was so warm against the chill of the air, warmer even than the cloak he had put around her. This time, Arianwyn could not help but notice the way his hand fit perfectly on hers.

The Archmaester began wrapping a ribbon around their joined hands. “Let it be known that Arianwyn of Houses Targaryen and Royce, and Aemond of Houses Targaryen and Hightower are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.” A dangerous flash ran through Aemond’s face at the words, though it faded as fast as it appeared.

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.” Orwyle let the ribbon unwind and fall to the grass below them. “Look upon each other and say the words.”

One violet eye met a shining pair of silver, and Aemond and Arianwyn spoke as one.

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger.”

“I am hers, and she is mine.”

“I am his, and he is mine.”

“From this day until the end of my days.”

They were ritual words, spoken by brides and grooms in Westeros for hundreds of years. But still, they had never rung so true as on this night beneath the Heart Tree in the Godswood of Kings.

Arianwyn did not know what the morning would bring. Whether she would remain here or be taken back across the Blackwater against her will. But it did not matter anymore. She looked at the determination and love on her husband’s face, and she was not afraid.

Dragonstone was not her home; of that she was certain. But neither was the Red Keep nor Runestone her home. Not even the library she loved so dearly was her home.

Aemond was.

Next Chapter

[punkpandapatrixk]

[PPA Masterlist] [corresponding PAC]

🪷Sacred Lotus Within You ★ Concept Affirmations

🪷Sacred Lotus🪷

I AM a Sacred Lotus born with fragments of the Universe. I AM a divine expression of God’s Creativity. I am lovely, and I belong. In this world I’ve incarnated into, I can be myself. I’ll gladly see myself grow until I fully blossom with the fragrance of the Sacred Lotus. I am strong and beautiful as the ancient Lotus. In spite of muddy waters, I am pure, I remain good; I am kind, I am gentle and compassionate. I love the fact that I am good in spite of everything that’s happened to me. I AM a Sacred Lotus born from fragments of the Universe.

🪷Divine Human🪷

This world continues to become good because I AM in it. Because I am developing myself to become the greatest version of myself—to become an embodiment of Divinity in Human form. I AM a force of good. I AM LIGHT. With full consciousness I co-Create a future that’s GOOD for ME and all of Humanity. I liberate myself from impure intents. I liberate myself from berating myself. I liberate myself from any and all things that aren’t in support of my Divine Expression. As I continue to liberate myself from all sicknesses of the mind, I create ripples that heal all of Mankind. This world continues to become good because I AM a part of it.

🪷Elysian🪷 – relating or pertaining to characteristics of heaven/paradise

I AM a human personification of an Elysian vision on Earth. My time on Earth is blissful. I attract happiness by resonance. I am surrounded by kind-hearted people. My closest friends are loyal and supportive of me. I find beauty in everything I do. I make peace with ugly things I sometimes do and I forgive others for their shortcomings as well. They are learning; I am learning; we’re all learning to make it in this often-unideal world. When I accept unpeacefulness, that is when I become peaceful within myself. I AM a human personification of an Elysian vision on Earth.

🪷Commandment🪷 – a divine rule/order

I command authority over MY Life. I am at the wheel of my ship, sailing towards my Great Destiny. A shower of Light rains down on me and I awaken to my true purpose. Answering my Divine Calling, I turn all losses to victories. I am guided by my intuition. I refuse to be misled by my fears. I stop at nothing to pursue my Higher Calling. I believe in me. I put my faith in my Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides. I am safe to walk this Earth. I am the authority of my own Life. I AM THE MAIN CHARACTER AND THE NARRATOR!

🪷Great Care🪷

I take great care of my mental and physical health. I take it very seriously that health is the first wealth. I am so deserving of being well taken care of. I can and will take care of myself to the highest degree. I manifest plenty of money to support my health. I make the right choices to maintain my health. My health is very important to me and everyone else agrees. In any situation I always prioritise my wellbeing first. That way, I function at my best and can easily make the right choices at any given time. My mind is always clear. My heart is stable. I am in control of my emotions and reactions. My mental and physical health is greatly taken care of.

