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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Text

soundtrack

warnings: sailor language, suggestive themes/mentions of sex, drinking, nicotine use, being tipsy/intoxicated. no graphic or explicit nsfw content besides basically tonguing and giving hickeys and an ass grab.

tags: karl jacobs x fem!reader

words: 1898

A/N: i wrote this thinking that both people in this fic are of drinking age; i’m not, but i thought it would be a cool idea. i can assume many adult gatherings feature alcohol, so yeah. drinking isn’t integral to the plot of this fic. also it is pre-(or post)pandemic bc it’s just a general rule of thumb to not have parties right now.

“Don’t, kill, me,” Karl warbles, setting down his bottle with a sigh. Freaks plays loud and tinny on the TV, album cover bathing those occupying the couch in a grayish light. Those occupants being just you and Karl. The room is lit with purple string lights and that one thrifted lamp with frogs on the shade he’d sworn was the best purchase he’s ever made. You’re sprawled out on the other half of the sofa, ankles crossed and a can of vodka seltzer swaying in your hand. The song changes to 20 Min by Lil Uzi and your foot bounces to the beat.

“What time is it?” You sigh, placing the nearly-empty can onto the coffee table next to your apple berry-flavored pen. He flicks his wrist towards his face.

“2:46,” he delivers, and takes a swig of the Angry Orchard in his hand. His sixth, specifically. The rest of the group had left roughly ten minutes ago, leaving the two loneliest people to drink alone. You, thoroughly tipsy, decided it was better to spend the night on his spare than pay $50 for an Uber. He agreed, of course. Why wouldn’t he?

Lifting onto your elbows, you just stare at him. He lifts an ankle to cross over the other and your eyes drop. What is his fascination with Spongebob socks?

“We should play 20 questions.”

“What?” His head swivels like a bobblehead and a giggle barely escapes your lips.

“20 questions!” You say excitedly, heaving onto your knees to look at him earnestly. “You go first.”

“Um, okay.” The song fades into Paper Planes and he bobs his head to the beat. “What’s your favorite breed of dog?”

“Shiba inu. Are you a virgin?”

The fucking tone of your voice makes him dissolve into giggles, hand pressed to his chest. You just shrug, reaching for the pen in the table. “Fair question, I think,” you say defensively. His chest heaves, but he sits up.

“No—no, I’m not a virgin.” His cheeks are red, but he’s smiling like it was an easy answer. Your mind floods with images of his long hair in your face, long fingers—a sweaty chest. You shake your head. “Okay, my turn,” he continues, giving you a weird look. “would you rather kiss Chucky Cheese or Ronald McDonald?”

“Karl!” You whine. “That is not how 20 Questions works!” You grumpily pull from your pen, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth. Eughk. Apple berry sucks.

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. The tell-tale guitar chords of The Adults Are Talking floods the room and his face brightens with a new question. “Have you ever been to a concert?”

“Yes, actually. The Jonas Brothers in 2009.” He wrinkles his nose, finishing his cider and dropping it onto the coffee table with a sharp noise. Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you dare badmouth my boys.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” He reaches for your pen and you give it to him with a slight pout on your lips that he glances at.

“Good. Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” A grin climbs your lips.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” His eyes widen and smoke curls out of his nostrils as he hands your pen back. You just shrug and pick up your discarded seltzer. “Gimme a sec to think.”

“So many places?” You tease, finishing the last drop of your drink and crushing it beneath your palm. He shrugs, mirroring you, and cracks open another cider. He seems to think, brows furrowing, as he pulls a swig from the dark bottle.

“Boat.”

“Boat,” you repeat.

“Yup.” He looks at you, gaze flickering to your lips imperceptibly fast. If you were sober you’d probably notice, but you’re not and you don’t.

“You’ve fucked on a boat?” No way. Karl Jacobs. On a boat. Having sex. What an image—

“Yeah, senior year was great for me.” More Than A Woman fills the space of the silence as you consider this. You blink, processing.

“Whose boat?” You're genuinely curious. Was it a yacht, pontoon, fishing boat? Row boat? The sudden scene of him getting his foot stuck in a fishing net while pantless clouds your vision.

“My girlfriend’s.” And that’s that on that because he’s moving on before you can open your mouth and continue the discussion of the logistics of this. “Stop investigating, perv. Now it’s my turn. Hmm— wait! Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?” A sneaky grin is on his lips and now you just want to kiss him, damn it.

“I-Uh. I think it was under the bleachers. I also had a great senior year,” you offer, scooting forward on your knees so that you’re only a foot from Karl. He looks impressed, actually.

“Who was it?”

Your eyebrow raises in question.

“Personal question or one of the 16 left, Karl?”

His cheeks heat and he looks once to the TV.

“Personal,” he mutters into the mouth of his bottle.

“It was Brian Hernandez,” you sigh, gazing off into the distance with a fond look in your eyes. You feel the end of the game of 20 questions as you see him chew on his bottom lip from your peripheral. “Dude was insatiable. Managed girls’ basketball and looked damn good doing it.”

“I managed girls’ soccer,” he says simply, uncrossing his legs. “My girlfriend was goalie.”

“How long did you guys date?” You fold your legs up underneath you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You feel the most sober now out of all tonight.

“Dunno.” He sips at his cider. “Couple weeks maybe?”

You smirk. “Karl Jacobs puts out in the first couple weeks?” That’s hot, you don’t say. He gives you a look. “18 year old Karl was a player,” you tease, leaning forward to poke at his chest.

Smacking your hand away, he sighs and lifts a hand to tousle his hair.

“Guess he was.” Clear eyes meet yours and you take a hit from the pen that lays discarded in your palm. He watches the smoke float from your mouth. The TV screen swipes to Deceptacon and the mood quickly shifts. “So.” He turns toward you with lifted eyebrows. “You were a total nerd in highschool, huh.”

Your jaw drops. “I was not!”

“Come on; yes, you were.” He makes a face and drains half the bottle of cider. “You probably were in SpellBowl and every teacher’s pet.”

“Nice try, bitch. You were a dumb jock. I’ve seen the pictures. The yearbook pictures.” You look pointedly at his hair.

“My hair was not that bad.”

“Yes it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he grumbles and pushes his hand through his long curls. “Just a little… short.” It’s your turn to make a face.

“A buzz cut nearly to your scalp is more than short.” He huffs at you and finishes the cider just as the song switches. “Anyways.” You don’t really have anything to say, actually. Too busy thinking about teenage Karl smacking tennis rackets around and fielding lost soccer balls for his girlfriend. She’s long gone, right?

“Are you wearing lingerie?” Karl asks suddenly and you look up. He stares pointedly at your chest and you move a hand to pat at your stomach.

“Oh,” you start, and flick the last three buttons open, fabric falling to reveal a baby blue lace corset. “Yeah.” He can’t seem to stop imagining what’s underneath it. Fuck. “Do you like it?” The tone in your voice is taunting and he has to look away.

He clears his throat and places the second glass bottle onto the coffee table.

“Yes.”

You rise onto your knees and pull your arms out of the button-up, letting it fall back on the couch.

“Do you want to touch it?” You're looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes, he realizes, and you know exactly what you’re doing. You’re not asking if he wants to touch the corset; you’re asking if he wants to touch you.

“Can I?” He glances at you warily. You just nod, and it’s then that you’re shuffling forward. The material is soft on his fingertips when he brushes a hand across your torso. “Silk,” he mumbles, and stares, transfixed, at the loopy flower pattern crawling across your waist in shades of milky blue. You just hum and watch. He realizes suddenly when he traces a finger up on the ridge of the neckline that you’re not wearing anything underneath it. It makes him stop in his tracks, neck flushing. “Are-are you—,”

“Wearing a bra? No, I’m not.” You lay a hand on his shoulder, hoisting one leg over his thighs and settling down comfortable on his lap. He bristles then relaxes as you slide a hand up into his scalp. “Do you want me to show you?”

He glares at you, barely annoyed, and shifts so that his large hands rest in the curve of your waist. Poison starts in the speakers as his eyebrow raises.

“Do you normally wear corsets when we all hang out?” A lock of your hair moves past your cheek as he brushes it out of the way. His mouth tilts into a smirk. You seem to think about it, lips pursed, and grip both his shoulders in your hands.

“Only when I’ve got someone to impress.” A hand on your lower back presses insistently and you fall further into his lap.

“Who are you here to impress, Y/N?” He’s barely an inch from your mouth now, and can’t seem to keep his eyes on one part of your face. Cool breath fans onto your cheeks and they warm. God, he’s even cuter up close.

“You,” barely passes your lips before he’s taking the side of your neck into his hand and stretching to connect your lips with his own.

Cherry, you think. Cherry chapstick, that cheeky bastard. Taking your wrist in his hand, he loops it up and around his neck. You’re making a noise into his mouth, you realize, right as he’s sliding a hand down to the side of your thigh and gripping it between his long fingers. You shiver as he pulls away too soon, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before sinking his teeth into your neck. The gasp that leaves your mouth is surprisingly loud and your cheeks flush further. He just hums, pleased, and stretches an arm to the opposite side of your waist to hug you closer. Warm lips move on the skin of your neck and his tongue darts out few and far between the kisses.

“Fuck,” he breathes when your hips jerk forward once.

“Sorry,” you whisper up at the ceiling, eyes falling shut. “reflex.”

He grins against your neck and moves to grip an ass cheek in his palm.

“Your reflex to me licking a hickey is to grind into my crotch?” he teases. You just have to nod, lips parted, as he soothes another bruise with his tongue.

“Karl.” He seems to either not hear you or ignore you for he’s removing himself from your neck and connecting your mouths once more. “Karl,” you stutter between kisses, and he squeezes at your ass.

“Yes?” His lips are bitten and puffy when he pulls away, a smug look on his beautiful face.

“Take off my corset.”

He looks between your face and the lingerie, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comment what you think !

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs one shot #karl jacobs drabble #karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x fem!reader #karl jacobs fanfic #mcyt #mcyt x reader #bubblyhoneyfics

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years

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He loves me, he loves me not | Jung Sungchan

❤︎ Sungchan x female!reader ❤︎ Fluff, Smut, ❤︎ 4/4 for LOVE MONTH SERIES: Boys Don’t Cry One is a big number

One is a big number | You and your words | Sweet | He loves me, he loves me not |

Summary: The famous Jung Sungchan asked you out in front of his friends out of nowhere and you coldly turned him down but he didn’t take no for an answer. He proved his seriousness to you until you decided to give love a chance and so is Sungchan... but that didn’t take away your doubt. Until an ugly fight almost ruined your relationship.

Word count: 2,835k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, virginity loss, making out, fingering, swearing, self doubt, trust issues, couple fight, shouting at each other, mentions of break up. The smut is avoidable, btw.

A/N: PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. This is inspired by nothing, haha I just want to write something for him. This is hella short bc I didn’t want to go crazy on my first fic for sungchan haha. But I will def write more for you. Also this is reposted, bc tumblr... -_-

Supposedly for KPOPSCAPE’s Love Fools but I want to finish my Boys Don’t Cry Series already :(( huhu

Jung Sungchan is like a perfect movie. Not because it’s where you first met, but because he’s too good to be true.

Captain of the soccer team, lead the team to championships basically his whole high school life, smart, very creative, gentleman, and every girl’s dream guy.

That’s why when he asked you out, you thought it’s some kind of a joke that you turned him down right then and there in front of his friends. Even though he looked harmless and he asked you politely, still, he’s Jung Sungchan. Why would he waste his time on you?

But just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is surprising.

