#like. ik it can be hard to look at. bc its Meant to be

[pumpkinsy0]

can you make headcanons of the gang learning creole from the shepards??

anon,,,r u,,,,🇭🇹🇭🇹🇭🇹🇭🇹???🤨🤨 /lh

BUT OF COURSE!!!! the gateway to get me to answer any ask is to make it about the shepards and them being haitian i swear

•ponys already ahead of most of em bc he hangs out w curly a lot, hes picked up a few words and phrases

•i already hc that darry knows french bc he learned it in school so hes like the one having the least amount of problems w learing kreyòl

•if u didnt know, kreyòl has some words from spanish and african languages and i hc johnny to be half mexican and steve is african so sometimes they recognize it and theyre like that one wojack of that guy pointing

•im gonna be so fr its rlly only tim taking it seriously and teaching em, angelas only teaching them bad words and curlys flirting w pony, stupid ik but its happening much to the dismay of literally everyone

•when it comes to kreyòl, how u say it is how its spelled and two bit swore he would get this shit the first try and then he didnt, he barely getting it on his tenth bc he had to be explained that its said how its spelled using the HAITIAN alphabet, he was just using the regular ass alphabet the whole time

•then it opened up an argument of “then its not rlly said how its spelled” w two bit and literally everyone else but we’ll ignore that

•darry learned french in high school and he was barely grasping that fuck ass gendered language bc why is a table a girl, and he was so mentally prepared to have to do the same w kreyòl but when tim told him kreyòl isnt gendered and its rlly only context based so to say “he, she, it” is “li” and to say “they” in plural is “yo” , ik he jumped for joy, he was so tired

•back to kreyòl being spelled how u say it, when pony learned that curlys heart jumped to his ass cause ponyb started writing down what curly said and asking tim to translate, everytime he gets caught tim just gives him a look and curly pretends hes smug about it but he is not, hes shitting his pants as we speak

•i hc dallas to be russian and he already has a BIT of an accent when speaking english but when it comes to him actually talking in kreyòl its even more obvious cause ur not rlly supposed to pronounce the r’s but he literally keeps on doing it over and over somewhat in a russian accent on accident, and now tim just chuckles a bit when dally speaks kreyòl

•also i JUST remembered i also hc sylvia as haitian, so dallys also getting some help from her but also hes learning kreyòl bc he wants to know wtf she says under her breath when theyre in arguments

•i would say also bc he wants to know what tim says in arguments, but tim will gladly translate for him, however also some insult r just,meant for kreyòl, it literally only hits hard in kreyòl so he doesnt rlly translate those ones, but when he tells sylvia she laughs at dally and tells him what it means

•she also giggles at dally speaking kreyòl hes getting bullied at every angle

•i say this w sm love but dally and soda cant rlly read all that well, they were those kids that took a bit of time reading during popcorn reading and yknow what, no hate about that here, still love em the same, but sometimes tim lets them read something in kreyòl and theyre stuttering SO bad

•i joke about pony not knowing shit in kreyòl, but pony and curly speaking in kreyòl to each other guys,,,pls,,listen to me here,,,,i need it</333

•angela taught them some songs in kreyòl ill hold onto this hc till i die

okok im stopping myself here before this gets any longer but pls know i will be going insane about this later

[mx-paint]

.

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

[starfxkr]

no i understand u about femininity like i was raised by a single mom so you would think i would be on the inside, but she immigrated here from el salvador when she was 15 and never stopped working since. it's understandable why she didn't really teach me how to be "feminine" whatever that means. i taught myself how to wear makeup and paint my nails and do things "girls" do. i also grew up with 2 older brothers so i never really got to be a princess, i was practically a little boy for the first few years of life. i can understand that feeling of being on the outside of femininity. like in middle school too all the girls i wanted to be friends with let me hang around but i was always on the outside, a couple steps behind trying to understand the joke (like 70% sure i'm on the spectrum but thats a different conversation). i'm very fortunate now to have many girl friends who help me redefine femininity everyday. i still feel bad sometimes bc ik i'm never gonna be the girl who wears mini skirts and heels everyday, but i'm working on my definition of femininity bc it's subjective like love (however i do wish sometimes i was just programmed to be hyperfem it would make this shit a LOT easier). on a related note, my kitty!reader moodboard is mostly her serving chicana cunt like she dresses like a fly adam sandler and her face is beat and she has on all her gold jewelry. bc she's just a girl and wants to be comfortable AND cute when she's running from the cops.

this was a lot but JUST KNOW YOU ARE A GIRLS GIRL IN MY BOOK MOON!!!

-a girl who might not be called a girls girl

see u get it...I have lots of complex feelings about it ive been in a subculture thats considered THEE hyperfeminine subculture since I was 11 but it's changed so much to the point its unrecognizable and I sometimes feel unwelcome in a subculture that I was now of the ogs of its so strange....

and lots of my feelings about it rlly stem from my mom being a tomboy growing up so I had to teach myself and then im black so thats another layer of not feeling feminine enough AND THEN like while I appreciate the girly pink hyperfem look it just does not appeal to me in my personal life? I think thats why I relate kitten and foxy the most as someone who's a pretty rough/vulgar girl and ive always been weird so it's like....would love to be a cute bunny girl but cursed to be a weird kitten girl....like I feel like my personality isn't all nice and sweet and its like hm is that a failure of myself or a failure of those who have made me feel less that because of it

like all of these are from the Pinterest board and its like yea! this is how I view myself and its feminine to me ....but I know it's hard dealing w the cognitive dissonance

but anyways I say all this to say ty for getting what I meant I was so tired and I felt like I wasn't conveying myself properly

[joycon]

one of my favourite compliments ive ever received that wasnt from someone close to me, came from some dude at the vegan cafe i used to work at, and it was on a no makeup day too, before i like started going full butch so it was unusual that i wasnt wearing SOMETHING on my face, but it was in the middle of a HOT fucking summer and that cafe had no ac

but he came up and paused and was like "wow you have the most gorgeous eyelashes. you have beautiful eyelashes" and it was so nice bc id never really thought that hard about my lashes beyond "i hate wearing mascara it feels gross" and also bc he like. wasnt being weird at all. like usually i get kind of nervous when men make comments about my appearance but he was just like seemingly very impressed w my eyelashes??

like i didnt even know how to respond i was just like flustered i guess bc it was such a genuine and sweet compliment. like such a specific thing but considering how much i depended on makeup to feel work ready it really just meant a lot. i think about it all the time when i look at my eyelashes or do my makeup for events

i usually compliment people pretty freely bc ik an offhand "your makeup/hair/outfit/etc. is so cool!" might be like whatever for me to just hand out but if it makes someone else smile i feel like ive won something. idk why some men are so whiny about how "you cant compliment a woman these days" when its like.

you can. you really can. just dont fucking objectify them?

