#I typed that as a joke but I realized actually that's red's entire thing here
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A mysterious traveling hermit arrives at the royal ball. Though he has no business being there, he does arrive with a formal invite. The king’s guards seem ready to throw him out at the first sign of trouble, and he’s not even sure why he’s here in the first place.
Red is the illegitimate son of the current king, making him the older half-brother to the current heir to the throne (@unovasrose), and he’s completely unaware of this fact. However the person who invited him (@silverdeer), had suspicions about it when she met him deep in the woods on the outskirts of the kingdom. She invited him to stir up trouble, and Red had no reason to go, but maybe he just wants to annoy some upper class idiots.
Though he’s met various creatures in his travels, he arrives with his Pikachu named Spark on his shoulder. Spark is more enthused about being here than he is.
He was born on the outskirts of a neighboring kingdom, and frankly doesn’t pay much attention to borders. He goes wherever he pleases ever since he left home at 14, looking to travel and see the world beyond normal civilization. Who knows how the current king met Red’s mother, but he has to some extent been aware of Red’s existence, and hoped he would never darken his door.
Has spent long periods of time on a distant freezing mountain with his father figure and mentor, Articuno. He’s fairly skilled with the fire magic he was born with, and ice magic that he acquired through him as a result. Admittedly a bit more adept in terms of fire however, it comes to him more naturally.
#fire doesn't dance to their dictates; and now you're dancing with the greats 🔥 red / royal ball au#burn away what you must in order to thrive 🔥 red headcanons#arriving fashionably late to the party#I typed that as a joke but I realized actually that's red's entire thing here
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drunk!steve harrington x fem!reader
(fluff; wc- >1k)
okay but can you imagine being at a party, laying in a random bedroom, trying to stop the world from spinning around you. you’d been laying there for the past 30 minutes in the dark, praying that the drunkness was waring off at that point. it had actually started to work until you heard someone stumble into the room.
the lights still off you couldn’t tell who the person was until they threw themselves next to you and turned on the bedside lamp.
“oh hello” you heard the voice say next to you, looking up it was steve harrington, boy toy. he was in his classic, knit sweater pushed up to the elbows, khaki, white converse. you would never admit it to anyone but his classic was the type of stuff you saw in your dreams at night.
you didn’t know how to speak to him. he hadn’t looked your direction—ever, and the only reason you were in the same vicinity was because one of your friends begged you to go so she can get sight of eddie.
“what do you want?” there was a bite behind your voice, slight albeit still there. steve made a small frown, lip jutting out in an over exaggerated pout.
“that’s not very nice of you” he sighed, scooting down so his head was at eye level with you. his hair fanned out around his head, hands crossed gracefully across his chest. he was drunk, glazed eyes blinking slowly at the spinning ceiling fan.
“i had the room first.”
he turned his head to look at you before shifting his body so he was facing you, the both of you curled into each others directions.
“and i had it second, yn.”
your heart made a jump, falling into your stomach as you realized he knew your name.
“you see, i was hoping,” he began, voice deep with the drowsy effect of the alcohol on his system. hiccups teetered on every other word of his. “that i could just lay here and ac-” hiccup “-quaint myself with a new” hiccup “friend.”
you quirked an eyebrow at the ‘friend’. he chuckled, noticing the expression.
“okay fine. im piss drunk,” and another hiccup “i can’t focus on anything right now and just really need to sober up”
and there he was, classic steve. you rolled your eyes, humored by him. a conversation quipped up between the two of you, beginning at the topic of small talk at the party to more, intricate details of your personal lives.
the things you talked about that night were miscellaneous, random thoughts. they were topics you both clicked on though, laughter echoing through the room as his poorly constructed dad jokes interrupted your stories. he was funny after all you discovered. there was more up there in that brain other than the farrah fawcett hairspray fumes.
“yn?” he asked, laughter still on his breath. you stared up into his eyes, watched as they crinkled at the corners.
“im glad i met you tonight.”
biting your lip in excitement, you flushed in the face—red pooling at your cheeks.
“me too, steve.”
“you’re beautiful, yn,” he continued, voice dropped into a whisper. his face was closer to yours, your gaze falling down to look at his lips. “truly so… so beautiful”
he leaned in slowly, glancing into your eyes once more before his lips met yours. it was unsure at first, steve testing the waters as you leaned into the kiss further. as you took his lips between yours, you wish you could say that it was fireworks, something you’d seen described in a teeny magazine—but it was so much more. it was a pulsing sensation throughout your entire body, a proclamation of a feeling you had never explained before.
he pulled away after a moment, licking the taste of you off of his lips. steve placed a small peck on you again, before shutting his eyes with again with a smile.
he sighed, contentment behind his voice, “time to sleep, yn.”
and you closed your eyes, tucking your face into his chin, corner of your mouth tugging into a small smile. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to not be giddy over the moment. a giggle threatened to explode from you but you fought it back, chewing the inside of your lip. his arm came to lay at your waist, steve sighing as he made himself comfortable as well.
and if the two of you fell asleep face to face that night, no one would know. his arm draped over your waist, nose pressed into the top of your hairline as you curled up into him.
you two wouldn’t talk about it come monday morning when school was in session. you would walk by him and he by you, arm wrapped around a different girl than the previous week. you would spare glances at each other, small smile on your face as you saw him wink in your direction, hidden from his group of friends.
that night was something special between the two of you, something that couldn’t be taken away. it was a secret you both shared, a memory meant that would only be dreamt of at night in the dark of each other’s rooms.
#my writing#fanfic#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#blurb#fluff#i’ve been thinking of this lately#and i can’t help but put it in words#like#?????#steve is insane but he’s my bby#also you don’t realize i searched for an hour for this gif
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ lights | prt. 2
Summary: dating ellie was a battle, but maybe her cheating on you, was the start of something new.
cw: toxic!ellie, biker!abby, fem reader, cursing, cheating, smoking, mentions of the reader having curly hair.
Note: When you see ・❥・, it means the pov is switching. This is unedited again.
That night….the same night ellie cheated on you, was the same night you met Abby.
The same night, you finally learned how to feel human.
It wasn’t normal for someone to move on this fast, especially when you hadn’t offically broke up with ellie. But can you truly call it moving on, if you never felt there? Can it really be considered cheating if she cheated first?
Your mind filled with even more questions then before, only increasing the pounding in your head.
To be honest with yourself, Abby made you feel more love in one night, then Ellie had during your entire relationship.
Just her simple gestures, were more affectionate then ellie ever had been.
The tension between you and Abby was sheer from the moment she laid eyes on you.
She wasn’t the type to try and “pick up a girl” at a party, let alone teach one how to hold a cigarette properly—but you were different. Something about you made it hard for her to say no to you.
-
Abby was wearing a black leather jacket, with a grey cut sleeve underneath.
You eyed her down as she pulled the jacked it off her back, exposing her muscles while she moved to wrap it around you. Before you could, she took notice of your cold cheeks, now red, and your arms shivering through the exposed lace sleeves on your thin dress.
She pulled the collar of the jacket closer to your chest, your eyes locking as she looked up for a moment, before turning back to lean against the wall.
“So, you wanna tell me why you’re out here?” She asked, still smoking the cigarette she had taken from your mouth.
You sighed, fidgeting with her jacket.
“Well, My girlfriend is currently inside mouth fucking another girl” you spitted out, Abby laughing at your sudden change in tone.
“Oh shit” she replied.