After you turned him down and set your mind on the quiz you’re about to take in ten minutes, he grabbed you by the wrist and did not take no for an answer.

“Okay fine, I completely understand you. Don’t say ‘no’ too soon, and let me earn your time” he said with a desperate tone and hopeful eyes and finally lets go of your hand.

“I have no idea what you’re up to Sungchan, but fine. I-I have to go to class” you said and walked as fast as you could to your next class.

On the following days that soon became weeks, Sungchan proved that he’s serious and showed it to you through pursuing you without giving you pressure, tagging along with you and your friends and instantly creating your own world together, and remind you about his intentions to you almost every day.

Eventually, after many weeks of trying, you became friends that are comfortable enough with each other. Though he’s bold with his actions and words while you continue to convince yourself that Sungchan is serious, “Just... go with it for now. I’ll wait for you to get used to us, I got all the time in the world” he says, putting strands of hair behind your ear while looking at you lovingly. He never fails to make you feel shy and secure at the same time.

“Tomorrow is a big day for me,” he breathes in deeply before he finishes his sentence and makes a big request, “I would like you to come watch me play, but only if you’re comfortable of course. If not, then at least call me after the game-“

“No no. I’ll watch you. I’ll cheer for you, wouldn’t want to miss seeing you win... again” you said and let out a shy giggle. Sungchan never asked you for anything, and you think watching his game is a good way to return the favor.

“So... you watch me play, huh?” he smirked and swing an arm on your shoulders as you walk closely together towards the field.

And just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is not perfect. Good, but not perfect.

Sungchan and his team lost the game.

You wish you could do something to cheer him up and turn this night around for him but you’ve never seen him like this and quite frankly you don’t know what to do.

He stopped looking at the crowd and stopped smiling at you the moment they started to lose. You saw him get irritated in the field, scream and shout at his teammates, get scolded by their coach. It must be really hard for him and his team.

After the game, you waited for him to come out of the men’s locker room but you were told that he’s really disappointed in himself right now and it might take some time. “If you want, you can go inside. I know you two are not yet together but, comfort him. He needs you” Shotaro said, pats your back, and said goodbye.

Of course, you went in even though you’re not sure what exactly to tell him. But when you saw him sitting on the bench with his head down, your heart ached in an instant and suddenly you know what to do.

“Hey” you greet him quietly.

“Hey- I was just about to meet you, sorry” he flashed a smile like he didn’t look so hurt just a few seconds ago. Now you don’t know if he’s actually happy to see you or he’s faking a smile.

“You know, if we’re going to be together we should start showing different sides of ourselves and start trusting each other. Right?” You said and sat beside him.

What you said made him happy sincerely but the weight of losing tonight is just too much at the moment. So he told you the truth, “I’m a failure” he says and covered his face, trying to hide his frustrations.

“You’re not. Losing tonight doesn’t mean you’re a failure. Losing is part of the game that you love to play so much. And I think you’re not going to stop playing just because there’s a chance of losing” you soothe his back and massaged his shoulders.

You and Sungchan talked for some time in the locker room. He told you what he was thinking and feeling while he was on the field with a losing score, everyone was frustrated, and “suddenly I can't hear the cheers anymore and my worries are eating me up and ruining my game” he says almost in tears again.

And after that heart-to-heart talk in the locker room, he brought you home safely and thanked you for being the only good thing that existed tonight. He undid his seatbelt and reached for your hand to kiss it. He kissed you there because he knew you wouldn’t let him kiss you. Not yet at least.

But he’s wrong. You undid your seatbelt too, reached for his face, and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Good night,” you told him and kissed him again before you get out of his car.

After that life changing kiss, just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is charming, tender, powerful, hilarious, silly, and dramatic.

Your life changed when you started dating Sungchan, but still, you doubt him about his feelings for you.

Nonetheless, you enjoy the relationship. Slowly you become bold and confident with your actions towards him. You’re not afraid to show him that you care, you show him how much he makes you happy, you don’t lie to him whenever you get disappointed with something he did, and sometimes if things heat up quickly, you two fight like there’s no tomorrow.

And just like a normal person, Sungchan changed. Though you saw it coming already because nothing is constant in this world, still it hurt you. You miss the old him and because of that, your doubt about his feelings for you grew and grew until you can’t take it anymore and you decided to break up with him.

“What happened to showing different sides of ourselves and start trusting each other, Y/n? Okay fine, I admit it, I changed. But I have a reason for that and not because I don’t love you. What were you thinking?” He asked sternly, gripping the stirring wheel hard as he drives you home. You didn’t answer his question so it was quiet the whole time until he reaches your house. And the moment he stopped the car, you gathered your stuff and did not want the night to be longer than it already is... but of course, Sungchan will not let you.

He locked the doors of his car before you could even get out. Which made you angry instantly. “I’m not letting you break up with me” he said calmly while you’re anger add up every second.

“I’m not taking it back. My decision is final” you said, covering your face so he won’t see you cry. Leaning forward towards the dashboard and massaging your forehead.

“Why do you doubt my feelings for you? What else do you want me to do? I changed because I can feel that you’re not happy anymore with what we have, so I distanced myself from you to give you space. But I never even once thought of breaking up with you, I want to try and I hope you do too! That’s how much I love you. What did I ever do in the first place to make you doubt me like this, huh?”

“Well then everything’s clear!”

“What is?!”

“Maybe I don’t really love you and that maybe what I feel for you is the problem, not you!” Lie.

“Psh. You’re just telling me that because you’re mad right now!” but it did hurt him that he’s is close to tears.

It turned silent again for a couple of minutes. Maybe it’s his way to stop you both from shouting at each other. He turned his body closer to you and reached for your hand.

“Just don’t break up with me tonight. I'm sorry we shouted at each other,” he pulled you close and kissed your temple, “I just- don’t know what else to do to prove my love to you and you may not see it but I’m scared to the bone. I'm scared of losing you”

After hearing those sincere words without doubting him for the first time, you accepted his apology and said your sorry to him too. “I didn’t mean what I said, I’m sorry," you said and wiped his tears away.

Thankfully the night ended peacefully with long kisses and tight hugs before he walks you to your front door.

Just like a good movie, Jung Sungchan is the greatest plot twist of your life.

After graduating high school, you and Sungchan spend your remaining time together over the summer before you part ways for college. Now that you’re about to face long distance relationship, you both feel stupid about the fights that you had during the earlier days of your relationship.

“I should’ve kissed you longer than usual and told you I love you instead of screaming at you, you know?” He says while playing with your fingers.

Today is one of those days where you and Sungchan sit at the top of his car, your back against his chest and you in between his long legs while watching the sun go down and watch the city lights.

“Then say it now” you said, turning your head on the side and cup his face.

“I love you” he said and planted a soft kiss on your lips, “and don’t you dare doubt it this time-“ he says and tickled your sides to make you giggle.

When you two arrived at your house with a box of pizza for dinner, your mom texted you last minute that they will be out will probably be home very late. Great you murmured because you don’t want Sungchan to go home just yet.

“They’re out and probably will be back by midnight. Can you stay a little longer?” You pout but your boyfriend kissed it away.

“Of course,” he said and smiled at you.

And after a few minutes of flirting while eating pizza, you two decided that you’re not hungry anymore and proceed to make out in your room already to maximize your time of being alone together. Giggling and touching each other wherever you want while your lips touch and kiss each other deeper. Making little sounds just for the two of you, whispering sweet nothings, and listening to what each other wants.

Sungchan removed his hoodie because he’s starting to sweat like crazy, but you sat up and asked for more. Slipping your hands inside his shirt and kissing him as you remove it and throw it away. Still surprised at your recent move, your boyfriend let out a small laugh and reach for your chin as he returns your kisses. “Why are you just showing me this side of you now?” He said and pushed you back on the mattress and quickly removed your shorts and spread your legs so he could lie on top of you while in between your thighs.

Slowly he raises your shirt which you get rid of immediately while he kisses you from your lower abdomen and all the way up until he reaches the valley between your boobs and unclasps your bra effortlessly.

This is his first time seeing you very much exposed for him. And he loves it. So without warning, he sucked your nipples and made you arched your back and ask more. Nibbling and pinching your now swollen nipples, licking and biting your boobs, and covering it with spit. Oh you love what he’s doing.

“One more item of clothing left for the both of us, if I remove yours I’m afraid I can’t control myself” he whispers beside your ear and went back to kissing your lips.

“Let’s do it then,” you said in between kisses, swinging your arms around his neck and moving your hips to show him how eager you are. In return, he put his thumb on your damped panties and draw circles on your clit before he removes it finally.

“I’m so hard right now,” he went back in between your spread legs, kissing you with want while his fingers play with your slit. He touched you hundreds of times already but every time his fingers made contact on your pussy, it feels like the first time again.

“You too, not fair” you whine, slipping your hand inside his underwear and feeling the smoothness of his butt while biting your lips. Of course he gave your request immediately, pulled away from your body and exposed himself to you for the first time.

Knelling in between your spread legs, he pumped his cock while looking at your virgin tight hole and diving into lust even more. He checked your slit if you’re wet enough for him, yes. He asked you if it’s okay to fuck you raw for the first time, yes.

“This will feel goo- ah, fuck” he moaned out when he slides his cock on your wet slit for the first time, feeling the rawness of the activity you’re about to do.

“Keep doing that, fuck it feels good” you said while watching his cock slide up and down your slit and sometimes poking your hole which makes you jolt and giggle. And when he accidentally poked your hole and pushed his entire head, you told him, “Don’t pull away-“ you hiss and finally feel a small stretch from his cock, and as he slowly pushes in, the stretch becomes even more intense that you had to stop him from time to time before he continues to push in.

When he finally rolled his hips slowly, you’re suddenly out of breath and you feel so full. All you can do is grip his arm to show him how good he makes you feel, try not to close your legs whenever he hits a spot, and kiss his lips until the stretch is replaced by pleasure.

“This is what we’ve been missing the whole time- oh!” He said, grunting and moaning so good while fucking you at a slightly faster pace than earlier. Bodies away from each other, both of his hands are gripping your waist while watching your boobs bounce up and down, and of course watching his cock go inside your pussy.

You reach for your clit too and tried stimulating yourself because you’re so near but your boyfriend removed your hand and replaced it with his and suddenly your moans became higher and you’re gripping the sheets so hard.

“C-cuming” you tried telling him but too late, your legs are shaking and so is your whole body, you tried curling yourself but you can’t because your boyfriend is still fucking you. Harder this time.

And right before he hits his high, he pulled away and pumped his cock away from you and took care of his own mess. While you, on the other hand, can finally curl and catch your breath while you wait for your boyfriend to come join you again.

“You okay?” He asks, cleaning your sensitive pussy with a damped towel and helped you wear a clean underwear. “There, so I won't ask for round two” he said and kissed you on the cheek before he joins you under the covers.

“Do you know what I was thinking while we were at it?” He asked, you came closer to him and started kissing him softly. Waiting for him to tell you something sexy, or dirty.

But

“You’re worth the wait, and I’m definitely happy that I didn’t let you break up with me” you stopped kissing him. You didn’t expect he’d say something serious and sweet after fucking your brains out for the first time. “We both know you’re not easy. I’m glad we chose to love each other” now he’s the one who initiated the kiss.

Soft. Cotton-like kiss.

“Now, I feel bad I gave you a hard time” you said in between kissing. “You do love me so much” you added, he chuckled.