[vaguely-yandere]

i want a yandere to cut up fruit for me bc i lauv fruit!!

makes me think of a wifey yan!! (i use wifey as a general adjective for like. a doting, housekeeper-ish person!! not meant to be gendered, kinda like girly yan!)

a yan who takes care of you, who prepares your lunches for school together, is at your house more often than not, cleaning and cooking and doting on you!! maybe they’re also a childhood friend who’s very comfortable with taking care of you and being around you at all times!! i know you would probably get sick of this typa yan chami, bc ik you mentioned you’re very independent!! (waaaa so cool :000) but imagine you voice this independence in some way; maybe you tell them straight up that they’re being too overbearing, or you begin coming home later (knowing that they’re already there waiting for you, with dinner and a warm bath drawn and ready), or maybe tensions snap when they greet you at home on a cold day, with what seems to be…someone else’s scarf wrapped around your neck. someone who maybe also cares about you as much as they do. you’re nuzzling into it a bit, and your cheeks are a little flushed.

they don’t like that.

-sunny :3

aaaa a housewife yandere.... theyre so violent by nature! not with their darling of course but with anyone who dares mess up their perfect little life!

they cook, they clean, they make sure everything is perfect for you and to make the plot more interesting, they arent even your partner! theyre just a friend! they have a delusion they are and when youre off working, they love going into your room and imagining they share it with you <3 make your bed like its gonna have two people sleeping it in, sometimes 'misplace' their clothes and hang them up in your closet, put their toothbrush right next to yours, anything that makes it look like you two are married!

they even attend work events with you! attached to your side, holding your arm or hand, well... anyone would mistake you two for a couple! housewife yandere just laughs while you awkwardly laugh along and kindly correct the stranger but housewife is screaming on the inside. sometimes, when theyre running errands, theyll even put a big flashy ring on their hand and 'casually' bring you up in conversation, saying your their partner <3 working so hard for them! they just want a happy, married life!

better hope you dont want kids cause they absolutely will kidnap one or more for you but dont worry, they only take kids who are up for adoption!

i bet they have a little yandere club too, that they call their 'book club' so they get all of their tips and tricks from there! a very morbid version of a housewife monthly type of thing. and if you start dating... well, the book club wont even bat an eye when your yandere asks how to get blood out of their grout.

youve known housewife your entire life! theyre your best friend! you two are so close and you even joke about being soulmates! so when you start gushing about someone from work while they take your coat off and lead you to the bath... well, they plan on bringing you your lunch tomorrow just so they can size up their competition and i just know theyve got connections. a local butcher who is more than willing to rent them space in their freezer, another housewife from down the street who has a partner that enjoys collecting weapons, so many friends who will keep an eye out for any 'suspicious' activity, even some housewife friends who are more than willing to say theyve been seeing your crush hanging around their childrens schools!

i also imagine housewife yandere to be very.. functional! unlike sensitive yandere, they dont mind other people and even have a pretty good social life! they even have a few farmer friends who wont even bat an eye if they show up with a body bag full of 'pig food'. but if someone threatens their fantasy... well, no one suspects the poor little housewife! while you mourn over the loss of a date or friend, housewife yan is right there holding you close and whispering reassurances. hell, theyll even show up to the funeral and offer to bring over a few meals to the deceased's family! no one even notices theyre hateful looks towards the casket!

[blueiight]

noble fujoshi paladin... choose violence!!! for Utena (3, 9, 13, 19, 24, ik it's a lot so pick whatever u want)

3.) screenshot or description of the worst take u seen on tumblr

okay yk how tumblr will like throw random posts from ppl u dont follow on ur dash just cuz u post about a topic a lot? before i (somewhat) figured out how this app worked that feature tormented me. n i seen someone frame juri& shiori’s ending as if juri was being freed from some evil controlling abusive fake gay bitch when if anything, following the show’s ending juriori ends on somewhat of an optimistic note? u literally have ruka’s episode end with ‘wish as hard as u can, and they may know ur feelings’ with shiori walking behind juri and juri slowing down to let her catch up & shiori end up w/ a locket of her own in the badminton scene watching juri and utena play the game w/ envy. this isnt so much what that person thought so much as (read to me as) shiori coming to terms with her love for juri w/o wanting to ‘beat’ her at the game of vulnerability or ‘destroy the me in her glare’, and juri being open with herself in a way she before this never allowed herself to be. the juri we were introduced to dont wanna be saved, shes stewing in her own misery & simultaneously lords her own misery over other’s heads. she thinks shes better than the other duelists bc she has no immediate evident need for anthy, but believed her own feelings for shiori were so impossible to realize that a miracle (& anthy as the object of such, the facilitator of this ‘ miracle ‘) was needed to realize such. and that makes juri an amazing character. i find with juri especially that people tend to project their own pasts onto her which is fair but it dissuades them from analyzing her as a character in a narrative which is so sad cuz her arc w shiori (& ruka even) is so fascinating… the girls may have more in common w blueberry touga than they think in wanting to ‘save’ juri here lolol

13.) worst blorboficiation

i had to look up what that word meant LOL but i feel like fans dont talk about utena’s own arc w/ the same sophistication that they do the other characters which is crazy cuz its literally a show about her. its part of my own motivation for an eventual rewatch , bc her arc is so amazing but ppl just think shes a complete dumbass & a jock when shes really a teenage girl whos trapped n is the victor of all of the duelists bc she grows to become aware. of where she failed and is unafraid to face her flaws in a way very few characters r able to become cognizant toward. imo nanami was the closest to ‘revolution’ outside of utenanthy bc she was the closest to realizing her flaw but couldnt accept being ‘ordinary’ in a way utena did. and utena’s victory, their destruction of the castle + self deigned exit from the narrative in the finale spawns everyone else’s eventual path to liberation. shes just my little boy 🥲🥲🥲also everybody wants to be an anthy or utena girl but theyre more like juri or blueberry touga than they think. soz!

24.) topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

sexuality HCs + in a similar vein, racialization of these characters… also ppl who think bc their fav cartoon derived some aesthetic inspo from rgu or general shoujo looks that rgu is just a cute kid’s show lol. also also ppl who completely shit on the rgu manga& chiho saito like. do they know she worked on the anime??

[yakeisoda]

Hello, just wanna start this off by saying that I love your art. I've decided to ask my favourite artists for art tips as I wanna get into it, but no matter what I do it never looks right. So, any tips?