🪷Great Learning🪷

My Life is a process of learning, all about me, my place in the world, and about everyone else and the roles they play in this Cosmic Drama. I am in love with Life. I greatly enjoy my time on Earth. I make the best of my time here on Earth. I create a beautiful Life for myself. Even after hardships and heartbreaks I fall in love all over again with Life. It is because I love MY Life. It is because I love the fact that I’m here. I LOVE ME. There’s still so much to learn about me. I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT MY EXISTENCE. I’m still on my way to figuring out all there is to know about ME. I discover the Great Mystery through discovering MYSELF.

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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[dailyanarchistposts]

A.3.6 What is Cultural Anarchism?

For our purposes, we will define cultural anarchism as the promotion of anti-authoritarian values through those aspects of society traditionally regarded as belonging to the sphere of “culture” rather than “economics” or “politics” — for example, through art, music, drama, literature, education, child-rearing practices, sexual morality, technology, and so forth.

Cultural expressions are anarchistic to the extent that they deliberately attack, weaken, or subvert the tendency of most traditional cultural forms to promote authoritarian values and attitudes, particularly domination and exploitation. Thus a novel that portrays the evils of militarism can be considered as cultural anarchism if it goes beyond the simple “war-is-hell” model and allows the reader to see how militarism is connected with authoritarian institutions (e.g. capitalism and statism) or methods of authoritarian conditioning (e.g. upbringing in the traditional patriarchal family). Or, as John Clark expresses it, cultural anarchism implies “the development of arts, media, and other symbolic forms that expose various aspects of the system of domination and contrast them with a system of values based on freedom and community.” This ”cultural struggle” would be part of a general struggle “to combat the material and ideological power of all dominating classes, whether economic, political, racial, religious, or sexual, with a multi-dimensional practice of liberation.” In other words, an “expanded conception of class analysis” and “an amplified practice of class struggle” which includes, but is not limited to, ”economic actions like strikes, boycotts, job actions, occupation, organisations of direct action groups and federations of libertarian workers’ groups and development of workers’ assemblies, collectives and co-operatives” and ”political activity” like the “active interference with implementation of repressive governmental policies,” the “non-compliance and resistance against regimentation and bureaucratisation of society” and “participation in movements for increasing direct participation in decision-making and local control.” [The Anarchist Moment, p. 31]

Cultural anarchism is important — indeed essential — because authoritarian values are embedded in a total system of domination with many aspects besides the political and economic. Hence those values cannot be eradicated even by a combined economic and political revolution if there it is not also accompanied by profound psychological changes in the majority of the population. For mass acquiescence in the current system is rooted in the psychic structure of human beings (their “character structure,” to use Wilhelm Reich’s expression), which is produced by many forms of conditioning and socialisation that have developed with patriarchal-authoritarian civilisation during the past five or six thousand years.

In other words, even if capitalism and the state were overthrown tomorrow, people would soon create new forms of authority in their place. For authority — a strong leader, a chain of command, someone to give orders and relieve one of the responsibility of thinking for oneself — are what the submissive/authoritarian personality feels most comfortable with. Unfortunately, the majority of human beings fear real freedom, and indeed, do not know what to do with it — as is shown by a long string of failed revolutions and freedom movements in which the revolutionary ideals of freedom, democracy, and equality were betrayed and a new hierarchy and ruling class were quickly created. These failures are generally attributed to the machinations of reactionary politicians and capitalists, and to the perfidy of revolutionary leaders; but reactionary politicians only attract followers because they find a favourable soil for the growth of their authoritarian ideals in the character structure of ordinary people.

Hence the prerequisite of an anarchist revolution is a period of consciousness-raising in which people gradually become aware of submissive/authoritarian traits within themselves, see how those traits are reproduced by conditioning, and understand how they can be mitigated or eliminated through new forms of culture, particularly new child-rearing and educational methods. We will explore this issue more fully in section B.1.5 (What is the mass-psychological basis for authoritarian civilisation?), J.6 (What methods of child rearing do anarchists advocate?), and J.5.13 (What are Modern Schools?)