“Again, now that you believe that I love you. It’s all worth it”

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #nct smut #sungchan smut #sungchan fic #nct sungchan smut #nct sungchan #sungchan #sungchan x reader #nct x reader #sungchan fluff #nct sungchan x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct #nct 2020

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nexility-sims · 2 years

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historical simblr tag game

i’m pretty sure @cassimopeia tagged me a million years ago, and i have no idea who’s done it already, so i’ll tag ... @simming-in-the-rain and @funkyllama and literally anyone else who sees this and wants to join :^) more of you should be history simmers, so like ... get on it !

1. what has been your favorite time period to play in or which one are you most excited for?

oof ! i loved the 1890s-1910s because i got to live out my gilded age dreams with the og generation of my legacy family—as i say every day, i can’t wait to catch back up to them, whenever i finally do more casual gameplay. the bancrofts are technically stuck in the 1840s and 2010s. looking forward to getting through the civil war era ! as far as the story is concerned, i’m fantasizing about the fifties and sixties but also someday reaching present day ...

2. do you have a favorite piece of historical cc?

hm. this is too hard. can i just list my favorite creators instead ?? everything by happylifesims gilded-ghosts, and linzlu make me immeasurably happy.

3. who is your favorite sim currently?

beatriz. she’s spicy, a lil unhinged, a big meanie. goddess.

4. what is your favorite world?

windenburg or sulani? i used to hate oasis springs but then i decided to set my story in a desert-y place for some godforsaken reason, so it’s growing on me. brindleton bay or whatever it’s called is, for me personally, also v/ underrated. 5. are you more gameplay or story focused?

story, tragically ! i miss gameplay, but i also feel like i won’t be able to avoid using poses and stuff even when i decide to return to my legacy gameplay. EXHIBIT A. 6. do you like to play with pets in your historical saves?

there are a few in my legacy gameplay; the ... second set of founders who are actually the real founders had a dog whose name i forgot, and talullah has a cat called sugarplum. jered and his family have a dog, who’s actually francesca’s, and his name is damien. i always forget about the pets, which means my sims forget about them, and so i don’t involve many. love to make them chase after strays tho ... 7. what's your biggest immersion breaking pet peeve with the game?

echoing tara that cell phones SUCK. honestly, tho, it’s probably when ugly townies i forgot to delete wander into the frame. makes me livid, u kno. 8. what's your favorite in-game historical item?

idk what this question means bc it’s 5:30pm on a wednesday BUT i like the clothesline and the wash basin from laundry day or whatever it’s called. 9. what would you like to see as a new pack or asset to the game?

uhhhhhhh ... more non-western build items ? it’s limiting when it comes to worldbuilding ! 10. what pack do you think is invaluable as a historical simmer?

tbh, i feel like there’s not one that i would miss for history-related reasons. the laundry day stuff is helpful, like i mentioned, but idk ... 11. do you have a favorite mod to enhance historical gameplay?

this is random and more a general gameplay thing, but the one that lets you make groups bigger without earning points or whatever is ... so good. i put all of my family members in a group, and then i can make them have family get togethers all the time ! i honestly haven’t done gameplay in so long, i’ve forgotten how to answer this question. 12. what's your ideal family size for playing?

five or six, i guess? enough that i can despise one of them, periodically ignore them, and alternate between who’s my favorite of the week. i get bored if i don’t have enough family members to mess with, which i think is why i like to keep track of the extended family. 13. do you use poses?

with the story, absolutely ! with my legacy stuff ... originally, no, because i was doing purely gameplay stuff and only sharing screenshots with my irl friend. more recently, i’ve done some staged posts with jered, so i guess somewhat? when i actually play with my legacy saves, no poses. but, like i said, that might change going forward bc i’m obsessed with them. i have a whole storyline to play through anyway, so like ... insert kissy face emoji.

14. do you use any overrides in your game?

probably ?? my mods folder is a mystery to me, i s2g

15. do you, or did you, play off-the-grid during your game?

never tried it ! maybe sometime.

16. what lifespan do you play on?

long. i get attached ! occasionally i switch to normal. aging is off for story things since i move things along manually according to the pace of the story. the death of my legacy sims is always a whole entire affair, so i like to prologue it. for example, jered’s father was my main sim for literal years, so i had a few real human tears when he died dhsjkflgs

17. what inspired you to start playing historically?

downton abbey. :^)

#sleepwalking thru this bc i need to clean out my drafts #I MISS MY GAMEPLAY BABIES #tbh the only reason i don't mess with them #is because transferring the files from my external hard drive is hellish #sigh

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Like a Thief in the Night (FNTO 3)

What were you both trying to prove? That two people can remain just friends?

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that!

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, eventual smut

Word count: 4,800

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the café, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: JK gets some sense knocked into him thanks to Seokjin and Jimin bc I am a jinminkook stan. Italicized parts refer to past events. Listen to Home by 1D to prep you for part 4!

Jungkook covers his face with his hands, elbows leaning on the table, right leg shaking constantly. He’s been listening to the track over and over again; the hook sounded good yesterday but why does it seem lacking today?

“Fuck, I’m not gonna get this done in time,” he curses to himself. It has been a few days since he arrived in L.A. and had met with the producer he reached out to just as he planned.

He’s been staying holed up in his hotel room though, his daily gym visits being the only other thing, aside from the concerts, that he looks forward to, given the old couple and father-and-son duos he’s been seeing there everyday. The guys and the rest of the team won’t arrive until a few days later, and he hasn’t had any motivation to go around the city.

He plays the track one more time. Maybe this time he’ll figure out what’s missing; is it in the melody? The lyrics? But unsurprisingly, he doesn’t. It sounds just like it did a minute ago, yesterday, 2 days ago.

You won’t get any more productive being cooped up in here, he’d told you that Saturday when he dragged you out of your apartment for a little excursion.

It’s been over a week since then. He’d told you the words you always tell him when he’s groaning in frustration to you over the phone because of a certain pitch he can’t get right, or over words that don’t seem to capture what he wants to say.

He closes his eyes, head thrown over the desk chair and he lets out another grunt. Artists need to go out for inspiration and you don’t seem like you’re getting it here.

He closes his laptop, wears a cap over his head, and readies himself to go out. “Damn it, Y/N, you win. You always do,” he says to himself, and walks out the door.

It’s quite windy for a summer day in August in L.A., but the sun is still high up enough, slightly blinding Jungkook. The skies are clear, and he thinks it’s a good enough day as any to finally take a trip to the Griffith Observatory.

He didn’t do much, just stared out at the city below him and enjoyed the fresh air he’d finally allowed himself to breathe. He could see the clouds so clearly from here, all soft and puffy.

I’d eat those, you’d said not long ago when you were having brunch on your terrace, the warm summer air of Seoul hitting your faces. Of course, you’d eat anything, he’d answered back, earning a smack from you. That makes both of us, you’d said.

He lets out a low groan. You again. “It’s just clouds, for fuck’s sake,” he says to himself. Somehow this seemed to signal to him that it was time to go.

A hotdog sandwich and soda later, Jungkook finds himself in Hancock Park, the sun slowly dipping down the horizon, making it a good time to just lay on the sprawling greens by the perfectly lined palm trees.

With hands behind his head, he thinks that it's been a good day. Why you’d said that L.A. isn’t your cup of tea, he never found out. The city seems so dynamic, interesting; it has a little something for everyone, especially the food. He should ask you some time.

Jungkook pauses his thoughts. Ask you? Why should he? He basically shunned you away, ghosted you for a week and convinced the company to allow him to leave early so he could meet with the producer he could very easily meet in between shows, just so he could get away from you as quickly as possible.

The confused, pleading, and then defeated look on your face bore into his mind, unwillingly etched there along with the happier images of you - eating your favorite red bean ice cream, laughing so hard that no sound comes out of your mouth, your scrunched up face when drinking sodas, furrowed eyebrows when working, and finally, your sleeping figure bunched up underneath a thick fleece blanket, soft snores escaping you.

That last one will always be his favorite, had been since that first time you’d asked him to sleep next to you.

He woke up earlier than you that Sunday, the day after your little trip, body already used to their early morning wake up calls. You were both under the covers, with you taking up most of the blanket, as always. He softly laughed at this when he realized that half of his body was exposed, but this gave him a reason to scoot closer to you and feel your warmth, so he wasn’t complaining.

You looked so peaceful, so soft, even with slightly furrowed brows as you were engulfed in your dream. A loose strand of hair fell on your face, which he’d tucked gently behind your ear. A smile befell him, thinking of the way his heart was currently beating slow and fast at the same time. How was that even possible?

But he didn’t mind it, didn’t even think to find an answer. He’d already given up on finding reasons for what you’d been doing to him, what you’d been making him feel.

He decided right then and there that he will no longer run from what he’s feeling for you, that he will no longer play this up as something that just happened.

He’s a firm believer of destiny anyway, and yesterday, this moment right now, he feels like he’d dreamt it all before. He’s meant to be here with you, just as he was meant to be at your aunt’s cafe that September day last year to run into you, or that night out last New Year's when Chaewon had lost her car key and was too preoccupied to take care of you so he did, leading to that fateful morning of you in your underwear almost stabbing him - you both did agree that experience solidified your friendship, after all.

Every other moment after that with you felt real, and more than anything, it felt right. He fell asleep again not long after, your steady breathing lulling him to sleep. His last thought was of the next time he’d wake up next to you like this again, and his heart softens at the thought.

He shakes his head, anger and frustration building up again, not at you but at himself. He was deliberate in his avoidance of you that whole week before he left.

He’d missed you when you were busy and he somehow felt empty. He crashed your Saturday and took you on a little trip - he remembers how fast his heart would beat whenever you’d lean on him, butterflies in his stomach suddenly having grown in size.

After you’d thanked him for being such a great friend - he winces at the word - he felt his heart shatter slowly, and then all at once.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary because you thank him constantly. He thinks it’s because you feel he could be doing something else other than spend time with you because time for him is a luxury; wealthy as he is, it’s something he can not afford. He never told you though that spending time with you is one of the things he looks forward to, sort of an escape but also a taste of normalcy he’s barely afforded.

But after a while, your expression of gratitude became more specific - it wasn’t just time you were thanking him for, it was his attention, his care, his thoughtfulness… his friendship.

Fate was playing a game with him, he thinks, that at the moment he’d decided what he wanted from you and what he could give you - his time, his world, his love at some point - you’d decided to define him, as your friend. How cruel, he whispers to himself.

He tries to think as you do. You’d probably call him silly for his musings because you never believed in fate or destiny, always thought that things happen as they do, because they do - no grand plan, no specific reason, just a reason, and that was enough for you.

He goes home from his sightseeing and allows himself to think about you again that night, and the night after. He thinks about your plump lips, soft against his chapped ones. He thinks about how it felt with you close to him, your arms wrapped around his; fingertips just slightly brushing. He’s glad you’d never lay your head on his chest when you sleep, at least he doesn’t know what that feels like - what you don’t know can’t hurt you, after all.

He let the sound of your laughter and your out of tune singing sing him to sleep, over and over playing in his head. He tortures himself like this. It’s all he could do to get back at himself on your behalf, he thinks. You hurt him without knowing, and he hurt you right back.

“Mind sharing what’s interesting about that text message, Jungkook?” Yoongi calls out from across the table.

The guys are finally in the U.S., the morning of rehearsal having just wrapped up and everyone is backstage for a lunch break.

Hoseok shoots Yoongi a look, as if to tell him to talk about it only when Jungkook brings it up first. The older man only shrugs.

Jungkook picks this up, though; he picks up everything. He knows his hyungs as much as they know him. The questions about the meeting with the producer, how the mixtape is going, any sights he’d seen, new food he’d tried. They’re trying, he figures.

He could sense the glances everyone is giving each other but him, the topic-change when the conversation is heading to the topic of you, the clearing of throats, the awkward silences.