“While you look like that?” She questioned, slightly smirking while tapping the cigarette on the wall in between you.
“Mmm I don’t think the way I look ever stopped her before” you joked.
She looked over at you, her gaze softening at the realization of your words.
“And you’re still with her?” She asked, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.
“I don’t know at this point” you answered, turning your head towards the grown, your eyes falling towards the now burn out cigarette bud.
“I guess after tonight we’re not really a thing anymore..I mean I knew we weren’t really ‘together together’ from the start, but tonight was the first time I actually caught her cheating out in the open. But I’m sure she’ll find a way to deny this too, make me seem like I’m crazy or something” You spit out.
You lifted your head from the ground to look at Abby just for a moment—instantly regretting how much you were opening up to a complete stranger.
“So, why are you out here and not in there confronting her?” she asked again, this time empathizing her true question.
You hesitated before answering, Abby looking over at your hands still fidgeting with the jacket.
“It’s not worth it. If anything I’d be embarrassing myself, everyone knows ellie can’t keep a relationship. Id look stupid for even trying”. You answered, not paying attention to the words coming out of your mouth.
“Ellie???” She questioned
“You’re dating fucking ellie??? As in Williams?? Wow, I should’ve known by the way you described her” she added on.
“What is that suppose to mean?” You asked, taking a shock to her reaction.
Abby looked over at you, quickly realizing you were being serious.
“Common, everyone knows the kind of player she is, she has this innate fear of going a week without sex….I swear I seen her fucking my roommate nearly 30 times. don’t stress over her” she answered, grabbing your hand to break your fidgeting.
Your eyes met her for a moment, but before you could speak—you were cut off by the sound of people talking.
-
Two girls swung around the corner, stumbling over each others feet.
“Oh my goshhhh, hey abbyyy” one of them said, taking a sip from her half empty cup.
“Hey” Abby replied.
The girls looked over at you, studying you up and down.
“Ohhhhhh sorry are we interrupting something??” She asked, looking back at Abby.
“We will leave” she said through a laugh, pulling her her friend back around the corner.
You and Abby turned to eachother, locking eyes again as you pulled away from her grip on your hand.
“Did you know those girls” you questioned.
“Yea, sorry about that, they’re friends with sai” she answered.
-
Sai.
Abby’s roommate..and one of the many girls ellie had been cheating on you with.
how convient.
・❥・
While you and Abby continued outside, sai’s friends made their way back inside, running to tell her the news.
“Sai, sai, sai” they yelled, ecstatic.
“What…Jesus why are you guys so hyper??” Sai replied, standing up from her seat on Ellie’s lap.
“Guesssss who we just saw picking up a girl” they said, ellie unwillingly hearing in on the conversation.
“Who?” Sai asked, becoming more interested.
“You’re roomate…Abby…she gave the girl her jacket omgithink they’re gonna fu-“ sai put a finger over her friends mouth.
-
As sai and the girls spoke, Ellie didn’t pay much attention to the topic conversation, other than what she had to hear.
While She knew Abby, since they had met one night when her and sai had hooked up, they never exchanged words.
Even though she would never admit it, Ellie was intimidated by Abby. To be fair, Abby was talller, muscular and hot. it showed when they looked at eachother. The stares ellie gave her, always leaving sai to reassure her that Abby wasn’t a threat.
・❥・
“Aren’t you cold?” You asked Abby, breaking the awkward silence that lingered after the two girls had left.
You were too busy racing between thoughts, you hadn’t fully notice to her exposed arms, her muscles now on display through the cut sleeves.
“I’m good don’t worry, I bet you’re legs are freezing through” she joked.
“Yea…” you replied, not being able to even feel them, at this point they’d gone numb.
“So, what do you think you’re going to do now?” She questioned.
“I have no idea” You sighed again, hugging your arms to your chest—the warm fabric of her jacket sending a fuzzy feeling through your body.
“well….I could help you” she replied, her tone shifting.
“Help me?” You questioned, looking over at her.
“Help you get your mind off Ellie” she said, teasing again and pushing your shoulder playfully.
“Ohhhh I see” you laughed.
“No no I’m serious, don’t think sexual….I mean that we can just hangout, you could use a distraction im sure”
“Are you sure?” You questioned, looking up at her genuine.
How could she possibly say no to you.
“I’m positive, I’ll make you forget she was ever alive” she replied, grabbing your hands again and leading you away.
-
When you and her arrived at the front of the house, you stopped in your tracks.
“Wait I never agreed that i would go with you on this” you said, letting go of abbys hand and stepping back as she grabbed a helmet off her bike.
“how else did you think we were going to leave love, you didn’t drive here did you?” She said laughing.
“Well no…i just thought-“ your words were quickly cut off.
“Can you trust me?” She asked, giving you the same genuine look you had given her.
Her question caught you off gaurd, making You stutter through your words.
“I…um, i don’t-“ you tried to think of the right thing to say.
“I guess I can..for now” you answered.
“Okay” she laughed again, placing the helmet over your head and lowering the clear end over your eyes.
“Then let’s go” she said, grabbing the other helmet and sitting over her bike.
You stood on the edge of the lawn, hesitant again.
As much as Abby made you feel safe in that moment, you really did just meet, putting you on edge for a minute.
“Common” she said, stretching out her hand for you to get on.
“Don’t be scared” she teased.
“I’m not scared..” you said pouting, grabbing her hand and getting on.
As you sat down, Abby grabbed both of your hands, wrapping them around her waist for you.
“Hold on” she said, kicking the break off the ground and starting the bike up.
You two road off, the cold air blowing your curly hair around the helmet. Abby occasionally asking if you were okay at every red light, the suspense of the ride making you feel euphoric.
・❥・
Sai paused as her friend pushed her finger away from her lips.
“Well, show us so we can observe” she insisted.
Her friend quickly took sai’s hand, pulling her through the crowd of people
When they got outside, they were met with the sight of you and Abby talking in front of her bike.
“SEE SEE THATS THEM” one of the girls yelled.
“Who is the girl??” Sai questioned.
Ellie had followed all three of them outside, sai looking back at her as a signal to follow along.
“Holy shit” Ellie said, louder then she meant to, accidentally cutting off one of the girls about to answer sai’s wonders.
the three girls looked back at her, sai glancing at her with concern.
“Is something wrong el?” Sai asked.
“I-um, no i just, know the girl Abby is with, but we’re not close, it just surprised me” she said, her words shaking through each breathe.
Sai and the girls turned their gaze back over to you and Abby, Ellie watching even closer now as the tall blonde placed her helmet over your head.
The four watched incessantly. From the moment she placed the helmet on you, till the moment you two road off together.
“It’s about time she found a fuck buddy” sai said, turning back and nudging ellies shoulder.
This time, Ellie didn’t move, she just starred you two down until you were completely out of sight.
-
Ellie was furious to say the least. If she had knew you were at the party, she would’ve never came with sai. She would’ve found a way to get you alone, and make everything right as always. She felt fucking insane.
This time, she knew she couldn’t come up with an excuse. She was certain you had seen her and sai inside, all over eachother.
“Why else would she have gone off with a random ass girl??” She thought to herself.
She was lost with what to do. Ellie had never felt such a sense of guilt before, the knot in her stomach making her turmoil.
There was no explanation for any of it. She couldn’t understand why suddenly, she needed you more than anything, why seeing you with Abby suddenly made her desire you.
After being unloyal, lying, manipulating, and a complete bitch, why did she feel so needy?