Cultural anarchist ideas are shared by almost all schools of anarchist thought and consciousness-raising is considered an essential part of any anarchist movement. For anarchists, its important to “build the new world in the shell of the old” in all aspects of our lives and creating an anarchist culture is part of that activity. Few anarchists, however, consider consciousness-raising as enough in itself and so combine cultural anarchist activities with organising, using direct action and building libertarian alternatives in capitalist society. The anarchist movement is one that combines practical self-activity with cultural work, with both activities feeding into and supporting the other.

[scifigeneration]

An X-Files expert on the show’s enduring appeal – 30 years on

by Bethan Jones, Research Associate at the University of York

On September 10 1993 the pilot episode of The X-Files aired. Thirty years later to the day, I was at a convention centre in Minneapolis with 500 other fans and the show’s creator, Chris Carter, celebrating its legacy.

Ostensibly a show about aliens, The X-Files swiftly became part of the cultural lexicon and remains there to this day. In part its success was down to the chemistry of its two leads – David Duchovny, who played FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder and Gillian Anderson, who played FBI Special Agent Dana Scully. After all, it was the X-Files fandom that invented the term “shipping” (rooting for characters to get together romantically).

But, as I argue in my new book, The Truth Is Still Out There: Thirty Years of The X-Files, what really made the series successful was its ability to tap into contemporary cultural moments and ask us to really think about the times we’re living in.

When the series began in 1993, the US was still grappling with the effects of Watergate and the Vietnam war, but concerns were also rising about the approaching millennium and the economic and cultural divisions within US society. It also coincided with Bill Clinton becoming president – marking the end of more than a decade of Republican leadership.

It’s little surprise that fears about immigration, globalisation, national identity and technology emerged and were adopted – and sometimes foreshadowed – by The X-Files’ writers. Several episodes throughout the first nine seasons dealt with artificial technology, for example, and Eve, an episode in season one about clones, came four years before the birth of Dolly the Sheep.

Critical theorist Douglas Kellner argued in 1994 that The X-Files “generated distrust toward established authority, representing institutions of government and the established order as highly flawed, even complicit in the worst crimes and evil imaginable”. Though I’d argue it was less that the show generated this distrust and more that it leveraged the growing number of reports about the government’s secretive activities to inspire its storylines.

As the public became more aware of the government’s role in – and surveillance of – public life, so too The X-Files considered the ways in which technology could be used as a means of control.

In the season three episode Wetwired, for example, a device attached to a telephone pole emits signals that tap into people’s paranoid delusions and lead them to kill. And in the season six episode, SR 819, a character’s circulatory system fails because he has been infected with nanotechnology controlled by a remote device belonging to a shadow government.

These themes reflected growing concerns about government agencies using technology to both spy on and influence the public.

The X-Files’ enduring appeal

During my X-Files research, carried out with viewers after a revival was announced in 2015, it became clear that the show has remained part of the cultural lexicon. As one fan explained: “The cultural context of conspiracy theories has changed since the beginning of X-Files. Nowadays, every pseudoscience documentary uses similar soundtrack and narrative.”

Of course, the X-Files didn’t invent conspiracy theories, but as one of the show’s writers and producers, Jim Wong, points out, it did “tap into something that was more or less hidden in the beginning when we were doing it”.

The focus on the rise of the alt-right, disinformation and fake news in seasons 10 and 11 seemed like a logical angle from which to approach the changing cultural context the revival came into. Carter and his co-writers dove straight in to what Guardian critic Mark Lawson calls “a new era of governmental paranoia and public scepticism”, fuelled by the 2008 financial crisis, the fall out of the war on terror and scores of political scandals.

Season 10 saw the introduction of a right-wing internet talk show host who argues that 9/11 was a “false flag operation” and that the mainstream liberal media lie to Americans about life, liberty and the right to bear arms. The parallels to conspiracy theorists like Alex Jones and Glenn Beck were obvious.