“Y/N texted,” Jungkook says after one of those awkward silences. He stares at the screen, as he’s been doing since last night when, just as he was about to finally doze off at 3AM, his phone lights up. You probably thought he was already asleep, not knowing the agony he was putting himself through.

Everyone falls silent but looks at him softly. Seokjin turns to Yoongi, as if telling him to say something and finish what he started, but Namjoin gets to it first.

“You can talk about it, or not. Depends on what you think will help you be ready for the next 2 nights of shows,” the leader says. “Just let us know.”

Jungkook sighs. “I hate myself enough just thinking about her. I don’t know what I’d be if I start talking,” he says.

“We’ve got time after tomorrow,” he resigns. Everyone nods in agreement. “I need to be at my best for these two nights,” Jungkook says, and proceeds to keep his phone in his pocket and heads out.

Y/N: There’s no proper way to say this but I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I thought I had it all figured out. I wanted too many things from you but couldn’t commit to anything. I was selfish and unfair. I hate myself for hurting you the way I did and you didn’t deserve any of that. I’m so sorry.

Jungkook reads the text over and over again, as if doing so will clarify things for him. Wanted too many things? Couldn’t commit to anything? What did you mean? He called you selfish and unfair that day when you showed up at his place, and he hates himself for it, he hopes more than you hate yourself for hurting him.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I told her about you leaving early,” Jimin starts. “I probably should’ve picked up that something was wrong when you seemed off that whole day after you got back from her place and should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, hyung,” he responds. “If I hadn’t been an idiot and ghosted her for a week, we could’ve settled it properly instead of dragging you guys into this,” Jungkook says, looking up from his phone.

He figures you’d eventually reach out to one of the guys about him. Seokjin had likewise reached out to you the other day, asking what was going on, that much he’s said.

“She also didn’t say much when I asked,” Seokjin says from across the table, beer bottle in hand.

The guys are in a new city and have the next day just for rehearsals. He and Jimin had knocked on Jungkook’s hotel room, in hopes that the younger would be willing to talk.

“But she did sound pretty out of it,” the elder continues. “What happened, Kook? Everything seemed to be going so well with you two. Unless it’s what we think it is.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook shoots both of them a confused look.

Jimin sighs. “Who fell first?” He questions. Jungkook’s eyes go wide, but then again, that’s what always happens right? He’s been in denial long enough that you and he were going to go down that route, but his hyungs weren’t.

Jungkook shuts his eyes before taking a deep breath.

“I did, at that moment,” he says, referring to that Sunday morning. “I mean, I think I’d felt something before then, but it felt faint, like something fleeting, something abstract, like a thought.” Jungkook drifts a bit, eyes glowing to the memory of you under the blankets.

“But I woke up that morning next to her and I don’t know, for the first time it felt different from all the other mornings. It felt tangible, like something I could hold onto and touch and feel and savor, not just an abstract idea of a person or a feeling,” he looks at his hyungs, eyes shining before they turn downcast. “But she thanked me for being a great friend.”

“Ouch,” Seokjin quips. “No wonder you’ve been moping.”

“I’ve been doing worse,” Jungkook responds. “I’ve been torturing myself, playing that morning, and that day at my house before I left, over and over again.”

“Why are you punishing yourself?” Jimin asks.

“Because I lashed out on her. I called her selfish and unfair. I told her I wanted to get away from her, that she’s the problem.”

At this, the two older men look at him, shock painted on their faces at the reveal. This doesn’t sound like their sweet little Kookie, expressing such anger that way.

“I didn’t talk to her for days and she stood there looking worried and sad and I lashed out. I essentially blamed her for the feelings I couldn’t control. She looked at me like I was the one breaking her heart.”

“Maybe you were, too. Breaking her heart, I mean.” Seokjin quips. At this, Jungkook sighs. “Maybe not in the way you think but… did you even hear her out?”

“No…” Jungkook responds. He didn’t give you a chance. You stood there, demanding an explanation, and he blew you off.

“Well, I doubt she’d say much. She didn’t know how you were feeling before then, did you really expect anything more? What happened to talking it out? You two always did that,” Jimin asks.

“Yeah but not about this, not about feelings.”

“What kind of people flirt, kiss, sleep next to each other, and not talk about feelings?” Jimin continues.

“Idiots, cowards, naive people…” Seokjin answers, looking upset. The other two men could’ve easily missed the bitter tone of his voice.

“Yoongi hyung is that you?” Jungkook asks, a laugh almost escaping his lips.

“He’s rubbing off on me but the point is, that’s what you both are. What were you both trying to prove? That two people can remain just friends? She hadn’t let anyone in since her breakup, and you…” Seokjin gesticulates, trying to find the right words for Jungkook. “You are you, Jungkook. You don’t willingly make time just for anyone because you, we, don’t have enough of it. But you always, always make time for her. Both of you kept doing what you were doing, whatever it was, and did you really think staying in the gray area was sustainable? Look what happened!” Seokjin is out of breath, clearly this means a lot to him too.

“I thought you’d learned enough from me,” he emphasizes the last word, pointing to himself.

Jungkook and Jimin both soften at the elder, almost forgetting that he knows a thing or two about staying in the gray area, too afraid of crossing invisible lines, too naive to think that good things stay.

“I teased along with everyone else because you two were enjoying yourselves, seemingly mature enough to roll with the punches and laugh along without it being awkward, and I’m not gonna lie, you guys were pretty cute too, but so many times I wanted to smack your head to knock some sense into you,” he continues.

“You can never be too complacent about these things, Jungkook. You can never just resign into thinking that the person who makes you feel this happy, this right, can be kept at a distance and just stay there.”

Jungkook feels it’s cathartic to Seokjin as much as it is for him. He’s right. Both of you should’ve talked about it at some point, perhaps after that first and second kiss, perhaps when it became routine to do that whenever he slept over, perhaps when it started to feel so right having your lips onto his. You were both being naive, thinking that things would remain as good as it was as time went on.

He should’ve said something earlier, or perhaps talked to you right after that day instead of avoiding you. But more importantly, he shouldn’t have lashed out on you the way he did. His anger was misplaced. Perhaps he was angry at himself for letting it get as far as it did, for letting it affect him as much as it did.

He let you sneak in his heart just like that, like a thief in the night you crawled in and took from him, and he let you, he always let you. And he never complained because he wanted it too. He wanted you, in whatever way he could have you, but he let his own cowardice get the best of him that day at his house. He lashed out because he was scared, more than anything, that you didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, I just…” Seokjin says after a long silence has engulfed the three men, everyone finding a spot in the room to focus on, letting the words sink in.

“We could all tell how happy she makes you and how soft you are for her. I mean, you let her give you shit for thinking that Ironman is the best Avenger and you never complain when she wears your clothes,” he continues, a smile forming on his lips.

Seokjin, like the rest of the guys, feel very protective of the youngest. They feel they’ve done their part in raising him and want nothing more than for him to be happy, seeing the amount of pressure he puts on himself.

“You don’t find that person just anywhere, Jungkook, especially not with the kind of life we live. I would’ve hoped you understood that and made you sure you wouldn’t lose her,” he continues.

“Yah, don’t get ahead of yourself, hyung. He hasn’t lost her yet,” Jimin says, looking at Jungkook to confirm.

Jungkook buries his face on his hands. “I don’t know, I hope not. But I said hurtful things to her and I can’t take them back. And I’m thousands of miles away and I can’t just fix things from here.”

“Do you even know what you want now? After everything that’s happened?” Seokjin asks.

“I don’t know, depends on what she wants too, I guess,” Jungkook responds.

“Well, you didn’t even give her a chance to say anything so how would you know,” Jimin states the obvious.

Jungkook lets out a low growl. Of course he didn’t give you a chance to say anything because he left you hanging, all messages unopened, all calls unanswered. And then he left. He felt so brave walking on this undefined territory with you but chickened out the moment things got serious.

“Look, just… give both of yourselves time. You can’t do much from here anyway, and you’re both too out of it right now to know what to do next,” Seokjin advises. He knows better than anyone that giving yourself time is most important.

“But what if she decides she doesn’t want any of this anymore? That she doesn’t wanna talk to me or have anything to do with me when I get back?”

“Yah! Give yourselves more credit. I know it’s hard but you need to have faith in your friendship, at least,” Jimin reprimands the younger boy. “We’ve still got over a month into this leg of the tour and that’s enough time to figure yourself out.”

Jungkook comforts himself with this thought. But can he manage spending all this time away from you, knowing he left things on a bad note? He can’t fault himself enough for how he left things, and now he has to put faith in your shared friendship that things were going to be okay.

If you’re meant to be together, it’ll happen; that should be enough, right? He’ll go home soon, and he’ll see you at some point, that’s if you still want to see him. He just has less than 2 months to figure out what he wants, and moreso, what he could give.

It’s been 6 weeks since that day at Jungkook’s house when he implied he had feelings for you.

You know what else is nice? Calling me to come over on Friday nights when you didn't feel like being out, asking me to stay the night and having me sleep next to you, kissing me and saying you liked waking up next to me then telling me that ‘this feels nice and comfortable and fun’ and that I really am a great friend, he told you then. You were an idiot, that much you’ve figured out.

Other than busying you with a trip to the carnival, baseball nights, arcade Saturdays, and gallons of Baskin Robbins, your friends have done their part in helping you process your feelings and figure out exactly what you feel for the doe-eyed boy.

They helped you backtrack, as if your story was some sort of mystery that needed clues that would eventually point to what you were looking for - the moment it all changed, for you and maybe for him, too.

But you realized it wasn’t exactly a moment, it was a series of them - the first time he took you home when you were drunk, that night he came over when you were crying over your ex, when he sang to you over the phone because the thunder was scaring you, when you cried together after rewatching Avengers: Endgame for the nth time… when you first kissed and he tasted of beer and his strawberry chapstick, when you kissed the second time and he didn’t pull away.

You let yourself drown in those little kisses more than you care to admit. It was all you could give him and you felt it was all he could give in return. You both never went past that act; on your end it was because you knew that anything beyond that would lead to wanting more, something you knew he couldn’t give, something you told yourself not to expect.

He’d come over whenever he could when you asked, he’d stay over when it was okay to do so. You ask once and nothing more, nothing more than a peck on the lips, nothing more than a Friday evening or a Sunday morning, nothing more than a quick hug, nothing more than a “thank you.”

You knew all this, hence, why you conditioned yourself to think that what you both were was all that you could ever be. He told you once that relationships tend to get messy and he already has enough crazy to deal with. That stuck with you, and perhaps that’s when your mind made the decision to not look at him as anything more.

But you still kept pushing it, subconsciously you think, knowing there was still an invisible line you shouldn’t cross. You kept doing what you wanted, just waiting for him to say no, but he never did. He never does. He’s always quick to make it up to you when he turns you down.

This thought suddenly makes you angry. Why didn’t he just say no? That would’ve been better, you think. He could’ve just rejected you instead of coaxing you into this unfamiliar and undefined territory. Now you’re both stuck, unsure of what to do next. You carved this out though, you remind yourself.

Anything “more” with him was definitely not an option, so you created your own path towards something that isn’t “more,” just something short of it.

You look over the last communication you had with him. You sent him a message, a few days after he left when you’d had some sense knocked into you, apologizing. That’s all you could’ve given him then, an apology. Not an acceptable explanation, not a promise, not a solution or a way out; just an apology, in hopes that it would be enough.

You sent him a “Happy birthday, I hope you enjoy today!” greeting coupled with a photo of a cupcake with a candle you’d bought just for him on that first week of September. He replied but a “Thank you.” Nothing more.