Everyone knew Ellie would sleep with a bird if it gave her attention. She had used you as a leach, someone only worth falling back on when she was done leaping.
Yet somehow, after seeing you with Abby, her outlook on it all changed.
Everything changed
#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#tlou#🫧 sena#abby x you#tlou fic#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x reader#ellie williams tlou2#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#abby anderson#abby x fem!reader
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Streamer! Carl Grimes x Streamer! reader
Like Chandler Riggs, Carl Grimes in a normal world would also totally be a streamer. Here’s a peek into what it might be like to be his streamer crush! (Also I’m pushing a slight resident evil agenda in this, I grew up watching my dad and brother play them and waited with bated breath to actually be able to play them myself! It’s my favorite video game series of all time if you can’t tell lol)
For maximum enjoyment, please watch the clip I put right under this because I referenced it in this story!
“Do I know who (your screen name) is?” Carl says, reading his chat. “No, I’ve never heard of them, gimme a second.” He picks his phone up off his desk and types the name into google, coming up with endless pictures of you playing video games, doing cooking and baking streams, making art, reacting to the memes people made for you, all the things your streams are widely loved for. Realizing he was quiet for longer than he probably should’ve been, he speaks up. “Oh yeah I’ve seen her before, she does awesome resident evil speedruns! I didn’t recognize the name at first, but yeah, I know who she is!”
“Omg he’s blushing!”
“Is bro blushing rn?”
“Looks like no one’s immune to the charms of (y/s/n) lmfao”
The teasing comments poured in while Carl did his best to play it cool and laugh them off, “yeah she’s pretty cute,” he admits through a soft smile as he focuses on the game he was streaming before he looked you up. Teasing chats trickled in every once in a while, but for the most part, the topic was changed completely and by the time the stream was over he had almost forgotten about the situation entirely.
Little did he know that the next day your viewers would also ask you if you knew Carl. Having been a streamer for quite some time you’ve seen a lot of clips of other streamers and you immediately recognized the name Carl. “Oh my god, is that the dude who sucks at fall guys?” You joked as you pulled up the clip of him failing epically at fall guys. “If you get eliminated at this part then you don’t deserve a single win,” he said, seconds before getting eliminated on the exact part he was referring to. “He’s fucking hilarious,” you remarked as you smiled while you watched the video. Well, that didn’t go unnoticed by any of your viewers either.
“She’s straight up giggling and kicking her feet lol”
“He called you cute on his stream yesterday”
“He called you cute on his stream yesterday”
Man, did your fans come in clutch or what? Returning to your game, you saved that bit of information for later, knowing that it probably got clipped and posted by now. After you finished up your game and ended the stream you finally got to look up the clip. You couldn’t help but laugh while you watched him read the comments and grow more and more red with each one that came in. “Yeah, she’s pretty cute.” THERE IT IS! HE ACTUALLY SAID IT!! This was all you needed to want to reach out.
A couple of days later, Carl was streaming again as usual when he felt his phone vibrate. A DM from…(y/s/n)?? Holy shit, okay, play it cool. He tried to hide his shock and excitement as he opened the message but still, a goofy smile crept onto his face while he read it.
“Hey, Carl! It’s come to my attention that we have quite a bit of an overlapping fanbase so I thought it’d be a great idea to play a game together sometime! Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to play fall guys ;)”
By the time he was done reading your message, the grin had broken out into a full-blown smile and he hid his nervous and excited laughing behind his hand. To no avail, his viewers saw this immediately and began teasing him, asking if (y/s/n) was making him blush again. “No guys, that’s not it, don’t worry about it,” he said, still trying to hide his bashfulness. Yet, again clocked by his fans, they knew he was lying. But they weren't the only ones who knew he wasn't telling the truth, because you had joined the stream just before you sent your message. You wanted to see him blush just by the sheer mention of you one more time, so you arranged to send it while he was streaming. You were overjoyed to see him pick up his phone, and judging by his reaction you knew he had to have read it.
He’s quiet for a minute while he types on his phone and you watch the text bubble pop up on your phone.
“I’ve noticed the same thing haha! I think that’d be awesome, but for the record, we will be playing fall guys so I can prove I’m not ‘the guy who sucks at fall guys’”
You grinned at his message, not failing to see the humor in the fact that he did the exact thing you did, looking up the clip from your stream where the chat had brought him up. You respond to his message simply and sweetly.
“Fair enough! I get to pick the game we play next time we do it then!”
“Sounds like a deal!” Carl replies, his heart skipping a beat at the implication of you wanting to do a stream with him more than once. Carl’s voice coming from your computer removes your attention from your phone. “Alright sorry about the pause there guys, I had a very important message to respond to,” he says, refocusing on his game all while he's still being teased for his very obvious change in behavior since his phone buzzed. Giggling at him regarding your message as very important, you sat back and watched him play his game, cracking up at the jokes he made. After he wraps up his stream, you’re left sitting at your computer, alone with your thoughts and they’re all about Carl.
About three minutes into zoning out, you're startled by the buzzing of your phone. You unlock your phone to see another DM from Carl.
“Do you think I could have your discord or maybe your phone number if you don't have that? I just thought it might be easier to communicate that way if we’re going to be doing streams together.” How does his nervous dorky voice translate so well through text? It’s almost like you could hear him stammering over asking for your phone number. Doing your best to reassure him, you reply: “I do have discord! But you can have my number too! It’s ***-***-****!”
“Thanks (y/n), I’m really excited about collabing with you! I was kinda shocked to see that you messaged me, even though I’m pretty sure this was orchestrated by our followers lol”
What can you say? Your followers really do come in clutch!
Me again! I hope you guys like this while you wait on the next part of Carl Grimes x Dhampir! reader! Also I hope you enjoyed that clip of Chandler sucking at fall guys, I really wanted to include that in this fic lol
#carl grimes#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes imagine#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#Streamer! Carl Grimes x Streamer! reader#my work
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DISCLAIMER: This is for all my 14DWY Fans who are sleeping on just how dangerous Ren is. LOL
I think it’s so funny how we all simp and are COMPLETELY whipped by ren.
He’a so cute, hot and has the sexiest habits. We’re in love right? We know he’d never hurt us and he’ll go to different lengths to please us.
He would steal thousands of dollars and give it to us, buy us whatever we wanted.
But then BOOM. It clicks for me that after seeing Sigh talk about how that’s the point and how he’s actually like dark web red room murder bad—it dawns on me that yeah…that IS the point.
 I love to pick apart character studies and try to really understand the character. And Ren is just a great case.
We are literally getting PLAYED. He calculated every last little detail. He knows the type of men we like, and literally altered his personality to be like that. We joke about his Haruko personality and how submissive and cute it is but I don’t think we realize enough that he did that JUST so we would feel easy around him and fall in love. And we did. We literally played right into his hand.
Some of us know, some of us don’t care and some of us don’t REALLY understand just how far ren has Gone.
He’s dedicated his ENTIRE life to you (since elementary) just because you made a promise to marry him when you were like 9. Then here we are 20 or older and he’s still infatuated.
He has mentally diluted hisself into thinking that you are the only person that he could possibly fall in love with. He has been obsessed you for over a decade ( or decades).
Another thing people aren’t really paying attention to is that Ren, can—will and most likely HAS murdered. we can’t forget this. Ren doesn’t mentally have the capacity to care about anyone except for the MC. If he needed to kill a homeless man, skin him alive and sell him for cash or something he would do it.