Carter’s incorporation of topics like surveillance, governments’ misuse of power and methods of social control meant that seasons ten and 11 were very much situated in the contemporary moment. This is perhaps most obvious in the season 11 episode, The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat, which deals with the disinformation of the Trump era head on. The episode’s protagonist, Dr. They, tells Mulder that “no one can tell the difference anymore between what’s real and what’s fake”.

While The X-Files’ search for the truth in the 1990s may have ultimately been a philosophical endeavour, in the 21st century it is a commentary on how emotion and belief can be more influential than objective facts.

Watching the show again while researching my book, I was struck by how it was dated predominantly by its lack of technology, rather than the ideas it expresses. In the second season episode Ascension, Mulder pulls a phone book off a shelf in his search for Scully – now we’d use Google. But in other aspects the show remains as relevant today as it was in the 1990s, encouraging us to think about the big questions relating to faith, authority and truth.

[rat-prophetess]

ASSIGNING PATHO CHARACTERS QUOTES FROM STOIC PHILOSOPHERS, PART 1/?? (EPICTETUS)

Daniil:

“Confidence (courage) then ought to be employed against death, and caution against the fear of death. But now we do the contrary, and employ against death the attempt to escape; and to our opinion about it we employ carelessness, rashness, and indifference. These things Socrates properly used to call tragic masks; for as to children masks appear terrible and fearful from inexperience, we are also affected in like manner by events (the things which happen in life) for no other reason than children are by masks… What is death? A tragic mask. Turn it and examine it. See, it does not bite. The poor body must be separated from the spirit either now or later as it was separated from it before. Why then are you troubled if it is separated now?”

Artemy:

“You say: “Philosophers talk paradoxes.” But are there no paradoxes in the other arts? And what is more paradoxical than to puncture a man’s eye in order that he may see? If any one said this to a man ignorant of the surgical art, would he not ridicule the speaker? Where is the wonder, then, if in philosophy also many things which are true appear paradoxical to the inexperienced?”

Clara:

“Why do you not know whence you came? will you not remember when you are eating who you are who eat and whom you feed? When you are in social intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, when you are engaged in discussion, know you not that you are nourishing a god, that you are exercising a god? Wretch, you are carrying about a god with you, and you know it not.”

Plague:

“Therefore, the philosophers say well, that if the good man had foreknowledge of what would happen, he would co-operate towards his own sickness and death and mutilation, since he knows that these things are assigned to him according to the universal arrangement, and that the whole is superior to the part, and the state to the citizen.”

Mark Immortell:

“Remember that thou art an actor in a play; of such a kind as the teacher (author) may choose; if short, of a short one; if long, of a long one… this is your duty, to act well the part that is given to you; but to select the part, belongs to another.”

Rat Prophet:

“Why do you care about the way of going down to Hades? All ways are equal. But if you will listen to the truth, the way which the tyrant sends you is shorter. A tyrant never killed a man in six months: but a fever is often a year about it. All these things are only the sound and the noise of empty names.”

The Kin:

“Who are you? A man. If you consider yourself as detached from other men, it is affording to nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if you consider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is for the sake of that whole that at one time you should be sick, at another time take a voyage and run into danger, and at another time be in want, and in some cases die prematurely. Why then are you troubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no longer a foot if it is detached from the body, so you are no longer a man if you are separated from other men.”

Oyun:

“Through an unreasonable regard to divination many of us omit many duties. For what more can the diviner see than death or danger or disease or generally things of that kind? If then must I expose myself to danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, what need have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner who has told me the nature or good and evil, and has explained to me the signs (or marks) of both? What need have I then to consult the viscera of victims or the flight of birds, and why do I submit when he says, It is for your interest? For does he know what is for my interest, does he know what is good; and as he has learned the signs of the viscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil?”

Utopians:

“… since these two things are mingled in the generation of man, body in common with the animals, and reason and intelligence in common with the gods, many incline to this kinship, which is miserable and mortal; and some few to that which is divine and happy. Since then it is of necessity that every man uses everything according to the opinion which he has about it, those, the few… have no mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves; but with the many it is quite the contrary. For they say, What am I? A poor, miserable man, with my wretched bit of flesh. Wretched, indeed; but you possess something better than your bit of flesh. Why then do you neglect that which is better, and why do you attach yourself to this?”