Seokjin and Jimin reached out to you too, in the days following Jungkook’s departure. They’re letting him deal with it in whatever way works for him, they said. The priority is making sure he’s at his best for the shows, for the fans. You understood this, of course. The stage is where he’s at his happiest. You’re glad he’ll always have that.

The guys will be resting at least a week after they get back before preparing for the final 3 days of the tour in Seoul. You don’t have long before then.

The day after Jungkook left, you had that epiphany moment with Hyejin where she told you that perhaps you’d just done whatever you wanted because you wanted everything and nothing at the same time but couldn’t commit to either. You thought you had everything figured out without realizing that in fact, you didn’t. You had 2 months to figure your shit out, and you did.

It was that one afternoon when you absentmindedly picked up banana milk at the supermarket when you intended to just get chocolate milk at the dairy section. It baffled you when you opened your eco bag to see the yellow box, as if the universe was playing a trick on you. You stared at it like it had grown eyes or something, until you realized the other items in your refrigerator, your pantry, your counter that was all for him.

His favorite cereals on the top shelf, his Nutella and banana beside your peanut butter, his favorite biscuits in the cabinet, the mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. Even his favorite toothpaste is in your bathroom.

And you smiled. You smiled at how silly you seemed. It’s not just that you couldn’t get the thought of him off you, it’s that you didn’t want to. You’d willingly let him be a part of your life, of your everyday.

You miss him so much, more than you thought you ever could. All you want to do is talk to him even if you’re hurt and angry and upset. You just want him, even if things are confusing. You just want him even if you don’t know what he’s feeling after everything.

You want it to work, no matter what it takes. You won’t walk away from this if it doesn’t work out the way you normally do. You’ll stay and try until it does, hoping to all that is good that he feels the same way.

As the end of September rolls in, the feelings of fear, anxiety, and excitement start to engulf you. They’ll be back soon, and Jimin had said he’ll message once they arrive. You’d given each other time; the two months felt like two years. That should be enough.

You’re lounging at your terrace, Sunday night in full swing for those with interesting and put-together lives unlike you. And then your phone beeps, signaling a message.

JM: Hi, Y/N. We’re home!

part 2 drabble <<>> part 4

series masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook #idol jungkook

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dwaynepride · 4 years

Text

better off running wild

summary: college au. reader is supposed to be tutoring tony, but things get carried away.

words: 3,360

warnings: make out session

tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @jrenn10 @andreasworlsboring101 @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

There’s just something you’ve always hated about jocks.

Most of them were alright, admittedly. Those who mostly kept to their own giant friend circles and didn’t pay you much attention. There’s even a basketball player in one of your classes who gave you part of his lunch during lecture, which was pretty cool.

But the sentiment of disliking jocks, while cliche, is never so prominent than on Wednesday afternoons.

“Hurry up, Slowpoke. I got practice at four.” Tony’s broad chest is pressing against your shoulder, pushing himself into your space. All it earns him is an elbow to the gut, and the sound of him grunting is strangely satisfying.

“I can only write so fast,” you snap back to him. With a huff, you continue to scribble your name down on the library’s guest sheet. Once upon a time, you had a peacefully available Wednesday afternoon schedule. Sometimes, you’d go to the coffee shop to study and work. Other times, you might just head back to your dorm and catch a quick nap.

Nowadays, because Professor Gibbs decided you were the best for the job, you get to hang out in the library tutoring Tony DiNozzo.

As if the Professor couldn't have paired you off with anybody less annoying, less eager to actually learn, or any more inclined not to run off at the mouth about his favorite movie that you’ve never even heard of before. And sure, Tony was hot. Jaw-droppingly gorgeous with big shoulders and a great smile and nice hair and somehow, that all just made him even more annoying because he knew he was a 12 out of 10.

Case in point, when you finally step away so he could sign his name, Tony smiled and winked. Probably a reflex for him to flirt with anything that moved or whatever. You’ve been dealing with it for weeks.

So with a cross huff, you turn and walk off in the direction of your usual table.

The table is located at the very back of the library - a stuffy little corner nobody came around or even acknowledged and it’s worked wonders for Tony’s attention span. Out among the other tables, he just got too distracted - flagging down and talking to whichever one of a thousand friends he has, or attempting to chat up some poor girl who was trying to study.

It’s sad, really, that you have to tuck him away in some dusty corner for Tony to focus, but it's where you are now.

By the time Tony shows up, you have all the books and papers laid out on the table for the tutoring session. “Did you do the homework last night?” You ask him without even looking up.

He’s quiet for a moment, slowly making his way around you to his own seat. “I did some of it,” Tony answers eventually.

“Some?”

“Yeah. I had a party to go to. Couldn’t finish it.”

Tony plops down in his chair, tilts his head up, and puts on that familiar glamorizing smile - probably hoping it would keep you from scolding him. Maybe before, that smile might’ve weakened you a bit. Not now, though. Not after dealing with his bullshit for nearly two months every single Wednesday afternoon.

You sit with a deadpan frown. “So a party is more important than your grades, huh?”

Tony blinks and shrugs. “Well, this party was. You really should come along to one, sometime. Have some actual fun.”

This isn’t the first time Tony had tried persuading you into attending one of his dumb parties. Or even wanted to drag you along to his football games under the guise of it being fun and ‘the college experience.’ There was even a time where he called you in the middle of the night and asked if you wanted to go get drinks with him. As if you hadn’t been cramming all night for an exam.

Frustrating and irresponsible. How Tony DiNozzo even got into this school, you’ll never understand.

“Let’s just work, okay? The test is this Friday and I doubt you’re prepared.”

He shrugs and, shockingly, doesn’t argue. And for the next hour or so, you talk him through his half-finished homework. But this was probably the most frustrating aspect about tutoring Tony - he wasn’t stupid. Not by a long shot. He understood the work and actually got the questions right, if he tried. He could easily pass the class on his own.

Yet, you’re left tutoring him.

Once the homework is done, Tony slams his book shut with a smug smile. “Alright, Teach, I’m done. Am I free to go?”

You shake your head and bend over to reach for something in your backpack. “Not yet,” you answer him. “I went by Professor Gibbs’ office yesterday and picked something up that will help you on the test.”

Taking out a small packet of papers, you place it in front of Tony. He studies it, eyebrows furrowed together, until you speak up. “It’s a practice test for the exam. I was thinking you could take it, I’ll grade it, and we’ll see what you need to work on.”

Immediately, Tony lets out a loud groan - much too loud for a library, but really, you two were so far removed from everybody else that you doubt anybody even heard. Still, you glance around at the dusty bookshelves before roughly shoving Tony’s shoulder. “Don’t be a baby! I’m trying to help you pass this fucking class. Do I have to remind you that if you fail, you don’t get to play football? I’m doing you a favor by tutoring you - the least you can do is try.”

The rant just spilled out without anything to keep it back. Maybe Tony’s antics had slowly chipped away at your patience.

And for once, he was quiet. Tony blinks his surprise at your tone, his gaze drops, and then he nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I’ll do the test.” Resigned, he pulls the packet closer and starts working. Really working.

You’re left in shock that you just won so easily. Usually, Tony attempts to shrug you off, or he changes the subject, or just tries to flirt his way out. Seeing him actually working - trying - is a strange sight to see.

As the minutes tick by, you try to keep yourself busy as Tony works. Go on your phone, do some reading, go to the bathroom. But in the end, your focus just keeps shifting back to Tony - his eyes sharp with focus, and the furrow of his brow showcases just how much he’s paying attention to the practice test.

But it’s not all you notice.

And….alright, you aren’t blind. You’re well aware that Tony looks good; how else does he get so many dates? You notice the way his jaw clenches tight. Every once in a while, he takes a deep breath and his whole body moves and you’re reminded of just how big his shoulders are. He must be one hell of a football player - not that you’d know. You’ve never gone to his games.

He’s got a cute nose, as well. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

And suddenly, before you could realize you were staring, Tony’s eyes meet yours. Flustered, you look away - but even out of the corner of your eye, his smirk is visible. “I’m done,” he says, handing over the packet.

But as you go to take it, Tony pulls it just out of your reach. So you look back to him, and he’s watching you in that annoying Tony DiNozzo way. Like he’s finally figured you out. “I want a wager, though,” he continues.

“A wager,” you repeat.

“Yup. If I pass, I get to kiss you. Is that a deal?”

Kiss?

The word barely makes sense to you, right now. You’re left blinking and scoffing - a buffer to try to make sense of Tony’s words until finally, you can come up with actual words to say. “What if you failed?” Oh yes, brilliant; act like you’re going to go along with his stupid wager. That’s what you want.

Tony’s smirk widens. “If I failed, I’ll walk back to my dorm in my underwear,” he announces. “Either way, you win.”

You ignore the sudden onslaught of butterflies and yank the packet out of his hands. “Fine. Deal. Maybe if I’m lucky, it'll be raining when we leave.”

Tony simply hums, unbothered by your insinuation that he’ll lose. And as you start grading the practice test, you can feel his eyes on you. It’s hard to focus and with a rush of heat, you realize that he must’ve felt you staring at him before. And your staring had been a complete accident - Tony is purposefully watching you. And you just pray that he doesn’t notice the new flush of your skin.

Instead, you force yourself to focus on Tony’s test. Something easier for you to understand.

7) When did the Minoan Civilization end?

Tony’s answer: The Bronze Age Collapse.

Okay, that one is correct. Fair enough, it’s not even that hard of a question. Next one:

8) The City of Rome was founded in:

Okay, he’s got to get this one wrong. In all the time you’ve been tutoring Tony, there was one kind of date you knew he was terrible with, and it was the historical kind.

His answer: 753 BC.

Damn.

And it just kept going on like that. More correct answers than incorrect. Even when you finished grading his test, you didn’t want to look up and face him and admit that he totally passed the practice exam with flying colors. That would also mean confessing that he won his stupid little wager.

“How’d I do?” He eventually asks. And his voice is low; very different from his annoyingly loud and boisterous self that you can’t help but look up.

He’s watching you carefully, like you have his undivided attention. It’s a little unnerving, but at the same time, maybe a little exhilarating. And you don’t even have the mind to wonder why.

And it takes a moment to remember how to speak. “You passed,” you tell him, matching his soft tone. Perhaps if Tony were acting normal, you would’ve added on a teasing comment. Something about him getting a good score against all the odds, or maybe comparing him to the second coming of Albert Einstein. Then Tony would say something equally stupid and he’d leave because he has his precious football practice.

None of that happens - this is uncharted territory.

He hums again, slow and purposeful, as if he’s thinking. And you notice him lean over just a little, on the very outskirts of what’s considered your own personal space. You catch a whiff of his scent and almost catch yourself leaning away from him.

Is this why Tony is so popular? Because he has his own gravitational pull? That must be it.

“Looks like I won the wager,” he says with a smirk pulling on his lips. “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

His words make you hesitate. Was he serious? Tony DiNozzo: football star, annoying heart throb, everybody’s friend….actually wanted to kiss you? It has to be some kind of dumb joke. A sick prank. Something to tell his friends later on that he scammed you into kissing him and all he had to do was stop playing dumb.

Immediately, it becomes easier to lean away from Tony. To break out of the spell that his eyes had somehow cast onto you. His expression changes, but you ignore it. “Did you plan this?”

“Plan what?”

“Making a stupid bet to get me to kiss you. It’s a joke, isn’t it? A prank that you and your dumb football buddies thought up? Well, it’s not very damn funny.”