Ren is so cute and a pink sub hottie ➡️ Ren is an darker styled man who is a murderer and will dominate you.
Ren loves and cherishes MC ➡️ Ren is probably clinically delusional and has fantasized taking you all for himself because of a promise you made as a child.
Ren is so Strong ➡️ Ren has worked out solely to make sure he’d win and successfully murder his opponent in an altercation should the time come. He’s not necessarily muscularly sound for you.
Ren is so protective and always worried about MC ➡️ Ren is stalking you in the comfort of your own home. He is constantly watching you and sneaking in your apartment. You have zero privacy 24/7. He will kill anyone that finds out or is potentially romantically attracted to you. (I.e your childhood best friend or your mother that you love could all be brutally murdered if they were in Rens way.)
He’s hot and you’d love a man that’d “kill for you” until you realize that he’d kill your family, friends and anyone who even gets in his way. (What about their kids? Brothers? Or sisters? Someone is probably grieving over that person that Ren killed.)
Is it sinking in now? How are you going to feel when you cant have a life and have to tip toe around your lover because he will murder anyone that isn’t him or you. Ren is a psychotic, depressed, sociopath who is obsessed with you. He’s not just a Yandere. He’s…. a threat.
Don’t sleep on ren. 👁👁
✦゜ANSWERED: *louder than everyone else* THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The way you perceive Ren is so hot!!!! *chefs kiss*!!!!!! Shiro I love your mind!!!!!!!! This is literally how I've wanted Ren to be perceived as a yandere, and I'm honestly amazed at how spot on you got! >.< Like? [REDACTED] puts in all this effort to seem like your dream guy/ideal boyfriend — when in reality — he's hiding things that are far too sinister and disturbing to be described.
He has zero apathy for anyone other than the subject of his obsession, and he's not averse to doing unspeakably morbid and/or morally dubious things in order to get what he wants. And if he wants you, then there's nothing that can stand in his way.
He's desperate and willing enough to alter everything about himself in order to gain your affections, and he's more than capable of keeping up the facade if it means having you all to himself. He's been doing it for ten years already, so what's ten more?
He feels nothing when he murders and tortures people, nor does he cringe at the sight of blood and gore. At most, he might find it troublesome with how long it takes to drain the life out of someone, or if the blood gets all over his clothes — but when it comes to the wellbeing of his victims, nothing matters to him.
He knows his way around a fight and can deal devastating blows with a sledgehammer — but he can deal just as much damage from the comfort of his own home so long as he has a phone or a laptop at hand. Nothing is safe from his keen eyes, and it'd be a mistake to brush aside his hacking abilities.
Ren/[REDACTED] not some timid, pushover yandere who "probably doesn't know how to defend himself"; he's a deeply disturbed individual with an innate desire to get what he wants — no matter how gruesome or time-consuming it may be.
#i am kissing you gently (with consent)!!!!!!!!#thank you so much for writing this; i'm genuinely impressed!#i'd say so much more here but i should probably go to sleep hjsjgdjs#💌 — answered.#💖 — about ren.#ren introspection tag pending#queued post#to be tagged later
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Apollo Justice x reader. Head cannons for relationship
APOLLO JUSTICE x READER | written by MOD clever
warnings; A few cuss words here and there but that's it-
headcanons for Apollo Justice in a relationship...
Ace Attorney; Apollo Justice
First thing to know about this man- He doesn’t fall in love easily. But when he does? Man, he falls hard. He’s a dedicated and passionate individual, someone who isn’t open to dating someone unless he knows that they’re the right one.
You have to be someone he’s known for a long time. He’s been through a lot, and even though he continues to say that he’s fine, you need to be someone who can actually see through his facade and care for him as a person. Though he’s stubborn, he’ll be practically putty in your hands.
Apollo appreciates intellectual stimulation and enjoys engaging in deep conversations with his partner. (Taxes. /J) He enjoys being able to just have a full conversation with his partner, either it be about a trial coming up, or something random that you enjoy. With that being said, Apollo is also a great listener and a reliable source of emotional support. He genuinely cares about his partner's well-being and will lend a listening ear whenever they need to vent or seek advice. (Even if he's completely awkward at it at first.)
Dates? You mean spending time at a crime scene trying to figure out what the hell happened with Apollo's secret younger sister? Yeah-
Seriously though, Trucy definitely has third wheeled y'all a lot. So has Phoenix. Phoenix absolutely will tease Apollo in front of you.
"This is (Y/N), the person I was talking about earlier."
"Oh, couldn't you have found anyone better?"
"Mr. Wright-!?"
"I was talking to (Y/N)-"
Isn’t exactly that big on PDA. He gets flustered easily, face- Hell, entire body going red at any type of affection from his partner. Grab him by the face and pepper his face with kisses. Hold his hand and shout with him that you two are fine. Let him know how much he is valued, admired, and loved so you can make his heart soar.
Leave small hand-written notes for Apollo to find throughout the day- You don’t understand how much that will brighten his mood and make him feel special. These notes could include words of encouragement, affectionate messages, or even playful inside jokes. At some point, he’ll start writing little notes back, and it’ll become a little thing between the two of you. (You two have a little jar of unopened notes for each other for whenever either of you need a pick-me-up.)
Apollo appreciates whenever his partner cheers him on in court. Though, most of the time he’ll miss the sighting of you, and ends up a bit surprised whenever he sees you after court, waiting for him- But just the realization that you had been there, so excited for him to reveal the truth and provide justice has him absolutely melting.
Loves cooking with you. Is he a bit horrible at it? … Yes- BUT HEAR ME OUT- The guy is a romantic at heart, and longs for a domestic life after everything he’s been through. He loves the idea of standing next to you and learning how to make something with you. He knows how to make everyday things, like- he knows how to make eggs and such. But anything past that is stuff he needs help with.
His siblings give him the teasings of his life whenever you’re around. Even if it’s ever so subtle- Or completely obvious- (COUGH COUGH- RAYFA-) Though, prepare to be completely confused when Apollo’s siblings start speaking Khura'inese. (Don’t worry, Apollo’s confused too- He barely knows anything in Khura’In tongue-)
Old-School kid. He has a vintage record player that he… Doesn’t use that much- He just loves it too much to give it away. He loves taking Polaroid photos and putting them into a little scrapbook (Most photos are of you but shh-).
He tries to surprise you with dates, yet they never really seem to work in his favor due to how chaotic the people are in his life. He wants to be extravagant, yet his work schedule (and wallet-) tells him ‘Absolutely not.’ So dates usually end up with just watching random movies while helping Apollo work on an upcoming case.
You must like Mikeko. Mikeko must like you. I don’t make the rules, he does.
Genuinely, he loves his cat so much, and if you aren’t willing to get along with his cat, then there will be a bit of a problem. Of course, if the two of you get along, he’s already getting the wedding ring- /J
Apollo pays attention to the small details and remembers the things that matter to his partner. Whether it's their favorite snack, a specific interest or hobby, or a meaningful memory, he shows that he's invested in their happiness by remembering and incorporating these details into their relationship. Though, he does this absolutely unintentionally. The guy doesn’t even realize he does this. Must be the lawyer in him-
Strong man /J
I wouldn’t call him *that* strong, his arms are though- Has pretty buff arms- Strong upper-body strength. This is another thing he doesn’t quite realize? It’s quite funny watching him realize this over-and-over again, to be honest. That being said, he definitely will accidentally pick you up if you hug him.