[vinyatar]

OC Questionnaire Tag Game

I was tagged by three people (thank you friends!!) so my rambling will be in a 'read more' below. My own questions for you all are at the end.

As the relative of several notorious kinslayers and the last representative of her House, she must work harder than others to gain people's trust and love, even though she does not feel responsible for her family's deeds.

from @linden-leaf - answering for Eilian (arantea cinnamon roll)

What’s a core lie your character believes about themselves or the world, and where did it originate?

Who are/were the most important people in their lives? Did they choose those people for themselves (and would they choose them again)?

Is there a choice they’ve surprised themselves by making? (And did they learn anything about themselves through making it?)

- her fiancé, one of the Gwaith-i-Mirdain. Before he died in Eregion he requested that the betrothal rings were returned to her, technically releasing her from the arrangement. His fate shapes her role in Middle-earth for the next two Ages. They choose each other again when they are reunited.

- her adoptive brother Naerchil, brought together by the trauma of Dagor Bragollach as children. They were sent away from the Fëanorians together and he was her guardian. They are somewhat co-dependent.

Despite knowing the havoc that oaths have wrought on her family, she ends up swearing her own oath of vengeance (to either destroy Sauron or herself die in Middle-earth). She fights many battles and takes many lives and upon introspection, begins to understand a little more the rest of her family.

What is their biggest regret, and why?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

from @yellow-faerie - answering for Teithril (marsh elleth)

Teithril has reconstructed many texts and preserved countless stories but was not able to save Dírhaval (the mortal author of The Children of Hurin, and a close friend of herself and Pengolodh) from the Kinslaying at the Havens of Sirion.

Do they have a craft? When and where did they learn it, and from who, and why?

She's no Therindë but is a resourceful sewer and weaver using various basic/foraged materials, due to her upbringing in a small marshy Sindar village in Nevrast.

She is an excellent scribe and learned from Turgon's people in Nevrast (her characteristic small neat script is due to a tendency for manuscript-hoarding after the fall of Gondolin)

How do they sleep? Is it restful, or full of nightmares? Do they only sleep in short bursts or are they the sort to sleep deeply all night?

she combines these two skills to make Pengolodh a quilted coat, but it's stuffed with manuscript copies in tiny font. It's arrow-resistant!

She sleeps restfully but dreams vividly due to all the stories she's accumulated through the Ages

Has your OC ever burned or otherwise destroyed something that reminded them of unhappy times or experiences in their past? Was this part of an arranged event? Or something they did spontaneously or in anger?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

from @the-journey-was-the-point - answering for Ancalimon (the bright trashlord)

many of Ancalimon's possessions from pre-Angband were destroyed by his mother during a grieving period. She does not recognize that he ever returned.

Ancalimon destroys the watchtower belonging to his father during the Dagor Bragollach, removing all traces of his family. It was spontaneous but intentional as it had been overrun by enemy forces

What is your character's preferred way of coping with stress or difficult situations?

Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them! (whether other OC or canon)

externally:

- inside or outside the Fëanorian circle, among peers or if social norms are in play: by being annoyingly charming and facetious

- outside the Fëanorian circle, if anything goes: with violence, ruthlessly

- inside the Fëanorian circle, among rank superiors: efficiently and with competence. If hard pressed on a personal level (relating to his past or the Lúthien incident) he withdraws into himself

internal issues: doesn't deal with them at all

Finrod: too wise to fool, too powerful to harm, too important to ignore during the Fëanorians' time in Nargothrond

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Here are my questions:

would your character step in harm's way for someone else, and who are they? would they do the same for your character?

how does your character handle betrayal?

if your character were a video game boss, what do the game guides say about them? What is one piece of loot they would drop?