You don’t even attempt to hide the anger in your voice. Tony’s eyebrows furrow together, looking confused but you ignore him to start hurriedly gathering your stuff up. You’ll just have to go to Professor Gibbs tomorrow and ask him to assign a new tutor for Tony - if he even needs one. Seems like he can manage himself just fine.

You’re stuffing a textbook into your bag while Tony juggles with his words. “What? Hey- hold on, it’s wasn’t a joke or anything-”

“Right. And you just want me to kiss you.”

“What if I do?”

Immediately, your eyes whip back around to face Tony. The way he straightens up does offer a tiny bit of satisfaction, admittedly. “You don’t, Tony. And that’s fine, I don’t really care. I’m sure you can find someone else to kiss if you really wanted to,” you tell him blatantly.

“I know I can,” fucking typical, “but I want it to be you.”

Slowly, you cease packing up your things. The next time you look at Tony, you really look at him. He looks serious enough; though, you’re not even sure if you’ve ever seen a serious Tony DiNozzo. But you reckon this might be it. And if he’s being serious, maybe he’s being honest.

“Did you even really need a tutor?”

He shrugs, and a smirk falls on his lips. Not condescending, but almost like your question amused him. You’re not sure which is worse. “Maybe not. But hey, you make history a whole lot more interesting,” he answers, voice smooth and sounding like the regular Tony that you know.

It makes you scoff lightly. Eyes breaking away, but he tilts his head to keep the contact. “Listen, you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. But I think you do. And I know I want to, so…”

You finally stop and think about things. The way he lured you into tutoring him was very....clever, in a way. Putting himself in your domain instead of dragging you kicking and screaming into his. Tony is definitely a lot smarter than he lets on, and it leaves you wondering how the hell you let him get the edge on you, like this.

But he was also right - you did want to kiss him. Desperately. And you didn’t even really know it until just now. Looking at him, your eyes drop down to his smirking lips. And as he starts to lean in closer, you don’t pull away like last time. Once again, you’re caught up in his gravity. Being pulled in helplessly, as if he’s a massive blackhole in the middle of your solar system.

Tony’s close now, so you fight to grab onto any sense of logical thought. “Tony,” you murmur out his name. He hums in response. “I don’t wanna turn out like all your other dates. You show ‘em a good time, and then never call them again.” You watch his eyes flicker up in surprise. “I know about all that.”

He hesitates, and then huffs in amusement. “‘Course I’ll call you. Gonna need help on that final exam, aren’t I?”

Another dumb joke, but you’re not too focused on dissecting the implications of his words. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne. It’s a little strong but also dizzying and once his warm breath wafts over your lips, you can’t help but let your eyes fall shut. A silent invitation that Tony gladly accepts.

His lips are warm and wet against yours, and they feel like fireworks.

Yes, the thought of Tony’s many dates and flings had made you a little wary. But right now, you’re thankful for each and every one of them. The way Tony kisses...it just melts the world away. No more dusty bookshelves or crappy library lights. No hushed laughter from a group of girls that you’ve been hearing for the past hour. This corner of the library is a tiny world that only you and Tony inhabit, if for a short time.

He’s steadily stoking a fire in your stomach, even if he doesn’t know it. It gets stronger when Tony hums against your lips and raises a hand to fit along your cheek - his palm is big and warm and the feel of it nearly makes you shiver.

And then Tony laughs, and you wonder if you really did shiver.

But the detour was brief - he goes right back to kissing you good. Sucking on your bottom lip for a moment, stops, and then waits for you to want more from him. You don’t even know when your fingers found their way into his hair, but Tony groans a bit. The sound of him goes straight to the pit of your gut.

His lips are relentless. Barely giving you a chance to breathe and by the time you notice his hand has vanished from your cheek, your lungs are aching slightly. And before you can wonder too much, the hand is suddenly on your thigh.

The touch was unexpected. Shocking, even, but definitely not unpleasant. His hand is large and strong and when he squeezes the flesh of your thigh, you can’t help but moan just a little against Tony’s mouth. The moan, of course, was completely accidental and it sends a hot wave up into your face because you know he heard that.

But he seemed to like it. Tony’s grinning, and his hand squeezes your thigh again. Maybe it wasn’t all too embarrassing. “I like the way you sound,” he rumbles out. When he comes in to kiss you again, his hands slowly slides up. Just an inch, but it feels like a mile and you’re trying really hard not to start writhing under his touch. “Like the way you taste, too.”

Fuck, he can’t be talking right now. Not when his kisses and his touches are already doing so much to turn your body into putty in his hands. Everything’s hot and burning when he moves his fingers up another half-inch, dangerously close to the sensitive part of your inner thigh.

By now, you’re nearly panting. Fingers gripping Tony’s forearm so tight, you’re surprised it hasn’t hurt him. What’s worse, you don’t even know why you’re holding onto him or what you want him to do: stop, or keep going. Evidently, Tony’s in the same boat. Because he leans in real close, his breath wafting over your ear. “What’re you thinking? Wanna see how quiet you can be?” He asks, voice lowered to a harsh whisper.

You force your brain to start working, and you try to decide. You really, really try. But the choice is stolen from you.

“Hey, this is a library. Get some space between you two!”

Of fucking course the librarian picks this time to come around to this desolate little corner.

Instantly, you shove Tony away, eyes dropping away from him and the librarian. “Sorry,” Tony says, not sounding particularly apologetic. Eventually, the librarian walks off. And his entire focus is back on you. And for a moment, you wonder if he's about to start up where he left off. Or maybe ask if you’d want to go back to his dorm. You don’t even know what your answer would be - yes? No? Can you have both at once?

“Tony-”

“I got practice,” he cuts in. His smile is back as he leans in for another quick kiss. But Tony doesn’t back away too fast. He stays, and when he speaks, his breath is on your lips once again - something so small, but already so addicting. “You really should come to one of my parties sometime. I think you’d have a lot of fun.”

With that, he straightens up, picks his backpack off the ground, and walks off. Once he’s disappeared behind the bookshelves, you’re left alone at the table. Surrounded by books and papers and still finding it hard to breathe.

Were you still going to ask Professor Gibbs for a new tutor? Maybe not.

Was your decision entirely influenced by Tony and his lips and the warm imprint of his hand on your thigh? It’s possible.

But as you continue to gather up your supplies - hands shaky and legs a little wobbly - you can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if the librarian hadn’t walked up when he did.

#ncis imagine #ncis x reader #tony dinozzo imagine #tony dinozzo x reader

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yeocult · 4 years

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ATEEZ as students studying

HONGJOONG:

king of self-care! but studies for 15 minutes then take a 2 hour break and calls it self-care (omg he thinks he’s me or smth)

has power naps every single day at least 30 mins because he’s Stressed

always thinking of ways to drop out during the middle of lectures

that one kid that talks to nobody & sits at the back of the class with his hood on to hide his airpods

doesn’t do it anymore bc one time it disconnected and “there’s some whores in this house” blasted out loud & now he’s paranoid

shows up to group studies but lets the group carry him,,, but he puts out One Really good idea to get his name on the paper

only cares about topics he’s interested in, other than that he’s just astral projecting

“yo can you send me your answers so i can compare mine?” but he copies it and says “we got the same answers” (all men do is lie</3)

calculates his marks; “ok so i need at least a 80 on this...oh wait no, a 95...damn okay...”

the type to arrives late with ice coffee

SEONGHWA:

wakes up at 5 am to study instead of staying up

scented candles and lofi music for the ~studying mood~

a linguistic learner

learns best by teaching others so he’ll do group studies often to help other people

teaches people without making them feel dumb

uses grammarly for his emails with 3 paragraphs asking 1 question with a proper greeting and a ‘sincerely, park seonghwa’

professor: ok - sent from iphone

you’ll never see him during exams week, he’s Gone

a loyal user of the outline method

his desk must be cleared at all times! a clean workspace makes it easier to focus

brings extra pencil just in case anyone needs them bc he’s the sweetest person ever (he’s fully aware that he’ll never get them back but it’s okay bc sharing is caring)

does his readings on time (you’ll never catch him slacking)

actually has his shit together for the most part 1/2

YUNHO:

writes “i love you” or “sorry” at the end of his tests (that he bombed)

the type to ask you to print “just one thing real quick” and it’s 15 page and at 2 am

uses emojis like :D & \(^o^)/ when sending emails to his professors

has a bad habit of copying word for word on the slide and he doesn’t actually understand/learn anything

goes to the library bc he thinks that’ll help him be in the ~studying vibe~

it doesn’t. ends up texting or watching youtube gameplay

has never heard of the colour-coding system in his entire life and ends up with a page filled with neon highlight

snacks breaks are the only thing keeping him Normal

leaves himself an encouraging note at the end of the reading page so when he’s finished he feels good !!

friends with all of the professors and uses all office hours

strongest points are his guessing skills in multiple-choice questions (process of elimination ftw!)

he tries his best, doesn’t care about marks that much because he knows it doesn’t determine him (and he’s right!)

YEOSANG:

probably runs a studyblr/gram

has the cutest note ever, his handwriting is so pretty!!

he thinks that buying an ipad pro & apple pencil will make him smarter

likes it bc he can doodle on it then erase them easily :”)

has to wear blue ray glasses because of how he looks at a screen so much

mildliners, muji 0.38 gel pen, 6 ring binder, minimal planner, washi tapes, you name it! he visits muji and daiso every other week

buys wayyy too many planners and notebooks which he never ends up using

only uses pastel mildliners because they’re easy on the eyes. cringes every time he sees yunho’s highlighters v_v

his flaw is that he spends 10 mins writing his header with brush tip pens

mutes the group project gc but gets his part done like the good classmate he is

sweats every time he gets an assignment back, takes a whole ten minute to mentally prepare himself

a visual learner; makes mind maps, flow charts, etc

actually has a working printer that he uses pretty often to prints lessons before class just to be Extra prepare

tells everyone he slept well but his bullet journal habit tracker for sleep says otherwise (plz rest!!)

exclusively uses college ruled paper like the sane person he is

SAN:

uses wide-ruled paper (unfortunately not everyone is perfect</3)

starts off very positive, motivated, and organized

then everything goes downhill by the second week

will definitely set byeol on top of his keyboard, take a picture, and send it to his professor as an ‘excuse’ as why he needs an extension (it works)

can’t sit still for any longer than 30 mins, his legs are always bouncing or fidgeting with pen

flashcard king! spends a lot of time on them but it’s worth it

a utensil chewer (always willing to share his pencil but when ppl saw the bite marks they’re like No Thanks >_>)

can’t study well with groups or himself bc he’ll be distracted,,, so he needs one person that can ground him bc when they’re in the zone, he will too be on his x game mode

sends his assignment at 11:58 pm hoping his professor will take the Hint (plz don’t be afraid to ask for help u_u)

prefers listening to ghibli studio soundtracks but then he either gets emotional or sleepy

sometimes forget to mute his mic and we just hear him groaning in frustration

“haha sorry i just stubbed my toe...”

then mutes his mic and goes back to his mental breakdown

MINGI:

the only person that studies every single day just to get his brain used to the information and running

probably listens to anime op or edm music for that Energy Boost

everyone either hates or love him because...