HELLO TYSM!!! ngl i dont think im the best 4 this question im also kinda in a rut rn where im not really satisfied w my art n craving more progress and improvement but im getting there somewhat but very slowly! (ive been this way for a rly long time naow) this might be long but im gna try n throw in the things ik, sorry if my thoughts r messy im not the best in articulating stuff :')

i think a good way to start off is to find out what skill you lack the most or what you want to improve the most on, say for ex: u wna focus on getting better at composition for illustrations, then a good way to improve them is to learn about the composition rules (ex: rule of 3rds, etc), look for any scenes in films/animation or photographies and storybooks , study them and recreate it! go crazy !! ive done a study on a friend's picture before, and have asked my friends if i can use their photographies as practice!

looking for inspiration will also improve ur visual library, they can help u find what u wna put in ur art ! like perhaps certain color palettes or styles, it's best to look at different mediums of art instead of focusing only on one, sometimes u can find techniques meant 4 u! (ex: of this is my friend who used to be a watercolor artist, ive observed them using watercolor techniques when they were still new to digital art! basically mix n match whatever feels good/convenient 4 u :] )

disciplining urself is also good to have more improvement! i have trouble w this the most ever since bc its hard 2 focus if no one is like there to monitor u (in my experience), if u rly wna make progress u have to squeeze in some art practice time in ur schedule, it can be around 15-30 mins or even 3 hrs, completely up to you! (rmb to take breaks!). you can give urself deadlines if that will help n maybe timers too!

my prof always said "Proper practice makes perfect", so it's also best to practice with a clear goal in mind, take notes on the things u lack and if ur watching any art tutorials/speedpaints, take notes of those too! it's good to have something specific in mind so u wont get lost n u wud know what u wna do! it helps u retain info as well so u can look back on stuff, to avoid overwhelming urself u can just focus on small bits first, ex: in anatomy, u can focus on the head area first, break it down to drawing eyes and noses, etc! then u can move onto the torso area!

USE REFS!!!! make use of pinterest or any other refs u can find, cannot stress this enuf go crazyyy w references, make a moodboard full of referencess n go crazzyy w them!! i used to not like doing this bc i just head straight in to drawing bc thats what i was used to but art college trained me 2 use refs bc they help so very much, theyre like ur guideline for what u wna make so u have a clear goal in mind, also photobashing seems like a great practice too never tried it but yes it can help when ur planning an illustration/concept art!

^above also applies to art styles! go crazy n experiment w them!! i think its so very fun to explore diff art styles n not stick to 1, again this depends on u but having a different range of artworks is rly fun, u can go from very pastel soft colors n style, to smth very vibrant n sharp, to smth like dark n chalky-sketchy kind of vibe if im making sense T__T, basically go wild!! go crazy!! dont let urself sit in 1 box! hop into other boxes !! or wear all of them!! or poke holes in the box n add stuff to the box or wear a circle!! trust me it looks so fun if u put different artworks uve made side by side n go wow i did that!!

also create small thumbnails 4 illustration! its really best to plan ahead art too, as i said i used to just head straight in n not plan but ive learned to absolutely enjoy planning making art! collecting refs n seeing what kind of composition goes n what colors wud work is so very fun actually! it rly helps a lot

theres also this one post i lost the link, but basically it shows how much progress u can make if u make loose sketches vs full on rendered illustrations vs a mix of both, again this depends entirely on u bc things r different for everyone! i think that post is really good for teaching abt art progress (if any1 knows where it is pls do link!), i think focusing on sketches n practice is better tho bc it helps u draw more freely n loosely! i think that speeds up ur process more as well n doesnt make u lose interest immediately compared 2 focusing on finishing 1 big rendered illust (talking from experience) but then again its different for every1 so honestly just experiment n see what feels right for u!

i wna say tho that although it is good to make sure ur drawing looks right its also good to just let yourself draw freely, i think what matters is that u understood the structures of something and as long as ur able to apply that in ur own way i think thats gud! i think drawing freely helps u draw more fluidly? like having more expression is what i mean. ive gotten into the "i have 2 make this look right" hole before n i noticed it made my art look stiff, so highlyy recommend doing gesture drawing n life studies! rmb to have fun when practicing n learning,

dont pressure urself too much! enjoy the experience :] ! messy sketches r good!! not everything has to look good or perfect! my sketchbooks from way back were just doodles, pencil sketches no color mostly, theres an occasional lined one w markers , ballpen, n some highlighters, n my drawings were either smth funny that happened w me n frens with our personas or making ocs for my faves or ocs for me in general!

ur sketchbook doesnt have to look pretty its like ur diary but its art ykno! ur thoughts in visual form for the day! (again all up to u as long as u have fun! its all different 4 everyone!)

anw tysm again!! sorry if this was all over the place HAHSAW i tried my best but these r the tips i keep in mind most of the time or the ones i hold closest to me n that i try to apply as much as i cud! if u need anything else clarified just lmk! not the best w words but hopefully it helps :'')! most of the stuff i mentioned here i also need to take into practice HAHWHAW so mb its gud 4 me to write this down so i can finally push myself to do stuff,

[astralibrary]

another year another silan portrait babey.... a few days late this time but we still ballin'

i've been very into manga cover design lately (studying them, making my own, etc) so it only felt right to incorporate that into this year's portrait, right? and go way overboard designing the entire front, back and spine including a blurb and barcodes and retail/publishing info, right?? and then go all in on making a matching japanese version with its own alternative blurb and barcode area bc u can't have one without the other, right?? obviously!!!!

like i said i've been really into manga design-

thoughts & details belooow

funnily enough this ended up being an actual portrait again after i did away with them in favor of illustrations in recent years, but ig it's fitting since this is the 10th one, right? (more on that later i wrote this out of order-) a callback to the first one all those years ago... the other reason it's a portrait is bc art has been fighting back lately and a full illustration probably would have been a lot; most importantly tho i just thought this composition would make for a cool dramatic manga cover heh heh

anyway bro the impossible happened i fully rendered flowers AND completed the portrait this year hello??? this has never happened since the v first year wait i just checked it happened in 2019 too this has not happened since 2019 wowie!!!! i put my whole ass into those flowers pls observe them (except the tall purple ones don't look too closely at those. look at the pansies they're my fave ♥️)

this year we have morning glories taking center stage, surrounded by pansies, forget-me-nots, some kind of nondescript purple perennial or perhaps lavender, and some kind of pink blossom (idk that one was just a space filler). don't ask abt the random petals on his mouth & collarbone uhh theres some kind of flowering tree growing just offscreen it's possible

anyway the morning glories are significant bc they represent sythra, silan's twin sister; in my mind her colors are blue & yellow and it seemed like such a good fit, so i'm officially adding it to the Flower Lore (there is no flower lore)