I'm not tagging anyone in particular because I am so late in answering, and many people I would have tagged have already gone through some questions! Please feel free to answer if you'd like - I'd love to hear more about your OCs!

[nothing-suspicious-in-there]

Slightly more dramatic than necessary for what we know so far, but still, maybe it will finally deliver on some more Good Koga Trauma as I hoped it would, to make this drama look more appropriate.

The way this is going has the potential to address a number of less-than-ideal things that i had an issue with in this manga, even if nothing big enough to make me stop reading a story I understand to be casual:

After the renewed attention given to Koga not studying, and then this I start to have hope that I can engage with this story on a slightly higher ground than just cute gay fluff. (Slighlty, it's still a romance manga not fucking. utena or something. but my expectations are so low nowadays that the co-occurrence of something I like also being decently written is akin to a miracle to me.)

So I'm not raising my hopes too much, but potentially these things would be real good if they happened (so Incredibly basic I feel dumb by typing them out like it's complex analysis, but again my bar is low):

Small setups

First of all a number of things that happened casually in the last few chapters seemingly without much bigger significance about them or seemingly solved could be leading up to this and make matters worse.

We have Koga having a dramatic moment of being jealous of herself. All very irrational and silly. But it's clearly been shown to be rooted in trauma (that again I hope it'll explore better to give it more weight than it currently has, it's very vague and not well defined enough to keep up these moments of drama as effectively as it should.) This clearly serious moment for her is created and resolved in the span of 3 4-pages chapters, barely anything.

Many previous plot points that have been raised simply get "resolved" extremely quickly and/or easily like this one, or her social anxiety, her feeling of not belonging, her bad grades, aya fearing koga will relocate. In an episodic story where the author is not concerned with exploring stuff or giving it time to stew or a realistic length for its resolutions. it means the story is just like that, it's a matter of what you like and want to write. And I personally don't enjoy this episodic-ness as much as the alternative.

In a story concerned with having satisfactory earned resolutions and a long development, those issues are shelved for later use, and given the last chapters I'd really hope the author is showing that she's writing the latter type of story, since it's what I prefer. Having a dramatic moment with Koga and then telling us it's resolved in .5 seconds without exploring it deeply just feels like a missed opportunity for me and I'd love if this and other small details would come together to do just that.

The fact that her social problems are resolved so anti-climatically is. fine for a casual story, but it would be more juicy if they were not solved as easily as just her hanging out with a couple more people, since the story is also trying to sell me that these issues are pretty bad and somewhat traumatic in nature. Maybe this will go somewhere more interesting now that it's getting de-shelved, and hopefully it wasn't supposed to be a neat and tidy resolution before.

The last fer chapters also has a very small undercurrent that I could have done without, specifically something like that small aya remark on how she likes Koga in the girls' uniform while knowing full well Koga's not into it (not Aya's fault, but also not ideal to say to a butch lol), or the fact that Koga's clearly-serious-if-still-irrational-and-obviously-dumb fear on how she's not really why aya keeps hanging out with her was "resolved" by being dismissed as a dog whining for attention. I myself made Mirror Dog Comic jokes literally the second i finished chapter 76, the story doing that joke themselves was funny and Koga's hilariously wrong ofc, but also huh, then the dog joke went on for like 3 chapters and idk. With how it was all framed it doesn't give off the best respect-for-the-character-vibes specifically because it's also framed as the result of some serious issues.

I always thought that this manga, unlike some other stuff, kinda give the impression it respected its butch character enough, or butchness in general, none of that "haha let's give the butch character girly clothes and laugh at how uncomfortable they are lol" manga loves. She does dumb shit and is called out for that, but she feels like an actual person, neither a complete dumbass nor the coolest person on earth. Recently though there was this slight movement toward "what a dumbass" in a way that doesn't feel earned and clashes against the subtext of why she's acting like that, this or the thing with aya just randomly saying she likes her in the girls' uniform were kinda strange. I'd really like if this is less of a falling into bad habits with depicting butch characters and more a setup for what'll happen after the end of this chapter, adding to the pile of things thanks to which Koga will feel misunderstood.