1. loves him bc he always comes clutched with study guides (and willing to share if he likes you enough)

2. he’s good at everything even if he’s not paying attention/doing it last minute

just naturally good at retaining information and applying them

asks Big Brain question that even the professors are shook

sometimes he gets super into the topic and wants to know Everything

“i’ve never failed an exam in my life” and he’s right! big brain mingi

fetal flaw is that he forgets easily (hence why the last minute) and has to write on his palm as a reminder

clicks his pens All the time so he switched to pens with caps just to keep others from jumping him

takes naps 10 mins before classes

actually has his shit together for the post part 2/2

“if no one got me, i know khan academy and quizlet got me. can i get an amen”

WOOYOUNG:

y’all know that one mf that doesn’t have a pencil?

yea he’s been using the same one someone lend to him before a test and never returned it

it’s been two months and it’s still working well and they’re never going to get it back

a minimalist,,,, but in a bad way</3 bc he carries his stolen pencil and paper that he spilled his energy drink over and that’s about it

just throw loose papers in his bag and forgets about their existence

doesn’t do binders or notebooks, just crumbled up paper

sometimes carries a textbook just to show everyone that he’s got his life together

really noisy for No reason, always wants to know other’s marks

a kinesthetic learner

hides his screen with he gets the kahoot questions wrong (you’ll never catch him slippin)

plays coolmathgames.com during class

doesn’t really know what to study/prioritize so he overwhelms himself with every single topic ever

thinks he’s god by pulling an all-nighter to look at the 60+ slides last minute

Swears he’ll change and do better next semester,,,</3

goes to the cafe, takes pictures of his notes & laptop, post it on his story, then leaves

JONGHO:

thrives off of red bull and ice americanos

gets notes and study guides from his upperclassmen because everyone loves jongho

an audio learner so he’ll probably work out or go on a jog while listening to lessons/audiobook

never pulls all-nighters bc it messes up his sleep schedule and says he’ll do it in the morning but he never does

doesn’t even own a highlighter, he’ll circle or underline stuff with a red or black pen

has never touched a textbook in his life

only the study guides and slides, his textbook is collecting dust rn

his notes are literally Only for him because his handwriting only makes sense to him

has questionable handwriting,,, it’s like decoding

multitasks a lot but it ends up taking a lot longer than he wanted to (bc it’s a myth)

very spontaneous; he’ll grind for 5 hours straight but sometimes he won’t even touch a pencil

works best when he talks about the work in groups and share information with each other, like having a convo about the topic

unmutes his mic Once after the lesson to say “bye”

does his work right after the lessons but then takes a short break & doesn’t even Look back for the rest of the night

a/n: tag yourself ! i’m a bit of hohong (i projected myself on all of them in some way lmaooo)

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jinbestboy · 3 years

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☁️thirty questions tag game☁️

tagged by // @jimindelune and @hazeltae thank you both so much i loved reading all your answers and have decided i’m in love with you both // answers under the cut bc she’s a long one

name/nickname: my full name is emma but i almost exclusively go by em unless i’m in trouble

star sign: taurus 🥰

hight: 6’2” someone call jack i think i’m his missing beanstalk

birthday: april 29 ‘98

favorite band: i mean…….. there’s the obvious answer, but outside of the kpop world id say state champs neck deep and say anything

time: 9pm ish

favorite solo artist: kpop solo is hands down IU she is out of this world, non kpop is hobo johnson

song stuck in your head: all in my head by hobo johnson (ive been really in the feels with him lately)

last movie you watched: it was still when i saw in the hights with @vantehobi i don’t watch movies :/

free space: i hope everyone had a good week last week! i’m gonna try and be more active on here again last week was so crazy with getting to see julie again and then being sad about not seeing julie anymore the whole rest of the week, anyways i missed you all love love muah. oh also this took me literally 2 days to finish why am i like this

last show: i’m watching this series on peacock with my mom called escape to the chateau and it’s ab this british couple who buy a disheveled and worn down 5 story french chateau and renovate it to live in/use for weddings and i love it sm. and as always i have parks or the office on at any given moment

when i created this blog: i’ve had it since 2015 on and off but i swapped over to a bangtan blog fully around october of last year

what i post: an absolutely nonsensical stream of consciousness in the tags of posts made by people who actually contribute to this hellsite

last thing i googled: color dropper online for the 10495903 time because i changed my theme 3 times in a day

other blogs: i keep saying i’m gonna make a girl group blog but i cant even get myself to be on this one as much as i want to be

do i get asks?: every now and then i get one from a mutual but i’m pretty sure mobile tumblr eats like at least 75% of the asks i get because i always get notifications for asks but then i go to my asks and nothing new is there it’s very frustrating so sorry if you send me an ask and it goes unanswered i probably didn’t get it at all i’m so sorry

why did i chose my url?: because kim seokjin is the absolute bestest boy and i think it’s about time that fact is publicly recognized

following?: idk like 460 something?

followers?: yes i love them 🤲🏼

average hours of sleep: fortunately i don’t start work until noon every day so i can stay up until 3 am and still get 7/8 hours of sleep which really works out. sometimes i only get 4 though bc ✌🏻🤪✌🏻

lucky number: mmmmmmm yeah no not a concept i think i can get behind anymore

instruments: i can play the ukulele! and i really wanna learn the drums and the piano but both are time consuming and expensive

what am i wearing?: a tube top and sweatpants and my knock off mic drop socks that just say mic on both sides :)

dream job?: doing what yoongi actually applied to big hit for

favorite food: this changes by the week but i’ll eat about anything with pasta or peach flavoring. also dumplings.

tea or coffee: water please 🥰🥰

nationality: unfortunately i am all american

favorite song: no no, no. i have favorite songS that are all very important to me for different reasons i can’t get myself to explain rn but atm the toppers are 28 and spring day ALWAYS, epiphany, paradise, 134340, home, serendipity, cry for me and also likey by twice, romeo and juliet and also mover awayer and also all in my head by hobo johnson, all you are is history by state champs, and the entirety of …Is a Real Boy by say anything. all of these tend to sit at the top of the list generally but by no means are all my favorites. how dare i be asked to pick a favorite ugh

last book i read: i don’t remember the last time i had the motivation to read thats so upsetting but i always recommend I’ll Give You the Sun by jandy nelson

top three virtual universes you’d want to live in: gonna just let my full weeb out on this one so bear with me; the house they move to in my neighbor totoro is my ultimate dream in life, soul eater so i can be best friends with black star, and kill la kill because i like girls thank you

tagging // @mykrokosmos @yoongisshadow @ccypher3 @sugacutie @jaehyukkies @cowboyjinbop @taejinnies @bibillyhillsbaby @strawberryjimi @rmftjin @stardustyoongi @ftyoongi @flowerkth @floraljimin and also @vantehobi even though i know you won’t do it and it’s fine i just can’t not tag you ok love you most muah

#tag games #hello hello hello how is everyone doing this fine monday evening #this frickin tag game has taken me way too long to do and every time i saved the draft mobile dumblr would fuck something up #sigh #anyways never any pressure to participate but i love reading what everyones up to these days #makes me feel like i actually have friends and a social life #big love all around stay happy stay healthy

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ruanbaijie · 3 years

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I got tagged in a bunch of tag games recently but I’ve been putting the off for a loooooonnnnggg time because a certain drama (hint: the abbreviation is three letters long, the last character rhymes with “ring”) has been occupying every single second of my free time (눈_눈)

but now that I have some pockets of time to spare! I’m just gonna club all the tag games together into a monster post ( ` ω ´ )

a big thank you to everyone who tagged me!!!!! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

tag game #1

tagged by @tiesanjiao @sillyfanturtle

recreate your blog’s aesthetic as a drink 🍸

make one here

this one was so fun! the number of choices omg I was spoiled and I took so long to decide which to go with lol. I don’t really know what this monstrosity is??? I just picked these for the pinks/ muted reds and greens

but my irl aesthetic is more something like this below. and my dumb gothic-loving ass thought that background was a graveyard and it took me a closer scrutiny to realise it’s a bar... (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

tag game #2

tagged by @linglynz

I don’t know what this one’s called, but I guess it’s something along the lines of recreating a mouse here!

I’m... boring. hanyi’s motto in life, probably: make it black. there are little devil horns but they’re black too so they’re blending in...

tag game #3

tagged by @yibobibo

You can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your favourite playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs then tag ten people! No skipping!

OHO favourite playlist you say........ okay I’ll have to find one of my favourites that has at least 10 songs ahaaa

SHI-KI (Atsushi Suemitsu) - from Shiki (this remains one of my favourite instrumental anime soundtracks to date it’s just so damn atmospheric and good)

Tian Wen (Liu Yuning) - from Shan He Ling (well...)

Ai Shang (Xiao Shi Gu Niang) - from Goodbye My Princess

Enigma (After Journey) - from My Roommate is a Detective

Chi Qing Zhong Instrumentals with Vocals Version (Deng Lun) - from Qing Ya Ji (*cough cough cough*)

Eau de Vie (Atsushie Suemitsu) - from Shiki

Huo Shui (Shu Linzuo) - from The Sleuth of Ming Dynasty

Chi Qing Zhong (Deng Lun) - from Qing Ya Ji

Be Ok (I’ll) - from Zombie Detective

Warriors (2WEI & Edda Hayes)

yeahhh I listen to a lot of soundtracks

tag game #4

tagged by @livenarrator

post the top 10 songs you’re currently vibing to

pretty similar to the one above! but here are another 10 anyways ehe

Bridge of Fate (Wang Leehong & Tan Weiwei) - from The Great Wall

Sheng Er Wu Wei (Wang Ziyi) - from S.W.A.T.

Fireworks Cool Easily (Jay Chou)

Diamond (Ha Hyun Woo) - from Itaewon Class

Yong Ye (Tan Weiwei) - from Ever Night

Awaken (Su Shiding) - from My Roommate is a Detective

Wu Bie (Jeff Chang) - from Tian Guan Ci Fu

Wu Ti (Hu Xia) - from Shan He Ling

Tian Ya Ke (Zhang Zhehan & Gong Jun) - from Shan He Ling

Gu Meng (Zhang Zhehan) - from Shan He Ling

and last but not least, tag game #5

tagged by @inessencedevided

rules: create your own post and tag 9 people to get to know better or catch up with

last song listened to: Tian Wen from Shan He Ling - because I was answering the tag game above alsdklflksdlkf (ง ื▿ ื)ว

last movie watched: The Yin Yang Master 2021 aka Shi Shen Ling - I got baited by (white) long-haired chen kun let’s just leave it at that

currently reading: just finished Po Yun by Huai Shang - IT’S SO DAMN GOOD PLEASE READ IT HUAI SHANG NEEDS MORE LOVE - next up probably 2ha reread

currently craving: travel - I think I’ve been saying I’ve been craving travel for the longest time now singapore is... damn small

current project: at work??? leisure project??? if it’s the latter, I probably have to get my ass cracking and start doing this week’s march gif challenge but I have Zero Inspiration (⇀‸↼‶)

current mood: pretty chill and relaxed bc finally I’m done with live giffing shl, but also nervous and ambivalent bc hyx is starting soon, and lastly excited bc tomorrow I’m gonna have my first bubble tea in three months (self-imposed diet, not related to any lockdown)

current wish: see “currently craving”

currently learning: nothing much?

something that makes you proud: how far I’ve progressed in giffing ever since january 2020 ฅ(^◕ᴥ◕^)ฅ

#tag game #SO MANY TAG GAMES #AHAHAH

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theanimesideblog · 4 years

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Nishinoya x Kiyoko’s Adopted Brother!Reader: Realization TW: internalized homophobia if you squint, mean noya Summary: Nishinoya despises you for being so perfect, and you want to know why he hates you. The truth comes out, albeit not the truth that Nishinoya wanted A/N: the adopted part isn’t central to the story but i didn't want anyone to feel like they couldn’t read it bc they don’t look like kiyoko. and uhhh i’m not super proud of this BUT NOYA IS DEFINITELY LIKE GAY OR SMTH THAT MAN ISNT STRAIGHT my gay ass refuses to believe he’s straight

“Goodnight, guys.” You said, waving enthusiastically as you and Kiyoko walked off toward your home. The team bids the two of you goodbye before going their separate ways.