there is, however, Twin Lore; silan's eyes are brown and sythra's are blue, but when they're telepathically linked their left eyes exchange color (so silan's becomes blue & vice versa). the flowers here are meant to represent that, like sythra isn't here but at the same time silan carries her with him wherever he goes... smth like that

the plot described in the blurb is like, sort of what happens but i simplified things for the sake of a neat little fake manga blurb. nobody asked me to do this yet here we are. if i were being realistic abt it this would probs be like vol 2 BUT i made it the 10th volume bc this is?? the 10th silan portrait??? i did the first one in 2014?? hello??? time is fake (my hc is that it's a slice of life club manga about flower pressing for the first 9 volumes but it pivots hard in vol 10 bc the author got so sick of drawing flowers no i am not projecting-)

now regarding the japanese version: i tried my best*

*(if u or a loved one know japanese ur not allowed to make fun of me ok orz i used 姉妹 bc theres no way for silan & sythra to know who's the older twin & idk what u would do in that situation like do u just pick one & go w it or is there another hierarchy-neutral word for sister, 姉妹 is the best i can do w my limited knowledge and even then it probably just sounds like silan is having twin girls which like good for him but even so if i sound like a dork keep it to urself ok but actually do tell me if u know bc i would like to Learn ik this is probably the least of my worries when it comes to that entire paragraph but rn we are just going to focus on the issues i know about and pretend that everything else is fine as is ok thank u for ur time & have a lovely day ur a star ⭐️)

misc fun facts aka u learn how unhinged i was abt this:

the title is May 16th bc that's just what silan's story has always been called. luckily i have that up my sleeve or i'd have had to come up w smth out of my ass like The Silan Portrait or some shit

the author and publishing company are both called astralibrary yes that's me (it has a nice ring to it as a manga publisher name don't u think). i made up the logo on the spot it's my best work. especially the one in the bottom right of the japanese bar code area where i just typed the name and put a star next to it bc that makes it look professional somehow

i stole borrowed the barcodes from existing manga i have good pics of (bc i have an entire folder in my gallery dedicated to manga covers & jpn typography, unrelated); the english one is hanako-kun vol 4, and the japanese one is after the rain vol 10. i changed all the numerical codes tho (variations on the date 5/16 repeating)

i made up the english prices but i picked ¥640 specifically bc that's the price of the natsuyuu volumes i have in my manga covers folder, my only possible point of reference,

rated teen even tho in my mind it'd be targeted more towards young adults; it doesn't have anything in it that would warrant a mature rating but it does feel strange to categorize it in this way even knowing these ratings don't necessarily dictate the target audience

i thought about messing around w the design of the japanese version more to reflect some of the design sensibilities i've observed in japanese manga, like different placement of the text on the cover or a different spine entirely (since they tend to differ a lot between jpn and eng versions)- i even thought about trying to design an obi (long strip of paper that wraps all the way around the bottom portion of the book, usually has announcements & promotional stuff on it), but that is a whole ass project for another day i think this'll do just fine for now skdjlfkdg

and there u have it, thank u for reading my yearly essay abt drawing i did! sometimes u need to go aaaaaa about smth u drew and that's ok 👌

---

edit: oh yea i forgor i should write transcriptions of the blurbs here we go

ENGLISH

Alone with his thoughts? Not necessarily...

Silan has finally discovered the source of the mysterious voice in his head- the long lost twin sister he never knew he had...?! She calls herself Sythra and she has a serious grudge against him- but they need each other in order to uncover the hidden truths about their past.

Why didn't they know about each other? How were they separated? Why can they hear each other's thoughts?

And... What else don't they know?

-

JAPANESE

双子の姉妹がいる⁉︎

サイランは頭の中の声の衝撃的な正体を知るーーどうやら双子の姉妹がいるらしい⁉︎しかも、なぜか嫌われているようで…頑張れ、サイラン！

どういうわけか、この二人は謎に満ちた過去の答えを一緒に見つけるでしょう。

なぜお互いのことを知らなかったのか？どのようにして離れ離れになったのか？なぜお互いの考えを聞くことができるのか？そして…他に知らないことは…？

待望の第10巻がついに登場！

INTENDED TRANSLATION:

I have a twin sister?!

Silan learns the shocking identity of the voice inside his head- apparently he has a twin sister?! And what's more, for some reason she seems to hate him... Hang in there, Silan!

Somehow, these two will find the answers to their mysterious past together.

Why didn't they know about each other? How did they get separated? Why can they hear each other's thoughts?And...what else do they not know...?

The long-awaited 10th volume is finally here!

[voidcat]

no attachment (scaramouche/reader modern au fic)

(right after the events of ch4)

a/n: posting this rn bc ive not been going thru a writers block? tbh its so hot and humid here even sleeping feels like a chore so i spend the day just idly existing. ik this series had some ppl on the taglist so i'll post this little "chapter synopsises" thing of sorts, hope u enjoy

after this spending more time outside classes, sharing lunch etc. one day after class he sees u leaving instead of staying for library, u say u will join a gig. he invites himself to it basically. it's a gig of kazu and his band. kazu is... shocked to say the least when he sees scara next to u right at the front row. u introduce scara to kazu and the rest of the band (xiao, venti, aether)...

(implied time skip) scara joins u more often to ur friends outings. one day u straight walk behind the scene n he's confused. u explain normally u help them w makeup etc before gigs. cue a not so obviously jealous scara when you do xiao's eyeshadow.

xiao and scara bonding over their irritation at childe (scara just dislikes the guy, xiao hates that he keeps flrting w his dad/older brother. i ddint decide if zhongli will be a father figure or older brother, leaning towards the latter)

venti organizes a party, scara joining as well. he insists on drinking games, to which everyone ignores until alte hours. u explain to scara thats how it always goes. he makes a comment abt the tense air as u both r in the kitchen preparing drinks, u say "probably because we are the only single people here." it may b at the end of this chapter that u two share a kiss at the end of the night, then fr the followng week, u avoid him

implied more parties/going out. u "crying over" the news of yanfei "the elle woods wannabe???" (venti laughing in th bg: ehehe yeah they were crshing on her hard). going out to a pub w venti hu tao and yanfei, scara goes for a breath of fresh air. as hu tao and yanfei buy drinks, u mumble about wishing a love like theirs, venti says smt along the lines of u already having that and "havent you seen how that puppet looks at you" before u can ask what he meant, scara comes back, swinging an arm over the back of the cushions/ur shoulders, youre tense bc of ventis comment, "hey you alright?" "were you smoking?" "last i checked, i didnt need your permission for what to do." (he excuses himself, and comes back a minute later smelling of perfume, supressing the scent of smoke lmao)

u receive an untitled email w no attachment whatsoever to ur personal email address saying "he's not who he says he is" (or "who he acts he is") u drop the topic tho it unnerves u.