The premise

Another thing that developing her trauma does is solving an half-issue that has been there since the start of this manga and is kinda a problem of this type of premise unless you do a really good job at making sure to solve it. When you're writing a standard romance story where two people are, more or less, still supposed to get together in the end and You the audience are supposed to Want them to get together, it's important to not write the story in such a way that makes the audience Not want them together. And when you're writing a story where one of the person, knowing full well they're doing this, lies about significant aspects of themselves and who they are while also trying to pursue a non-casual relationship with them either platonic or romantic with no sufficient excuse about why they're doing it, you're writing one of the two people the audience needs to be on board with being together just. Being an Asshole. Full stop.

Especially if they know the other person have a crush on them, they see each other in another setting (school) and have no indication to believe they are not straight, but that last thing would make no difference about them still lying. Unless you give that character enough of a reason on why they can't but do that, if they have any freedom to not lie to who they want to be friend and/or partner with, they are fullstop an asshole who you don't in any way want to get together with the other person in the end. (I'm talking about normal romance plots and their audience, not toxic romance stories and their audience, which by definition need the opposite to happen to get the story they want ofc).

All manga I previously read with the same premise as kinioto had this issue, which honestly I don't think it's that wild to understand and correct, but apparently it is lol. So kinioto fortunately is at least miles away better in this regard for a number of reasons, but it's not exactly perfectly ideal either because while it does try to set up an excuse for koga to act this way and it's technically a solid one, for now it has been expressed in very vague and wishy-washy ways that don't sit as well with me.

We have an entire bonus chapter about Koga being bullied for her gender non-conformity with Ryhthm B, which would give her a very solid case against being an asshole (she's just a temporary and involuntarily one.) If the issue is that she was very afraid that, by saying the truth, aya would not care to keep being friends and would had no reasons to keep to herself Koga's gender-nonconformity, so Koga was afraid of the consequences of the whole school knowing, plus the story telling me there's trauma in there, her lack of any other platonic relationships and loneliness, general self-worth issues, being Gay(tm) and wanting to interact with aya, but also still looking only for a platonic relationship (or it'd be way way worse to justify), and being a teenager with no idea about what she's doing, it's a reasonable amount of leeway.

None of this excuses Koga from lying to Aya but it does paint a picture of her not Being an asshole, just accidentally acting asshole-y, which give her the opportunity to stop not too long after they become friends, repair the damage and do better later.

Another thing it does right is that Aya is Pissed when she finds out, and for good reason. It's still kinda eh that she's doing a 180 so quickly after the school concert and I'd have preferred if she had more time to reflect but still, at least the story says it was fucked up and aya is obviously angry at being lied to constantly by someone that knew she had a crush on them and that Aya thought Koga was a guy but said nothing while pretending to be said guy. There was no romantic relationship previous to this, they were just starting to be friends, and Koga asks her to start anew with their friendship after doing something she was terrified of doing as goodwill. Works fine enough in these circumstances.

Given it's very crucial that one of your protagonists doesn't become an asshole accidentally while you write it's important for Koga's motivation to lie to be sufficient to bear the weight of this premise. And until know she only vagued about being afraid Aya would not want to be friends with her, a very dumb thing to say since if you're lying 1. she's not actually friends with You, 2. she won't want to be friends once she eventually finds out, and if she's in the position of not finding out she's barely a friend, more like a casual acquaintance. The reasons Koga gives to why she's afraid of saying the truth doesn't do enough to escape the asshole allegations, it's either she's an asshole or she's Dumb of Ass in a way that's not well-written trauma induced and it's just random Idiot Ball induced. As I said Rhythm B thankfully starts to give a solid reason on why she would want to lie, but while I can infer it from there, this is too crucial of a point to leave only as a subtext sorta-text vague contradictory thing, and I need it to be fleshed out more so that it's unmissable that that's the reason she's lying, and that said reason is solid. If now there'll be any exploration of her issues we may be getting this clarity that would retroactively solve this half-issue for me.

Ok I'll stop typing about shit we don't even know will happen, peace