Lawyer- Lawyer business- Meaning his schedule is usually filled to the brim with upcoming cases and such. It’s a bit difficult to find some quality time with him- It gets a tad worse after the whole Spirit of Justice arc. Just be there for him, ya’ll.
Isn’t used to having someone be there for him 24/7. He’s lived a tough life, lost many people along the way of becoming an attorney, he’s used to the concept of loss. He’d be so scared of losing you as well, seeing how horrible his luck was around this certain topic. He’ll shout that he’s fine, when in reality, most of the time he isn’t. Hold him, and make sure he knows you’re not going anywhere.
#mod clever#ace attorney x reader#apollo justice#apollo justice x reader#ace attorney#ace attorney apollo justice#headcanons
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I want NSFW and SFW as well thank you in advance :) 💕
Of course of course, dear~ My pleasure as always. I apologize that this took me so long. >.< I've been having trouble balancing my time with how exhausted I am from work lately. I want to do all kinds of things, but just feel too drained to do them. Anyways~ Your request, FINALLY. Du-du-du-dun~! I hope it was worth the wait QWQ I'm so sorry.
Pairing: Dabi x Shigaraki's Younger Sister! Reader
Warning: SFW and NSFW, there will be a warning for the NSFW headcanons.
SFW Headcanons
Let's be honest, your brother probably thinks that Dabi is doing this to mess with him or irritate him at first. Or as some kind of a sick joke. And Shigaraki is not having that. Shigs and Dabs don't always get along, after all.
Like "Are you serious, Dabi? You better back off."
(Shigaraki would definitely be protective of you, for sure.)
Dabi will definitely use you to poke fun at him and tease him; however, he's actually very serious when it comes to you.
It's when Shigaraki sees and finally realizes that, that he actually relaxes quite a bit.
A "Well-if-you're-actually-serious" type of moment.
Shigaraki is still definitely protective, but now that he's relaxed and more accepting of the relationship, it tends to turn into "Ok, but if you EVER hurt her, I"m going to decay your face worse than it already is."
Dabi's teasing tends to turn more into "Oh, Shigaraki, your sister is a much better hugger than you."
Cue another fun way to irritate Shigaraki in Dabi's book.
Honestly, Shigaraki is confused about whether to hurt Dabi for touching you or hurt Dabi just because he's annoying him as always.
When he sees you smile at Dabi and how your eyes light up and the way you two interact with each other though, that's quickly forgotten and he can't help but smile a bit too.
NSFW STARTS BELOW~ YEEHAW
NSFW Headcanons
Embarrasses the hell out of Shigs.
Do NOT let him catch you and Dabi on the couch or in some weird situation.
Poor Shigs is unsure whether or not to be entirely grossed out or whether he's going to beat Dabi's ass because "HOW DARE HE TOUCH YOU THAT WAY!"
If he hears you together that's different, and also absolutely hilarious.
Personally, I can just imagine Shigs with his hands over his ears and completely red in the face like "god, make it stop!" or "lalallaalla!" like school-grade children do.
Dabi though doesn't give a single fuck about whether Shigaraki hears or not, as long as he's making you feel good and you're hollering it to the world.
Whether it's with his tongue, mouth, or riding on him. ;)
Will growl and throw a pillow at Shigs if he interrupts.
Dabi will also throw a fit if Shigaraki comes in while you're snuggled asleep in his arms.
Like "Crusty, if you don't get the fuck out of here!"
Shigaraki uses this opportunity to terrorize both of you however though.
"So when's my little niece/nephew arriving?"
Genuinely flusters and flabbergasts Dabi.
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Birds Of A Feather
(Dream is a chicken hybrid, because Loyal says so.)
Merry Christmas @simplepotatofarmer! I hope you like your gift. :DD
Dream’s always been wary of Philza. One of the most powerful, legendary warriors, yes, and alongside Techno, he’s long since earned Dream’s full respect. He’s grateful that Phil is an ally so long as Technoblade is. So that’s his reasoning-- if anybody ever asked, which nobody ever did-- for why he was so wary of Phil. The actual truth of why, buried deep down, was not something he ever wished to face.
So when he comes to in an unfamiliar place and the first thing he sees is Philza, he’s alarmed to say the least, and manages to squawk out a “What happened?” fast as he can before Phil somehow and for some reason decides to get the drop on him.
“Good morning to you too,” Phil jokes calmly, and as much as Dream hates to admit it the tone lets him know there’s no immediate danger and it relaxes him. He trusts Phil for as long as he trusts Techno, so unless he did something unseemly in his sleep like a companion of his tended to he should be fine, right? “Okay, goodmorning,” Dream tries again in a rushed voice with an eyeroll, “that still doesn’t answer my question. What happened?”
Phil rolls his eyes in return. “You passed out, mate. Yeahhh turns out running and fighting in the snow immediately after spending god knows how long in a cramped up cage that’s hot as hell exhausts you. Who knew?” Dream attempts to stand-- it’s a lot harder than he’d like to admit, as most things seem to be these days-- and Phil tuts at him. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere. Let alone running off. At least wait until Techno gets back.”
Dream huffs. Regardless of whether or not Phil has a point, he can’t afford to just... sit around. And heal. And recover. And do nothing. “Well, how long until he gets back?” Dream tries, trying not to sound desperate and scared and threadbare from the wear and tear of prison. Phil thinks for a moment. “Well, he’s off hunting-- and I mean hunting down that bastard Sam with Ranboo and apparently Tubbo right now-- and it’s a rescue mission to boot so it’s probably gonna be a minute. Sorry mate, I know you’re in a rush to go wreck your body and do cartoon evil things again,” Phil adds with a slight chuckle.
“And you just want us to wait here like sitting ducks?!?” Dream counters, because he needs to go, because-- the look Philza is giving him, Dream realizes, makes him regret his choice of words nigh immediately. Phil waves him off nonchalantly. “They’re distracted, mate, we’ve got plans, you’ll be fiiiine.”
“Unrelated,” Phil starts smugly, in a way that implies they both know it very much is related, “What type of hybird did you say you were again?” This is it. This is everything Dream ever didn’t want to happen. The only person who could figure it out. “Well I don’t like telling people because it’s kind of like, you know, they try and like make a big deal out of it, because it’s rare or whatever, but I’m a feathered dragon-- probably why so many people were afraid of me-- and it just sucks that I can’t fly,” Dream stutters, attempting to make it sound natural. It’s mostly true. Mostly.
“Uh-huh,” Phil says. “Feathered dragon. Right. Sure. And that’s why you’ve got horns?” He’s leading him, surely, but Dream doesn’t care-- “Yes!--” he shouts over-eagerly-- “Yes, they’re awesome aren’t they? They’re epic, I love them.” Phil nods again. “And you’re sure it’s not, like, a comb? Like from a chicken?”
“WHAT?!?” Dream squawks again, offended, “NO-- a chicken-- are you calling me a coward? I’m not a chicken. That’d be stupid. That’d be dumb. They’re clearly horns.” Phil laughs, a big loud cackle that fills the entire house. “I KNEW IT!” He laughs, and Dream’s flustered and embarrassed and horrified but this legend, this terrifying legend, his laughter is infectious and he starts to giggle without even realizing as he protests, red-faced. “I’m not a chicken!”