during one of the friend getaways u were leaving in a hurry, refusing to give a clear answer to what it was, scara offered to drive u, u only allowed him til a certain point. kazuha is worried bc u two always shared ur lives w the other. anyways theres nt much of a mystery u are seeing a therapsit but dont wanna explain why u started in the first place, only ningguang knows.

i think another party or beach house type of getaway but w ur friendgroup. esp u and venti get drunk on the night of arrival, waking up w a hangover, meanwhile kazu urges everyone to join him for a morning scretching/sport to freshen. scara rolls his eyes yet is the only one to keep up to kazu, until ur voice draws his attention. "you traitor! i cannot believe you didnt even tell me" snatching a thermos from ventis hands, u start drinking it, kazuha just groans: "mother was right, you are a bad influence" he says abt venti "um excuse me! give credit where its due, he only thought of that bc i yelled it to his face and suggested a good thermos." you say. (unless its clear, the thermos contains of a cold alcoholic drink) scara snatches the thermos from ur hands basically and u have to join the rest w morning jogging. the beachhouse thingy ends w u and scara walking side by side by the shore, u psuhing him tot he water and he grabs ur wrist, pulling u with him. cue simp mode scara pov when u both reemerge and he thinks under the full moonlight youre the mst beaut,ful thing he ever sees.

scara shows up to kazu one day asking advice regarding u, while holding a cat. kazu sighs, seeing scara wont leave, he opens the door n lets him in. some muttering abt how he's awful if he is trying to learn abt u to change how he acts bc a relationship based on a faked identity is no-no then he mumbles "well lucky for you you dont need to o much as their type seems to include [idr what exact phrase i had for this srry but he was basically insulting scara]", then beaten to curiosity, kazu asks whats up w the cat and scara holds the cat out to kazu "dont you think it looks like him (tomo)" (the cat is sand colored) "it followed me all the way to ur place"

some event for children of big names, for the first time (in years?) you and kazu will attend. scara is basically ur partner for it. at the beginning u push away the wine served (catered by dawn winery) (again a line i dont rmr but u insult the wine, claiming dandelion wine isnt even real wine or smt??) at one point interviwerers snatch u and scara away separetely, u get away a lot sooner, as u wait by the window, u can see the reflection of red hair, turning your back, u walk to his direction (away) and whisper "i hope you have found the closure you were desperately looking for" before diluc can say a thing, scara shows up w a hand on your waist "darling, there you are. what a bore it is here, why dont we go to that place you've been wanting to check out?" idk probs gonna spend the night w scara and sleep tgt, he gets... lowkeyish possesive during it lol... (just basking in the knowledge that he has u more than the other 'sore losers' ever did? or smt like that. idk could make more sense if in ur past 'relationship' w diluc u both always used a condom type of protection while w scara its penetrative sex basically.)

the beginning of conflict/reveal of it (from this bit on it is less planned as ive had this idea more recently. og plan was to have the event w diluc as final followed w more or less makin things official w scara. the beach house ch was supposed to have u refuse him, saying u "dont do love" and him going onthis rant abt how ur fear is illogical bc u wont be the only one vulnerable in a relationship...)

probably that night or the next, still at scaras, as it gets darker one drink afteranother u bth r more or less drunk, him more than u. then bfore realizing, he starts going on this weird rampant, his words making no sense: "u know i hate(d) you right? never got why ppl love u or ur brother so much. perfect children of perfect beidou and ningguang, beloved by everyone, beloved by their mothers, their friends" basically slurring speech and kinda revealing he first 'befriended' u w the intentions of having fun/messing w u since despite being 'perfect' u looked so lonely (and that 'im nt doing that' commen got him pissed. "who goes around calling people 'that' huh) scara rant goes on abt how he had to go fall for both perfect siblings "wow what a joke huh" and a little "i dont even get why im like this nowadays. idek why i rushed that way to get those notes and drove at 200kph to get back to the library for u" (basically drunk scara more or less jealous of u and kazu, emotional management problems, problems of realizing he has emotions, also it clicks to u that the guy kazu hated in his hs is scara)

scara wakes up to an empty bed, unable to contact u. it was at the end of the term so any excuse he uses to see u, they fail. rumors of u joiing ning for an internship, he tries to see u, only to be met w security. (he may or may not throw rpcks at the door like that cat tiktok. security dialing u/ning, scara in the bg "open the door or ill throw rocks at ur window" "u already are!" "i mean ur bedroom window" "wh-HOW DO U KNOW WHERE I LIVE". scara tries to reach out to kazu bc he is clueless why he is being ignored (he was VERY drunk, while his words sobered u up like a slap) kazu: politely tells him to fuck off.

scara finds a way in bc ei and ning wll have a meeting n scara pulls the elder child/shareholder card to insert himslf to the meeting, lil sister raiden is Not happy "i can become ceo long before you can so suck it up already". scara and u staring down at one anıther during the meeting, "talking" at the end, basically having to pull the curtains down bc the offices may be soundproof but theyre still made of glass n everyone can se eu two fight. then scara says to at least allow him to help u, sayng he knows abt the weird email u got and someone might b trying to frighten or corner u to give up ur shares.

idk basically working tgt w scara to find out who did it. he suspects one of the "harbingers". "arent you a harbinger as well?" "i keep my shares as a powermove, i dont want anything to do w their stupid company." so idk either dottore or childe gonna b the one who was mpre or less creeping u w the emails (u did receive more after ur breakapart w scara).

as i said the bits from drunk past confessions forward r fairly new so i dont have everything planned but basically u... more or elss tolerate scara (dont forgive him entirely) and he gotta work thru his issues basically (aka accepts that he has issues aaand hes kind of a simp, hes desperate to be loved lmao)

[wobspots]

Toyhouse progress log #3

(this is from two days ago, may 26th. i just got too lazy to post here at the time)

i spent the whole day coding/organizing things!

first i finished filling in that directory template from yesterday, but halfway through i knew it wasn't what i wanted. still, i finished it for practice and bc its nice to see it all working and with my images and whatnot x33 i still left it as the default page that opens when you access "characters", since it looks so nice.

also! i realized in the middle of making the gifs to put in this entry that i can just paste the code as it is directly onto the comment on toyhouse. tbh its so much work for little result to make the demonstration gifs just for a tumblr version of a post, so ill just skip it lol here's the link to my th comment, where i pasted the code as it was as of writing this

i do love the way it turned out, but i really wanted to have ALL my characters at easy(er) access. ideally, i'd have, like, three really simple folder pages. I tried messing with the code above to include more, but ended up just breaking everything and learned the hard way to keep backups of my code between changes lol.