Noya and Tanka were walking together, making idle chat before they would eventually go split up. The streetlight bounced off their tired forms as they grew closer to their destination.

“I’m kinda glad our practices are taking up more time this year. It’s nice to see (Y/N) after school. Lunch is never enough time around that dude.” Tanka said, out of the blue while the two of them talked about your sister. Noya blushed, thankful for the low streetlight.

“Yeah.” Noya mumbled.

“He’s hilarious too! I mean, it’s almost mean how much (Y/N) teases Hinata. Luckily Hinata’s got great spirit and is too gullable to take things seriously.” Tanka said.

“Uh huh.”

“You good man? Why are you sluggish?” Tanka asked. Noya shook his head and rubbed his face.

“I’m just... tired. All that studying for exams is killing me.” Noya lied. Tanka smiled and hit Noya on the back.

“Don’t I know it. Get some rest tonight. Can’t have our guardian sleeping on the job.” Tanka said. Noya smiled.

“In your dreams.” Noya said. Tanka shivered.

“More like my nightmares, ugh.” Tanka said.

Despite Tanka’s pleas for sleep, Noya found himself wide awake as the moon slowly made her way across the sky. His mind kept drifting back to you or, more accurately, the way you made him feel.

Noya hated you. He hated your damn smile, your infectious laughter, your humorous jokes, your kindness. Hell, Noya could probably write a textbook on all your faults.

If he had to pick one thing he hated the most about you, it would be your arrogance. You must have gotten love confessions from every girl in the school, minus your sister. Yet, you turned them all down. If Noya were in your shoes, he would never break all those hearts like that.

It irked Noya. No one ever loved him like that, but everyone loved you. Everyone wanted to eat lunch with you, go on dates, or just be your friend. Sometimes, Noya felt like Tanka liked you better than he liked Noya.

Even Noya found himself getting lost in your eyes a couple of times. You were enchanting, and Noya hated that about you.

-*-

You were sitting against the wall, doing homework as you waited for Kiyoko to finish up volleyball practice. Your club always finished before hers, and you refused to let her walk home alone in the dark. On more busy practices, you would help the team. Today was more relaxed, though, in order to let the boys recover a bit from yesterday.

There was one last question in your English packet to answer. You started to write the answer, when you heard Dachi yell, “(Y/N)!! LOOK OUT!!”

You quickly slid against the wall and onto the floor before registering where the ball was. It bounced right above your head and ricocheted onto your stomach. You let out a small groan, thankful that most of the ball’s power and speed hit the wall instead of your head. Kiyoko was already at your side.

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking you over for any bruises. Other than your neck hurting from sliding down at such a weird angle, you were fine. You sat back up.

“Yeah, thanks to Dachi.” You said. You sent a smile to the captain, who was scolding Noya for being so reckless. You frowned and handed the ball to Kiyoko.

“Ah, maybe I should move somewhere else?” You said. “Perhaps even sitting outside until I finish my work.” Kiyoko gave you a gentle smile.

“Only if you want too.” She said. “Practice is almost over, anyway.” You shrugged, deciding to stay in your spot.

The rest of practice went accident free. You helped the boys clean up the gym, eager to get home. Hopefully, a warm shower would ease the pain in your neck. If not, ice should do the trick.

But Kiyoko had to stay and talk some things over with the Coach while the boys went to get changed. You opted to lean against the wall and scroll through your phone as the two conversed outside of the gym.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. I think if it was a real game-” Coach Ukai started, but was cut off by the gym door opening. The janitor was there with a jacket in his hand.

“I’m assuming this is one of your boys’?” He said. Kiyoko took it from him, showing the coach the volleyball club detailing on the back.

“It is. Sorry about that. Won’t happen again.” Coach Ukai said. The janitor nodded and went back into the gym. Kiyoko turned to you.

“I think someone is still in the clubroom. Would you mind seeing who is still here? I would go, but I’m not allowed in the boys’ club room.” Kiyoko said. You took it from her and nodded.

You checked the tag of the jacket, hoping to see a name. You found none, but you noticed it was a small size. That meant that it was either Hinata’s or Nishinoya’s. You hoped it was the former, since Hinata actually liked you.

You knew Nishinoya didn’t like you, but you weren’t sure why. He didn’t hide his emotions as well as he might have thought he did. You caught the sneers and the frowns. You wondered if he didn’t like you since you told him and Tanaka off one day after they flirted with Kiyoko. But Tanaka liked you.

It didn’t bother you that Nishinoya didn’t like you. You knew you couldn’t please everyone, but it was uncomfortable to be around him. Which sucked, since you two shared a lot of friends. What really hurt was how he was with others.

Nishinoya seemed like the most genuine person you knew. He always spoke up about what was on his mind and make sure everyone knew it. It was an attractive quality of his, yet he never offered it to you. His double nature made distrust him, unsure why he was so cold around you.

You opened the door to the clubroom and, to your dismay, Nishinoya was looking around for his jacket. His head whipped to see who entered, a bright smile plastered on his face. It dropped when he saw you.

The heavy door shut behind you, which felt suffocating. You almost got hit by Nishinoya today and he hadn’t apologized or even attempted to smooth things over. That was probably the worst part; he hadn’t shown you the decency to at least make some sort of effort. At least he didn’t blame you, or you hoped he didn’t to be more accurate.

“I think this is yours. You left it in the gym.” You said, holding out the jacket. Nishinoya snatched it from your hands. He slipped it on and turned to his bag. You frowned and crossed your arms.

“‘Thanks, (Y/N).’ No problem, Nishinoya. By the way, Coach might say something to you. ‘Thanks for the heads up, (Y/N).’ You’re welcome, Nishinoya.” You said aloud. Nishinoya turned back and gave you a pointed stare. “You’ve been rude to me all day! Don’t give me that look.”

“Me? What the hell did I do?” Nishinoya asked, his voice raising.

“First of all, you practically ignored all day, again, in school and practice. Then, you almost hit me with a volleyball, which I get it was an accident, but you didn’t apologize or make an effort. And now you’re ignoring me again after I came up here to give you your jacket. I have no idea what your issue is with me, but if you keep this up, I’ll give you a reason to hate me.” You said. Nishinoya turned away with a huff.

“I don’t hate you, alright?” He said, standing up. “Now, could you move? I’m trying to leave.” You leaned against the door, blocking his way out. He frowned and mirrored you by crossing his arms.

“What’s your deal with me, anyway?” You asked. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”

“I don’t have a problem with you! Can you please just move?” He asked. That was probably the first time he had said please to you.

You crossed your legs in response as if you were getting comfortable in your spot. Nishinoya gripped your arm and tried to push you. His strength caught you off guard, causing you to grab his arm to catch yourself from falling. The awkward angle and tangled limbs somehow found Nishinoya’s back against the door while your arms boxed him in, your faces inches apart.

Nishinoya’s breathing got shallow as his cheeks started to dust with pink. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and all he wanted to do was punch the breathless look on your face. Thoughts of violence vanished when his eyes caught sight of your lips for a second.

You, however, didn’t feel any of this energy. You felt angry and upset. This close, however, you were able to catch his gaze on your lips. It was brief, but you saw it. Instantly, the lights when on in your head.

“I know why you’re always so rude to me.” Your voice hushed, causing shivers to run up Nishinoya’s back. He had been so rude for so long that you were getting a kick out of his eager expression. For once, it felt good to be on the other side. “You like me.”

Nishinoya’s hands went up to your shoulders. He gave you a harsh shove that sent you to the floor. You weren’t quick enough to catch yourself, landing on your back. You hissed in pain as your back came in contact with the hard floor, some of the air leaving your lungs.

Nishinoya’s eyes widened while his hands shook. “I’m not gay!” He shouted, before opening the door and running away quickly.

You groaned, sitting up. You lightly slapped your head. “Fuck, I really messed that up.”

~*~

For the rest of the week, Nishinoya refused to meet your eyes and would make an excuse anytime you were near. You felt a twinge of guilt every time he left or refused to meet your eyes.

Maybe you had gotten it wrong, but the way he looked at you in that moment, the way his eyes dared to linger, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly made you sure he was gay and he liked you. You had definitely come on too strong, though. You were embarrassed and eager to make amends.

You were coming up with an apologize when the bell ring, signaling that class was over. You were slow to move, exhausted after staying late with the team. You spotted Nishinoya’s own sluggish movements as he slowly gathered his things.

You looked around the classroom, noticing it was empty. It was now or never.

You walked over and stood in front of Nishinoya’s desk. He refused to look up at you, making your stomach twist in anxiety. You bent down.

“Nishinoya, I’m really sorry. I crossed a boundary I shouldn’t have and I... I just got really excited to know there was another gay person in my friend group, ya know? Anyway, I totally deserve the cold shoulder. You don’t even have to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m sorry and I’m aware I crossed a line.” You said, pausing to see if he would respond. Instead, he stayed perfectly still. You felt your heart twist. You stood up and started to walk towards the door when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry. I treat you like shit and you’ve never once gotten angry. You’ve always been kind and understanding. I also hurt you, which was uncalled for.” You turned to face him and smiled. He was bent over, like you were before.

“I guess we’re both dicks, huh?” You said. Nishinoya smiled despite himself. He looked up at you, smiling at one of your jokes for the first time.

“I guess so... but I have to tell you something.” Nishinoya stood up and took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about what you said and... you’re right. I hate that you’re right, but you’re right. I’m... gay. I mean, it was so obvious I didn’t want to believe it. When you said it, I got so angry because I knew it was true. I was also upset that you noticed. I didn’t want anyone to know, but here I am telling you, who’s basically a stranger. I mean, I never learned anything about you and here I am, coming out to you.”

“I’m proud of you. If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them. I understand where you’re coming from. If Kiyoko didn’t help me through it, I think I would’ve reacted the same way.” You said. Nishinoya blinked in shock.

“Oh...! Wait, is she-“

“You didn’t notice that she’s a lesbian?” You asked, eyes wide. Nishinoya seems to shrink away. You burst out into laughter.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s soooo funny! You acted like you had the biggest crush on her, yet you didn’t know she was gay! Ohmygosh!” You said in between laughter. Despite himself, Nishinoya laughed with you.

Once you composed yourself, you nodded to the door.

“Hey, you’re gonna be late to practice if you don’t hurry up, ya know?” You said. Nishinoya felt a small blush cross his cheeks.

“Yeah. Um, there’s just one thing. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. I never made an effort to try to be nice to you so... would you let me make it up to you?” Nishinoya said. You tilted your head.

“You don’t have to. I totally understand-“

“I want to take you out on a date!” He blurts out. You smile.

“Yeah?” He nods. “Alright then. What were you thinking?” He opens and closes his mouth.

“I didn’t think I’d get that far.” You let out a small laugh.

“It’s okay. Why don’t we start small and get a bite to eat after practice?” You ask.

“What about Kiyoko? You always take her home.” Noya says. You nod.

“It’s okay. She and Yachi are going to the bus stop together.” He smiles at you.

“Okay. Okay then! It’s a date.”

#me? projecting? never #not me not getting to fully learn abt my sexuality in a healthy way and hc noya as gayto cope #uh #anyway #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya yu x you #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya x you #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya x y/n #kiyoko's adopted brother!reader #male!reader #nishinoya oneshot #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #HES SO CUTE IN THAT GIF #tw internalized homophobia

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