“It’s okay mate,” Phil says with a hiccup, trying to hold back on his laughter, “It’s okay, you can be a chicken and still be feirce. I’ve seen some pretty vicious chickens in my lifetime, believe me. They can murder like nobody’s business. It ain’t your fault nobody seems to realize that.” It’s reassuring, somehow? And yet. “You say that after laughing like that,” Dream grumbles.
“Awww mate I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just laughing ‘cause I was right. Am I really the only one that figured it out?” He seemed genuinely surprised at it. Dream shrugged. “I mean like-- okay but so like-- you’re a crow, right? You’re the only other bird. Nobody else gave a shit, they saw horns because they wanted to see horns and like, what, you think I’m gonna tell them I’m actually a chicken?” Phil was still trying to calm down from laughing, but he nodded, “Nah, that’s fair, I can see that being an issue for you. If nobody took you seriously ‘cuz of it.”
“Exactly!” Dream exclaimed. And then he realized just how embarrassed he was. Here he was, meant to be a powerful warrior in his own right, laying in bed at the behest of Philza, baring his whole, chicken-hybrid heart to the warrior. This, he thought grumpily, was not how escaping from prison was meant to go. He decided to say as much. “This is not how I expected this to go,” He relayed to Phil, who laughed again. “You’re tellin’ me! Better stay and heal up then, who knows what you’re gonna need to do next.”
And Dream found he didn’t dislike that idea as much as he’d expected to.
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9, 19 (even tho I know already ehe) aaaand 32 :3
9: do you have a "type"? if so, what is it?
i have felt romantic attraction three (3) times in my entire life, so i fear there isn't yet enough data for this to be conclusive... but i will say! i've never fallen for a blonde person, fiction or otherwise. which is more than my good sibling kid of streets fame can say <3
for a more serious response though, my standards are depressingly low & i feel it's a bit amusing that so few people have really been considered in my mind as actual candidates for a romantic relationship - even before i develop romantic attraction, i've sometimes tried to decide if it's worth pursuing based on a few different factors... though i'm shy to put the details of that here. romance has never been a very important part of my life, but in terms of wanting a long-lasting relationship, it is the most viable option for most who do experience romantic attraction more often than i, and i'd want to be prepared if the question does come.
& for all the jokes, aesthetic attraction plays a very little part in whether or not i'd want someone as my partner. many people pursue me based solely on appearances, and it's certainly made clear to me how shallow it feels to have that as a significant point of interest.
19: describe your fashion sense. do you "dress gayly"?
HOW RUDE...!! ...i may dress gayly, but that is BESIDES THE POINT!!
aheem. in any case. my wardrobe is primarily filled with reds, blacks, and dark purple/blue hues. i typically prefer clothing with a more formal feel to them, often long-sleeved, and i rarely go without wearing my gloves! i do have a few short-sleeved shirts which have fanciful designs on them or where the sleeve hangs nicely... i need to get a new vest, though. and i'd love to buy more skirts (or loose pants that hang like skirts)
in the past, i used to wear much simpler styles. jeans with a leather jacket, hoodie, or a flannel. i still have my first girlfriend's flannel in my closet bwehehe... it's been there for years.
but of course...! when i'm at home, i typically opt for what is the most comfortable, so i end up reusing the same few outfits if i know i'm not heading out that day :P it's usually simple formal black pants & whatever soft shirt i have around.
as many of my friends have claimed... i dress & speak as though i'm... "a victorian dandy" ... devastating.
32: tell a funny story about something really gay you've done.
haggardly lights my cigarette... 🚬
you've already heard the story of my first gf and i taking literal weeks to kiss each other on the mouth, during which we'd meet after school every day in a secluded spot between school walls, just in front of the student council room... so i shall choose another!
when i was a young dyke, see, there was this lovely girl (soon to discover. they're not a girl. but that's unrelated) i'd met during summer courses (to get academic credits early) and quickly grew fond of. we had a bit of a thing going on here, and they eventually invited me to the "anime club" (& book club + the origami club that they started up. but that's unimportant right now) since i stayed after school anyhow in the library to finish work/etc. and they wished to spend more time with me.
when i went to the anime club, it was primarily their friend group. i was extremely nervous of being the only one who didn't know them, especially as i'd transferred late to the school; but they quickly warmed up to me, and throughout the year, we all came to realize we were gay or trans in some manner.
one person's realization was. through her crush on me, which i somehow didn't realize i was the cause of when i saw her instagram & announcement she was bisexual & her sudden uptick in calling me "honey."
the time it actually registered for me that "oh! this is not just a joke about everyone in this club being gay girls!" was when we finished the final episode of death note. after discussing it, she said that she loved my words & picked me up, twirled me around, and carried me out of the classroom "bridal style" -- my friend stole some flowers from one of the planters to put in our hair when she finally set me down in the courtyard. i was so embarrassed, but it was very fun <3
anyway. dn is gay but not for the reason people think. it's because i permanently associate it with one of the most flustering moments of my entire life, during which i accidentally put my face in her tits multiple times 👍
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(Going off the safe assumption Rumia wins) Here's the line for the first Gym Leader's Ace!
Shadling
The Darkness Pokemon
A Dark and Poison Type
Dex Entry: Aside from the strange tail coming out of Shadling's body, Shadling's body consist entirely of a strange dark sludge that's corrosive in nature. It is unknown what's under this sludge, if anything at all. In place of eyes, they have a strange, ribbon like structure that functions somewhat like ears. They are known for bouncing around the woods at night.
Abilities: Gooey/Poison Touch
Hidden Ability: Corrosion
Fun fact: The sludge being corrosive is based on Osana Reimu and ReiReimu =)! Kinda an abstract take on Rumia but still. When I call this thing a little shit, I mean it, it has like a Jigglypuff tier BST. Shit sucks. Dusk stone evo (Don't worry, the evo has a level up move set). I feel like this line is kinda Bendy coded given that they're meant to mostly be blackish and yellow (Body is like a VERY dark red and the tail is Rumia's hair color). Oh yeah, Rumia uses the evolution btw.
Sludgdow
The Darkness Pokemon
A Dark and Poison Type
Dex Entry: Sludgdow are agressive nocturnal predators found around the forests of Gensokai. Spending the days hiding in trees, they swing and bounce around the forests at night, using their ribbon like hearing organs to detect prey. Once detected, Sludgdow will violently attack their prey item with their sharp claws while slowly digesting the victim with their corrosive sludge. Despite their violent nature, they are often compared to human children in terms of personality.
Abilities: Poison Touch/Gooey
Hidden Ability: Corrosion
"Despite their violent nature, they are often compared to human children in terms of personality," is meant to be a joke. Kids do fucked up shit. Anyways, here's Rumia's partner pokemon! Pronounced (Sludge-doe), Sludgdow is a damn mean ace for the first gym, but Gensokai is a cruel bitch and Rumia is here to teach you this. I realized while writing shadling's dex entry that Sludgdow looks kinda like the Searchers from Bendy. And the mostly Yellow and close to Black color scheme surely doesn't help. Also the "ribbons" of this line are meant to be red if you couldn't guess. The line lacks eyes and are blind as a nod to Rumia's little shadow bubble she flies around in, which is actually what Shadling is modeled after =D!
#touhou#touhou project#pokemon#fakemon#fakemon region#Rumia#dark type gym#Sludgdow's perspective feels a bit off but oh well.#oh btw gym leader 3 (fire type) is Yuki and this is NOT negotiable
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Kaveh x Reader ✦ Oh my God! Roommates! ✦ Afterword from the author
When the first images of Kaveh made it onto my timeline, I knew that I would be unable to resist this man. Red eyes? Blonde pretty boy? Everything about him screamed my type.