so i decided to just do everything from scratch. what confuses the the most in fill-in codes is the styling and div part, so by doing something simple from the ground up i can avoid breaking the code bc i dont understand how it works! So i reorganized my folders in a way where i can group all characters from a season (in an rpg campaign) in one page, which also meant refiling my characters into those, ordering them and making character profiles for the other PCs in the party, like this:

(peep the 7hr who's lila video essay i was watching)

note to self: i should add a warning explaining the whole "characters that are not mine and not credited bc creators are ppl ik irl that have given me permission to do this but dont want to link their personal ig accs to this random furry site theyve never heard of" thing... dont think it needs to be on my profie, but maybe on the rpg folder. could also make a ribbon.

smth else i need to figure out is how im gonna make miyamoto and tanaka show up on both the seasons1n2 party folder and the season 3 party folder... i wanted to just use the raw toyhouse folder ui but i cant add a character into more than one folder... maybe i can make just the party folders in html?

so. since now i have two folders that just have other folders inside them and no characters, ill just use those to host a simple html page that looks a bit nicer and maybe explains its contents. to make it clearer, i have my rpg folders organized like this:

that means that when you open the "RPG" folder all you get is a link to the "ordem" and the "xogunato" folders. just a rlly boring unnecessary page. so what i did is i wrote some html (from scratch!!!!! look at meee!!!!!!) and made that into a prettier page, where instead of just the plain text link you get a themed image for each campaign!

once again linking to the th comment that archives how that page looked then

the other page i need to do is the "xogunato", so im thinking of even adding some text explaining what each season was and the whole "i rlly wanted this to be historically accurate and absolutely spot free of any stereotypes but i couldnt bc that is A LOT of research and reflection and energy i didnt have as a 15 y/o failing online school and barely keeping my sanity during a fucking pandemic. also i needed to make a character in 2 days bc my gm invited me last minute. and also even if i somehow just obtained that knowledge instantly it still wouldnt be enough to be 100% "clean" bc ttrpgs are collaborative storytelling and all the other players INCLUDING THE GM were absolutely NOT down to doing that work, yk, as other 15 y/os going through the same shit" context/content warning. hold on i lost my train of thought

so yeah this is what i did todayyyy!!! im rlly happy with my first big boy code hehe :3c

[sphericalbee]

bro if either of my irls see this i will look crazy pahtetic idk maybe ill delete iti should probably just leaves this ini the drafts

im pretty pathetic irl anyway i think lol wo who carse

im thinking ab my middle school best friend and i miss her so much it isnt even funny

idk if i was her best friend but i always loved her so much and i think about her almost every day even 2 years later

ik she wasnt doing well and she didnt come from a good home and was awful at managing her emotions and didnt talk to anyone and she would sh (i only know ab bc of some complicated secret poetry thing but she never knew i had seen that but i think she meant me to) and i think she cared about me? i kinda hope not bc i want her to be happy

but i would genuinely give anything to go back in time and talk to her again for just a few hours

i want to text her and tell her everything but idk its too weird after 2 years

i think she deserves to know how much i care about her,, right?

i had to pause twice writing this bc i was crying too hard i worry about her so much

its good im godo at crying silently lol no one can even tell so sneaky

i saw a girl with the same hair as her last week and i teared up in the middle of the hallway because it hit me how much i dont know what shes doing or if shes even alive bc i KNOW hse wasnt fucknig donig well

my cat was trying to comfort me but i think he got bored and left he's so cute lmfoa my brain made it into a very angsty analogy b4 i had the chance to stop it 💀

im this close to cracking and spam texting her

i googled her just now and found her linkedin profile of fucking course shes on linkedin thats so inc harecetr where she says she wants to go to medical school and she uses fucking stupid old words like candor and idk i hope she gets into her dream college

im sure she can she was always so smart i thknk shell do rly well and maybe one day shell perform open heart surgery on me lol that would be baller

"I believe in honesty because it creates an environment that permits integrity. Allowing for candor leads to an honorable work space. Integrity is an essential value to have as it holds all to a high ethical standard. Integrity adds trust, which is necessary for professionalism. I plan to enroll in a four-year college for a master's degree to study biochemistry. I then intend to go to medical school and earn a doctorate."

she fucking talked like that even at 13 yeah and she liked running and read all the time and she loved gamed of thrones and i still own one of her shitty books and we met when she was challenging classmates to race and she was so tall and had pretty hair

sophia im sorry for crying i think it would make her uncomfortable haha

i have fucking snot on my face now shed forsure be uncomfortable lmfaoo

ill go watch some tv show and try not to burst into tears again in 10 minutes ugh maybe it would be better if i had stayed depressed having this many feelings is driving me crazy why r u here bro : /

i should make a secret vent account LMFAO my followers r here for ohshc and mq not sob stories sorry sorry

[nvrtrust-naims]

i hate effort

i want to sleep

i hate effort but i hate failure more

i always push

i hate everything i can never relax

im scared to fail im scared to prove people right

i do good but never good enough

whats wrong w me i feel like theres something wrong w me i feel like everyone knows but me i feel like i was born wrong what did i do so wrong why am i disgusting sometimes i want to kill myself so badly all i can do is stare and lie down

i think i want to die again

im scared to fail at dying too i feel like i suck at everything why am i not good enough somethings wrong whats wrong i dont know and it scares me im always scared i never feel safe and when i do its fake i dont think i can keep going

i have vices but i think im ok dont i

i have to be ok or ill die

its strange that all this feeling is over something so small maybe i have a problem but im managing it well i havent attempted in months

all i can think about are my failures my inability my timing my unluckiness whats wrong with me

sometimes idk idk idk idk idk

i want to hurt myself in an indirect way so that it doesnt feel or seem like sh but i rlly know it is

thats what im doing rn

all im doing is hurting myself

sometimes i dont know myself

am i rlly exhausted and tired and burntout or am i neglecting what i need to do just to hurt myself as a punishment

im a masochist n ive been thinking abt that lately too : i dont know exactly why i enjoy pain or why i have maso tendencies but i have an idea that idk mayb i rlly am a narcissist n i just like being taken down a peg or mayb i dont love myself and i enjoy pain bc i want punishment for ever being born and for still existing

kind of like punishing my body for still breathing and pumping blood

or mayb i like the feeling of control like when im hurt the wounds are all mine n nobody can take them

when i love something/someone i hide it bc anytime that i was happy or i had something i liked it would get destroyed or thrown out

if i didnt hide what i loved it would get crushed

i had my diary read n i got beat for having my first crush n i think thats why writing in diaries n journals is difficult for me