I knew I was going to have to write something for him as soon as I was able to see him in game. The problem was, how do write an entire full length fanfiction for someone who has only three minutes of content?
By utilizing all three minutes plus scraps of dialogue from the world. Of course, taking a ton of creative liberties was involved as well.
I feel like I watched the cutscene with him and Alhaitham over 300 times, and I analyzed every single crumb left in the overworld and whatever vague mentions of him from other characters. I decided to take the route of a pretty boy flirt who seems dumb but is actually smart when it counts. I used Sylvain from FE3H as a basis for his personality.
The next factor I wanted to emphasize was the clash of his and Alhaitham's ideals, focusing on feelings vs logic. This is a subject that appears very frequently, helping Kaveh's personality to shine through and feel more than an NPC.
I also wanted to emphasize that Kaveh is indeed a hard worker, but due to the differences in his and Alhaitham's approach to their respective studies, a lot gets lost between the two. The reader, however, picks up on this, which also foreshadows their eventual feelings for him.
To help explain why Alhaitham sees him as hardly working, I decided to make Kaveh be a night owl. This was a decision I made prior to 3.4, which funny enough, turned out to be canonical.
After establishing Kaveh's character to the best of my ability, the challenge now was portraying him being in love. He is known to have a great understanding of human emotions, so he would logically be familiar with romantic feelings. At first, I wanted to give the implications that he was a romantic and smooth talker, but as his feelings for the reader developed, he began to get overwhelmed. Of course, this may pain the reader, but opened up a ton of opportunities for blushy mess Kaveh.
This has to be the most lowkey "this character has barely any content and I don't have much to work off of so I'm just making wild guesses here" ever. I was conflicted on how to portray him, and I wanted to somehow make that clear in the text as well.
Now, how would someone with such a deep understanding of human emotions encounter such a problem with their own feelings? Well, understanding isn't the same as feeling, and so I wanted to show that he was working through how he felt himself. I personally think this works quiet well adding depth to his character.
Of course, I had Alhaitham to play around with as well. One thing that bothered me was that some people think he is oblivious to human feelings. This isn't the case at all. He honestly just doesn't care. I slipped in that fact while he was confronting the reader and Kaveh in order to show this.
I will admit, I couldn't help myself from having Alhaitham make a very vague sex joke towards the reader and Kaveh. I like to think that he teases him sometimes, when they aren't arguing of course. Plus, if they did nothing but argue, somebody would've ended up murdered at this point.
The characterization of Kaveh, along with Alhaitham, was probably what I spent the most time thinking about. I'm sure you're wondering; what about the plot? The foreshadowing? How did you think of that?
The answer is simple; I pulled it out of my ass.
I barely had any notes to go off of. In fact, besides dialogue from canon, all I wrote this with was a thrown together outline that I probably only barely followed. The only reason why any foreshadowing worked out was because I came up with something initially intended as filler, until later on I realized, hey, I can actually refer back to it and throw the reader for a loop. If you read a part you liked, there is a 95% chance that I didn't plan for it to happen.
These are the actual notes I used alongside writing this fic.
Anyways, that is what I wanted to share regarding the process of writing this fic. 3.4 came out just a few days ago and it includes further Kaveh content. Rather than change any part of this fic to take new dialogue into account, I decided that it would be left to stay true to the fic's origins and leave it rest.
I hope it doesn't set your expectations too high or too low for future Kaveh content, and I apologize ahead of time if anything ends up being inaccurate. I have to say, though, the positive reception that I have gotten is overwhelming, especially for someone that I have guessed 90% of his personality traits. We still barely know about him, but I am glad that I was able to share the love I have for Kaveh with many others.
Thank you all for the support! It kept me going, despite the doubts I had due to having so little to work with. I hope you enjoyed this work, and I look forward to being able to write more for Genshin Impact and many others.
Signed, Nevermore
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annual new years eve post where i ramble about my feelings into the void as if anyone is going to read it
2022 wasn't a perfect year, but it was the year i needed
i keep trying to type this post and end up backspacing it because this one isn't as easy as the last few times i've done one of these. this wasn't the best year of my life, by a long shot. it also wasn't even close to the worst. the most significant? maybe.
the very first thing that happened to me in january was a terrible case of covid (which i had totally avoided until then) that took me an entire month and then some to recover from, and i was pretty sure it would set the tone for how the rest of 2022 went. yet this ended up being the year i moved forward for the first time in a long time. was every step i took the right one? probably not. there are a lot of things i'm not happy with right now. but there are a lot of things i am happy with, and the things i'm not put into perspective what i actually want to do to change them (to an extent lol we are still a little lost out here).
i pushed forward in a career that i enjoy and i'm good at. i admitted that i'm really not in love with new york city the way i always felt i was supposed to be. a lot of the time i actively dislike it here. i did fall in love with los angeles and for the first time in my life stepped into a place and got the overwhelming feeling, for no apparent reason, that it was right (thank you again @laynemorgan for letting me sleep on your futon and eat your food and for helping turn what would have been a terrible weekend into something so much more important to me).
so many posts on here this year were me joking that i had regressed into old fandoms and old embarrassing ships but honestly? it was a big lesson in just reconnecting with things that make me feel joy. i spent a good chunk of years losing what i love in some attempt to be something else and connect with people who were never going to be good for me. finding yellowjackets and feeling that indescribable pull towards a piece of media again, the energy and desire to write and create and be in a community, was like meeting an old friend and realizing "i haven't exactly been the same without you here." jumping (a little manically) back into glee, supercorp, and so many more things that used to be such HUGE parts of my life brought something back that i didn't know i had been missing. and i don't particularly care anymore if that sounds stupid. fuck it.
i gained a lot of self respect this year (new for me!) and really learned what good friendships and good relationships look like, the kind that i deserve to have. i learned a lot about myself, and took steps to not only guard my own peace but make sure i am doing better and doing right by the people around me. i did a lot of things i regret and that i could've thought through better, and i did a lot of things that were overdue and freeing and led to something brighter. i'm working on not giving a shit about what people think about me when they don't even bother to get to know me. to boot, i got comfortable with the nonbinary label and knew i was finally surrounded by the right people when everyone just rolled with it.
i also felt those first butterflies in my stomach for someone new recently that i thought had been dead for a couple of years lmao (reading this back and i definitely meant the butterflies were dead. not the person. i'm not crushing on a corpse. thank you). i don't care if that doesn't go anywhere but like...if you know me well, you know that's big after the last couple of years. so. cool.
and i dyed my hair red this week because i never got to do that as a teenager and i figured why the fuck not. here's to entering the new year with a head the color of wine.
this got really long, these posts aren't usually this much, but i hope my friends (and my mutuals here!!) know i love them and they helped me experience all of this. i would do 2022 again in a heartbeat. the emotional drunk nights out, the video game nights in, the road trips, the concerts, the long days of work, the good, the bad, the annoying.
here's to a cautiously optimistic 2023. ❤️
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First thing's First...
I'm starting this page to kind of get all my thoughts, feelings, fears and all that out into the world. I want to help and inspire others. I want them to heal just as I am working on healing.
Here's a quick run down of why I am in the position I'm in. It's a story I've actually gotten bored telling, but it's necessary to understand why I have the trauma and attachment style that I do.