when i moved for mayb the 4th or 5th time my teacher in elementary gave me an end of yr gift : it was lipgloss . when i put it on in the car my father grabbed it and threw it out the window

when i had hobbies they were taken away from me

i wasnt allowed outside as a kid or to have friends

sometimes ppl wonder why im "secretive" or "sneaky" but i feel like im just doing what i was taught

i was taught to hide myself bc im disgusting

ive never once wanted to live in my entire life ever since i could think ive never wanted to

i couldnt exactly point out that i wanted to die but it wouldnt take long it just felt like the right conclusion

n i still feel like all of this is over something so small

like im dumb for feeling i feel dumb i feel so stupid

im so unreliable whats wrong w me

i feel so alone but theres ppl i love n it feels like i disrespect them everytime i feel alone but what am i supposed to do idk what to do

i have to hide my emotions idk emotions are weakness is what i feel like ik its not true but its already instilled

nobody listened when i cried as a kid nobody cared i didnt even know my own name until i was 9 bc nobody said it enough

i feel like ill never be able to resolve my deeper issues bc i cant talk abt how i feel or what i want

i just go mute or i cry i just cant ive tried

it doesnt work bc im not meant to be happy

ill look back at this later n think im emo for thinking so hard over something so small

[illic1tdreams]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 ❪ 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊 ❫

𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝗠𝗬 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗞, 𝗜 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗔𝗟 𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗜𝗙 𝗜𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗘.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 : no one!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : jj maybank x fem!reader

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 : angst

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : jj uses you as a bet for money

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : crying (A LOT), heartbreak, language, fighting, drug usage, suicide attempt (pls don't do this my loves since there are so many people around you that love you and care about you, and if you need help then don't be afraid to ask for it. you guys can talk to me anytime you want, doesn't matter if its 3 am in the morning)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : this imagine is an au and it doesn't have the gold and stuff! also guys ik i haven't posted in like a month? that's bcs of school && exams and stuff so sorry about that. and ummmm i hope you like this imagine <3 and also i'm working on a pt2 of my rafe fic - forever, check it out <3 [ ps there will be a part 2 for sure ;) ]

It was impossible for you to believe that this was actually happening. It was impossible for you to grasp how someone could be so ruthless and emotionless with someone else's feelings. How could the boy you loved, the boy you thought loved you, do this to you? All you could feel at the current moment was pain and a sense of being used and betrayed. You felt as though you meant nothing to him, as if he never loved you.

You remembered the moment when everything went down, all too well. You were standing on the porch of the Chateau, listening to the shouting match going on inside, confused as to what was happening.

“You’ve gotta tell her man!” You heard John B exclaim, “This isn’t right JJ! Y/N’s in love with you for god’s sake!”

John B's words made your eyebrows furrow. What in the world was he talking about? You pressed your ear to the door, trying to listen more about what they were arguing about.

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Your boyfriend shouted at John B, “But it’s different now, I’m in love with her too! So, let’s just drop the whole thing and move on!”

“J, she deserves to know the truth, you owe her at least that much.” John B breathed deeply before looking sternly into JJ's eyes and saying, “If you won't tell her, I will.”

“What the fuck John B?” JJ growled at the brunette, "You're my friend, you can't do that.”

“You're right, I am your friend JJ, but I’m Y/N’s too.”

At the very moment, as you leaned on the door a little more hard, to listen more carefully, the door accidentally creaked open and you let out a small shriek as both of John B's and JJ's heads snapped towards you.

“Y/N? what are you doing here?” JJ looked at you startled as he asked you the question, his voice tinged with what you could decipher as panic and a hint of slight fear.

“I just came over to hang out, when I heard you guys bickering.” You eyed them both suspiciously as their demeaner had suddenly changed since they’d seen you. “What were you two talking about?”

JJ’s eyes widened, “You didn’t hear everything did you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean JJ?”

Both of them remained silent, unsure of what to say or do, and you stood there, beyond confused. Clearly, whatever the concern was, it included you, so you had a right to find out what it was.

“JJ, if you're in trouble or anything like that, you don't have to be afraid to talk to me about it,” You said to your boyfriend, who was standing in front of you, “I love you, J. No matter what happens, we'll work through it together.”

JJ glanced back towards John B, the two of them still staying silent.

You had enough.

“Okay, look, if someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on–”

“JJ used you as a bet for money,” John B blurted out, interrupting your words and shocking you.

“John B, what the fuck dude!” JJ shouted in anger, clenching his jaw and fists as he glared at the brunette boy. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I told you before itself man, she's my friend, and she deserves to know the truth,” John B put his hands up in surrender, slowly withdrawing from the furious blonde.

You were utterly dumbfounded.

It was as if your mind went blurry as you heard the words – “JJ used you as a bet for money” over and over again in your head as you felt your heart physically break inside your chest. It couldn't be true, right? There was no way JJ would do that to you. He told you himself that he loved you and that he would never hurt you.

“JJ, is it true?” you asked with a small voice filled with heartbreak and hurt, your question stifling the arguing going on between both boys, and the attention of the pair was suddenly drawn back to you. John B's words made you pray to God, hoping that they weren't true – you knew you wouldn't be able to endure such pain.

A wave of guilt overcame JJ's body as he looked at the girl in front of him. Your expression showed the depth of your hurt and JJ's mouth went dry as he remained silent, not able to find the courage to admit to the horrible thing he'd done.

JJ's silence answered your question pretty well.

“Wow . . . ” Taking a deep breath, you raked your hands through your hair and tried to comprehend the information you had just received. Heartache slipped down your face in the form of small tears which were slowly flowing down your cheeks.

“Y/N I–” JJ reached out, grabbing your arm.

It was as if a bomb had just exploded.

“Don't fucking touch me JJ,” You hissed at him, pushing him away from you. “I can't believe you would do this to me! You knew all the shit that was going on in my life, and you promised not to hurt me. You told me you loved me.”

“I did - I do love you Y/N!” JJ pleaded, hoping that you would forgive him even though the odds were pretty unlikely.

What a liar. If he loved you, then he would have never ever even dreamt of hurting you the way he did. You walked up to him – the anger, humiliation and heartbreak taking over you as you punched his chest repeatedly with both your fists.

Knowing that he deserved it, JJ didn't stop you from hitting him. Not that your punches hurt him much.

With angry tears flowing down your tan face, you yelled at him, demanding, “How could you not tell me about this before JJ? It's been a fucking six months since we started dating! And to think all this time, our entire relationship was fake, nothing but a lie.”

JJ shook his head, denying your words, “Our relationship wasn't fake Y/N. It was real, and you know that. Baby, you had me hooked from the very first date and although I knew I should've cancelled the bet, I didn't because I needed the money to pay my father back.”

You stared at him with a mixture of utter bewilderment and unbelief. He played you for six months, just because he wanted to repay his father? He toyed with your emotions and made you fall in love with him only to break your heart in the end? Absolutely ridiculous.

"Well JJ, I hope the money was worth it," You scoffed, "because if you really did love me, then you just lost the one real thing you had in your life. I'm done J. We're over. I never want to talk to you or see your face again."

Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled the flashback, and not being able to control your feelings, you broke down, sliding down onto the floor of your bathroom with your back against the door.

The fact that JJ would hurt you the way that he did shocked you. He was the only person to whom you had completely opened up to and the only person you had told about your beyond terrible life to. Taking into account what your life had been like, you thought he wouldn't hurt you, but here he was, hurting you, just like how numerous people had done before.

Another broken sob escaped your lips as your entire body trembled from the pain, you no longer being able to handle it. It was too much. You couldn't take any more of the heartbreak - the heartbreak of your parents abandoning you, the heartbreak of nearly everyone in outer banks hating you, and finally the heartbreak of the boy you loved, using you for money.

Why did JJ do this to you? Why did the only person you trusted and loved, betray you so drastically? Why did people always leave you? Why did your life always revolve around hurt and heartache?

The pain was everywhere - your heart, your head and your entire body. And all you wanted was for it to be stopped.

You suddenly remembered that you had some leftover medicinal pills in your cabinet. If you had been mentally stable, you wouldn't have done this, but for now, you couldn't take it anymore.

Getting up from the floor, you opened the topmost cabinet and grabbed the orange bottle that was sitting there, and you opened it slowly. Then you took one of the small white pills out and downed it without any second thought. And then you took another one. And another one. And another one.

It wasn't clear how many you had taken before you started to feel dizzy and the world begun spinning around you, and a few seconds later, you vision went completely dark.

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not so sure. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

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

Oh, you loved this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

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

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

“I thought he was cool before.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

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

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s true. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I kinda do—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

epi-epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mrskurono]

Can you do monster suna under the bed who’s meant to do nothing but scares you but the moment he sees you he knows he’s supposed freak you out but all he can do is stare with a new hard on because what the fuck you look like that??? So all he can do is wake you up by fucking you because his “little” problem just won’t go away when you keep grabbing onto him and gasping because it feels so good

He comes back the next day with the same problem and he wakes you up just begging to do it again and suddenly you have a little slave who just keeps begging you for that same thing every night because you make him feel so good and all he can do is brag to the twins about how cool his human is because both twins are stuck with some old man

If I violated one of your guidelines please respond with what I did so ik not to do it again sorry in advance

a/n: I love the monster!Suna under your bed thing. I really do. But I'm going to tweak it a little bc I'm not a fan of big ol' mean Suna taking what he wants trope. Just feels icky to his character and I don't care for it. But the under the bed thing I very much like!

tags: fem!Reader, monster!Suna, non con exhibition, flashing, male masturbation, dub con ish, blow job, size kink (massive monster cock), oral creampie, sub leaning reader character(s): Suna Rintarou (hq) synopsis: the big scary shadow in your room is more than the coat in the corner.

What a boring job. 

Scares and screams looked the same on every human ever. Men or women. They scared the same. Leaving Rintarou to do his job every night without even a quip of excitement to it.

Perhaps it was his deadpan expression that scared them. His long claw like nails. The slitted pupils to his dark eyes. Or the click of his hooves on the ground when he scratched his ways from under the beds of unsuspecting humans. 

Whatever it was. They all screamed all the same.

All, but you.

So pretty in bed when he drug himself from underneath your safe spot. A bed. The one place you could escape everything. And here he was to tear the screams from your lungs and perhaps even more.

What he didn’t expect though was the sprawled out figure naked in bed. Hand tucked between your legs. Clearly rubbing yourself mindlessly in your sleep. 

Unheard of the monster felt a twitch to his cock. And the click of his hooves hadn’t woke you up yet. A surprise. As Rintarou leaned forward and gorged on the sight before him. Running his forked tongue over his pale lips. Finding himself stroking his cock without a second though.

Claws curled around his length. Throbbing in his hand as he loomed over your bed. Pumping himself slowly as precum leaked from his slit. Hungry for the sight under him unaware of the groan that rumbled in his chest.

“Wha-?!” You sleep finally disturbed. Be it for the large looming shadow above your bed. Ready to scream before your eyes fell to the cock inches around from your face. What should have been a terrorized cry, only ended up as a gasp when Rintarou pressed his cock to your cheek.

“Suck it-” He growled.

A certain line of familiar fear running through your very human face.

“Suck it and I won’t kill you.” Rintarou grumbled as his cock twitched against your cheek.

Heat sweeping through your body. The promise of life was one thing. But the heavenly musky scent of his cock right there was doing more to lure you into his bidding.

Eyes still heavy with sleep. Cool air of your bedroom washing over your bare body. Goosebumps of fear and arousal popping up all over your body. You leaned forward as Rintarou offered you his cock. Lips parting as you took the tip of his massive cock between them. Far too big to ever get all of him in your mouth. It didn’t matter because the first taste of his precum spreading over your tongue left you wanting more.

Jaw stretched to its limit as you tried to take more of him. Hungry for his musky taste to fill your senses. You made the mistake of looking up with the half asleep look just to find the monster under your bed grabbing your face and holding you still on his cock. No movement but just enough your tongue could only run up and down his cock.

Drool seeping out from the corners of your mouth. Groaning around his massive cock as you felt him twitch in your mouth. Doing the best you could with your hands to stroke him. Fingers curling around the rest of his length. Wiggling in his grasp just to bob your head up and down on his cock as you moved your hands in tandem. 

Stroking him to the best of your ability as you slobbered all over his tip. Slurping up the mixture of precum and spit like your life depended on it. Lost to the sound of your gagging before the low groan from the monster above you made you realize what was happening.

Grunting and rutting his hips into your mouth. Even the heavy sound of his hooves shifting on your bedroom floor. Rintarou’s claws lightly digging into your cheeks as his hips bucked up.

The sudden flood of cum filling your senses. More than you could swallow. Desperate to try though. You sputter on his cock as the monster empties every last drop of cum into your tiny little human mouth. Until his balls are drained and his grip on your face loosens. His cum dripping down your chin and onto your tits.

When his cock finally slips from between your lips. Leaving you to sit back dazed on your bed. He looks at the mess he left on you. Feeling his cock twitch all over again. But quick to see the sun slowly creeping up to ruin his fun.

Rintarou leans down above you. Darting his forked tongue over your cheek as his slitted eyes narrow, “Be ready for me tomorrow night.”