In 2006, I started dating a guy who would become my husband two years later. From the start, there were obvious red flags that I should have paid attention to, but I was a stubborn kid. I hadn't met many guys who admitted to liking me and the couple who did, I just wasn't attracted to them.
I thought this guy was the love of my life. Turns out he was the narc of my life. I stayed way beyond the relationship's expiration date. We were together, in total, nearly 16 years. We divorced in 2020. During the marriage, he constantly put me down in joke form, he cheated, lied, hid stuff from me, sabotaged plans, broke down all my boundaries, was disrespectful, wouldn't stand up for me, played the victim, gaslit me, took advantage of me physically and then insult the results of his actions, emotionally manipulated me, was super hot and cold with me, emotionally abandoned me for long periods of time, threatened to leave me constantly, threatened to kill himself if I wanted out, love bombing was a big thing with him as well. The list goes on, but like I said the narrative has come to a point for me where it's exhausting to think or talk about
Fast forward to today. I met a man who I love and turns out those toxic habits that were used on me, I use them now. This hurt the man I love very deeply. I ended things with him because I couldn't keep hurting him like that. He's one who will endure the world and I don't want to be the one to continuously break his world. So then I started a healing journey; not just for him, but mainly for me. It was him who made me realize I actually did need help. I've gotten a lot of confirmation that this time it will stick and I believe it.
Novemeber 9, 2022, there was a shift in my entire being. I woke up and felt like my body and mind were upgraded. There was no feelings of pain and anxiety (yes these things still happen, but not on the same scale as before).
I had already been reading a lot of books about changing your mindset, praying, meditating, isolating, looking deep, journaling, and practicing cognitive behavioral therapy. I then came across a therapist who suggested looking into the attachment style theory. So I took the quiz and I was shocked honestly. I thought I'd be one of the common types, but nope. It turns out because of the extended time in an abusive relationship, I had developed the rarest attachment style which is a combination of both of the common ones.
It now made sense to me why my ex boyfriend was constantly saying I was hot and cold toward him. I didn't even know it was happening. It was something I was so used to being a part of that I didn't know I was doing it independently of my ex husband. I didn't even know it was a problem then, but it makes sense now.
So I am setting a specific goal for myself:
Blog 3 times a week about my journey and healing progress.
I hope you will follow along, share your experience or start your own journey. Had you told me 2 month ago that I would be in the mental space I am now, I would not have believed you. That's how helpless I felt back then, but healing is possible! You can retrain your mind, heal and learn to love the person you are!
#healing#self healing#healing journey#self love#therapy#cognitive behavioral therapy#attachment style#be your own best friend#heal your mind#hope#you are loved#you are wanted#you are needed#you are enough#you matter#your life matters#love for all#love for yourself#keep going#you got this
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@chaosworthy said:
He had no idea where they went from here, was almost scared to find out even. A part of him would be...torn if nothing came of this and yet, at the same time, as long as they could still spend time together the hero knew that would be enough. For him anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be ideal after a while but he would just be glad to have the other around.
Because the tanuki was anything but a joke to the hedgehog. They were kind, caring, would have given the world everything if he could. Not so unlike the hero himself, but so different at the same time. There was nothing about the other that the hedgehog didn't like, even the sound of that one word.
It was only at it that Sonic pulled away from the other’s fur, a look of confusion on his face and yet those emerald eyes were fixed on the tanuki's. He didn't even fight his head being moved; nor the space between them closing.
It may have been short, soft, but the hero was practically dizzy from the contact. From the kiss. Mismatched ears had fallen, quills falling lax along with the rest of the hedgehog’s body. His pulse was racing, his heart so loud in his ears and yet there was concern as they pulled away. Namely at Kounosuke's reaction.
He was quiet for a moment before realization came, and slowly he reached over to take one of those trembling hands. His touch gentle, but persistent, as he gave it a squeeze. He could sense the doubt, and it was time to dispel it. Entirely.
"'S alright..." There was nothing to be doubted in his voice, no hesitation nor qualm to be found in that smile on his muzzle. He was happy, and it was because of Kounosuke. "Me too."
For the first moment, there was nothing but fear.
He’d just ruined everything, didn’t he? There was no way Sonic would want a relationship with someone like him. He’d never be good enough, and it didn’t even have so much to do with his body type, though that was a factor. It was because he was too... bouncy, if that made sense. Too excitable, while Sonic seemed to be pretty calm about things.
“...Sorry. I got too carried away, and...”
But then Sonic took his hands, with that powerful grasp of his. Not that the grasp was actually powerful, it was the gentility that was powerful. The softness. He didn’t expect that. He expected to be pushed away, or worse, slapped across the cheek for his bold move. It caught him completely off guard, when his action was met with gentility. His face went bright red. He could practically feel steam blowing out of his ears.
And the words. The confirmation that it was okay. Even more so, the confirmation that Sonic somehow felt the same way. It filled his heart more than anything else could have. No photograph, nor food item could have compared to the feeling in his chest. No matter how much he wanted, you couldn’t capture all beautiful moments on film. Some of them just had to exist within your memories. Like now.
Slowly, a smile comes across his own face. He was truly, undoubtedly happy, in a way he never had been before.
“You’re the best. Really. I want to stay with you forever.”
#Interviews ; Answered Ask#A True Friend ; Arrow#chaosworthy#Ship Tag ; Kounosuke ; Singing in All that I am / At the Top of My Lungs / I'm Giving it Back#saved
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Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!
You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-
(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
Lucifer
There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.
The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.
But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.
But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.
“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."
Mammon
The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now!
He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.
And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.
Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.
“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"
Levi
Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven.
Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!
You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!
Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.
“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"
Satan
You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?
Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.
When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.
He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.
"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"
Asmo
Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!
Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.
Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!
Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...
“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"
Beel
Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.
He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.
...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?
When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.
"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."
Belphie
There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.
Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...
As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-
It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?
"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."
#obey me#obey me!#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#shall we date? obey me!#shall we date obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#obey me writing#obey me asks#obey me ask blog#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me leviathan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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viki & hickeys
the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries
MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide
RATING m (18+)
WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks
Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.
“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?
You’re not so sure.
It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.
“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”
You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”
She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.
You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)
“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.
“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.
There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.
“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”
You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”
His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.
“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”
Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.
Oh, you loved this man.
Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.
It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”
“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.
It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.
“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.
“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.
If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.
“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.
“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”
“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.
“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.
It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“
“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.
“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”
You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?
He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?
Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.
“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”
A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”
Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”
It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.
“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”
A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”
It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”
Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”
Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.
“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.
There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.
You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”
“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.
On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.
Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”
You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.
“I thought he was cool before.”
He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.
You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.
Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”
“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“
“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.
It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.
He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.
(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.
But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.
“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”
“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.
“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”
Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.
It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.
He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.
Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“
“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.
“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.
“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.
“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”
“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.
Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.
Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.
You whimper. “That hurt.”
“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.
Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.
Of course.
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.
It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.
And you’re all too ready to act on it.
Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.
But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.
“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.
The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.
“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.
He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.
“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.
“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.
It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.
“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.
Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.
Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.
Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.
He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.
“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.
He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.
Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”
You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”
It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”
And it’s true.
You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.
He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.
“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.
“I kinda do—“
“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.
“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.
“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.
“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.
“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.
It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.
You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.
“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.
“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.
“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.
“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.
“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.
“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.
“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.
“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.
“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.
“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”
He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.
“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.
epilogue
Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.
He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.
“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.
“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“
“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”
“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”
There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”
epi-epilogue
The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.
“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.
“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”
And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.
“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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